Guardian

by Knight, Angela

  He snorted. “And then there’s that whole delusional thing.”

  “You’re not Vardonese, Nick. I’m telling you what those kids always told me. And I was always too big. Those children were built like little fairies. Delicate, tiny. I was always the tallest kid in the class. My dad is a Viking Class Warlord, and he’s built like a human tank. I have his bone structure, so I was this . . . gawky giant.”

  Nick shot her a look under his brows. “There’s nothing tanklike about you, Riane. These kids sound like assholes.”

  She shrugged. “Aristocrats.”

  Closing both hands around her ankle, Nick gave it another hard tug. He stopped and stared down at her thigh, a deep groove between his dark brows. “I’m having trouble getting this bone straight. This is a lot more complicated that just closing cuts.”

  Her stomach rolled. “Do not dare let me throw up,” Riane told her computer.

  “Understood.”

  Swallowing hard, she went on a little desperately, “Then I got into the Vardonese interstellar service. My dad is a legend in the service, which became kind of a problem. My first commander was a Femmat aristocrat. She hated the fact that I wasn’t genengineered. Insisted I wasn’t built right, wasn’t as strong, wasn’t as smart as I should have been. Just inferior all the way around.”

  “I hope you didn’t buy that bullshit.” He stroked his big hands up and down her leg, heat and light spilling after his palms in swirling patterns.

  Riane closed her eyes, leaning back in the seat. “Finally my mother told me it was time to quit beating my head against Vardon bigotry. Get off-world, go somewhere I wouldn’t run into all this crap. So I decided to go into Temporal Enforcement. My dad had never served in the agency, so there was no baggage. I never looked back.”

  “Sounds like that was the only thing you could do.” Nick rocked back on his heels and studied her. “Okay, I think I’ve got the leg solid again. Swelling’s down, blood supply is back up. Still got to heal those knife wounds, though.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Just finish.

  But the rest was far less unpleasant. She lifted her shirt for him, peeling it away from sticky wounds. Nick ran his big hands over the injuries, and they closed in a swirl of light.

  Finally he rose to brace a forearm against the roof of the car. He looked weary.

  Riane blew out a breath in relief. “Thank you.” She reached for the door frame. Nick stepped back to let her lever herself to her feet. Straightening her shoulders, she took a step. When her leg didn’t give under her, she carefully began to walk along the shoulder.

  The smile Riane turned on Nick was dazzling. “Comp says everything is solid. Thank you!”

  “My pleasure.” He watched as she tried bouncing on her feet, then pivoted on the formerly broken leg to snap a lightning kick into empty air. Figures that the first thing she’d do is make sure she can fight.

  Nick sighed and rolled his shoulders. His head was pounding, and his body felt stiff and aching. “I’m wiped. We need to find a hotel or motel. Hell, I’m not picky—I’ll take a wide spot in the road.”

  Riane stopped kicking and stared into space, her gaze abstracted. He was about to ask her what the problem was when she suddenly snapped back into focus and turned a smile on him. “My comp says there’s a motel about ninety miles up the road. I can reserve a room for us if you’ve got a credit card.”

  He blinked. “Your comp can access the Internet?”

  She shrugged. “Of course.”

  “Of course.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out one of several credit cards, then handed it over.

  Riane looked down at it, read the name. “Joseph Baker?”

  “I’ve had to create a lot of identities with a lot of different bank accounts to keep the aliens off my ass.”

  They got back in the car and pulled off the shoulder while she performed her Internet magic.

  “Done,” she announced, and handed the card back. Nick slid it back into a pocket.

  They drove on in silence for a time. He glanced at Riane, who was staring out the window. She looked tired, which was to be expected given the fight. But there was also discouragement in her eyes, and that bothered him.

  “What you said about . . .” He broke off, unable to come up with a delicate way to put it. Being ugly? Not being strong enough, fast enough, good enough?

  Riane made a dismissive gesture. “I was just babbling to distract myself. All of that stuff is ancient history anyway.”

  “Didn’t sound like it to me.”

  “I’m an Enforcer now.” Her elegant profile was set like stone. “I’ve put my life on Vardon behind me. My fellow agents know my capabilities.”

  But do you? Nick thought the words, but decided not to voice them. He knew the answer anyway. It was painfully obvious she had lingering doubts about her own worth and abilities. Which was really no surprise. If you spent years telling a kid she wasn’t good enough, she’d start believing it after a while. The fact that she was so dazzlingly competent anyway was probably a testament to her own stubborn determination, as well as her parents’ love. Baran, after all, had been coolly willing to kill for his daughter.

  Yet whatever her doubts, she didn’t let them stop her when it came to a fight. Even though the Tevan was damn near two feet taller and probably three hundred pounds heavier, Riane had refused to give up, even with a broken leg. She just kept slugging. He’d never sensed fear from her, even when she’d obviously thought she was going to die.

  Nick liked what that said about her. Liked it a hell of a lot.

  He even liked the fact that she’d refused to call for help, but hadn’t hesitated to thank him when he’d saved her. She was proud, but she wasn’t arrogant.

  And no matter what she thought, she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.

  Ugly, my ass.

  • 17 •

  Riane’s pain and exhaustion seemed to have vanished like mist. Whatever Nick had done when he’d healed her leg seemed to have eliminated her usual post-riaat funk.

  But with that rising energy, she also felt the bloom of desire, hot and expanding down low in her belly, making her shift restlessly in her seat.

  She was acutely aware of his body, of the way his hands moved as he turned the wheel, of the flex and play of muscle as he drove.

  Need built, hot and dark. She remembered that luscious moment when he’d slid that big cock into her, when he’d kissed her and run his strong hands over her body.

  And she wanted that again.

  But I shouldn’t. Riane shifted in her seat again, this time with unease. This . . . thing between them got more intense every time they touched. And his power only added to that intensity. Giving in to it was simply not a good idea. Eventually, she’d be going home, and he’d have to stay here in the twenty-first century, where he evidently belonged.

  Giving in to the passion between them would only make the coming separation more difficult.

  Riane curled her hands into fists and tried to ignore the slow, honeyed rise of desire. The silence grew weighty between them.

  Oh, hell. He feels it, too.

  His eyes slid toward her, and his nostrils flared. Sparks began to flit around his armband like amorous fireflies.

  Yeah, he felt it.

  Her eyes drifted to his lap. A massive ridge grew behind his zipper. She felt her mouth go dry, imagining the rolling pump of his hips, driving his width relentlessly deep, sating that carnivorous ache between her thighs . . .

  Cut it out, Riane. This isn’t a good idea.

  But the desire grew anyway, defying all the good reasons against it, a prowling need that had her heart pounding, her sex going wet. Images flashed through her mind—the brawny line of his torso, his strong hand moving between her thighs, his tongue dancing over one pebbled nipple.

  And that cock. Thick, flushed, a long, elegant shape jutting from its curling nest of dark hair.

  His fingers drummed on the steering wheel
. His jaw flexed.

  She found herself fascinated by his mouth. It was so . . . sensuous. The full lower lip, a bit tight now, as if he was fighting for control. The upper lip, with its curve and deep cupid’s bow.

  Riane wanted to feel those warm, surprisingly soft lips on hers. She loved the way he kissed. Sometimes slow, gentle, coaxing; sometimes so hungry and devouring, he could make her wet with a kiss.

  “If you don’t quit looking at me like that,” he growled, “we’re not going to make it to the motel.”

  She knew better. Really, she did. But she found herself sitting back in her seat and giving him a feral smile. “This is a problem?”

  “It is if you don’t want to find yourself ass down in the weeds.”

  “Who says I’d be the one on my ass?”

  He barked a laugh. “You’re a bad, bad girl, Riane.”

  “So I’m told.” Also more than a little stupid, but that had never stopped her before.

  She told him which exit to take. He took it a little fast. The growl of the engine seemed to echo her hungry body.

  At last he wheeled the car into a parking spot. Both of them got out and headed for the office, walking a little too fast.

  Nick fell in behind Riane. She glanced back at him, lifting a brow.

  His smile was dry. “I’d just as soon not walk up to the motel desk with a hard-on that could choke a horse.”

  Riane pointedly looked down. “And yet, it seems you are.”

  “Why do you think I’m walking behind you?”

  She whooped a laugh.

  “Shut up. This is all your fault.” But his lips twitched.

  They checked in, then had to find their room. By the time they finally got inside, neither was in the mood to laugh.

  Even as the door swung closed behind them, Nick jerked Riane into his arms, swooped in for a kiss, and spun her against the wall. She kissed him back, openmouthed and fierce. His tongue swirled a wanton circle, thrust and retreated. Purring, she draped her arms around his strong neck, rolled her hips against his. Felt his cock, hard and urgent, behind the rough fabric of his jeans. She reached down, found snap and zipper. He wore cotton boxers beneath, and the soft, thin fabric strained to contain his eager cock. The head peeked above his waistband, and she explored it with her fingers. Velvet soft, beaded with pre-cum. She smeared the drop with her fingers, traced a teasing circle over sensitive flesh until he shivered, going rigid with his fight for control.

  “Living dangerously, Riane.”

  “Nothing new about that.”

  Nick bent, caught her under the thighs, lifted. Riane wrapped her legs around his hips as he turned with her, carried her toward the king-sized bed. She concentrated on his mouth, tugging his lower lip with her teeth, licking and nibbling as they walked.

  He tumbled her onto the bed, reared off her only long enough to strip away the leather jacket and black top. Paused to study the bra, his gaze heating.

  Riane looked down to see her own nipples pushing against the delicate white lace. “Hmm,” she murmured. “Okay, I begin to understand the bra concept.”

  “You sure?” He tugged one cup down, just far enough to liberate a nipple, then swooped in for a teasing tongue flick, and gave her a wicked grin. “I can provide an illustration . . .”

  Nick licked the peak until it blushed a bright rose. Raked it with his teeth. She squirmed, gasping. Finally his mouth closed over the hot little tip, suckling fiercely, deliciously. Riane let her head fall back and moaned at the burning pleasure of his mouth, the way that tongue danced, circled, the skillful bite and rake of his teeth.

  The man definitely knew his way around a woman’s body.

  Nick shaped and stroked her other breast, his thumb flicking back and forth over its lace-covered nipple, teasing delightfully.

  “You’re really good,” she managed, between pants.

  “Thank you.” Green eyes flashed up at her. He gave her a slow, considering lick, then smiled lazily. “I could say the same of you.”

  “Oooh.” She bit her lip as his hand wandered down to her waistband to unbutton and unzip. Long fingers dipped behind the waistband of silk panties, paused to explore her stomach in tickling circles. She squirmed and gasped, “Thank you.”

  “Believe me, it’s my pleasure.”

  Riane slanted him a look. “I’m not exactly finding it a hardship myself.” She contemplated his black T-shirt. “Though you are wearing too many clothes.”

  Catching him by one shoulder, she flipped him onto his back. He blinked up at her as she flung a leg over his hips and straddled him. “Damn, Riane, you’re strong.”

  “Why are you so surprised? You’ve seen me fight.” She dragged his T-shirt off over his head.

  “I thought that was riaat.”

  “Not all of it.” She rose off him just long enough to drag his pants off. Tossed them aside before attacking his boxers. His cock sprang free. Bobbed, long and thick and promising. She started to grab for it, but he promptly flipped her onto her back and grabbed her wrists. “No, no, no.” He grinned down at her. “You interrupted me in mid-nibble. I have plans.”

  “But so do I.” She gave him a toothy grin and jerked her hands free so she could grab for him.

  A brisk wrestling match ensued amid much laughter and yelps of protest. She quickly discovered that he was stronger than she was. Instead of killing the mood, it somehow intensified her need. The surge of muscle against muscle, the strain and arch of body against body. Laughter died in the rich, rolling rise of creamy heat.

  Somehow she ended up on her knees, her face pressed into the bedspread with him on top of her, both her wrists held behind her back, his cock teasing her butt. He gave her a suggestive roll of his hips. “Now, this is more like it.”

  She rolled her eyes back and grinned up at him. “It certainly is.”

  “Mmm.” He crouched behind her, still holding her hands pinned. She jerked as his face nuzzled against her ass. His tongue pushed between the lips of her sex, made a long, wet swipe. Riane squirmed at the sweet jolt of pleasure, gasping. Using his free hand, he parted her sexual lips and started licking, nibbling, teasing.

  “Sweet Mother Goddess!” she gasped.

  He only rumbled at her and kept using that incredible tongue, drawing luscious circles around her clit.

  Orgasm gathered deep in her sex, a pulsing heat that tightened and tightened, maddening her. She tossed her head, her hair whipping her shoulders. “Niiick!”

  “Yes?” He paused in his wicked licking to give her behind a nip.

  “I want you!” She craved the hard thrust of his big cock, the pumping force she knew would kick her over the edge.

  “Do you?” A slow circle around her clit, not quite touching, only jerking her need into a tight, aching knot.

  “Yes! Fuck me!”

  “Not yet.” And he gave her another slow lick.

  Riane bucked against his hold, her gorgeous ass rolling. Nick tightened his grip on her wrists, barely holding on as she fought him.

  God, this was hot. He didn’t think he’d ever known such clawing lust. The scent of her, the taste of her, ripe and utterly erotic. She was incredibly hot, her inner flesh ripe and wet as a peach. He could feel his balls drawing tight and firm as a pair of apples. His cock was so hard, he swore he could drive nails with it.

  He was dying to thrust into her, to lose himself in her tight, creamy depths. Instead, he tightened his grip on both his self-control and her narrow wrists, then reached his free hand under her body and began teasing her nipples. She gasped and arched into his hand, pushing her hips back toward his face.

  He licked her slowly, intent on driving her lust higher and higher. She squirmed deliciously, moaning in a way that made his cock jerk.

  Suddenly she convulsed, shouting in raw delight. Unable to resist, Nick released his grip on her breast and reared behind her. Still holding her wrists, he grabbed his cock with his free hand. And began to push inside.

  The sen
sation was incredible. Wet, swollen so incredibly tight he had to force his cock home inch after delicious inch. Riane yowled, throwing back her head so hard, her hair whipped the small of her back.

  At last he was all the way inside and began to pull out. The going got easier, and he started pumping, keeping it slow, letting the pleasure build. And build. And build.

  He shuddered at the way she felt, so creamy. Her firm, satin-skinned ass met his every thrust with her own, rolling against him. Utterly perfect.

  She humped harder, demanding more. “Nick! Nick, I want you. Please! Harder, oh, Goddess!”

  Silken walls clamped down on him. He jerked. And control skidded right out of his grip.

  Unable to resist any longer, Nick began to drive, hunching harder, deeper. Faster. And she met his every thrust, panting, shivering, her moans spurring him on.

  Until she yowled and writhed and reached yet another climax.

  The hot ripple of her interior walls maddened him, driving him into short, hammering thrusts. Pleasure curled around his balls, yanked tight.

  He came with a shout in a storm of blazing sensation.

  They sank down together, panting, sweat streaming off their bodies. Nick crawled up and curled around her back, wrapping both arms around her, craving contact with that long, lusciously feminine body.

  Riane sighed and twisted her head around. He reared up and kissed her hungrily, savoring the taste of her mouth. She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

  “Oh, baby.” He smiled back, even as he strongly suspected the smile looked a little sappy. “Thank you.”

  Riane settled down, deliciously exhausted, as Nick curled around her, warm and strong. Closing her eyes in lazy contentment, she tried to remember the last time she’d had sex this good.

  And couldn’t.

  She frowned uneasily as all her earlier doubts came rushing back.

  Nick was a twenty-first-century man. His home was here. Eventually she’d go back to the Outpost, and he’d have to remain, fighting his battles with his Xeran enemies. By Galactic Union law, the only way he could go to the future was if there was evidence those of this time believed him dead. Otherwise, even if she tried to take him, he’d be sent back, and she would face charges.