Prime Target

by Monette Michaels

  He was wired for danger.

  At the moment, he wasn’t the one in peril. Others were—male others stupid enough to undress her with their eyes. Since they were pool side, she didn’t have on all that much to strip away.

  Damon’s death stare had effectively created a “no-fly” zone around their loungers.

  “Bakking save me from all territorial males,” Susa muttered as she finished off the berry parfait she’d ordered for an after-lunch treat at the pool-side café. “Damon,” she said more loudly. “Do you want to leave?”

  He turned. His gaze lightened with warmth when he focused on her. “No. Do you want to leave?” He took a sip of his beer and began scanning their surroundings once more.

  “Not really.” She touched his arm to recapture his attention. “Lubho, you’ve done an admirable job of pissing around and marking your territory in the two days we’ve been on board. I’m sure the word has already spread that you absolutely do not share. But men will still look at me, just as the women will look at you. You need to relax.”

  Truth be told, she wasn’t all that happy about the women ogling Damon’s cut body and huge cock, either. But she’d handle the pushy bitches when the need arose.

  He snorted. “I went from prim and prissy to marking my territory in less than four hours.”

  “Yes.” She licked some whipped cream off the edge of her spoon. “You’re a multi-faceted man. You also have nothing to worry about. It’s all about trust. You need to believe in my integrity.”

  “Oh, Angel, I trust you. I don’t trust a single man on this ship any farther than I could toss the Dreamcaster.”

  She sighed, then eyed his untouched piece of berry pie on the small side table between them. “Are you going to eat that? If not, can I have it? I’m still hungry.”

  He nudged the plate to a spot halfway between them. “We’ll share.” He picked up his fork, cut off a piece, and held it to her mouth. “Eat.”

  Susa took a bite and licked her lips. Damon’s gaze zeroed in on her mouth. His desire for her was in his eyes.

  “…to protect you.” He ate a bite and then offered her another.

  “Um, what did you say? I sort of missed the first part.” She took the bite into her mouth, making sure to lick every bit from the fork.

  He swiped a crumb from the corner of her mouth and she licked it from his thumb. His eyes darkened to the color of midnight.

  “I said, I don’t care if you can protect yourself. It’s my right to protect you.” He stroked her lips with his thumb. “And I will, whether you like it or not. Still, I need to see what you know about self-defense and give you some more tips and some practice. Since there’s no cooking class tomorrow, I’ve reserved a sim room for self-defense training.”

  “Okay.” Glancing over his shoulder, Susa narrowed her eyes as a woman approached them. “Female on the prowl. Coming up behind you. If she swivels her scantily clad hips any harder, she’ll throw her back out.”

  He choked on the bite of pie he’d just taken. She handed him his glass of beer. He snagged it and took a hefty swallow. She handed him a napkin. He wiped his mouth and coughed. “Thanks.”

  Susa gave him the sweetest smile she could muster. “Just taking care of my partner.”

  “Hello.” The woman’s voice was a low purr. “My name is Marta. I was wondering if you two are playing in any of the sex rooms this evening?”

  Old Marta included both of them in her question, but the she-predator’s gaze was fixed on Susa’s man. And Damon was Susa’s man.

  Susa decided she didn’t like Marta—at all—and wasn’t ashamed to admit it. If Damon could claim her as his territory, turnabout was fair play, right? And if it came down to a fight to defend her rights, skinny-armed Swivel-hips had no chance. The most developed part of Marta’s body were her breasts, and they were clearly fake. Catty? Yes, she was.

  “Hello, Marta.” Susa stood and was gratified to see she was a head taller than the bitch eyeing Damon as if he were a sexy, sweet treat the woman wanted to lick up. “I’m Susa, and this is my man, Damon. Where’s your man?”

  She looked over Marta’s bony shoulder, searching the pool-side crowd for any male keeping an eye on Marta. “Or do you prefer women?”

  Marta inhaled sharply, causing her augmented breasts to oscillate.

  Damon coughed on a swallow of beer and turned his face as he struggled to breathe. Susa handed him her napkin. She read him as amused.

  Marta’s facial expression turned indignant. “No. I definitely prefer men. My man likes trading partners. He felt you’d entertain an approach from me more favorably than from him.”

  Damon opened his mouth, but shut it when Susa smiled at him. “May I handle this, lubho?”

  “You may.” He took her hand to his mouth, lightly bit the fleshy part of her palm, then licked it.

  Marta’s eyes narrowed and sheer envy colored her emotional aura.

  Susa gave the woman a cool smile. “Thanks for the offer, but we don’t swing.” When Marta opened her mouth, she added, “And we don’t cheat on each other, either. So keep your claws away from my man. I’d hate to have to hurt you.” Susa widened her smile and was sure it wasn’t pretty when Marta paled. “But I would. In a heartbeat. Oh, and spread the word, would you, sweetie? Have a nice day.”

  Marta’s mouth gaped. The woman looked like a dying fish. Not a good look for her. Then she turned and swiveled her hips across the pool deck. She joined a man whom Susa recognized. He’d approached Susa in the casino the night before after Damon had gone to the men’s room.

  She wouldn’t mention that little fact to Damon.

  She sat down, sipped her wine, and waited for the adrenaline pouring through her veins to subside. Was this what other Prime women felt when someone attempted to poach their mates? It was exhilarating and exhausting at the same time.

  “That was fucking hot.” Damon’s voice was a low sexy rumble that made her insides melt. “I’ve never had a woman protect me from another woman before.” He took the wine out of her hand and placed it on the side table. Then he leaned across the small space between their loungers and kissed her—hot, deep, and rough.

  When he pulled away, he muttered against her lips, “You used your voice and your height to intimidate the shit out of Marta. I’m sure you could take her with one hand tied behind your back. But, Angel, your attitude and size won’t help you with most of the men on this ship. If that demonstration was to prove you can handle yourself, it missed the mark. You aren’t getting out of self-defense class. Plus, I’m still going to protect you whenever I feel the need.”

  Susa couldn’t read Damon’s emotions. His damnable wall was up again. Whatever his emotions were, he’d completely missed the point of her take-down of Marta. The demonstration, as he called it, had simply been her protecting her territory.

  “I know you’ll protect me. I have no intention of getting out of learning more self-defense,” she whispered against his lips. “I do want to learn. Plus, while I’m learning, we’ll get all sweaty and be close to each other. I call that a win-win.”

  “Well, now, Angel, so do I.” He covered the nape of her neck with one large hand and held her in place.

  His masterful touch sent delicious chills over her skin and to the juncture between her thighs. Her pussy was instantly wet. Oh, she did love strong, commanding men.

  Then Damon kissed her again until she forgot where they were.

  Damon’s savage self rejoiced. Susa had openly claimed him. She’d been firm and blunt with a finality to it that brooked no further challenges from Marta—or anyone in the area eavesdropping. His Angel might have the carriage and manners of a high-born lady, but she also had a lethal, more primitive side—one similar to his. He liked that a lot.

  Unable to quench his baser hunger for her with the most carnal of acts, he claimed another kiss. He licked the seam of her lips, demanding entrance, and she gave way sweetly. He ate at her lips like a man starved and tasted sweet berr
ies and cream, his pie, and something uniquely Susa. Needing more, he thrust his tongue inside, conquering the warm depths of her mouth for his own.

  Her mewls and the grasping of her fingers on his arm emboldened him, and he pulled her from her chaise across his lap. Holding her head in one hand, he deepened the kiss and massaged her supple, naked back. To his pleasure, she twined her arms around his neck and finger-combed his hair.

  She desired him as much as he did her. He shifted her so he could cup her bottom. A tug on his hair had him, reluctantly, breaking their kiss. But he didn’t relinquish his hold. He liked her near nakedness against his bare torso and her firm, round bottom rubbing against his erection in his swim shorts. “What is it, Angel?”

  She shook her head and buried her face against his neck. Her fingers still tangled in his hair.

  “Was I too rough?” The kiss had been fairly mild compared to what he wanted to do to her. Her position on his lap was sweet innocence compared to what some of the other pool-side guests were up to.

  “No. I loved your kiss. I don’t have a problem with kisses and touches in public, but—”

  Damon tipped her head up and looked into her golden eyes. “But what, Angel?”

  “Public sex makes me uncomfortable, and that kiss was two layers of fabric away from having sex in public. It’s one of my hang-ups. Sorry.” Her shoulders hunched as if she feared his response.

  He mentally cursed. Sometime in her past, he’d bet, someone had forced her to have public sex against her will. The memory of the incident, or incidents, had lain fallow until he’d reawakened it. He suspected this wouldn’t be the only landmine waiting to be tripped.

  Rubbing a soothing hand up and down her tense back, he guided her head back to his shoulder. “Shh. Relax. It’s okay. That’s what this week’s for—to learn more about each other. Just so you know, I wouldn’t have made love to you in front of all these people. I won’t share you with others in any way, shape, or form.”

  She went limp against him, one hand resting on his chest over his heart. “So, we won’t be showing off your rope skills in the play areas?” she asked.

  “Not if you don’t want to.” He nuzzled her ear.

  She sighed and cuddled closer. Affectionate displays seemed to be okay, thank fuck. Because he wasn’t sure he could be near her and not touch or kiss her.

  “Demonstrating the correct way to tie you up is one thing,” he kept his tone low, keeping their discussion private, “and I can do that over your clothing. Binding you while you’re nude and then having sex is a scene solely for you and me and no one else.”

  A contented smile on her kiss-swollen lips, Susa ran her fingers through his chest hair. Her touch set his skin aflame. His cock twitched against her bottom. Her nearness and the heady scent that was Susa threatened Damon’s tenuous hold on the reins of his libido; it was pleasure mixed with pain.

  “Thank you.” She placed a light kiss on his chin. “Someone needs to show some of these supposed Doms how to send their subs into subspace. The One only knows, the guy last night had no clue. You’d be doing the subs a public service.”

  Damon covered her hand, stilling it, trapping it over his heart where it felt right. “Stop now, Angel. I’m one nanosecond from throwing you over my shoulder and carting you off to our room from where we might not emerge for the rest of the cruise.”

  Lowering her gaze, she rested her head on his chest and placed her hands in her lap. “My body says to tempt you, but my head is telling me you’re correct that this week is important for both of us. So, I promise to be good … for now.”

  Damon grinned. “Does that mean you’ll tempt me once our getting-to-know-one-another period is finished?”

  “Yes.” She turned her head slightly and rubbed her cheek over his heart. The skin pulsed and heated to her touch. “I think the ultimate outcome for teasing the beast in you will be worth it.”

  “I can guarantee that.” Damon tipped up her face and once more took her mouth in a deep kiss filled with the promise of more to come in the future.

  Chapter 17

  Day 3, Dreamcaster

  “Oof!” Susa was pinned underneath Damon, yet again. “I’m really getting tired of being on the bottom.”

  He chuckled. A low rumbling sound like that of a large cat. A mischievous large cat. “Angel, all you have to do to be on top is to—”

  She covered his mouth with her hand, muffling his next words. “No sexual innuendos. This is defense training.”

  The corners of his eyes crinkling with laughter, he nipped her palm in a little reprimand for covering his mouth, then he licked away the sting.

  She pulled her hand away from his tongue and shivered with desire as chill bumps covered her skin. Though that was more likely caused by the weight of his body on top of hers and his hard-on lying in perfect alignment with her mound than the bite or the following kiss of his tongue. It also didn’t help that his deliciously smoky-citrus scent and his body heat surrounded her from her from head-to-toe. Diew, she was one unfulfilled mass of raging hormones.

  Unlike the safety of cooking class where any teasing Damon did was verbal and his touches mere brushes, the last hour of self-defense training had played hell with her physical attraction for him. Even lying next to him in bed for the last few nights hadn’t had such a devastating impact on her libido.

  At the moment, all she wanted was to beg him to take her right then and there. She opened her mouth, but recalled their conversation from last night. She swallowed her words; she couldn’t poke at his honor when he was keeping to the week of no sex on her behalf.

  Instead of begging him to make love to her, she said, “Nadia didn’t teach me nearly enough. I have no chance if some guy your size decides to attack me.”

  “She taught you enough. You just have to use it and mean it. You’re holding back, Angel.” He brushed a kiss over her sweaty forehead before pushing up and off her. He offered her a hand up just as he had the last twenty times he’d dumped her on her ass.

  Once standing, she put her hands on her hips. “Holding back? I don’t think so. I tried to thrust the heel of my hand up your nose, and you evaded and subdued me.”

  “I could see the punch coming.” He grinned. “I can read your expressions like a book. Another man would’ve had a bloody, possibly broken, nose. So keep that move. It’s a good one. Deliver it and then run like hell.”

  He was right. The move had worked on the dumb ass ruler of the Umbraxi system.

  “Well, what about when you came up behind me and grabbed me? I tried the stomp on your instep, but you picked me up so my feet dangled. Explain how you could read my expression from behind?”

  “I can’t. But I can feel your emotions and read your body language. I was forewarned and was able to sabotage your move.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “In that situation, you should’ve countered my defensive move by head-butting me with the back of your head. You’d either break your opponent’s nose or startle him enough to let you go. Then—” He raised a brow.

  “I run like hell.” She liked the head butt idea and filed it away. “When you allowed me to sort of thrust my hand at your nose and I fake-followed up with my knee to your groin, you twisted, grabbed me, and put me on my ass.”

  “The move would’ve worked with anyone else.” Damon sighed. “Angel, you have the basics down just fine. I’m not disparaging any of the moves you’ve tried on me in the session. My point with putting you on your bottom during this last hour was to give you practice doing something. You need muscle memory so it becomes instinctive. The major point you should take away from all the training is—don’t let them take you easily. And after you’ve obtained even the slightest advantage, scream and run like hell. Your goal is to make you an inconvenient victim. There are a lot of other women who’d freeze. You don’t freeze—and that right there means you won’t be a victim. Look at how you were ready to escape the Dornians.”

  “Then why are we still here, ge
tting all sweaty, if you’ve already realized all those things about me?” Susa was miffed to say the least. She could’ve been sitting by the pool in another exotic sim-vacation spot, sipping on a fruity drink.

  “Because I needed to see what you actually knew and, like I said, get you some practice.” He paused, and a slight smirk twisted his lips. “Plus, I wanted to get you all hot and sweaty. Touch you all over since I can’t take you to bed and make you all hot and sweaty in a far more satisfying way.”

  “Well, you did that. Though, I prefer the term dewy to sweaty.” She moved closer, until her nose was a few inches away from his neck. She inhaled deeply. Besides the smoky citrus scent of him, he also smelled of clean male sweat and the unique pheromones that indicated he was her perfect mate.

  A flicker of worry that Damon might not be receptive to the reality of the mating bond crossed her mind once again. As far as she was aware, no mating where the empathic connection grew stronger with each passing second had ever been abandoned. Of course, this mating was not a normal Prime-Prime mating.

  Pushing her concern aside for now, she gave into the urge to lick a bead of sweat off his neck.

  Damon gripped her upper arms. “Angel—” His tone held a warning and hunger.

  Susa sighed and backed away. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” She picked up a towel and wiped off some of the dew from her skin. “Just so you know, you taste yummy.”

  His gaze darkened to indigo as he eyed her from top to bottom, lingering for several long seconds at her pussy. “I’m sure you will, too.”

  After dinner

  Damon stood behind Susa’s chair at the card table. He narrowed his eyes at a man who, like Damon, was observing the game. Unlike Damon, the asshole didn’t have the right to stand so close to Susa’s side. The soon-to-be-a-dead man’s hip brushed her bare arm and leered at her cleavage.

  Not that Damon didn’t look at Susa’s cleavage, but his gaze was one of possessive admiration.