“What about your contact?” she asked as she used her psi on the materializer to order them a meal.
The scent of food made his stomach growl. He shot a thought at the materializer, a request for octar meat with jarballa sauce. The materializer didn’t have real octar meat—the animals could only be found on Rystan, but the machine could process chemicals into a replica of the desired food and neither his taste buds nor his body’s digestive system would know the difference.
“How weird,” Angel muttered. “I asked for turkey and dressing and instead I got—”
“Octar and jarballa sauce?” He grinned at the familiar aroma that reminded him of home, his mother stirring the sauce and his father repeatedly entering the kitchen to see if it might be ready ahead of schedule. His mother would pretend she didn’t see her husband stealing a spoonful to test and shoo him out of her kitchen before she burned dinner. Miri had never burned anything. Food on Rystan had been a precious commodity, and she ran the kitchen like a general, always on schedule.
Angel lifted the food from the machine and carried it over to him, her smile broadening. “It smells scrumptious.”
“I used my mom’s recipe.”
Angel jerked in surprise, almost dropping the food before she steadied her hands. “I thought the machine didn’t understand my request. But you used your psi?”
“I suppose I did.” Kirek’s delight warmed him like the summer sun. “I’m healing.”
“That’s so awesome. I’m very glad—while undressing you is so much fun, I’d rather you dressed yourself,” she teased. “Do you think you used your psi to send me the code?”
“Maybe. I was focusing hard on the numbers … but I don’t know, either.”
She set the food by the console, and he picked off a piece of crusty meat, dipped it into the sauce, and offered her the first bite. She opened her mouth, and carefully, he placed the food between her lips.
“Mm.”
“Good?” Kirek asked.
“Wow. Better than good. It practically melted in my mouth.” She licked her bottom lip. “The flavor is hard to identify. It’s a mix of tangy and spice with a hint of cilantro.”
She picked up a piece of meat, dipped it into the sauce, and fed him. “So how much psi do you have back?”
“Not enough.” He grinned. “But I believe we can remedy that.”
“How?”
“Psi power is linked to emotions and sexual activity.”
“You made that up.” She laughed accusingly.
“Actually, I didn’t. You may have read about Tessa taking the Challenge—an alien test that had to be passed to be accepted into the Federation—but you didn’t read about how she learned to use her psi.”
“I thought Kahn trained her to fight, and her psi developed.”
“That’s only part of the story. He used sexual frustration to help her activate her psi.”
“She must have been furious.”
Kirek laughed. “She was. She stole a spaceship and escaped. To save her life, he ended up marrying her.” When Angel frowned, he added, “The history books did get one thing right.”
“What?”
Kirek’s tone softened. “They love each other.”
“And you want to be just like them, don’t you?” she snapped at him.
He chose his words with care. “What’s wrong with love?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Been there. Done that. Love doesn’t last. It sure as hell kills freedom.”
Kirek winced. Changing her mind might be a more difficult task than defeating the Zin.
AFTER EATING, KIREK insisted they nap, but Angel was too jumpy to sleep. While she wasn’t certain that Kirek’s theory about his psi healing being tied to sexual activity was valid, she certainly didn’t mind testing it. Although no one understood how the suits worked, to develop psi power, powerful feelings seemed a key. She’d certainly teased Kirek long enough for him to have had a healthy frustration level.
They had been good together. Already she wanted him again … right away. But he simply pulled her against his side, floated them into a reclining position, and told her she would need rest to prepare for their next encounter.
But Angel didn’t want to wait. When Kirek seemed to immediately drop into a deep sleep, she tried to disengage herself from him. She could use the time to check on her ship repairs, but Kirek’s psi as well as his arms and legs had wrapped around her, and she didn’t want to risk waking him by breaking apart.
If he needed rest to heal, then she would allow him to sleep—at least for a few hours. Always impatient, Angel restlessly thought about the rock pool, the Kraj, her ship, the upcoming mission … and Kirek. She’d been astonished when he hadn’t taken control about halfway through their lovemaking and had allowed her to keep the commanding role for as long as she’d wanted.
Rystani warriors had a reputation for always maintaining the upper hand. Yet Kirek had exhibited an unusual display of confidence by letting her have her way. Oh, he’d warned her of consequences, but the teasing light in his gaze had told her she would enjoy herself—he would see to that.
She’d never met anyone with so much confident control. Kirek didn’t pretend. He didn’t act. He simply was a force in and of himself.
She had no doubt that when he awakened he would reverse their roles, and she looked forward to what they would do with a thrill of anticipation. Kirek’s experience had been obvious, and she wondered if he’d ever been in love. How many women had loved him? She suspected as he’d traveled across the galaxy, he’d left a line of broken hearts behind. Not that he’d promise women and leave them. He wasn’t the kind of man to flirt and make love and then callously walk away, but he would appeal to many women who would set their hearts on having him.
And soon, he would focus all that delicious sensual experience … on her.
Between her anticipation and eagerness, she didn’t feel the least bit tired, yet after selling the salvage, ordering repairs to the Raven, their strenuous underwater lovemaking, and the desperate swim through the tunnel to avoid the Kraj, the day had taxed her emotionally and physically. Eventually, she slept.
And awakened to the scent of … coffee? She raised her head and peered at Kirek. He hovered over the console, a mug in hand, but he remained aware enough of her to notice the moment her gaze fell on him.
He lifted the mug in greeting. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” She stretched and arched her spine, causing her breasts to rise beneath her suit. Kirek stared, and she enjoyed his appreciation as much as she enjoyed unkinking the knots. “How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough to check the Raven’s repairs. They are right on schedule. With the number of mechanical bots helping the mechanical engineers, the engine overhaul should be finished soon.”
She would have preferred to check herself, but it would sound churlish to say so. Since she knew she tended to be overprotective when it came to the Raven, she repressed a twinge of discomfort and changed the subject. “Any sign of the Kraj?”
“They seem to have lost track of us.” His satisfaction and relaxed demeanor told her that he believed them safe.
“Great. Is that coffee I smell?” She strode over to the console.
He casually cleared the vidscreen then offered her the mug. “Want some? I like mine black.”
“Please.” She took a sip, appreciating the caffeine kick, even as she wondered if he hadn’t wanted her to see what he’d been working on. She told herself to stop it. She didn’t like being so paranoid without reason. He’d probably been done looking at … whatever it had been. “Do Rystani drink coffee?”
“Tessa has addicted some of us to her vice,” he admitted. “I have to admit that there’s only one better way to wake up in the morning.”
From the heat in his tone, she knew he was talking about lovemaking. She peered at him over the mug’s brim. “I wouldn’t have minded if you’d waked me.”
“We
both needed rest. Our journey may be long and arduous, and we should begin in the best shape possible.”
“Now that I’m fully rested …” She raised an eyebrow and handed back the cup.
“I’ve cleared the day to make love to you.”
“The day?” Here she’d been suspicious, and he’d been up early, trying to make time for them. She really needed relaxation practice, but after their conversation, she’d worried that he might not want to make love to her again. While he’d accepted the idea of having a fling, he clearly wanted more from her.
“Would you like breakfast first or …” His eyes flared with heat. His bunched muscles reminded her of Lion, right before he pounced on a tasty morsel. Her mouth went dry as she thought about all those muscles over her, under her, inside her. Her stomach knotted, and she felt as though she was balanced on the edge of a black hole, about to be drawn into a gravity well so deep she would never be able to climb her way out.
Yet even as anticipation ratcheted up the tension in her gut, she didn’t understand why. They’d already made love. This was Act Two. So she didn’t quite comprehend why she felt as though she were stepping into unexplored territory.
It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been twice married or hadn’t taken lovers. She wasn’t sexually starved. Angel had already been naked with this man, made love with him. So why did every taut nerve ending in her body warn her that … making love with him might be deliciously different from what she expected?
In the rock pool, Kirek had handed over control to her. He’d abided by his decision with spectacular command of himself. She knew he expected her to do the same. She was good with that. He’d already saved her life. She trusted him with her body. Yet … the tension in her stomach warned her that she took his warning of “consequences” seriously.
Kirek said what he meant. He didn’t issue false threats or boasts. She’d already learned that when he said he could do something he followed through. His hints had teased and tantalized and had her surprisingly … on edge.
She had no idea what to expect.
Her uncertainty about his plans raised the stakes … although she couldn’t say why. That she didn’t even consider backing out, but was looking forward to making love to him again this soon told her she’d already let him under her skin a bit farther than she liked.
She placed her arms around his neck and kissed his brow, his nose, his cheek. “I’m not yet hungry for food.”
“Good.” He drained his coffee and set it aside, placed both hands on her waist and lifted her onto his lap. “Before we go on … I want to set some ground rules.”
“You want a safe word?”
His tone conveyed amusement. “I’m unfamiliar with that term.”
“When lovers role-play, they choose a safe word so that at any time their partner will know when they choose to stop.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Why not?”
His eyes smoked with a tender heat that warned her that wrapped in a calm exterior, his interior pulsed with a smoldering inferno. He spoke gently. “I will know how far you want me to go—even if you don’t realize it yourself.”
“Do you have any idea how arrogant you sound?”
“That’s only because you have no idea what my psi is going to reveal.”
Huh? She swallowed hard and stared at him, half awed, half excited, and very certain that she wanted to be on his lap and in his arms. “You can read minds?”
He shook his head and chuckled. “You do have a fanciful imagination.” Tugging her against his chest, he smoothed her hair from her brow and nipped her earlobe. “I was talking about ground rules for afterwards. Whatever happens between us … the mission must go on as planned.”
“Agreed.”
“Even if you hate me.”
“You damn well better not give me reason to hate you,” she warned him, filled with sudden unease. Even as she second-guessed her decision, her nipples hardened and moisture seeped between her thighs. She turned their suits transparent.
He cupped her breast, his palm warm and solid. His thumb flicked over the tip, shooting an arc of heat into her core. “The mission must go on, even if you hate me.”
“I don’t work with people I can’t trust,” she said. “And that’s all I will agree to.”
“I understand.” His words were spoken softly, but a darkness flashed in his eyes that then disappeared so quickly she thought she’d been mistaken. Kirek’s Rystani blue irises often flared with purples and reds that she could easily read, but for some reason, he gave away nothing right now.
But he had her questioning herself—something that didn’t happen often. Had she made a mistake by telling him more about herself than she should have? Confused, uncertain, she didn’t understand why they were talking at all when they could be doing things she found much more pleasurable. Like kissing.
“Are we done discussing the ground rules?”
“Almost.”
She raised a brow and waited for him to say more. But he seemed content to caress her breast, and she caught herself holding her breath, wondering what he’d say next. But he seemed fascinated with her skin. His palm slid back and forth slowly, creating a delicious friction that made her other breast ache for the same kind of attention.
“This is your last chance to change your mind,” he warned.
“What do you mean?”
“Once we begin, I will not stop.”
She cocked her head to look at him. “Not even if I ask you to?”
“Especially not then.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m going to push you beyond your normal boundaries.”
“Suppose I don’t—”
“You will enjoy much pleasure.”
“Sounds good to me.” She frowned at him. “It’s almost as if you’re trying to warn me that you harbor some deep, mysterious, kinky need.”
He laughed, his tone warm and open and cheerful. “I assure you. I’m into pleasure. Yours and mine.”
“Then … why are we talking?”
“Stroking you pleases me. Your breast is so silky smooth. I don’t think I’d ever tire of stroking such lovely skin.”
She tilted her head back and upward to steal a kiss. But he shook his head. “It’s my turn to touch.”
“All right.” She supposed fair was fair. “But my other breast could use some attention, too.”
He turned her so her back rested against his chest. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized that opposite them was a floor-to-ceiling mirror that spanned an entire wall, making the room seem twice its size. But she wasn’t interested in the decor. Instead she watched his hands cup her breasts, lifting her, caressing her. When he tweaked the nipples, shooting pure pleasure straight to her loins … something odd happened.
In the mirror, she saw a curious mist of blue begin to curl from his hands, spreading over her breasts and swirling like smoke around her. “Oh … my … God. What is that?”
“The blue color represents how you feel about my stroking your breasts.”
“Huh?”
“You don’t have to tell me what you like. We can both see it. Watch.” He tweaked her nipples.
“Ah …”
He tweaked them again.
“Oh … oh.”
Blue smoke flared into an exciting orange. Now she understood how he would know what she wanted. All he had to do was see what color aura she emitted. Oh … my … God. He was going to read her feelings, and the idea made her squirm, even as it excited her.
“You like what I’m doing, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Fascinated, she stared in the mirror. Her thoughts swirled, and she wondered if he’d put a hallucinogen in the coffee, but he’d drunk it, too. She felt normal—well, as normal as one could feel when sitting naked on a Rystani warrior’s lap while he ever-so-gently stroked her breasts, causing delicious blue ripples. He lightly pinched her nipples, shooting orange flares of excitement th
rough her.
“Hmm. If I keep stroking your breasts and only your breasts, what other colors will you create for me?”
“What do you mean?”
He stopped caressing and the orange flickers vanished. He massaged her upper arms and soothing green vapors billowed in the mirror. “Now green tells me you feel safe.”
“This is so cool.”
“Glad you like it. Now part your legs for me. We aren’t stopping until we do all the colors.”
She gulped. He’d said colors represented emotions. She no longer knew if she wanted to do them all.
Chapter Eleven
ALTHOUGH KIREK had warned Angel that he wouldn’t stop after she’d agreed to begin—and she didn’t want him to—seeing emotions as colors was an intimacy issue she hadn’t expected to have to deal with. She wasn’t any more comfortable with him reading her emotions as clearly as Orion’s Belt than she was at seeing those colorful emotions for herself.
No wonder he hadn’t worried about picking a safe word. If she didn’t like something, he would know the same moment she knew it by the color she radiated.
He nipped her neck and an orange light flickered, and as he lightly nibbled, the sting turned to a pink tickle. “How are you … oh my … oh …” Fascinated, excited, she watched him elicit feelings and colors from her with every touch. “How can you … do this?”
“I was born in hyperspace.”
“That’s not an explanation.” She wriggled her butt against him, hoping he’d take the hint and lower his hands to her parted thighs. Or at least place his hands back over her breasts.
Even as she thought how much she ached for his most intimate touch at her core, dark, ruby red puffs rose around her, telling him exactly how she felt … excited, passionate, aroused.
“I’ve created a psi field around us that manifests feelings as color.”
Then it dawned on her. “So the color isn’t only how I feel about your touch … it’s more?”
Rystani Warrior 04 - The Quest Page 13