He smacked her hand away, trying to ignore what her moan did to his groin. "Yup, no imitation chocolate syrup or powdered milk protein substitute for this creation. The Milkshake Master melts the chocolate, takes the milk, cream, and sugar and turns it into ice cream, then adds just the right amount of nutrients, malt, and buttermilk to create the universe’s smoothest, most delicious milkshake, that’s also as filling and nutritious as a full meal."
"No need to sell it to me. I was hooked when you pulled out the chocolate. When can I take that remarkable little machine home with me?"
"I’ll make you another one. Here goes the magic." He put the ingredients in the appropriate slots and activated it. The shake maker hummed happily for a moment then filled a glass with frozen delight.
He handed her the glass with a spoon and watched with a smile of anticipation and not a little lust as she slipped a scoop between her lips.
"Oh my God," she whimpered, eyes glazing over. "This is…is…" She took another bite, eyes closing with such sensual delight that he had to edge away and take a deep breath, gripping the counter hard to keep from reaching for her.
"That good, huh," he muttered.
"Don’t bother me. I’m very, very busy."
He watched her in silence for a few minutes, blood rushing hot through his veins at her erotic, single-minded pursuit of the frosty dessert. When she neared the bottom of the glass, he cleared his throat and said, "Now that I’ve plied you with chocolate, I’ve got a question for you."
"Ambushing me while I’m weak?" she asked in a silky voice, looking up at him through her lashes with such sultry heat that he had to swallow hard to recover his voice. Watching her pink tongue flick out to lick the spoon didn’t help.
He swore under his breath in desperation then stared at the ceiling until he remembered what he’d wanted to ask. "Why did you leave the Odyssey?"
She stared at him for a moment, her sultry expression easing into wariness. Then she set the glass and spoon aside with care and faced him with a faint crease between her brows. "I told you why in my message. The Institute insisted that I make the transfer."
"You didn’t say that in your message," Declan responded with certainty. Even after all these years, ever word of the thing was branded on his brain. Nowhere in it had she mentioned the transfer.
The crease between her brows deepened. "Yes I did. I still wouldn’t have left, but they made an oblique threat to your well being, which led me to understand that they were responsible for my mother’s condition. Once I realized the lengths they were willing to go to keep me under their control, I felt I had to leave to protect everyone I cared about. I meant to return to the Institute and set them straight, but until then I needed to make sure you and the crew of the Odyssey were safe."
"None of that was in your message either," he said with exasperation and the beginnings of a burning anger. As an excuse for her cold and careless behavior, it was flimsy as hell. "Why would the Institute threaten me?"
She put her hands on hips, eyes narrowing at him. "Because they knew how much I cared about you. They didn’t like how independent I’d become and blamed you for it. They used my feelings for you to rein me back in." She paused, folding her arms across her chest. "And I would have told you all of this if you’d answered my calls or returned my messages."
"What calls and messages?" he sneered. "Don’t tell me you’re gonna try to use technical problems to snow your way out of this. I know for a fact that the Odyssey’s com system was working just sarkin’ fine. You were the one avoiding me, lady."
"Excuse me?" she gasped in outrage. "I tried for days to get through to you! You ignored my every—" She froze, eyes wide. "Wait…what did my message say?"
He gritted his teeth, staring at her with bitter fury. Repeating it seemed like the final insult. "You know what it said," he ground out.
"Did it say I loved you?" she asked in a careful tone, eyes fiercely intent on him.
He snorted. "Hell, no. You said sorry you couldn’t see me anymore because the Institute didn’t approve. You wanted me to forgive you and move on. You wished me the best," he finished with a curl of his lip.
She paled as if he’d slapped her and covered her face with her hands, whispering, "Hoti."
At the sight of her distress, his anger eased and he frowned at her. "What?"
"Eban Hoti," she said in a bitter, broken voice. With a sigh, she pressed her fingertips into her eyes and continued, "The Destiny’s telenetic. The Institute’s poster boy. He hated me, enough not to have a qualm about blocking my calls or changing my messages." She lowered her hands and wrapped her arms around herself, meeting his gaze with dark regret and a rueful smile. "We’ve been had, Declan McCrae."
"You’re telling me," he said slowly, hands clenching hard on the edge of the counter. "That you didn’t send that message? That you tried to contact me?"
"Of course I did," she said in a strained, fierce voice. "I was in love with you."
"You never said so."
"Neither did you. Speaking of," she said, lips thinning as she dropped her gaze to the floor. "What exactly were your feelings, Declan? You left fast enough yourself. I would have kept trying if you’d stayed on the Odyssey, but when you resigned and left, I figured that was a pretty strong indication of your…loss of interest."
He let out a humorless chuckle, running aggravated fingers through his hair. "Interest," he repeated with a snort. "God’s mercy, woman. The entire ship could see I was utterly gone on you. Why do you even have to ask?"
"Then why did you leave?" she asked, frowning at the floor.
"Because you told me to move on, wished me the best. You shredded me and staying on the Odyssey would have been dying by degrees." He turned away, putting both hands flat on the counter and bracing his weight on them. Here he was, doing what he said he’d never do and opening himself up for annihilation again, not to mention humiliating himself by telling her exactly what she’d done to him. All on her word that the Institute cared enough to block communication between a couple of teenagers.
"And…now?" she whispered.
He tensed, feeling the dangerous heat of her stare between his shoulder blades. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he said as coolly as he could, "Like I said before, we don’t know each other anymore. I can’t deny I want you, Ryelle, but love’s hard for me to swallow." There was a long silence, while he listened to his pulse pound in his ears and felt it throb in his fingertips.
Then she cleared her throat and said in a low voice, "Fair enough."
He heard her move and glanced over his shoulder to see her heading out of the kitchen. She moved with easy, casual grace, but something in the set of her shoulders gave him a pang. He followed and watched with a sinking feeling as she stepped toward the door. "Leaving?" he asked softly.
"Thank you for the shake," she said with a faint smile over her shoulder, her face a mask of serenity. "It was heavenly. Goodnight, Declan."
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched her go, that sinking feeling turning into dismal dismay. He didn’t want her to go. He also knew her enough to recognize that face she’d worn, recognize when she was hiding her true emotions. He was afraid he’d hurt her again.
Chapter 17
Declan stood alone in the quiet of his quarters for all of three minutes, before he headed for his com unit. She took long enough to answer that his heart began to stutter in his chest. When her face appeared wearing its bland mask and her voice asked, "Yes?" in a distant tone, he nearly winced.
"I upset you," he said quietly.
"I just figured out that I’ve been separated from the man I love for fifteen years because of some zealous little prick with a grudge," she said in a too-even tone. "Of course I’m upset."
"Ryelle," he started then paused with a little grimace. "It’s just hard for me to wrap my mind around it. What would the Institute care about somebody like me? How am I supposed to believe that you love me after all this time? It does
n’t make any sense."
Her lips thinned and that bland mask slipped enough to show a glint of ire in her endlessly dark eyes. "That’s because you’re a hardheaded jackass. You don’t believe I’m telling the truth about any of it, do you?"
While he was trying to find a diplomatic way to answer that, she muttered something under her breath and settled into the seat with her arms folded, lovely face set in grim lines.
"Listen up, McCrae, because I’m only going to say this once. The Institute back then saw telenetics as a commodity. And why not—they had a monopoly on the business, they were making credit hand over fist, and there was no one to tell them how to treat their wards. I was their diamond mine, their pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, if only they could figure out how to contain me. With other telenetics, it wasn’t hard to gain undying loyalty and devotion—the Institute provided telenetics with a home, an elevated status in society, and training to enhance their ability.
"With me, though, they had a challenge. I had someone who loved me, who I refused to be separated from, so I didn’t need them emotionally, nor did I need enhancement. Status was a hollow thing to me, since I was as isolated within the telenetic community as without. When they separated me from my mother and controlled my environment, they had me. But once I went aboard the Odyssey, they began to lose their pot of gold.
"Sam started me down that road. He treated me like a human being from the first. You took me the rest of the way, not only treating me like a normal person, but accepting all of me, my telenetic ability included. You were the first person beyond my mother to see me for myself, to extend a hand of friendship to every part of me. You touched me, Declan, not just physically, but in every way. You accepted me without judgment or reservation, and for that you became as important to me as my next breath. The Institute knew it and they hated you for it."
She paused, staring at him with narrow eyes. Declan swallowed past the ache in his throat, but before he could get enough air around the constriction in his chest to speak, she continued with a hard glint in her eye, "And before you tell me that it was just a first crush, that I was just a naïve girl having my first real experience with romance, let me tell you about the rest of my romantic experiences."
"Ryelle," he rasped, fighting the need to reach right through the com and pull her onto his lap. "I don’t—"
"I’ve never met another man who made me feel the way you do. Full-on sexual intercourse with other men hasn’t felt nearly as good as a single kiss from you. Beyond the physical, I haven’t been emotionally intimate with any other man. I love Sam, but he’s like a father to me. I have plenty of male friends, but there is always a barrier there, either from my status as a freak of nature, or my status as a war hero, or my own reservations about their motives. No one has ever been as honest with me as you have. And no one, not ever, has accepted me or completed me like you do."
She surged abruptly to her feet, pacing restlessly around the room. The holo system tried to follow her, but she was moving too fast, so he only caught glimpses of her as she passed the com unit. This was actually a relief to Declan, who thought his head was about to explode from the flat honesty in her words, voice, and eyes. His mother was right—she wasn’t a player. This wasn’t a game and she believed every word she said. She made him believe it. Insane.
He put his head in his hands. "Ryelle," he said, but she didn’t respond. "Ryelle."
She paused before the com unit, arms folded tightly over her chest and her face stiff with tension. "You know what? I think I’ve humiliated myself enough tonight. I’ll see you in the morning." She reached for the com and he winced.
"Wait! Please, wait."
She hesitated, dark eyes filled with a wary uncertainty that bit at him.
Taking a deep breath, he gripped the edge of the console hard and asked, "Would you let me talk you to sleep? Like we used to. I’d love to watch you sleep again."
She stared at him for a moment, eyes flickering, then lowered herself slowly back into the seat. "You…want to talk?" When he nodded, she dropped her eyes, shifting restlessly. "Earlier in your office," she said in a careful tone, "you seemed to want more than that. And you did say you wanted me."
"Yes," he acknowledged in a hoarse voice, tightening his hold until the console creaked in protest. "But you’re upset. Didn’t want to be crude or take advantage."
She peeked up through her lashes with edgy humor. "Declan, I’ve been throwing myself at you since I got here. Could you please come over here and take advantage of me?"
He was up and moving so fast that his seat spun around in a circle before the grav drive stabilized. She was waiting at her door for him, her dark, dark eyes fixed on him with burning intensity. But when he neared her, she backed away, a complicated mix of emotions dancing over her lovely face.
"Changed your mind?" he rasped, coming to a reluctant stop just inside her door. The aching hunger in his body snarled at him, his need to hold her and touch her going beyond lust into desperation.
"I was just trying to figure out how to do this without…touching you."
He raised his eyebrows, a thread of humor easing some of his grinding urgency. "I’m pretty sure it requires touching, honey."
Her mouth curved and her eyes sparkled. "You’re adorable, darling, but I was referring to the part of me that doesn’t use hands. Once I wrap myself around you, I can’t seem to stop my ability from doing the same."
He clenched his hands into fists to keep from pouncing on her. Drawing an uneven breath, he managed to keep his tone level as he said, "I don’t see a problem with that."
"You don’t mind? On the Odyssey you seemed against the idea."
"Mind?" he growled through clenched teeth, taking a couple of steps toward her. "God’s mercy, woman, what do I have to do, beg?"
Her teeth flashed in a wicked grin as she moved closer to him. "Won’t it shorten the, ah, festivities?"
He chuckled, taking her hands in his and leaning down to brush his lips against her mouth with a secret flare of delight in his chest. "I expect I’ll be feeling festive all night long. Maybe even a solid week. I’ve wanted you for a long time, Ryelle."
Her smile faded into a sultry heat that he couldn’t resist and he pressed a more lingering kiss to her soft lips, slipping his fingers through hers in an intimate slide that made her hum in her throat. She returned the pressure of his grip, body swaying into his for a tingling contact that spread fast fire through his entire form.
He lifted his head on a groan, her sweet scent and taste fogging his mind. "You might have a point," he muttered, head swimming with desire. "Could be a while before I can get you to where I am. Do you mind?"
She gave a shaky laugh, pressing her forehead against his chest. "You have no idea how close I am already." She shivered, brushing restlessly against him. "It’s amazing the effect you have on me."
"Close, Ryelle?" he rumbled, nuzzling her ear and breathing in her scent like an addict.
For answer, she tightened her hold on his left hand, bringing it between their bodies and pressing his knuckles against the juncture between her thighs. She let out a sharp cry, her knees buckling, and her power swirled around and through him, sliding her touch over every part of his body like a multitude of hands and mouths working their erotic magic.
He caught her around the waist, but found them both on their knees anyway, bodies vibrating together with passion. He dove for her mouth with a snarl of lust, and with a sinuous twist of her body, she had both arms and legs wrapped around him, pulling him down with her. He pressed her into the floor, need roaring through him, blinding him to everything but the soft welcome of her curves and the sweet demand of her mouth. His arousal ground against her center and they both cried out, shuddering in a storm of passion.
He wanted to undress her, to explore every silky inch, to feel her naked against him and bury himself so deep within her that he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. But the pleasure spiraled taut with shocki
ng swiftness, obliterating his control and overtaking his body with incredible force. His hips jerked without volition and she moved with him, keening into his mouth while her nails pressed little goads of pain into his flesh. Then she threw back her head with a thin scream, body arching under him, as his world exploded in a roar of pleasure so intense it was almost pain.
It receded slowly, leaving him to shudder in its loosening grip, face buried in her hair while he panted like a bellows.
"Oh my God, Declan," Ryelle gasped, her arms still tight around him, "I’ve never done that so fast. And with my clothes still on."
He nuzzled the tender skin under her ear, intoxicated by the softness and sweet scent he found there. Tracing a path along the graceful line of her neck, he dipped his tongue in the hollow of her throat with a hungry sound. Ryelle’s fingers slipped around the back of his neck, her nails scrapping lightly against his skin and sending goose-bumps down his back.
"It’s just always turned me on so much that I can affect you with my ability. That I can give you pleasure with that part of me…what are you doing?"
"Getting you naked," he growled, pulling the clasps of her blouse apart with urgent, determined fingers, tasting the skin he revealed with ravenous delight.
She shivered under his mouth, fingers sinking into his hair to cup the back of his head. "But didn’t you just—?"
"Oh, yeah."
"I thought men needed time to recover. You seem—" She lost what she was saying on a gasp as he slipped a hand in her shirt and cupped her breast.
"You’re still touching me, stroking me inside and out," he muttered as he nuzzled her shirt aside and admired the soft flesh in his hold. The rosy pink nipple was drawn tight and when he circled it with his thumb, she arched under him with a low moan. "I need to have you naked before you push me over the edge again."
"In that case…" she said in a voice breathless with laughter and passion.
He felt a sharp tug and blinked, glancing around at the shreds of their clothing on the floor before absorbing their nakedness with a rumble of approval. Propping his weight on an elbow, he shifted away enough to take in the sight of Ryelle. She was his hottest fantasies made manifest, blowing away all his dreams of her in naked glory. She had a sleek, slim build, with the usual female parts put together in the usual way, not that different from other women he’d taken to bed. Yet she was completely different, rocking him with her beauty, every part of her calling to him like a siren’s song.
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