by Presley Hall
She’s not yours. She might even find a mate on Kalix, once we get out of here, I remind myself firmly.
I know the connections between our two species can be strong. Although our mate bond is fake, she could easily form a bond with one of the warriors back home, once she’s safe and comfortable. And I can’t stand in the way of that.
But for some reason, the mere thought of her bonding with another warrior—forming a real mate bond—makes my blood heat, anger simmering in my gut. It makes me feel momentarily crazy, the way Gir’s comments did.
As we make our way into the more well-lit part of this district, searching for an inn with some vacancy, I do my best to clear my head.
I’ve got to stay alert, to concentrate on the immediacy of the danger we’re in and on keeping us safe.
A short while later, we approach the entrance of an inn that looks much like the one we just left. This one is shabbier than the first, more run-down, but I hope that means that no one who was at the auction or in Gir’s circle will be here.
It’s a good distance from both the auction quarter and the saloon we visited, and I have to hope that it will be enough to keep us off the radar. I pull my hood close around my face, and Brooke follows my lead, both of us huddling into our clothing as much as we’re able. I don’t want anything about us to be memorable or noticeable—no physical descriptors unique enough for the proprietor to use as information to give away even if he wanted to.
Brooke catches on without my having to say a word, hanging back as I approach the front desk so that the proprietor doesn’t see much of her.
I pay quickly, giving him the same story about her being my mate, and hand over all but the last few of our tokens. We’re going to have to get out of here soon, or there will be nothing left for lodging or food. The last thing we need is for me to have to resort to stealing, which would bring down even more danger on our heads.
I’m pleasantly surprised by the room once we get upstairs. Despite the overall shabbiness of the exterior and the downstairs entrance, the room actually has a fireplace for heat, and three blankets on the bed that are thick even if they are a bit threadbare at the edges. One is even stuffed with a thin layer of some kind of feathers, adding extra warmth. Whatever profit the place makes, the proprietor has clearly chosen to invest it in the comfort of his guests, and relief washes over me at the idea of having a halfway-decent place to stay, however briefly.
“You should get some sleep,” I tell Brooke as I add wood to the fire, nodding at the bed. “You’ll be warm enough, I think, although let me know if you get cold and I’ll build up the fire more. I should keep an eye out, just in case we were followed. I don’t think we were,” I add quickly, wanting her to be able to sleep. “I just don’t want to take any chances.”
She nods slowly, something like regret in her eyes as she glances at the bed and then back at me.
I wonder if she knows what I’m not saying, if she can guess the other reason I’ve volunteered to keep watch.
Because I want more than anything to get into that bed with you, but if I do, I’ll be inside of you in a matter of minutes. And I can’t do that. Because you’re not truly mine to claim.
But I don’t say any of that aloud. I just smile reassuringly at her, taking a seat at the table with my blade close at hand. She slips into bed, whispering goodnight in her sweet voice before rolling over, her back to me.
She’s left space on the bed, and I know she’s hoping that I’ll change my mind.
Gods, I want to, more than anything. I ache for her touch, for the warmth of her body curled against me.
My cock throbs at the thought, hardening as I gaze at the shape of her under the blankets. Was it only earlier this same night that we were wrapped around each other, lost in a haze of desire in a room on the other side of the city? It feels like days. And I feel as desperate for her, as hungry, as if it has been days.
The orgasm she gave me did nothing to dim my lust. If anything, it’s stronger than ever. I want to be in that bed with her more than I want food, air, or almost more than anything in the universe… except getting her safely away from Nierra.
Which is exactly why I know it’s better this way.
18
Brooke
It doesn’t take long for me to fall asleep. I’m exhausted from fear and adrenaline and sprinting across the city, and it feels incredible to be in a warm room at last, underneath blankets that actually offer something in the way of insulation.
With Zhori keeping watch, I’m not afraid either—at least, not for now—and that lets me fall asleep easily.
But I wish he were in bed with me. I miss the feeling of his strong body curled behind mine, a bulwark between me and everything else outside, his warm, powerful presence surrounding me.
I know I shouldn’t let myself start to rely on it. Once we get off Nierra, it won’t happen anymore. He’ll go back to his normal life, and I’ll start a new one. But that just makes me want to have him near me while I can even more.
Tonight, for the first time, I dream of him.
We’re both naked, his large body hovering over mine as he gazes down at me with hungry eyes that tell me just how much he wants me.
Zhori’s hands slide over my breasts, his mouth hard and hot on my own as he nudges between my legs. The first inch of his thick cock slides into me, and I arch upward, begging him.
“Yes, yes, please,” I whisper. The words are swallowed by his kiss as I wrap my arms around his neck, and he sinks into me, huge and hard.
The emotion that rises up in my chest as he bottoms out inside me catches me off guard, even in the dream.
My heart clenches, a rush of joy expanding inside me until it seems to press against my ribcage. I feel complete in a way I’ve never known before.
I kiss him wildly as my hands rove over his shoulders, his back, and his arms. Our foreheads press together, our skin dampening with sweat as he thrusts into me.
“I’m going to come inside of you,” Zhori breathes against my lips, driving every inch of his length into me again and again. “I’m going to fill you up, Brooke. I’m going to claim you, make you mine—”
“Yes,” I whisper, arching against him as my walls grip his cock, wanting more. So much more. “Please, oh fuck, please—”
His cock is hot and thick inside of me, on the verge of exploding. I know he’s only waiting on me, waiting for me to come too, and I can feel it about to crash over me. His eyes glow as he stares down into mine, the two of us so entwined that it’s like we’ll never come apart.
When my climax finally hits, I clench around him, my inner walls squeezing him so tight that he grunts. His cock pulses inside me as he comes too, filling me up with his hot release.
I wake up with a start, my eyes flying open as I suck in a sharp breath.
A hard shiver runs through me, aftershocks of pleasure rippling through my body, and my whole body flushes as I realize that I actually came. The orgasm in my dream was so intense that it woke me up, the imagined pleasure turning into true physical sensations.
Holy shit.
The room is dim, the only light coming from the embers in the fireplace. I glance over at Zhori, who’s still sitting stoically at the table, and my cheeks flame as I wonder if I made any noise in my sleep.
I have a feeling I did.
The memory of the dream is still sharp and bright, as vivid as if it really happened, and my heart is still racing.
Slowly, Zhori turns his head to meet my gaze. The silver flecks in his eyes are overtaking the deep blue, something that seems to happen when he’s aroused.
Oh god.
He definitely knows. He knows I just had a sex dream about him, that I came in my sleep.
I flush even more hotly at the thought, thankful that it’s so dark he might not be able to see the red tinge in my cheeks. I don’t understand why this gorgeous man has totally invaded my heart and my head, why I can’t get him out of my mind even when I’m sleeping
, why I want him so badly.
I’ve barely known him two weeks, but I feel closer to him than I have to anyone in years.
Trying to gather my thoughts and my composure, I get up, carefully not looking at Zhori as I walk to the bathroom. There’s no way I’m going back to sleep, and I can see the sky starting to gray outside, slowly turning to dawn. It’s much earlier than I planned on waking up, but I might as well make the best of it.
As I stand under the hot water of the shower, I hum softly to myself. Back on Earth, I used to belt out songs at the top of my lungs in the privacy of the little apartment I moved into after my grandmother died, but since I’ve been sharing space with Zhori, I’ve kept it to quiet humming.
But this morning, as the minutes pass and steam billows around me, I allow myself to start to sing softly. It’s quiet, but I know my voice is just loud enough that Zhori might be able to hear it a little. I’m not brave enough to sing at full volume around him yet, but I feel myself wanting to take this small step.
I trust him, and I know he likes hearing me sing. And I feel like it’s good for me, to be brave and let him hear, just a little.
By the time I step out of the shower, I have my emotions and libido under better control. I dry off and dress quickly, braiding my wet hair and tying it with a leather thong that I borrowed from Zhori.
He’s still at the table when I step out of the bathroom, but the drapes are open now. In the soft light coming through the window, his bronzed skin and the dark markings that swirl over it look more beautiful than ever.
“What are we going to do now?” I ask, chewing on my lower lip.
He takes a deep breath, tapping his fingers on the table surface.
“There’s an alien called Vortax,” he says finally. “Gir mentioned him when we first sat down to speak to him at the saloon. Do you remember?”
My brows furrow. “Yeah. He thought Vortax had sent us.”
“Exactly. And he was angry about it.”
“It sounded like he’s Gir’s main competitor here on Nierra.” I hesitate as I start to get an inkling of what Zhori is thinking. “Another smuggler, maybe?”
“That was my thought as well. And since they’re competitors, it’s less likely that my attack on Gir will be held against us.” Zhori laughs shortly. “Who knows, maybe this Vortax will even appreciate it. And since we have his name, we can search for him outside of that saloon or any other establishments where the gossip about my attack on Gir may have spread.” He sighs. “It’s not much of a plan, but it’s the best I’ve got right now.”
“That sounds like a good strategy to me,” I tell him enthusiastically, trying to buoy up his spirits. We’re not out of the woods yet, but having a plan makes me feel better. We’ve got a name, the possibility of a contact, and another chance to find an escape route. Things could be far worse—last night, after nearly being caught by Savyiek’s guards, it all felt pretty hopeless.
“So are we going to go find him now? We shouldn’t waste any time, right?” I look at Zhori, bouncing on my toes a little with excitement.
He laughs. “As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm for my plan, and for getting off Nierra—and trust me, I feel the same—we need to wait for the cover of night again. Then we’ll ask around and see about finding this alien. It’ll be safer when it’s dark and fewer people are out.”
I know he’s right, but I can’t stop myself from huffing out a frustrated sigh. The hours between now and nightfall seem interminable, and I feel fidgety, itching to get out of here. The only good part about being stuck in this inn is that I’m with Zhori—and currently he’s making me feel fidgety for an entirely different reason. I purse my lips to one side, sinking into one of the chairs at the small table.
“What should we do to pass the time?” I wonder aloud, then flush as I realize I can think of lots of ways we could kill several hours.
Zhori goes still for a moment, and I can see heat in his eyes. I really didn’t mean for my words to sound like an innuendo, but it’s too late to take them back now.
“I have an idea,” he says finally. His voice is rough, and my heart leaps in my chest, butterflies fluttering through my stomach.
“What is it?”
“I’m going to teach you how to better defend yourself.”
Oh. The butterflies take a nose dive.
It’s not that I think it’s a bad idea. I can see why he wants to give me self-defense lessons, and it’s clearly a skill I should have in a place like this. I don’t want to have to depend solely on Zhori for my protection, as much as I appreciate having him around. But…
I was definitely hoping he would finish that sentence in a different way.
Zhori steps out quickly to find us some food, and we eat a quick breakfast of hot cereal when he returns. I’m not a huge fan of the Nierran breakfast foods, although he managed to find a fruit that tastes similar to a strawberry, which he cuts up and scatters over the top of the bowl. That small addition improves the taste quite a bit.
“You’re surprisingly domestic,” I tell him as I dig in gratefully.
“Domestic?” He lifts an eyebrow as he sits down, taking a big bite of the cereal without giving it much time to cool down.
I wave my hand to indicate our bowls.
“Cooking. Cutting up fruit to make the food taste better. Hell, even shopping for clothes for me and managing to get something basically my size and halfway decent.”
“Is that not something males do on Terra?”
“The good ones do. Or they help anyway. But a lot of people think those sorts of things are just for women.”
Zhori snorts. “Kalix has not had females on our planet for many, many years. If I waited on a woman to make my food better, or to make it at all, I would have starved to death years ago.” He shrugs. “But that’s all I’ve ever known. It makes no sense to me why I should suddenly expect you to prepare everything.”
“It’s a nice change of pace, that’s all.” I tell him. “And I appreciate it.”
He grins. “I’m glad. Make sure you eat plenty. You’re going to need it.”
We start our training session as soon as we finish breakfast, and I realize very quickly what Zhori meant about getting a good breakfast. I’m going to need the fuel.
I’ve never been the most athletic person. I played softball in high school and jog recreationally, just to keep in decent shape. But that’s nothing compared to sparring with a Kalixian warrior.
Ten minutes into Zhori teaching me some of his fight moves, I’m already sweating despite the slight chill in the room.
“Hang on,” I tell him, trying to catch my breath. “I need a sec. This shit is hard.”
He circles me, grinning down at me with the familiar cocky grin that makes me want to punch him and kiss him all at once.
“If you’re in a fight, your opponent isn’t going to wait for you to catch your breath,” he points out, and I roll my eyes as I straighten up.
“Oh, shut up,” I shoot back, but I know he can hear the playfulness in my tone. “All right, fine. Give it to me again.”
Something flickers in his eyes at those last words, but he just advances on me, smoothly blocking a strike as I try to punch him.
“You need to be one step ahead of your opponent,” he tells me. “A smaller fighter has an advantage, because you can duck and weave in ways that someone with more mass may not be able to. Not everything is about brute force.” He grins at me. “And I know you’ve got a fighter’s spirit, from that kick in the balls you gave me.”
A flush warms my cheeks as I remember how I attacked him without thinking before I knew he was trying to rescue me. But I grin back at him, because I can tell he’s not mad about it—although I don’t doubt he’ll give me shit about it for a long time. Honestly, he seems more impressed than anything else.
I like that about Zhori. He’s serious when he needs to be, determined and brave, as he’s shown over and over again. But he’s also confident and brash,
cocky in the sexy way that guys in movies are, when they know they’ve got charm and style and game to back it up. Guys in real life are never like that. They’re always cocky for no damn reason.
But Zhori has everything to back it up. Looks, charm, and humor. Strength and skill.
And just as he has since the day we met, he’s trying in yet another way to help me and protect me by teaching me to fight. He’s kind, on top of everything else. He seemed so savage and barbaric the first time I saw him, but getting to know Zhori has shown me that he’s so much more than that.
We go through move after move for what feels like hours.
Zhori shows me how to sweep an opponent’s legs out from under them or take out their knee or ankle with a well-placed kick. He shows me how to break out of a chokehold, how to put someone into one, and how to grapple with an opponent—even one so much bigger than me, like he is.
As he wraps an arm around my neck, gently enough not to hurt me but firmly enough that I have to wriggle out of it, something seems to shift between us. My heart skips a beat as arousal pulses through me.
The hard lines of his muscled frame are solid behind me as his arm flexes against my throat, and I feel the slight press of his cock against my lower back. Maybe I’m imagining it, but when I work my way out of the headlock and turn around, I swear I get a glimpse of him half-hard beneath the leather of his loincloth.
My mouth goes suddenly dry as I try to catch my breath.
At least I can blame being flushed and breathless on the exercise, I think wryly as Zhori comes toward me, grabbing my arms and pulling me into something like a bear hug.
He smells so fucking good. His skin smells faintly of almond and musk, an addictive scent that makes my hormones go wild.
I try to focus, to push aside any thoughts besides ones pertaining directly to what we’re doing, but it feels more and more impossible as we keep going. I’m so attracted to him. I’ve been attracted to him since he wrestled me down to the floor outside of that pod, and now that I’m getting to know him it’s only gotten worse.
