by Alisha Rai
She rubbed his knee, and he leaned back against the pillows. It was odd to have someone petting him like this, but the soothing massage calmed him.
“One guy, McGuire, he was best friends with one of the men who was killed. He and another soldier were supposed to take the suspect back to the village, but he stopped on the way.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah.” Jas squeezed his eyes shut, as tight as he could manage. He couldn’t block out the memory, though. “I don’t know if he planned the whole thing, or if it was a spur of the moment terrible idea. The sergeant with him, Lorne, she slipped away and came and got me. We raced back. We found the translator terrified and huddled away from the scene, the suspect naked and tied up, with McGuire screaming questions at him. The man had been hurt badly.” It was getting harder to remain emotionless.
“Did he kill the suspect?”
“He tried to. The guy went to stand up, and McGuire shot at him. Lorne and I rushed him, and he shot me twice in the struggle.”
Katrina’s touch on his knee turned soothing. “This is what you had to testify to at the trial?”
“Court martial. Yes. We all did.” His eye twitched, recalling the angry glares of McGuire’s parents and supporters. They’d called him and Lorne the traitors, held firm in their belief that their son had been doing his job the best he could.
Bullshit. Jas had seen the aggression and rage in McGuire’s face, up close. All he’d cared about was exacting vengeance on anyone he could.
“Tell me he was convicted.”
“Twenty-five years.”
She sighed. “Good.”
“He served five before he was paroled.”
Her lips curved down. “Oh.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Looks like he’s probably going to be pardoned.”
She inhaled. “Oh dear.”
“Yeah.”
“What can you do?” She came to her knees.
“Nothing.”
“But . . . but that’s not fair.”
It wasn’t. He shrugged, her outrage making him feel a little better. “That’s how it is.”
“He tried to kill a defenseless, unarmed man. It’s only because of your intervention that he didn’t succeed. And he tried to kill you! And . . . nothing happens?”
“Right.”
“Is your name going to be in the press or anything?”
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t lead back to you.”
Katrina made an annoyed sound. “That’s not why I’m asking. I’m asking for your sake.”
“It’s possible.” Jas shrugged. “There’s so much going on in the news now, that I imagine this will be a blip on most people’s radars.”
“How can you be so calm?” She clutched her hands to her chest. “Aren’t you angry?”
“Of course.” He hesitated, unsure of how to explain. “Anger can be a useful emotion, but if I’d stayed angry when I came back, I would never have been able to move forward. So I buried the anger down.”
“Sounds like you buried everything down.”
Jas thought of the love he had for Katrina. “It’s not like I don’t feel things.”
“You just don’t talk about most of those feelings,” she noted.
“That’s not—” He paused. “That may be true. I’ve never been forthcoming, but now I’m pretty far out of the habit of confiding in anyone.”
“I’d like to know when things make you happy, or sad. I want to know when you’re hurting, even if that means I can’t get something I want. Like coming here? I had no idea it would hurt you. You should have told me.”
He caught her fluttering hands and gave them a squeeze. “I came here because I wanted to, too. I missed this place, and since I’d gotten news of the pardon, all I’d wanted was to run away. I was glad to have an excuse to come here. Honestly.” Every word he spoke came from his heart. He would never have thought to come stay here for days had it not been for Katrina. This trip had nourished him, like her food nourished his body, first thing when he woke up.
Her eyes were big and dark. The strap of her camisole had slipped down. He liked that little dip where her shoulder met her neck. It was such a tender, vulnerable spot.
“How do I know when you genuinely want something, though, if you don’t talk to me?”
“I promise, I’ll try to talk more,” he said, as soothingly as possible. He’d say anything to get that worry off her face.
Her frown relaxed. She scooted closer to him. “Well, I’m glad you got something out of fleeing here with me.”
“I got a lot out of it. All alone with a girl I . . . like.” He’d almost slipped. Used the other l-word. I love you. But he couldn’t say that. He opened his mouth, then closed it, tongue-tied and out of his depth, as he often was around her.
She nudged Doodle. “Puppy, can you leave us alone for a bit?”
The dog was brilliant, easily a ten-thousand-dollar dog. Doodle hopped right off the bed at Katrina’s sweet command and padded to the door. If Doodle could have, Jas imagined she would have shut it behind her.
Katrina walked up the bed on her knees and straddled him, so they were face-to-face. “I like you too. I’m sorry all of these terrible things happened to you.”
He automatically grasped her round hips. Her skin was warm and soft under the thin cotton of her pants. “I’m sorry terrible things happened to you.”
The kiss was soft and sweet, and so was her embrace. “I should tell you,” he whispered into her mouth. “I was so busy getting hay, I forgot to go to the pharmacy.”
She closed her eyes and gave a helpless laugh. “Oh my God. Jas.”
“I know.”
Katrina grasped his face between her hands. “Are we ever going to get to penetration!”
“Probably not, if you call it penetration ever again. Least sexy word ever.”
She collapsed against his chest, giggling. “Okay. You know what? This is kind of great. I never had that fumbling around period as a teen or young adult. I’ll have it now. We’ll thoroughly explore the bases.”
That sounded fine to him, though he made about ten mental notes to pick up the damn condoms tomorrow. “Amazing.”
“We’ll make it amazing.” A kiss fell on his forehead. “And hot.” Another on his nose. “It’ll be sexier than penetration.”
He made a face at the word. She laughed. “I have an idea. Can we try something?”
Uh, yeah, he was game for anything. He was hard simply being this close to her. “Whatever you’d like. You can run the show, if you want.”
Her hands fluttered over his shoulders, then rested there. “Good.”
His toes curled when her lips settled on his, sipping away. The kiss was soft and tentative, and he leaned back until he rested against the headboard, to give her more room.
Out of politeness, Jas tried to keep his erection from pressing into her, but she sought it out, squirming against him. He captured her exhalation and gave it back to her. The kiss turned deeper, more intense, her tongue flirting against his lips. He returned the caress, and she sucked at his tongue.
She pulled away, and he flexed his fingers on her hips. “What do you want?” she whispered.
“Whatever you’d like,” he repeated.
She sat back on her heels. “No. Tell me what you want.”
“I want . . .” He didn’t know what answer she was looking for. “I want to make you happy.”
She huffed out a laugh that sounded vaguely exasperated. “Without turning it around to me, tell me what I could do that would bring you pleasure.”
He almost said anything, but that would probably annoy her, even if it was true. “Can you take your top off?”
“Yes. Good start.” She crossed her arms in front of her and grasped the hem of her tank top. The frothy, useless piece of cotton landed somewhere in the room, and he was faced with her breasts.
He couldn’t help but stare. They were so lovely, the skin here a lighter golden
brown than the rest of her body, her brown areolas large and puffy. He cupped the heavy fullness in his palms and traced a silver stretch mark. “Pretty,” he managed.
“What do you want to do with them?”
He’d never heard that tone from her, that seductive purr. “Everything.” Was he going to be reduced to cavemanlike one word sentences? He ran his thumbs over her nipples, cataloguing the way she shuddered. “I want to play with these. Lick them.”
She slid her hands around his neck, and this time it was he who shuddered when she dug her fingers into the muscle there. “Do it, then.”
He might have been embarrassed by how fast he snatched her closer and buried his face between her breasts, had her long moan not told him how much she liked it. He ran his tongue over one of her nipples while he played with the other.
She wiggled up until her bottom rested right on his crotch. Without his urging, her hips moved in a circle and he gasped and came up for air. “Don’t . . . yes.”
“Which is it?” Another circle, their hottest parts separated only by a few layers of cotton.
That purr. “Yes. Keep doing that.” The tease was more exciting than he could have imagined.
She pressed hot, wet kisses against his neck, moving up to capture his ear lobe. “What else do you want?”
There was something so insistent and serious under that purr, it jolted him out of the seductive spell. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” Her wet nipples brushed his chest when she lifted her head, and his mouth salivated. “I want you to tell me what you want. Not me. Focus on you. What do you need? What have you fantasized about doing to me?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. What had he fantasized about doing to her? What hadn’t he fantasized about doing to her?
She wrinkled her nose, misunderstanding his silence. “Nothing?”
“No. Everything. I can’t narrow it down.”
Katrina brightened. “Ah. Well, I can work with that. Better than the alternative.” She traced her index finger over his collarbone and down his chest. “Can I tell you one of my fantasies?”
He nodded so quickly he got dizzy.
“You know the double doors on my bedroom balcony? Once I dreamt you came through them while I was sleeping and crawled into my bed. You woke me up with your mouth here.” She brought his hands up to her breasts. “And here.” She slid one of his palms down her soft belly and placed it between her legs. The cotton of her pants was damp, and grew wetter when he rubbed her through the material. “Do you want to do that someday?” she whispered. “Sneak in through my window, and lick me awake? I’d like that.”
He nodded again, helpless.
“And what would you want me to do to you?”
His gaze dropped to her lips. “I’d want the same.”
“Say it. Tell me what you need.”
“I want you to . . . suck me.”
“Suck you where?”
He slid his hand down his belly, under the elastic waistband of his joggers. He fisted his cock. “Right here.”
A secret smile played over her lips, and she inched the waistband down, until she had freed him. It had been too dark to see in detail last night, but the sight of her small hand around his erection was almost more than he could bear.
But wait, there was more.
She moved down his body, her ass high in the air. He gathered up handfuls of the sheets.
A dimple popped into her cheek. “Tell me if this is wrong. I’ve never really done it before.”
“I’ve never really had it done to me,” he confessed. It had always felt far too selfish and uncomfortable and awkward.
He felt none of those things right now.
She paused. “Really really?”
“Really really.”
“Okay, then. That takes some of the pressure off.”
He tipped his head back when her breath melted over the tip of his erection, but he didn’t close his eyes. When her hand pulled a little too roughly at the head, he hissed, and she gentled immediately.
His gaze slit in pure pleasure when her lips fit over his penis. She was clumsy and a couple of times she tugged at his foreskin a little too hard, but none of that was important.
This was beyond anything he could have fantasized. She was hot and wet and perfect, and the fact she desired him enough to pleasure him like this . . . well, that was aphrodisiac enough, even without the visual of her lips wrapped tightly around his erection, her cheeks hollowing every time she sucked. Though that was nice too.
“Touch my hair,” she murmured against the tip of his cock, repeating the words he’d said to her last night. “Show me what you like.”
His chest rose and fell and he tentatively let his fingers tangle up in her silky hair. He guided her gently, unsure of what would be too crass or forceful, but when she murmured in pleasure, he grew more confident. Her strokes sped up and the knot at the base of his spine drew tight. He tugged at her hair. “I’m . . . close.”
Her fist slid up and down his shaft, spreading the wetness. “So come, then.”
His thighs tensed and his breath came faster as she went back to torturing him. It was all too much, the feel of her mouth and hands and the sight of her. He grasped her shoulder and squeezed as his body clenched tight, the pleasure radiating up from the soles of his feet.
When the aftershocks of pleasure had faded, he stroked her hair, then urged her up. She gave him a startled look when he swiftly turned them so she was under him. “Wha—”
“My turn,” he said. Or maybe he growled it. He wasn’t sure.
“We did this yesterday, though.”
“It’s not a quota system, Katrina.”
She gasped when he moved down her body, and moaned when he stripped her pants off in one smooth motion and pressed his lips to her pussy. He made a vee with his fingers to open her up, and feasted, the taste of her going straight to his head. This was Katrina he was tasting. He’d remember this for as long as he lived, even if this ended.
Don’t think of the end right now.
He shook his head to dislodge the thought, and she whimpered, so he did it on purpose, moving his face, trying different positions, keeping up firm, slow strokes to her little clit. She wasn’t shy now about grasping his hair, and he made a mental note every time she showed him what she loved.
She tasted like . . . he knew he was supposed to say sunshine and flowers, but that wasn’t true, and frankly he’d be a little concerned if she did smell like roses down here. She tasted good, an indescribable flavor he doubted anybody could ever replicate.
He loved it. He loved her.
He wanted to tell her, but there had been far too many revelations tonight. No need to add another emotionally charged one to her basket.
Her muscles clenched up, and he gentled his touch. He didn’t go far. He stayed there, resting against her thigh, giving her tiny, gentle licks, until she shifted beneath him. He wasn’t ready to leave her yet, but he reluctantly gave her one last kiss before coming to his knees. He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and looked down at her splayed, delicious body.
He met her brown eyes, and that vague sense of melancholy he always experienced after a particularly bad dream moved through him.
What if this ends when we get back to the real world? Cinderella at midnight, left with a pumpkin carriage.
“We never got our shower.”
He blinked at the seeming non sequiter. “What?”
“Earlier, when your mom interrupted us. We were going to shower and didn’t.” She sat up and coasted her hand up his arm, then kissed his nipple. “I’m all sweaty now.”
He looked down at her body, his mood lifting. He was willing to be charmed into forgetting all of the dark stuff for a night and let hope spark inside him. Hope that this was exactly and entirely where he belonged. “As am I.”
“Shall we?”
“Absolutely. Can’t wait to see what you want to try next.”
&nbs
p; Her laugh was low and throaty. This seductive, earthy side of Katrina was so new and exciting. All he wanted to do was wallow in that laugh and her touch.
She crooked her finger. “Follow me.”
Easy. Truth be told, he’d follow her anywhere. A shower, a hot, wet, steamy place where they could get tangled up in each other? That was a no-brainer.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“IT’S REALLY TOO bad we’re conflicted out of dating apps.” Akash sorted through the papers in front of him.
Katrina pulled her legal pad closer to her and smiled at the computer screen. She was getting used to taking her conference calls from the little house’s living room. “Did you come across something good?”
“Yeah, get this: it’s called CatFishr. You can upload any pics you want, so you never know what the person you’re talking to looks like until you meet. You have to go wholly on the text conversation.”
Katrina chuckled, then realized Akash was serious. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Who the hell would want that?” Carol exclaimed.
“Oh, I don’t know. I thought it was kind of revolutionary. You know, leaning into the fear people have with dating apps. It’s kind of like a surprise grab bag, and not knowing what the person looks like is a way to focus on substance over appearance.”
Katrina rubbed her temples. Sometimes she felt very old. What was the world teaching these youths? “Crush spends a great deal of money to combat bots and catfishing. The idea of a grab bag first date is ridiculous.”
Carol popped her gum. She’d already gone through two pieces of nicotine gum during the call, which told Katrina her friend was deep in another quitting attempt. “Dangerous, too. Bet ya anything the creators are heterosexual men who are bitter about women not swiping right on them.”
Akash gathered himself up. “Not all—”
“No.”
“Nope.” Katrina folded her arms on the table. “Think about what could happen if someone shows up for a date, and the person they’ve been talking to is their abusive ex.”
