Quicksilver Dreams (Dreamwalkers)

by Adele, Danube

  One of the books that I did recognize, which totally stuck out because it was so different from the others in content and appearance, was a softcover edition of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Wasn’t that interesting?

  Gently, I pulled the book free. It seemed an old copy. The pages were yellowed and slightly brittle. It was comforting to see something concrete that was from Earth. I couldn’t help carefully opening the book, which made something fall out of the pages and flutter to the floor. When I picked it up, I saw it was a palm-size picture of a beautiful young girl with dark hair, green eyes and an infectious smile.

  Written on the inside front cover of the book was the name Asily Rose Langston. Wasn’t Langston his last name? A cold chill skated my spine when I figured this was likely a picture of his sister, the one who’d died, whom he was memorializing in one of her books. The book took on a sense of reverence. I could imagine a girl enjoying the beautiful romantic tale and maybe doing a little daydreaming of her own future Mr. Darcy. It made me ache to think of that girl gone in so harsh and painful a way.

  Tears pricked my eyes.

  After taking an extra moment to look at her picture, imagining the fear and pain she must have gone through in her death, I put the photograph back in the pages and replaced the book without damaging it.

  The picture was a harsh reminder that this was no vacation. Asily Rose Langston had died. According to Cynthia, she’d been raped and killed in this life-and-death struggle between peoples. Today, again, I’d almost gotten killed. Gutted. As much as I thought I had nothing to do with what was going on here, somehow I seemed to have found myself in the middle of it all. And not only that, there was a feeling of rightness in it. I was serving my purpose.

  Wait. Where had that thought come from?

  Serving my purpose.

  My memory felt as if a xylophone had pinged a true note, struck a nerve connected to a forgotten file of information. It wasn’t a new thought. It rolled off my brain so easily. The feeling that there was knowledge sitting just out of reach on the edges of my memory taunted me, and the more I tried to reach for it, the more it slipped away. Damn, but I was tired of feeling frustrated.

  Not in the mood for analysis anymore, I shook it off.

  Time to dress. No more poking around. Ryder was probably wondering what happened to me, at this point, and I was wondering how things were going to be different between the two of us, or if I even wanted them to be. Being objective was hard at the moment.

  The clothing Ryder had found for me was, of course, extremely large. He’d provided me with a T-shirt and a pair of drawstring sweatpants. The sweatpants only stayed up because I cranked down on the drawstring, tightening the waist before tying a feminine bow. The T-shirt was thin and ultrasoft. It smelled like him, and I know that, because I engaged in the purely girly activity of burying my face in it and taking a deep breath. I loved the way he smelled.

  When I put the shirt on, it was a bit like a dress, so I loosely tied the bottom in a knot at my waist. It exposed some of my midriff, and I wondered if Ryder would find me sexy like this.

  But if he did, what then? I felt an attack of nerves coming on at the thought. Flashbacks of embarrassing groping and disappointing conclusions popped up from experiences with my college boyfriend, and I had to wonder if I was just not sexual, which didn’t feel right because all I had to do was picture Ryder to get all hot and bothered. Hmm. Confusing.

  My inner sex kitten batted her lashes and told me not to think about it so much, and given that I didn’t know how to think about all the sudden changes in my life, I decided to relax and see what happened. No way was I going to figure it all out now. I had to admit to feeling excited, though.

  I wasn’t sure what the three-ring circus would have in store for me when I walked into the main rec room again, but I didn’t have long to wait. As I came down the hall, I heard a whispered, angry conversation between Nick and Cynthia in progress. It halted as soon as I made some loud, obvious noises, which consisted of me doing a bit of throat-clearing and scuffling my feet, coming down the hallway.

  There was dead silence by the time I rounded the corner.

  “You’re up!” Cynthia was the first to recover, and she plastered a cheerful look to her face. She swooped over, giving me a big hug, and started talking really quickly. “I knew you’d be okay. You’re too tough to stay down long. The medical team couldn’t find anything wrong with you, and of course I told them all that you have been under a whole lot of stress these days. In any case, you’re the big hero! Saved the day!”

  “Well, we both did.” I pulled away, wishing I could find out what was going on with her. Nick was suddenly busy on an electronic gadget that he’d pulled out of his pocket, a heavy, dark look weighing him down.

  Cynthia rattled on. “Hey, I stored some food in the fridge, so you guys don’t have to think about dinner. I’d stay, but you know, I have to check in with my mom. She’ll flip out on me if she finds out I’ve been back on Te’re and didn’t check in. I’ll come back tomorrow, ’kay? We’ll hang out some more, but no more trips to the mall. I think we need a vacay after what happened today.” Cynthia backed off toward the archway across the room with an overly bright smile, using stylized language that she didn’t usually and clearly trying to make an escape.

  I didn’t question it. “Okay,” I replied. Who was I to judge? When you needed to go, you needed to go. Nick wasn’t having it, though.

  “I’ll walk you out,” he said firmly, putting his device in his pocket and clasping one of her elbows before she got too far away from him. I could see that her first reaction was going to be to yank herself away, but she didn’t want to make a scene. Her eyes became chips of ice.

  “Well isn’t that nice of you,” she said coldly, and she walked out with him, which left a bit of a vacuum.

  Alone and unsure of what I was supposed to do, I decided to look for Ryder. I took a quick walk across the rec room through the archway and saw the library with the stacks and stacks of books in bookshelves. He wasn’t there. The beautiful blanket still was. With a feeling of dismay at the careless way I’d left such a treasure, I quickly refolded it, and I felt that odd buzzing sensation again. Threads of energy began weaving into my skin and up through my arms.

  I dropped the blanket back onto the couch like it burned, staring at it uneasily.

  “I don’t even want to know,” I muttered to myself after a moment. There was enough newness I needed to accept without taking on more than I could handle. The feeling that there was yet something else significant, something else I couldn’t quite remember, attached to the blanket frustrated me, but I deliberately blew it off. Hadn’t I had enough drama for the day? I could always think about it later.

  I wandered back to the archway of the main rec room to find Ryder had appeared and was setting out plates in the kitchen. He’d changed into a pair of sweatpants similar to my own, leaving his muscular chest bare. Without giving away my presence, I paused to stare in a purely primal, animalistic reaction. I was in awe of the beautiful male before me. He had that amazing V-shaped body where the muscles in his stomach, arms and shoulders stood out, calling to the female animal in me.

  I want him, whispered my mind, and my body quickened, reminded of the unfinished business we’d begun in the bedroom.

  A smattering of dark hair sprinkled his broad pecs. It trailed down his washboard stomach, disappearing beneath the drawstring of his pants, where an interesting bulge made me crave exploration. I could almost feel my eyes go vixenlike.

  Sheesh. Who was I turning into?

  He sent a worried look in the direction of the bedroom, bracing his hands on his hips for a moment with a look of impatience. I loved that stance. It was so him. Then he got back to what he was doing, his muscles flexing with ease and grace as he moved. Grabbing a plate of something out of a small fridge, he t
ightened his lips and glanced toward the bedroom again. Was he worried about me?

  I cleared my throat and stepped out from the archway. Immediately, his green eyes flashed to me; there was a hint of surprise to his expression, since he wasn’t expecting me to appear on this side of the room.

  The surprise in his eyes melted into a heavy-lidded look that lingered over my body. His nostrils flared, and he swallowed. I looked down and realized that not only was the neckline of the T-shirt low, weighted by the knot I’d tied at the bottom, but my nipples were peaked and perky, and my breasts were clearly outlined by the lovingly clingy material of the old T-shirt. I felt naked under his stare.

  Heat swept my cheeks, though at the same time, my inner sex kitten purred, recognizing that he wanted me. This big, powerful man was having to check himself because he wanted to jump me. A flash of desire zeroed in at the top of my thighs, making them clench. A warm pulse point developed there.

  Ryder cleared his throat and looked away a moment, as though trying to gain some control, before looking back at me. “Where were you?” he asked softly, which was a direct contradiction to the intensity of his eyes.

  “Library. Looking for you,” I replied.

  A faint, crooked smile eased over his features, and he continued the task he was working on. My response pleased him, and I realized I wanted to please him.

  “Can I help with anything?”

  “I’ve got this covered. I made a couple of sandwiches. Nothing you haven’t tasted before, I’m sure.”

  “No brontosaurus burgers?” I smiled nervously to cover the heat that felt like it was radiating off me.

  He smirked. “Right. No brontosaurus burgers. Turkey sandwich. Chips. Soda.”

  “Sounds pretty normal.”

  “Thought you could use normal after what you’ve been through the last few days.” He looked up and our eyes clicked again, held. The power of the connection was unnerving, for both of us I think, because gruffly, he said, “Have a seat.”

  Exhaling quietly, I replied, “O-okay.”

  Sexual tension hung in the air in a way I’d never experienced before. I was finding it hard to concentrate on what I was doing. Heck, I was finding it hard to breathe normally. My breasts felt heavy and full. My inner sex kitten was trying to assert herself, and I was fighting an internal battle of morality with her as he brought food to the square dining table and sat with me.

  “Dig in.”

  The sandwiches were delicious, but the silence was unnerving. On the outside, I tried to be calm, working through a few bites of food, but on the inside, my imagination was going wild. My body hummed with energy, wondering what was going to happen next. I pictured myself running my fingers over his chest, tracing the narrowing pattern of hair toward his waistband. The thought alone had me taking a deep breath to control my uneven breathing. Energy was building through my body, gradually heating the air around me. I could practically see my fingers trembling with the rush of blood in my system as I reached to grab my cup for a drink of water.

  Was I actually ready to go there? Memories of the two times I’d tried to have sex with someone sprang forth. Feelings of awkwardness, and some pain, continued to haunt me. Of course, I hadn’t known what I was doing during those times, but then, I still didn’t, so there was a high likelihood that I was going to look foolish.

  My insecurities reared their ugly heads.

  Ryder wasn’t just some fumbling boy; he was a man, likely used to women with experience. How horrifying it would be to humiliate myself with him. Was I really woman enough?

  Hell yes!

  But I hardly know him, I argued with myself.

  You’re being a coward, and if you continue with this behavior, you can no longer claim badass status!

  I’m trying to be careful. There’s a difference.

  You’ve never felt this way before in your life. Why are you fighting it? Don’t you think it’s time to face your fears?

  He could hurt me—which was the real root of the problem, I realized.

  But what if he doesn’t? What if he’s not going to? What if he really cares about you, and you’re just dragging your feet because you’re afraid?

  But I should give us time.

  Why? So you can talk yourself out of it? You know you want this. Grow up, be a woman and put your big-girl panties on. Or a thong. He’d probably dig your ass in a thong.

  “Taste okay?”

  I looked up from my plate to find his narrowed green eyes were watching me closely. Only half of my sandwich was eaten, but I was full.

  “This was great.”

  “You aren’t eating much.” He reached across the table and gently swept his thumb across my lower lip, wiping crumbs off and lingering. My lips parted as I inhaled, feeling his touch all the way into my womb. Moist heat pulsed at the core of my sex, and I just barely stopped myself from moaning.

  “It’s been an eventful week,” I said a little breathlessly.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Turned on like nobody’s business. Like I want to climb up in your lap and devour your sexy man lips.

  I mumbled quietly, “Pretty good, actually.”

  “Good.” There was a heated, knowing look in his eyes, and I had the sudden realization he was getting a sense of my arousal. He was looking at me like I was his next meal, his pale eyes blazing into mine.

  Pinpricks of warmth were stabbing at me again, right on point where I was sitting. Even my breathing was becoming a bit trembly, catching as I exhaled. This was so new to me, it was almost embarrassing! I wiggled in my seat to try and ease the discomfort from the growing ache.

  Holy shit. What was happening to me? Who was I?

  Ryder sat back and let his eyes drop to my breasts, looking as though he could see through the shirt, but here was the kicker. His wall dropped. He suddenly let me into his mind, and his need hit me like a giant wave.

  Pure lust, like a sucker punch, overpowered me, burned over and through me, heating me from the inside as my sex throbbed, making me want to pant with the force of it. I suddenly had a mental preview of the path he wanted to take down the center of my body with his lips and tongue, and I wanted that so badly, I could almost feel it.

  Oh, my God. My lips parted silently as I took air in sharply. My nipples swelled in reaction and were so sensitized that even the T-shirt material rubbing against them felt stimulating.

  The sex kitten overpowered my sanity and dropped my guard in reaction. There were a few breadcrumbs on his abs, and I let him see I was dying to kneel between his legs and lick them off. Tracing the sculpted muscles of his abs with my tongue was consuming me, as was the idea of seeing what lay at the end of the trail of dark hair under his pants. Was he wearing anything under there, or would I have free access?

  I heard his sharp intake of air. My eyes jerked up. He was breathing shallowly and a new look of determination came over his face. A hot blush rode up to my hairline, radiating off me. In this moment, I was painfully aware that I didn’t know anything about men, flirting and what was cool and what was not. I was playing with fire, and I knew it.

  One last, very small, sane voice in my head questioned if this was a good idea and suggested giving myself space to think about whether or not I was ready for the next step in this scenario.

  “I’ll take our plates to the sink.” I quickly broke eye contact.

  Standing quickly, wholly nervous, unsure and quivery, I grabbed plates and spun around. I already knew this was going to happen between us, and I knew that I wanted it. I’d just set the plates down by the sink when I heard the deliberate scrape of his chair on the stone floor.

  Ryder’s body came up behind me; his arms caged me against the counter so his full length, large and muscular, surrounded me with luscious heat. His lips and teeth found my neck
with savage sensuality, and powerful tingling sensations chased down my spine, making me shiver. My head fell back on his shoulder helplessly in surrender, giving him permission.

  “You’re so beautiful, Taylor, so soft,” he rumbled, scooping my hair out of the way. Against my neck he said thickly, “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this, but do it fast.” His teeth bit at my soft skin, and I couldn’t stop the low moan that quivered through my lips.

  “I don’t think I’m good at this. I haven’t done this much.” I felt the need to warn him, though my hands reached up of their own accord, over my head, to dive into his thick, soft hair, keeping his lips in place.

  “Maybe I’m not either,” he replied, as he continued his assault on my neck and rasped, “Fuck, you taste so good.” Wet, suctioning kisses mixed with rough, scraping whiskers had me crying out softly. Sensation hit my groin like it was a target, and I couldn’t help bucking my hips involuntarily against him.

  “Oh, God, Ryder.”

  Flames licked at my veins, spreading like a wildfire through my body. My hands fisted in his hair in reaction. He groaned, pulling my hips firmly against his front, grinding his thick erection into my ass.

  Oh, yes. I reveled in the feel of his heat pressed against me, wanting to see it and feel it.

  “You feel so damn good,” he murmured.

  His large hands, strong and powerful, slid up my slim rib cage possessively and cupped and kneaded my breasts through the softness of the T-shirt, rolling my nipples between thumb and second finger. Instantly, a cry escaped my lips as arrows of sizzling sensation flew from my nipples to my sex, making it clench. My legs quivered from the impact.

  Ryder yanked my T-shirt above my breasts. Excited, we both watched his large, bronzed hands cup them again. The round, pale globes topped by pink pebbled nipples thrust out against his palms, demanding his attention. He rolled them between his fingers again.

  “Ah.” My cry was sharp, and I writhed, feeling like a cat in heat, unable to get enough of his touch. He could make me come like this. Oh, my God. My moans of pleasure were nearly perpetual. Liquid heat seeped between my legs. It was coating my swollen lips. The feelings were so powerful, so all consuming. There was nothing civilized about this.