Chuckling, Harris withdrew, and she felt every inch of him, still half hard pulling out. He collapsed at her side, and she turned her head, blowing her hair out of her face to meet his smiling gaze.
“You loved every minute of it, darlin’.”
“Did I say I didn’t? I’m just not moving anytime in the next week or so.”
Ethan’s hand moved up and down her back in long lazy strokes. She loved when he did that. “No more running, baby?”
She thought it over before she answered. She really wasn’t fighting it anymore. A part of her had begun to accept, begun to embrace these bonds.
“No.”
Even if she could free herself now, she didn’t want to. She sensed he wanted to talk more about that, but she felt too raw, the acceptance too new, and her body still hummed with satisfaction as lassitude set into her limbs. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift. Sleep wasn’t far behind. She stirred when one of them cleaned her with a damp cloth but didn’t wake until dusk, and Ethan nudged her awake to get ready for the party.
***
A couple of hours later, Gabby stepped to the edge of the clearing and joined Liza. The paladin glanced at the two men hovering behind her.
“Go find something to do for a bit, guys. I need private word with my assistant.”
They both hesitated, and Liza’s eyes narrowed in ire.
“Go,” Gabby ordered.
Ethan recognized the tone, and while he arched a sardonic eyebrow, he turned to obey, grabbing Harris’s arm to pull him along. Harris went but the look he shot her promised retribution. She shivered. Maybe he’d tie her up again. When they were gone, Gabby linked her arm with Liza’s. She leaned into Gabby with a grateful smile.
“We could get some chairs,” she offered softly.
Liza shook her head. “I’m fine. Just a little tired. It’ll pass.”
Gabby knew better than to argue with that tone so she looked around the clearing. She saw Caleb and Zack working through the crowd, and Caleb met her gaze, his expression a combination of worry and question. Gabby gave a slight shake of her head. She knew her alpha. He wanted to march over and order Liza to sit or return to the house. If he did either, he’d have a fight on his hands, and it wasn’t necessary. Between Gabby and Harper, they would maneuver Liza into resting. As if the witch read her mind, Harper stepped off the trail and approached them, smiling, her mates in tow carrying three chairs.
“Hey,” she said brightly as Jonas and Mick unfolded the lawn chairs and set them in a little semicircle overlooking the clearing. She was just beginning to show, and it was impossible not to grin at her joy. And laugh at Jonas as he glared and nudged her to sit. She rolled her eyes, leaned toward Gabby and Liza, and in a stage whisper said, “I’m helpless now, you know.”
“Get used to it. They don’t improve with age,” Liza grumbled, taking the center chair.
Harper shooed her mates off, and the three women sat in silence for several minutes. Gabby kept a watchful eye on a group of rambunctious juveniles until raised voices from another part of the party caught her attention. She turned to see her parents arguing — big surprise — and rolled her eyes. She was getting ready to stand and intervene when her mother turned and winked at her. What the hell? Then her mother turned on her heel and stalked away from the party, her mates trailing along and grumbling.
“Did she just wink at you?” Liza asked, incredulous.
“Yeah. I think so.” She shook her head. “I’m beginning to think maybe she picks most of those fights.”
“I really don’t want to ask why, do I?” Harper asked.
“Probably not, no. I don’t either.”
Gabby met Liza’s frank, assessing gaze. “And how are you doing?”
Gabby turned to search out Ethan and Harris, who’d apparently decided they’d had enough girl time and were almost back to her. She grinned. “We’re a work in progress.”
She knew they’d overhear. Ethan laughed and grabbed her hand, pulling her to feet. “A work in progress? I like that.”
“I don’t,” Harris complained, pulling her from Ethan’s arms.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re grumpy and way too serious?”
He cocked a very arrogant eyebrow and leaned in to whisper close to her ear. “Careful, darlin’. Just because I won’t try to dominant you outside our bedroom doesn’t mean you can get away with whatever you want out here. I will make you pay.”
She trembled at the sensual pledge. In her wildest dreams. “Promise?” she whispered back.
He groaned and met Ethan’s gaze over her head. “Have we put in enough of an appearance?”
She laughed and pulled free. “No, honey. Sorry. I haven’t seen my brother yet.”
She jumped away before he could catch her, and it became a game through the next few hours. Every time one of them tried to corner her, she danced free. She knew they were letting her, but she didn’t care. They were letting her do her thing, checking on the younger soldiers and trainees in her charge, socializing and gathering the gossip and news Liza would ask for later. They were never far but they didn’t hover or interfere.
It reassured her as nothing else could have, so at midnight when she ventured too close to the dance area, and they swooped in on her from two different directions, she accepted them with a laugh. Joy infused her. Love, laughter. All the things she’d been afraid to dream of for herself. Ethan had her hands while Harris gripped her hips and pressed into her from behind. He leaned down to nibble that sensitive spot under her ear and she giggled.
“Something funny, darlin’?”
She looped an arm around Ethan’s neck then twisted to wrap the other around Harris’s. “Not a thing,” she whispered, standing on her toes to brush a kiss over his mouth. “I’m just happy with what I found when I wasn’t looking.”
“Is that right?” Ethan drawled.
She gave him an arch look. “And I don’t share.”
He grinned. “Baby, I’m all yours. I always have been.”
“Then take me home,” she said softly, including Harris in her soft demand. “Maybe this time I can show you how much I love you.”
Instead of only them trying to show her. Ethan’s smile was huge and smug. “Finally admitting it, are you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to gloat all night, or are you a man of action?”
“Oh, darlin’,” Harris whispered against her ear, dark and dangerous and sending a tendril of wicked desire whipping through her. “I warned you about the attitude, didn’t I?”
Before she could protest he moved, lifting her and tossing her over her shoulder as he stalked from the clearing. She blushed at the cheers of approval and cat calls that urged him on, but she laughed as they carried her home and cried out her delight as they showed her exactly how they felt about her throughout the night.
About Loribelle Hunt
Loribelle is a former Army MP who traded in her combat boots for motherhood, flip flops, and all the Diet Coke she can drink. (She almost misses the combat boots.) She’s the author of more than 20 books, herder of three energetic children, and occasional sun worshipper.
Loribelle can be found on the web at www.loribellehunt.com
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Read an Excerpt from Invasion Earth: Delroi Connection Book One
Sergeant Major Laney Bradford stood on a ledge cut into the cliff side, watching over the battlefield through binoculars. The valley spread out before her, dust swirling around troops and sending plumes into the air. Hazy heat shimmers obstructed her field of vision. At least from this lofty position the smells of battle didn’t assault her nostrils—the too old latrines and lingering blood from the night before. The cordite from discharged weapons drifting on the breezy updraft provided a harsh enough reminder of the carnage.
Things weren’t going well. She snorted. That was a laughable understatement. The Alliance army, her army, had called for a temporary cease-fire and the enem
y, in an odd show of largess, had granted a small reprieve. Laney clenched her jaw and resisted the urge stomp her feet in frustration. Acting like a petulant child had never been her style and it wouldn’t get her far anyway.
The Alliance had managed to hold back the invaders from the mainland for a year, sacrificing outlying territories here and there, but it was a wasted effort. The Delroi were winning. They knew it. The Alliance knew it. Hell, everyone knew it.
She studied the enemy’s array on the valley floor below. The Alliance’s superior numbers were insignificant in the face of the Delroi’s superior technology. Laney’s spies stole it when they could but there was no way to put anything into production in time to save the Alliance.
A truck lumbered to the front of the enemy’s lines and she watched with apprehensive interest, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was something new. New couldn’t be good. She heard the agitated murmurs of the others around her and knew they’d reached the same conclusion. The vehicle’s driver and team exited. They looked human—any one of them could have passed for one of her soldiers, except the Delroi tended to be a few inches taller than average and most of them didn’t keep their hair cut to the short military precision demanded of the Alliance’s male soldiers. They set to work quickly removing the vehicle’s sides. They removed a tarp from the top to reveal its contents. Laney felt more than heard the collective gasp of the soldiers around her. Lowering the glasses, she reached for her radio and turned to the man beside her.
While she admired the enemy’s ingenuity and wished she could counteract it, dismay was uppermost in her mind. She couldn’t even find it in herself to be angry. She’d fought too long and too hard to create the Alliance to see it destroyed by their own damned weapon. Damned being the operative word. Fear added an unfamiliar tremble to her voice.
“General, that’s one of ours. We should order a retreat and clear as much of the surrounding area as we can,” she said.
He nodded. “They’ll want to discuss terms for surrender, not retreat.”
She shrugged, hiding her unease behind her usual cool and professional facade. The wishes of the Delroi were not her immediate concern. She keyed the mike and sent the order to move out down the chain of command.
The alien enemy had uncovered an experimental bomb. Called the Doomsayer, it gave new vision to the ancient Roman practice of salting the earth. If detonated, it would poison the land for a hundred square miles, killing everything in its path. A truly horrifying weapon and one that never should have been created. She’d protested its creation, had been overruled. She would do whatever was necessary to dismantle it now including agreeing to a surrender and forcing her superiors, the generals behind her, to accept it.
Laney trained the field glasses on the enemy command center on the opposite cliff. While she watched, commotion erupted in their ranks after someone pointed out the Alliance’s preparation for retreat. A newly arrived general lifted his field glasses, studied the valley floor, and then turned them on her.
Laney bit back a gasp. She had seen this one before, and he was quite the specimen. He made her heart pound wildly, had since the first time she’d spotted him. Tall, at least six-foot-four with a broad chest she was certain was chiseled under his tight tunic, he had long golden hair and a hard jaw. A shiver worked down her spine and she shifted under the weight of his gaze across the distance.
Snap out of it, Laney. He’s the enemy. He was also gorgeous. What could lusting from afar hurt? Her radio crackled to life and interrupted her thoughts. Handing it to the general standing beside her, she continued watching the Delroi general. She’d never met his gaze before, if this could count, and was loath to break it. She wished she could tell what color his eyes were, if they were as intense close up as his regard was at this distance. Like a childish game of chicken, she refused to look away first, somehow knew he felt the same way. Did kids play chicken on his world? She shook her head and focused on the match at hand.
“Sergeant Major,” a low voice called behind her. She slowly lowered the binoculars, unwilling to break contact first, and turned.
“Yes?” She sized up the circle of generals, noting her old friend, General Bob Darren, at the center.
“They sent a message and a radio frequency. He said he’ll only speak with you. You’re on,” Bob said, his face solemn.
She reached for the radio he held out and turned back to face the enemy command center, glasses zeroing in on the blond. He’s still watching. As she stared, he lifted a corresponding radio to his lips. They were full, firm. Totally kissable. She scowled. Where the hell had that thought come from? She hadn’t combined male and kiss in her thoughts in longer than she could remember, not even the last time she’d seen him. She lifted the radio, which now had the proper frequency, forcing herself to focus on the situation at hand, and a gravelly voice came over it. His voice.
“Are you ready to discuss terms?”
Laney took a deep breath, fighting her body’s reaction to his voice, reminding herself sharply that she had an audience who would wonder at her uneven breathing, at the flush she felt on her cheeks and neck. “Yes. But first, we want to disperse these armies and secure that weapon.”
“It will take several days to clear this area.”
His tone was low and commanding. There was something indefinable in it, something that made her heart thump and her knees a little weak. His gaze intensified, focused solely on her, and she swore she felt his big hands stroking her, urging her to take him deep inside her. With a mental nudge, she shook it off just as Bob gave her a concerned look.
“Yes,” she answered. Did she hear a tremble in her voice? God, she hoped not. “Days which will give us time to find a neutral location for talks and our leaders to join us.” She thought he would refuse, but after several minutes, he nodded.
“We will secure your weapon and make arrangements for talks on one of our ships in three days time.”
The generals around her murmured their reluctant assent. It may have been because they were less willing to argue with her if they refused than face the Prime Minister’s disapproval over surrender. She didn’t care. She wasn’t risking the lives of a hundred thousand soldiers for someone’s hubris. “Fine.”
She lowered the binoculars, handed the radio to one of the junior aides to make the arrangements, and escaped the area. The enemy general’s rough voice still seemed to skim over her skin, electrifying nerve endings that had held no life for years. She felt an unaccustomed wetness between her legs and hurried to her quarters. God, what was wrong with her? Of all the damned luck, her libido came back to life for one of them. The enemy.
Once inside the small space, she headed through the cramped living area and into the tiny shower enclosure. A small, vain privilege of rank perhaps, but she had never felt gladder of it. Hurriedly, she stripped her uniform and boots off, reaching in to turn on the spray. She let the hot water wash the grime from her body while her hands traveled its length. She was desperate for an orgasm, a longing she hadn’t felt in so long she couldn’t remember the last time.
She shook as she fought the compulsion to touch herself more intimately, tried to force his image, his voice from her mind. Desperately, she tried to recall the face of her last lover, of any lover, any man who turned her on like this, but all she saw was the blond Delroi. Her hands clenched as she struggled against the fire racing through her veins, the confusion fogging her brain. Why did she feel so drawn, so pulled to him? She’d seen him before and never had this extreme reaction. But she’d never seen his eyes before, never been the object of a stare so intense, a stare she swore she felt as strong fingers stroking her, teasing her. And that voice when he asked her about discussing terms, that voice had seemed to promise ecstasy in surrender. Her sex spasmed with need, with want at the thought and she gave up fighting against herself.
Eyes closed, she reached for her nipples, imagining the enemy general’s big hands pinching the distended flesh, providing just
enough pain to make it pleasurable. She squeezed and flicked at the hard tips, her breath coming in gasps. One hand snuck between her legs. Her pussy creamed and she imagined him licking at it, eating her until she came, and then plunging his cock into her. She wanted him fast and hard and stroked her clit as the fantasy gained momentum. She came with a cry; thankful the pounding water muffled the sound, and sagged against the wall, spent.
Several minutes later, Laney reached for the soap and washed with brisk strokes. Her body burned with lingering pleasure and embarrassment. Fantasizing about the enemy had never been a problem for her before, and she had faced plenty of enemies in her thirty-five years. It was mortifying, this attraction, and oh so wrong. She sighed. With any luck at least, she would never have to face him again.
General Alrik Torfa couldn’t believe his good luck. When the aide brought news that Sergeant Major Laney Bradford, was in the Alliance war party, he had rushed up to the observation ledge. These battles were pointless. The Earth soldiers could not prevail. They had managed to drag things out this long because his people had an interest in not destroying this world.
The Sergeant Major was the reason for the humans’ success. Their most talented strategist, she obviously had the soldiers’ admiration. They never quit and never surrendered. The general in him admired such leadership, but the Delroi part of his psyche was horrified the Earth leaders risked their women in war. Women who represented the future of his people.
In a last ditch effort to bring things peaceably to an end, he had seized one of their most powerful weapons, a world destroyer, and drawn the battle to this almost empty desert. If it had to be used, his scientists assured him they could clean up the mess. Surely the Earth contingent, who didn’t fully understand its enemy’s capabilities, would surrender rather than test his determination.
But everything changed when he stepped on the observation platform and got his first glimpse of Laney Bradford. She would surrender. First her armies, and then her body. His blood stirred at the thought, imagining her writhing in ecstasy beneath him.
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