“It’s ten forty-five and I’m curious.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he muttered under his breath. At the bottom of a moving staircase, Dro Tar spotted a bright red arrow. The word written across the arrow made her laugh. Annoyance zinged through Evan. He spoke eleven languages and was literate in six. Ancient English just wasn’t among them. “What was that word?”
“You’ll see.”
Two additional arrows led them to the grand ballroom. A shirtless man and scantily clad woman flanked the double doors. “Welcome to Sexcapades. Enjoy your stay.” The man’s greeting sounded mechanical. Cyborgs didn’t exist in this era. Apparently the attendant was bored. He opened one of the doors, allowing them to step into the brightly lit ballroom.
“Sexcapades?” Evan leaned close to Dro Tar so she could hear him over the din. “I’m not familiar with the term.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
Chapter Five
Dro Tar enjoyed the exhibition on two levels. The bold displays of sex toys and adult entertainments fueled her imagination, but she found Evan’s mixture of wonder and horror even more amusing. He moved along the rows in a dazed stupor, eyes wide, lips compressed as if he were in pain.
“Have you figured it out yet?” She smirked.
“Theses are the human equivalent of Ontarian simulators.” His voice was remarkably calm given his flushed cheeks and clenched fists.
She paused in front of a booth displaying DVDs and video games. As if the front covers weren’t provocative enough, many of the back covers featured couples performing sexual acts in acrobatic positions.
The man behind the table made a sweeping gesture with one of his hands. “These are all pretty vanilla. If your tastes are more exotic, just let me know what you’re looking for.”
“We’re just looking.”
The man shrugged and turned his attention toward more interested customers.
The next display was larger than the others. A small crowd had gathered outside a red velvet rope. Bright lights illuminated the area and elaborate cameras were mounted on wheeled carts. Were they transmitting the demonstration or recording it for posterity?
“As you can see the variations are only limited by your imagination.” The spokeswoman wore a formfitting business suit; a push-up bra ensured her breasts swelled well into view between the wide lapels of her jacket. She motioned toward the scantily clad couple at her side. The woman was suspended in a semi-reclining position by what looked like an oversized swing. A muscular man stood between her widespread thighs, thrusting his pelvis against hers.
“I do believe they’re taping an infomercial.” Dro Tar chuckled and moved toward the next booth. Evan followed, his steps clumsy and halting. “Are you all right?” Knowing he’d spent the past fifteen cycles locked away like a monk, she’d hoped to shake him up a bit. He didn’t look shaken, he looked physically ill. “What’s the matter?”
“Humans ... broadcast emotion ... when they are ...”
She hooked her arm around his elbow, shocked by the heat radiating off his skin. “Every person in this room is broadcasting emotions?”
“They are broadcasting lust.”
“I see.”
“No, you don’t.” He grimaced, tension rippling along his arm. “The sheer force of their lust has eroded my shields. Every thought, every desire is bombarding my mind and -- stimulating my senses.” He jerked her close, his jaw clenched as he panted through his teeth. “Get me out of here.”
She hurried him toward the nearest exit. Blessed quiet enveloped them as they stepped into the chilly corridor. Looking up and down the hallway, she realized she wasn’t sure where they were. “As soon as we check into our room, you can take a cold shower.”
“I’ll never make it that far.” He grasped her wrist and pulled her toward a doorway across the hall. A large oval table identified the space as a conference room. He tried the handle. The door was locked.
“Can’t you zap us inside?”
He shook his head and moved farther down the hallway. Each door he tried was locked, the rooms vacant. His fingers grew hotter by the second, and harsh, gasping breaths expanded his chest. She’d had no idea he’d react so adversely to the stimuli. He was only mildly empathic. A startled squeak replaced her apology as he dragged her around a corner and finally found an unlocked door.
Utilitarian stairs angled up and down from the small cement landing on which they stood. With frantic aggression, he pressed her against the rough wall. Heat radiated off his body. His mouth covered hers, his lips firm and demanding. She tilted her head and opened for him. He pulled her arms over her head and eased one of his knees between her thighs, lifting her nearly off the floor.
Hot and moist, his breath filled her mouth and fanned her lips. She waited for the gathering, the familiar stirring of energy.
“I can’t diffuse it with a liplink.” His voice was a throaty growl. “I need ... to release ...”
Keeping her pinned against the wall with his lower body, he tore his tee shirt off over his head. He reached for the hem of her shirt and she grabbed his wrists. “You are not going to --”
“You think I would take you against a cold cement wall?” Equal parts insult and hurt tore through his voice. “I want far more than that for us. I always did.”
“Oh, Evan.” Tenderness shouldered past her uncertainty. They had come so close to forging that rare and wonderful connection so few ever found. She ached for all they had lost, all that might have been.
She released her hold on his hands and watched his face. His skin was flushed, his features tense, but he hadn’t lost control. He slipped his fingers beneath her shirt, stroking her torso as he raised the material. Skin to skin. Mind links and Mystic transfers were easier to establish skin to skin. He unclasped her bra, swept the cups aside, and pressed against her bare breasts.
“I need to enter your mind.” A muscle above his jaw jumped as he paused to add, “I won’t hurt you.”
Her lips trembled. He’d hurt her more than any other person in her life. She should shove him away and leave him to suffer. Tension gripped her heart, while desire flicked to life within her abdomen. This was irrational. How could she feel anything but resentment after all his actions had wrought? She closed her eyes before he could see her vulnerability, glimpse the scope of his power over her. Her lips parted, waiting for his mouth, longing for the connection as desperately as she grasped for her scattering anger.
Why had Trey set her up like this? She was almost over Evan.
Maybe you’re not meant to get over him. Did you ever think of that? Trey’s voice echoed through her mind as Evan’s lips pressed against hers. He pushed his fingers into her hair, angling her face so their mouths fit more closely. This wasn’t a kiss. It was a tangible link allowing him to guide her onto the metaphysical plane.
Light flickered within her mind, followed quickly by sensation. She knew what she would see before the image formed, but she wasn’t prepared for the emotional onslaught unleashed by the memory.
She knelt before him naked, her hands clasped behind her back as he filled her mouth with strong, steady thrusts. His fingers tangled in her hair and he sped the rhythm of his hips. “That’s it, nephri. Take it all.” This was the last night they’d spent together. The brazen performance had finally convinced the smugglers that Evan was one of them.
Heat suffused her body, starting in the middle of her chest and spreading outward. The sensation descended along her spine and triggered slow, distinct pulses between her thighs. He’d only dominated her because the smugglers were watching, but his aggression excited her like nothing she’d ever experienced before -- or since.
Allowing him deeper into her mind, she wrapped her arms around his back and rubbed her breasts against his chest. The images focused and the sensations intensified.
Evan bumped the back of her throat with each forceful lunge, his hands tightening in her hair. “Harder, suck me harder.” Pulling
back, he waited for her to obey. She drew on him firmly, her cheeks hollowing with each firm pull. “Yes!” Angling her head, he pushed deep one last time and released his seed down her throat.
The vision was so detailed that Dro Tar felt his shaft pulse against her tongue and tasted the bitter saltiness of his desire. She trembled in his arms. Her nipples tingled and her core ached. They’d gone on for hours that night. Did he intend to review the entire incident? He held her tightly, his presence constant in her mind. Was this more than a release for his sensory overload? Was this retaliation? She’d called him a coward and shut him out of her life.
She tried to push him away, but his hold was unbreakable, both physically and mentally.
This is not a game. I’ll release you as soon as I’m able. His voice sounded strained, yet sincere. She gradually relaxed and the images flared.
He pulled out of her mouth, panting and unsteady. “Very good.” She waited for his next command, her breasts quivering with each ragged breath. He knelt facing her and rolled both her nipples, his gaze intent on her breasts. “You’re like a feast. So many delights, it’s hard to decide which one to sample next.” He gave each of her nipples a fond lick, then moved his hands to her waist. “Stand up and part your thighs. I want to touch you.”
She stood and moved her legs apart, offering him full access to her creamy folds. Need throbbed with steady rhythm deep inside her. Giving him pleasure had almost been enough to trigger her release, almost. Now she wanted him there, needed the fullness, the connection. He traced her slit with his fingertips and she whimpered. One firm pass over her clit and she’d come -- and the smugglers would watch each wiggle, hear each moan.
Staring into Evan’s eyes, she tuned out everything else.
He pulled her closer, holding her open so he could circle her clit with his tongue. “Come for me, nephri. Let me feel you come.” Pushing two fingers deep into her core, he triggered a hard, pulsing orgasm. She clutched his shoulders, her legs shaking as the firm stroke of his tongue brought ripple after ripple of tingling pleasure.
“You do that so well.” He slapped her on the bottom before the last tingle passed. “Back on your knees; you know how I like it.” She turned around and knelt, lowering her torso toward the floor. He nudged her legs apart as she rested her forehead on her folded arms.
His entry set the pace for their frantic coupling. He thrust to the hilt with one swift drive, then pulled nearly out of her welcoming heat. His hands clasped her hips as he took her fast and hard. She arched into each stroke, open, surrendered, taking all of him. Heated flesh slapped against heated flesh and her inner muscles gripped him with greedy abandon.
Dro Tar felt a real orgasm start deep in her core. This was supposed to be about Evan. He needed to disperse the sexual frenzy buffeting his senses. She groaned into his open mouth and dug her nails into his back. Each intense spasm accented the fact that he wasn’t really inside her.
His image arched, head thrown back, as he came in hard shuddering waves. A sharp cry escaped his throat and he clutched her to his chest. The vision faded and the cold, austere stairwell returned. A long moment passed with just the sound of their harsh breathing.
I want far more than that for us. I always did. She recalled his words so clearly, she wondered if he’d sent them again. Tingling aftershocks skittered along her nerve endings and he’d only touched her mind. She’d always gone up in flames whenever Evan touched her. This was a perfect example of why she needed to stay away from him. She couldn’t afford to lose control, couldn’t afford to surrender.
“Are you all right now?” She pushed him back so she could see his face. He nodded, but the contacts concealed his eyes, masking his true expression. He trailed his index finger from her temple to her chin, easing his hold on her torso. She quickly fastened her bra and pulled down her tee shirt.
“I know you’d rather forget everything that happened between us,” his voice was unsteady and hoarse, “but I needed a shared memory, something I could construct quickly.”
She snatched his shirt off the floor and threw it at him. “I don’t want to forget everything that happened, just the part where you deserted us and two people died.”
Chapter Six
Evan balled the tee shirt in one hand and caught her arm with the other. “I am not a coward. This could have been resolved fifteen cycles ago if you weren’t so damn stubborn.”
“There’s nothing to resolve. I was there. I saw what happened.” She pulled against his hand. He maintained a steady pressure, determined to hold her without bruising her flesh. Her brow knitted and her lips thinned. He cursed the filmy substance covering her eyes, preventing him from gauging her full reaction.
“You saw me teleport out of sight in the heat of battle.” He chose each word carefully, knowing her penchant for using his words against him. “You have no idea why I left or what I accomplished --”
“What you accomplished? Bron and Fitz died. That’s what you accomplished!”
He pushed her back against the wall and caged her there, one hand on either side of her shoulders. “It was an ambush. Stromn had reinforcements waiting in another ship. I intercepted the signal, but the second crew captured me before I could return to assist you.”
She lowered her gaze, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “There was no indication of another ship. If you ... I don’t understand.”
He raised her chin and didn’t speak until she looked into his eyes. “I was forced to watch the battle from the bridge of the second ship. Dealing with me had delayed their intervention. The captain wasn’t willing to risk endangering his crew when you had backup on the way. He deserted his ‘friends’ and took me with him.”
She scrubbed a hand across her eyes and rested her head against the wall. “How did you escape?” Her indignation had come down a notch or two. He hadn’t expected her to smile and throw her arms around his neck. Still, she could seem a little less suspicious.
The door opened and a uniformed employee skidded to a halt. Her gaze narrowed as she took in his naked chest. “Inform the front desk you’re participating in Sexcapades and they’ll arrange for a discounted room.”
“Thanks for the tip.” Dro Tar ducked under his arm and headed up the stairs.
Struggling into his shirt, he scrambled after her. “We will finish this conversation as soon as we get to our room.”
“No one else can understand you. Why wait until we get to our room?”
Damn it! Whatever ground he’d gained was lost in an instant. She was determined to think the worst of him. They exited the stairwell and paused to get their bearings. “Are these places designed to be confusing?”
She chuckled. “Actually they are. The longer they can keep you in the casino, the more money you spend. Come on, it’s this way.”
He didn’t offer any more information and she didn’t ask. Once he had her alone in the suite, he’d start the conversation again. They had both retreated from the conflict in their own way. She’d used anger to insulate herself from the pain and he’d used his training to distance himself from the consequences of his actions. It ended tonight. He couldn’t control how she reacted to the information, but she would hear the full story once and for all.
The clerk had everything ready for them as promised. After a quick stop at the front desk, they made their way to the twenty-seventh floor. She unlocked the door and held it open as he rolled the suitcase inside.
She flipped on a lamp and whistled, obviously pleased with the accommodations. “Damn,” she whispered. Walking through the main living area, she glanced into the adjoining bedroom before inspecting the spa, which nestled in the far corner against the windows. “So, where are you going to sleep?” She arched her brow in playful challenge as she completed her tour.
“I’m not here for relaxation. I have to search the journal entries.” It was as much a self-reminder as a refusal to rise to her bait.
Taking the suitcase from him, she went into the bedroom
and placed it on the stand inside the closet. He lingered in the doorway while she inspected the lavish bathroom, enjoying her obvious excitement.
“Didn’t you read each entry before you transmitted them to Lord Drakkin?” She brushed by him and strode across the spacious main room. Opening the draperies, she revealed an unobstructed view of the surrounding buildings.
“It wasn’t necessary to read every entry and I’ve only been responsible for the journal for the past eight cycles.” She turned slightly as she enjoyed the setting, her profile cast in shadow against the light. He knew her skin was as silky as it appeared. Her curvaceous body was just as soft. Tempting, passionate -- his. She was a distraction he couldn’t afford. Whether she believed it or not, Malos was up to something. “The incriminating information could have been entered by another apprentice.”
“If Vee kept this journal since the inception of the Conservatory, there have to be thousands of entries.”
“Hundreds of thousands. Vee began the journal eleven hundred cycles ago.”
She turned her back to the window and cocked her head. “How do you expect to read them all before Malos catches up with us?”
“I don’t. It’s possible to search the entries using any number of criteria. The trick will be figuring out which questions to ask.” His gaze swept the room. He was less interested in the amenities than his companion. “I’d like to finish our previous conversation before I start working on the journal.”
Raising her chin, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I obviously misjudged you. You’re forgiven. Now, get busy on the journal.”
He laughed. He knew it was the wrong response, but he couldn’t help himself. She was simply adorable when she was riled. Rubbing his forehead with his fingertips, he averted his gaze. How could he combat her contrary nature and fifteen cycles of misconception? “I appreciate your willingness to reconsider your position. Still, it might mean a bit more if you’d heard all the facts.”
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