by Cynthia Sax
Keisha didn’t know how long she had been away, but it must have been too long, the other dimension clinging to her, calling her. She ignored that plea, focusing on the man riding her body.
She bucked against Pierce, adding the contact between her back and his chest. He smacked her ass, the way Goblum had slapped his females’ asses, and that excited Keisha, her pussy vibrating with building pleasure. She imagined that she was part of the line-up, allotted only a few strokes of Pierce’s cock before he moved onto the next woman. She would find satisfaction with those strokes. She would, she was so close.
Pierce grunted with the exertion, his balls smacking against her skin, his hands covering her shoulders, holding her still, restricting her movements. That restraint pushed Keisha over the edge. She screamed his name, her pussy clutching his cock until he roared, squirting his hot cum into her.
“Fuck, Keisha.” Pierce collapsed on top of her perspiration-slicked body. “That was close.”
“Too close,” a deep voice agreed. Keisha had forgotten about Thorne. He’d seen her naked, and he’d watched them fuck like the creatures he hunted, yet when she looked at him, he winked, his expression unconcerned and careless. “That bastard didn’t cross over with her, though.” He sounded disappointed. “Maybe next time.” He juggled his gun.
Fear skittered her hazy fulfillment. “No next time,” Keisha refused. She’d almost lost herself with this crossover.
“No next time,” Pierce agreed, hugging her close to him. His heart beat wildly against her shoulder. “We’ll find some other way.” He kissed the sensitive flesh behind her ear.
Chapter Three
Pierce sprawled on the bed, his mist resting heavily over his naked woman. He knew she wanted, needed that connection, that weight, and he happily indulged her, his concerns eased slightly by her warmth. He drifted his fingertips over her sleeping face. He’d come close to losing her last night. When he arrived at the warehouse, she’d been a ghostly apparition, a paler shade of her sexy self.
She hadn’t let Thorne touch her. Pierce smiled. She hadn’t wanted a connection with anyone but him. She knew, even desperate and trapped in the other dimension, that he was the only man for her.
Her eyelashes fluttered on her dark cheeks. She was waking. He leaned over her and brushed her full lips with his. She gasped, inhaling part of his mist, and opened her brown eyes. “Good morning.” She stretched, her supple form undulating.
“It will be.” Pierce wrapped his mist around her wrists and ankles, pulled them tight, and pinned them to the mattress.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes widened, and her nipples tightened. He grinned. He’d noticed that she liked being restrained, being fastened in place, as though it kept her securely in this dimension.
“I’m having breakfast.” Pierce bent his head, then trailed kisses over her forehead, her eyelids, her cheekbones, slowly, leisurely outlining her lips before dropping to her determined chin. “Delicious.” He would savor her, treasure her, the way her beauty warranted. He followed a pulsing vein down her neck. “Like a cup of rich, hot coffee.”
“Hhhhmmm… I do like coffee.” Her voice was husky with passion.
“An Americano Misto?” Pierce licked a breast, sucking one pert nipple into his mouth. She was sinfully soft, and so very responsive, her stomach quivering under his palm as he suckled.
“It was a slip of the tongue. All I could think of was your mist.” She pushed her hips up, rubbing her body against his. He was hard -- he’d been hard all morning -- but he first needed to taste her, all over, reassuring himself that she was healthy and whole.
“And all I could think of was you.” He nipped Keisha gently, and she squeaked. His obsession must have been obvious, as Jessie, Café Midnight’s owner, had instructed the barista to give him Keisha’s beverage.
“I longed to do this then.” He mouthed over Keisha’s trembling stomach, swirling his tongue around the rim of her bellybutton, pausing above neat black curls. They were cropped as ruthlessly close as those on her head, exposing the dark flesh underneath. “My mist --”
“Your mist did do this.” Her chuckle was deep and sexy. He swept over her pussy lips with his tongue, and she jerked against her restraints, her lips parted. “Ohhh…” She moved under him. “Maybe not this.”
He grinned. “No, not this.” He lowered on top of her, burying his mouth into her pussy, licking and sucking and slurping up her fresh cream. She tasted like a mixture of both dimensions, pure and carnal, human and otherworldly, and he wouldn’t waste a drop.
He peeled back her layers, sliding his tongue between her folds, cleaning her thoroughly, and her breathing turned ragged, her body twisting under his, exciting his mist, his animal side. As he feasted upon her pussy, pulsing into her wet hole, his mist stroked her breasts, tweaked her nipples, slapped her thighs.
Her control was as stretched as her body. She cried out his name in urgent little pants, her fingers raking the bed sheets, her toes curling. Pierce was so hard he was in pain, but he needed to push her over the edge before reaching for his own satisfaction. He pushed the skin back from her clit, her throbbing pleasure point, and Keisha stilled, watching him, her eyes large, her body vibrating like a string pulled tight.
He grinned at her. “No, not this.” Pierce held her gaze as he extended his tongue. One brush on her clit was all it took. She snapped, flying upward, screaming, and he quickly thrust his tongue into her pussy, feeling the strength of her orgasm, her walls pulsating around him.
“Pierce, Pierce, Pierce.” His name was slurred with happiness. Released from her mist restraints, Keisha drew him upward, holding his head tightly to her soft chest. Pierce waited for her breathing to level, his hard cock nestled between her thighs. Once she was recovered, he’d raise her passions once more, experiencing her orgasm around his shaft.
There was a loud bang as the front door to his one-bedroom apartment slammed shut, and Pierce froze, his muscles bunching, ready to protect Keisha. “Good morning, lovebirds. I brought coffee,” Thorne hollered. “And doughnuts.”
“Fuck.” Pierce scrambled out of bed. “Give us a second,” he yelled back, yanking a pair of dress pants over his rock-hard erection. “I’ll go hold him off,” he told Keisha.
His friend had a lack of concern for personal space, and would have no problem joining the two of them in bed. That wasn’t going to happen, not if Pierce could help it. Thorne might have seen them bare-assed fucking last night, but that didn’t mean he wanted the big man touching Keisha.
Pierce pulled a fresh white dress shirt on and trudged out of the bedroom, his bare feet slapping on the cool tiled floor. Thorne was spread out on the leather couch, a disposable coffee cup in one hand and a Boston cream doughnut in the other. The submachine gun lay across his lap. “What are you doing here?” Pierce demanded.
“You said ‘see you tomorrow.’ It is tomorrow.” Thorne shrugged and popped the entire doughnut in his mouth. He chewed and then swigged the coffee. “And you need me to watch Miss Keisha when she crosses back over.”
“She’s not crossing back over.” Pierce reached for a coffee, both cups marked black, and sank into the armchair across from Thorne. His “see you tomorrow” had been a flippant comment, not a set of instructions.
Blond eyebrows lowered, signaling disapproval of Pierce’s decision. Pierce didn’t care. He wouldn’t put Keisha at risk again.
“So what is the alternate plan?” Thorne picked an apple fritter out of the doughnut box.
The alternate plan was the original plan, the one he had formulated before meeting Keisha. “I cross over. I take a goblet from Globum’s precious treasure hoard, ensuring he sees me, and I come back. He follows, using the dagger to slice through the dimensional barrier. You’ll be waiting for him and kill him with that big gun you keep waving around. We take the dagger and destroy it.”
“How will we know when he crosses over?” Thorne addressed the hole in his plan.
“When he attacks me.” Pierce
tried to act casual. A goblin like Globum could kill a human in seconds. His mist might protect him, or it might not. He could die. He sipped his coffee, tasting the full-bodied roast and Keisha. Sacrificing his life to keep the world safe was much easier to contemplate when he had nothing to live for. Keisha had changed that. “You’ll have to stick close to me.”
Thorne stared into the doughnut box. “You sure about this? If Miss Keisha --”
“I won’t risk Keisha, and yeah, I’m sure.” Pierce straightened his shoulders. Stopping Globum was dangerous, but it had to be done, and he was the only one in the world who could do it.
Two more doughnuts disappeared into Thorne’s mouth before he nodded. “It’ll work. The likelihood of you living is low, but it will work. When?”
“Soon. I have to settle some things first.” He had amassed a fortune, straddling the two worlds. He’d transfer that fortune to Keisha, hoping the cash would provide her some comfort if he died.
* * *
Keisha didn’t relish seeing Pierce’s friend. He had seen her naked, but worse than that, he’d seen her lose her grasp on their dimension. She was weak, and she’d failed. He had witnessed that failure.
So she took her time getting ready. She showered, fixed her hair, applied her makeup, and found one of Pierce’s crisp white shirts to wear over her dusty pants. The front door had opened and closed before she peeked out of the bedroom, hoping to see an empty apartment, but instead Thorne’s blue-eyed gaze met hers, and she was forced to reluctantly move into the living room. “Morning,” she mumbled.
“Good morning, Miss Keisha.” Thorne stood, the top of his head just barely clearing the ceiling. “I brought coffee, though I expect yours is cold now. I apologize. I could --” He gestured to the front door.
“No, no, I’m fine. Sit down.” She perched on the edge of the armchair and peered into the doughnut box. Icing drips caked the cardboard.
“No doughnuts either, sorry. I didn’t buy enough.” Thorne slumped down on the couch, his tanned face red.
“I shouldn’t eat doughnuts anyway.” Keisha patted her stomach, smothering her envy of the male metabolism. The box had a giant twelve written across it, which meant, between the two of them, the men had demolished twelve doughnuts. “Did Pierce go out?” she asked, although the answer was obvious. She didn’t want to talk about last night, and she didn’t know what else to say to Pierce’s friend.
“Yes, Ma’am… Miss Keisha,” Thorne corrected himself. “Pierce, he’s taking care of things. He’s a good man, Miss Keisha. He wouldn’t have suggested you cross over if he had known. Last night --”
“Last night was unusual.” Her face heated. She wasn’t normally so helpless. The allure of the other dimension had been growing stronger, and her resistance weaker.
Blue eyes narrowed. “It isn’t always like that?”
“It is never like that.” Keisha tilted her chin up. “I stayed too long. Next time --”
“Pierce says there won’t be a next time, though I suspect after we kill Globum, he might change his mind, but then I don’t figure Pierce will be around --”
“What!” Keisha bounced off the armchair’s leather seat cushion. Thorne didn’t figure Pierce would be around? “What exactly does he plan to do?” There was silence, Thorne’s forehead wrinkling with thought. “Thorne…”
“He’s using himself as bait, Miss Keisha. He won’t risk you crossing over again. He plans to draw Globum to this side, but it’s risky because goblins are --”
“Fast and vicious and bloodthirsty,” Keisha completed, pacing back and forth, a future without Pierce stretching out in front of her. She couldn’t do it. She would truly go mad, and there’d be no one to save her. “He’s crazy, absolutely nuts.” She threw her hands up. “He’s going to get himself killed. We have to stop him.”
“He’s determined.” Thorne shook his head. “He says this is the only way.”
“But it isn’t the only way.” Keisha stopped, her stocking feet skidding on the tiled floor. “I’ll cross over.”
“He’ll stop you,” Thorne warned.
“He won’t know.” She was petrified, but she wouldn’t lose Pierce now that she had finally found him. “I need you to drive me to the warehouse, Thorne, and bring your big gun.”
Chapter Four
An hour later, they stood in the deserted warehouse. Pierce had called, and Keisha had told him they were going out to run errands. She didn’t tell him that one errand was finding a dagger hidden in a goblin’s home.
“If I don’t come back --” Keisha stared across the warehouse at a broken window, focusing on the sun reflecting off the jagged pieces of glass rather than the emotions tugging at her insides. “-- tell Pierce I love him.” She had never said the words, and she regretted it now.
“You won’t stay long, Miss Keisha, short trips back and forth,” Thorne advised, his gun slung over one broad shoulder.
She allowed the pull of the other dimension to draw her in. The force was stronger than she had ever felt before, determined to keep her. “I don’t control when I return, Thorne.” She was like a piece of metal caught between two magnets, the stronger magnet winning.
Thorne’s roar of horror faded, as did the walls of the warehouse. There was darkness and then unbearable brightness. She blinked, aiding her eyes’ adjustment to the clashing primary colors of the goblin’s home.
Globum was easy to locate. She moved through the castle, following the scared glances of his servants, their heads turned in the direction of their harsh master. Keisha regretted her drive-thru egg sandwich breakfast, her stomach tumbling as his stench grew stronger.
She found the goblin standing in front of a henchman, who was wielding a whip. His victim wore the uniform of Globum’s cleaning staff, the fabric torn off her wide, humped back, her pink skin bloody with welts. The female whimpered with each snap of the whip.
“No one enters that room, no one.” Globum shook with fury, his sharp teeth bared. “Whip her until she loses consciousness, then whip her some more. Don’t kill her. I need my bed chamber cleaned.”
After imparting those instructions, the goblin turned and stomped away, muttering. Knowing there was nothing she could do for the maid, Keisha followed him as he moved along a lengthy corridor. He paused at a closed door, looking fervently around him as though afraid someone was watching him before withdrawing a skeleton key from up his sleeve and unlocking the door. Keisha pressed her body close to the goblin’s cold, clammy form and slipped into the room with him.
She blinked at the brightness of the room, light from small barred windows reflecting off the gold and gems heaped from floor to ceiling. This was his treasure chamber, and it was here that she would find the object. Keisha closed her eyes, trying to picture the object she needed. Silver, sharp… a dagger.
With that image secure in her mind, she watched over the goblin’s bony shoulder as he inventoried his loot, moving crowns, goblets, necklaces, and gemstones the size of her fist from one pile of treasure to another. He tossed aside a dagger that was similar to what she needed but wasn’t exactly right. He cackled with joy at seeing a ring with a severed finger still attached. He admired his reflection in a golden shield.
The hoarded treasure was endless, and Keisha was wondering how she would ever find a small dagger in the immense pile, when Globum slid a small chest across the stone floor. “My pretty.” He took velvet fabric out of the chest, unfolding it to reveal a dagger, the dagger. Keisha’s body stiffened with excitement. She had found it. She grabbed the hilt, eager to snatch the dagger from the goblin, but she couldn’t lift its slight weight.
She couldn’t move the dagger, yet she had to have it. How? Call for me. A memory stirred, soft and faint. I’ll come get you. “Help!” she yelled, her words making no sound. “Help!” She didn’t know who would help her, but someone would, she was sure of it.
Minutes passed with no help coming, and Keisha began to doubt herself. She continued to call, despair
ing that she would receive an answer. Globum completed his perusal of his treasure room, appearing satisfied, and moved to the door. Keisha wavered, torn between staying and leaving. She couldn’t open a closed door. If she didn’t follow Globum, she would be trapped in the room until he next visited it. But -- she looked at the chest -- she had to stay with the dagger. The dagger was important. “Help!” she tried once more.
A mist swept under the door, around Globum’s feet. Keisha recognized the mist. She loved the mist, and the mist would help her. “It’s in there.” She pointed to the chest.
Ghostly fingers flipped the lid open, lifting the velvet. Relief flooded Keisha’s heart. He could touch the dagger. He would secure it for her.
“What the…” Globum turned. “Not you!” He ran toward the chest, but he was too late -- the mist and the dagger were gone.
He had left her. Keisha stared at where the mist had evaporated. He had left her alone in this world -- but no, that wasn’t right. He wouldn’t leave her. Hope kindled inside her. He loved her. He would come back.
She watched, uncaringly, as Globum stormed around the room, raging to the world about the theft of his dagger, his pretty. When the goblin finally left, slamming the door shut after him, roaring down the corridor for his guards, Keisha stayed in the room.
The mist would come back for her, she knew he would, and when he did, he’d look in the last place he saw her. She would wait for him.
The double suns slowly lowered, shadows falling across the stone. Keisha stayed in the fading light. Someone had to see her. She didn’t know who that someone was, and she didn’t know why, but it was important.
* * *
“I have to get her,” Pierce yelled at Thorne. If anything happened to her, he’d send the big man to the other dimension in itty-bitty pieces.
Thorne studied his watch. “Give it a few more minutes.”
“A few more minutes? Look at her.” Pierce waved his hand at Keisha’s transparent form. She was fading from view, her beautiful face displaying a heartbreaking resignation. “There won’t be enough of her to save if I wait much longer.”