After setting the kits to bed, the second problem became apparent.
Merit was never home. He arrived late and left early. A massive project gobbled up his attention. Some days she never saw him, and the rumpled sheets on his side of the bed were the only clue that he had been there. He never left a note or sent her a message. Honestly, they communicated more when she had been traveling on a starship than they did now that they shared a bed.
Not that anything ever happened in that bed. Her husband would actually have to spend more than five minutes with her for that. And if he was?
She ached with longing, her body and heart ready for more.
She grabbed her communicator and sent off a message: When are you coming home?
Minutes ticked by and Kal stifled a yawn. She had given up hope of a response when the device chirped. Do not wait up for me, he wrote.
No answer and a command. Kal rolled her eyes. A moment before she had been ready to fall asleep. Now she was determined to stay awake and wait.
You need to rest. Did you even get any sleep today? Come home.
I caught half an hour in the barracks, he replied.
Half an hour. Not good enough. It was one thing for him to neglect her for the Watchtower. She didn’t like it but she’d tough it out, but he also neglected Dare and Clarity. They needed their uncle and needed to know they were loved. Children didn’t always understand abstract concepts like ensuring the safety of the community at large. They understood that he missed every dinner that week and didn’t read them a bedtime story. On top of that, he neglected his own needs. The man ran himself ragged, never resting or giving his body a chance to refuel.
Don’t you ever get a day off, she wrote.
While she waited for his reply, she washed her face, brushed her teeth and prepared for sleep. She slipped into the oversized shirt and wondered what would happen if she slept in the nude. When Merit eventually came home, would he even notice? Would he recognize it as a sign that she craved his touch? Would he wake her up with soft kisses and desire rumbling in his chest?
No, bad idea. Clarity would have a nightmare and crawl into bed in the middle of the night, that’s what would happen. If she planned to send Merit a sign, it had to be bold and grab his attention.
A reply waited when she finished.
No.
Kal frowned. The first few weeks had been grand, but after that, he spent an increasing amount of time at the Watchtower. Ever since that night Amity announced she was leaving and Kal overheard their conversation, he had been avoiding her. At least it felt that way. The Watchtower demanded all of his attention, he claimed. Sick of being ignored, she didn’t like the feeling that this would be the status quo, married to an absentee husband who wanted a live-in nanny more than a wife. She adored the kids, she did, but she didn’t travel three months to be an unpaid babysitter.
Was she being a brat, jealous that Merit failed to give her his undivided attention? No. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him in three days. The kits hadn’t seen him in a week.
This had to stop.
She made Coronation Chicken, for crying out loud, and she only craved that when she felt depressed or alone.
She couldn’t keep making the best out of the situation. She needed to make a change and she couldn’t do it alone. She needed Merit in this. She needed him to meet her halfway.
Her eyes drifted to the wooden box containing the King’s Table set. Giddy at her idea, she dug out her makeup bag and applied her favorite deep red shade. Using a white piece, she pressed it against pouting lips and took a photo with her communicator. She experimented with the angle of the game token and opened her mouth slightly, exposing just a bit of tongue. Finally satisfied that the image was sufficiently naughty, she sent it to Merit.
Can I interest you in a game? she wrote.
The reply was instant. Kitten, what are you doing?
Come home and find out.
She sent another photo, this one of the game board on the bed, red and white tokens ready for play. Her bare thigh graced half the image, letting him know exactly where the board sat at that moment.
The communicator rang. Suddenly she rated important enough for him to call, rather than fire off a text message.
“Red or white?” she purred into the device.
“What?”
“The color panties you’re going to rip off me tonight—would you like red or white?”
“Don’t move,” he growled, voice thick with desire.
Kal chuckled, tossing the communicator to the side. She leaned back on her elbows, thighs splayed on the bed with the board between.
She waited.
Merit
Red or white.
None, if Merit had his choice. He’d find his mate spread on the bed, ready and eager for him, and he’d dive in face first, devouring every last drop from her delicious cunt. He’d lick and suck that odd external clit that human females had, and he’d make her come all over his face. Then, before her body had a chance to recover from her climax, he’d drive his cock into her. She’d mewl so sweetly, accepting every inch of him. He’d flip her over and push her down to her belly. His teeth would grip the back of her neck as he pounded into her and she would know that she belonged to him. No one would ever doubt it and suggest that she’d be happier returning to Earth. That’s he’d be better off without her. And no uppity males would clamor around her like adolescents, desperate for her attention.
Merit growled, his top lip curling back to display his fangs.
Shit, that was the bloodlust talking. He wanted to do all those things, but if he didn’t get a grip, he’d injure Kal. He’d rather die than let that happen. She carried his heart.
Merit left the Watchtower without pausing to issue commands. The other Hunters stood back and let him leave. The hour was late, and the males knew their duty. Whether they suspected Merit left in a hurry to pounce on his mate or not, he did not know. He knew they would tease and joyfully tug on his ears in the morning, regardless of what happened between him and Kal.
Since he’d be teased anyway, it’d be nice to have a reason for the teasing. The memories of his mate’s touch and taste would soothe him and give him the patience to not rip out Sigald’s throat.
That male was far too curious about humans. If Merit never had to listen to another anecdote about human ingenuity or resiliency, he’d be a happy male. Humans do not have the teeth of a predator, so ancient humans strengthened decaying teeth with metal and resin.
One light, his bedroom light, remained on when he arrived home.
Kal sat in bed, on top of the covers, with her electronic reader in hand. Her dark hair tumbled in waves down her back. She wore one of his old tunics. Far too large, the garment slouched down and offered a tantalizing view of her shoulder and the curve of her neck.
She set the reader down. “We need to talk.”
Whatever he thought would happen when he came into the bedroom, he was wrong. “You lured me here under false pretenses,” he said, not upset, just surprised.
She stiffened at his choice of words and for all world look like she wanted to fight. Instead, she moved to the edge of the bed, her bare legs draped over the edge. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes, I suppose so. Look, I had an entire speech prepared. Can I just get on with it? Then you can be upset about false pretenses.”
He nodded, not trusting himself with words.
“I feel like such a petulant brat for bringing it up, but we need to talk about this before it becomes the status quo. I’m not happy, Merit, and I’m not happy because you’re never here, and I suspect you’re never here because you don’t want a wife. You want a nanny and a housekeeper.”
“Is this about my sister?”
“What? No.” She tucked an unruly lock of hair behind her ear. “Maybe a little. Amity and I are getting on better, but this is more about me being a replacement for your sister than being your wife. I’m not willing to accept that as our relation
He opened his mouth to protest. Initially, he wanted little more from her than what she outlined, believing he did not need affection or attraction.
He had been wrong on so many levels. He needed her like he needed air.
He stayed away because he wanted too badly, and he couldn’t trust himself to not get swept up with the bloodlust and hurt her but staying away made him want her more. He did not see a way out of the vicious cycle.
“I care for you,” she said, breaking the silence.
“You carry my heart,” he replied without thinking. His body tensed, drawing out the moment as he waited for her to accept his devotion or to reject him. She could do better than him. Deserved better than him.
The moment passed. Kal smiled and nodded, unaware of what she carried for him. “But before we go further, and hormones get involved and making thinking difficult—”
She had no idea.
“I was alone and ignored on Earth. I don’t want to be alone and ignored here,” she said. “I came here for a marriage. For a partner. Someone I will grow to love. Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” He wanted her.
“Because it seems like you just want a nanny that you can fuck, and I’m not okay with that. I want more. I deserve more,” she said.
She rose from the bed and crossed the room to him. Physically only inches separated them but so much more lay between them. She looked up at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything. To explain his remoteness and emotional distance.
She sighed and broke the silence. “If you don’t want a real marriage, I won’t stay.”
“Don’t go,” he said.
She visibly perked at his words.
“I work too much. And I’m not good at sitting still.” He ran a hand through his hair, searching for the words to explain himself. He wanted her so much that it was a physical ache in his chest, and it hurt him to know his actions made her feel unwanted. She wanted more, not just companionship or sex, but a real relationship.
And he needed to be honest if he had any hope of keeping her.
His eyes fluttered shut as he mentally repeated the Seven Virtues. Humility, patience, kindness...
“If my hands aren’t busy,” he said, “my mind starts turning. There are some things I don’t—”
“You’re exhausted. Look at you, you’re shaking.” She ran her hands down his arms, brushing the guard hairs.
He trembled but not from exhaustion alone. “I will do better. Delegate. Be here more. You should never be alone.”
“You should sleep,” she said, dropping her hands. “We can continue this tomorrow.”
Merit closed his eyes and did a slow countdown from ten. The bloodlust demanded that he take his mate, hard, but he was the master of his will. If he took her now, the act would be over too quickly. He might be satisfied, but she would not be. He wanted to savor her, to explore her luscious form and discover all the sounds she made in pleasure. He wanted to bring her to climax again and again before finally finding his release.
He wanted all that because she was more than a vessel to be fucked. She carried his heart.
“I will do better,” he said.
“I don’t want better. I just want you here. The kits miss you, and I’d like a chance to get to know the handsome bloke I married.”
“Red or white?” he asked.
A playful glance crossed her flat face. “None,” she said.
Merit gave an exaggerated growl and lunged, hands swiping broadly. She jumped into bed, laughing as she pulled the covers over herself. He leaned over her, as if he could not see her form, the big bad monster sniffing to search for his female. It was a parody of the same bedtime games he played with the kits.
“I’m safe. I’m safe,” she repeated. “You can’t get me when I’m in bed.”
“Foolish female. You’re in my nest.” He pounced, capturing her in his arms, and rolled to the side, blankets and all. She giggled and squirmed. His cock hardened. She pressed her ass against him.
He pushed back the blanket and his hand went to her thighs. They parted slightly, just enough to let him brush his fingers against her cunt and verify that she, in fact, wore no panties. Wet and slick, his finger slid between her folds. She arched back, enjoying his touch.
He needed to know how she tasted and licked his finger clean.
Perfection.
This female tested all his control.
“Soon I’m going to devour your sweet cunt,” he promised.
“But not tonight?”
Did he detect disappointment in her voice?
“Not tonight.” He brushed her hair to one side, revealing the bare skin of her neck. Gently, he placed a kiss at the nape. “Sleep,” he said.
She sighed, content to lay in his arms. Surprisingly, he fell into an easy sleep.
***
The beeping of an alert woke him.
Chapter Nine
Kal
When Kal woke, Merit was gone.
Of course.
His communicator and work boots were gone, which meant that he was not out on an early morning run but he had, in fact, done the one thing he promised to stop doing.
She was an idiot to believe his sweet promises of delegating responsibility, spending more time at home with her and the children, and trying not leaving her alone.
She couldn’t find it in her to be mad at him for his lies. She was mad at herself for believing all his rubbish. So naïve. So gullible. So desperate for any affection that she’d believed a matchmaking service could find “her perfect match.”
Swindled, that’s had happened to her. She tried not to think about those horrible Tal stereotypes of being crooks and cheats. She didn’t believe that for one moment, not in her heart, but anger prevented her from looking too kindly on how Merit sold her on one bill of goods and delivered another. He didn’t want a wife. He wanted a live-in housekeeper, nanny, and mistress without having the decency to pay for those services.
She was done, absolutely finished with men. She’d die alone with a dozen cats. When she wanted sex, she’d find some random bloke at the pub. She’d never had trouble pulling men before. It had only been her preference for an emotional connection, not meaningless sex, but emotional connections were just more lies and pain.
In her anger, Kal showered quickly and a plan formed. Returning to Earth meant admitting defeat, but she could live with the humiliation. People pitying her for wanting love was better than loving a man who lied and ignored her. She might not be able to pick up her old life where she left off, but she didn’t like her old job anyway. She had enough resources to make do.
When she got back to Earth, she’d give Celestial Mates a piece of her mind.
Amity was leaving that day, which meant it was one of the few opportunities for Kal to do the same. If she waited for the next shuttle, Merit—the smooth-talking, sexy bastard—could change her mind. She had enough credit to buy herself a ticket. Worst-case scenario, if there were no seats available, she’d buy Amity’s ticket off her. Wasn’t that what Amity had been trying to do, after all? Make Kal so miserable she’d leave? Hell, she’d probably give Kal her ticket with a smile.
Sneaking away felt dishonest but Kal knew herself. If she waited for the heartfelt goodbyes and kisses, then Merit would lay on another round of promises. Like a fool, she’d believe him and stay. Ultimately, she’d be right back where she started.
She had to get on that shuttle today, or she’d never leave.
Yes, that’s what she’d do. She’d drop the kits off at school and hop on a shuttle.
The thought of Clarity and Dare arriving at an empty house made her frown. Even as angry as she felt toward Merit, she didn’t want the children to be alone.
Fine. She’d ask Belith to meet them after school. Belith would want to know why, of course. The thought of lying to her only friend made her stomach hurt. She’d tell her the truth, that she’d had it and intended on leaving. Belith wouldn’t be surprised, not after their talk about Merit’s neglect.
With the logistics sorted in her mind, Kal dressed quickly. She shoved a change of clothes into a bag, not wanting to bring anything with her but one change of clothes until she could purchase more. Despite only having a handful of possessions, the items had been contaminated by her time here. She didn’t want to look at anything that would remind her of Merit or her time on Corra.
She stored the bag behind the bedroom door and went downstairs to make breakfast. Opening the tin of pickled fish that the children preferred, Kal told herself it was the vinegar that made her eyes water, not sentimentality. She loved the kids, and she’d miss them dearly, but she couldn’t stay in a loveless marriage for them. Amity’s words, “Send her away before she becomes too attached,” returned to her.
Tea. The morning ritual would steady her. Plus, she didn’t want to give the children any reason to suspect that today was out of the ordinary. If they started asking questions, they’d break her resolve.
By the time she had her first cup, she had calmed down a bit. As she set out the crisp bread, soft cheese, and fruit for breakfast, footsteps thundered down the steps.
Dare raced to the table, still in his pajamas. He shoved a piece of bread in his mouth.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” Kal poured her second cup of tea.
“Storm day. School’s canceled,” he said, mouth full and crumbs flying everywhere.
Storm day? She had never heard of such a thing. “How do you know?”
“It’s on the weather report. No school when there’s a storm.”
“Seems silly to cancel school for a bit of rain.”
-->