Consumed, she quickly soaked his leggings with a flood of cum. The slippery slide of the fabric only increased the friction on her clit, bringing her oh-so close to the edge. As if he sensed the approach of the maelstrom, his soaked fingers delved into the crack of her buttocks. The thin lace panties offered no real barrier as his fingers sought and found her hole. Slicking the rim they slowly pushed past her sphincter muscles.
Sobbing because the sensation of fullness overwhelmed her, she screamed into his mouth. He totally surrounded her, filling her mouth and her ass with parts of his own body and yet, strangely, it was the fact that he refused to enter that one sacred place that finally convinced her to fully surrender.
Melting against him, she lost herself in the rhythm he set, welcoming the dual thrusts of his cock outside her and his fingers within. The slow leisure with which he’d established his dominance quickly dissipated. Hard, fast, ravenous, he pounded against her. Desperately she arched her hips, instinctively seeking her release against him. He moaned against her mouth, signaling the keen edge of his own pleasure. Then, just when she thought she’d be riding the high forever, it seemed a gravitational whirlpool caught her in its dizzying grip. She knew she screamed again, probably his name, but she was hardly aware of herself by now. Only him and his own fierce shout as he climaxed against her.
He slumped against her, his hot breath fanning her cheek. Sated, she followed her instincts and turned her head to nuzzle her face against his, purposely delaying any thoughts about the consequences of what had just happened between them. A moment later he withdrew his fingers from her ass. Her legs were still wrapped around him and she wasn’t sure if they would support her, but she let him go and he eased her, gently, to the ground. When he would have released her, she shook her head against his chest, reluctant to end the connection between them. He held on.
Had she ever been this close to one single person in her entire life?
She knew the answer before she’d even asked the question. It wasn’t that difficult. Never.
What was much harder was admitting to herself that he wanted more. That he’d been perfectly clear on that point. Even more shocking was the fact that she was ready to say yes.
“So,” she whispered, afraid her voice would crack if she spoke in a normal tone. “You, ah, want to have an affair?”
Chapter Three
Without a word Judan Ringa stepped back and dropped his arms, releasing her completely. Even his hair pulled free of its hold on her, although several strands still floated in the space between them.
Swamped by emotions she couldn’t understand, let alone name, she ignored the ache in her shoulders and pressed the palms of her hands against the door, determined she was not going to collapse in a puddle of angst at this man’s feet.
Idiot. Why had she taken the risk and asked the question?
But she wasn’t an idiot and she knew the answer to this question too. It was always better to know where she stood with a man and in this case doubly so because she would be working with him on this field assignment.
Totally absorbed in rebuilding her crumbling defenses, she didn’t even notice what Judan was doing until he settled his hands on her shoulders. Startled, she looked up into his green eyes as he set to work gently kneading her muscles all the way down her arms. His impassive expression gave no hint of his thoughts or his feelings.
“Myrina,” he asked when he reached the sensitive dip of her elbows, “what does ‘have an affair’ mean?”
Praising the solid mass of door behind her and her shaky but stable legs, she laughed out loud. Well now, isn’t this embarrassing? And yet it made perfect sense. She rested her head back against the door, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Judan’s English was excellent, almost idiomatically perfect, but it was his second language and she didn’t suppose he’d ever had cause to discuss “having an affair” with anyone while negotiating the Dakokatans’ membership into the Confederacy. Which also meant she really had been a bit of an idiot interpreting his actions using her own cultural norms.
She opened her eyes and cleared her throat. “It means that we…that on our way to Hitani we’re… Well, dammit, you said ‘this time’, which implies a next time, which means you’re asking me to have an affair while we go to Hitani and rescue the Outposters.”
“No, I’m not.”
Thoroughly exasperated, especially since the fatigue had returned, making it impossible to think straight, she tugged her arms out of his grasp and pushed him away. He stepped back far too quickly for her peace of mind.
“So what was this then, a cheap thrill?” she asked, idioms be damned.
He shook his head, his face registering his obvious confusion over her reaction. “I don’t understand what you just said, but I’m sure the answer is no. And I don’t want a cheap thrill affair either.”
The man was a quick study and he obviously wasn’t about to let her use any difficulties he had with the English language to baffle him.
“Then what was this…”
“Myrina, I want you.”
Stunned, her fingers curled against the smooth surface of the door seeking a firmer grip. She found none and turned away, unwilling to leave herself so exposed to the man despite their recent intimacies.
“It’s late,” she said, absently smoothing the edges of her skirt. “I’d better go to my apartment. We leave early in the morning.”
“Myrina.”
She hesitated. She did not want him to explain or coax or persuade or to even talk to her right now. “Yes?”
“Wait for me. I’ll change and walk you home.” He turned and strode purposefully toward the bedroom.
As soon as he was out of sight, she walked the few short steps to the little table and checked her appearance in the oval mirror that hung above it. Just as she feared, her face was drained of color, her eyes definitely betrayed signs of fragility and her hair was spiked every which way. In other words she was a mess outside and in.
I want you.
Three little words she’d spent her entire life waiting to hear. She closed her eyes against the pain and the impossibility, only to open them again because she never hid from herself.
Dropping her gaze she spotted the glass of water on the table. However, when she reached out for it, her hand trembled so badly she snatched it back into the familiar, comforting folds of her skirt. Her fist crushed the plush velvet while she steadied her nerves and blinked back the salty tears that threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes.
She’d cried only once since she was five years old. Back then one of the older girls at the orphanage had expropriated her single toy, a doll much older than herself that no one else had wanted because of its faded eyes and the three bald patches on its head. The second time, she’d been mourning a deep loss. This time she didn’t have an excuse. She would not cry.
She smoothed her skirt and went through the motions of straightening the rest of her outfit. All the while she watched the glass of water. It wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was she until she’d taken a drink.
Resolutely she reached out and picked it up, two-handed but without the shakes, lifted it to her lips and took a sip. She glanced into the mirror when she felt a prickle along the back of her neck. Sure enough, Judan Ringa, dressed in his black boots and a loose, black tunic-style shirt that hung over a new pair of leggings, stood a few paces behind her. Watching. Studying.
She turned and held out the glass. “Would you like some?”
An odd mixture of pleasure and amazement transformed the angular lines and planes of his face, making them appear far less stern. He stepped forward and encircled her hands and the glass with his before bending forward a little so she wouldn’t have to reach so high. When he’d taken his fill he smiled at her, his eyes blazing with renewed desire.
But all he said was, “Thank you, Myrina,” before he released her hands. “Are you ready to leave?”
She nodded. Turning to put the glass bac
k on the table, she paused. It seemed the height of silliness to seem so unsure about such a simple action, yet she had the strong sense she’d left something unfinished.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m sorry, I’m ready.” She took another quick sip of the water and set the glass down. Only then did she remember that he too had taken a sip of the water after serving her. Before she could consider the oddity of her actions mimicking his, the door slid open and she followed him out into the corridor.
He held out his hand, an invitation that surprised her. His position, hers, the crisis on Hitani and the job they had to do together—all good reasons to discount what had happened between them tonight inside the privacy of his room as an aberration of both their behaviors. Besides, her personal priorities wouldn’t normally allow her to jeopardize her career by accepting such a blatant public acknowledgment of their intimacy.
I want you.
The memory of his words echoed in the silence around them, beckoning her with those impossible dreams. Yet there he stood ready to walk her home, his outstretched hand offering her a place at his side. She was a crazy idiot to trust this—him—any further than she already had, yet the tiniest seed of longing that had lain dormant for longer than she cared to remember stirred inside her heart.
She’d never risked working with a lover before and entangling her security with the intense bursts of carnal satisfaction she’d occasionally sought for herself. She hadn’t exactly planned to gamble her future this time either. But fate in the guise of Fenton deMorriss had already cast the dice and she was heading out on a field assignment tomorrow. So right now seemed as good a time as any to take a personal risk.
She accepted his hand and together they walked down the hall to the bank of escalators that would take them to her floor. Moments later they stood outside the door to her apartment. He was still holding her hand and he seemed somehow disinclined to release it.
“Well, good night, Judan.”
“Good night, Myrina.” He tugged her around to face him and for a moment she thought he might kiss her again. “I’ll meet you just before seven at the Ketiga Bulan.”
A part of her brain noted that this was the first time she’d heard the name of his ship. The rest of her held back. A name made the ship more real. Which made the voyage a tangible reality too. Unable to nod, she could only hope for the best.
He turned to go, but, at the last moment, she tugged his hand, halting his progress.
“Judan.”
He turned those laser eyes on her, focused, intent.
Intimate impetuosity had never been her strong suit, but she seemed to be in a risky mood this evening. Standing on tiptoe, she brushed her lips across his.
“I like your smell, too,” she whispered before letting him go.
* * * * *
Absolutely no way. She could not do it.
She’d passed through the docking checkpoint without a hitch. She’d even entered the docking bay itself. The utilitarian room was no more than five or six meters long, but she’d taken one look and come to a halt.
Illuminated by harsh lights, the Speedlite’s hatchway looked like the gaping mouth of some fiendish monster ready to swallow her whole—an image that set her body shaking so hard she clutched herself for support. Her heart banged loudly against her chest, setting off reverberations in her head and, despite the cool shower she’d taken only forty minutes ago, her entire body was coated in a sheen of sweat.
If standing inside the doors of deVere’s private docking bay gave her the willies, walking on board the ship was expecting the impossible.
Of course, early last evening Myrina would have claimed having a hot and heavy sexual encounter with a Dakokatan Warlord was an impossibility too, so what did she know?
She knew. The symptoms were unmistakable. And as if the other physical sensations weren’t bad enough, her throat seized up threatening to choke her every time she even thought of taking another step forward. She’d always considered it some sort of diabolical joke when, years ago, her psychiatrist had identified her reactions as a “limited symptom attack”. Limited, my sweet petunia!
Every time she so much as looked at a shuttle, let alone a ship the size of a Speedlite, nausea overcame her. Over the years she’d tried all the standard cures for her anxiety attacks and a few nonstandard ones as well. Nothing had worked, unless she wanted to try the drug route, which she most emphatically did not. She’d managed to survive a childhood that was dependent on the whims of others, she was not about to hand over her adulthood to a harsher master.
Since Fenton’s pronouncement she’d cocooned herself in a state of denial. And last night she’d effectively managed to suppress her worst fears and proceed with plans for the job as if she were heading to the lab rather than out into The Field. Even this morning she’d taken her shower and convinced herself she was dressing for work, as usual. But face-to-face with the hatchway into the Speedlite she knew she hadn’t really fooled herself. Her brain was way too smart to let her fool it into thinking they were merely taking another quick trip to a satellite meeting station, which was the main reason she’d never asked either Fenton or Judan just how long it took to reach Hitani.
The truth was, it would take more than guts or a keen desire to save the Outposters to get her aboard the Dakokatan Speedlite.
In self-disgust she flung her duffel bag onto the floor. It whizzed across the smooth surface like one of those shiny black pucks her friends used to chase in their hockey games at the rec centre, coming to rest with a soft thud against the hatchway. Traitor. If even her bag could head in the right direction, why couldn’t she?
“Welcome to the Ketiga Bulan,” a low, deep voice said from behind her.
She whirled around so fast she felt lightheaded and came face-to-chest with Judan Ringa. She hadn’t sensed his presence at all, or maybe she had but the tingles had been hidden by all her other symptoms.
He was dressed in the same black outfit she’d first seen him in, minus the cape and wig. With his copper hair flowing sensuously around the fine cloth of his shirt—a garment she knew from personal experience hid an amazingly smooth-skinned, muscular frame—he made for an infinitely more appealing sight than the Speedlite’s hatchway. Except, of course, for the fact that now he would expect her to follow him through that cavernous hole onto his ship.
“Um, hello. I, ah, arrived a few minutes ago.” Well crap. Not only were her nerve signals confused but so, apparently, was her ability to tell the truth, because she’d gone and lied to him. She’d been standing in the docking port for a good ten minutes at least.
He frowned down at her. Given his track record so far with reading her mind, she wouldn’t be at all surprised if he could tell she was fibbing.
“What are you wearing that for?”
“What?” Startled by his hyperjump in their conversation, she checked her jumpsuit. It looked okay to her. “I always wear this to the lab.”
“You aren’t going to the lab.”
“Fine,” she said, waving her hands in exasperation. She did not need to be arguing technicalities right now. “I always wear it to work.”
If anything his frown deepened. Once again his response reminded her of a pissed-off green alien or at the very least an annoyed one. What is his problem this morning, anyway?
“I didn’t like it yesterday afternoon and I like it even less this morning.”
Well tough! She immediately bristled at the insult. This was definitely not the sort of meeting she’d imagined having with him the morning after. Where was the tender but assertive lover? The man who only last night had asked her to trust him?
“It’s comfortable,” she said and instantly hated herself for defending her wardrobe choice.
He shook his head. “It’s ugly. Take it off.”
“I beg your pardon?” She took two steps back. He followed, looking if not exactly pissed off, then at least determined as hell.
“You hea
rd me,” he said. His voice sounded deceptively casual, with a hint of seduction. “The begging part is optional.”
A rush of adrenaline zinged through her veins, sending a shot of heat straight to her pussy. No way would she ever actually beg the man for anything, but the suggestion alone was enough to turn her on. Big time.
“Yeah, I did hear you,” she said, overcome by a wild desire to push back. Test his limits. Maybe even tease him a little. She straightened to her full height. He still towered over her by a good eight inches, but she wasn’t about to let that stop her. “And what if I don’t? Are you going to make me?”
He didn’t bother to disguise the answering flare of lust in his eyes at her challenge. In less than a heartbeat his hands curled around her lapels. An instant later he ripped open the snaps of her jumpsuit clear down to her crotch.
“Now just a damn minute,” she screeched, abruptly aware they were still standing in the middle of the docking bay. She tried to back up, only he wasn’t letting go.
“And that’s another thing.” With no effort at all he hauled her to within inches of his face. Immediately the faint smell of sandalwood tantalized her senses. “While you’re on my ship you’ll watch your language.”
“Watch my language?” she sputtered. “Are you nuts?”
More to the point, was she nuts? Except for her panties she wasn’t wearing anything underneath the suit. The cool air instantly caused her nipples to tighten to hard points that jutted towards him as though in offering. Which meant she was bared to his view and anyone else’s who happened to pass by. Well isn’t this just dandy. I’m turned on by the idea of being a freaking exhibitionist!
“By the Third Moon you are beautiful.” His voice cracked on the word “Third” and his eyes glazed over as he gazed down at her nearly naked body.
All the indignation drained out of her as she sensed the transformation within him. The visible signs of his anger dissolved so quickly she could hardly believe they’d been real. In their place, though, was something much more dangerous.
Love Partner Page 5