by Rose O'Brien
Jen was a sapien, and he knew the law. They got one night. And he was about to spend that one night with her in a bombed out hovel in the middle of nowhere, huddled together in sleeping bags.
But this magnificent, fierce creature wanted him, and he was powerless to deny her. When the time came, he would give her up if ordered and deal with the pain and heartbreak. They were old friends of his.
He knew all of the reasons why he shouldn’t give into his feelings for her, but he just didn’t care anymore.
As he slowly slid into her, feeling her slick heat and the muscles of her pussy grip his cock, the chain that held his control snapped.
***
Jen gasped as Theron penetrated her. She’d known that erection was big, but the feel of it as it entered her left her feeling stretched. But he moved slowly, and her body was able to accommodate him.
He kept most of his weight on his elbows, but the knowledge of his body above her had her lost in the feel of him. She’d always loved the weight of a man on her, but Theron was hands down the biggest she’d ever been with, his body completely blocking her view.
For a moment she felt overwhelmed by the sensations, by the size of him, by some feeling she couldn’t name that was bouncing around in her chest and head.
Then, suddenly, he began to move.
He had been holding back before, she realized, as the full power of his body was unleashed. The buildup had been like the long, clattering chain pulling her to the top of a roller coaster. Well, they’d just dropped into the first exhilarating freefall.
As his arms tightened around her, his hand clamped just below the base of her neck and pressed her to his exquisite chest. She parted her lips and scraped her teeth over the skin where his shoulder met his chest.
His groan of pleasure spurred her own arousal higher. Her nails dug hard into the steel cables of his back, and the ride got wilder.
The friction of his cock as he moved inside her was kindling a fire within. As the heat started to spread, a delicious tension began to build. Her internal flames ignited with a rush, and she was suddenly coming apart. The orgasm could only be described as explosive, and she arched hard against him, her head snapping back.
She caught sight of his face, and he was gorgeous, his blonde hair slightly damp with his sweat, falling over his brow. His eyes were open and on her. She fell into those blue depths as her orgasm continued to grip her, spinning her out of control. Sensation danced along her nerves like the tiny embers that rose from a fire, shooting up and floating back down again.
Suddenly, his eyes squeezed shut and he held her fiercely, his erection jerking inside her. A rush of liquid warmth filled her as his body continued to pound into her.
His movements gradually slowed, until he was mostly still. His muscles still spasmed and trembled around her. Reaching up, she brushed his hair back and looked into his eyes. They were intense and hot.
They stayed like that for a long time, just breathing, just feeling. She stroked his hair back from his brow and let her caress linger on his stubbled jaw. It had been so long since she’d shown tenderness to anyone or anything. She knew she shouldn’t, but she held his gaze. If he saw the tiny sprouting feelings that she didn’t have a name for, then so be it.
Within the blink of an eye, his expression changed, becoming concerned.
“Oh, gods, did I hurt you?”
She laughed.
“You’re adorable,” she said, patting his shoulder.
“I must be crushing you,” he said, moving like he was going to get off her. She held his shoulders.
“I like the feel of you,” she said as she pressed her palms against his back and watched the firelight dance over the perfect angles of his face “More than the feel of you.”
She met his gaze, let him see her desire.
“I like you,” she whispered, a little smile tugging on one corner of her lips. “All of you.”
Something dark, like a slamming gate, moved in his eyes. He looked away and withdrew from her body, withdrew his heat. He moved so quickly, like he was desperate to get away from something disgusting. She suddenly felt very cold.
Theron stood and moved slowly around the fire, his naked flesh glowing in the firelight, his muscles thrown in sharp relief by the shadows. There was a rustling as he dug in her pack. Something landed in her lap. He’d tossed her a package of wet wipes.
“So you can clean up,” he said, not even looking at her. His eyes were on the floor. She just stared at the plastic package.
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
Theron bent and retrieved his boxers from where they’d landed on the floor in their mad scramble. He pulled them up and covered himself. His T-shirt was next, falling into place at his waist. He bent again and scooped up his pistols, one in each hand, before moving to sit by the fire.
Without looking at her, he said, “I’m going to stay up. You should get some rest.”
Jen stared at him in stunned silence for a moment, ice creeping along her veins, freezing her and leaving her hands and feet tingling and numb. Part of her wanted to question him, talk to him. Why was he shoving her away? But the words wouldn’t come. In silence, she lay down in the sleeping bags, which seemed so frigid now, and curled on her side with her back to the fire.
Chapter 11
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Theron stared into the flames, silently cursing himself. How could he have been so stupid?
He’d been prepared to deal with the fallout of escalating their relationship, he’d even been prepared to deal with his own feelings, but he wasn’t ready for what Jen showed him. This wasn’t purely physical for her. Jen cared about him. The shy vulnerability mixed with want he’d seen in her eyes had called to something in him, something that was desperate to answer.
He’d screwed up bad.
She didn’t know their law. She didn’t know that this was all they’d be allowed. She was a seer, but she was still a sapien. He was a mage. They’d be separated one way or another. Either the brass would pull them apart or his name would end up on the Wall of the Fallen, like most of the other mages. And Jen was going to get hurt. She’d already been through so much, a lot of which he’d put her through, and he was going to add to her pain.
Guilt poured through him, hot and nauseating.
He’d failed again, in so many ways. After he’d lost Jas and Bren, he’d sworn that he would never fail like that again. But he’d just put Jen in needless danger. Anything could have snuck up on them while he’d been distracted. Why was he so dangerous to the people he cared about?
He couldn’t save his best friends. He hadn’t been the one to save his sister. He should stay as far away from Jen as possible if he wanted her to survive.
There had been shock and anger in Jen’s eyes as she’d turned her back to the fire and curled up in the sleeping bags. He was already hurting her. But maybe a little pain now was better than the pain she’d experience if they kept going down this path. It didn’t matter that the feel of Jen in his arms, his erection buried in her pussy was the best thing he’d ever felt in his life.
He should have told her there could never be anything real between them. Given the way they’d started out and everything that had happened, he hadn’t let himself hope for anything. Her desire had been a surprise, a beautiful surprise, but not one he’d prepared either one of them for.
Guilt squeezed his gut again and he shut his eyes to shut out the sight of Jen laying there, curled up in the sleeping bags, the messy remains of her black braid snaking down over the golden skin of that elegant neck.
Theron’s grip tightened on the pistol in his right hand, but he was careful to keep his finger off the trigger. He was going to make it up to Jen by keeping watch over her tonight. And he was going to keep his hands to himself for the rest of this gods forsaken trip, damn it.
He focused his eyes on the gap in the wall and opened his other senses, alert to the smallest indication that something was approachi
ng.
***
Jen awoke to the most heavenly smell. Thinking it was the remnants of a particularly lovely dream, she opened her eyes slowly, only to find that it was real. A steaming plastic mug sat on the ground beside her and it was filled with what could only be—
“Coffee!” she shouted. Snatching up the mug, she sat up and brought the mug to her nose, inhaling deeply.
The sleeping bag slipped down to her waist and she remembered that she was naked as the cold morning air hit her breasts. She yanked it back to her shoulder and took a tentative sip. It was hot and wonderful.
“Theron, you made coffee, you’re the—”
She’d been about to say, “You’re the best,” but then the events of last night came rushing back to her and she fell silent. As her cheeks flushed red with humiliation, she remembered that she was angry at him.
“Sorry, it’s just instant,” he said. “I found some packets hiding in one of the bags.”
He raised his own mug and took a sip. He’d dressed in a T-shirt and fatigue pants, his gun belt firmly in place and another pistol holstered under his arm. The term “Loaded for Bear” came to mind.
He’d also shaved at some point, she noticed. And he had the unmitigated audacity to look really good. You couldn’t even tell he hadn’t slept. Fucker.
“I should probably get dressed,” she mumbled. Without even asking, he rose and handed over her bag. Damn him.
“I’ll give you a minute,” he said, heading over to the SUV where he started loading a few things in the back.
Using the sleeping bag as a shield she scooped up the package of wet wipes Theron had tossed her last night. Pulling one of the hated things out, she swiped under her arms, repeating the process in other areas with fresh wipes. When she was done, she threw the wipes into the fire and watched them burn with a tiny bit of glee.
Digging out her last fresh set of clothes from her bag, she was dressed in record time. She shook out the tangled mess of her braid and ran her travel brush through it before she twisted it back into a new braid. A couple minutes with her toothbrush and she was ready to rock.
After she rolled up the sleeping bags, trying hard the whole time not to think about what they’d done in them last night, she threw them and her messenger bag in the back seat and climbed in the passenger seat without saying a word.
She was going to keep her fucking mouth shut today. Conversation was reserved for people who hadn’t humiliated her down to her core. God, how could she have been so stupid? Why had she come on to him? He was gorgeous, yes, and touching him felt really, really good, and the sex, well...but that move had been beyond dumb. And he’d certainly shown her the error of her ways with his quick exit last night.
What had she done wrong? Was she that bad at sex? Was she that out of practice? Maybe he didn’t appreciate the come on? Why had she told him she liked him? He seemed like a total alpha, maybe he needed to be the one to make that move? Had it been when she’d dropped her guard, just a little, and let him see her feelings in her eyes?
Stop it! She ground the mental wheels of her thoughts to a halt and threw it in reverse. Anger flowed through her and wrapped itself around her like a familiar, well-worn blanket. She would not think that way. He would not make her think that way.
If he didn’t like the way she got down, if he couldn’t deal with feelings, well, fuck him.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she settled back in the passenger seat and prepared herself for a long, quiet ride to Damascus.
***
Great, she was furious with him.
As Theron climbed into the SUV, Jen was already buckled in, arms crossed, jaw set, eyes straight ahead.
Honestly, he didn’t really blame her. He was still pretty angry at himself over last night and the danger he’d put them both in because of his lack of judgment and control. Not to mention the fact that he had violated, like, the second most important rule for mages.
Rule number one: don’t turn evil.
Rule number two: don’t form romantic attachments to sapiens. Seer or not, she wasn’t a mage.
Before he shut the vehicle’s door, he concentrated on the fire, which was still burning low in the makeshift fire pit. He called the energy of the fire back into him, spooling it up and feeling the warmth of it take up residence in the vicinity of his diaphragm. When there was nothing left but blackened wood, he closed the door and fired up the SUV.
Jen wasn’t talking to him, and that was fine. He’d need his concentration for the road today. They were heading into extremely dangerous territory. Several hundred miles of empty desert separated them from their destination.
It was this part of Highway 1 between Rutba and Damascus that had earned this stretch the nickname Highway to Hell. They might run into bandits, ISIS operatives, Syrian rebels, and who knew what else between here and the border and Theron wasn’t so sure Jen could talk their way past them again, especially without anything left to bribe them with because he wasn’t about to hand over any of the guns, ammo or explosives in the back.
Her press badge might get them past the border guards. They both had their visas in order, thank the gods. Even though his was fake, he wasn’t worried about a Corps forgery standing up to scrutiny.
It was probably the stretch of highway between the border and Damascus that he was most worried about. Reports had ISIS and rebel forces clustered to the north around Homs and Aleppo, but that was no guarantee. A Syrian fighter plane had been shot down by shoulder mounted rocket just a couple of weeks before near the Ad Dumayr air base, which their route took them right by. Reports were unclear if it had been rebel or ISIS forces that had taken the shot.
Rebels they could deal with. Jen had told him during the drive from Fallujah to Ramadi, that she had spent a few days with rebel forces some months ago in the northern part of Syria while she’d been reporting a story. She could drop some names if she had to, even had a couple of cell phone numbers for top commanders if they needed them.
Theron wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when he looked over at Jen, she’d fallen asleep, her obsidian lashes resting against her cheeks. He was suddenly worried that she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. Hell, she probably hadn’t gotten any real sleep for several nights. Totally his fault. Add it to the ever-increasing tally of things he had to feel guilty about.
He suspected, though, that Jen hadn’t gotten a healthy amount of sleep for a long time before he’d shown up. Those dark circles had been there when he’d met her.
That would change when they got where they were going. Once they were safe behind the underground walls of the Citadel, he’d make sure she got enough rest. Without warning, an image popped into his head. It was Jen, and she was lying in a bed. His bed. The one back at his ranch in Texas.
Her black hair was loose, spilling over the white cotton of his sheets and pillows. The sheets clung to her in all the right places, because in this vision she wasn’t wearing anything but the soft smile that curled her lips as she slept. She looked like she was having a nice dream.
The enormous bed was made of polished cedar posts and was big enough to sleep a family of five normal sized people, or just him, with enough room for one other person. Maybe. If they were small.
Jen is small, his brain pointed out unhelpfully.
Shut up brain, where were you eight hours ago when I needed you? he thought.
Being overridden by his other, smaller, more southern brain, that’s where.
Theron sighed and looked at Jen again, pushing away his little fantasy. It was really dangerous to start thinking like that. Forbidden, in fact.
He understood why relationships between sapiens and mages were forbidden. Secrecy was the only way the shadow races would ever survive. Mages, shifters, and especially vampires just weren’t prolific subspecies. Nature liked balance, and the low birth rates were the trade off for the physical advantages.
As for the elves and the fey races, immigration was tightly controlled f
rom the Fey Realms for the same reason, to maintain balance.
If the sapiens ever found out about the existence of the shadow races in their midst, the sapiens would vastly outnumber them. And judging by sapien history, every member of the shadow races would be rounded up and, best case scenario, locked up. He didn’t even want to think about the worst case scenarios, but he’d seen documentaries about the Holocaust, and that was what sapiens did to their own people.
And because the mages were not a prolific subspecies, it had been stressed to them all from day one that it was their duty to keep the bloodlines pure and produce more little mages to keep the balance and provide future protectors for the shadow races.
Jen would never see his ranch and she’d certainly never sleep in his bed. He wouldn’t be the one to worry about how much sleep she got or if she was eating enough.
When they got to the Citadel she would become a well-guarded, highly-paid instrument. The Council would insure that she was never unprotected.
Theron knew that it wasn’t safe for her out in the world on her own anymore, but he worried about how her new life was going to sit with her. Jen was strong, fiercely independent and valued her freedom. She’d never go anywhere without an armed escort again, and she was going to hate that.
She’d probably have to give up reporting. He really had ruined her life.
Better this than dead, he told himself, keeping his eyes locked on the faraway desert horizon. He was almost convinced.
Chapter 12
“For the fifth time, I’m her private security contractor,” Theron told the border guard, tapping his passport and visa paperwork.
Jen translated his words to Arabic, but used more diplomatic language and hoped the guard couldn’t pick up on the snark in Theron’s tone.
She and Theron were standing outside the SUV in an open parking lot, the squat building that housed the border guards, the checkpoint and a few offices set back several yards. Six guards were searching the SUV and Jen had to fight the urge to keep glancing nervously at the vehicle. Theron assured her that the compartments hiding the guns, ammo and explosives were undetectable. She hoped he was right. If those guards found the small arsenal they were carrying, they’d be arrested and charged with gun running. In the current political climate in Syria, they’d be lucky to see the inside of a jail cell. More likely, they’d be shot on the spot.