by Jane Hinchey
We were in the heart of the city now. The streets had multiple lanes, with heavy traffic. Daniel turned down a side street, into what looked like the parking garage of a multi-level building.
“You really do live in the city!”
“Yup.”
He pulled into a metal cage and turned off the engine. The cage closed around us before jolting once and descending. Peering out the window, I saw we were in a dimly lit car park several stories below the surface. The cage jolted to a halt, then slid sideways before again stopping, spinning around and, with a clang, releasing the car.
Parking sure had changed too.
We got out of the car and Daniel led the way to the lift, where he placed his palm on the control panel as the doors closed. We were whisked to the fiftieth floor.
“How high does the dome go?” I asked.
“As high as it needs to,” Daniel replied. “It keeps a two kilometre buffer between itself and the highest object, be that a building, a mountain, or whatever.”
“So it's not a solid structure?”
“No, although it looks like mesh to the naked eye.”
“What's it made of, then?”
“Sorry, can't divulge that.”
In the light of the lift, I studied my brother. He had the same build I remembered—tall and broad shouldered—but now he had a slight belly where once there had been rock hard abs. His full head of hair, once brown, was now streaked with silver, and his face was lined with age. But he was still my brother. Still Daniel.
He was studying me in return. My hair hung past my shoulders, almost to my waist, in a tangle of red curls. I rarely wore my hair down. I preferred to put it in a braid for work, or tie it up in a ponytail when off duty. As a kid, I'd always worn it loose, wild and messy. It wasn't until I was older, when I had my sights set on the police force, that I'd started wearing it up.
The black pants and jacket I wore were dirty and grubby, the boots scuffed, and I probably reeked something terrible. Although I couldn't smell myself, I wasn't about to lift my arm to take a whiff. It'd been many hours since my rain shower and I’d done a lot of walking and sweating since then.
The lift came to a halt and the doors opened directly into Daniel's apartment. The entrance was at the back, in a laundry room by the look of things. He led us through a passageway and into the living area.
A wall of floor to ceiling windows showed the glittering city beneath us, and I made a beeline for it, eager to take in the view. “Wow. Nice place!”
Alrik stayed by my side, silent, and I realised he'd not spoken a word since my brother had found us. Glancing at him now, I wondered what he was thinking. He was in a foreign world, away from everything familiar, much like I had been when we first met. Reaching out, I curled my fingers around his. He glanced down at me.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I am well. Do not worry.” He smoothed the frown lines between my brows with a rub of his thumb before his hand slid around to cup the nape of my neck. Leaning down, he rested his forehead against mine. “Don't let your brother see your back. I'm not convinced we can trust him.”
“What?” I pulled back, looking into his eyes. “But he's my brother!”
“He's a changed man, Sierra. Just be careful, that's all I ask.”
“I guess I should let you two get cleaned up.” Daniel's approach broke us apart. “If you want to take a shower, I’ll throw your clothes in the wash. I've got a couple of robes you can wear while you wait.”
“A shower would be divine!” I cried. “So you have water here? A good supply?”
“The dome precipitates two nights a week, which provides us with fresh water. We recycle the rest through our filtration plant.”
I nodded, glancing around the rest of the apartment. It was large and well laid out, with gorgeous furniture made from what I thought was leather. But since Earth no longer had animals, it must have been a synthetic substitute. Still, the lounge suite and dining chairs looked expensive, whatever the material it was made from.
“Your apartment is lovely,” I said. “Have you lived here long?”
“About five years now. Used to live in a smaller place a couple of blocks away.”
“Is it expensive? To live here, I mean?”
He shrugged, “Nothing to compare it to. I've got nothing else to spend my money on, so why not live somewhere nice?”
“Have you risen far in the force?”
“I’m an inspector now. I get a good salary, and with no wife and kids to support, well, the savings tend to accumulate.”
“Oh, Daniel. No one after Emily?”
“She was the love of my life, Sierra.” Daniel turned and looked out the window, at the thousands of lights twinkling below. “My soul mate. At first I didn't want to go on without her, didn't want to live. It was pure instinct that kept me going—helping others to acclimatise to living under the dome, quelling the panic, enforcing new rules and laws. A year passed. And another. And another. And here we are today, surviving.”
It was then that I noticed a picture frame sitting on a round table next to a black leather armchair. Two women smiled out of the photograph. Was that Mum? I snatched up the frame. Yes! Older than I remembered, but still the same. Mum had her arm around a beautiful, dark-haired woman.
“That's Emily,” Daniel said. “And Mum. It's the only picture I have. So much was lost.”
“How? You were protected under the dome.”
“Looters. There were riots. People wanted out. Didn't want to conform to the new way. It was a radical time.”
Tears welled in my eyes, the picture blurring. I hugged it to my chest.
“Can I visit her? Her grave?” I choked out.
“There are no graves,” Daniel said softly. “They dropped nuclear bombs, Sierra. Most bodies were obliterated, with nothing left to retrieve. And those who died afterward from the radiation fallout were left to rot where they lay. So no bodies, no graveyards, no cemeteries.”
Alrik wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest, holding me as I cried. All the time I'd been on his ship, I never dreamed I'd never see mum again. I'd worried about what the authorities would do, but not Mum. Mum loved me unconditionally, always and forever. To never be hugged by her again, never scolded, to never laugh together or breathe in her scent—even the thought that she'd never meet Alrik, the man I was falling for—well that was a thought to be examined another day. Right now, my heart was broken. All I wanted was my mum. And she was gone. Long gone.
I pulled myself together, scrubbing the tears from my cheeks. Carefully, I replaced the photo, unable to look at it for fear I’d burst into tears again.
“Right,” I said. “Shower. Lead the way.”
The bathroom was gorgeous, the floor tiled with what looked like black marble. Like Daniel’s furniture, I suspected it wasn't the real deal. The walls had a smooth quality, almost like plastic, and they were seamless, with a gradient shade of grey swirled throughout. The effect was stunning.
The toilet, hand basin, and shower were black, and looked pretty similar to what I was used to. I'd been worried technology had advanced so much that I wouldn't know how to use things, but these looked pretty standard, except for the lack of taps.
“They have sensors built in. Just put your hands there,” Daniel explained, pointing at the tap in the hand basin, “and the water will run. The temperature is pre-set to my preferences. I can change it if it’s too hot for you.”
“No, no, it's fine!” I assured him.
“And same with the shower. Just step in and the water will flow, step out and it will stop.”
Fluffy white towels hung from the towel rail on the wall. Behind the door hung a white fluffy robe.
“Let me get my robe for you, Alrik. You can borrow it while you’re here.” Daniel disappeared for a moment and returned with a dark grey robe. He hung next to the white one behind the door. “I'll leave you guys to it. You can argue who goes first. Or shower tog
ether, whatever. I'll be in the kitchen, rustling up some breakfast.”
The door closed behind him. I turned to Alrik, unsure, but before I could speak, his mouth was on mine. His hand cradled my throat, his thumb and fingers brushing over my jaw, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
I tore my mouth away, heat pooling in my belly. “We shouldn't be doing this.”
“Why not?” He dropped soft kisses across my cheek, nibbling toward my ear.
I tilted my head, giving him easier access. “We're in my brother's bathroom. You yourself said we might not be able to trust him. What if he's calling the authorities right now?”
“All the more reason to kiss you now, while I can.”
He growled, sending shivers down my spine, and I arched into him. His hand left my face to grip my hips, pulling me hard against him. I could feel the hot, stiff ridge of his arousal on my hip.
“Wait. Wait.” I pushed at his chest, torn between my body’s desires and my mind’s desperate screaming to slow things down. My heart was tied up in the mix, adding to the confusion. I really liked Alrik. Plus, he was as hot as hell.
But it wasn't too long ago that he’d held a gun on me, his training—his beliefs—almost ending my life.
Granted, he’d chosen not to pull the trigger, but confusion still clouded my thoughts. Could I trust him? Everything had changed. Everything was topsy turvy. Even I was changing—not just physically, but on another level entirely—and our situation here was perilous.
He eased back, still close but no longer touching. His dark eyes sparked with desire, his lips moist from our kiss. I closed my eyes on a groan. Just looking at him was undoing me.
“Relax,” he said, his voice gravelly and strained. “This has to be something you want. I would never force or coerce you.”
Reaching up, I pressed my lips to his, whisper soft. He didn't move, didn't ravish me or try and take control. Instead, he stood perfectly still and let me kiss him. It was heaven. I brushed kisses across his face, tasting his skin, feeling the rough stubble on his cheek, then angling down to his neck and gently nipping him.
I didn't realise I'd leant in closer until I felt the vibration of his quiet growl, but he kept still and let me explore him, even leaning down so I could reach him. He had to be uncomfortable, but he said nothing. Placing my palms against his chest, I slowly ran them down his rock hard body, stopping when I reached the hem of his jacket, my fingers fumbling with the unfamiliar clasp. I heard his breath hitch. He placed his hands over mine and guided me, the jacket releasing and parting in the front revealing, the soft material of the t-shirt he wore beneath.
“Take it off,” I whispered.
I watched as he shrugged out of the jacket and let it drop to the floor. I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn't meet them. I was too distracted by his body and the abs I knew were beneath that flimsy barrier of material. Boldly, I slid my hands under the hem of his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin. He sucked in a breath, trembling, and knew it was costing him to let me have control. I ran my hands all the way up, over his abs, brushing his nipples, then back down again.
“Take this off too,” I commanded.
As he pulled the shirt over his head, I caressed him with my fingers. My mouth traced a trail from his navel to his throat.
“Sierra.” It was a curse, gritted out through clenched teeth, but I wasn't ready to give up my power just yet. I was having way too much fun.
Somewhere along the way I'd made a decision. I was overwhelmed by him—his taste, his scent, his power. It leached into me and increased my desire tenfold. There was no turning back. He was mine.
It was like a dam breaking. The words echoed in my mind. He is mine. Mine. The power of it lit me up from the inside. I didn't understand what any of it meant. The feelings I had now—this need to claim him as my mate, my lover—were stronger than anything I'd experienced before. It was primitive and powerful. I couldn't fight it.
My fingers trembled, fumbling with their eagerness to get him naked. “Strip. Now!”
He obeyed my command without question. As he kicked off his boots and stepped out of his pants, I shed my clothes until we were both naked, facing each other, panting.
He was magnificent—his skin was flawless, his muscles bulging, his chest smooth and hairless, though a trail started at his navel and led down, down to where his desire for me was evident, thick and hard.
A rush of desire nearly brought me to my knees. Legs shaking, I reached out and rested my hand against his chest for support, as well as the need to connect with him, to touch him, to see if he was feeling what I felt.
He was. I knew it as soon as we touched. A bolt of electricity shot through my body and seared my nerve endings—not in pain, but pleasure.
“Alrik!” His name tore out of me on a gasp. I was unprepared for the strength my desire. I wanted him so bad that nothing would stop me now, even if the door burst open and the police piled in to arrest us. I didn't care.
“Sierra.” Hearing my name on his lips, the way his voice thrummed with need, was sweet relief.
He broke his frozen stance, reaching for me, his strong arms lifting me until we were chest to chest. I wrapped my legs around his hips, open and vulnerable, the scent of my arousal surrounding us. His mouth came down on mine. He devoured me, forcing my head back as his tongue clashed with mine, a duel as old as time, the movement mimicking other acts that had me rocking against him.
As we stepped into the shower stall, the water cascaded over us. The droplets were like needles on my over-sensitive skin, and I gasped. I could feel his erection pressing between us. I rubbed myself against him, a gentle rock that had us both groaning.
He tasted like chocolate and honeycomb, intoxicating and sweet. But a kiss wasn't enough. I wanted to touch and taste more of him—all of him—but I couldn't from my current position. He must have sensed my frustration, for he moved to pin me against the shower wall, using his weight to hold me there. I smoothed my hands across the heated skin of his chest, tracing his muscles, brushing my fingers across his nipples before lowering my head to lick and nibble at his neck.
A shudder ran through him. “Yes,” he growled.
He grabbed my wrists, pinning them to the wall above my head. His mouth captured mine in a desperate kiss before he pulled away, his gaze roaming over me, from my lips to my breasts to the most intimate part of me, and back. He moved one hand to capture a breast, brushing his thumb over my nipple. My hips jerked against him in response. Watching my face, he continued to brush and tease, switching breasts before lowering his head and sucking a nipple into his mouth.
“Oh my God. I could come just from that,” I gasped, rocking against him again, my body on fire.
“Not yet. I'm not done.”
His mouth found mine again and his fingers slid into me, my wetness offering no resistance as he stroked me before pushing a second finger inside. I arched my back and rode him, silently demanding more. Mouth never leaving mine, he adjusted his stance, and then I felt him, long, hard, and hot, pushing against my very core. I angled my hips to receive him, gasping when he slid into me in one stroke.
For a moment, he went still, giving me time to adjust, panting into my mouth. I'd never experienced anything more erotic.
“More,” I said.
I ran my fingers through his hair, tugging, trying to get him to move. He chuckled, obliging, thrusting into me, pushing me against the wall, again and again. The friction was intensifying, the scent of sex arousing me all the more. I moved with him, rocking back against him with each thrust, and he muttered words of encouragement.
“Harder,” I panted. “Faster. MORE.”
I was close to release, but he kept me dancing on the edge, slowing his pace when I was near. I didn't want to be near. I wanted to be over. I wanted to explode into a million orgasmic pieces. He grunted and buried his face in my neck, pushing harder, faster and faster.
I shattered. The orgasm that ripped through me was unlike
anything I'd felt before. Wave after wave pulsed through me, bathing me in sensations I couldn't describe. He kept pumping, throwing his head back and growling when he too found release.
I opened my eyes and glanced at Alrik, who was watching with fire in his eyes. I had no words. Instead, I dropped my head back against the wall and let the water flow over me.
Alrik slowly lowered my legs to the floor, holding me steady when they started to buckle.
“Besides the drenching in the rain earlier, have you ever showered in water before?” I asked.
He nodded. “I have. We have water on my planet. But we don't use it during space travel because of storage issues.”
“Oh.” I was a little disappointed. I'd hoped to have this first experience with him.
“But I've never showered with anyone before.” He grinned. “Let me wash you.”
It wasn't a question. He'd spied a soap dispenser behind me and held his hand beneath it. Sure enough, a generous stream of liquid soap landed in his palm. He rubbed his hands together to create a lather and then ran his hands over me, from my shoulders to my fingertips, back up to my collar bones, down over my breasts, stomach, hips, back up my sides.
Spinning me around, he repeated the sequence, from shoulders to fingertips, the nape of my neck to the small of my back. He paused to trace the pattern on my spine before dropping to his knees, wrapping his hands around one leg, from thigh to ankle and back, before repeating it on my other leg. I was trembling from his touch, aching for him to touch me where I needed it the most, surprised that I wanted him again so soon. Yet he avoided the most intimate parts of me. I placed my hands against the shower wall to hold my weight when my legs began to shake.
He stood, pressing in close, and his erection slipped between my cheeks. I groaned. I could feel his chest against my shoulders, his hands trailing up my sides, up my arms, until his hands covered mine, pinning me to the wall. His erection pressed against me and I scooted my feet apart wider to receive him. One of his arms went around my waist, lifting me as he pushed into me.
