The Challenge

by Kearney, Susan

  “Your breasts would please me better if they too were oiled.”

  She almost moved. Almost. But he had not told her that she could.

  “Do it.”

  Before she’d been willing. Now for a moment, she wanted to fling the pot in his face, but she had to assume some responsibility for his anger. She had spent a fortune in credits without discussing her plans with him, and she had spoken to his enemy. She couldn’t blame her actions entirely on the culture difference. Even on Earth, marriage meant sharing financial decisions. And she’d promised to obey his customs, then disobeyed his direct order and had taken a call from Jypeg. So now she dared not risk increasing Kahn’s anger when her plan was to assuage it. She needed him hot. She needed him to make love to her. She needed him to forgive her so she could forgive him for putting her through this. And he’d just handed her a weapon. Dipping her fingers into the pot, she scooped out lotion and cupped her palm, then poured half the lotion into her other hand, too. Using one hand on each breast, she slowly coated the oil over her breasts, leaving the aureoles and nipples for last.

  His mouth parted. His eyes widened, and he never once took his gaze from her. She had no idea exactly when her breasts had become so sensitive. “Tweak your nipples,” he demanded.

  The lotion made her want his touch, not her own. She hesitated.

  “Would you like to start over?”

  She forced a smile to her lips and raised her hands back to her breasts. Taking her nipples between thumb and forefinger she plucked the tips, shooting a volt of electricity directly between her thighs. Unable to control a gasp, she looked up to see if he’d caught her reaction.

  He had. His pupils dilated. “Again.”

  She obeyed, almost staggering at the pleasure.

  “Use the oil everywhere,” he demanded, his voice hot and laced with huskiness.

  She smoothed the oil over the tips of her oh-so tender aureoles, and his eyes burned her with their fire. However, the lotion wasn’t teasing only him. The heat from the overhead lights, combined with the slick, slippery oil, plus the smooth caress of her own hands had her on fire.

  She needed for him to stop making demands. She needed him to reach for her, to touch her. But he didn’t. He kept both a physical and emotional distance between them that she was determined to breech.

  “Oil your nipples for me.”

  She had never done anything so outlandish. Her stomach clenched. She felt brazen and sexy and bold. When she massaged the oil over her tender nipples, she had to grit her teeth to hold back a soft moan.

  Surely now he would take her, make love to her? She was so ready.

  But the moment she finished her task, he issued a new command. “Cup your breasts underneath. Offer yourself to me.”

  She surrendered to his demand. Her breasts heaved in the light, her glistening skin and nipples begged for his touch, but he only stared, making her once again aware that he was fully dressed while she was posing decadently.

  “I like having you offering yourself to me.”

  What man wouldn’t?

  As if he’d heard her sarcastic thought, he used his psi to turn the walls around her into mirrors.

  Oh, God. She looked like she belonged in the center of a men’s magazine. But worse than her pose was the sheer need on her face. Her lips pouting for a kiss, her legs straining to hold the pose, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and her breasts heaving in expectation.

  “Remove the rest of your dress, but don’t move a muscle.”

  Her mouth went dry. Now he wanted her naked. Vulnerable.

  She wished he’d make the mirrors disappear. Or dim the lights, but it was as bright in this chamber as daytime on Zenon Prime.

  Sending a shaking psi thought to her suit, Tessa turned her suit transparent and was totally bared to his gaze—except for the horrible shoes. The heels made her back arch, her butt jut even more, and her breasts stand up higher. Between the lights on her shimmering flesh, the mirrors which showed her front and back and every angle between, and his close scrutiny, she felt wicked and wanton.

  She glanced away from her reflection to catch him watching her with a fiery interest in his eyes and compressed lips that warned her he wasn’t done. She gulped down her nerves, tamped down her edgy anxiety.

  Why was he still resisting? The mirrors disappeared, and he turned the walls back to silver bendar. Now what?

  With him standing behind her, she had no idea what he would do next. So when he lightly ran a finger between her parted legs, she jumped in surprise.

  “I told you to hold still.” He immediately slapped her bare buttocks once, twice. Not enough to hurt, just enough to create a rush of blood and remind her that as badly as she wanted him now, he could so easily make her want him more.

  She dared not move, wanted to beg for him to touch her, caress her, ached to part her legs wider to urge him to do more. But with his instructions not to move or speak, with her hands still cupping her breasts, she’d never felt so awkward and needy and unsure. She couldn’t deny she wanted him. Not with the moisture seeping between her open thighs. Not with her nipples tight and achy hard.

  When he placed his hand between her legs, she hoped her slick heat would prove irresistible to him. She expected that when he walked around to face her again, his mouth would have softened. It didn’t.

  And unless he made love to her soon, she would soon be hot enough to suffer a total meltdown. The heat on her bottom combined with the burning ache between her legs, plus her need to push him over the edge kept her hopes up.

  “Dance for me again. I take much pleasure in your nudity, especially the pink color of your bottom and your tight nipples.”

  Strange how his words made her even more aware of what he had done to her. She should be angry over the way he spoke to her, never mind the spankings, but she’d learned that the sting quickly disappeared leaving such delicious heat and undeniable desire that her mental protest was sheerly intellectual.

  Apparently to make him lose control and take her, she had to give him an added inducement. Another pose.

  She restrained a frustrated sigh.

  Determined to dance until he couldn’t resist her, she vowed to do what he asked. Drawing out a contest of wills might be sweet torment, but she needed him to make love to her before she went insane from wanting him.

  So she danced to entice him, to seduce him, letting her emotions guide her. Her steps and movements might have been more desperate than graceful, but she no longer cared. And when she stopped, she waited with her nerves ragged and her heart tap dancing against her ribs for him to make the next move.

  He held out the oil to her. “Use it everywhere.”

  Oh, my. Her heart pounded, but she still lacked oxygen and her lungs strained to draw in air. Her brain clouded with indecision—as if she had a choice. She didn’t. Her ears rushed with the roar of blood. She’d never known she could do such things. Or feel so wickedly delicious. But he was her husband, her life mate who she wanted to make up with after a terrible disappointment, and her inhibitions dropped away. If he wanted her to do this for him—then she would. If he required her to be this vulnerable—then she would be strong enough to be this vulnerable. She dipped her fingers into the oil and watched his Adam’s apple bob, a muscle in his jaw clench. Sweat beaded on his upper lip.

  She slathered the oil over her belly, her buttocks, her thighs, her calves.

  “You missed between your legs.”

  She did as he asked. If her confidence had been a color, it would have been intrepid red. If her determination had been a temperature, it would have been blazing hot. And if the need in her had been a storm, it would have been a category five hurricane.

  She had never felt so erotic, so exposed, so sexy. Surely now he would make love to her.

  As she straightened and waited for him to come to her, she forgave him for putting her through this. Her need for him wasn’t merely physical, but emotional. With every fiber of her soul,
she wanted him to make love to her. Accept her. As she stood before him naked and oiled, if this had been a high stakes game of poker, she’d just wagered the house limit and shown her hand.

  The tension in the room had her holding her breath. The lovemaking was going to be so good. She’d waited so long, and the heat between her thighs made her quiver. But even more than physical relief, she longed for her husband’s caress, his pardon, and his approval.

  He approached and more moisture seeped between her thighs. She held her head high.

  But he didn’t stop.

  He kept walking past her, his tone tight and cold as a Montana blizzard. “I don’t want what you have to offer.”

  Spurning her, he headed out the door.

  Stunned, she tried to follow him. But he’d locked the door.

  Damn him! She’d offered him everything she could to make things right. Everything. And he’d left her trembling with need, locked in the room. After all she’d done for him, after she’d obeyed his most outrageous demands, he . . . didn’t . . . want her.

  Something she didn’t know she had inside her hurt.

  Hurt worse than any beating she’d ever taken in a dojo. Hurt worse than losing her parents. Hurt worse than losing Master Chen. She hurt so badly that the pain wrapped around her and squeezed out a sob. She’d wanted to assuage his simmering anger because . . . she had feelings for him.

  How dare he make her want more than sex from him? How dare he make her cry? She told herself she cried tears of anger at how cruelly he’d just treated her, but she knew better. Somehow the big warrior had made her care about him. That’s why she’d responded to the tangle of his searing looks, demanding touch and prideful anger. That’s why he could stomp her buttons.

  Damn it. She didn’t want to like him. She didn’t want to care about him when he didn’t let her speak for herself. When he didn’t even treat her like a civilized person. She might have traveled to the future, but his demands were primitive.

  And the hell of it was that while he didn’t respect her, she still cared about him. What the hell was wrong with her?

  When had she begun to change? Had she developed feelings for him when he’d lost that bet to her and kept his word to train her as he would a man? Or when he’d spoken about his starving people? Or his mother’s broken heart? Or when he’d admitted he’d known about Dora and had permitted Tessa continue to speak with the computer to help her adjust?

  Damn the man. He’d saved her life, married her, then spanked her and sexually aroused her and then abandoned her. And she wanted him? How the fuck had she let this happen?

  Chapter Sixteen

  KAHN SLUMPED in front of the communications screen, knowing he couldn’t have denied his wife without help from his suit. His yen to make love to her almost overrode his fury at Jypeg. Kahn had to use every measure of control to keep the Challenge first and foremost in his mind—and that meant walking away from the Endekian who’d killed Lael, the same murderer who who’d boasted how Tessa was speaking to him about a business deal. However much Kahn hungered for the day when he would be free to fight Jypeg, he had to put his people’s needs over his own for revenge and justice. Confronting Jypeg would have created an interworld incident where Rystan would come out the loser since it had yet to win full Federation support.

  So Kahn had left his enemy alive for now and focused his anger on his wife. She needed to learn to obey him—the difference could mean whether she lived or died during the Challenge. And only one thing seemed to even slow her down—sexual stimulation followed by his refusal to satisfy her. His actions had been harsh—but he hoped effective. Damn she was hot. And her moves had been almost too seductive to resist. She’d looked so lovely, and he’d wanted to go to her so much that walking out of that room had been as difficult as leaving Jypeg alive. But neither Tessa nor Kahn could do only what they wanted. Rystan and Earth were counting on them to comport themselves as representatives of their worlds.

  Reluctant to give his people the devastating news that he hadn’t secured funds to buy food, he put off sending the disagreeable call a moment longer and checked his navigation instruments. Their coordinates were slightly askew.

  “Computer, recalculate our flight path and correct for the most proficient travel time to Rystan.”

  “Compliance.”

  He watched his instruments, double checking the computer. What he didn’t understand was how he’d erred on his initial miscalculation. Although the mistake was slight, Kahn didn’t make those kinds of errors. Had he been so upset with his wife that he’d failed to perform the intricate calculations properly? She’d certainly distracted him from everything else. Even during his stymied talks with the bankers who had all turned him down, he’d wondered what had possessed Tessa to speak with Jypeg. The Endekian had killed Lael, and Kahn had no doubt that Jypeg would have disposed of her as well—if he’d gotten a chance.

  Kahn’s hands clenched into fists of outrage. Tessa had lied to him. Gone back on her word. Worst of all, she’d placed herself in considerable danger and by doing so had risked the fates of two worlds. No wonder after Kahn had arrived on the starship he’d been upset enough to make a mathematical mistake.

  While he could have used a computer command to head for Rystan, Kahn usually preformed the navigation equations himself. He didn’t fly Federation spaceships that often and didn’t want his lose his piloting skills from lack of use, so he practiced every chance he had. Besides, after removing his wife from Zenon and his most hated enemy, he’d needed time to calm himself before he’d confronted her. So he’d calculated the equations, but his thoughts had been divided between his task and her.

  Tessa had had no right to put herself in such danger, taking unacceptable risks without even consulting him. To have spoken to Jypeg was sheer stupidity—only Tessa wasn’t stupid. She was smart, adaptable, and back on Earth she’d proven she had the capacity for loyalty by risking her life to save others.

  He didn’t understand her. She didn’t come from merely a different planet and a different culture, his wife had a different mindset. In retrospect, perhaps he should have given her a chance to explain her actions. But he’d been so angry that he’d snapped. As his temper now cooled, he also realized that he would never have been so furious if he hadn’t come to care for his wife. Ever since their psi had melded, he’d appreciated her generosity of spirit, her courage. He’d actually been discovering that he enjoyed a few of their differences. In some ways, he had more in common with Tessa than he would have a woman from Rystan. She understood fighting tactics and the need for a warrior to keep his skills sharp. She also understood loyalty—or he’d thought she did. Change didn’t come easy to Kahn, but he’d tried to make allowances for her background.

  Now, he had to find a way to forgive her and move past this incident. His people back on Rystan needed him to focus on a way to save them. Although the immediacy of the Challenge and his task to train her took precedence over keeping his people from long-term starvation, he couldn’t simply forget that his friends and neighbors might not last the winter.

  And for personal reasons, he also had to find a way to forgive his wife. But stars help him, every time he thought of her speaking to the man who’d killed Lael, he got angry all over again. He understood that on Earth Tessa had been a warrior in her own right, and under normal circumstances she could do a good job of looking out for herself. But Jypeg was almost as skilled a fighter as Kahn. One on one, Tessa wouldn’t stand a chance, and back on Zenon Prime, Jypeg could have brought resources to bear that Tessa couldn’t begin to counter.

  Of course, Tessa didn’t know much about Jypeg. Kahn hadn’t told her. A mistake he would rectify. Choosing to have Tessa concentrate only on what she needed to know for the Challenge had been a mistake. Especially if she didn’t survive to even take the test.

  “Computer, why did we vary from optimum flight path?”

  “You failed to account for additional mass.”

  “I adj
usted for supplementary fuel.”

  “But not the cargo.”

  “What cargo?”

  “Your wife had goods delivered to the hold.”

  Kahn slapped his palm against his head. He’d never asked Tessa what she’d bought. She had his gut so twisted up with the danger she’d put herself in that he hadn’t stopped to consider that maybe he could salvage the mess she’d made. Perhaps he could resell her purchases and recoup part of the credits—enough to buy food. That would mean turning the ship around, but the loss in time and fuel might be worth going back, depending on how easily he could resell the goods she’d purchased.

  “Let me see a cargo manifest.”

  “There is no cargo manifest,” the computer said.

  Kahn spoke through gritted teeth. “Why not?”

  “I wiped the documentation after the cargo arrived.”

  “On my wife’s orders?”

  “Yes.”

  Kahn’s fury rose several more notches. “Tessa doesn’t want me to know what she purchased.”

  “You are making assumptions that I cannot confirm or deny. There are other possibilities.”

  “Like what?”

  “Her goal may not have been secrecy. Perhaps she wants to tell you what she purchased herself. Perhaps she wants to surprise you. Did you ask her?” The computer prodded in a most uncomputer-like fashion.

  “Are you taking her side?”

  The computer hummed and hesitated. “My ethics program prevents me from answering that question.”

  “Why?”

  “My ethics program prevents me from answering that question, also.”

  Kahn frowned in frustration. The computer had programmed rules to follow. To prevent two people of equal rank from ordering conflicting directions and crashing the computer, the machine had ethical and logic circuits that allowed it to think. For example if a captain went berserk and ordered the computer to empty the air out of the ship and murder the crew, the computer wouldn’t follow the order. Something must have jarred the computer’s logic circuits, and he figured she was due for an overhaul.