He ignored the plea, moving downward from her breasts to her belly and then lower, nibbling along the inside of first one thigh and then the other. She knew where he was going and struggled against it half heartedly, wanting to feel his mouth on her there and at the same time unwilling to give up the chance to cum with him deeply inside of her.
He didn’t give her the choice. He pushed her thighs apart and covered her nether lips with his mouth, parting them with his tongue and dragging it along her cleft in a way that left fire in its wake. Electric tremors went through her when he found her clit at last and tugged at it with his lips, strummed it with the tip of his tongue until she thought she would lose her mind.
She arched against him, writhed beneath him with the fires burning her up from the inside out, gasping for breath. Her body burgeoned, tightening until she ached all over. From one moment to the next she struggled against the release she could feel building, and struggled toward it. She wanted it, needed it. She wanted him inside of her more.
He ceased abruptly, shifting over her and aligning his cock with her opening with a feverish haste that spoke of his own imminent release. She groaned as she felt him ramming his engorged flesh inside of her in a series of short incursions and retreats that drove her over the edge almost the instant he filled her completely. She dug her nails into his arms as the first convulsion hit her, uttering a high pitched cry of rapture.
She heard his teeth grinding together as if he was struggling for control, felt tremors begin to run through him as he sought the pace and rhythm he needed. A groan that sounded almost more agonized than filled with pleasure escaped him. He shuddered, drove deeply inside of her and she felt his cock jerk inside of her with his own spasms of release.
Satisfaction filled her as her own climax reached its crescendo and began to dissipate in warm shivery waves of repletion. She clung to him as the tension abandoned her body along with her strength, gasping for breath.
She felt the tension go out of him, as well, felt him begin to sag more and more heavily against her. Finally, he rolled off of her and dragged in a deep, shuddering breath. Deprived abruptly of his heat and nearness, she rolled toward him to drape herself limply across him.
“Mmmm,” she murmured in satisfaction, brushing her lips lightly along his chest. “I could get used to this, very used to it.”
He tensed. Surprised, she lifted her head to look up at him.
He stared back at her for a long moment, his eyes glittering with some emotion she couldn’t quite grasp. Disentangling himself from her, he rolled to the edge of the bed and got up, took two quick strides, and then abruptly crashed face first on the floor with an impact that shook the furniture in the room.
Gaby bolted upright, gaping down at his prone form in shock.
“What do you mean by that?” Anka growled, dragging her gaze from the body on the floor.
Gaby blinked, a jolt going through her as she saw Anka standing over the prone man, his hands planted on his hips, his face taut with anger.
After glancing blankly from him to the man, she scrambled out of the bed to examine the man, tugging at his shoulders to try to roll him over. It was useless. He was far too heavy for her to budge him. “What did you do that for?”
Anka’s eyes narrowed.
Shaking her head in confusion, Gaby dragged her gaze from his and checked the man for injury. He was breathing, which was a great relief, but he seemed to be unconscious, and she could see that he’d bloodied his nose when he hit the floor so hard. He hadn’t even attempted to break his fall, she realized. He must have been unconscious when Anka had abandoned him.
Getting to her feet, she headed to the bathroom to get a cold washcloth to staunch the bleeding. Anka grabbed her arm as she started past him, dragging her to a halt. “Where are you going?”
Gaby frowned at him, tugging at her arm. “To get something to stop the bleeding. I think he might have broken his nose when he fell.”
“You have great concern for his little hurts,” he growled in an accusing note.
Gaby’s jaw sagged in surprise. “What are you talking about?”
He studied her face for a long moment and abruptly released her, transferring his gaze to the man on the floor. A shaft of uneasiness went through her when she saw the look on his face, but she shook it off and hurried into the bathroom to grab a washcloth and soak it in cold water. Grabbing her robe off its hook on the bathroom door, she shrugged into it and tied the belt around her waist, then wrung the excess water from the cloth and headed back into the bedroom.
Both Anka and the man had disappeared, she discovered, coming to a halt in surprise. After staring around the room blankly for several moments, she left the bedroom and traversed the short hallway to the living area and then, when she didn’t see them, went into the kitchen.
The apartment was empty save for her. Thoroughly confused, Gaby returned to the bedroom finally and settled weakly on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out what had just happened.
Anka was displeased with her. That much seemed indisputable, but she had no idea why. She got up after a few moments and dabbed at the blood spots on the floor to clean the carpet and returned to the bathroom to rinse the cloth. There was still no sign of either man when she’d finished, and finally she returned to the bathroom to bathe and dress.
The kitchen was still a wreck from Anka’s cooking efforts. She busied herself cleaning up, sampling a bite of the food here and there as she cleaned and disposing of most of it. She hadn’t eaten, but she discovered she wasn’t really hungry.
Anger began to displace the tension and confusion after a while because the longer she thought over Anka’s anger, the more guilty she began to feel and she disliked that feeling. She wasn’t even sure of why she felt it beyond the accusation she’d sensed in his behavior.
She hadn’t done anything wrong, she kept telling herself, but she felt as if she had.
After wandering around her apartment for hours, trying to think of something to do to occupy herself when she’d gotten out of the habit of doing so, Gaby finally gave up and went to bed, still feeling vaguely affronted, uneasy, and guilty. She lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling while she went over and over everything that had happened between them and everything that had been said, looking for some clue.
No explanation beyond jealousy occurred to her, no matter how hard she examined everything, and she dismissed that because it just didn’t make any sense. Aside from the fact that Anka had made it clear he expected her to grow accustomed to the form he’d chosen—and, deep down, she had never actually lost the sense of betrayal she felt whenever she was with him in that guise—she couldn’t think of any way he could have misinterpreted anything she’d done or said.
Maybe it wasn’t her at all? She thought finally.
The man had awareness. Maybe it was something he had thought that had made Anka angry?
But, if that was the case, why had Anka behaved as if he was mad at her?
By the time Gaby got off work the following night, she was spoiling for a fight. The apartment was empty, though, when she arrived. After pacing a while, mentally rehearsing the tongue lashing she meant to give Anka the moment he appeared, she was slowly but surely brought to the realization that he wasn’t going to give her the opportunity to blast him with her temper.
That realization sent her emotions in two diametrically opposed directions at once. Depression descended upon her, undermining her sense of righteous indignation, and then completely irrational anger filled the void. Stalking into her bathroom, she bathed. Instead of preparing for bed as she usually did, however, she stomped to her closet and examined the clothing there for something suitable for a night out. Finding that she didn’t really have anything that currently suited her mood did nothing to improve it.
She was a respectable woman of science and had carefully chosen a wardrobe to reflect her position. She wasn’t about to go out in anything that screamed respectability, how
ever.
If Anka wanted to throw a jealous fit for no good reason, she’d damned well give him a good reason!
Abandoning the closet, she began a search through her chest of drawers and finally unearthed a pair of jeans that had passed beyond respectable to slutty when they’d become too tight and worn in some fairly indecent places. She had to lie down on the bed to fasten and zip them. Ignoring the little roll that blossomed over the waistband when she stood up, she searched until she found a collarless knit shirt she’d bought that she’d never worn because it was just a little more fitted than she liked. The placket down the front ended just above her sternum. After studying the effect bra-less and then with bra, she discarded the bra and unbuttoned the placket to the bottom. Her breasts looked fuller with the snug knit, and, in point of fact, looked as if they were on the point of spilling out the neck of the thing.
“Good!” she muttered, dragging a brush through her hair and then deciding to leave it loose instead of bundling it up in a neat little ball on the back of her head the way she usually wore it at work.
Finishing up with a pair of clogs, make-up, and a cloud of ‘come and get me’ perfume, she shoved cash and her ID into one of the pockets of the jeans and slammed out of the apartment.
The vague hope that she would run into Anka on her way out so that they could have a rousing good fight was dashed when she reached the sidewalk outside without incident.
After chewing her lower lip indecisively for several moments, she struck off toward the only nightspot she recalled in the area. It was several blocks from her apartment, but she was determined to have at least a few drinks before she headed home again—determined to look like she’d had a good time whether she did or not—and taking her car seemed unwise given her agenda. She could take a cab home.
Unless she caught a ride with someone.
It was late when she finally arrived at the night club. Her feet were already killing her from walking so far in shoes she wasn’t used to wearing and her clothes were clinging from the sweat she’d worked up in the brisk walk. Her body had heated up the perfume she’d unwisely applied a little too generously and she felt just a little lightheaded from the ‘tainted’ air.
The place was rocking, packed to the gills, she discovered with more than a little surprise since it was the middle of the week. It was lady’s night. Disconcerted when she found that out, she was already wondering if there was any point in the exercise when she got inside and discovered her timing was far better than she’d dared hope. Lady’s night only meant women could get in free and drinks were half priced till eleven, and ‘ladies’ were on the menu. Droves of men were jostling to get in.
“All righty then,” she muttered under her breath, uneasily glancing around the place in search of a spot to light.
She wandered around for a while, looking for a table that wasn’t occupied and finally found one that was tucked away in a corner. It wouldn’t give her much of a view, she realized, or anyone much of a view of her, but she settled there anyway, looking around expectantly for a waitress.
She’d just caught a glimpse of Anka—or a man she thought looked like him-- when a waitress zoomed up to the table to take her order, effectively blocking her view. Feeling breathless with the way her heart was hammering in her chest, Gaby looked at the women blankly for several moments, trying to decide what to order, and finally settled on a screw driver. When the waitress had darted off, she discovered the man had disappeared.
Maybe she was wrong? She hadn’t really gotten a good look at the tall blond near the bar.
She scanned the room anyway and caught another quick glimpse as he stopped to speak to a woman.
Her eyes narrowed, hurt and anger flashing through her. Her heart pounded a little harder. She’d just positively identified him when the waitress reappeared with her drink.
She’d lost all desire to stay by that time, but she paid for the drink and sat staring down at the liquid blindly.
So much for teaching Anka a lesson!
Dragging in a deep breath to compress the hurt crushing her chest, Gaby lifted the glass and took a large gulp. Fire coursed down her throat. The Vodka settled in the pit of her empty stomach like a pool of lava. A wave of dizziness rolled off of it, making her brain feel as if it had spun in her skull. Bracing herself against the dizziness, she took several more quick drinks of liquid courage and finally looked around again.
Acutely aware, now, of Anka winding his way through the throng at the other end of the bar, Gaby studied him through narrowed eyes, glancing away each time he lifted his head to look around. She wondered if he could sense the dagger gaze or if he was just looking over the selection of women and trying to determine which appealed to him most.
Angry and hurt, she determinedly looked around, as well. She wasn’t terribly impressed with the selection. The place abounded with women from passable to very pretty, but the men—average to below average—certainly nothing she could see that had the potential to make Anka feel the least threatened.
Ok, average it is, she decided, immediately lowering her standards and looking around for a man that at least had some physical appeal. The variety there was fairly wide—tall, short and everywhere in between, thin to downright pudgy, shaved heads to shaggy.
A big man was hunched over his drink at the bar. The knit shirt stretched across his broad shoulders looked promising. His profile wasn’t bad either, but there was something about the way he was hunched over his glass that set off warning bells. This one was either a dedicated drinker, or he was carrying way more baggage than she wanted to deal with.
Dragging her gaze from him, she finished her own drink while she took another survey.
Anka had moved onto the dance floor with a giggly blond that looked like she must have used someone else’s ID to get in the door.
The bastard!
The blond was all over him as the music moved into ‘bump and grind’ rhythm, rubbing her ass against his crotch one moment and then hunching his thigh.
Jesus fucking Christ! Gaby thought furiously. Was she going to fuck him on the dance floor?
Draining her glass, she got up a little unsteadily and looked around for the ladies’ room. Spying a lit sign, she threaded her way along the edge of the dance floor toward it, ignoring the speculative glances of several men along the way. She’d already entered a stall and unfastened her jeans to take a pee before it sank into her clouded mind that she’d had to lay down on the fucking bed to fasten them to start with. Trying not to panic, she finished and pulled them up again. She was sweating profusely and dizzy from holding her breath by the time she’d managed to fasten the pants and zip them. Weaving slightly, she left the stall and headed for the lavatory.
The mirror above it gave her an unpleasant jolt. The florescent light above the sink area washed the color from her face, at the same time deepening the shadows beneath her eyes and nose—and the lines on her face. The humidity had turned her hair into a wild, poufy tangle of frizzy curls.
She hadn’t brought a purse and therefore had no tools to even attempt to repair the damage—not that a brush and a pound of makeup, she thought dismally, would do the trick.
Trying to ignore the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as she compared her own visage to that of the teenyboppers around her, Gaby washed her hands and carefully patted the cool towel over her face. It didn’t help. The old hag in the mirror was still there when she took the towel down again, and her spirits had gone down the toilet, as well.
Tossing the paper towel into the trash, she headed out of the ladies room with nothing but escape on her mind. Her preoccupation cost her. She slammed full tilt into a man and bounced away again. He caught her arms to steady her.
“Sorry! Excuse me!” she muttered without looking up.
“Where you going, baby?” he demanded, his voice slurring noticeably.
The voice was all too familiar, even with the deafening roar of music in her ears. Gaby’s head shot upward
in recognition before she could decide how she wanted to respond. He gave her a dopey grin.
Gaby glared at him. “Don’t you dare ‘baby’ me you asshole!” she snapped.
He blinked, staring at her owl eyed for a moment before a frown of confusion knit his brows. “You mad?”
Gaby gave him a look and pulled away. “You are so fucking observant!” she growled shoving past him and stalking toward the exit.
He caught up to her within a few steps. Grasping one arm just above the elbow, he guided her toward the exit. Gaby tried to shake his hand off, but he refused to release her. “Let’s go outside where we can talk.”
Gaby ground her teeth, more irritated that he was behaving as if it was his idea to go outside when she’d already been headed out.
And she had no desire to talk to him—ever again!
He pulled her to a stop when they’d exited the building, looking around as if searching for something. “Where’s your car?” he asked finally.
Gaby jerked at her arm again. This time he released it. “I walked,” she said tightly.
“I’ll take you home, then,” he said decisively, falling into step beside her as she struck off along the sidewalk.
“No you won’t! You’re drunk!”
He grabbed her arm again, using Gaby’s momentum to swing her around. He pulled her against his body as she swung toward him, caging her loosely in his arms. “Hey! What are you so pissed off about?”
Gaby braced her palms against his chest, looking up at him angrily. “Why don’t you think about it and … when you’ve sobered up enough to figure it out … go fuck yourself!” she suggested tightly.
He looked down at her with a mixture of anger, confusion, and amusement. “You’re jealous!” he observed, his lips tipping up at one corner.
“Oh! You are so full of yourself!”
He chuckled, drawing her closer in spite of her efforts to keep some distance between them.
A shadow fell across them.
Both of them looked up to see what had suddenly blocked the light.
Gaby felt her jaw slowly sag to half mast as she stared at the furious countenance of the hulking giant glaring at the two of them. It was the man from the bar, she realized dimly. He looked a lot bigger close up than he had when she’d been looking at him across the bar.
Alien's Concubine, The Page 12
