Kiss Across Worlds (Kiss Across Time Book 7)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  “Where?”

  “The office, where you said you were looking for me.”

  “Why in twenty minutes?”

  “Because, as you keep pointing out, I’m human. I must eat, sleep and…other things. I’ll meet you in the office in twenty minutes. We have work to do.”

  Remi turned and stalked down the passage in the direction of the front staircase. Neven watched his squared shoulders and the pace of his stride. Was Remi pissed? It was difficult to read him, most of the time. He was used to hiding his true thoughts and feelings.

  Neven pushed open the door and moved inside. He considered locking the door, only that had not stopped Remi last night. The staff who cleaned the suite probably had a key, too.

  He pulled off the jacket and tossed it, then quickly removed the rest of his borrowed clothes. His cock was still swollen and stiff and throbbing. He had let Remi think he needed to take care of other human biological needs. What he wanted—needed—was to get under running water and wash away the arousal.

  The ensuite featured a shower stall that was a full-sized tiled alcove with a wooden seat and two shower heads. Of course, two people probably used the thing at the same time. Remi and Kristijan had been lovers for a long time.

  He turned on the shower, made sure the water was good and hot, then slid beneath it with a sigh that was almost one of relief. Since Tira had tried to drown him, large bodies of water like ponds and lakes, with their opaque, often muddy water, could make him break out in sweat and start to hyperventilate. Running water, though, with its calming susurrations and warmth, had the opposite effect. It muffled raging thoughts, surrounded him with something other than the black nothingness of the timescape. It reminded him of his humanness.

  He leaned his hand against the wall and closed his eyes, while the water beat at his head and cascaded down his aching body and deliberately ordered his thoughts.

  He wanted London. That was hardly a shock. Elle had influenced his taste in women throughout his adult life and here she was in person, once more, a beautiful titian. Now he was older, he could appreciate her subtle, powerful allure far more than the teenager he had been when Elle had come into his life. Her impact had been deep even so. Now, it was even stronger.

  He had barely held himself away from her. The look in her eyes had been unmistakable. For a small moment she had looked at him with the eyes of a lover, yearning for a kiss.

  The only thing stopping him had been the cold dash of realization: It was Kristijan she wanted, not Neven.

  Everything that Neven had learned about Kristijan convinced him that the last thing he wanted was to become Kristijan in any way, even if it meant he couldn’t have London. He would not prey upon her vulnerability like that, because he knew that Kristijan would have. He would not have hesitated. Kristijan had used her same weakness against her when he married her and controlled her life.

  Neven leaned his head against his hand, splayed against the tiles and breathed through the tight knot in his chest. He remembered the taste of her lips and their softness, from last night. Her scent.

  He groaned. The thoughts were not helping him regain a calm, centered mind.

  When the bathroom door opened and Remi came in, Neven was barely surprised. He watched through the steamy glass walls of the shower as Remi stripped. Neven’s heart was hammering.

  Remi met his gaze through the glass. “You like what I did to you last night.”

  True. Neven was not enough of a hypocrite to deny that.

  “I heard the shower start. I could smell your arousal, when you left her.”

  Was that why Remi had come back to find him? Had he suspected? Well, now he knew.

  “She wants Kristijan, not me,” Neven told him. “So do you.”

  Remi opened the door to the shower and stepped in. His cock was beating against his belly, already fully erect. He had a strong upper body. It would have been strong even when he was human. Even though he was not as tall as Neven, the inch difference didn’t matter.

  Neven turned to face him as he cranked the second faucet, to bring the other showerhead online. The hot spray instantly doused him, making his body glisten. “I’m not confused, the way she is,” Remi said. “I know what I want.”

  “Sex,” Neven concluded.

  “That is part of it, yes.” Contrariwise, he stayed where he was. He didn’t try to press against Neven, or force the issue. He just watched with his interesting eyes.

  Why not? The question formed clearly in his mind as Neven considered Remi. The man was a practiced and habitual liar and Neven suspected he was lying right now, too. Of course he wanted Kristijan. Of course he probably missed him. Neven could only be a handy substitute.

  Did Remi’s motivations matter right now? Did his? Neven still ached for physical release and Remi was there in front of him.

  Neven moved across the stall and pushed on Remi’s shoulder, pressing him up against the tiles. He heard Remi’s breath escape in a gasp that was nearly lost beneath the murmur of running water. He’d surprised him. It was good to know he could.

  Remi’s gaze met his. He wasn’t smiling. He didn’t look pleased because he was about to get what he wanted. He merely watched, with a hint of wariness in his eyes.

  Neven kissed him. He took his time with it, getting used to the taste of him and registering the differences between kissing a man and a woman. They were minor. Pleasure was still there. Neven let himself enjoy that pleasure. He thrust his tongue into Remi’s mouth, stroking his.

  Remi pulled his head away and looked at him, his breath rapid. “Careful,” he said, his voice low. “You’ve never kissed a vampire before, have you?”

  “No.”

  “My fangs are made for tearing human flesh. Arousal…can make them descend.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Neven assured him and kissed him again, as the water pummeled his back, adding a featherweight stroke of its own. He turned Remi around…or Remi allowed Neven to turn him. He pressed up against him, enjoying the size and length of him and how he fitted up against Neven. Even his cock was pressed up against Remi’s tight ass. It throbbed, stirred by the touch.

  Remi didn’t try to do anything but stand there and accept what Neven chose to do. Neven could feel the need to drive himself into him building. He took his time, exploring the curves and shape of the man. He knew what he liked done to him, so he tried those same things on Remi. He stroked his back, cupped his ass and squeezed and let his fingers slide between Remi’s cheeks.

  Remi’s hand curled into a fist against the tiles and he groaned. “Deeper,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  Neven wasn’t finished experimenting, yet. He reached around his waist and slid his hands down to the junction of his thighs. He fingered the soft sacs there, then cupped them and squeezed.

  Remi jerked against him, his hips thrusting.

  Neven smiled. This was the first time he had truly felt as if he had the upper hand over Remi.

  He reached over to the soap dispenser and squirted a handful into his palm, then spread it over Remi’s lower back and his ass, appreciating the hard muscle beneath the flesh.

  He pressed against the back of Remi’s thigh, forcing him to lift his knee. “Put your foot on the bench,” he told him.

  Remi obeyed. That opened him up for better exploration. Using the soap as a lubricant, he pushed his hand between Remi’s cheeks, following the curve around and under. He felt the softness of his balls against his fingertips, then slid his fingers back, to the underside of his perineum and stroked.

  Remi almost bucked underneath him.

  Yes, it was the same for Remi as it was for him. Pressure there was enough, sometimes, to make him come.

  Keeping up the stroke, he moved his thumb back and up and pressed against the tight ring of muscle.

  Remi’s head dropped back. Neven could see his eyes were closed and his jaw was working as he tried to control his reaction.

  Pleased, Neven reached for the soap again.
/>   “The other dispenser,” Remi said hoarsely.

  The wall unit had two dispensers. Neven pumped the other one and gel oozed onto his palm. Lubricant on tap.

  Carefully, he coated his cock in the gel. It was thick and didn’t immediately wash away. Then he turned to Remi. He had experienced anal sex with dozens of partners, all of them women. This would be his first man, only the principles were the same. The pleasure would be the same, too, he suspected. He probed with his gel-coated fingers, spreading the hard muscle and working the lubricant inside.

  Remi was groaning. The deeper tone of his response, compared to a woman’s soft moans, were not at all jarring. They were, in fact, pleasing.

  Neven guided the tip of his cock up against him, feeling the pressure of the ring of muscle against him. He eased inside, waited for Remi to adjust around him, then pushed in deeper.

  It was every bit as good as sliding into a woman. Muscle wrapped around him and squeezed.

  Neven gripped Remi’s hips, his own twitching with the need to come. He thrust, trying to control the rhythm, only he was too close, too wound up. He wouldn’t be able to draw this out for more than a heartbeat or two.

  He reached around Remi once more, with his gel-slicked hand and grasped his cock. The heat of it surprised him. Remi was cool to the touch, except where the heated water had warmed his flesh. His cock was a blazing pole.

  At his touch, Remi hammered at the tiles. The tendons in his neck stood out, as he strained to come, his body working to reach climax.

  Neven rammed his cock into him, racing towards his own powerful orgasm. He couldn’t slow the pace. He could do nothing but brace himself and let the climax hit him.

  It seemed to pull up from his toes, tearing through his nerves and shredding them. He blasted cum in hard jerks, as the climax seemed to steal even his sight from him for a faint moment.

  He heard Remi groan again, as he came. It was a hard sound. In Neven’s hand, he felt his cock pulse deeply.

  His knees locked and for a moment, Neven couldn’t move. His nerves and tendons were too strained to respond. Even his heart hurt with the power of the release.

  Finally, he could step back. His cock pulled out of Remi, still rampantly erect despite the climax. The need to drive himself into something had abated, though. For now.

  Remi turned around. His chest was heaving. A sleepy look showed in his eyes, beneath hooded lids. “I was right. You fuck as well as he did.”

  Did. Past tense.

  “You know what happened to Kristijan, don’t you?” Neven asked. His own voice sounded as used as Remi’s.

  “Do you care? You just want the shipment stopped.”

  “I do. I also want to know why you’re even thinking about it. You worked with him. You set it up in the first place. Why help me dismantle it now?”

  Something shifted in Remi’s eyes. The satisfaction in his face disappeared. “Maybe I have my own reasons.”

  “How can I trust you?” Neven asked.

  Remi moved through the twin streams of water, coming right up to him, to the point where their bodies were almost meeting. This close, Neven could see the green flecks in his eyes. “You can’t trust me, human,” he said, his voice low. “I have my own agenda. I always have. Even he didn’t remember that.”

  He stepped out of the stall, shoving the door aside and yanked one of the big towels from the pile on the shelf. He left, not quite slamming the door behind him.

  What was Remi’s agenda, then? Neven knew he would have to find out what Remi wanted, in order to measure if he could trust him. He had to trust him—Remi was the key to destroying Kristijan’s empire and keeping it out of the hands of the Russians.

  Chapter Fifteen

  During the Second World War, the then country of Yugoslavia had been torn apart by the divided loyalties of the country. The Partisans and the Chetniks fought for both sides, creating a civil war where sons fought fathers and each other, while mothers and daughters worked subversively, betraying those they loved every day.

  The Germans built supply depots and rail lines all through the country, in an effort to supply their troops holding back the Russian and Allied advances on their eastern domains.

  When the war was over, the “strategically positioned” depots and lines became useless, for they were rarely close to communities who could use them. Fences were put up around the bombed-out facilities and gradually, they were forgotten.

  Which was why no one had thought to dig up an early twentieth century map and look, Marit reasoned, as she stared down at the big brown smudge at the bottom of the valley. Even her parents, all history nuts of one degree or another, had concentrated on current sidings.

  Marit and Alannah were lying on a shelf about two hundred feet up from the bottom of the valley. Alannah had jumped them here with pinpoint accuracy, which had impressed even Marit. The air up here was thin and cold. It was five in the morning, local time. The sun had just come up. It was weak and watery. Wisps of cloud covered it, sending shadows racing across the valley floor.

  Not that the depot needed shadows to look any more depressing than it already did. Nothing moved down there. There were no weeds. Nothing grew inside the fence despite seventy years of seasons. It was as if nature herself spurned the site.

  “I can’t see anyone,” Alannah said.

  “Doesn’t mean they’re not there,” Marit told her.

  “You’re sure this is where they’re keeping Aran? Are you sure you found the right bookmark, I mean? Maybe you were supposed to come here somewhere in the future.”

  “I wasn’t sure until we got here. Now I am.”

  “Why?”

  Marit nodded down at the ruins of the station, the bombed-out remains of the platform and the overturned carriages and flatbeds. “What do you see?”

  “Nothing!”

  “Look!”

  Alannah sighed. “Dirt. Train bits everywhere.”

  “What’s on them?”

  Alannah peered. “Are they…that bent thing, is that a big gun?”

  Marit nodded. “Mounted anti-tank gun, I think. Pretty lethal things. What else?”

  Alannah shrugged. “Tracks.”

  “What’s different about them, compared to train tracks back home?”

  Alannah considered them. “There’s a shit ton of them,” she declared, sounding just like Brody, when he was getting frustrated with Veris’ interrogations.

  Marit relented. “They’re almost completely covered in packed down dirt. You can’t see the ties beneath them.”

  Alannah nodded. “You’re right. Does that mean something?”

  “It just means the tracks haven’t been used for a long time.”

  “Seventy years, you thought.”

  “Probably,” Marit said. “Look at that one track on the edge, though. The one that runs past the platform where the station building is. There, on the far side.”

  Alannah had been cued by Marit’s questions. She peered, examining it closely. “It’s shiny!” She looked at Marit, her big eyes widening. “Someone has used it not long ago!”

  Marit nodded. “There are dark funnels in the dirt on the insides of those rails. That means a train used them. And we can’t see all the way under that roof over the station itself.”

  “We can see most of it. The roof has got holes everywhere.”

  “Just not the section at the back there. It’s mysteriously complete, not a single sheet of the corrugated iron missing.”

  Alannah sat up and brushed the dirt off her hands. “Someone put it there.”

  “And made it look as old as the rest,” Marit said in agreement. She sat up, too. “Still want to do this, sis?”

  Alannah rolled her eyes. “Stupid question. Besides, if I don’t do it, then you would be breaking your word, because then it will be just you doing it and you promised that you wouldn’t do anything. If I help, then it’s not just you, it’s us.”

  Marit couldn’t help smiling. “Athair will
like the hair-splitting, once he calms down.”

  Alannah got to her feet. “I can see a spot down there we could jump to. It’s clear and even. Come on.”

  Marit got up. “Just remember, no talking when we get down there. There will be guards. We just have to jump out of sight every time we spot one.”

  “I know, I know,” Alannah said, holding out her arm towards Marit. “Jump ahead, jump around, keep moving, don’t be seen, find Aran.”

  “Exactly. Get all your talking out of you now, before we go. Once we down there, don’t let go. If we get split up, jump back home and wait next to the West Chop Light. I’ll find you there.”

  Alannah looked down at the depot below, her irritation fading. “I don’t think I need to talk anymore. All my spit has dried up.” She swallowed.

  Marit wound her arm around Alannah’s waist. “Let’s get it done, then. My spit has all gone, too.”

  * * * * *

  Down in the valley itself, the air was only slightly warmer. The elevation here was part of the reason the depot had been overlooked by Athair and Far and Alexander. The isolation was the other reason. There were no villages this high up. Božidarko, which was the nearest settlement, had a rail line of its own, that connected up directly with Leskovac.

  Alan’s arm around her waist with vise-like. Marit looked quickly about them. The platform was right next to them and she was astonished to see it was higher than she thought. It had looked to be waist high, from up on the shelf. It was, in fact, level with her shoulder. They couldn’t just step onto it. However, that meant they could duck down beneath it if they had too.

  She scanned the tracks running under the big metal roof. There were more overturned train cars and rubble. The track under their feet was clear, though. Marit looked for sentries. She presumed there would be men with guns, prowling warily.

  Alan tapped her shoulder and pointed up. Marit lifted her chin.

  Cameras.

  “Shit,” she breathed.

  “That makes it certain, doesn’t it?” Alan whispered.

  “Can you see into the building from here?” Marit asked.

  “Just that tiny slice through the big door, there. It’s dark.”