Maelstrom: Mermaids of Montana 1: Intergalactic Dating Agency

by Jade, Elsa

  The furrow between his brows smoothed. “Sorry. My natural bioluminescence only comes out when needed.”

  Comes when needed… She’d never had that before.

  When he started to ease upright, she snugged one leg behind his knees. “Wait. Don’t go. Yet. I need… I just need…”

  Holding himself effortlessly above her with his hands braced in the loam on either side of her shoulders, he let her stammer into silence.

  “Need?” he prompted in a low voice that resonated through her like the sonar ping of a sub hunter.

  What might he find if he were searching into her? The thought made her squirm against him again, and her pulse hammered.

  But not in fear.

  In that moment of clarity, she admitted, “I want to be free of it, just for a little while.”

  “Free of what?”

  “Freaking out. Disbelieving. Wondering if I’m losing my mind.”

  Balancing on one palm, he reached up to push aside his hair before caressing her cheek, the contact cool and soft on her skin, with a strange sparkle in the beads of water left on his nails. “Is it so hard to believe? To trust your senses?”

  Despite the gentleness of his touch, there was an undercurrent of urgency to his questions that made her frown. “My lying brain tells me I’m drowning.”

  “Tells you the waters are dark and deep and dangerous. That’s true enough.”

  She lifted her chin to give him a challenging glare. “Are you trying to scare me more?”

  Stroking downward, he settled his hand around her neck, not domineering exactly, but adding a subtle pressure with his fingertips on the side of her throat behind her jawbone. “Maybe I just want you to believe you don’t need to be scared of deep and dark and dangerous anymore.”

  Despite the aurora borealis dancing in perfect highlights over the chiseled contours of his face, his eyes were shadowed, holding secrets that suddenly she had to claim for her own. She gave him a fierce little smile, teeth barred. “Maybe I’ll be deep and dark and dangerous myself.”

  Those secrets stirred, swirling like a whirlpool. “Maybe you will. Not quite sure I believe it though."

  The provocation in his words made her press defiantly into his hold. The new alignment shifted her body under him, her thighs bumping his. With her lower leg still crooked behind his knees, the position brought the mound of her pubic bone up against the hard swell at his midline. She flared her eyes wide to meet his half-lidded gaze. And his wicked smirk held zero interstellar secrets.

  She canted her hips into a concave arc to take better measure of his intent. "Rising desire?" she whispered.

  "Rising like a torpedo. You have those on your world, yes?"

  She huffed a laugh in the back of her throat. "Torpedoes? Yes. I've even launched a few."

  "I"—he echoed the angle of her hips in reverse, filling the space she'd made—“have not." When she gasped again, half surprise and half from the pleasure of his bulk, he added, "Oh, I've launched actual torpedoes, but what I meant was—"

  "I know what you meant," she assured him. "You're a virgin?"

  He paused with that head tilt she associated with his translation device. "Between the war, the limited number of Tritonesse, and my lower status, I've never had the chance to mate. But I am not completely without experience. And I’ve received all of my necessary shots against infection and unwanted impregnation."

  She blinked up at him. "I can't believe I'm contemplating having sex with an alien."

  "I need you to believe." The gravity was back in his voice, pulling her down from her bemusement. "You should believe what you see, what you taste, what you feel. The more impossible the universe seems, the more you need to trust yourself."

  To her humiliation, tears prickled in her eyes. "How can I believe in myself when no one else wants to?"

  "I want to," he said with savage emotion. "I want you."

  Anchoring one arm at the small of her back, he hauled her up against his chest, and the swimmer’s muscles there that pressed against her were nothing compared to the hot, hard brand of his rampant erection. The intruding pheromone had flushed out of her body, but raw intrinsic desire rose to take its place, pouring down those empty pathways in rivulets of fire, shocking her with its intensity.

  She didn't have the excuses he did of war and lack of available lovers, but it had been so long since she'd had sex. Was there a statute of limitations that she's exceeded where she could no longer claim to know her own wishes?

  A surge of shyness made her close her eyes, trying to recapture the rush of hunger that made moments like this simpler, just a gust of wanting, soon to blow out.

  But Mael was having none of it. "Ridley?" He lifted himself away from her, just enough to let the chill of the night between them along with even colder common sense. "Are you freaking out again?"

  Her eyes snapped opened inadvertently. "No! You're not that deep or dark or dangerous."

  At her bravado, his grin morphed into something even more wicked. "Do you want to see how deep?"

  From her first warm California mornings on a surfboard to the clandestine night dives she'd done for the Navy, she'd drilled in safety and security. For the first time in longer than it had been since she'd had sex, she let herself sink into the moment—maybe not yet trusting in herself but ready to find out if she could.

  She lifted herself up to his body, plastering against him so she could wriggle out of her wet underthings. His hands were right there, holding her up, supporting her, and his mouth followed right behind, mapping every curve as if he'd be flying it blind. The low growl in the back of his throat rumbled through her deliciously, setting off tremblors of lust from every nerve ending. With hands and lips and breath, he traced his way down her body, circling her breasts until her nipples were peaked and tingling, over her belly on the verge of tickling so she writhed, leaving her burning hotter and higher until she had to cling to the straps of his battle skin, braiding her fingers in the skeins of his dark hair just to keep herself from floating away on the flood of sensation.

  His mouth over her pussy made her cry out, but as his tongue went deep—just as promised—the sound cut out in a moan. His answering low groan vibrated all the way through her, stoking her pleasure to a quivering apex.

  Before she could lose it, she shimmied down under his body, wrapped both legs around him, and flipped him to his back.

  His iceberg eyes were molten, all the glimmer of the stars above her melting into twin pools of silver. Brow furrowing, he clamped his hands on her bare hips. “Was that…not enough?”

  “Too much.” She tightened her knees around his flanks, rubbing herself on him. “And I want more.” Scooting back to his thighs, she released the harness buckles around his hips with quick fingers to free the hot bulk of flesh she’d been grinding on.

  When the perfectly proportioned erection surged into her hands, a relieved breath gusted out of her.

  He peered up. “Not enough or too much?”

  “Just right,” she purred. He’d said the humanoid form was a versatile template, and she’d gotten a good grope or two, enough to be semi-confident they could make this work. She wasn’t going to panic at the mysterious deeps beyond her understanding, not anymore. Quenching this thirst would wash away the last of her niggling sense that the universe was punking her—again.

  Or so she told herself. But when she eased the blunted point of his shaft between her legs, the pleasure he’d primed in her took over. Her breaths came faster, broken and yearning, as she bounced on him. Then his hands were on her again, steadying her, finding the rhythm old as oceans. When he arched his ass off the ground, diving upward into her, she threw her head back, vision full of dark sky and bright stars, body full of him as he climaxed with a hoarse cry. She followed a heartbeat later in silence, every muscle contracting ferociously around him.

  Orgasmic ecstasy held her suspended for an eternity, pierced on his cock, dazzled by the deeps of the night above her…b
ut in the end, gravity was a bitch.

  She collapsed over his chest with a whimper, and he let out a breathless oof of his own.

  For another long moment, they lay entangled, his big hands cupped over her ass, her head nestled on his shoulder.

  Finally, he sighed again. “The IDA might’ve been a ruse, but we most definitely match.”

  She chuckled across his chest. “I might not have believed it before, but”—she angled her face to meet his gaze—“I can’t question it now.”

  The bioluminescence he’d told her he couldn’t quite control had faded, and in the darkness his eyes were shadowed again. “Keep your questioning. There’s still a lot we don’t know.”

  Though she shivered at the chill off the water, she forced an unwavering reply. “And I’m ready to go after it.”

  But when she clambered up to grab her clothes, her knees rattled and she almost tipped over.

  From behind her, he grabbed her elbow. “Slowly,” he murmured, drawing her back against his chest. “You’ve had more than one shock just tonight.”

  She leaned back into him. “Is that the Tritonyri word for sex?”

  He nipped her ear, drawing a startled yelp from her. “We call it making waves.”

  Twisting in the confines of his embrace, she peered up. “Really?”

  “Also, blowing bubbles, pearl diving—”

  “Enough.”

  “Just right,” he said smugly.

  After helping her dress, he pulled her back into his arms and then lifted her.

  “Hey.” But she found herself clinging to his neck despite her half-hearted protest.

  “Can’t let the scans see two of us.”

  She curled into his chest. “Oh my god. I totally forgot about that. Do you think your commander saw?”

  “We call it the beast with two tails.”

  “Stop,” she whined.

  She got her boots back under her before they reached the car. Patting her pockets, she swore. “The keys…”

  A familiar jangle brought her whirling around. “I hear Earther males do the driving.”

  Going through her pockets while pretending to snuggle her? She glared at him. “What if I freak out again about an alien behind the wheel?”

  “I watched you before. It seemed self-explanatory.” He shook his head. “And don’t joke about that.”

  She hugged herself while he fumbled with the lock for a moment. After their brisk exercise—the walk back, not what they’d done before—she was warm enough, but the touch of her own hands seemed to conjure up phantom sensations of him: his weight, his kiss, his heat. The memory of her panic was eclipsed. “We’ll see about your driving. At least you steered me out of the panic attack. For now.” She let out a shuddering breath. “But maybe I should’ve stayed unconscious.” Cold, hard reality sunk her like a depth charge she couldn’t avoid. “I think my Wavercrest Syndrome is getting worse.”

  “I think there isn’t a syndrome.” The latch popped and he opened the door for her.

  She swayed, staring at him. “What? What do you mean by that?”

  “Let’s get back to Wavercrest.” He put one hand on her shoulder, urging her into the car. “Your friends should hear this, and my commander as well.”

  Wrinkling her nose in protest, she resisted. “You’re definitely gonna make me freak out if you don’t tell me.”

  His fingers flexed, not pushing this time, almost holding tight. “I won’t take you under by yourself, not again.” He let out a breath. “Please, Ridley. Just wait.”

  At his beseeching tone, she deflated into the passenger seat.

  He walked around to the driver side and folded his oversized frame into the seat beside her. His big hands wrapped around the steering wheel. “You probably think I’m being overprotective.”

  “You told me why,” she said quietly. “I’ll wait until we’re together with the others.”

  He cast her a grateful look and then peeled out onto the gravel road like he’d been commandeering cars his whole life—as easily as he’d taken command of her.

  Chapter 12

  As wound up and curious as she was, Ridley wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop herself from harassing him to reveal his secrets. Instead, she fell asleep when they hit the smooth highway.

  The release of pressure as her door opening and the rush of the night breeze roused her. Muzzily, she rotated her head against the backrest to blink at him. “Are we home?”

  “Back anyway.”

  Before she could swing her legs out, he was scooping her out of her seat. “Hey!” She clutched at his neck. “Maybe I can’t dive but I can walk.”

  “I’m not taking a chance on you floating away from me again.”

  How could she float if they weren’t in the water anymore? With a sigh, she rested her head on his shoulder, every curve of her body seeming to find a resting place against his. Yeah, she was weak, dammit. She’d be tough again when they got through the doorway.

  Since Thomas was waiting in the foyer, it was easy to tense up and wriggle out of Mael’s arms, especially when the older man looked worried. “Are you all right, Miss Ridley?”

  “I’m fine.” Without alien arms around her, the night seemed too cold, but at least now her face was blazing. Great.

  “She had a shock.” Mael didn’t let go of her until she was steady. “And I’m afraid I have another one. Please bring restoratives to the library.”

  Thomas stared at him for another moment then hustled away, obviously convinced by something he’d seen in the other man’s face. Ridley stifled a shaky laugh; maybe Maelstrom had thought he was done being a leader, but clearly he still had the knack.

  Hell, she’d let him drag her under repeatedly, right to the brink of disaster…and then over the edge into ecstasy. Her amusement faded. “I need to change.”

  In the subdued lights reflecting off the white marble, his eyes glinted, reminding her once again of a dangerous iceberg. “Oh, you’re going to change all right,” he murmured ominously.

  With extra side eye, she sidled away from him. “Wait for me, yeah?”

  “Can’t go anywhere,” he tossed over his shoulder as he strode into the library.

  Shaking her head at the cryptic comment, she hustled up to her borrowed bedroom. Catching a whiff of lake water on her skin—and the stormier scent of erotic ocean that was Mael—she shivered and diverted to the bathroom. She gazed longingly at the big tub. If only she could fill it to the rim and sink to her chin. But without Mael to make sure she didn’t drown… She shivered again, a full-body spasm that almost tripped her. Dammit, if even the image of a bubble bath was going to bring her down, she really was doomed.

  Or was it the thought of the big, brawny alien weakening her knees?

  She showered quickly, the touch of the hot droplets making her cringe. Had diving with Maelstrom made the syndrome symptoms worse? Or had boning him made it better? God knew, she’d always had a flair for making her life more complicated.

  But why did he think the syndrome wasn’t the problem?

  She dressed in her biggest, most comfy hoodie and cargo pants plus fuzzy socks. Not bothering with her boots, she slouched back downstairs. Her stockinged feet were silent on the marble treads, and the murmur of voices from the library made her pause on the last step.

  No one had heard her coming. Maybe she should just…keep going. Right out the door, into the damp car, aim for someplace in the desert. Because whatever message Maelstrom was about to deliver wasn’t going to be good. She’d heard the warning in his tone even if he’d held back the actual words. And she’d heard that tone too often over the years. No matter how hard she tried, she’d always ended up on the outside, so maybe she could be the one to leave this time. She couldn’t dive anymore, maybe hadn’t even walked, but she could still fucking run.

  “Miss Ridley, are you sure everything is all right?” Thomas’s voice shattered the moment.

  “I doubt it,” she said. “But I guess all
right’s never really been a benchmark for what needs doing, has it?”

  “Not that I’ve noticed,” Thomas admitted. “May I have your assistance carrying all this to the library?”

  “At least I can do that.” She took one of the two trays he had balanced on his hands. “Cake and ice cream,” she said approvingly. “Definitely seems restorative to me.”

  “And I already restocked the bar in the library,” Thomas said. “We could add a protein and fiber later, but Mister Maelstrom’s attitude seemed to call for something more uplifting to start.”

  As they walked into the library side by side, Marisol and Lana made happy noises at the sight of the cake in her grip. Ridley shook her head in bemusement. She’d joined the Navy partly to help bring order to other people’s lives; she hadn’t realized that waitressing could’ve had the same results.

  Mael accepted a dessert plate from Thomas, although his gaze lingered on her as if she were the sweet snack.

  Once the sugar was properly distributed via frosting and alcohol, Maelstrom made them all sit down in the ring of seats next to the fireplace. “You too, Thomas. This may affect you as well. Although can I get another piece of cake first, please?”

  Ridley watched him through narrowed eyes. He was delaying, trying to put them at ease with his “absurdly large man holds tiny plate of yummy cake” incongruence.

  But as he wolfed down the second piece in three bites, she noticed his fingers on the thin crystal dessert plate held tight enough to blanch his knuckles. She should probably be more freaked out that he was freaked out, but for some reason his hesitation amused her.

  “I’ve waited long enough,” she told him. “So spit it out.”

  He looked up at her from under his dark lashes and stopped chewing. “Mumph?” he mumbled.

  “No, don’t spit out the cake,” Marisol said impatiently. “Tell us why we’re here.”

  With a silent sigh that nevertheless heaved his broad chest, he set aside the empty plate and swallowed down most of a tumbler of Ridley’s preferred tequila so fast her own head spun. He paced a few steps away before wheeling around to face them all. “You’re here,” he rasped, “here in this room and here on Earth because your ancestors left Tritona.”