by Jaide Fox
He looked impressed and surprised. “That’s good. I need my field kit to do more. Damned fool. I told him that zhala was ready to bolt, but he insisted. You two,” he gestured to his comrades. “Stop gaping and come here. I’ll need you to lift him to the zhala after I bind his wounds for travel.” Jerik grabbed a small box from his saddle and rushed to where Dar lay unconscious. The other soldiers followed them and watched silently.
Jerik’s words didn’t register until relief began settling in that they were rescued. When she finally thought them over, a sick sensation gripped her stomach. “Did he know the zhala was ready to mate?”
Jerik cut the shirt off Dar, revealing scattered contusions across his middle as well as the raw, gaping wound. It wasn’t bleeding as bad as it was, and she wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Was he near death’s door? Jerik didn’t look up, sprinkling a white powder that slowed the bleeding. He then placed gauze and tape over the wound. “He had a good idea this would happen. I told him the creature was raring at the bit to mate, but he took it anyway. Does it matter now?” He motioned for the two men to lift Dar’s unconscious body. They grunted and strained and carried him to one of the dragons.
“Not right now it doesn’t,” she said in a quiet voice. Later. She would deal with him later if this didn’t kill him first. For now, concern and near death were his only protection.
***
Jasmine didn’t see Dar when she landed with Jerik in the stables, but Samara and Cyndy were there and they rushed her with tight hugs that temporarily erased the ice forming inside her heart.
“I was so worried about you,” Samara said, pulling back to look at her face. She paused when Jerik hovered nearby, giving him a withering look. “Thank you for bringing her back safe,” she said, tight lipped.
He nodded, keeping his face impassive. “You should return to the palace now. Arkane can see you back safely.”
Arkane was obviously the guard standing nearby with a staff and a boyishly young, unwrinkled face. Jasmine ignored him, looking at Jerik. “Where can I find Captain Tagnon? I want to check on him and thank him for planning me such an adventure.”
Jerik visibly clenched his jaw muscles, holding his hands behind his back in a relaxed military pose. Something indefinable flitted in his eyes. She was certain it was suspicion. This guy was good at keeping secrets. “It’s not my place to say.”
He was covering for his boy. She knew it. She’d had enough experience with men to know when they were lying or refraining from the truth. “Where are his quarters? Or the hospital? I’ll go myself and find out.”
“That information is with headquarters. In the palace.”
“Why can’t you just tell her?” Samara asked, lifting her chin.
He remained silent.
It would be so easy to give in to the violence she felt inside, but she’d been raised better than that. These people wouldn’t make her revert to a mindless animal. “Thank you for your services.”
“You’re welcome, madam,” he said. He spun on his heel and returned to his duties.
“That cat gave me the runaround earlier. Fucking asswipe. Come on, girl. Grail can take us to the hospital, right?” Samara said. They all turned to the awaiting guard.
Jasmine sighed, raising a hand. “It’s okay. Let’s return to our room. I need to clean up and eat before I do this. Give myself enough time to calm down.”
“Don’t you want to make sure he’s okay?” Cyndy asked, twirling a strand of hair and shifting foot to foot.
Jasmine shook her head. She promised herself she didn’t care as much as she did—she knew how to be hard and unfeeling. At least, she’d been successful at steeling herself against hurt in the past. A betrayal was a betrayal. She had no idea why he’d deceived her and plotted out this course of events. “If he made it this far, he’ll probably be okay. Hell, for that matter, he might be better off just croaking. I’m going to rest up, let him get good and rested, and go find him so I can find out why he did this without worrying about him faking dying to get out of my wrath.”
Samara and Cyndy exchanged a look. Arkane audibly swallowed. Jasmine looked at her hands, covered in Dar’s blood, as numbness crawled over her soul.
***
Jasmine peered through the crack in the door, ignoring the guard she’d had to bring with her to travel to the hospital. The fact that she couldn’t walk through the streets without protection irked her nearly as much as seeing Dar’s nearly naked form sleeping in the wide bed. Propped up on two thin pillows with a blanket draped over his legs, his chest was left bare. Even with the distance, she could see blue and purple smudges on his tanned skin from wrestling with the animal, and a wide band of white gauze and tape circled his waist.
She stepped quietly inside, flinching at the tiny squeak of the door as the lock engaged. Turning, she breathed shallowly, as if that would lighten her steps across the tiled floor. Luckily, her soft soled shoes kept her progress silent—she didn’t want to waken him just yet. She stood within arm’s reach of him, staring down. This close, dark circles were evident beneath his eyes—from dehydration and lack of sleep. She hoped he’d been plagued by nightmares just like her. Black bristles speckled his jaw, around his mouth, and down his neck. His lips were chapped, and his hair hung in tangles around his eyes and temples. He looked like hell. Like sexy, hurt, bed-ridden hell.
As hard and vicious as she wanted to be right now, all she could dwell on was how much pain he must be in and this enraging need to soothe that hurt away. She was pissed that she felt any kind of softness towards him.
Almost as though he could hear her cursing herself out, his eyes fluttered open. For the first time she noticed they weren’t grey as she’d thought, but a gun metal blue. Fringed by thick black lashes, they were entrancing, and she had to fight to look away.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he croaked, barely a whisper.
“It’s afternoon,” she said, pouring him a glass of water from the bedside table. He wasn’t hooked up to any machines like a standard hospital—in her experience at least. The fact that he wasn’t hard-wired in with an IV, heart monitor and more gave her the sense that he wasn’t nearly as bad off as he looked.
He drained the glass greedily then shrugged. “It’s all the same in here as long as the sun is up. Thanks. I needed that.”
She took the glass from him and returned it to the table, taking pride with the fact that she didn’t slam it down or break it. “So how bad is it?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“I’m on the mend, thanks to you and the others. You saved me. I owe you my life,” he said quietly, holding a hand over the wound as he breathed. He held his free hand up for her to take. She did, noting the coolness of his palm.
“Maybe just an explanation would do,” she said tightly.
He raised an eyebrow. “Of what?”
“Of why you’d take me on a tour with an animal that was ready to fly off and leave us stranded at the first opportunity. I talked to Jerik Warsong. He told me everything,” she lied.
He kept his face carefully neutral. “Jerik talked to you? I have my doubts.”
“So I’m a liar now?” She tried to jerk her hand free, but his grip tightened, refusing to relinquish his hold. As much as she wanted to fight, she didn’t want him to strain and hurt himself any more than he had.
“No. It is only that he has a general dislike for women and strangers. This is the truth. I did choose the zhala.”
“Why?” she asked, loud and angry.
He sighed heavily, wincing and holding his stomach as if the deep breath pained him. “To strand us. I thought if we were forced out on our own, I would shine as your hero. It was a stupid boy-minded antic to win the girl.”
For some reason, she believed him. She laughed at that. “You’re an idiot. Why the hell would you think traipsing me through the wilderness would win me over? We could have died!”
“Better to see our world from the ground than the air. Is it not the sa
me on your planet? On foot, you can see how far we’ve come, and what we are trying to save. It is the truth I tell. I sensed an adventurous soul in you.”
She was silent for a moment, digesting his words. She wanted to believe he was telling the truth. The whole story was so stupid she couldn’t believe he was making it up.
He tugged her hand, drawing her closer. “Stop fighting me, Jasmine.”
“You’ve got me at a disadvantage. I pull too hard, I’ll hurt you.”
Dar gave her a heavy lidded look, and she recognized it immediately from their kiss before. “You’re right. You could reopen my wound. I may bleed to death in this bed. Come closer. Let me hold you lest I die from want.”
Jasmine chuckled and rolled her eyes, allowing him to lead her into the bed beside him. His cool skin warmed as she snuggled into the crook of his side. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“It’s worth dying if I can taste your lips one more time,” he said in a hoarse voice, cupping her jaw and coaxing her lips apart for his kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft and cool. She felt no tongue, only the soft nibble of his lips on her bottom lip and the stroke of his thumb near the corner of her jaw.
“I think…you’re being melodramatic,” she breathed as he kissed the corners of her mouth and chin. She placed her hand on his chest, felt his heart pounding. She knew she should push away, but curiosity was winning over good sense. On the edge of the bed, she had nowhere to go but the floor or the cradle of his arm. She snuggled against his uninjured side, felt the spasm of his oblique and the steady rhythm of his heart. He turned with difficulty and a pained hiss, enough that he could reach her hip with his long arm.
“If infection sets in, I could be gone tomorrow. Would you deny a dying man his last request?” he murmured. He sucked on the lobe of her ear, sending delightful shivers coursing over her skin.
“And what would that be?” she said quietly, struggling to keep control of her desire and locking eyes with him as she turned her head to free it momentarily from his kisses.
Dar toyed with the waistband of her pants, roaming along until he found the buttons that centered in a line leading to her crotch. He skillfully unbuttoned the first and second. She sucked in a sharp breath as a sudden, unwanted ache pulsed in her core.
“I feel this urge to see my baby in your belly,” he said on a hoarse whisper, dipping to nip her earlobe as he pushed his hand into the opening of her pants. She’d gone commando—since this culture seemed to conveniently have no knowledge of underwear, and thus there was no further barrier to him sinking his fingers into her wet slit but her closed legs, and that only protected her vagina. Her clit throbbed with her heartbeat, wantonly swelling under his direct touch. He groaned when it plumped under his questing fingers.
“No babies. You’re crazy.” She gasped, wanting to fight, knowing she’d stupidly put herself in this position, and he damned sure knew she wasn’t going to risk further injuring him by acting like a fool. Within moments he’d coaxed her thighs apart by pushing his hand fully inside her pants. Cupping her mound, he alternated rubbing her clit with his thumb while stroking the edges of her hole with his middle finger.
Jasmine whimpered, trapped by his arm around her shoulders and that inexorable push inside her. “You can’t do this,” she whispered. “Someone will come in and see us.”
“Not before I can pleasure you, sweeting. Alas, I cannot take my own pleasure, but you will have yours,” he ground out, rubbing her clit with aggressive, maddening circles. Her belly jerked on a spasm. Inner muscles coiled like a tightening spring. Heat suffused her face and chest, making her breathe heavily.
The teasing fingers finally, gloriously, became a steady push. One, two, three fingers stretched her tight, almost to the point of pain had he not been keeping the pleasurable tension high on her swollen nub. Jasmine grabbed his wrist tight, laboring to grasp the orgasm hovering just beyond her reach. Without thought, she tightened her thighs, pushing her hips up to his fingers, fighting to reach her goal. Bliss caught her, erupting lightning hot from her clit, down her legs and up her spine. She reveled in the tingling waves, her core clutching his fingers and desperately wanting more deep inside.
He wouldn’t relinquish his hold, steadily rubbing until she felt pained by his now feathery touch, and then a second orgasm blossomed on the heels of the first. She bit her lip, digging her nails into his flesh, trying not to buck off the bed or hurt him. Holding so still under the onslaught of pleasure was one of the hardest things she’d ever attempted.
She shuddered, trying to control herself. “You’re an overachiever,” she said breathily as the second orgasm fluttered to a stop.
He pulled his hand free and wiped it on his blanket, softly kissing her face. “That is but a precursor. I promise you there is more if you give yourself to me,” he said in a rumbling voice filled with sensual menace. She curled her toes, feeling limp and wondering how she was going to get back to the palace when her legs couldn’t hold her up as she got off the bed.
“I need to think,” she said, somehow making it outside the door. The guard kept his face neutral, but as Jasmine walked back to the palace, she retained a guilty feeling that everyone knew what she’d been about.
Chapter Eleven
“Did you fuck him in the hospital?” Samara asked looking scandalized with wide brown eyes as Jasmine closed the door to their room.
Jasmine blushed and said nothing. She hadn’t blushed since she was in high school. She hadn’t felt guilty about messing around since then either, but Samara had a way of intensifying her own natural guilt.
“You did!” Samara gasped, pointing the guilty finger of doom at her. Her round face scrunched into a mask of amusement and horror. “Hospital bed sex. For shame taking advantage of a sick man!”
Jasmine waved her hands, trying not to laugh. “I did not. You’re crazy.”
“Hmph. You’re walking like somebody that’s got wet panties and a good reaming. I need vivid, gory details. Stat.”
It was Jasmine’s turn to gasp. “You’re a nasty girl.”
“Since when did you become a prude?” Samara crossed her arms and flopped on the bed. “I ain’t the one going around screwing invalids.”
“I didn’t either. He just…uh. Fuck. He’s a silver tongued devil is all I got to say. I went over there to chew his ass out and got finger fucked instead. I’m sure if he’d been able, he’d’ve got me with the meat stick.”
Samara snorted when she said meat stick and kicked her feet in the air, cackling.
Jasmine collapsed on the opposite bed, still jittery inside. She thought she’d feel better after an orgasm, but instead, she had this gnawing ache. Maybe it’d just been too much—with two orgasms. How the hell he’d managed it, she didn’t know. Magic fingers.
“So I take it he apologized really well, hmm?” Samara said in a teasing tone with a huge grin.
Jasmine sighed, hoping like hell she didn’t look as lust drunk as she thought she did. It was easier not being around the object of her arousal. “You could say that.”
Cyndy burst through the door like a bouncing kitten. “They’re having a ball. An officers’ ball.”
“When?” Jasmine asked, leaning up on her elbows.
“In a week. Or something like that. They said when the moons are full they’re opening the palace roof to let the moonlight in. Sounds gorgeous! We’re getting dresses and whatnot. It’s supposed to be the affair of the year. I heard the other women talking about it.”
Samara groaned. “I’m not going. I hate big parties.”
Jasmine picked up a pillow, put it over her mouth, and screamed. She dumped it back behind her head and gave Samara an incredulous look. “Here we go. You’ve never been to one. You’re just being stubborn.”
“So? That’s why. I don’t like crowds. And then have all these men pawing all over us? Naw. Hell naw,” Samara griped. “I’ve got my limits. And I ain’t no more stubborn than you are.”
�
�I think it’ll be nice having men do all the work for a change. It’ll be nice to be wooed for once in my life. We don’t have a lot of choice. Every woman is to attend to meet potential matches,” Cyndy said. “They didn’t make it sound like you could refuse.”
Samara sat up in the bed and blew through her lips with disgust. “That’s bullshit. What about if you’re boo-ed up already? Like Jasmine?”
Jasmine held up her hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. We ain’t together like that. He’s just horny. Plus, I feel like I should sample the merchandise before deciding on anyone.”
They all had a laugh at that statement.
“Guess you better squeeze his melons and make sure the cucumber isn’t bruised or warty, huh, cousin?”
“Samara, you don’t got to show out. I know how nasty your mind is,” Jasmine said with a smile, but inside she was a knotted up mess. Her insecurities from earth hadn’t just disappeared because she was on another planet. If anything, the fact that she was so far from home and forced into choosing a mate/husband had made them worse. The reality was that she had to be careful and not choose someone who would hurt and abuse her, someone who would care for her and possible offspring. The possibility of making the wrong move made her feel sick and desperate. She didn’t want to share her fears with the others, since they were trying to make the best of the situation and adjust. Maybe she’d always be a pessimistic realist.
Dar seemed capable and willing to protect her. He was charming and sexy as hell, but when the lust wore off, would he still want her? Or was she tempting him because there weren’t a lot of candidates to choose from? She looked so different from his kind that she couldn’t help but feel like an exotic anomaly, but how much of that was only in her mind? Would he only have eyes for her when surrounded by the magnitude of other women attending the ball? She couldn’t get his initial resentment of being around her out of her head, and she knew if she allowed it, that doubt would nag her to the bitter end. He hadn’t asked her to be his wife, after all, and wasn’t that what they were all after?