“Me.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked her to.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed to tie up the loose ends and I really don’t want to do this again. I’m too tired.”
“What are you talking about? We’re all tired. We’ve been stuck here, far from home, for centuries. But it’s almost over, and when it is, we’ll finally be free to move on.”
Her smile was sad, and the knowledge he saw in her eyes was disturbing.
“I hope so. This time, I truly hope so. I’ve done everything I could. Everything I could think of. If it doesn’t work this time, I don’t know what else to do.”
She stood, her bowl of soup half full, and paced his quarters.
“What are you talking about, princess?”
“I’ve told you not to call me that.”
“I know, but sometimes it’s the only way I can get your attention.” He walked to intercept her, blocked her path. The petite Seer stopped, her simple blue skirt and blouse obviously from one of Earth’s stores. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder as she stood before him, just like she’d done thousands of times before, and made him want. “Now. Tell me what the hell is going on. You look half dead and frazzled every time I see you. You disappear for days at a time and no one on this ship knows where you are. The Timewalkers don’t know where you are.” He lifted her chin with his finger and forced her to look him in the eye. “I don’t know where you are.”
The tip of her chin against his finger was electric, but he didn’t push. He didn’t lean closer or hold her there. He lowered his hand but her face remained slanted up to look at him.
“How many times do you think we’ve done this, Bran? How many times do you think we’ve faced the Triscani since we came to this time?”
He didn’t like where this was going, not at all. “This is the first time we’ve made it this far.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s not.”
“What are you saying?”
“We lose, Bran. We lose and the Queen arrives with her warships and wipes out half the planet.”
“By the gods, female. What are you talking about?”
“We lose. Every time. Ask Helene.” Celestina wandered away from him to resume her original seat, staring down at Earth on his vid screen. “We lose. When things go wrong, when we lose, Helene finds the reason and we send a message back in time to ourselves in a soul stone so we can change things. Then we do it all again.”
Bran followed her to the seating area and sat across from her in the small space. “But that requires you to split your soul. To create a Remnant.” Bran studied her.
“I know.”
“How many times, Celestina?”
“We’ve each done it three times.”
Bran refused to believe her. He couldn’t believe her. “Then you’re both doomed.”
“We know.”
Chapter Eleven
Emma left Ajax pacing alone in the living room, slammed the door to her bedroom, and collapsed onto her back on her bed. She kicked off the slippers and threw her hands above her head on the pillow. Had it really been just a day ago that she’d woken to a Triscani Hunter sitting next to her bed? Had it really been three short days ago that she’d rolled out of bed, hit the shower, and spent the day working at the Daily, selling coffee and breakfast and worrying about what she was going to wear to karaoke night?
Just six weeks ago she’d been home with her mom, dad, and all the younger siblings, laughing and playing invisibility tag.
And now? Now she was skulking in her room, in a place that wasn’t even a real home, avoiding the one male she’d dreamed about her entire life.
Right. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t avoiding him. She was hiding from herself because despite all the issues, her body refused to listen to her heart or her head. Lust. Pure chemistry. It was torture. She wanted Ajax. She wanted his hands on her body, his kiss on her lips, his hard length filling her up. For the first time in her life, she wanted a man.
She wanted to burn.
Maybe she was a masochist after all.
Or maybe it was long past time for her to grow up and face facts. Fact, the moment the battle with the Triscani was over, Ajax was headed back to Itara. Fact, he’d refused her Mark twice and wouldn’t take her with him as his Queen. Fact, being rejected hurt, but it was also liberating because she didn’t want the three hundred year commitment, the eternal responsibility, that being his Queen would demand. Fact, it didn’t matter that he didn’t carry her Mark, her body burned for him anyway. She wanted him, she ached for his touch, and she’d never really wanted another male her entire life.
What if she never did again? What if this fire was a once in a lifetime event? Nicodemus was the perfect test case. That Darkwalker was as hot as they came, and his kiss had left her feeling lukewarm at best. What if that would be as good as it got? Maybe not forever, but for a damn long time. She’d been jumping around for decades, and this desire for Ajax was a first. What if it took her twenty years to find it again?
So, yes, her marshmallow of a heart would hurt when Ajax left, but it was already broken anyway. Why not take a ride on the wild side? Why not take what she wanted, just for a couple of hours? Especially if it was the only burn time she was likely going to get.
Ajax had practically attacked her earlier. His cock had been so hard and insistent pressed against the towel that she’d been tempted to wrap her legs around his waist and give it a go.
Yes, she’d kissed her little girl fantasies about him goodbye. But did that mean she couldn’t create some new ones? She’d read books with hot sex, lots and lots of hot sex, and the women in those books were adventurous, demanding, and not afraid to go after what they wanted. They didn’t need anyone’s permission to take a man to bed. If they wanted pleasure, they took it. No strings. No doubts. No guilt. Those women weren’t afraid to live.
For once, Emma wanted to choose her own path, not wait like a princess trapped in a tower for a King to come rescue her. For the first time in her life, Emma felt free. She wasn’t going to be the Queen. She wasn’t going to be responsible for ruling masses of people. She had no idea where she’d be next week, next month, or next year. She could be alive, or dead. On Earth or Itara. On a beach or in a business meeting. She had no idea. And the feeling was…liberating.
She didn’t need some sappy romance or true love’s kiss to break a spell.
She just wanted to feel vibrant and alive. She wanted to be adventurous, demanding and fearless. She was more than ready to take Ajax up on his earlier offer. For once, she wanted to be the body burning up under someone else’s hands.
In a couple hours they had to be back in Florida with the others. Once they arrived, she’d never get this opportunity again. They’d go to war, and then Ajax would go home, to his planet, his people, and his destiny.
If she wanted him, if she wanted to taste him, she had to do it now.
Now or never.
And the thought of never totally sucked. She’d heard once that you don’t regret the things you’ve done, you regret the opportunities you let pass you by. She didn’t want mind-blowing sex with Ajax to be one of those things.
She wanted him. So, she would have him. But how to go about it? She’d never seduced anyone before.
But the towel had worked pretty well. So had challenging him. If she could get him to kiss her again, she was fairly certain the high-octane chemistry between them would take care of the rest.
Adventurous. Demanding. Fearless.
Right.
Emma rose from the bed and removed her suit jacket, hanging it neatly in her closet. The suit was her one interview outfit, and she removed the rest, neatly hung the skirt and blouse and closed the door. She looked down at her matching peach-colored bra and bikini panties. The undergarments were layered with lace and made her feel pretty. She’d just showered a couple hours ago. Her finger and toenails were bare, but neat. She left the
pins in her hair so she could pull them out while he watched, so he would see the thick waves come down around her shoulders.
She’d watched hundreds of women tease and seduce a man, she’d just never done it before. But she was going to give it her best effort. She wasn’t on birth control, but she knew from Bran that Immortal males determined when, or if they would impregnate a female, and she knew Ajax would have no interest in having children with her. Hit it and quit it. That was what this would be, for both of them.
Emma pulled her cream-colored robe from the closet. It clung like a second skin and hit her well above the knees.
She knew she was small, but she was a woman and she thought everything seemed to be in proportion. If all the men who’d hit on her over the years were an indication, she’d do. She wasn’t overflowing her bra, but she had a little something there. Enough for Ajax to hold half and suck the other half into his mouth.
God. The thought nearly brought her to her knees. She was so very ready for this.
Emma opened her door and paused before walking out of her room. She closed her eyes and turned her attention inward, to the deep places where her power simmered and fueled her. She felt the energy of her Mark there, and for the first time in her life, bundled it up in layers of mental chains. The Mark seemed to be sentient, as if it had a direct line of communication with something bigger than she was, perhaps her soul, or the goddess? She didn’t know, but it didn’t fight her. Even her Timewalker power, her gift from the goddess, knew that there was no future for her with Ajax. Either that, or it didn’t want to be rejected again.
A goal Emma was totally in agreement with.
Just sex. One time. With the hottest male she’d ever met.
Her bare feet barely made a sound on the hardwood floor, but Ajax turned his head and watched her walk down the hallway and cross to stand in front of him. He sat on her sofa, facing the windows with his hands in fists that rested on top of his thighs.
Hands on her hips, she stood and looked him straight in the eye. His gaze dropped and she waited for him as he took his sweet time inspecting her lack of attire. Her pulse raced like a hummingbird’s and she would swear she could feel his gaze on her skin like a hot laser beam scorching everywhere it landed.
Ajax’s intense green gaze finally returned to hers and locked onto her, waiting.
Who was she kidding? Subtlety was not in her repertoire.
Holding his gaze, she moved forward and climbed onto his lap. His fists fell to rest beside her bare knees on the soft beige fabric, but he didn’t move, didn’t reach for her or wrap his arms around her as she straddled him.
“Emma.” Warning or question, she wasn’t sure which.
“Shhh.” She lifted her fingertip to his lips and hushed him. When he didn’t protest, she removed her hand and moved it to the front of her robe. She settled herself better in his lap, making sure strategically to place her hot core against the bulge in his pants. A jolt of pleasure rocketed through her as she rubbed her most sensitive spot against him. She stared at his mouth, dying for a taste of him, burning to touch him everywhere. She licked her lips as her fingers untied her robe and opened it, baring her to his gaze.
He didn’t touch her. Didn’t move. “I still can’t accept your Mark.”
“I know.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward, her lips hovering just above his mouth, savoring the sweet anticipation of sampling him again. She stared down into his dark eyes and told the truth. “I don’t care. I want you anyway.”
Unable to resist another moment, she closed the distance and traced the outline of his lips with the tip of her tongue. God, he tasted good. “I want you, Ajax. Right now.” She kissed his cheek and his chin. “I know we’ll never be Marked Mates. I know. And I don’t care. I want all of you, just this one time.”
“You already told me no.”
“Yes. But a girl is entitled to change her mind.” She kissed a trail of soft caresses across his cheekbone to his ear, every whispered word from her lips were pressed there in a hot rush of air. She wrapped her arms around his head and leaned forward so the lace of her bra pressed flat to his chest. “Come on, Ajax. One time. No one else ever has to know.”
His entire body hummed beneath her, tight as a bowstring, and she sensed that he was on the edge. She was more than prepared to give him one more push.
Sitting back, she settled her weight more firmly against his cock. She held his gaze as she shrugged out of the robe, and reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Loose now, the thin straps slid from her shoulders to rest halfway down her upper arms. All she needed to do to bare herself was drop her hands.
So she did. She wiggled out of the undergarment, her breasts thrust up at Ajax in blatant offering. He didn’t look away from her, his gaze intense and focused utterly and completely on her mouth. Naked from the waist up and completely exposed to him, Emma slid her hands slowly from his wrists, over his muscular forearms to his shoulders. She cupped his jaw and lowered her lips to his. “I’m not a child. I’m a woman and I know what I want. I don’t need forever, Ajax. I just need right now. I just need you to make me burn.”
God, she wanted his shirt gone, wanted to experience the heat of his bare skin rubbing all over hers. The empty ache between her legs was a painful throb that drove her to tilt her hips so she could grind against him.
The electric contact made her forget to breathe. She lowered her mouth to his and placed a hard, demanding kiss on his firm lips. He didn’t move. Why hadn’t he moved? Why wasn’t he touching her? Was he punishing her for her earlier rejection of him? Was he worried she’d change her mind again? Be angry with him after? Was guilt trapping his arms at his sides, or caution?
She didn’t want his honor, his conscience, or his pride to steal this moment from her. Couldn’t a King have a one-night stand?
Abandoning his lips, she lowered her mouth to his neck so she could reach down to the couch and find his clenched fists where they remained so close to her flesh that she could feel the heat radiating from them on her thighs. So close, but not touching.
That wasn’t acceptable.
Slowly she slid her much smaller fingers up over the tightly closed fingers of each of his fists, lightly traced the backs of his hands and enjoyed the texture and feel of them, so much bigger and stronger than her own. She curled her hands around his to grip them and lifted them from the couch to move them slowly up and down the tops of her bare thighs, using his limbs to touch herself the way she wanted him to pet her.
He didn’t pull away or fight her for control so she held on and raised his hands to the sides of her waist, then higher, pressing his closed fists to her bare breasts.
She held them there and leaned forward to press her lips to his over and over, two words her mantra between kisses as she rubbed his fingers up and down, up and down over her hard nipples, as each orchestrated trip of his hand stole more of her air. “Touch me.”
He didn’t move.
Emma was on the verge of complete and utter despair. She would seduce, entice or demand, but she would not beg. She lowered his hands back to the couch and released him.
Fine. He’d obviously changed his mind since he’d pushed against the wall in her bedroom and kissed her senseless. Now she could add physical rejection to his most excellent resume of hurting her, and she’d find another man to give her what she needed.
She twisted her head around to locate her dropped robe. She dismissed him from her mind, ignored him as if he were a statue or a painting on the wall. All she was focused on now was her exit.
There was no easy way to get off his lap, so she braced her hands on his shoulders and lifted one knee from the couch so she could get off this crazy train as quickly as possible.
God damn it. What the hell was wrong with him? No, what was wrong with her? She pulled away from him, breaking the contact everywhere at once and cold air rushed in to mock her nakedness. Okay. So, maybe this hadn’t been the most well thought-out
plan she’d ever come up with. She’d get over it, try to forget about it, and move on. She didn’t do drama or self-pity parties. She was a big girl. She’d made a play and it hadn’t worked.
It hurt like hell and the sexual frustration threatened to buckle her knees, but she’d deal. So be it.
Before she knew what was happening, his hands were tangled in her hair and he pulled her back down. Grip unbreakable, he held her still, their faces nearly touching. His arms were trembling, and she was shocked to see the stoic mask was gone. In its place was the face of a male on the edge of control. “Are you sure, Emma? This is what you want?”
“Yes.” All the air had long ago deserted her lungs and she found that all she could manage was that one word. He held her head still and the instant her body realized he wasn’t going to let her go, it reset. She settled her weight onto his lap again, her momentary doubts melted away under his command. Every cell in her body hungered. For touch. For relief. For him.
His gaze locked with hers and he looked deeply into her eyes as he closed the distance between them. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t close her eyes. She was trapped in the heat of his gaze, paralyzed by the raw hunger he no longer hid from her. Something feral and wild awakened under his gaze, under his control, a newly born fire in her gut that demanded more fuel, more contact, more…just more.
Their kiss exploded through her like a blast of dynamite. She didn’t feel him move, too caught up in the sensual bliss of his lips crushing hers, his tongue exploring the inside of her mouth and the strength of his arms as they locked her to him.
The soft loops of her area rug tickled her body as he laid her down on the floor and knelt beside her. Vision glazed, she whimpered in protest as he pulled away from her long enough to undress. But the tigress in her settled at the first sight of his bare chest and rippled stomach. She settled and allowed herself to enjoy the visual feast as he kicked off his boots. His pants followed and he stood for the second time before her, naked and magnificent.
Instead of reaching for him, she lifted her arms over her head and arched her body before him, putting herself on display in a blatant offering.
White Fire: Timewalker Chronicles, Book 5 Page 12