by Reagan Woods
“Nora pointed out that Natar is showing signs of chemical influence,” Zocan relayed. “She thought perhaps guilt over putting the device in her boot was to blame for his mental state.”
Lyon pulled off his boots and stood them along the wall where they wouldn’t be tripped over. “It could be,” he mused tiredly as he headed for the sonishower. “However, I’d say it’s more likely other deeds that have disturbed him.”
“That’s what I told her.” Zocan stood and caught Lyon around the waist. He gave Lyon a thorough kiss, taking his time about it, before squeezing his ass in farewell. “See you soon, darling.”
Nora squirmed uncomfortably. She’d seen shows of affection between the two before, but she’d never seen them so blatantly sexual. It made her very aware of her own needs and made her feel a little like a looky-loo pervert. If only she had someone who she could love the way Zocan and Lyon seemed to love one another.
As though reading her mind, Zocan leaned down to stroke her cap of dark hair once more. “I know you’ve been through a lot and you often feel alone. You’re not though, Nora. We’re here,” he told her, causing her mouth to gape. “And we think you’re stunning just as you are. You needn’t have long hair to be beautiful.”
Her mind went completely blank as she sought some appropriate parting retort. She was still searching after the door slid shut behind him.
Lyon met her guppy-like expression with a speculative stare of his own and then burst out laughing.
“Did he just pay me…a compliment?” She asked. “Or have I finally lost my sanity?”
Sobering marginally, Lyon answered, “Don’t let that coolly aloof attitude mislead you, Zocan has a soft heart.”
“He pities me, so he compliments me?” Nora wrinkled her nose in confused disdain. “Like a self-esteem bump?”
That drew another bark of laughter – furthering her consternation. “Definitely not,” he managed as he palmed open the sonishower. When he stepped inside, his expression grew thoughtful. “We might have pitied you at first. Not now. If you weren’t exactly who you are and in your specific circumstance, then we never would have met you. Who would have educated us on resilience if not for you?”
On that cryptic – and possibly flattering? - note, the door shut, and the tube went opaque.
“Okaaay,” Nora intoned, forcing herself to her feet to begin her first workout of the day. “Everyone has lost their minds. Great. No problem.”
Grimly, she began her warmup.
Chapter 41
Four Days Later
Nora watched over Zocan’s shoulder, crowding in behind his seated form to see the data from the scans of the Xani spaceport. “Would you like to sit on my lap?” He inquired dryly, half-turning toward her on the workstation stool.
She snorted without backing out of his personal space, testing his tolerant attitude. The last few days she’d felt almost euphorically giddy as she ate up the positive attention and interaction with Zocan and Lyon. Perhaps her isolation of the previous month had been due to her own stubbornness, but she was making up for that in spades. “Maybe. It depends on if Natar gets away from Z’cari and comes back here again. I’m totally using you as a living shield if he does. Fair warning.”
Zocan sighed and lifted his long fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. “This situation is only for a bit longer,” he promised. “We need to keep at safe distance for a few more days – a week at most – before we can begin the next phase of re-acquiring the Nom’magata.”
Her stomach cramped at the reminder. She knew the timeframe of Zocan’s master plan to steal his ship back from the Xanites. Reminders of how much longer she had to endure Natar’s flare-ups always put a damper on her sunny mood.
Z’cari struggled to keep Natar off the bridge when Nora was present – which was often now that the language barrier was not so high, and her keepers were escorting her out and about. She also suspected Lyon and Zocan were attempting to assess her technical skills to help determine her suitability for a position with them. Those skills truly sucked but she was hoping to impress them with her willing attitude.
Z’cari’s attempts to separate her and Natar weren’t always successful, and the outbursts that resulted from these encounters were becoming more and more unpleasant. Zocan and Lyon put Natar in his place with cool efficiency each time, but his assessment that she was a traitorous whore came through loud and clear.
Pre-alien invasion, capture and kidnapping, Nora’s self-esteem probably would have buckled under the constant onslaught of hate Natar spewed. The events that had befallen her since then had thickened her skin. She still desperately yearned for belonging, but she was resigned to being at odds with Natar.
If anything, the last several days of trailing behind Zocan or Lyon for long stretches had demonstrated just how damaged Natar really was. Yesterday, he’d refused to leave when Lyon brought her to the bridge to study the scans. Natar had greeted her cordially enough only to lambaste her a few moments later. He seemed fine for a few minutes or hours, but then he would catch sight of Nora and randomly lose any semblance of control. Luckily, Z’cari remained on hand to keep him on a short leash.
“I know the plan,” she reminded Zocan briskly. It upset her to see him distressed. Knowing she was part of that stress made the knot in her stomach tighten uncomfortably. “I feel like shit for triggering him all the time. Yet, I cannot be confined to that cabin day and night.”
“Things will be better once we aren’t all on the same ship.” He seemed to be reassuring himself as much as her.
Zocan surprised her by closing one warm hand around her wrist and squeezing supportively. Nora’s heart gave an answering clench, her whole being going soft and gooey from the touch. He was increasingly demonstrative with Lyon in front of her. However, he never even bumped up against her when he left their shared bed each morning. She often felt like a leper around him, so this small touch was like an olive branch and she was determined to be worthy.
“Thank you for being my friend, Zocan,” she said earnestly. In the spirit of comfort, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders in an impulsive hug.
Nora didn’t know what she’d expected from her quick move – perhaps some vague awkwardness and a sputtering pat on the back. Instead, he spun all the way toward her on the stool. When he hooked an arm around her and jerked, she tripped forward, landing between his wide-braced legs. His arms wrapped her in a deliciously warm embrace.
“That’s not how I’d classify our relationship, Nora,” he contradicted huskily.
Confused humiliation ripped through her. Had she misunderstood the whole situation? She would have pulled back to examine his face, but he held her fast, gently pushing her head onto his shoulder. She found her nose pressed tight to the tall collar of his shipsuit as her heart pounded, sending a disorienting thunder through her ears. His arms tightened, far steelier than they appeared, and he buried his face in her short hair.
Thoughts spun so quickly through her head that she couldn’t latch on to any single one. She fell completely silent as he held her close, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down her back.
Losing track of time and place, she slowly melted into his embrace, and dreamily savored the hot, hard strength of his chest against her soft breasts. Physical contact after so long without felt amazing, but the fact that it was the handsome, distant Zocan holding her gave her a euphoric emotional boost.
Jesus, where was her pride? She should pull away. And she would. In just. A. Minute.
The hardness of his lithe, muscular back beneath her restless fingers sparked an uncomfortable flood of sultry wetness between her legs. Clearly, her affection-starved body was mixing up the signals of friendship – or not-friendship - and sexual need. Stiffening with stunned embarrassment, she found the will to pull away.
“No.” Zocan’s voice came out husky. “Stay.” He wrapped her tighter in his embrace.
Pressing her forehead into his shoulder, Nora breathed him in,
determined to ignore her body’s miscue and soak up the unexpected welcome. His skin smelled pleasantly of salt and musk; uniquely him. That unmistakable scent in combination with the steely comfort of his body against hers, sent lustful need swirling through her like a storm. Her thighs clenched, and with a shiver of effort, she refrained from clawing the neck of his shipsuit aside to taste the firm golden column of his throat.
Dios mio. Now was not the time to compromise the life she was fighting for. Zocan had just told her he didn’t see her as a friend only to tease her with this taste of acceptance. There was the added fact that he was mated to Lyon – the only other sort-of-friend she had. This hormonal reaction to physical touch was something she needed to quash. Somehow.
Zocan inhaled deeply and groaned, his breaths fluttering the short hair on top of her head. His big hands slid down to cup her bottom and moved lower to the tops of her thighs. Without breaking contact, he hitched her right leg and then her left up over his hard thighs leaving her splayed across his lap.
Though her pants were baggy, they strained across her quivering pussy. Embarrassed, she tried to push back, to put some space between them. Yes, he was sexy in an untouchable way. That didn’t mean she had to lose her head at his proximity.
Zocan held her in place easily with one hand supporting her at mid-back. With his other, he tilted her face up until they were eye-to-eye.
He gave her ample time to use her words, to tell him this wasn’t a good idea, to just open her mouth and say no, damnit. Instead, she slicked her tongue over her bottom lip and dropped her gaze to his mouth in wordless invitation.
The answering spark in his alien eyes sent a fresh rush of moisture to her nether region. As if sensing her need, he whispered, “I certainly don’t feel friendly right now.” His words were punctuated with a deliberate roll of his hips that brought the steely length of his erection in contact with her sensitive flesh.
Nora gasped at the sensation, her eyes shooting up to his. His expression became intense as he repeated the action twice more, rougher each time. The uncompromising hand beneath her chin forced her to meet his exotic gaze, but she couldn’t have looked away if she’d tried.
Slowly, slowly, slowly, he lowered his lips to hers in a delicate kiss. The unexpected sweetness brought tears to her eyes even as her mind screamed that this wasn’t right, wasn’t ok – no matter how right it felt. His mouth moved leisurely over hers as if he were savoring the experience.
A discrete cough had her jerking back in surprise and her heart leaping into her throat. “Don’t let me interrupt.”
She swiveled to see a blank-faced Lyon standing just over the threshold of the bridge. Great. Now she’d gone and hurt the one person she lo- liked and relied upon most. Jesus, what had she been thinking? Self-destructive much?
“You’re never an unwelcome interruption,” Zocan denied easily, his lips slightly swollen but otherwise seemingly unaffected by what they’d shared. When she would have slid off his lap, he pinned her in place with one firm hand on each hip. “Nora and I were sorting a few things out.”
Lyon cracked the barest of smiles. “Good.” He extended a hand in Nora’s direction. “I came to collect you for your self-defense lesson.”
This time, Zocan let her go when she slipped away. Her skin felt scalded from embarrassment and arousal all at once and her pants stuck to her in the most uncomfortable way. It was only her pride that kept her head up and her shoulders straight as she prepared to face Lyon’s wrath.
Chapter 42
Warily, Nora watched Lyon execute a series of fluid stretches. Though bulky, he was breathtakingly graceful. And, Madre de Dios, watching his body in that skin-tight shipsuit left nothing to her imagination.
He’d removed the utility belt he habitually wore and his boots, so the long, heavily muscled lines of his body seemed to stretch on forever – just like the sick tension building in her gut. She wished he’d just yell and get it over with. The waiting was killing her.
Yesterday, she’d mentioned that she wanted to learn to defend herself better. She knew she needed to be more skilled if she wanted to be a long-term part of their operation. Lyon had volunteered to teach her.
Since she’d landed in their lives, Lyon had nursed her back to health, fed her when she was too exhausted to feed herself and defended her when the others – including Zocan - probably would have left her to die. She’d repaid his generosity with betrayal.
If she were honest, she was beyond attracted to both Lyon and Zocan. Maybe it was proximity or loneliness, but the sexual pull toward them grew stronger each day. It had been much easier to focus on her anger when she’d thought they didn’t trust her.
Now, every breath either one of them took in her presence felt like a taunt; look what we have together. And you have no one, Nora. It was ridiculous that she felt that way, she knew.
The need to find her place gnawed at her – and she wanted to stay with Lyon and Zocan. Maybe that could still happen – if she managed to re-establish a professional distance.
Lyon’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. “This cabin is too small for sparring,” he lectured, coming to his feet and making a slight bow in her direction. “So, I will show you a series of katas that will help prepare your muscles and reflexes for strikes and blocks.”
His steps were purposeful yet light, his arms moving with controlled force through blocks, punches, and backfists while he advanced across the small space. Every so often, he threw in a dive to the floor or an athletic squat-jump.
“Lyon, we need to talk,” she interrupted his flowing movements.
He rolled from the low push-up style movement he’d been engaged in into a fluid kip-up, rolling backwards onto his hands and flipping himself onto his feet in an effortless-looking movement. The show-off. “You think these movements are too advanced, but I assure you they aren’t.”
Nora shook her head. “No,” she managed to choke out through the constriction in her throat. “That was definitely beyond my current ability, but that’s not what I want to speak about.” She took a fortifying breath and rushed on, “What you saw before – with Zocan – I’m sorry and it won’t happen again.”
Rather than seizing the opportunity to ream her for her behavior, he cocked his head and frowned. “What? Why not?”
He was trifling with her now. She probably deserved it, but it still hurt. To hide the tears that sprang to her eyes, she spun away. “I’m not a homewrecker,” she choked. “I’ve just been so alone…I-it started out as a simple act of comfort and gratitude. Then, one thing led to another and we were kissing. I didn’t mean for it to happen!”
Hard, hot hands were on her shoulders in an instant. When he spun her back to face him, his yellow-gold eyes had gone sultry and hot. His mouth was no longer approachably curved but set in a thin, unyielding line.
“You should speak to Zocan about that, then,” he finally advised in a raspy voice. “Because I can assure you that he acted exactly as he intended.”
Lyon caught her chin in his hand and tilted her head back. Even then, with her heart beating heavily and her senses filled with the spicy musk she’d come to associate with him, she didn’t fear.
When he pressed his mouth to hers, drawing her body close and molding her softer form against his hard body, Nora sank into the contact despite the warning bells clanging in her head.
At length, she pulled back. “This is a bizarre way of punishing me.”
His hands came up to cradle her face in rough palms as his eyes burned into hers. “There’s nothing to punish, Nora,” he rasped, raking his thumb across her swollen bottom lip. “Zocan is my mate and I’m sworn to him. That doesn’t mean that I would keep him from connecting with you.” Hungry eyes searched her face for a long moment before his mouth twisted into a wicked smile. “Just as he would never try to come between us.”
Her heart pounded in her ears. Nervousness and excitement warred inside her. “Us?” She barely got the question out.
He shifted, gentling the kiss and guiding her back a step with a hand at her waist. She savored the way he cradled her face with one hand and put her where he wanted her with the other. The floaty, dreamy quality of the kiss spun her head around even as the insistent flex of his fingers biting into her flesh grounded the experience and made it real.
She couldn’t think about the implications of his words or actions. She was too busy drowning in sensation, in desire.
How many times had she covertly admired the way he looked, the way he moved? How often had she wondered what it would be like to be held close by those ripped arms in passion rather than pity? Fantasy had nothing on the reality of Lyon’s fiery, possessive kisses.
Someone moaned. Her hands slid greedily over the hard angles and planes of Lyon’s thick chest. His fingers dove through her hair to cradle her closer as his mouth plundered, his tongue slicking between her lips rhythmically. He tasted better than anything she’d ever imagined.
Nora hooked an ankle behind his leg, needing closer. He hitched her hip higher, pulling her fully up his body. With his arms supporting her and her legs wrapped tight around his waist, she became the aggressor, ravaging his mouth with sharp nips only to soothe with bold swipes of her tongue.
Her fingers kneaded his shoulders as she pressed her breasts against him in an unabashed plea for more. He had her pinned beneath him on the edge of the bed in the next second, his blatant erection pressing hard against the sensitive vee of her thighs. The rhythm of his cock scraping over her needy clit was almost heaven. She circled her arms around his neck for leverage, rising and falling, grinding against the thick bulge for all she was worth.
She came with a brilliant burst of light and energy behind her closed eyelids. Breath ragged, she fell back against the mattress as Lyon continued to lavish kisses on her face and neck.