The Crystal Warriors Series Bundle

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The Crystal Warriors Series Bundle Page 33

by Maree Anderson


  Kyan grinned. From the dazed expression on the woman’s face, she was so enamored by the prospect of him taking off his clothes she seemed on the verge of fainting. Perhaps she had never seen an unclothed male before. He opened his mouth to ask, then shut it with a snap before he could inadvertently give offence.

  Sorcery had ensnared him, and doubtless sorcery was to blame for thrusting him into a world that was so alien, so unlike any other world he’d experienced, it made him question his ability to discern friend from foe. But one thing had not been lost amidst the riot of strangeness clamoring at his senses. Kyan’s innate sense of self-preservation was still very much intact.

  The majority of the women he’d encountered at this gathering thus far were forward creatures, who looked him in the eye as they fondled him and made it very clear they found him attractive. Their menfolk seemed unconcerned by this behavior, but Kyan, for all his brashness when it came to pursuit of women, was not foolhardy enough to take what they so blatantly offered. He had neither sword, nor weapon of any kind. The gods only knew what alien weapons might be brought to bear on him if he crossed some line and gave mortal offence. The odds that he would prevail against so many were not in his favor.

  His gods had not entirely forsaken him, however.

  It was obvious as a sand-lizard’s ruby-red eye that the gathering he’d been transported to was a matter of some import for the woman in the short red gown, standing before him. This same woman who’d opened the door, taken one look at him, and melted into a puddle of lust. She was the guest of honor, the Birthday Girl. It would behoove him go along with her request and curry her favor. And, in truth, it would be no hardship to entertain her by removing his clothes and displaying himself before all these people. He’d done far worse on a drunken dare. The prospect of coin, too, was a significant factor in his decision to act the entertainer. Coin would give him the means to purchase clothing more suited to this realm so that he could blend in.

  His gaze followed the path of her hand as it crept up to rest over her heart. She was a sweet little dumpling, all soft womanly curves displayed in a sensual package that made him long to press his lips to the abundant cleavage on display.

  Wulf, his commander, had once said, “If it has something resembling womanly parts, Kyan will bed it.” That wasn’t entirely true. Kyan couldn’t abide females who didn’t bathe regularly, or those with rotten teeth, or pustule-ridden faces. Nor scrawny ones with limbs like twigs, such as the female who’d thrown herself at him the instant she saw him. Other than that, Kyan didn’t have a preference when it came to women. Short or tall, slim or robust, dark or fair, it was of no consequence to him. Given the chance, he would dally with any comely female. And this woman most certainly fit his criteria.

  “Am I to presume my decision pleases you then, Birthday Girl?”

  “Well, duh,” the Birthday Girl said. “You’re a freaking Adonis and I’m only human. Of course the thought of you ripping off your clothes pleases me.” She blushed to the roots of her hair. “Uh, that kind of came out wrong. Uh, whatever you want to do is fine with me.”

  She blinked and her gaze dropped to the floor. When she next spoke it was a whisper, and he barely caught her words. “Like have your wicked way with me, right now, right here on the floor in front of everyone—carpet burns be damned. God. It’s such a crying shame you’re gay.”

  Kyan’s grin widened. He’d understood enough of her declaration to find it flattering.

  Her gaze darted to his and she clapped both hands over her mouth. “Omigod. Did I say that aloud?”

  “Not exactly. But I have exceptional hearing.”

  She groaned.

  Poor chick. Her fair complexion shrieked her embarrassment with splotches of crimson.

  Hunger gnawed his stomach, and he rubbed it absently. His gesture drew her gaze down his body, and her naked wanting licked at his skin. In response his cock twitched, and hardened. And it was his turn to feel the heat of embarrassment. He could not take off his clothes and display himself publicly in this condition.

  He glanced around the room, seeking diversion. His gaze lit on the food-laden table. He couldn’t help himself, he groaned aloud.

  “Whoa. I don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what’s up—you look exactly like I do every time I wander past a Baker’s Delight store.”

  Before he could decipher her words, his stomach growled. Loudly.

  She giggled. “You’re pretty hungry, huh?”

  He dragged his gaze from the table and fixed it on her face. “I cannot remember the last time I ate,” he said, with unaccustomed bald-faced honesty.

  Her face creased in sympathy. “Help yourself—there’s plenty of food.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you,” she said.

  There was a little catch in her voice that caught his attention and gave him pause when he would have made straight for the food. “For what? I have done nothing to deserve your thanks.”

  “For not running screaming into the night the instant I introduced myself as the Birthday Girl. For not sneering at me, or trying to put me down because—” She ducked her head, hiding her eyes from him.

  “Because, what?”

  “Because of the way I look.” It was barely a whisper.

  Her stark vulnerability shocked him. Did she truly believe herself unattractive?

  Each world he’d visited had vastly differing ideas about what constituted attractiveness when it came to women. Kyan had no clue what this world’s ideal female might conceivably be, but for a man not to find her attractive, he would have to be blind.

  Or a neutered eunuch.

  He swept his gaze over the room, taking note of all the female attendees. Most were younger women. All were slim, and a few were what he would term unhealthily underweight.

  Ah. His little chick had a complex about her ripe, womanly body. A pity. In his world, she would have been a prize, indeed. He’d seen far more plump women display themselves on the Choosing Block and whip the bidders into a frenzy with their unabashed femininity.

  He tipped her chin up with his finger, forcing her to meet his eyes. He paid homage to her rouge-glossed lips with a gentle kiss. And the instant he touched his lips to hers, his stones tightened and his cock swelled.

  He had no idea how long he’d been consigned to the void, but it seemed an eternity had passed since he’d had a woman, buried his face in fragrant hair and his cock in a warm, willing body. And before he could do something he would regret, before he could drag her somewhere private and use her to assuage the hunger that burned through him, he released her.

  He would fill his belly with food. Then at least one of his hungers would be fed. And with a full belly, perhaps the situation he found himself in would start to make sense. Because right now, when he should have been gathering information as to how he’d escaped the crystal sorcerer’s spell, taking steps to ensure he was not be-spelled again, and, most importantly, discovering how to get back to his homeland, all he could think about was the woman standing before him, gazing at him with such yearning that his heart ached.

  Kyan had been the object of many a young girl’s desires since he’d become a man. If the girls’ looks pleased him, and they were available and willing, he took them. And when he tired of them, he moved on without a backward glance. Their pleas affected him not at all.

  This woman? Something told him he might not be able to walk away from her so easily if he took her to his bed.

  “I like the way you look,” he murmured. “I like the way you look very much indeed.”

  He had not meant to say the words aloud. But he could not be sorry that he had, for his reward was a tremulous smile that filled the emptiness in his soul.

  ~~~

  Be still her wildly beating heart. He was sooo not gay—Happy Birthday, Ruby!

  That voice—pure liquid sensuality. He made even the most mundane statements sound sexy. And ohhh, those lips….

 
What was she supposed to be doing again? Oh yeah. Getting the strip show underway. Ruby gave herself a mental smack upside the head and pulled herself together. The kiss meant nothing. Neither did the compliment. He was just being kind—laying the charm on thick to keep the client happy.

  “If you need music to dance to, talk to that guy over there. He’ll sort it for you.” She pointed to Alex, who’d slung his arm around Jules’ shoulder and was nibbling her neck while she pretended to fend him off.

  She sighed. Lucky Jules.

  Mr. Dreamy left her to her pathetic little fantasies and sauntered over to sample the food. She ogled the progress of his tight, leather-clad bum.

  Caroline shimmied over and did some ogling of her own. “So?” she demanded. “Is he going to strip now, or what?”

  “I don’t want him passing out from low blood-sugar or something, so he’s going to have something to eat and then get his gear off. That okay with you?”

  Caroline clapped her hands and performed a sinuous little wiggle of delight. “Goody!”

  “Yes. Goody.”

  “What’s up, Ruby-doo?” She giggled inanely. “You don’t sound too pleased. Doesn’t he, like, do it for you, or something? I thought you had a thing for blonds.”

  “Oh, he’s certainly good-looking enough.” And he really, really did it for her, all right. “But he seems pretty new to this stripping business. Might even be his first time.”

  Caroline sniggered. Apparently she didn’t have an empathetic bone in her body. “So? He’s gotta lose his cherry some time. Might as well be tonight so we can enjoy the show.”

  It was unlike her to be so blatantly crude. Ruby examined her face, noting her slightly glazed eyes and the spots of high color on her cheeks. Uh-oh. “You okay, Caroline? Maybe you should ease up on the cocktails for a bit. I’ve got some juice in the fridge.”

  Caroline waved her glass at Ruby with uninhibited abandon. The luridly blue liquid contents slopped over her hand and she giggled again as she slurped it from her skin. “I’m fine,” she said.

  “Of course you are. Why don’t you sit down over here.” Ruby relieved her of the drink before it ended up all over the carpet, and steered her toward a stool. “And I’ll get you something else to drink.”

  Caroline plopped down atop the stool and stuck out both legs in an inelegant sprawl. “’Kay. So long as it’s nice and full of alcohol.”

  “Aha. Right. I’ll grab you some canapés, too.” Maybe a whole platter, to soak up the liquor.

  “Those li’l fishy ones? With the creamy stuff, and the greeny squishy salty thingies?”

  “Salmon with cream cheese and capers. No problem.” Turning on her heel, Ruby headed for the fridge on her errand of mercy—so-called since it’d be a freaking mercy if Caroline didn’t wake up without the mother of all hangovers tomorrow.

  She’d just poured a jumbo-sized glass of juice when the stereo boomed. Above it, she could make out yells and cat-calls. Her stripper must be about to do his stuff.

  The excited chatter of female voice escalated. Doubtless Mr. Dreamy was even now preparing to divest himself of his leather pants and vest, and prance half-naked around her lounge while shaking his groove thang to the music. Ruby’s pulse rate spiked.

  Did she want to watch all her friends drool over this incredible-looking guy as he got his kit off?

  Did she want her pathetic heart out there on her sleeve for all to see, while she mourned the lamentable fact that, even though he’d kissed her, it was just because he was being kind?

  Did she want to have to smile like it meant nothing when inevitably, he hooked up with one of the many attractive women here tonight and went home with her?

  Dammit. Quit being so needy Ruby. You’re not angling for a Happy Ever After. You just want to see him strip.

  She’d just turned thirty. She had no boyfriend. She hadn’t had sex in what felt like forever. And he was Mr. Dreamy—the man of her dreams, everything she’d ever fantasized about in the flesh. So, by crikey, she was going to watch him take off his clothes and enjoy every hot second of the peepshow.

  No one would have to know that while she watched him, she was pretending they were the only two people in the room. And that maybe, just maybe, he might see past the big bum, flabby tummy and dimpled thighs, and want to get to know her better.

  “What’s your name, dearie?” Ruby heard Lani yell at the “entertainment” as she made her way back into the lounge. Lani’s grin was huge. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. Lani obviously had no qualms about watching handsome young men take off their clothes.

  Ruby thanked God for the distraction, otherwise Lani would be publicly quizzing Ruby as to what lingerie she might be wearing right now. A public inquest over the red g-string she wasn’t wearing? She shuddered. Didn’t bear thinking about.

  “I am Kyan.” His deep, honeyed voice cut through the noise to resound as clearly in Ruby’s head as though he stood right beside her.

  Kyan. The name was as exotic as the man himself.

  A bunch of female guests started up a chant. “Ky-an! Ky-an! Ky-an!”

  Wow. Ten points for originality. Not.

  While people backed off to give him some room, Ruby grabbed the opportunity to push her way through to a prime viewing spot behind the couch Alex and Jules had scored.

  Jules craned her neck, and grinned up at Ruby. “Come and sit here, Birthday Girl.” She shuffled over to make room but before Ruby could move, Caroline appeared from nowhere and plonked her butt right next to Jules.

  “Just enough room for a skinny one,” Caroline said, blinking at Jules and ignoring her fierce scowl. “Yay.”

  Ruby tapped Jules on the shoulder to snag her attention. She’s pissed! she mouthed and mimed downing a drink.

  Jules puffed out a sharp breath, laced with disgust. “Bloody typical.”

  “Typical what?” Caroline wanted to know.

  Jules opened her mouth, doubtless to deliver some scathing set-down, and Ruby quickly intervened. She wouldn’t be able to enjoy her unexpected birthday gift to the full if Jules and Caroline started bickering. “Here, Caroline. Try this.” She handed over the juice.

  Caroline raised the glass to her lips, caught sight of Kyan, and tipped juice down her front.

  Great. Just great. Now she was going to miss the beginning of the show. “I’ll go find a paper towel,” Ruby said, while Jules made a grab for Caroline’s glass before she upended the entire contents in her lap. Or over Jules, for that matter. “Don’t bother,” Alex said. “She’s pissed as a chook and she won’t even notice. Stay here or you’ll miss the fun—that’s an order, by the way.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Alex rolled his eyes. “Gee, don’t you want to watch the big strong man take off all his clothes, Ruby?”

  “Duh. What do you think?”

  “Ssshh!” Jules elbowed Alex in the ribs. “He’s starting his routine.”

  Ruby’s gaze shot to the “he” in question.

  Kyan’s routine wasn’t much of a routine. It consisted of flexing his arm muscles for a bit, then shucking his leather vest and treating everyone to an uninterrupted view of his washboard abs. Ruby didn’t mind. It turned out he could ripple them in the most amazing ways.

  His hands went to the fly of his trousers.

  Ruby sucked in a breath. Her skin went hot-cold-hot. She wished she’d thought to fix herself another drink so she could cool her face with a chilled glass.

  He unlaced his fly.

  She distracted herself by wondering how in the hell he was getting out of those skintight leather pants. Talk about a mystery. She couldn’t see any signs of lacing, Velcro, or convenient zips down the outside legs. Should be extremely interesting, to say the least.

  He folded gracefully onto the carpet and stretched out on his back, lacing his hands behind his head—a picture of nonchalance. He resembled a fallen angel, lying there, waiting for some innocent to happen by and be tempted into sin.

  I
n the sudden hush, he said, “Who wants to help me with my boots and pants?”

  Oh. Okay. That was how.

  Caroline launched herself from the couch. She wasn’t the only one. Ruby had never seen anything like it. Opposing rugby players engaged in an all-out stoush showed more restraint than the horde of women who accepted his invitation. They were upon him in a matter of seconds. Bent eagerly over him, kneeling beside him—astride him, too.

  Ruby glimpsed the occasional flash of battered black leather and bared skin amidst a sea of bobbing heads, slightly parted lipsticked mouths and grasping hands. The scene looked mildly obscene—a seething mass of succubae feeding on their male victim. Each delighted peal of feminine laughter made her want to grind her teeth and pull someone’s hair.

  She clearly glimpsed Kyan’s face when one of the women moved. His expression showed faint amusement, as though these women were acting exactly as he’d anticipated.

  He didn’t help or hinder his admirers as they tried to tug off his pants, which were proving more difficult to remove than his boots. He didn’t single out any of the women for special attention. He lay there, perfectly relaxed, staring at the ceiling as they struggled to strip him.

  Caroline was bold enough to press a kiss on his stomach, swirling her tongue around his belly button. But Kyan didn’t even deign to react to her provocative caress.

  To Ruby, he seemed faintly bored in a been there, done that, ho-hum, kind of way. She figured his behavior was because he was used to being adored by women—a man who was all looks and no substance, who got by on his looks alone and only had to crook a finger to have willing females swarming all over him.

  But was she being fair? Could he really be that shallow?

  Ruby, of all people, knew not to judge a book by its cover. People had been judging her since the day the Plunket nurse told her mother baby Ruby was a wee bit too “bonny”. In other words, well above the average weight centile for her age.

  She wondered what kind of person Kyan truly was inside that handsome face and perfect body. Not that she’d ever get the chance to find out. She was pretty damn sure the only way she would end up in a compromising position with a man as good-looking as Kyan, would be if the man were roaring drunk.

 

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