When Stars Collide

by Aliyah Burke

“He’s one of my best friends.”

  She rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. “I know. But you still didn’t have to come all this way.”

  Yes, he did. But now wasn’t the time to address that fact.

  “Come on, Zémire. Time for some sleep.”

  He stepped closer and with an easy manoeuvre swept her up in his arms. She struggled for about five seconds before her body sank into him. The feel of her against him made things right. With the warm glow of the setting sun streaming in through the windows, Cort carried her effortlessly to her bedroom and laid her back upon the orchid bedspread. He toed off his shoes as he removed her hiking boots, then spooned with her, his arm draped across her midsection, keeping her firm ass pressed tight into his groin.

  The one time she made like she would move away, he tightened his hold until she relaxed back. He remained awake until she fell asleep, a feat that didn’t take long. Once her breathing had deepened and smoothed out, he allowed himself the rest his body desperately craved as well.

  Zémire couldn’t explain the security that cocooned her when she woke. It was almost totally dark, though the beginnings of dawn had started to shove back the night. She stirred, only to stop when the arm across her midsection halted that movement.

  A man? She tensed slightly before the memory of Cort carrying her to bed flashed through her mind. His deep breaths blew softly along the back of her neck and she fought the urge to turn in his hold. With slow, cautious moves, she slipped from the warmth his body created that had surrounded her.

  Well, I’m still dressed, so I’m guessing nothing happened between us again.

  She rolled her shoulders and crept to the door before ducking through and drawing it closed after her. With a sigh, she sank back against the hard wood and closed her eyes. In bright and vivid clarity she drifted back to the night she had spent in Cort’s arms. How good he’d made her feel, each touch and each caress better than the last. He’d taken her to the edge of anything she’d experienced before only to carry her further.

  On quiet feet she meandered to the living room and reached for her bag, grabbed it and continued on to the bathroom where she showered and dressed in the clothes from the backpack. Finished, she started some coffee before stepping outside to take in the smells of early morning, when everything was crisp and clean.

  “Zémire?”

  She stiffened slightly as Cort’s voice sailed up from behind. He pressed along her back and ran his hands up her arms.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  His answer was to trail his lips along the curve of her neck and nibble her shoulder. Her insides trembled and she fought the urge to tilt her head, offering easier access. She could feel the hard length of his shaft digging into her.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured in between feather-light kisses.

  Her body reacted instantly, growing damp and pulsing with a longing she knew only he could vanquish. She struggled to hold onto her control but each lick, every nip and swipe of his tongue whittled it away until she had none left. He knew the moment it vanished, for he reeled her around and plundered her mouth with his.

  Oh, shit!

  Synapses exploded out of control and with a sigh of submission she gave in. His taste flooded her and, unlike the last time he had kissed her, she allowed it to overflow her senses and fill her. Arms snaked along his sides and her fingers dug into his bare shoulders, drawing him in as close as she could.

  Her nipples tightened, pressed against the shirt and into his chest. He released a low growl and pressed one hand on her back while the other cupped her ass, bringing her up close to the rigid erection in his jeans.

  He ate at her mouth like a starving man. Tasting everything and searching everywhere. She rubbed against him, craving more. Needing more. She melted even more when he moved his mouth down and began to trail kisses along her neck to the edge of her tank top, right over her breasts.

  “Zémire,” he said.

  His thick Texas drawl flowed over her, slow and heavy, like warm melted caramel, making her toes curl. Goosebumps burst out along her skin and she could feel the moisture gathering between her thighs. Her gut clenched and her clit began to throb.

  She couldn’t find the words so she lifted a leg and hooked it around his middle. Cort did the rest. Palmed her ass and hoisted her up so she could wrap her other leg around him. Once she sat secure, he covered her mouth and, it seemed, sucked all the air from her lungs.

  Before she knew it Cort had them inside and back to her bed where, despite the ferocity and intensity of his kiss, he placed her down with infinite gentleness. There in the low lamplight she could see the set of his chiselled features, his blue eyes stormy with raw desire. It was a heady feeling to know she did that to him. A man whom she’d desired since school and who hadn’t seen fit to give her the time of day.

  He undressed her slowly, peeling each layer of clothing away with a strange, almost reverent look on his face. Lying there naked with him staring at her, she shifted.

  “What?”

  “You’re so beautiful,” he uttered.

  She blushed and dropped her eyes from his. He dragged a finger down her sternum and between her breasts to stop at her belly ring.

  “This,” he said, kissing above and below her belly button, “is very intriguing. What is it?” His tongue slid along her bared flesh, making her pant with longing.

  He expected her to think while his mouth did wicked things to her? She whimpered as her belly clenched tight.

  “A…a…cosmic mood belly ring.”

  She jumped when he sucked on the skin by her left hip. He pressed her back. “Mood? It’s red. What’s this ruby red colour mean?”

  She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her mind was screaming for release and all he seemed content to do was torment her more. One large hand moved lower and brushed over the tightly clipped curls between her legs, calling forth more moisture. His fingers trailed down the slit and she bucked against his hand, trying to get the contact she was desperate for.

  “Colour, Zémire, what does it mean?” he asked as his mouth slowly pulled a pebbled nipple in and grazed it with his teeth.

  “I…oh…it…ummm…” she babbled as more wetness flowed.

  “Hmm?” he hummed, vibrating the sensitive tip still caught in his mouth.

  She tried to focus but then he sank one finger in her heated core, sliding easily through the thick cream. “Cort!” she gasped, arching again.

  After he brushed her clit with a knuckle, he withdrew his finger and released her breast with a pop. Her eyes flew open and she found him staring down at her with primal hunger in his gaze. He never looked away just continued to observe her and sucked her dew off his finger.

  “You taste as good as you smell, Zémire. I can’t wait to eat more.”

  Cort lowered his head and shared with her, her very own taste. Combined as it was with his, it was heady and addictive. Her lids fluttered and she pressed up into his chest, his warm skin and chest hair further tantalising her. The material of his jeans slightly rough upon her legs as she rocked back and forth beneath him.

  Spikes ricocheted through her while he teased her nipples, tugging on them and rolling the tips between his forefinger and thumb. Blood boiling she slid her arms around his neck and drew hard on his invading tongue. Breaking the kiss so she could talk, Zémire arched into him again.

  “Cort, please.”

  He stripped off his remaining clothes in no time. She rose up on her elbows to watch him. Golden tanned all over, Cort stood there full of roped muscles. His thick, hard cock jutted out at her from a nest of darker blond hair. The large mushroom head had a few pearl drops on it and she licked her lips. The man was magnificent.

  “Come here,” he ordered in a gruff tone.

  She rolled to her side, got up on her knees, and moved towards him. Before he could do or say anything else she reached out and curved a hand around his cock. Velvet over steel. Silk over iron.
She sighed and stroked him, enjoying the opportunity to explore him like she hadn’t had their previous time together. He hissed and his hips jerked, thrusting his length deeper through her hold.

  “Zémire.”

  Lifting her gaze, she saw danger in his. His blue eyes sparked with it and she knew he retained a very miniscule hold on his control. She gripped him harder and watched his eyes darken even more. Her thumb smeared the precum along the tip of his shaft and placed her other hand on him as well.

  “Cort,” she whispered back, sucking her thumb clean.

  He wound one hand in her hair and tugged her head back and held her gaze. “Tell me you want this, Zémire. Tell me you want me.”

  “I want you, Cort. I want you to fill me full with your cock like you did in Texas. Make me feel things no one else ever has.”

  Another two shades darker went his eyes. “And none will.”

  He slammed his mouth over hers, thrusting his tongue deep within, stroking the sides, top, and everywhere he could reach. Another jolt lanced her when without warning two fingers slipped up inside her, stretching her.

  “You’re so fucking wet, Zémire. Hot, tight, and wet.”

  Stars floated before her eyes as he pumped his fingers back and forth, scissoring them and hurtling her towards the edge of any reason. Her hands fell away and grabbed at his shoulders. He laid her down again and settled between her spread legs. A whimper of frustration escaped when his fingers withdrew only to become a sigh of contentment when the large head of his shaft settled at her opening.

  He pressed forward, filling her inch by solid inch until he sat fully embedded within her heat. Lower lip caught between her teeth, she released a purr and fixed her gaze upon him. His jaw clenched as he held still for her to adjust to his size.

  “Merde sainte,” she uttered as he withdrew only to slip forward again, threatening to send her body into hyperdrive.

  “I hope that’s a good thing,” he replied, his mouth by her ear where he licked the shell.

  “Most definitely.”

  She relegated her hands to curl around his shoulders. Cort nuzzled the side of her neck and continued his infinitely slow, torturous pace moving within her. He thwarted each of her attempts to go faster.

  “Nice and easy, Zémire. There’s no rush, let me enjoy your body.”

  His tone was deep, rasped, and sent more quavers through her. No man should have a voice like that—if this was how Lucifer sounded it was no wonder he got so much. Her cream slid around his thickness and he rumbled his approval.

  “Cort.”

  Back and forth he worked his hips, giving her what she craved only to take it away the next second. Her body burned from the inside out. She tried to get him to go faster and take away the need but he easily held her where he wanted her.

  She nipped his shoulder and felt him shudder. Readjusting so her feet were flat on the mattress, she arched up on his withdrawal, tightened her internal muscles and rolled her hips.

  “Shit,” he bit off.

  “Faster.”

  He complied and increased his speed. In and out. Faster. Harder. Deeper. Cort pounded into her. She closed her eyes and moved with him, undulating her hips and asking for more. Her skin tingled and she could feel her orgasm sweeping down upon her.

  “Cort…please…I…”

  “Open your eyes, Zémire. I want to look into those beautiful eyes when you come all over my cock.” His hands threaded into her hair and pulled when she didn’t immediately comply. “Open your eyes.”

  It wasn’t easy but she managed to drag them open. Sweat ran down his face and his eyes glowed with feral lust. Holding his gaze, she tightened her pussy and hooked her ankles around his waist, keeping her lower half off the bed.

  “Goddamnit,” he bit off.

  “Let go, Cort. I want it all.”

  A flash in his eyes should have warned her but before she had time to think, her legs were draped over his shoulders and he pounded into her without mercy. Her body hummed with pleasure and she came with a rush and a scream.

  “Cort!”

  In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Three more times he powered into her before coming with a low roar of his own, pouring his release over her womb.

  He fell, almost crushing her, only to catch himself at the end and kiss her. She could feel the erratic beat of his heart against her chest as his tongue rubbed along hers. When the kiss ended, he buried his face into the side of her neck. She closed her eyes and held him to her, one hand stroking along his sweat-dampened hair. Each breath brought to her nose the scent of their joining. Silence broken only by their ragged breaths filled the small room.

  Exhausted physically and emotionally she closed her eyes and with Cort pressed tight to her drifted off to sleep. When she woke, it was with a scream as she came hard as a result of Cort settled between her legs and feasting on the cream from her body. He took her again then they fell back to sleep, naked, sweaty limbs intertwined.

  The next time she woke it was time to get ready to go. So they showered and got to the airport. Her body stiff and sore, she pressed a kiss to Cort’s cheek and headed through to her gate.

  Chapter Four

  Zémire sighed deeply. She didn’t remember flights being this comfortable. But she was. In fact she must be having the most delicious dream of Cort because she would swear she could smell his aftershave. Shifting slightly, she opened her eyes and found herself curled up on the shoulder of the man next to her. The plane was mostly dark and she found it hard to see his face. Heat flared up hers and she moved away.

  “S'il vous plaît excuser mes manières, que je suis si désolé pour l'utilisation vous comme un oreiller,” she whispered, apologising for her behaviour. She’d never done that before, one of the reasons she took window seats so she could use the side of the plane to lean on. Thank goodness it was dark enough he couldn’t see her blush.

  “I told you I didn’t speak French, Zémire. What’d you say?” Cort’s voice was as low as hers had been.

  “Cort?” Her heartbeat increased and her palms grew sweaty just at the thought.

  “Right here, sweetheart.” He draped his arm around her, reining her back in close.

  “What are you doing here? On this flight? That seat?”

  “Professional courtesy,” he replied, brushing his lips along her forehead. “What’d you say?”

  She smiled and rested her head against him. “I asked forgiveness for my manners and using you as a pillow.” Somehow it made her feel special that he would use his badge as a nudge to get a flight and seat with her. As opposed to freaky, which is how it would be if I hadn’t fallen for him way back when.

  “I for one, happen to like you using me as a pillow.” He tucked the blanket tighter around her. “Now, go back to sleep. We still have a long way to go.” His mouth brushed her ear when he added, “Unless you’d like to become a member of the mile-high club with me.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be doing that kind of thing on a plane.” No matter how wonderful it sounded.

  “Then we sleep.” He didn’t sound at all put out by her refusal.

  There was no strength for arguing and she did as he said, knowing full well she would need to be rested for there was no telling what she would find back at BB’s house.

  When the plane landed in Texas she felt rested. It didn’t last however. When Cort drove her up the gravel road to her brother’s house—her parents’ house when they’d been alive—her belly began to knot up and bile hovered. This was so different from the last time she’d been here. For his birthday.

  Has it really only been two months since I was here last?

  She swallowed and gazed around. Nothing looked out of place. Cort shut off his truck and got out before opening the door for her. He preceded her to the door where he took the keys from her and unlocked it. She watched him as it swung in. He appeared poised and ready for anything. She remained quiet and let him do his protective male thing.

  “It’s clear
,” he said once he rejoined her on the first floor.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, plunking down her bags. “For everything, Cort. I mean it.”

  “Zémire,” he began, cupping her shoulders, “I have to go but I’ll be back later to check on you.”

  Part of her wanted him to stay but part wanted to be alone. So with a nod she gave him a small smile. “Au revoir, Cortland Kysenzki.”

  He stepped in close and brushed his lips over hers. Once. Twice. And again a third time. Reaching into his pocket he withdrew a card and gave it to her. “This has my cell on it, you call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “Right.” She curved her fingers over the edge of the plain white card but kept her eyes on him. Her heart melted a bit more when he swiped a thumb along her cheekbone.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Put that number in your phone right away.”

  One final alight of his mouth upon hers and he left the house without a single look back. She followed his departure with her eyes and only when she could no longer see the taillights of his green Dodge Dually did she shut the door to the house.

  She managed to keep herself together until she dropped her bags on the floor of her room. The room she’d grown up in, the room her brother had kept the same—as her parents had—since he’d got the house. Suddenly it was all too much and she gave in. Zémire stumbled over to the full size bed and fell face first onto the quilt, tears streaking down her face.

  Thirty minutes of lying there crying was all she allowed herself. Then she pushed up, showered and changed then walked from her room through the main level to where her brother now occupied the master bedroom. She paused with her hand on the door briefly before taking a deep breath and walking in. The room looked tossed and had she not been well versed in how her brother actually lived, she would have left and called Cort.

  Cort. Just his name evoked memories she shoved back to the furthest recess of her mind. Not that they stayed there but she tried. As she wandered through BB’s room, her thoughts returned to one Cortland Kysenzki.

  “What the hell was I thinking getting involved with him? I must be insane,” she admonished herself.