by Anna Hackett
He growled.
Rory pushed a hand through her hair. “I guess I was being an idiot. I wanted you to notice me.”
Kace went still. “You succeeded.”
She pressed her hands to his chest. “Well, since you scared off my dance partners, you’ll have to dance with me.”
“I don’t dance.”
“Then you shouldn’t have intervened.”
He stiffened. “You wanted them touching you?”
“You know what I want, you stubborn man. Now be quiet and dance.” She pressed into him, swaying.
Kace couldn’t make himself leave. He wrapped his arms around her and absorbed the feel of her.
“What were you talking to the man at the bar about?” he demanded.
“What man?”
“The sponsor.”
“Malix?”
Kace pulled her up on her toes. “You were engrossed, absorbed by him.”
“And you didn’t like that?” she asked quietly.
“No.”
“Kace, you’re leaving me so confused.”
“What. Were. You. Talking. About?”
“His company makes spaceships. We were talking about engineering and his wife, husband and kids, who he misses when he travels. His planet has committed triads. God, two people in a relationship is hard enough, imagine three.”
Kace relaxed a little. “He gave you something.”
“This?” She pulled out a coin with a symbol on it. It looked like a stylized lightning bolt. “He said someone had given it to him.”
“It doesn’t look like the usual currency here on Carthago.”
“Malix said it was nothing important. An invitation to a party or something. He said people are always trying to curry his favor and inviting him to places. He didn’t want it and I thought it looked pretty.”
The last of Kace’s tense muscles relaxed.
“You realize you’re jealous, right?”
He stopped and stared down at her. Antarians did not feel jealousy. Jealousy implied strong emotions and strong attachment.
Rory’s gaze went over his shoulder and her eyes widened. “Oh, my God. Are they…?”
He turned and saw the painted dancers on the stage were doing a different kind of dance. A woman was on her knees, sucking the cock of the man standing in front of her, while another man was taking her from behind.
Rory scanned the room. Kace saw her taking in others on the dance floor with hands up skirts and trousers loosened. In the shadows at the edge of the room came the raw sounds of flesh slapping against flesh.
Her hands tightened on his shirt, her gaze coming back to the painted dancers on stage. She was watching the woman swallowing the man’s cock as he rocked his hips forward.
Instantly, Kace imagined himself and Rory. Rory with her hands pressed against his thighs, her mouth stretched wide as she sucked his cock past her pink lips.
“Harper and Raiden are waving at us from the door.” Rory’s voice was husky. “I guess we can leave now.”
Kace nodded and stepped back, breaking the spell. He kept a distance between them as they joined the others and made it back to the living quarters at the House of Galen.
Another round of drinks was passed around, and here, in their home, he saw his friends truly relax. He watched Rory talking with Nero, remembering those heated moments on the dance floor. He watched his friends enjoy themselves, and found his gaze straying to Raiden and Harper, and Thorin and Regan.
It was an unpleasant reminder of things he couldn’t have.
Things he suddenly wanted desperately.
He shot to his feet and set his glass down. He strode out of the room.
As he walked into the corridor, he decided he’d go down to the gym and work out some of this tension.
In the gym, the lights clicked on automatically. He glanced over and stared briefly at the light that Rory had fixed the other night.
Rory. Rory was all he could think about.
He stood there, in the center of the space, his blood pumping thickly through his veins. The edginess made him feel like hitting something.
He turned to the gel-filled bags hanging from the ceiling. He tore off the shirt he’d pulled on after his shower and started punching the closest bag. He slammed his fists into it, waiting to find that control he’d depended on his entire life.
The sound of light footsteps caught his ears. He knew who it was, and he didn’t look up. He kept torturing the bag.
“Stop, Kace,” Rory said quietly.
“Go away,” he growled.
“No.”
Chapter Eight
Kace dropped his hands, fighting the urge to grab her. His harsh breathing was loud in the silent space.
Rory moved in behind him. He felt her hands on his back, like the brush of feather-light wings, and then she pressed a kiss to the center of his back.
He shuddered. “You keep pushing.”
“I’m not doing anything, Kace, except letting you know I like you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Rory.”
“How could you hurt me?”
He turned. She was so close and those freckles teased him, begging him to count each one. “Love doesn’t exist on my planet. I’ve never seen it or felt it. Romantic relationships are forbidden. Sex is tolerated. They are all things that can get in the way of being a good soldier.”
She gasped. “You aren’t allowed to love?”
“No, Rory, I don’t believe in love.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Rory’s words made Kace’s gut churn. “What?”
“I’ve seen the way you watch Harper and Raiden. With envy in your eyes.” She lifted her stubborn chin. “I’ve seen the way you watch me.”
They stared at each other, no other sound in the room. Kace told himself to walk out, to leave, but his feet refused to move.
Rory Fraser was like a vortex, pulling him in.
She let out a small sigh. “I think we both need to work out some of the tension.” She pulled away and kicked off her shoes. “Let’s spar.”
Kace was certain this wasn’t a good idea, but he still couldn’t make himself walk away.
She wandered over to a wall of weapons and pulled off two short fighting sticks. They were made of well-worn wood.
“I know you’re a master with the staff, but have you used fighting sticks, as well?” She held one out.
He took the light stick and nodded. The stick was far shorter than his staff, and used in a completely different way.
“I’ve done some sayoc stick grappling at home.” She spun the stick in an experienced move, holding it up over her shoulder. “What I like about it is that size doesn’t matter, skill does.”
She came at him.
Kace moved his stick, meeting hers. They traded a rapid combination of strikes, their sticks smacking against each other. He found himself moving back across the mats as she drove him backward with skilled, lightning-fast moves of her stick.
She was good. Very good.
Concentrating, Kace watched her style and timed the arcs of her stick. But she varied her attacks, and he had to use every bit of his skill to block her.
She pulled back, half crouched, and they circled each other on the mats.
“Come on, Kace. Attack.”
He shook his head. “I won’t hurt you.”
Something moved in her eyes. “No, of course you won’t. You’re too noble, too protective. A hero.”
“Hardly. I was born and bred to fight. Antarian children are sent to military school at age three.”
She dropped her hands, her stick by her side. “Your family?”
“No families, Rory. There haven’t been family units on Antar for centuries. It was more efficient for children to be schooled straightaway. It was decided that family attachments promote emotional ties. Emotions make you weak.”
“That’s insane. Emotions can make you stronger, as well. Give you something to fight
for.”
“We fight for honor. For our people.”
“That’s not the same as fighting to protect the people you love.” She shook her head. “Why would your people choose to do this?”
“We’ve been fighting with a species from a neighboring system for most of our history. Over time, the war shaped my planet. For an Antarian soldier, the pinnacle of success in life is serving our planet and battling the Hemm’Darr aliens.”
“What about children who aren’t suited to fighting? What about children who show talent in other areas? Artists, doctors, engineers?”
“Everyone works for the military. People’s skills are matched to certain roles.”
He saw sympathy flash in her eyes.
Her hands tightened on her stick. “What about what you want?”
“I want to serve my people.”
“That’s because you’ve been brainwashed to think that from birth.” She huffed out a breath. “That can’t be it, can it, Kace? You have more to offer.”
Her words forced an itchy, uncomfortable feeling to crawl through his chest. “Enough. Are we fighting?”
He lunged at her, swinging his stick.
She spun and ducked. He’d barely turned around when she came at him. Her stick thwacked against his shoulder, and as he gritted his teeth, she kicked him in the side.
Like a Gorran wraith, she moved again, fast and fluid. Her stick struck his lower back and she turned again, the stick slapping his thigh.
He grunted. Enough. He rushed at her, wrapped his arms around her hips, and tackled her to the mats.
He heard the air rush out of her, and both their fighting sticks slapped the mats. He was too big and heavy to stay on top of her. He rolled to the side, but she moved with him. With a lithe move of her legs and arms, he suddenly found himself held in a head lock. She wrapped herself around him like an Antarian constrictor serpent.
Kace shoved against her hold, and felt her muscles shaking as she strained to hold him.
But he knew he was stronger. He shoved again and broke her hold. They rolled across the mats, and this time he pinned her beneath him.
He expected to see angry eyes. Instead, she laughed.
He looked down at her, at this bright, vibrant woman with her unique red hair and those fascinating spots across her nose.
Then she leaned up and pressed her mouth to where his neck and shoulder joined. She nipped his skin, catching a tendon between her teeth.
Instantly, Kace’s cock went hard, pressing against her softness. The air turned hot and charged.
He had to have her. He needed something.
Slamming his mouth against hers, he drank her in. She jerked against him, her mouth opening. He slid his tongue inside and she met him, tongues dueling.
“Yes, Kace.” She peppered his chin with kisses, her hands sliding into his hair. “God, you turn me on.”
“How?” Sex in the past had always been fast, clinical. A drive to scratch an itch. “Tell me.”
He wanted to know everything about pleasuring this woman.
“My breasts. They feel full. And my skin is sensitive.”
He pulled back a little. “Show me.” All thought had fled his head. All he needed was to see her, feel her, and touch her. He sank his fingers into the tiny scrap of emerald silk covering her and yanked it away.
She gasped, her small breasts bared to him. Then he leaned down and sucked one sweet nipple into his mouth.
“Yes. Like that.” Her fingers dug into his scalp. “A little harder.”
He did as she asked and then moved over to the other nipple. She was the perfect handful, and he loved the way her nipples darkened and pebbled.
“What else?” he murmured against her skin.
“My belly feels tight, like there are a hundred butterflies winging around in there.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m damp between my legs.”
Drak. His cock leaped against his trousers. He moved downward, peppering kisses across her skin. He pressed a kiss to her belly, letting his tongue delve inside the tiny divot there, and felt her quiver against his mouth. He nipped at her hipbone and she arched into his caress.
He flicked open her trousers, grabbed the slick fabric, and yanked them down her slim legs. She lay naked before him, pale skin, delicate muscles, and more of those maddening freckles.
“I overheard Raiden and Thorin talking.”
Her green-gold eyes blinked up at him. “And?”
Kace moved his mouth lower, pressing his lips just above the fascinating tangle of red hair between her legs.
“They were talking about a small bundle of nerves…” Kace slid his hand down, parting her folds. She was so pretty, and pink, and soft.
Another throaty laugh. “Typical men. It’s called the clitoris.” Her voice turned breathy. “Women here don’t have them?”
“I believe they are in a different location.” He moved his finger until he brushed a small nub.
When her body jerked and a cry was torn from her lips, he knew he’d found the right spot.
“You…don’t know for yourself?” she asked.
“I haven’t been with a woman here on Carthago. And Antarian women find pleasure in intercourse.”
“Well, some Earth women do, too, but the clit is where most of the action happens.”
When Kace rubbed the tiny knot, her breathing turned choppy. “Action?”
“Action…the things you do, when it’s good…” She threw her hands out on the mat. “Stimulation, licking, sucking.”
Kace went still. “Licking and sucking?” Desire exploded inside him, fire eating at his gut.
“Yes.” She lifted her head. “Kace—”
He had to taste her. He leaned down, parted her thighs, and licked her.
“God.” She reared up.
He held her down and started sucking on her clit. As she cried out his name, he alternated between licking and sucking.
She was so responsive, and he found it so easy to determine what she liked best. Her hands were back in his hair, tugging hard. His cock was hard and throbbing. The taste of her was so intoxicating.
He smiled against her skin, liking how she was going wild for him. He watched her every reaction, and when something got a strong response, he did it again. And again.
“Kace!”
He felt her body tensing beneath his, and knew her release was coming soon. He moved down, stabbing his tongue inside her, licking at her juices.
And then he moved back up to that small little nub that was so fascinating. He sucked it into his mouth.
And with another arch of her back and a wild cry, Rory came, crying out his name.
***
Rory felt dazed, and so very relaxed. She lay sprawled on the mats, her damp skin cooling, and Kace’s head pressed against her belly.
She idly stroked his thick hair, listening to his irregular breathing.
Once she could move, she was going to lay him back, strip him bare, and lick every tough inch of him. He’d just given her one of the best, most mind-blowing orgasms of her life.
She wanted to return the favor.
Rory was just about to move when he pushed off her and stood.
She froze. His body was rigid, closed-off. Surely, he wasn’t going to leave her…again?
She forced herself to look up, and dread solidified in her belly. His face looked so torn. She saw desire warring with guilt and torment.
He was going to leave.
Suddenly, Rory felt horribly naked and exposed. She sat up and pulled her legs in to her chest. She wrapped her arms over her bare breasts. “Why?” A single, harsh word.
“Because I’m not allowed to want you. I’m not allowed to put my own needs before my people.”
She watched as his hands flexed and curled by his sides.
“Kace—”
“I’m sorry.” He turned and hurried out.
Rory slapped the mat. Damn him. She was tired of him touching her and then walking
away. It hurt. It hurt so damn bad.
She flopped back on the mat, staring at the ceiling. But a part of her felt sorry for him. She could see the torment stamped on his expression, in his eyes. He wanted her, but that apparently went against his beliefs. She was only making this worse for him.
She had the unhappy realization that Kace would never truly be hers. Even if he did pull her into his arms and become her lover, she’d never be able to compete with his sense of duty and honor.
Eventually, he would leave her.
For the first time in her life, Rory found a problem that she couldn’t attack or beat up, or solve through any of her usual methods.
Slowly, feeling very old, she pulled herself onto her knees and grabbed her clothes. She dressed and left the gym.
As she walked through the now-silent corridors, her clothing rubbed against the sensitive and still-swollen flesh between her legs. She could still feel his mouth and tongue on her. In her. God.
She walked into the living quarters, which were now thankfully quiet. The party was over, or had at least moved somewhere more private.
She was almost to the corridor leading to the bedrooms, when Regan entered the room. Her cousin looked flushed, eyes bright, her white nightgown brushing over her clearly naked body beneath.
“Oh. Rory. I was coming to get a drink. I thought you were in bed already.”
“On my way.” Rory’s belly tightened painfully. Regan had the look of a woman who’d been well loved.
“What’s wrong?” Regan frowned at her, and reached out one hand.
“Nothing.” Rory evaded her cousin’s touch.
“You’ve got your sad face on.” A line appeared on Regan’s forehead. “It’s the look you usually hide under your ‘get out of my way or I’ll beat you up’ face.”
A reluctant smile tugged at Rory’s lips. “I can never hide from you. Don’t worry, I’m just a little bit sad.”
Regan opened her arms and Rory moved in for a hug. As her cousin’s slim arms folded around her, Rory leaned into her, absorbing the feel and comfort of her.
“I know it’s hard,” Regan murmured. “Thinking about everyone at home. And I know how close you are to your family.”
Rory hugged her cousin back harder. She felt a shot of guilt for letting Regan think she was sad about home. Then Rory pulled back and straightened her shoulders. If she let herself wallow in her misery, she’d fall down in a pile and not get back up. “You get back to your big, bad gladiator.”
