Star-Crossed

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Star-Crossed Page 7

by Cyndi Friberg


  Her cherry red lips parted in an inviting smile. “I’m from Racing Hearts. Are you Mr. Grant?”

  She’d added an extra consonant to his name, but he wasn’t about to argue. “I am.”

  Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she glanced up and down the hall. “I don’t generally deal with the financial aspect of my dates, but you told Trish this would be a cash transaction.”

  “Yes. We agreed upon a fee and she told me you would expect payment before you rendered your services.”

  The female laughed and brushed by him, entering his room without permission. “You’re not from around here, I take it.”

  “That is a safe assumption.” His language infusion provided him with an adequate vocabulary. Emulating the local speech patterns and incorporating the vernacular would take a bit more time. He handed her a stack of neatly folded bills and she slipped them into the pocket of her jacket.

  “The name’s Rebecca, by the way. Unless you want to call me something else.”

  “Rebecca is fine. I’m anxious to get started.”

  She glanced at the bed. “You wanted a limo fantasy, right?”

  “Limo fantasy? No, I need an actual automobile in which to ... I requested an automobile and someone capable of operating it.”

  “No worries.” She lowered one eyelid and licked those bright red lips. Blood flooded his groin and tension banded his chest like alloy straps. Only in the simulators had a female looked at him with such blatant invitation. “The limo is waiting out front and I brought a driver.”

  If she brought a driver, what was her role in this arrangement?

  “I like to ask a few questions before we begin,” she said. “It allows me to stay in character. Do you prefer to be the aggressor or would you like to be irresistible?”

  What was she talking about? Why was it necessary to answer these questions to be transported about the city? “I have important work to do. I only need to travel from one section of the city to another. The fewer distractions I have the faster I can accomplish my work.”

  She grinned. “Gottcha. I’ll try very hard not to distract you, but I can’t promise to keep my hands to myself. Just something to keep in mind, I have no problem with rough play, in fact I enjoy it. Many overworked business men like to take out their frustrations on me.” She giggled and crooked her index finger as she sashayed toward the door. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  * * * * *

  Dro Tar wiggled away from one pounding jet only to encounter another. The water spa was intended to relax her, so why did she find it stimulating instead? Her gaze drifted over Evan’s handsome features and she had her answer. Staring at him made any situation stimulating. He’d isolated the journal entries that utilized the title Chae Tra, hoping to identify a hidden pattern. He stared at the display, drumming his thumbs against the tabletop.

  “I really think we need to talk to Lord Drakkin,” she said. “He knew Vee better than anyone.”

  With a frustrated sigh he powered down the journal. “It took Vee eleven hundred cycles to accumulate these entries. I suppose any mystery he might have hidden will take longer than one night to unravel.”

  “That’s a pretty safe bet.” She smiled and wiped droplets of water off her face.

  “But what about the girl?” He didn’t have to explain who he meant, the fear in the stranger’s lavender eyes hadn’t left Dro Tar’s mind. “I can’t help feeling she’s here in Las Vegas and she’s in trouble.”

  “Have you ever had a vision while you were transporting before?” She knew what he’d been able to do fifteen cycles ago. How much more had he learned as Vee’s apprentice?

  “No.” He shifted in his chair as indecision clouded his gaze. “Master Vee trusted me with the journal. I will not disappoint him now.”

  Despite the risk of bruising his ego, she pointed out a subtle distinction. “Master Vee trusted you to deliver the journal entries to Lord Drakkin. I’m not sure this is your mystery to solve.” His brow raised and he folded his hands on the tabletop. He didn’t seem insulted by the possibility. “Are you certain the vision is linked with the journal? They could be unrelated.”

  “I’m not certain of anything.” He spread his hands, his tone taking on a terse edge. “My visions have never been this useless before.”

  “I think you’re trying too hard.” She sank into the water until the bubbles tickled the underside of her chin. “Relax for a little while. Think about something else, or better yet, don’t think at all.”

  “Master Tal is aware of Malos’ odd behavior.” He stood and moved around the table. “The journal is safe within my keeping.” Standing beside the spa, he let his gaze sweep over her naked body. “I will sense if a Mystic arrives on Earth and no Ontarian can reach Earth without a Mystic.”

  Smoothing her wet curls back from her face, she smiled invitingly. “Let’s enjoy Las Vegas for a day or two. If you’re not able to understand what the vision is trying to show you, then you can zap us over to Bilarri.”

  “I can transport to Bilarri without any problem.” He paused, his eyes narrowing with passionate promise. “If I’m taking you with me, I’ll require a full energy infusion.”

  “And of course the only way a feeble person like myself can infuse a mighty Mystic is to allow you intimate access to my body.” Her nipples tingled and she pressed her thighs together as desire washed over her. He could probably sense how much she wanted him, so why pretend otherwise? “I believe this is called extortion.”

  He pulled off his tee shirt and tossed it aside. With his hand hovering over the fly in his jeans, he said, “It’s only extortion if you object to the suggestion. I thought you wanted me to relax for a while.”

  She licked her lips, anticipation spreading through her like liquid fire. “I’ve never found our encounters relaxing. Exhausting and fulfilling, but not relaxing.”

  “Then let’s try something new.” He shed his pants and slipped into the water, offering her only the briefest glimpse of his erection before he was concealed by the current.

  Relaxation was the last thing on her mind whenever he was near. His lazy smile melted her insides and the brush of his warm fingers sent her pulse racing. He looked at her with those vibrant green eyes and she wanted to devour him.

  “I’ve realized in retrospect that we know very little about each other.” He spread his arms along the smooth rim of the spa, water lapping at his chest.

  Images flashed through her mind which contradicted his statement. “Really?”

  “Do I have siblings? Where did I live before I came to the Conservatory?”

  “You have two brothers and a half-sister. You’re the eldest. No one ever doubted you’d be accepted into the Conservatory, because your abilities are extraordinary and your lineage is pure. You lost your mother during the Great Conflict, but your father is living comfortably in Frontine with the mother of your half-sister.”

  “I’m impressed.” He narrowed his gaze again, but speculation shaped his expression not desire. “The dossiers we memorized for the mission weren’t factual. When did you learn all of this?”

  What he really meant was why had she bothered to learn about him when she’d refused to see him, but she let it slide. “I have an in with the director of Covert Ops, makes it easy to find out just about anything.”

  “So I’m no mystery. Tell me about you. Do you have family?”

  “My mother survived the Great Conflict only to be raped and murdered during a robbery. She changed social alliances like I change hairstyles, so she wasn’t sure who my father was. There’s a dark side to life on Ontariese that the elite seldom think about.”

  “You’re female. That alone puts you in a position of power.”

  Only the earnest candor in his expression kept her from laughing out loud. “Females from the great houses are sheltered and revered. Even common females are safe if they have a large family or the means to hire protection. My mother and I had neither.”

 
“Mistreatment of any woman is a criminal act punishable by --”

  “Are you really so out of touch?” She didn’t want to fight with him, but apparently he was right. He didn’t know her at all. “I’ve seen vids of the Conservatory. It’s spectacular. Unfortunately, not all of Ontariese is graceful and secluded. Vast cities were laid to waste by the Great Conflict and the biological weapon unleashed by the House of Joon changed the role of Ontarian women forever.”

  “I understand that. Our disproportionate population has forced us to redefine some of the basic concepts of our society.”

  She shook her head and glanced out the window, unable to meet his gaze. How could someone so intelligent and powerful be so naive? “It’s survival of the fittest in a way. The great houses make sure the opportunity to procreate is only granted to the best and most gifted.”

  “You make it sound callous and unreasonable.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “With almost one hundred men for every woman, strict codes had to be established just to ensure some portion of our population survived. The crisis is far from over. The Joint Council is still searching for long-term solutions to the problem. If the ratio had been reversed, the situation wouldn’t have been so desperate, but --”

  “One man can service a hundred women more easily than one woman can accommodate a hundred men?” There was nothing they could do to change the past, and the global challenges weren’t what this was about. They might be from the same planet, but they were from different worlds.

  “We were talking about procreation, not sexual satisfaction.” He splashed water on his face and slicked back his hair.

  “No, I was talking about the elite.”

  With a soft sigh, he returned his arms to the spa’s smooth rim. “All right. How does life differ for females not born into one of the six great houses?”

  He sounded cautious and concerned, so she kept her explanation generic. “As soon as a female develops the physical attributes of a woman, there are a hundred men waiting for her to declare her first social alliance. Without the protection of an alliance, she’s fair game to be pressured and pursued.”

  His gaze moved over her face, searching and intense. “Did someone hurt you, Dro Tar? Is that what this is about?”

  So much for generic explanations. He wouldn’t allow her to be vague. “My mother chose her first protector in her fifteenth cycle. He was wealthy and controlling and determined to have as many children as physically possible. After her third miscarriage, he ended the alliance and publicly announced her inability to carry a child to term. It ruined her prospects of establishing an advantageous alliance. She was good for one thing and one thing only.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize --”

  “She was passed from man to man for the next forty cycles. I was born eleven weeks premature, so her prospects were little better even after she produced a living child. She refused to have my DNA tested, said none of the bastards deserved to be my father. Shortly after she died, I had a paternity test run. I didn’t want to end up sleeping with my brother or something equally creepy. I sent a message to the man identified by the test, but he never responded, and that was that.” Sympathy filled his eyes and she stiffened. Nothing pissed her off faster than pity. “What did you expect? I’m not from one of the great houses and I have no Mystical powers. I could have bartered my body to the highest bidder, but I saw where that got my mother. Instead I fought my way through life. It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

  He stood and held out his hand, his gaze warm and caressing. “You wouldn’t be Dro Tar without that fiery spirit. I’ve always admired your strength.”

  Uncomfortable with the serious turn their conversation had taken, she slid her toes up his thigh. “And I’ve always admired your ass.”

  Chapter Eight

  Grat squirmed on the smooth seat of the limousine. Rebecca kept saying the most inappropriate things. She sat in the seat adjacent to his and parted her thighs, allowing him to see up her skirt. If only she weren’t wearing panties ... He shook his head. That shiny scrap of red silk was just as distracting. It invited him to imagine the soft, moist heat awaiting him.

  How was he supposed to use the scanner if she wouldn’t leave him alone? He had to locate the Mystic. Gine’s guileless face flashed through his memory and his fingers tightened on the scanner. He would do whatever it took to protect his brother and every moment he delayed increased the chances Malos would get restless. Let her marvel at his gadget. It didn’t matter. He had no time to waste. Pulling the scanner out of his pocket, he said, “Activate full spectrum.” A three dimensional grid arose from the flat surface shimmering in the dim interior of the automobile.

  “How cool is that?” Momentarily forgetting her determination to seduce him, she scooted to the edge of her seat. “Is it some sort of game?”

  “Yes. It is meant for amusement.” He made several minor adjustments, optimizing the scanner’s range. “Did you give the driver my map? It is vital that he follow the directions exactly.”

  “Jerry’s lived in Vegas forever. You’re in good hands.”

  They progressed in blessed silence for a short time. Grat studied the display, praying for a blip that would indicate a Mystic energy signal.

  The female moved into his line of vision, a sultry smile bowing her lips. She’d tossed her jacket onto the seat. A strange support garment lifted her full breasts, pressing them together while leaving her nipples bare. Understanding jolted through him. She was the personification of one of his sex sims. But he had requested an escort, not a sexual companion. Still, her intent had been unflagging from the start. Heat suffused his face and a smile parted his lips. What a delightful complication.

  “I must ...”

  She knelt before him, her warm hands resting on his thighs. Flesh and blood. No matter how detailed the program none of his simulations captured the magnificence of a real woman, the distinct scent, the unpredictability.

  “Don’t mind me.” She reached for the button on the front of his waistband, her fingers nimble and skilled. “Concentrate on your work. You’re an important businessman.”

  His hands trembled as she lowered his zipper and freed his hardened shaft. He quickly amplified the audio signal. If the scanner registered the Mystic, the device would vibrate and buzz. She pumped her hand up and down his length, her grip firm and fast. Stubbornly keeping his gaze fixed on the scanner’s display, he lifted his arms, making more room for her to play. Her lips closed around him and his thoughts scattered, lost in the glorious slide of her warm, wet mouth.

  * * * * *

  Evan pulled Dro Tar to her feet. Water swirled around their thighs. His hands rested on her shoulders, but he made no move to embrace her. “If this is an amusing interlude, tell me now.”

  She licked her lips and stepped closer. “It’s whatever we want it to be. The brothers dar Aune might have set the stage, but this is our performance.”

  “I’m not performing for anyone. This is just you and me.” He cupped her cheek with his hand as his heart thudded against his ribs. For so long he’d dreamed of holding her again, touching her skin, and tasting her mouth. He understood why she’d shut him out. He didn’t agree with her strategy, but at least he understood. “If you let me back into your life, nothing will keep us apart.”

  “We’re standing here naked.” She tilted her head and gazed into his eyes. “Do you really want to talk?”

  His other hand found the small of her back and eased her closer still. He rubbed his cock against her warm belly, aching to be inside her. “I’m just giving you fair warning. I can be stubborn too.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, groaning as her full breasts pressed against his chest. Covering her mouth with his, he kissed her, staking his claim with unmistakable intensity. Their lips slid and their tongues tangled; her response instantaneous and eager. He guided her head to his shoulder as his arms tightened around her slender frame. Ravenous, desperate, he need
ed more of her, all of her.

  The bedroom suddenly seemed an impossible distance. He had to have her now. Her hands stroked up and down his back, pausing every so often to squeeze his butt. She rocked against him. The throaty sounds she made added fuel to his raging desire. He had to slow down, savor their rediscovery. They’d waited fifteen cycles for this moment. One of them had to remain in control or they would both go up in flames.

  “Enough!” He separated their mouths and pushed her to arms’ length. “You will not touch me unless I give you leave.” He hadn’t meant the words to sound quite so demanding, but her lips parted and a faint tremor passed through her body. Before he could whisper an apology, she lowered her arms to her sides.

  Dizzying images swept through his mind. Their last night together had shocked and amazed him. He’d never experienced anything like it, never dreamed such pleasure existed. She’d willingly submitted to his every demand. Her pleasure growing in tandem with his aggression.

  “Reach back and grab the rim of the spa. I want no distractions as I touch you.” She hesitated, her breasts quivering with each ragged breath. He took her wrists and narrowed his gaze, focusing on the emotions emanating from her. She wanted him, there was no doubt about her desire, but did she want to submit? Staring deep into her eyes, he leaned in close, his lips hovering over hers. “Each time we touched it was wonderful, but nothing compared to our last night together.”

  She licked her lips, the tip of her tongue brushing his mouth. “We had to do it that night,” she whispered, her warm breath wafting across his damp lips. “Why do I want it now?”

  “I don’t care why as long as this is what you want, what we want.”

  Without breaking eye contact, she moved her hands to the rim of the spa, dragging him forward as she went. Her hard nipples teased his chest and her scent filled his nose, stirring dark, primal instincts he hadn’t recognized before he met her. He knew her scent, craved her taste, longed for her surrender.

 

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