TalsonsNet

by Marie Harte

  Though his face gave nothing away, his tension eased. “San, you say?” He stepped closer to the piece she’d been studying.

  Deliberately holding her ground, she watched impassively as he leaned over the table to study the object. Should he step a fraction closer, he’d touch her leg. Knowing Keilor’s inherent ability to sense fear, she worked hard to keep her heartbeat level and her body loose.

  She launched into speech to keep him focused on the debris. “I know the San are pyrokinetics, but they’d need to use a device to throw us off their scent. I mean, blowing up the shuttle without an incendiary would immediately throw suspicion on them. The presence of the bomb not only shields them from suspicion, but by using it, they better contained the blast. As it was positioned, it would have killed Uncle Fulton if he hadn’t stopped for a fuel check. The damage showed little impact to the storage areas of the craft. That’s over a million credits in rare Otra artifacts.”

  She almost had herself convinced the San clan had made the attempt on the shuttle.

  Keilor stood to his full height and dusted his hands off on the front of his slacks. Expensive and designed to impress, the slacks sat well on his long legs but did absolutely nothing for her. Not that she’d ever thought of him that way. They were cousins through her aunt’s marriage, not through blood. Keilor had pestered her for sex since she’d turned twenty, six years ago, but his interest had always left her cold. Val Talson, on the other hand…

  “Well, well.” Keilor’s eyes turned silver. He took a step closer.

  She immediately retreated and wanted to call herself ten kinds of fool. His psychei fanned out, brushing against hers, and she realized she’d intrigued him further by showing her unease.

  “What?” She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. She glanced subtly at the wall by the elevator and wondered if she’d be able to hit the communications link before he could grab her. Come on, Quinn. Don’t forget I’m down here.

  He took a deep breath and smiled, shooting her a look of utter male satisfaction. “You’re in Selection.”

  “Selection?” She scoffed, trying to ignore the worry growing inside her, and paced away from her cousin. “I’m no more ready to marry and have children than a two-year-old.”

  “Really?” His voice deepened, and she felt real fear. Like a true predator, Keilor stalked her. When she moved one way, he countered another and edged her closer to the corner away from the only exits. “Then why is it I can sense your readiness?” He closed his eyes and breathed deep. “I can almost taste your need. Your hormones are bursting with flavor, Rowe. With temptation.”

  She stared, mortified he might be right, especially when he stepped so close his chest brushed hers. To her horror, her nipples swelled. Yet the drive to procreate didn’t override her disgust. Physically she responded, but her psychei didn’t reach out to him the way it had to Talson.

  “You’re crazy.” Please, psychei, don’t fail me now. A familiar tingle of power surged through her mind, and she wanted to sob with relief.

  “Crazy?”

  “You should step back, Keilor.” She kept her cool and smiled, a gentle mental push swaying Keilor enough that he stepped back. “It’s too hot down here to stand so close. I have to get back upstairs.”

  He shook his head and his lapse gave her enough time to walk purposefully around him toward the elevator.

  He grabbed her arm and yanked her back. “Not yet, sweetheart.” Funny how the false endearment on his lips made her ill, but Val’s had made her wet. “I’ve been waiting a long time to have you use it on me, Rowe.”

  Her heart thundered. “What are you talking about?” Let me go. Let me go.

  “I’m ready for you now. For years I’ve wondered just what it would take to get you to use your psychei on me. It’s incredibly seductive.”

  He pulled her flush against him and ground his cock into her lower back. “Keeping your talent secret was smart. Works better on the unsuspecting, hmm? But I know. I’ve always known.”

  She couldn’t escape, and her struggle seemed to excite him. “You’re mistaken. I’m half-human. I don’t have any psychei.”

  She tried to elbow him, to pull out of his hold, but he only gripped her tighter and squeezed her so hard she had trouble breathing. Suddenly dizzy, she sagged in his arms, aware he’d amped up his psychei to make her dwell on her terror. The prick.

  “I overheard your parents talking about you when you were younger.” He thrust against her ass with an enthusiasm she couldn’t ignore. “That’s it. You feel good, Rowe. Real good.”

  Nausea overwhelmed her.

  He continued, his voice caressing, soft, while he held her with crushing strength. “Even humans have a limited psychic ability. Obviously your Otra father had it, but it seems your human mother had a touch of it as well. It’s a miracle really. Despite your inferior genetic structure, you’re remarkably attractive both psychically and physically. Traits that should serve us well in our coming years together.”

  He reached around her to the front of her slacks and hovered over the button holding them closed, increasing her dread. “Oh, that’s good,” he rasped and shivered, no doubt awash in her emotions.

  She tried to decide how the hell to disentangle herself from the crazy bastard. Another slight shift of her hips proved his strength immovable. She couldn’t budge from her position against him.

  Any attempt at freedom would have to come by outwitting him.

  “Very clever, cousin.” She relaxed and startled him into loosening his hold. Then she turned around with a smile on her face. Placing her palms against his chest, she felt his heart pounding and decided to use his arousal to her advantage. “You can sense my Selection, hmm? Finally, a man who passed the test.”

  “Test?” His husky voice made her want to cringe. Keilor wanted her. Even if she hadn’t been raised to consider him family, she wouldn’t have wanted him. The dickhead thought it was okay to use force to get what he wanted.

  Not surprisingly, her thoughts went to Val. Though he’d tied her up, she’d never felt unsafe that he might hurt her, only that he’d sense how much she wanted him and seduce the truth out of her.

  Not wanting to alarm Keilor, she stroked his chest and used her anger to camouflage her fear. “I may be half-human, but I’m all woman. I know what I want in a mate. I want a strong, dominant lover. One who can’t be tricked or denied out of what he desires.”

  She leaned close and nipped at his bottom lip. His eyes practically exploded with light. So intent on claiming her, Keilor failed to note the change in her stance.

  Chapter Three

  When her knee connected with his balls, Keilor’s eyes grew comically large. His almost silent mew of distress pleased her to no end.

  “How many times do you have to hear no before you leave me alone? Go pick up a woman that wants you, you sorry ass.” She turned and ran to the stairwell, not daring to wait for the elevator.

  She screamed when she ran into a hard body.

  “Whoa, easy there.” Quinn held her steady. “Rowe?” A glance over her shoulder had his mouth tightening with displeasure. He tugged her behind him. “Why don’t you wait for me upstairs in the security center?”

  “No, Quinn. I need to leave now. And I want you with me.” Not only for protection from Keilor, but from a pissed-off Talson as well. No telling where the Otra is hiding in wait for me. She wouldn’t tell Quinn that. She had no intention of letting Quinn know about Val yet, not when her friend wanted Keilor’s blood. She could only imagine Quinn’s reaction if she told him Val had only weeks ago captured her and tied her to a bed. He’d kill him, and for some strange reason, the thought of Val in harm’s way bothered the hell out of her.

  Probably because she wanted to be the one to take him down. Thoughts of taking him down, of tying him up again and fucking him until neither of them could walk stole every thought from her mind.

  Quinn opened his mouth to protest and froze. He blinked, shook his head, a
nd rasped, “Shit. You’re right. Let’s go.”

  Dragging her up the stairs at a speed that stole her breath, he hauled her through the main doors of Chartrell Headquarters to his personal conveyance, a nondescript two-door hovercraft. They sped away as he overrode the automatic settings and held the steering column with a white-knuckled grip. His expression could best be called grim, and he refused to look at her while he drove.

  She felt terrible. “I’m so sorry, Quinn. This is going to put you in a bad position with Keilor and I—”

  “Not one word. Not one fucking word.”

  Stunned, she blinked at the stranger sitting next to her. The quiet, controlled Quinn Larsen had vanished, replaced by a dark, compelling man with a face and body to die for. Suddenly, she saw in him what all his other lovers had seen, and her body responded in kind.

  “Hell, not now,” he groaned, clutching the column so tight she thought he might break it. “Focus, Rowe. Think about Keilor. Think about your uncle. Think about my mother. That ought to kill any emotion related to sex.”

  She chuckled, her mind all over the place. But her tension eased at thoughts of Breanne Larsen ‘Or Ryi. The woman was an absolute shrew. How she had produced two loving children remained a mystery. Focused on the haughty woman, she forced back her natural inclination to sexually assault Quinn.

  Oh hell, had she entered Selection?

  Her home came into view, and her mind again jumped to another emotion. Relief, because home was hers. A safe and cozy place to nest…and to fuck the suitable male at her side. She hungered. Even though Quinn wasn’t Val, he had that something she needed. With his help, she’d be able to reproduce, to perpetuate the species and fulfill her body’s most basic needs.

  “Quinn,” she whispered, holding herself tight so she wouldn’t reach out and grab him. He smelled so damn good. “I can’t think.”

  He jerked the craft to a halt in front of her building. “Pack a bag of whatever will keep you for a few weeks. I need to stash you someplace safe while I deal with Keilor.” He rushed from the hovercraft, rounded to her side and jerked her out of the vehicle. He tossed her over his shoulder and carried her as if she weighed nothing. Once in front of her apartment, he set her down and pulled a phaser out of one of his many cargo pockets. “Unlock it and wait here. Don’t move.”

  She used her thumb on the keypad and waited while he entered and scoped out her place. The sexual need vanished as quickly as it had come. Thank God.

  To his credit, Quinn returned a minute later. Once she entered, he closed the door shut behind her and waited for the automatic lock to click, then stood as far from her as possible before she left the room to pack a bag.

  She returned, carrying it. “I’m so sorry, Quinn. I don’t know what’s going on with me, but I think we’re okay now. I’ve never been in Selection before, but I know they say it’s hard for males to handle. I’m not a hundred percent Otra, so I don’t know what effect—”

  One look at Quinn turned her thoughts to mush, and once again her body demanded satisfaction.

  A strange, almost swimming sensation pushed her into his stiff arms. Her body felt foreign, not her own, and prickled with need. Quinn was part of what she needed, not the whole. But she’d start with him. Right now. Except she couldn’t reach his mouth for the kiss she desperately needed.

  When he refused to bend, she slid her hands under the hem of his skin-tight security shirt. A glance down his body showed him rock hard and huge. She couldn’t wait to try him on.

  He groaned and started to shake. “Dammit, Rowe. I’m trying—”

  She cut off his protest with a pinch to his nipple, and like a switch that had been thrown, Quinn immediately responded.

  “Fuck,” he snarled and kissed the breath out of her.

  As tall as Keilor and broader across the chest, Quinn packed a wallop as his tongue seized control of her mouth. He ripped her blouse down the front and pulled down her bra, exposing her flushed breasts. Then he took one nipple in his hot mouth.

  “Quinn.” She groaned and thrust her hands into his short, thick black hair. Stars, what was happening to her? As he caressed and stimulated her into a mindless ball of pleasure, crazy thoughts swirled in her mind. Images of Val and Quinn taking her together—two men, one woman, unending pleasure. But through it all, Val remained first and foremost in her desire.

  Quinn redirected his attention to her other breast, kneading and preparing it for his mouth. She squirmed, wanting him between her thighs. He had to come, to prepare her womb so Val could— “Quinn, yes. Oh yes.” Everything blurred, and she found herself naked. His fingers sought the wet heat of her, his thick digits thrusting in and out with greater speed.

  “You’re so fucking wet.” His voice harsh and thick with hunger, he sounded feral as he finger-fucked her toward climax. “I want you so much, Rowe. I can’t think. I can’t breathe without inhaling your sweet scent. But it’s not… You’re not meant to be mine. I shouldn’t be able to do this, but I feel…”

  His thumb found her clit and he circled the hard nub until she wanted to scream. The hunger grew and grew—and suddenly vanished.

  “Not yet,” she cried.

  One minute Quinn clutched her in his arms, his mouth on her breast, his hand between her folds. The next, he simply disappeared. Then another man was there. His mouth on hers, his fingers inside her. She tried to see him, to understand the awful emptiness that had just moments before yawned closed. Instead she came hard, the rapture obliterating all else as her vision grayed.

  “Oh, no. You’re mine, sweetheart. All mine,” a familiar voice promised before she finally passed out.

  * * * * *

  After tying her up and placing her in her bedroom in the middle of her bed, Val rejoined his brother in her living room. He couldn’t believe he’d brought Rowe to climax in front of Romy. But when he’d seen the male—Quinn—touching her, tasting what was his, he’d lost control.

  Shoving Quinn aside had been his only thought. Then Romy had incapacitated the big fucker while Val kissed Rowe again.

  He shifted on his feet, his cock aching, his senses swimming with the scent of his iriu. And surprisingly, the fragrant perfume of the male lying so still on the floor. He had a bad, bad feeling about his fixation on Quinn Larsen ‘Or Ryi.

  “Please, Romy. Tell me that man isn’t my eda. Tell me it’s you, instead.”

  Val stared at his younger brother, pleading to hear what he knew his brother couldn’t say. Bad enough Val had to mate a woman he didn’t trust, one who’d actually bested him in their last skirmish. He didn’t know her and couldn’t stand her uncle yet could feel in his bones she belonged to him. Her damn Selection made it impossible for him to walk away. To make matters worse, according to Romy, he’d entered The Testing as well.

  Fuck a duck sideways. He was screwed.

  Now it appeared he had to accept a strange male as his eda—a psychically chosen male to help complete the bonding ritual. Edas and irius were destined, mates and friends who would last a lifetime. It was all about harmonized energy. And now it looked like Val had not only Rowe, but another Chartrell associate to deal with. He could almost hear his mated brothers laughing at him, especially given all the crap he’d handed Roarke and Z when they’d joined their females.

  “I wish I could say I’m your man, but I’m not, and you know it.” Romy shook his head, humor curling his lips at the completely unfunny situation in which Val found himself. “You saw his tongue down her throat and his hands in her—well, in her. She’s in Selection, you’re in The Testing, and still you didn’t kill him. You know she’s yours, and he’s a part of it. I don’t have to be precognitive to know that those two are part of your future. Hell, their psycheis are already bonded. Feel it.”

  Val swore and paced, intentionally lending to the heavy discomfort of his erection. Physical pain to add to his emotional stress. He couldn’t stop thinking about Rowe. How captivating she’d looked naked. So small yet rounded in all the
right places. Those breasts…

  A glance at Romy caused him to scowl.

  Despite being Otra, from a culture that cherished sex in all its forms—with multiple partners of either gender—and whose ability to procreate necessitated two males to impregnate the female, Val couldn’t help the raging jealousy heating his blood. Jealousy because Romy stood too close to the male by Val’s feet, and because his brother had seen Rowe as well.

  He thrust a hand through his hair. “Damn Testing.”

  Romy snickered, and it took Val’s considerable restraint not to belt his younger brother in the mouth. None of this felt familiar, even though Val had performed as Z’s eda only a few months ago. There had been a flash or two of jealousy on Z’s part, but that was after they had started the joining. After Val had washed Adri’s womb with his cum and his psychic energy so that she might grow fertile for his brother.

  A loving, emotional bonding experience.

  He’d expected that someday he might have the same. He hadn’t anticipated he’d find his mate so soon, that she’d be his enemy, or that the male to help him settle her would be a complete stranger. One with huge-ass muscles that had an odd effect on Val’s cock.

  “What the fuck?” He growled and continued to pace, wishing like hell he wasn’t so hungry. He throbbed, needing release. Yet both the woman and the man he’d yanked off her were now unconscious. He’d felt her bliss and her psychei entwining with his own even while Quinn had touched her. She’d merged with Val on the psychic level two weeks ago.

  Two long, sexually frustrating fucking weeks ago.