Blood & Soul

Blood & Soul by Deborah O'Toole (aka Deidre Dalton) is Book #3 in the Bloodline Trilogy.

Emma Beckett is adopted into a loving home as an infant, never knowing the true circumstances of her birth. As a child, she discovers she has unique powers of healing but eventually realizes her abilities could be an instrument of evil, begotten by a bloodthirsty monster.

From Chapter Four: Touch of Love

SHAWN WASN'T EXACTLY sure when his feelings for Emma changed from platonic friendship to romantic love, but he knew the transformation had occurred gradually as she bloomed from adolescence into the glow of young womanhood.

Their tender youth had been filled with rollicking play, Emma keeping up with him for the most part. She was quietly dogged, even as a girl. They were akin to brother and sister, who also happened to be the best of friends - even when they had mild disagreements. Romantic notions had never entered his head, at least not in the early days, and not until Emma began to physically develop past childhood.

But it wasn't just physical.

Shawn knew her so well, recognizing her inherent inner beauty. It was simply a natural part of her, merely adding to her outer beauty. She was the perfect woman, and a flawless human being. Her wondrous healing powers aside, she was the complete package in his eyes.

He fought the feelings in his mind for a long time, dismissing them as hormone-driven urges brought on by his own maturation. He was eventually forced to accept reality as his feelings only intensified with time. He was in love with Emma, and probably always had been. Yet he sat on the fence about telling her, unsure of her reaction. Despite her hints of jealousy over Mia Gianna, Shawn sensed Emma had felt threatened by the other girl, perhaps fearing their solid friendship would alter because of it. He did not want to create an awkward uneasiness between them by revealing his love for her, so he kept silent about it for a long time. He was unable to detect if she felt differently about him as they grew older. While he knew her as well as he knew himself, her mind was often difficult to read.

She was Emma, pure and simple. And he couldn't help but love her.

* * *

EMMA COULDN'T SLEEP the night they buried Jinji next to Chaz under the pine tree in the backyard. She was heartbroken, but resigned to a life without her pets. They had both been well-loved during their lifetimes, cherished by her from the time she met them, yet the sadness persisted. She tried to conjure happy memories - of which there were many - but she still could not fall asleep.

She groaned as she glanced at the digital clock on her bed stand. It was three-thirty in the morning, but she saw no point in fighting it any longer. She thought of Shawn, wondering if he was asleep, or awake as she was.

Emma rose from her bed and donned a pair of pink shorts with a black tee-shirt. Rather than traipse through the house and possibly awaken her parents, she climbed down the pine tree just outside her bedroom window.

She dashed across the back lawn in the pale moonlight, knowing her way to the Baskerville cottage in the dark. Having made the trek so many times, she was surefooted all the way.

Emma was disappointed to see Shawn's bungalow in darkness. The structure,  which was located behind the main cottage, had become his "private room" of sorts since his sixteenth birthday, when Gwen allowed him the freedom to live in semi-privacy. The bungalow has once been his father's study, and included one bedroom, a kitchenette, a bathroom with a shower, and a stamp-sized living room with an old, overstuffed camel-colored couch.

Not to be deterred by the darkness, Emma found the spare key Shawn always kept under a potted Great Burnet, its tall branching stems blooming with tightly set blood-red bottlebrushes. She unlocked the front door and slipped inside quietly after replacing the key.

She had spent many happy hours with Shawn inside the bungalow. They had played endless video games and watched movies together, making microwave popcorn in the tiny kitchen or having artichoke and cheese brick-oven pizza delivered from Cafe Beaujolais in the village.

Emma headed for the bedroom, which was just off the living room. A small shaft of moonlight allowed her to see Shawn sleeping on his stomach, dressed in only his dark red jockey shorts. The weather was warm, so he had fallen asleep with the window open over his bed. She smiled in the dark when she heard his light snoring.

"Shawn?" She whispered.

He did not stir, his snores still coming soft and continuous. She slipped into the bed next to him, drawing the sheet to her shoulders. Facing away from him, she snuggled into the mattress as she felt his body heat reach her. She closed her eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. She would have preferred to find Shawn awake so they could talk, but she settled for the dark and quiet as she felt her eyes grow heavy.

Within a few minutes, she felt Shawn move behind her, as if he was stretching his legs. She was going to apologize for waking him, but he suddenly began to kiss the back of her neck gently. The feather touch of his lips created a tingle down her spine, rendering her speechless.

"Emma," he said in her ear, his voice soft and seeming to drift on the breeze coming through the window over their heads. "Oh God, Emma . . . "

Shawn had never kissed her like he was doing now. Emma felt as if her body had become electrified, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She also felt his desire growing against her back. She was somehow humbled that he wanted her like a man wants a woman. She had always wondered if he would ever make a move in romantic fashion toward her, and now the moment was here.

She rolled over quickly so that she was facing him. Her vision had adjusted to the moonlight, giving her the ability to see his blue eyes regarding her seriously. She reached out and caressed his face.

Suddenly, Shawn seemed uncertain. "Emma . . . do you want me like I want you?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes, Shawn. I've wanted you that way for a long time."

He groaned. "If I had known that, this would have happened before now."

"Spilt milk," she told him.

He brought her closer in the circle of his arms, his lips finding hers in a deep, moist kiss.  She felt as if she was melting in his embrace, the warmth from their body heat fusing them into a state of dreamy rapture.

He half-sat as he removed her t-shirt, kissing her at the same time. He unhooked her bra from the front and began running his hands over the firm mounds of her flesh. Emma moaned deep in her throat, enthralled by the pleasurable sensations slamming through her body.

Shawn shifted his attention to her lower body, pulling her silky underwear down her legs and beyond her feet. She was completely naked in his bed, yet she felt no shyness or trepidation. Being in his arms felt natural, and right.

He stopped kissing her. "Your turn now," he murmured.

She was puzzled at first, but then realized he wanted her to remove his one piece of clothing. She lifted herself to her knees, pulling the bed sheet from his body. She found the waistband of his jockey shorts and slid them from his body, then tossed them to the floor. She lay on top of him, taking his jaw line in her hands to kiss him.

Emma felt his desire rising even more against her. He had his hands all over her body now, so she responded in kind. She touched his hardened member, marveling at its warmth and smoothness. He began moaning, his returning kiss becoming more forceful.

They stopped briefly to catch their collective breaths, the sounds of their labored breathing seeming loud in the room.

"I'll never knowingly hurt you, Em," Shawn said quietly.

"I know."

"But the first time might hurt."

"I know that, too. Girls in school talk about boys all the time. While I don't talk about it with them, I listen to what they say."

He chuckled. "You're so adorable, Em, and you don't even know it."

"Are we going to just keep chatting?" She asked, humor in her tone. "Wouldn't you rather be doing something else?"

He pushed her onto her back and straddled her. She felt his hands on her hips for a moment, and then one hand went to her center. He probed inside her wetness with his index finger, slowly moving in and out of her. She instinctively moved her hips to match his rhythm.

"How do you feel?" He asked her.

"Wonderful," she replied. "And ready for more." She reached up and ran her hands across his chest. "Can I ask you something first?"

He nodded.

"Have you ever done this with anyone else before?"

He hesitated, but then spoke truthfully. "About a year ago, I went to a party in Ukiah with some of my friends, where drinking was involved. I ended up in bed with a girl at the party."

"Do you still see her?"

He shook his head. "No. I haven't seen her since then, and there has been no other contact. To be honest, I don't even know her last name."

"What was her first name?" Emma pressed.

"Alice. That's all I know."

She touched his lips with her fingertip. "I love you, Shawn Baskerville. Always have."

"I love you, Emma Beckett. Always have, and always will."

Shawn leaned down and began kissing her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck as if to bring him even closer, if possible. Their tongues met and melded, twisted together by an urgent surge of passion.

He entered her slowly at first, not wanting to scare or hurt her, but she moved against him with unabashed eagerness. She wanted it to happen, more than anything else in her life before.

Shawn suddenly plunged into her all the way, which brought a startled gasp from Emma. He rested inside of her for a long minute, but then she began the returning rhythm on her own. He lost himself in her as they became one, the passing time having little meaning to either of them as they pleasured each other, over and over.

As Emma had told Shawn, she'd heard about sex from other girls at school. They had sometimes made it sound like a dirty and shameful deed, something to ridicule on occasion, but it was the exact opposite for her. With each thrust, she felt herself reaching a peak that brought her closer to Shawn, exactly where she wanted to be. They were in sync as one, as they were in all other aspects of their lives. It was a complete and whole identity in their shared expression of love.

After their ultimate and mutual climax was reached, Shawn and Emma collapsed on the bed, laying on their backs. They were both breathless, their bodies and minds drowning in awe and wonder.

"I never knew . . . " She finally said softly. "I never knew such a thing could exist as it is with us."

"It does exist with me and you," he responded. "Somehow, I doubt it will ever change."

"I know it won't." She turned her head to look at him. "How is it that we both know it, and with such certainty?"

He reached over and caressed her face. "We were meant to be, Em. I've felt it from day one. I just knew we were destined to spend our lives together."

"I like the sound of that," she said dreamily.

"So do I."

They joined together again, this time moving slower as they tried to prolong their mutual pleasure.

It was nearing dawn when Emma finally left the bungalow, the sun rising over the calm sea waters, promising another beautiful day in Northern California. She dressed hurriedly while Shawn donned a pair of denim cut-off shorts.

"I'll walk you back," he said, unwilling to part with her.

"Better not," she returned. "With my luck, Mom will be up early, looking out the kitchen window as I sneak back into the house."

"Our parents are going to find out sooner or later," he replied stubbornly.

"Later would be better," she told him. "I don't want them to catch us being sneaky. I'd rather tell them face-to-face."

"When?"

"Soon." Emma was reluctant to tell her parents about her new intimacy with Shawn, mainly because she feared Cabral and Darcy would be shocked to discover their daughter sleeping with her best friend right under their noses. She had enough respect for them to broach the subject gradually so they could grow accustomed to the idea.

"I get it," Shawn said, sounding relieved.

She pulled him into her arms. "Thank you, Shawn. See you later?"

"Most definitely," he replied. Then he grinned. "And later tonight, if you please. Come back to the bungalow after our parents have gone to sleep."

She kissed him. "Oh, yes. Most definitely."