Touch of Danger (Three Worlds)

by Strickland, Carol A.

Now it was his turn to look away from her. “Look. I truly think I’m... I think I—”

  “No. No, you’re not and no I am not, okay? I refuse to be pushed farther than—”

  “Pushed?” He spun on her. “Pushed? Are you saying that I—”

  “This situation!” she cried. “You just said it, but you don’t get it. Tomorrow everything will be different. Everything. Forever and ever, amen. So just—”

  She tried to summon up her indignation when she felt so helpless and he looked so hurt. “Just don’t let all this get to you. You have to be strong in this world, and I don’t mean Valiant-strong. I mean you’ve got to protect yourself when God throws these things at you. You have to take those two steps back or you don’t survive.”

  He was silent for a long while before he finally said, “You’ve got a hell of a way of looking at things. You want to talk survival? I’ve had to survive in this world—and in other worlds. My life was in shambles, dust at my feet, and I survived. And I have loved.”

  “And a lot of good it’s done you, right?”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You don’t have the right to—”

  She had to be strong for him! “No, I don’t. But you’ve loved and you haven’t been able to do anything about it and you’ve been miserable, haven’t you?” How his jaw tightened at that! “Haven’t you?” She shook his hands off her. “Well, that’s not going to happen this time. You’re not going to go back miserable and lonely because of this. We can control things here. We don’t have to let our guard down, do we?”

  “Damn, you can’t—”

  “So I don’t and you don’t and we are going to drop this subject right now.”

  He fell silent. His face turned to blank stone as he gazed at her.

  “You’re a very practical girl.”

  “You have to be practical to survive.”

  “No, you don’t. I know perfectly impractical people who have survived very well. Loving, warm, impractical people. It seems to me that you were pretty warm and impractical yourself just a little while ago. Maybe a couple times today already.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.” His crooked smile returned to mock her. “I think you don’t know yourself nearly as well as you think you do.”

  “Well, I can’t love and I can’t be loved. I know that much. That’s my reality.”

  He ran his thumb along her cheek next to her mouth. “I’ll work on you today,” he told her, his eyes squints of mischief. “I got you to let me touch you yesterday, and today I’ll get you to let me touch your heart.”

  “You’re just asking for trouble if you try.”

  “Trouble is my middle name,” he drawled.

  “This is not a game to me, Lon.”

  “Games.” What flashed across his face? Something of his lightning mind reflected in his features before he gave a sudden grin and announced, “Race you!” He whipped Lina’s towel off her and ran away with it flying above his head like a flag.

  She shrieked and tried to snatch it back, but his long arms kept it above her reach. Lon stopped to enjoy the show of her jumping, her eyes lit first with annoyance and then frustration, her breasts bouncing, that tiny triangle he’d left on her pointing the way between her legs. He’d notched out the top of it so it made a “V,” for Valiant’s woman. She was his; he just had to follow through on his strategy to keep her.

  Huffing in mock anger, Lina tucked the towel back into place. “Touch it again and you’re dead,” she growled.

  “Such a modest girl.” Londo grinned at her. He lounged in the shade of the forest at the edge of their beach, in the crook of two fallen trees. “So where do we build the treehouse? Pick a spot.”

  Her gaze swept the forest for a moment and then took in the sea, at the seagulls screaming with laughter on the high breezes above them, at the glare from the bright sunlight that made her squint at the Pacific. There was nothing in the world as green as the trees, as white as the beach, nor as blue as the high tropical sky!

  Lina straightened to take a deep breath. “What a great day!” The storm had left the sky washed clean. They could see for miles and miles, out to the edge of forever. “Wish I had my camera. Or a frisbee.”

  “What, play and not build houses?” He was about to make a joke when the ground trembled, just enough to feel it well. “Whoa. Easy, girl. The volcano’s not going to blow today, is it?”

  She frowned at that, her eyes going distant, and then shook her head. “Years yet. Two at the soonest, but no more than five before it wakes up, she says.”

  He nodded, not surprised at her any more. After all, yesterday he’d talked to a storm god. A deva. Whatever.

  “And Earzh tells you this?”

  Lina flicked a bug off the top of her towel and adjusted the fit again. “Earth’s a very nice person. I’ll introduce you sometime.”

  “You do that. Hey, I know where there’s one, a frisbee,” Lon said. “I’m not—”

  “Clairvoyant,” Lina supplied the word.

  “Clairvoyant,” Lon said. “But if I can picture where it is, can you pick it up from me?”

  She blinked. “Never know until we try,” she said. “Okay, picture it in your mind.”

  Fiercely he concentrated on his apartment and the particular souvenir cabinet. Lina’s eyes unfocused, she chewed her lip, and suddenly he held a frisbee in his hand. “MONTREAL 1976” was emblazoned on its face, along with the five Olympic rings, gold writing on a black background.

  “Very cool.” He flashed a smile to distract her and then threw the disk hard down the beach. “Catch!”

  She ran after it, laughing as she gauged the landing spot for the frisbee. The towel was lost within a few steps. Lon enjoyed watching all of her moving as she ran. She missed, but gave it a valiant try as it arced to a landing just out of her reach. Picking it up, she sailed it low back up to him. It streaked by before he realized how fast it was going. He didn’t even bother to grab for his towel as he ran after the toy.

  They played fast and hard. Lina saw just how much Londo was not himself. He’d leap for the frisbee as if he could fly but it’d be far out of his reach. He reacted as if his reflexes were twice as fast as they were now.

  She didn’t take it easy on him. She did try to cut him a break every now and then, but it was her responsibility to teach him how to be a norm for a day, and part of being a norm was being physically fallible.

  Still, he amazed her at how fast he seemed to adjust, to assess his level of skill and play to it. He was sharp. And he looked so hot in action: sweaty and gleaming, his skin such a dark warm tan as if it were congealed sunlight. As if he were Hercules come to life in front of her eyes, a tropical god in earthly form.

  She threw the frisbee into the wind over the ocean.

  “Lina!” Londo shouted in disappointment. “That was a gift!”

  Then he saw that the breeze was bringing it right back to shore, practically along the same course it had taken out. He ran to catch it, his eyes only on the frisbee. Leaping, trying to judge how far he could jump now, his fingers just closed on the edge. He sprawled onto soft sand with it and then reached up to gather Lina down to him. They rolled on the sand, laughing.

  She was completely at ease. Off-guard. Londo reached with his mind to surround her with easy-going pleasure.

  She stopped laughing, but kept her smile. “Not a good idea,” she said. “Let’s—”

  Comfort. Safety. Despite herself, she relaxed next to him. He tipped her chin so she’d look directly into his eyes. Intimacy. As he opened his mind he reached out to hers. They meshed on a soul-deep level. He could sense mirrors of himself in her, places that held resonance to him. All he had to do was search. Fan them.

  It all came down to Woman and Man. She was his woman, and he was all man.

  She wrapped her arms around him to snuggle into how he made her feel.

  And Londo gloried in his tactics.

  Londo lay in a reverie at the edges of her mind,
rubbing her butt under her shirt, as she lazily traced the lines of his pectorals.

  He’d told her stories again, but this time they were of the groupie and the rock star, or the snooty socialite and her pool boy; Red Riding Hood and the wolf, or the detention hall teacher and her naughty student. Together they played all the parts.

  Now Lon pushed her up so she was on all fours over him, looking down at him with a smile quirked in expectancy.

  He had his hands on the shirt placket when he stopped. “What?” he asked, curious at her expression.

  “I was thinking that it was about time on your schedule for you to be getting back to work.”

  He almost blushed. He’d been found out at least in part. “What, you tired out?”

  Lina loosened the shirt and Lon pulled it off her with that dazzling grin of his. “It’s just that I didn’t think you were really serious when you said you were going to come a hundred times,” Lina told him. “You know, the Guinness people require an official witness for world records.”

  He pulled her down to lie beside him where he could reach her well. “Too bad it’s just the two of us then. Eh bien, let’s see. From a purely theoretical view, with no scientific or psychic basis to it, I figure I have about 24 hours here in this condition. Maybe 25. One hundred divided by 25 means—”

  “You’ll have to develop bad habits. We’re falling way behind schedule,” Lina chided.

  “I’m not finished yet,” Londo said into her neck as he rolled her nipples between his fingers. “I’m a strong finisher. The best.”

  Amazing how his touch up there could stir fires down there. “Mm. I’ve noticed you’re a leg man,” she laughed softly.

  “Lina O’Kelly,” Lon said, “You have the all-time best boobs around, and I just gotta get me some.” He rolled her over as she let out a shriek, until she lay on her back on the sand. Now he took his position over her.

  “Mine,” he said, kissing one breast, and “mine,” kissing the other. He placed his index finger on her chin. “Mine,” he pronounced solemnly, gazing into her eyes. Then he lowered his mouth to his favorite parts of her and went to work, leaving her to play with his soft hair, to run her hands over the contours of his strong shoulders and back.

  “So is this what this segment is, or do we breast-ball?” she asked as she could.

  He raised up at that. “We haven’t done that yet,” he considered and then added, “And there’s something else that we haven’t done.” His eyes took on a sly squint. “Anal,” he announced.

  “Oh, no. No, no, no,” Lina said. Lon kissed her breasts.

  “Anal,” he repeated.

  “Nope,” she said, and he moved up on her to kiss her mouth.

  “Uh huh,” he whispered with a smile. He put his arms around her and kissed her a little harder, pulling her hips insistently toward his.

  She pushed him away. “Nuh uh. Most people go their whole lives without that.”

  “C’mon, Lie honey. Anal. Backdoor. Hershey highway.”

  “No,” she declared. “I draw the official line at that.”

  Lon laid his head on her chest and studied her eyes, sensing the strength of her refusal versus the importance of the request. “D’accord,” he finally sighed and made a rude noise with his mouth against her skin. She giggled and kicked at his silliness. “So we’ll just move along to Plan B.”

  “You know, Valiant, I get the feeling that this is just a little more than the average human male can accomplish. If you ever wanted to switch jobs, you could make a fortune in porn.”

  He grinned at her as he slid to her side. “I’ll keep that in mind. Maybe I’ve just been saving up all my energy for today. All I know is that I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow.”

  “So you’ll fly instead.”

  “With a big stupid grin on my face,” his smile faded. “Tomorrow—”

  “There is no tomorrow; only today,” Lina said quickly.

  “Today could be a problem, too.” He frowned. “Just one day, and damn it...”

  Lina waited.

  “What do you do to yourself?” he asked suddenly. “I’ve seen you. Healing yourself?”

  She eased away, not knowing if she should feel embarrassed or not. “It’s been a bit more than this average human female can take, Lon. I’m just trying to keep up with you.”

  “Do you think you could do that... with me?”

  One day for Londo, just one day. How many times had they done it so far?

  “Y’know, on those commercials they say that if it lasts for more than four hours—”

  “Not the same thing.” Lon shook his head at her. “There’s plenty of blood getting to where it needs to go, believe me.

  “I want to do it until we have to stop,” he insisted. “I don’t care if my balls turn green and fall off tomorrow, as long as they work today. Please.”

  “This is not what they taught us at psychic school.” Lina pressed two fingers against her mouth, figuring what the best approach would be.

  She showed him then: how to touch the etheric field, soothe it and breathe out toxins. Now when they made love, Lina made sure that every touch of hers stroked not only his skin and muscles but him as well. She breathed the white light love energy of the universe into him to cleanse and revitalize him. She felt like she was glowing with the energies she channeled into him; they swept her clean as well.

  “Jesus, Lina,” Lon whispered into her ear. “I can feel that. I can feel that!”

  He came twice without resting, but they both collapsed to nap after that. Sun through the palm trees woke Londo gently to wonder at the world.

  So this was what touch really was, he thought as he lay beside her. He stroked her lightly so as not to wake her, as she lay with her lovely head on his shoulder.

  Skin had always been something to pretend to touch, or to allow the slightest of contact with. It was eggshells, it was thin glass, so easily bruised or broken. He’d learned that the hard way so long ago, but he’d learned it quickly and fortunately with people who loved him enough to forgive him.

  But this. Skin was warm, it was cool. It was dry and it was moist. Firm, soft and hard. This was woman’s skin, tasting of salt and sweat and sex and sand, smelling of the same, with shampoo and soap and... woman... mixed all together.

  He ran his hand over her breast; she shifted in her sleep and the breast shifted, too. He loved breasts and nipples and women’s bellies and hips and asses and legs and dark reddish hair and green eyes and soft pink lips wherever they might be.

  She almost awakened as she turned over and slid her free arm over his shoulder. Londo loved this, too: the closeness, the intimacy, the trust that he’d earned from her despite everything. For all the years he’d railed at the universe bemoaning his fate and declaring sex overrated claptrap, there was this to counter it all, this day with this woman. He let his hands explore this new universe that she brought with her precious self.

  This day. He could live with it now, maybe. The wonder of it would shine throughout the rest of his life. It would have to.

  But he was damned if he was going to live that life without having her beside him. She still refused to say the obvious. She would. He’d make her.

  His woman.

  Chapter 13

  “Hungry?”

  Lina hadn’t realized it, but she was ravenous. It was well after noon. When was the last time she’d eaten? They’d been exercising since before dawn. They had caught rainfall for water, with a couple rows of coconut shells worth of clean pool water in reserve, but still... She raised her head from his sandy chest. “Did you pick that up from me?”

  “Non,” Lon said. “I’m hungry, too.” He scratched his chest thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time for the big game hunter to do his job. All I can think of is a Big Mac. A dozen Big Macs.” He eased her off himself so he could reach over to the pack and draw out the dagger there. Its cold steel flashed as a sparkle of sun caught it.

  “Voyons... Setting tra
ps...” Lon muttered, then, “Is rat good eating?” He made a sour face. “Feel like fish, chérie?”

  “Can we make a fire? I’m really not into sushi.” Lina peered inside the sack, trying to figure what could be used as a pan. What kind of leaves did people pack the pig in when they made a luau? The fire was underground, right? No smoke for anyone to see?

  “Maybe I could go up there,” Londo gestured at the high ridge to their west, “and try to spot a McDonalds.”

  “McDonalds again! I wouldn’t think you’d go in for that kind of thing.”

  “Why not?”

  “Paraheroes just don’t go to McDonalds, right?”

  “And how many paraheroes do you know?”

  She smiled at him. “Just one now. He definitely goes to McDonalds; I stand corrected.” One eyebrow went up and she squinted her eyes, looking far away. “You want fries with that?”

  “What? What are you up to?” He flashed her a devilishly conspiratorial grin as he sidled close.

  “I’m going to try something. I feel a little guilty because I’m not paying for this—all my cash got blown up in this terrible hotel fire, you know...”

  “Mais oui, I’d heard.”

  “So, where is there a Micky D’s that has a lot of Big Macs made up, some that they won’t ever miss?”

  Lon watched those dark-fringed eyes go out of focus. She slowly rubbed his stomach as she concentrated.

  “Hm. Not there. It’s the middle of the night back home... But all McDonalds are basically the same, right? Search for the feel and— There’s one. Now let’s see...”

  A wrapped Big Mac appeared in the air next to Lon. It arrived on its side and dropped to the sand, but it seemed intact. Another one plopped down on top of the first.

  Lina’s mouth drew up in distaste as she drew away from Londo. “Oh bother!” she exclaimed.

  “C’est quoi, le problème?”

  “I think on top of everything else I just became a vegetarian. Dead cow vibes, ick.”

  “I hope you don’t mind if I eat them.”

  She waved him ahead, and then a large carton of fries settled unsteadily next to the hamburgers. A little stack of ketchup packs arrived one by one like a swarm of red fireflies suddenly come to light. Garden salad was next for her, with a fork; napkins emblazoned with the McDonalds logo.