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electricity.  Byrd reached the waistband of her jeans and paused.  Celia fumbled to undo them with frantic hands but he reached out and caught her fingers. “Easy, there.  We’ve got plenty of time.  Let’s do this right, woman.”
    Right, wrong, here, there, she didn’t care. “I’m trying,” she gasped.  He chuckled. “Bedroom works better.  We might as well do it in comfort.”  Before Celia could process her thoughts or speak, Byrd swept her into his arms and took a swift path into the bedroom.  Later she’d wondered how he’d known where it was located but in the moment she didn’t care.  Once there, he undid her jeans and she stepped out of them.  Byrd’s large hands maneuvered the silken panties down her legs as she clawed the shirt from his body.  He picked up where he’d stopped, his mouth hovering just above her mound, and she trembled with anticipation.
    He backed her to ward the bed and she sat down, then laid back with her legs spread wide.  He bent between them and lowered his mouth to her flesh. Celia thought she’d surely die when his feverish breath blew hot against her skin.  He kissed her there and then used his tongue with such skill her body shuddered with bliss.  She whimpered with pleasure and he lifted his head to kiss her mouth.  His lips tasted of her cunt, salty, and somehow strange to her but damn, she liked it.  Then, without any further foreplay, Byrd slammed his cock into her willing pussy with the power of a thunderstorm.  He impacted her as if she’d been hit by lightning.  Wild circles of delight erupted through her and she bucked against him, greedy for more.  They humped, their bodies slapping flesh to flesh until he reared back, dived deeper, and brought her to a shuddering climax that had her screaming.  He quivered as thoroughly as she and when they shivered to a stop, they were both breathing hard and fast.  They lay tangled in the sheets, the sweet stickiness of come puddled beneath them.
    “I want you.” His voice resonated in the night.
    Celia laughed, “Cher, I believe you just had me.”
    He snorted with mirth. “There’s no doubt that I did but I meant as my mate.”
    Mate? Hell, they might’ve made the most fantastic, intense love she had ever known, but mate ? The attraction between them was powerful, oui, but most men shied away from any idea of commitment.  She must’ve heard wrong. Maybe he meant “date,” not “mate.” Celia trailed her hand down his bronze belly and stroked his side. “Don’t you mean ‘date’?”
    He shook his head. “No.  I don’t have time nor the inclination for such frivolity.  I don’t watch movies or go dancing or any such thing.  I live, I fly, and I bring storms.  It’s my destiny.  But I’m tired of being alone.  I’ve never had a mate but I want one.  I want you.”
    “You’ve lost me, Byrd.” Celia didn’t remember drinking but she must be intoxicated because what he said made little sense.  “What do you mean you bring storms and it’s your destiny? You’re talking crazy.”
    His eyes met hers and held her gaze. “I’m sorry.  I’m blunt, I’m afraid.  I don’t have human finesse or social skills.  I thought you knew, Celia, or had at least guessed.”
    Her afterglow was fast fading into alarm. “Guessed what?”
    “Think about it.”
    “About what?”
    “Remember where I first saw you,” he said, his voice so kind and sweet she wanted to embrace it, to believe it, to understand. “I saw you at the pond when I flew over.”
    “Yes, you’re a pilot.”
    Byrd sighed. “I never told you that, Celia.  You assumed it because it made sense but what I am defies logic.  I’ve only attempted to tell five people over hundreds of years and no one believes me.  I thought you would.”
    Mon dieu, she wanted to, but unless she grasped whatever he wanted to tell her, she couldn’t.  “I’m trying, Byrd.”
    “Think.” His fingers played across her skin like a