Terran Realm Vol 1-6

by Dee, Bonnie

  “Lorraine tends these herself. One of her little quirks is that she insists that we grow most of our fruits, vegetables and herbs ourselves. There’s even an indoor conservatory that she established when she first came here.” He faltered as if he were distracted. “How long ago was that?” He frowned. “I can’t recall.” Aviva watched his brow furrow, then clear. “No matter. Suffice it to say, she loves gardening.”

  Aviva looked towards the grove of trees. “Those trees over there, may we take a look?”

  James followed the direction she pointed to and smiled. “Sorry. The trees, as lovely as they appear, are actually diseased. They’ve been sprayed rather heavily and are off limits.” He turned back toward the house. “Shall we have lunch now? After, you can relax until dinner.”

  “Of course,” Aviva said. What else could she do? Even though she knew without question that the trees shielded something evil. From the looks of them, she recognized the descriptions of some of the varieties that made up a sacred grove. Just as Brigid and Ethan had feared, within its confines would be an altar to Ba’al. And more than likely, the remains of a blood sacrifice.

  She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and followed James into the house. How could she keep down lunch?

  * * * *

  Aviva yawned and glanced at the clock by her bed. Somehow she had managed to fall asleep after the meager lunch she’d forced herself to eat. The food looked superb, but each bite tasted rotten.

  She stretched, wishing for the comfort of her feline companion. Khat could take care of himself for the next three days. His food was set on a timer, as was his water. The apartment had been cat-proofed years ago when they first met. He would sleep in the sunny windows, listen to preprogrammed music and doze patiently for her.

  She padded, naked, to the en suite bathroom. Nolen had left a plush robe for her use. Lotions, soaps and shampoos were well stocked and the shower was almost as large as her own—but not quite. How Nolen would seethe if he knew he didn’t have the biggest and most expensive anything. Still, she had to admire his restraint. He hadn’t purchased the most expensive estate on the East Coast, merely one of the most!

  Aviva lathered and exfoliated her body underneath the stinging hot needles of water, making sure every inch was smooth. Next, she perfumed her skin with the exotic lotions she’d packed, lotions far more effective in seducing a man’s will power than those supplied for her.

  Moving faster now, she wrapped the downy robe around her moist body and headed back into the bedroom. Hanging in her closet was the sexiest dress she had ever owned. When she’d bought the dress with Brigid earlier that week, Brigid had declared it, sinful.

  She smiled remembering Brigid’s exact words. “If I were a hermit, I’d come down from the mountain for the chance to rip that dress from your body!”

  “So, do you think it will work on Nolen?”

  “Sweetie, that dress would work on a dead man!”

  It was blatant. Aviva had to give that to the sparkling emerald green satin gown. The slightest panty line would show so she couldn’t wear any underwear with it. It was rather like the dresses worn by the movie stars of old Hollywood. She sleeked her hair back away from her face, ruthlessly using pomade, and tamed the rest in a gold hairnet at the nape of her neck.

  With a deft hand, she applied shadow and mascara, accentuating her eyes and the catlike tilt. Blusher heightened her cheekbones and a slash of ruby lipstick drew the eye to her lush mouth.

  The deep heart-shaped bodice was deceivingly demure, until she turned around and the endless expanse of her back enticed the admirer to touch her body. The vee of the back ended just above the crack between her cheeks. The slit in the front of the dress allowed her freedom of movement. The form hugging material would have restricted her from sitting down otherwise. Sitting down would require precise planning since the slit was high enough to reveal the lack of undergarments if she weren’t careful.

  Her four-inch high heels were just a few straps of leather. As Aviva buckled the second ankle strap of her shoes, she caught her reflection in the framed, full-length looking glass. She gaped and straightened up. The woman in the mirror looked like the expensive mistress of a wealthy lecher.

  Perfect.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Manhattan, East 92nd St

  “How can you wait so calmly?” Brigid’s pacing had begun from the moment Aviva had been picked up by Nolen’s driver and had only paused during dinner. She bounced back and forth between Gabe and Ethan like a metal ball in an old-fashioned pinball machine.

  “You think I wanted this? Hell, it should be me up there, but the bastard knows me too well.” Gabe’s voice was laced with disappointment

  “My Singer powers are stronger than hers. I tried but I couldn’t dissuade her. Nothing would.” Brigid ignored him and kept moving. Ethan couldn’t take it any longer and broke her momentum.

  “Sit.” He grasped her arms and dragged her next to him on the loveseat. “You’re giving me a pain in my neck.”

  “Not quite right, my friend. Brigid is a pain in the neck.” Gabe ducked as Brigid threw one of the plush pillows at him. “Darling, there’s nothing we can do right now for Aviva. She’s well-trained and she volunteered for this mission.” He gripped the pillow she’d thrown at him and tossed it aside. “I wish I could have gone in her place. I wish I could be with her.”

  Three brisk strides took him over to Brigid and Ethan. Kneeling, he grasped their hands in his. “We can sit here lamenting our inability to assist Aviva or we can make sure that all the arrangements are in place so that those Irish Terrans who come to America don’t need to worry that anything will go wrong.” Gabe held his breath, waiting for Brigid’s response, hoping that Ethan would follow his lead in distracting her.

  Brigid bowed her head, resting her forehead on their twined fingers. Ethan stroked her soft, golden hair and Gabe caressed the smooth length of her thigh revealed by her shorts. She shifted slightly so that her lips brushed their joined hands. The touch of her lips sent a current running through both of the men, jolting their hands apart, and Gabe fell back on his ass.

  “Did you feel that?” Disbelief filled Ethan’s voice.

  “How couldn’t I? It felt like I was hit by lightning.” Gabe shook his fingers, trying to get rid of the tingling sensation.

  “Why now? We’ve touched each other before and it’s never hit us like this, only when we’ve made love…” Brigid looked at the men. “It’s grown stronger. Our connection has gone beyond a sexual joining.” Tears of joy slipped down her cheeks. “All I have to do is just touch you and I feel like I could swim the English Channel or figure out a cure for cancer!”

  She sprang to her feet and whirled madly around, her arms outstretched. A fine mist of rain fell from the air above her, clinging to her hair like diamonds. The faster she twirled, the heavier the rain fell, until, in minutes, her shirt clung to her breasts, the thin material hugging her bare skin, and her hair darkened to a deep gold.

  The liquid ran in rivulets down to the bare midriff that peeped below her shirt and dampened her cotton shorts. Brigid was like some modern day water nymph, a Celtic Undine. And like every male in history, they desired their naiad. They moved to her side and stepped under her Elemental downpour.

  “Brigid, my darling, stop.”

  “Agra geal, come to us.”

  The mad twirling ceased. She glanced from Gabe to Ethan and her legs buckled. Gabe rushed to support her under her shoulders while Ethan caught her around the knees. They carried her over to the loveseat, uncertain what to do next.

  Until she started to shiver. “Help me get her to the bedroom.” Gabe hoisted Brigid into his arms.

  Ethan darted ahead to the study door, swinging it open, and dashed to the master bedroom, leaving the door ajar as he pulled down the coverlet. Gabe set Brigid down gently onto the padded bench at the foot of the bed, and sat next to her. Her eyelids drifted open for a moment then fluttered closed.

>   Ethan knelt at her feet and pulled off her sandals. “Help me strip off her wet clothes. We’ll get her into bed and under the covers.”

  Gabe followed Ethan’s directions without a murmur. Still holding her against him, he tugged her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Goose bumps dotted her skin.

  Ethan cursed fluently. “Lift her up so I can take off her shorts and panties.”

  “She’s not wearing any.”

  Ethan looked up. “Did she make that choice while I was shaving?”

  A smile tugged at Gabe’s lips. “She wanted to surprise you.” He frowned. “Quickly, finish, I think she’s waking.”

  Brigid moaned softly, startling both men. “Cac.” Ethan cursed luridly in Gaelic under his breath until Brigid was tucked under the blanket.

  They made to leave, and then she opened her eyes and spoke. “Stay with me. I feel … strange. And cold.” She sat up and the blanket fell to her waist. “I need you both.”

  “We’re here for you, darling.”

  “Aye, we won’t leave you, agra geal.”

  Gabe and Ethan tore off their damp clothes, leaving them where they fell, and slid into bed. Gabe drew Brigid against him, her slim back and round derriere cool against his body.

  Ethan pressed her breasts against his chest and cupped her face. He blew his warm breath across her mouth and smiled as her lips parted in a sigh.

  They pulled the soft blanket over them and they gave a sigh of thanks as her agitation ceased. “I’m thinking she’s in no danger now,” Ethan said. “Looks like she reached another step in her abilities. That was some hell of a display of her control.”

  “More than that we’ve reached another step in our balance.”

  “Aye. Our cothrom foirfe.” He draped his left arm over Brigid, letting his hand drift down to her hip… and started as he met Gabe’s hand curved over her waist.

  “She needs the warmth of our bodies.” Gabe snuggled closer.

  Ethan cracked a smile. “And we just need her body.” He sighed. “And her heart.”

  “Yes.” Gabe pushed back Brigid’s still slightly damp hair and kissed her neck just behind her ear. His cock stirred. He tried not to become aroused, but as Brigid’s body warmed and her shivering stopped, his reaction increased. It didn’t help that Brigid had begun snuggling, pushing her backside against his penis.

  “Gabe?” Ethan whispered. “Is our lady expressing herself?”

  “Do you mean, is our darling brat feeling more herself and feeling me up? Yes.”

  Ethan cupped Brigid’s behind, his hands brushing against Gabe’s hairy thighs. He chuckled. And moved closer, butting his half-erect penis against Brigid’s pussy. “Open your eyes, agra geal. You have us where you want us and as you want us.”

  Brigid opened her eyes. “And where you want to be?”

  Gabe and Ethan answered with one word. “Yes.”

  With Brigid between them like the succulent filling in a sandwich, there was more play at first than actual sex.

  Gabe found the slope of her shoulders infinitely fascinating as if seeing it for the first time. Her drying hair curled around her ears and brushed the place where her neck and shoulder joined. He placed moist kisses from her ear to that fragile juncture, feeling her pulse race beneath his touch. He bent and kissed the dimples above each round cheek of her buttocks, his hands joining Ethan’s to cradle her ass.

  When Ethan’s hands moved up to Brigid’s hips, Gabe deepened his kiss. He licked one round cheek and then, because he couldn’t resist, bit her. Not hard enough to break her skin, but deep enough that he knew he’d leave a brand.

  She nudged him as he withdrew his mouth and he heard her throaty demand. “Bite the other one. Harder. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

  Huddled beneath the cover, in a shadowy world that consisted only of Brigid’s body, Gabe took a deep breath and obeyed the commands of his goddess.

  *

  Ethan’s penis had a mind of its own. And its mind was impatient.

  After his hands encountered Gabe’s caressing Brigid’s derriere, he slid them up the swell of her hips to the fullness of her breasts. Christ, he loved the feel of her breasts, so soft, and the unique texture of her areolas. Her nipples so tight and long, now that she was aroused.

  He fingered them, pinching and twisting them, brushing his calloused fingertips back and forth across the buds. He bent and tugged one deep into his mouth, sucking hard.

  “Harder. Suck harder. Touch me harder.” Ethan lifted his mouth from her breasts and gazed at her flushed face and shuttered eyes. Her head was flung back, her neck bowed tight as a harp string. She arched her back and raised her breasts higher even as she gripped the back of his head and pulled him back to her. “Bite me. Hard.”

  He groaned. And he took one turgid nipple between his teeth and bit down. Brigid screamed and bucked, holding him close against her bosom. His cock lengthened. “Now. I have to fuck you now.” Dimly, from beneath the sheet, he thought he heard Gabe echo his plea.

  But louder than anything he heard Brigid’s cry. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

  * * * *

  “Sing for me, fiorghra.”

  “If you call me your dearest love in Gaelic again, I’ll sing a whole bloody opera.”

  Gabe laughed, his arms around Brigid’s waist loose and relaxed. “I beg of you, Ethan, not even your voice can make me appreciate opera.”

  Ethan rested his head against her breast. The teeth marks he’d left on her pale skin stood out. After he’d branded her, he’d kissed and licked the tender wound, regretting his enthusiastic response to her earlier command.

  Until she chided him. “Didn’t I beg you both to take me hard?” She smiled at them as they looked down on her lying at her ease between them. “Gabe’s fine with it. You, my dear love, need to believe me when I tell you I love every mark you’ve given me since we joined.” She caressed his jaw. “I look forward to more. And more music.”

  “I’ll sing for you once Aviva has left Nolen’s home. I have no heart in me for music right now.” Ethan sighed. “If only she were able to report to us while she was there. I know she can’t take a chance, still…”

  Gabe rolled over to his back and stared at the ceiling in silence. He ran his fingers through his hair and t made a decision. “Get up. We’re going to work right now on the placing of the Irish Terrans in the States. None of us are going to rest anyway unless we’re doing something proactive.” He smacked Brigid on her behind and leaped from the bed before she could retaliate.

  Brigid looked over her shoulder, smiled sweetly and said one word. “Hotfoot.”

  Gabe dashed into the john.

  “Did you…”

  Brigid giggled. “Not yet, but it was fun to watch him. He’ll realize in a minute that I didn’t.”

  Ethan laughed. “I’d advise you to throw on some clothes before he does.”

  “Too late, brat. Better run before I throw you over my knees!”

  “Promise?” Brigid flipped over onto her stomach and wiggled her behind. “I’ve been so naughty, maybe you should.”

  “Later, you single-minded fiend. Let’s occupy our time more profitably. We have some travel plans to arrange.” Gabe opened his walk-in closet and entered it.

  Brigid moved over to her dresser and opened the top drawer, staring at the contents. She inhaled deeply and let out her breath. Seemed she hadn’t stop sighing since…

  “Aye. It might help to keep our minds off…”

  “Aviva.”

  * * * *

  Boynton, New York

  Aviva stared at the tipsy trifle in the crystal cup in front of her. The evening had been excruciating, starting from the moment she stood at the second floor landing of the main stairway.

  Lorraine had been waiting for her. Or so it seemed.

  She appeared at the study door wearing a loose, black chiffon gown that covered her from throat to ankle. Modest-looking until you realized that she wore nothing but a small black
triangle of material covering her shaved mound. And no bra.

  Her stiletto heels were sharp-toed and looked like they could be lethal weapons. Their five-inch height gave her extra inches over Aviva. Not that Aviva cared. What she did care about were the waves of animosity rolling from the evil bitch. She injected a calming tone into her greeting, hoping the Singer touch would defuse the woman’s animosity. “Good evening, Ms. Foley. Please let me say how striking your outfit is.”

  The woman said nothing until Aviva reached the bottom step. Her aura remained unchanged. Her face remained expressionless. Why hadn’t she responded to her Singer power? No time to worry about that.

  Aviva sauntered across the carpet, her steps muffled, until she stood before Lorraine and paused, waiting for Lorraine to speak. The woman gave her the once over and bared her teeth in what passed for a smile. “I wish I could say the same for you, bitch. But never mind. Arven is mine! Even though you wore that rag to seduce him, you won’t have him! He’ll never leave my bed for you, you—”

  “Enough! Lorraine, apologize to Ms. Shiron. Now.” And those were the first words Aviva heard Nolen utter.

  She watched in wonder as Lorraine flinched, seeming to shrink. She turned to Nolen and bowed her head. “Forgive me, Arven. I spoke in haste. I didn’t”

  “Quiet! I would send you to your room, but I know that sitting politely at dinner tonight will be a greater punishment. Do not utter a word the rest of the evening. I’ll chance no more insults to my guest. Go to the dining room and make sure everything is ready. Immediately.”

  Lorraine turned and tottered off, her sense of balance damaged by Nolen’s anger. And his Speaker ability. Aviva had felt it. Lorraine had responded to it. Why not to her Singer ability?

  Aviva looked fully at the ancient Terran and knew the answer, and forced back a gag of revulsion. His aura was darker and larger than Lorraine’s but matched it in shape. Even the edges were limned in crimson. Like must call to like.

  His gaze roved over her body and her loathing grew. When he touched her hand, she feared her disgust would overwhelm her. She bit her bottom lip trying not to retch.