by Anna Hackett
He grabbed her hand, shot her a knowing smile and pulled her toward a large burgundy tent set up near the water. Lanterns had been strung up, casting a bright glow around the small groups of people gathered. She smiled at him, liking the look of him in the loose-fitting tan trousers and white shirt that contrasted with his dark skin.
Damon and Lexa entered the tent and the delicious smell of food made her realize how hungry she was. A long table was overflowing with a bunch of stuff she didn’t recognize. They both loaded plates high with vine-wrapped meats, some small roasted animals on skewers and spiced rice.
Lexa spotted Dathan standing with a girl in the corner of the tent. She had dark skin the color of polished Tralish mahogany and a pretty face framed by a fall of black hair. She was fluttering her eyelashes at the young treasure hunter, who looked like he was in full charming mode. When he saw them, he tossed them a friendly wave.
Most people sat on colored pillows scattered around the floor. Lexa and Damon found some empty ones in a corner and sank down on them. Lexa, swept her legs under her and tasted the vine-wrapped meat. Absolutely delicious.
“So, are you going to tell me about your time in the GSS?”
Damon chewed on a piece of meat. “I never said I was in the GSS.”
“Is that right, Helix?”
He stiffened. “Never, ever mention that name again.”
That hurt. Her gaze dropped to her plate. She’d thought they’d reached a place where they trusted each other. “Fine.” She snagged another bit of food off her plate.
She heard him curse under his breath, then strong fingers gently grasped her chin. His midnight eyes were turbulent.
“You can push at me with just an expression on your face.” He shook his head. “My former colleagues wouldn’t believe it. Me, besotted by a woman.” He fiddled with the food on his plate. “I was GSS and yes, I was a spy. I worked some of the dirtiest, blackest, nastiest undercover missions…and no, I’m never going to tell you details. Some of them are classified and some—” he sighed “—well, I’d never want you to know, anyway.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“At first, I felt like I was doing my bit, and I was good at it. I wanted to believe I was helping people.”
“What changed?”
“In an organization like the GSS, there are so many people, species, races, all with different beliefs and agendas. The bureaucracy and politics…it can lead to some stupid decisions. With a few of the missions, I just felt like we should have never been there in the first place.”
She heard a bone-deep weariness in his voice, and she did wonder just how bad it must have been to wear a man with the strength and determination of Damon down.
“There was no one thing that made me decide to leave. It was just a lot of muck and darkness. I wanted to be able to sleep without having to ensure someone couldn’t sneak in and kill me. I wanted to be able to stop looking over my shoulder.” He traced the shell of her ear, his voice lowering. “Helix was my codename. It could be dangerous to you if someone overheard you mentioning it, okay?”
So that was why he’d jumped on her. He’d been trying to protect her. She melted into his touch. “Okay.”
He shook his head. “You’re too good for me.”
She snorted. “Get over yourself.”
He laughed, looking a bit shocked by the sound.
She scooped up some rice in a wide spoon. “How’d you get the museum job?”
“A friend of a friend mentioned it…actually, it was your brother.”
She hesitated, with the spoon near her mouth. “My brother?”
“Aston.”
Lexa swallowed. She’d always suspected Aston hadn’t told her the entire truth about his work. “He isn’t just an analyst, is he?”
“You’ll have to talk to him about that.”
Hmm, she would. “So, the museum job?”
“It sounded like what I was looking for. I took a look at it, liked Marius, and thought the museum had a classy feel to it. I was a bit put off by the know-it-all curator, but I figured I had to compromise somewhere.”
She slapped a hand against his chest. “I thought you were the conceited know-it-all, with a colossal security obsession.”
“And you were right.”
She smiled. “But now I know all that covers a good core with a deep vein of protective hero.”
“I’m not a hero.”
“Heroes never think they are.” She finished the last of her food, licking her fingers. “So tomorrow, we’ll head south-west and find something resembling a Dragon’s Spine.”
“That’s the plan.”
She frowned. She really wished they had more to go on than that. Some clue as to what they were looking for.
Damon looked over at Dathan, who was still wooing his girl. “Phoenix has promised me the supplies will be ready in the morning.”
Worry ate at her. “I hope I’m not leading us off on a wild-goose chase.”
“You’ll find it.”
A murmur of voices had them looking over. People were clearing the food table away and clearing a space in the center of the tent. A small group of locals carrying instruments—some old, some modern—settled off to the side. Then a group of dancers—men with tight trousers and bare chests and women in barely-there gauzy skirts and colored scarves tied around their torsos—moved to the center of the tent.
The lights dimmed.
“Looks like the entertainment’s starting,” Damon said.
Lexa leaned forward. Seeing the local dancing would be a great experience. She’d always been fascinated by the customs of different cultures. And because Zerzura’s customs had old Earth influence, she couldn’t wait to see the dancing.
When Damon grabbed her and pulled her between his legs, she went with a smile. Settling back against him, she decided that for the next few hours, she wouldn’t worry about the map, the clues or the treasure hunt. She’d just relax and enjoy.
Chapter Thirteen
The performers dipped, whirled and spun in a wild, energetic dance. The women’s skirts flared out, giving teasing glimpses of bare legs. The men’s naked chests glimmered under the lights.
One dance melded into another. When the men grabbed long sticks and set them alight, the dance took on a new aspect. The flames whirling around as the dancers moved to the beat.
But Damon was more interested in watching Lexa.
She had a rapt expression as she watched the dancers. God, if someone had told him he’d find so much pleasure in watching a woman’s face, he’d never have believed them. She didn’t hide a thing she was feeling.
The dance finished and Lexa clapped enthusiastically with the crowd. The dancers bowed and jogged off the makeshift stage. An old woman slowly moved into the center of the tent, accompanied by a young girl carrying a large pillow. The girl set it down before hurrying away. Four men, all carrying burning torches, stood at the four corners of the stage area.
The old lady sat and Damon was amazed he couldn’t hear her bones creaking. Her face was wrinkled but had a sense of strength. Her skin was the color of caramel and her long, gray hair fell behind her in a braid. She took a few moments to settle, then she started to talk.
“I am the storyteller of Liwa Oasis and I’m here to tell you stories of days past, of days now, and perhaps of days to come.” Her tone was clear as a bell and rang with a note that made everyone in the tent sit up and listen.
Damon saw the tired kids all stir and lean forward, faces alight. Much like Lexa was doing. He rested his chin on her head and settled in.
The woman told short tales and longer ones. Sometimes, a few of the dancers would return to act out parts. Some of the stories were laugh-out-loud funny and Damon chuckled, holding a giggling Lexa close. Some were sad tales of tragedy that had tears shimmering in her eyes.
“One last one,” the woman said. “Of dragons and heroes.”
Lexa pressed her face against his arm, her gaze never l
eaving the woman. The tale was about the first settlers of Zerzura, back before it was called Zerzura, and the wild beasts that lived here long before the desert sands took over.
“The wild dragons filled the sky.” The woman traced a hand through the air. “As large as starships, with claws as big as a child. And…” the woman, a master storyteller, paused for effect “…they loved the taste of human flesh.”
The children in the crowd gasped. Lexa did too.
“But the settlers fought back, eager to make a new home. They battled the dragons, never giving up, through wins and losses.”
The children cheered. Lexa’s fingers dug into Damon’s arm.
“Finally, there was one dragon left. An evil, scarred brute who refused to die. He scorched many a village and town. He destroyed homes and crops, killed loved ones.” She went quiet for a few seconds. “Then a young hero called Fenix, who’d lost his family and home to the dragon’s fire, headed out to kill him. They fought for forty days and forty nights and finally, not far from our very village, Fenix slaughtered the dragon.” She slammed her arms down dramatically.
The children gasped again.
“And the old dragon fell and hit the ground so hard the planet shook. As his flesh rotted away, just his bones were left, forming a ridge of jagged rocks known to us today as the Devil’s Garden. But far in the past, when the goddess’ maidens blessed our land, they called it the Dragon’s Backbone.”
The crowd broke out in applause and the young girl came back to help the woman up.
Lexa had stiffened and Damon blinked, the old woman’s words still echoing in his head. Holy shit.
Lexa swiveled. “Dragon’s backbone, dragon’s spine. Oh my God, Damon.”
“Looks like we got another clue.”
With a laugh, she twisted and kissed him. It started out playful, but quickly changed. He wondered if he’d ever get enough of her—her quick moods, quicker mind, and her unique taste. He sank his hands into her hair, tugging her head back, plundering her mouth.
They pulled apart, both of them panting. Around them, some people were leaving, ushering tired children out to head to their beds. Those remaining were refilling drinks, talking and laughing. The crowd clapped again and the lights dimmed so much that Damon and Lexa were cloaked in shadows. The only light came from the men holding the burning torches.
The dancers returned. The men now had their chests covered in an oil that made the light gleam off their flexing muscles. The women had lost their colored skirts, leaving them in near-transparent scarves, just wisps of fabric that left little to the imagination.
“Now we honor the goddess,” a man with a deep voice intoned.
The music started up, this time a deeper beat. More instruments joined in, turning it into a sensual melody that teased along the senses.
The dancers moved. There was less speed this time, the dips and twirls more sensuous as the female dancers twirled around the male dancers who stood still as statues. The women teased, pulling an odd scarf off here and there, baring more curvy flesh.
Damon sensed Lexa’s riveted attention, the way her heartbeat sped up, and her breaths shortened. One woman dancer moved in a gyrating solo and lost the last scarf on top baring generous breasts that bobbed with her graceful movements. Her male counterpart stepped in close and joined her in the dance.
The couple circled each other, a primal mating dance filled with anticipation.
Now all the male dancers joined the dance, the seduction. Soon the couples were pressed against each other, the men removing the last of the females’ outfits, leaving them all naked, gleaming in the firelight.
Lexa shifted, like she couldn’t sit still. The tent was filled with a charged, electric air, an anxious expectation.
Damon stoked a hand down the outside of her thigh. She pressed against him, but kept her gaze on the dancers.
“This has its origins in the Temple of the Goddess Divine,” Lexa’s voice was husky. “The goddess was about life and love. This dance is a representation of that. A celebration of it.”
As Damon watched, one male buried his head between a woman’s breasts, spinning her around. Another man held a woman upside down, his lips traveling along her bare thighs. And a third man stood still as his partner dropped to her knees, tugging at his trousers and freeing an impressive erection. Hell, Dathan and Pris should have warned them about this. Actually, thinking about Pris telling them about this dinner, Damon expected the innkeeper knew exactly what she was sending them in to see.
Even in the shadows, Damon could tell that watching the performance in front of them was turning Lexa on. He let his hand slip over her smooth thigh, rubbing in small circles. Then he slipped his hand under the hem of her skirt.
Her legs closed a little. “Damon—”
“No one can see. It’s too dark here.” He had no doubt other little explorations were happening in the shadows. “Just enjoy.”
He felt the sensual air wash over him, leaving his need for her a pounding, primal thing inside him. He wanted to claim Lexa, push himself inside her and make sure she knew she was his, and his alone. He shook his head, trying to clear the spell, but desire for her was a fire in his veins.
He moved his hand up and when all he encountered was hot, damp flesh, he groaned in her ear.
“I washed my underwear…I didn’t have any others.”
Thank God he hadn’t known, or he’d have had an erection the entire evening.
He ran his fingers through her wet folds and she pushed back against him. “Stay still,” he warned.
She made a small keening sound, but tried to obey. He kept teasing her, stroking, caressing.
“Stop teasing me, dammit,” she whispered furiously.
He was avoiding her clit, circling around it, but not stimulating it. He smiled in the darkness. He liked the idea of teasing his little astro-archeologist.
He kept doing it, heard her breathing speed up, saw her lips part. If it wasn’t so dark in the tent, he knew he’d see that her cheeks were flushed.
“Watch the dancers, Lexa.”
Some of them were making love now. One man held his partner aloft, her face to the crowd, every expression visible on her face as he thrust inside her. Another woman was on her hands and knees, her partner powering into her from behind.
“Oh…” Lexa bit her lip.
Damon slid a finger inside her. Damn, she was so tight. She jerked against him and turned her face, her teeth sinking into his forearm. He kept moving his finger, added another.
“I’m…so close.” She bit him again. “Please, Damon, not here. I want you inside me.”
Damn, it was what he wanted, too.
He pulled his hand away, and with her watching, brought his fingers to his lips and sucked the taste of her off. Her eyes widened.
“You taste too damn good, Lexa. A taste a man will always hunger for, will never want to give up.”
He yanked her up and moved her toward the tent entrance. As they ducked out, he heard some of the dancers finding their climaxes.
“Hurry,” she urged.
Hand in hand, they ran back toward the inn.
***
Lexa stumbled into their room. The lamps were off, the only glimmer of light in the room spilling in through the window from the village outside.
Damon spun her and was pulling at her clothes. She did the same, helping him yank his trousers open. As her fingers brushed the bulge there, he groaned.
He gripped the neckline of her blouse and tore it apart. She gasped, the cool air hitting her overheated skin and making her already hard nipples pucker to tighter points. She moaned. She needed…she needed Damon.
He grabbed her and spun her against the door.
He shoved her skirt up around her hips. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since those damn dancers started.”
“Inside me, now,” she panted.
He slid his hands under her bottom and urged her up. In one hard thrust, he was seated inside h
er.
Oh, the stretching sensation. He really filled her up in a way that had pleasure edged with the slightest bit of pain. He pulled out slowly, the thick head of him circling her before he plunged back in.
“Yes, Damon.” Her head knocked back against the wall. She clutched at his strong shoulders, trying to find something to anchor herself. She felt like she was going to explode. The sensations building inside her were hot and intense and coming so fast.
“Look down, Lexa.”
His raspy command had her obeying.
There was just enough light to see where they were joined, where his thick cock speared into her. A small cry escaped her throat.
His thrusts quickened, and his mouth caught hers. She kissed him, wildly, driven by the spiraling need.
“Fuck, I’m going to come soon and fill you up.” A deep growl.
Then she felt one of his hands move out from under her. He slid it between them, touching her where she was stretched tight around him, then he flicked a finger against her clit.
She jerked. “Damon!”
“Yeah, baby, that’s it.” His thumb pressed down hard on the slick little nub. “I want you to come now and scream my name so everyone can hear.”
Another rub of his finger and she shattered.
She did scream his name, helpless to do anything else. The pleasure washed over her in waves, and it was stronger than anything she’d felt before.
After another few thrusts, Damon ground against her, his release spurting inside her.
They slid down the wall and ended in a tangle of sweaty limbs.
Wrecked. She was completely wrecked.
“Bed,” he rasped.
“Too far.” She moved her fingers in his hair, which was all she could manage.
A satisfied male laugh sounded in her ear. “I’ll get us there.”