Roping Savannah

by Jory Strong

  “So it could be reasoned that you are free to complete the binding ceremony and mate with Savannah at other times in your true form, as long as you do so in the portal chamber—which is not such a great distance from the city your bond-mate calls home.”

  “The Council—” Draigon started to say, ready to elaborate and expand on the intent behind the Council rulings but halting in favor of examining Lyan’s reasoning for flaws.

  He found none.

  All of Lyan’s points were valid. And though Draigon hadn’t shared the discovery of the human males carrying the Fallon gene sequence with Lyan, there was the added argument that Savannah’s brothers and cousins might carry the markers as well.

  Draigon had thought to claim Savannah and return to Belizair. He’d dismissed Earth as a backwater planet. Judged it as primitive. Resigned himself to a human bond-mate as though it was a terrible fate.

  He was not one to doubt himself or his judgments, to question his decisions, but he had already been proven wrong, had already discovered parts of himself hidden under layers of restraint and freed by Savannah’s teasing. The moment he’d seen Lyan and Adan’s mate Krista and then his own, he had understood why his ancient ancestors were drawn to Earth and the humans found there. True, it was more dangerous than their world, but he had served in other equally dangerous places. And though they hadn’t spoken of it, Kye seemed at ease on Savannah’s planet.

  With a clarity Draigon found hard to believe, Lyan’s suggestion made perfect sense. His answer the obvious solution.

  And as if sensing Draigon’s growing acceptance, Lyan leaned forward and said, “The Council drags their feet, clings to decisions made in the past. They open the door leading to our future an inch at a time. But we cannot afford to remain mired and surrounded by rules that no longer make sense. Our presence on Earth must grow stronger and we must make alliances among the humans we have ties to. We must use those connections to expand our search for those with the Fallon markers. There are too many on Belizair waiting for a bond-mate to be found and it is taking too long to do so. If hope dies, then we die.”

  “I will speak to Kye,” Draigon said, old habits lingering, making it impossible for him to tell Lyan that he was right in his arguments and conclusions.

  “You will speak to me about what?” Kye said from the doorway, startling both his co-mate and his cousin, though the sight of Draigon and Lyan huddled together in conspiracy had very nearly made Kye question the state of his mental health if not his physical health!

  The two men surged to their feet, greeting Kye with an embrace.

  Lyan left once he assured himself Kye was well. Draigon replayed the conversation with Lyan, shocking Kye with his willingness to defy the intent of Council law if not the law itself. But humor quickly rushed in and Kye couldn’t resist saying, “The humans have a saying that captures this perfectly. It is easier to gain forgiveness than to gain permission. Shall we return to Savannah?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Savannah finished doing the breakfast dishes as her grandfather shuffled a deck of cards in preparation for a marathon session of Texas Hold-em. Relief and a measure of happiness filled her. Her grandparents had taken to Holland. Had treated her like family as soon as Savannah brought her back to the Bar None.

  It was a start—to what, Savannah wasn’t sure. But for the moment, Holland was safe and neither the police nor child services were looking too hard for her. It was one less thing for Savannah to worry about, which was good. Because right now she felt like her life was on hold.

  “You joining us?” her grandfather asked as Savannah hung the dishtowel up.

  The nearly non-stop games of poker had been a welcome respite from thoughts of Draigon and Kye. But Savannah was too restless to join her grandparents and Holland at the table. “No, I’m going to go outside for a few minutes.”

  She saw her grandparents exchange a glance. They were worried about her. But what could she tell them? I fell in love with a couple of aliens? Or maybe they’re supernatural beings. I don’t know exactly what they are. But they protected me, fucked me, wanted to take me home with them—then one of them took a bullet for me and they disappeared, and the worst part of it is, I don’t know if he lived or died, or whether I’ll ever see them again. And even if I do see them again, I don’t know how it’s going to turn out.

  Savannah rubbed the wristbands. Finding comfort in the feel of them. Finding sanity in their existence. A physical proof that Kye and Draigon were real—though Holland’s questions about their whereabouts had also been reassuring.

  She walked down to the corral and leaned against the wooden fence, trying to internalize the tranquility displayed by a herd of ranch horses standing underneath several large trees. All of them still and calm, content, their only movement the flicking of their tails as they chased flies off sensitive skin.

  No matter how crazy life got, how hectic and busy and frustrating, the Bar None was Savannah’s refuge. She couldn’t live here anymore—at least not in her parents’ or grandparents’ houses, but it was still home in a way, still more of a home than her apartment.

  Savannah studied the wristbands. Again. She couldn’t get them off. Not that she wanted to. But in all the time she’d examined them, she’d yet to find a release mechanism. In fact, they felt so much a part of her that she had a feeling she’d panic if they ever came off.

  Sadness welled up inside Savannah. Confusion. Loneliness. Fear.

  She could go for hours able to convince herself that if Kye and Draigon could disappear into thin air—and apparently take Fowler with them—then surely Kye couldn’t be killed by a bullet. But then the doubts would start to slither in. Growing until sickness spread in her heart and soul. Until she was convinced he’d died. Until she was convinced she’d never see either of them again.

  A sob lodged in her throat. Making breath impossible until she’d managed to wall off the grief.

  She inhaled. A painful struggle against a tear-clogged throat.

  In front of her three foals began playing. Trotting and cantering in graceful, poetic movement against a Sierra backdrop. Their coats glistening, sleek and shiny underneath a peerless blue sky.

  The heaviness grew in Savannah’s chest. If she had to choose, if going home with Kye and Draigon was permanent, could she give this up? Could she give up her family? Would she be able to tell her relatives where she was going? Even for Kye and Draigon she couldn’t disappear into a black hole and leave the ones she loved to grieve and worry about what had happened to her.

  Savannah sighed and closed her eyes. Rubbed the heels of her hands in small circles on her forehead.

  Footsteps sounded behind her but Savannah didn’t open her eyes or turn around. She’d known it would be only a matter of time before her brothers arrived and wanted to hear about the shootout she’d been involved in at the truck stop.

  “Beloved,” Kye whispered, his voice nearly stopping Savannah’s heart, stunning her and trapping her in a moment of disbelief until she spun and saw him.

  There was no single thought, only a cacophony of images and questions, emotion, as she hurled herself into his arms. Pressing kisses all over his face. Her fingers desperately struggling with his shirt, tearing at it to reveal unblemished flesh.

  Tears coursed down her cheeks. A sob of happiness making it hard for her to speak. “I was scared you’d died,” she managed, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him as her lips and tongue assaulted his in a kiss that quickly merged into another, and then another, until her lungs burned with both emotion and the need for air.

  She became aware of Draigon’s presence but couldn’t make herself release Kye. She reached out and pulled Draigon to them, her hand rubbing up and down his side as their lips met in kiss every bit as needy and desperate as the one she’d shared with Kye.

  “You came back,” Savannah said, weak with so many feelings that she was glad they were holding her, keeping her from sinking to the ground.

&nb
sp; Draigon brushed his fingertips over her cheek and traced her lips. “Did you truly believe we wouldn’t?”

  “I didn’t know what to think. You just disappeared.”

  Kye nuzzled against her temple. “You wear our bands. You agreed to a binding ceremony.” He paused. “You agreed to go home with us.”

  Savannah’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. Raced so the blood thundered in her ears.

  She wanted to delay the conversation, to lead them into the barn and make love to them, to bury worries of the future underneath a passionate present. But Kye’s comment made it impossible. “I agreed to go home with you. But—”

  Kye halted her with the quick press of his mouth to hers. “It is enough that you agreed. And eventually you will see our world. But for now, there is work here. A life here for all of us.”

  “For how long?”

  Kye’s expression grew somber. “All hope for our people is here and there is much you can do to help us.”

  The “aliens come to Earth to impregnate females” science fiction movies she’d watched as a teen tried to play on the screen of her mind. “By getting pregnant?”

  Both Kye and Draigon smiled, masculine lips curving upward in anticipation. But before Savannah could say anything further, before she could become agitated, Draigon rubbed his hand over her belly, making her cunt clench and her womb flutter even as his words eased her. “Eventually, Savannah, but we are not anxious to share your attention with children. It is a decision we will make jointly when the time comes. Kye tells me birth control is practiced here. So we will wait. We will enjoy each other’s company until you are prepared to return home with us.” His face grew somber. “On this I can yield. But I cannot bear the thought of your putting yourself in danger each day.”

  Savannah stiffened. “You want me to quit my job.”

  Kye kissed his way to her ear, sending steel down her spine. Resolve. They’d used her body against her before—numerous times—but she didn’t want it to become the pattern that determined her future.

  Savannah tried to pull out of their grasp and found it impossible. She opened her mouth to demand they release her, only to still when Kye said, “We do not intend for you to sit at home. We want you to work with us.”

  “As a bounty hunter?”

  “Yes,” Kye said and she didn’t press him for details, though she could guess what bounty they were hunting.

  Savannah closed her eyes. She’d become a cop because she wanted to make a difference. Because she wanted her life to mean something.

  “Go through the binding ceremony with us,” Kye said. “Learn who we really are. And if you decide you do not wish to work with us, we will accept your answer and do our best to keep you safe as you go about your work as a law officer.” He nibbled her ear. “But I think you will find there are compensations to spending your days working at our side.” He smiled against her skin. “Or beneath us. Or on top of us.”

  Savannah opened her eyes and gazed into his, seeing his teasing sincerity, his love. His optimism and hope. His confidence. Seeing much of the same when she turned her head slightly and looked at Draigon. Though Draigon was less sure, less at ease, and it made her heart smile, made her lean in and kiss him, a lingering exploration of masculine softness and hardness.

  She loved them both so much. More than words could express.

  They’d taken her by storm. Overwhelmed her body with a riot of passion. Intruded on her thoughts so time and time again she found herself thinking about them, wanting to share what was on her mind with them, revisiting the memories she had with them.

  They’d filled the empty place in her soul. Claimed her heart. Completely. Totally. Irrevocably.

  “Okay,” Savannah said. “Okay.”

  Draigon’s hand tightened on her side then left it to take possession of her arm, to bring the wrist with his band on it to his lips. “You will complete the binding ceremony with us?”

  Savannah’s heart flipped over at his vulnerable expression. “Name the time and place,” she said, curling her hand so it cupped his cheek, unable to keep herself from lightening the mood by teasing, “As long as it doesn’t involve Elvis, I’ll be there for the ceremony. I draw the line at Elvis.”

  “Elvis?”

  Kye laughed and sent the image of a dead singer to Draigon, along with a message, I will explain it to you later. Or our bond-mate will. But for now I am in favor of returning to the transport chamber.

  As am I.

  Draigon leaned into Savannah, wishing he could pull her completely into his arms but understanding her need to cling to Kye. Accepting it. Finding he had no jealousy or anger in his heart. Finding instead a nearly overwhelming love for this remarkable human woman who was their mate and would one day give them children. “Beloved, will you leave with us now?”

  She glanced at the house a short distance away, for the first time wondering if her grandparents and Holland had seen Draigon and Kye’s arrival and the heated kisses that had followed. “I can’t just disappear.”

  Kye laughed. “Unlike the day Draigon appeared as you were demonstrating your roping skills, we came here by car.”

  Savannah’s eyebrows drew together. “How did you know where to find me?”

  “You will understand after the binding ceremony,” Kye said, bending to press kisses along her neck and shoulder, lingering over the place he had repeatedly bitten her. “Tell your family you will return later today and introduce us to them.”

  Savannah hesitated only a second before nodding and pulling away. “I’ll meet you at the car.”

  * * * * *

  The trip to the transport chamber in the Sierras was agonizing for Draigon. The delay almost unbearable. And by the time they climbed out of the car, his body was coated in a sheen of sweat, his cock hard and full, aching and pulsing with both need and protest.

  By the Goddess and her consort, Savannah’s sensual torture as they’d traveled had very nearly reduced him to begging and pleading and “spilling his guts” as she’d claimed was her intention when they refused to answer her questions, though spilling his seed was closer to the truth. And Kye was in no better shape.

  There was no need for conversation between them. No need to read each other’s thoughts or emotions or intentions. To coordinate their actions. He and Kye were of one mind as they grasped Savannah’s wrists and drew her through the foyer where most shed their Earth clothing, taking her directly into the chamber.

  She gasped in surprise and wonderment, whispered, “This is beautiful,” with such awe that the fever in Draigon’s blood cooled enough that he could prevent himself from stripping and taking her to the floor in a wild rut. And once again, as though the connection to Savannah had attuned them to one another, Kye reached him telepathically, saying, I feel like tumbling our mate onto the bed and fucking her until she passes out with exhaustion. But I would also have us build a memory that we can all savor.

  We are of like mind, Draigon said, releasing Savannah’s wrist and shedding the much-hated Earth clothing as Kye did the same. Anticipation, love washing through him. A happiness he couldn’t contain and didn’t want to as he turned toward Savannah and gained her attention.

  Savannah gave a husky laugh. The chamber with its skylight and its exquisite blossoming plants, the elaborate floor pattern of crystal stones, the huge bed on a low platform—all of it faded against the sheer beauty of Draigon and Kye as they stood naked in front of her. Their cocks rigid, their bodies hard muscle. Their expressions identical portraits of masculine determination, though she would never confuse the two of them or want them to be any different than who they were.

  Kye. Humorous, uninhibited, playful.

  Draigon. Serious, reserved, full of hard-to-reach places.

  Savannah reached for her shirt, intending to peel it off but Draigon and Kye took her wrists, preventing her from doing it. “Oh no, beloved,” Kye said. “This is for us to do.”

  They kissed the bands at her wrists ag
ain before releasing her. Kye moving around to her back as Draigon knelt before her. Both of them tormenting her with kisses and strokes, with nibbles and sucking bites as they slowly removed her clothing. Continuing their attention long after what she had been wearing lay heaped on the floor.

  Savannah arched as Kye fondled her breasts. Moaned when he tweaked her nipples while Draigon’s tongue made a foray into her slit then swiped upward, circling and teasing her clit so the hood pulled back and revealed the tiny, ultrasensitive head. She whimpered when he struck it, flicking it, rubbing it with his tongue before taking it into his mouth, sucking it even as his tongue continued to caress and swirl over and around it. All of it exquisitely timed to Kye’s manipulation of her tender areolas.

  Her fingers dug into Draigon’s hair. Holding him to her as her lower body writhed, rubbed and pumped against his mouth. The need for release building until she came in a white-hot flash that left her shaking, strung-out, her cunt spasming, clenching and unclenching, desperate to close around their cocks.

  “Payback is hell,” Savannah managed, “not that this will stop me from asking you questions in the car again.”

  Kye laughed, his palms gliding over her nipples. “Draigon and I look forward to it.”

  Draigon rose to his feet. The position making it easy for Savannah to grasp his cock, to brush her thumb against the silky, wet head. “I’m going to die if you guys don’t fuck me soon. I think I’ve mentioned it before. You two have turned me into a nympho with a serious sex addiction.”

  “As long as the addiction is limited to us,” Draigon said, covering her hand with his, a groan escaping when she abandoned the tip and stroked up and down his shaft.

  Savannah kissed him, tasted herself on him and found it darkly erotic. Felt her own arousal trickling down her inner thighs. The fullness of her cunt lips making it impossible to close her legs. And then Kye’s hand was there, further preventing it. His palm against her mound, her clit stabbing into its center as his fingers burrowed into her channel and her inner muscles reacted, clamping down, holding him, releasing him only to hungrily grip him again.