Alawahea

by Sara L Daigle

  A wave of capitulation washed over Tamara as she let her bra fall to the bed. She moved so she sat on the bed against the wall. “Except that he’s in the middle of an interview, remember? We can’t interrupt him yet.” Why she was having so much fun teasing Alarin, she wasn’t sure, except that her experience with Merran these past several months had given her quite a bit more confidence.

  Alarin growled, the sound sending a shiver up her spine. “Fine, but he’s not going to get much warning once that interview’s over.” Moving stiffly, he crouched and picked up her shirt. “Put that back on, or interview or no interview, I’m going to finish what we started.” Climbing on the bed beside her, he leaned against the wall, resting his head against it and closing his eyes.

  Tamara slipped on the shirt. “What does it look like anyway?” she asked after a few moments. “I’m always in the middle, so I would never know.”

  “There’s actually not all that much to see if you can’t sense the psi part of it. If he weren’t having to juggle the political situation of our talents, Justern’s trial and Healers, we’d be finishing this right now. He could hide his distraction from a human. Until he was to stand up at least.”

  “Do you actually … orgasm?” She could feel her face get hot.

  He cracked open an eye and looked at her. “You try ignoring me having sex with you and see how far you get. It’s not easy, especially when the two of you are stimulating every erotic center I have.”

  “Okay, got it.” She shook her head. “Let’s change the subject.”

  He grinned, opening his other eye and suddenly looking more relaxed. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing to excite the situation even more right now. What about your family? What are they like? Are they as nuts as mine?”

  “Probably more. Are you willing to link with me? I can show you some memories.”

  She smiled at him and nodded. “Okay, let’s try.”

  She slipped into his mind, rather surprised at how easy it was becoming. Her training with Greg was paying off. He let her read a few memories, calling them to mind and laying them out in front of her. They stayed away from touching anything too deep, although it was tempting. She lay down on the bed, her mind’s eye far away on Azelle, stretching her legs across Alarin’s lap. He rested his hands on her thighs, a light touch that enhanced the contact.

  A knock on her door interrupted them, making her abruptly focus on the now rather than the vistas of Azelle in Alarin’s head. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Aunt Stacie. We noticed you weren’t downstairs.You came up right after dinner. Are you all right, honey?” The doorknob rattled.

  Tamara exchanged a glance with Alarin. “I’m fine, Aunt Stacie. I just got really tired and came up here to sleep.” She put as much sleepy distortion into her voice as she could.

  “Are you sure, honey? Did you want to come down and have a snack? Spend some time with us before bed?” Tamara turned to the clock and frowned. Had so much time gone by already?

  “I don’t feel up to coming downstairs right now. I think I’m going to go to bed.” She spoke to Alarin mentally as she got up. I’m going to have to let her in, or she’s going to think I’m lying. Could you get in the closet? I promise to make it quick.

  Alarin’s grin was mischievous. He leaned forward and kissed her hard, his hands and tongue driving her almost instantly wild, besides startling her out of her wits. He broke off the kiss and slid off the bed just as she was ready to tell Aunt Stacie to go to hell. Merran’s done with his interview.

  How he knew that, she refused to ask. She got off the bed, pulled back the sheets, and as Alarin disappeared into the closet, Tamara unlocked the door. She tried to look sleepy but probably only succeeded in looking startled. Her portly aunt stood there with concern written all over her face. “I’m okay, Aunt Stacie. Really, I am. I haven’t been getting much sleep lately.”

  “You need to eat something, honey. Come downstairs with me,” her aunt pressed on.

  Alarin continued his mischief. Still wrapped up in his mind, she could not escape his mental caresses. Her attempt to raise a shield between them failed miserably. “No, thank you, Aunt Stacie. I think sleep’s more important.”

  “Nothing’s more important than food at times like these, dear.” Tamara couldn’t stop the sarcastic little thought that bubbled up in response to her aunt’s statement. She could hear a muffled noise from the closet as Alarin picked up her thought and hastily covered a laugh. “What was that?” Her aunt looked around the room.

  Tamara wished now that she had never opened the door. “Nothing, Aunt Stacie.” She yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Please, Aunt Stacie, I really need some time alone. I’ve had a long day, and I just need to take it easy.”

  Her aunt peered at her. “I don’t know—”

  Tamara felt the mental nudge that Alarin gave her aunt. It was not particularly polite or gentle. “Aunt Stacie, I’ll be fine. Just tell everyone I’ve gone to bed. All right?”

  Helpless against Alarin’s will, Aunt Stacie backed out of the room. “All right, if you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. Thank you for thinking of me, and good night.” Tamara closed the door and locked it again. Alarin opened the closet door and stepped out. “Useful talent, that,” she whispered, so her aunt who still hovered uncertainly outside the door didn’t hear her.

  He smiled. “Well, I didn’t think she was going to take no for an answer and there was no way I was going to let her get between us.” He walked over to her. “Merran’s done with his interview, and I have no intention of letting you change your mind.” He bent over to kiss her, sliding his hands up under her shirt and stripping it over her head. Dropping the shirt to the ground, he pulled away briefly and looked down at her. She shivered at the look in his eyes. His eyes were very, very green, the heat in them enough to set her on fire. His hands trembled slighty as he lifted long fingers to cup her breast, massaging it lightly, tracing the edge of it.

  “By the aarya’s eyes, I’ve wanted you for a long time,” he murmured, lowering his head to kiss her breast, his breath hot on her skin. Tamara’s breath caught as he focused on one breast, then the other. She moaned slightly, arching back. Alarin lifted his head after a few moments.

  “Like that?” he asked, a smile playing at the edge of his lips.

  Instead of answering, she pulled him to his feet and kissed him passionately. He made a grunting sound that caused her whole body to contract. Alarin walked her back toward the bed, his hands pulling her against him. She could feel him pressed against her as he twirled the two of them around, pulling her the last few inches down to her bed. As she opened her shields and let Alarin slide into the depths of her mind, she could feel the arousal spilling through him—powerful, intense, and exciting. As they linked, she could feel Merran slide in to link with them also. For an insane moment, it felt as though Alarin had four sets of hands and two mouths, caressing her sensitized skin beyond anything she’d ever experienced before. She groaned and shuddered.

  That sensation was a bit more than she was ready for, so she let herself get distracted by the sight of Alarin pulling back to tug off his t-shirt, unbuttoning his jeans and shimmying out of them. As he kicked off his jeans and climbed back on the bed, she couldn’t help but notice he was built longer but thinner than Merran—she had to hastily hide that thought behind shields, hoping desperately neither one of them had picked it up. She’d been sharing her orgasms with Alarin for the past month, so it should have felt the same to have switched which man was in her physical bed and which was sharing the psi sex, but as Alarin slid down beside her, his body and mind quivering with nearly overwhelming excitement and desire, it didn’t. It felt different—wilder and less controlled. Alarin was so incredibly responsive, reacting strongly to everything she did, encouraging her to do more. She slipped her hand down his bare chest, and lower, tracing her hand over him, indulging herself in a way she never would have with Merran. H
e groaned and stopped her, his hand on her wrist.

  “You have to stop that,” he murmured, sounding breathless. “I won’t last if you do that and there’s no way this is ending that soon.”

  “Do you have to go back to your room tonight?” she asked, rubbing against him, trying to entice him closer.

  “No, I’m supposed to be spending the night with Justy.”

  “Then who says it has to be only once?”

  He made that sound low in his throat again, a shiver taking his whole body. Tamara gave in to her own desires and rolled them over. Pushing him onto his back, she straddled him and took the choice out of his hands. He gasped, his eyelids fluttering closed as she slid over him and moved against his body, setting the rhythm. His mind curled around hers and touched her mentally in such a way that she was sent into immediate, intense orgasm, taking Tamara totally by surprise. Alarin’s hands gripped her hips as he shuddered. The release when it came wrenched through his entire body, sharing her explosive climax and spilling it back into Merran.

  She collapsed onto the bed beside him, pleasantly exhausted, her body vibrating with the aftermath. Alarin traced circles on her stomach, making her skin twitch as she lay on the bed propped up beside him. She closed her eyes. “Do you … uh … do you think Merran was able to get away from what he was doing? I hope he really was all right with this.”

  Alarin ran his fingertips lightly over her skin, the expression on his face taking her breath away. A mixture of desire and tenderness, it was erotic and stimulating and overwhelming all at once. She had to remind herself to breathe. “He was. Just ask him.”

  Dizzy, ready to be distracted from the intensity in Alarin’s eyes, Tamara reached inward and brushed Merran’s mind. He welcomed her and let her see that he had been in his office, so the side effects could be well concealed. After giving her a mental hug, he pulled shields up and returned to the project he’d been working on. “How can he do that?” she asked, confused by the ease with which he went back to work and the fact that he really didn’t seem to care that she and Alarin had just made love.

  “Merran can snap to focus within minutes if he needs to. He never completely gives up control. You need to be able to splinter your awareness in order to even start to do what he does. It’s not easy, and is usually something only people in very sensitive jobs do. Healers, politicians, people like that. I can’t do it. But considering if I could do it I wouldn’t be able to share with you like this, I’m not sure I’d want to.” All thoughts of Merran scattered as Alarin leaned over to kiss her again, his mind sliding through hers in a very sensual way, using mind, hands, and body to erase anything resembling thought from her mind.

  Sleep came quickly, more quickly than she expected, as they snuggled together with their legs entwined. Tamara relaxed completely for the first time since her mother died.

  Morning and awareness came too quickly—as did an instant complication in Tamara’s plans. It was far later than she’d meant to sleep for one thing, which made getting Alarin out of the house rather problematic. She could hear people moving around downstairs. She jumped up, scrambling over a startled Alarin. “Shit!”

  Alarin rubbed his eyes. “Do you always wake up that way?” He yawned.

  “It’s later than I wanted to wake up.” Tamara grabbed a clean pair of underwear and a new set of clothes. “I still have to get you out of here, and there’s a house full of nosy relatives downstairs.”

  Alarin sat up, the sheet falling off his body. As unselfconscious as Merran, he got out of bed. If she hadn’t been so worried about getting him safely out of her room, she would have found his half-erect state enticing. As it was, he ignored it, and so did she. “Not a problem.”

  “Like how? I’m supposed to explain that I had you in my room for an undefined period of time, doing exactly what? They’ll accurately suspect we were doing what we were doing.”

  Alarin grinned and came over to her. He kissed her lingeringly. “I don’t think they’ll ever know the full story. Besides, does it really matter?”

  “Well, I think it would be considered a little rude that you spent the night with me in my dad’s house.” Tamara said crossly, although she did respond amorously to his kiss.

  Alarin’s shields hung loose, revealing a singular lack of concern as he reached for his clothes. “We’ll get me out of here, Tamara dear.”

  They had made it most of the way down the hall when Justern came out of the room where he’d been almost completely exiled since the funeral.

  He grinned at Tamara. “I see. Sneaking Alarin out, eh?”

  Tamara glared at him. “Yes, and you’re not helping any.”

  “There were some very interesting vibes floating around last night,” Justern ignored her glare. “I was quite … entertained.”

  “Don’t tell me you eavesdropped!” Tamara whirled on him. “That’s disgusting!”

  Justern put his hands up. “Hey, calm down, Tamara. I didn’t eavesdrop, as tempting as it was.”

  Alarin raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Something about the quality of his silence made Tamara suddenly wonder if Justern was telling the truth. She decided she didn’t want to know. Giving Justern one final glare, she motioned Alarin down the hall behind her.

  They managed this time to make it as far as her father’s office. Peter Carrington pulled the door open and saw his daughter standing there. Tamara flushed, certain the whole thing was over and she would not be allowed to have anything to do with Azellians ever again. “You’re awake. And Alarin? It’s a bit early to be visiting, isn’t it?” She opened her mouth to speak.

  “I asked him to stay last night,” Justern interrupted, coming up behind them. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first. We talked until late, then he fell asleep in my room. I didn’t want to raise questions, so when we met up with Tamara in the hall, I had her lead him downstairs. Given the quality of sentiment around here, I suspected being with a known Azellian would be tantamount to an admission of guilt.”

  Tamara snapped her mouth shut and stared at Justern. He nudged her mentally. Pay attention, you goose. I just saved your ass. Don’t screw it up.

  Alarin, when Tamara touched his mind, was highly amused. Her father, it seemed, was satisfied with the explanation, or at least willing not to pressure anyone any further.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this, Justern.” Peter ran his hand through his hair.

  “Don’t apologize,” Justern replied quickly. “I certainly am very grateful for your hospitality and the work you’re doing on my behalf. I can understand where the hostility comes from. I don’t need anyone else suffering for my stupidities, however.”

  “This will be over soon,” Peter told him. “And hopefully you’ll at least be able to go home, no matter how this turns out.”

  Justern took a deep breath, and Tamara could read that he had gone further than he’d meant to when he originally stepped in to rescue them. “I hope you’re right. There isn’t much time before the court date. Let’s hope I don’t get a jail sentence.”

  That Justern was under a tremendous amount of pressure—even more than she was—crossed Tamara’s mind. She extended a quick, grateful mental hug that was echoed by Alarin. Justern gave them a distracted response.

  Peter shook his head. “Although we hope the court realizes your innocence, we’re working toward getting you sent home if you’re not cleared.”

  Justern closed his eyes. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t have faith in a system that is forced to take a person’s believability as the only proof of wrongdoing.”

  “Alawahea, Justern.” Alarin said in Azellian. “Alawahea quo pi kitar me klet. Aarya di providar.”

  Justern’s grey eyes were remote, his mind closed off behind tight shields. “So they say,” he replied in the same language. “Maybe it would be easier if we were on Azelle. I’m not sure the aarya watch over Earth.” He bowed to Peter, Tamara, and Alarin and switched to English. “If you’ll excuse me, I don’t t
hink I’m fit company this morning. Thank you for stopping by, Alarin.”

  Tamara could sense Alarin’s concern and sudden guilt as they watched Justern walk upstairs.

  Peter frowned. “I think he’s under more stress than he’s admitting.”

  “I know I’d be a mess if I were in his position. Maybe we’d better have Greg check in on him,” Tamara suggested.

  “Might be a good idea. I think he’s feeling isolated here, too.” Alarin glanced at Peter. “Is there any way we could have him spend some time at the embassy?”

  “He’s not allowed to leave Earth until after his trial. The embassy is not officially considered Earth, so he has to stay here. My family is leaving this afternoon. Please tell your friends you are all welcome here at any time,” Peter told Alarin. “I really was mortified by my family’s behavior at the funeral and over these past two weeks.”

  Alarin smiled. “Azellians are no better toward humans, believe me. It is a common trait to be afraid of the unknown and hostile to newcomers.” He bowed to Peter and Tamara. “I must get back to my room. I’ll be back later. I think Justern will need company over the next few days.” With Tamara, he bestowed a gentle mental caress that left her tingling.

  The next few weeks were hectic, with little time for any kind of tender moments. As the trial drew closer, Merran got busier and the Azellians closed ranks around Justern. For the first time since she’d met them, she felt like an outsider.