by Rena Marks
“Not yet.” His large hand cupped the back of her head, bringing her face up to his, where he kissed her thoroughly, but this time, somewhat desperately. As if he didn’t want to let other thoughts intrude in his head, either.
“Trance,” she sighed in that breathless way she did around him. But things were okay again. She was firmly grounded again—rooted for a lack of a better word. Rooted in this world—this reality—and happy again.
“We have a little time,” he said against her lips. “Make the best of it?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, Leah. So very much.”
He was the most handsome man in the world. He almost looked human, except he’d probably have to get a license for the unusual color of his eyes. If they lived on the outside, that was. Even having a natural hair color other than brown required a license. Though with enough money, a person could purchase a license for colored hair. Nothing fancy, just the normal range of highlights. His eyes were a deep, piercing royal purple. And his pupils? Instead of being the normal black, they were gold. But everything else on his body could pass—except for his marvelous cock. That was pretty alien as all get out. But they’d been married a month now and she craved him still, like the newlyweds they were.
“Whose place are we working at this morning?”
“It’s Pax and Serena’s. I can’t believe no one told me they weren’t triplets,” she said, shaking her head. That one had thrown her for a loop. Pax had multiples…other personalities that emerged from his body. They always made huge amounts of food because one never knew which multiple would emerge at dinner time. Two of them had requested cooking lessons, so she had first assumed that Envy, Impatience, and Pax were a set of triplets. Since then, others began popping out.
“Sometimes we see what we want to see.” He grinned. “And your delicate human mind wasn’t ready to see there were other rules in the reality of Xenia.”
“I wish this was real.” Despite her resolve not to shake her happy thoughts, that truth burst forth.
“It is real, Leah.”
She smiled at him, somewhat sadly. “Yeah, I know.”
“Hey,” he said. “Let’s skip work for an hour. We’ll change the menu for something that cooks a little faster. You have an extra set of handsome hands”—he wiggled his fingers—“so we can afford a delay.”
“Um, okay,” she said. “But why?”
He lifted her up into his arms. “So I can please my gorgeous wife.”
He was so perfect. She giggled as together they retreated backward…back toward their apartment which she’d just left. His mouth was glued to hers, so she pressed her open palm to the door to get it to unlock. They tumbled inside, the door slamming shut behind them.
He unfastened the waistband of his pants, so she did the same to her own. He removed his shirt in the sexy way she loved, by reaching back and dragging it over his head. Every ripple of muscle slowly exposed with the lift of the shirt. She gulped. No matter how many times they had sex—and it had been countless at this point—she craved him like she did the first time they’d made love.
She kicked out of her panties and he helped her out of her bra, flinging it over the sofa as they scrambled to the bedroom. Once there, she pushed him onto the bed and straddled him. She lined his already formed, hard cock up to her wet pussy and sank down.
She was so ready there was just a burning need between them. Slowly she pumped her hips, circling them onto his length. She knew she didn’t have to move, but sometimes things were just instinctual. Catching her eyes, he reached up and licked his thumb, then deliberately brought it to wet his apparatus that lined up with her clit. As expected, the smaller penile tissue expanded to clamp onto her clit. The suction was light but so spot on. The rest of him prodded at her opening, filling her.
It didn’t take long to explode, her body convulsing around him. He allowed himself to release as soon as she did, timing it perfectly.
She collapsed on his chest, his cock still twitching inside her. They panted for a couple of minutes before she spoke. “You know now we’ll have to rush to make it there?”
His hand rubbed her naked back. “It was so worth it. Tell me it was worth it.”
“Hell, yes, it was worth it.”
“But now, gorgeous wife, you’ve made us late,” he teased. “Go wipe up and I’ll take the other bathroom. Yell out the ingredients you need and I’ll have one of the kids at the mess hall box it up for us.” Telepathic communication among the Xeno Sapiens was a huge convenience.
“Great idea,” she said, kissing him briefly before pulling off him. Her sheath felt empty without him buried inside her. “Aww, I hate when we’re separated.”
His hand trailed up her thigh, smacking her lightly on the rear as he rose.
She walked down the wide hallway into one bathroom as he headed to the other. Once there, she dipped a washrag into a bit of soapy water she ran into the sink. Thinking fast, she decided to go with an Asian-inspired meal, so she called out the ingredients to him. “A bag of noodles. Four roots of Bok choy. Soy sauce. Rice vinegar. Brown sugar. Two onions. A bulb of garlic. Three carrots. A bag of Jasmine rice. Two pounds of thinly sliced beef. One pound of ground pork. Wonton wrappers. Two eggs. I think that’s it.”
“Got it,” he called out. “One of the kids will get it prepared.”
They had to meet back in the living room to sort through their scattered clothing, giggling as they passed items back and forth.
Trance twirled her bra around his finger by the strap. “I assume this piece is yours?”
She arched her back, pushing her naked breasts out into the air. “I’d shoot myself if not.” She laughed.
He was completely dressed and she was a hot mess drooling over her husband. He wagged his finger at her. “Uh, uh. Don’t look at me like that. You’re already late. The next set of orgasms will have to wait for tonight.”
“I know. You’re right. I’m going to have to squeeze my eyes closed while I get dressed because you are just too tempting for me, husband,” she teased. She loved the way they called each other that—being newlyweds and all. Instead of simply getting mated, she’d chosen to go the human route with Trance. The reason why was a dark spot in her life. But she didn’t want to have her previous marriage as a dark mar forever. She wanted to have a second marriage to wipe that first one from existence. Trance was on board with that.
He laughed. “How about if I go pick up the box of ingredients, my wife? I’ll meet you in the same place as earlier?”
“Would you?” She didn’t care that she was naked and he was dressed. She flung herself into his arms. As usual, they immediately wrapped around her, holding her tight. She loved this. It was like he couldn’t get enough of her.
“Of course. You know I’d do anything for you.” He kissed the top of her head. “See you in a few minutes.”
It was easier to get dressed once he’d left the apartment because she could avoid thinking dirty thoughts about him. Life was so perfect. She was so glad she’d taken a chance and married Trance.
Chance. Trance. Her mind kind of slowed and the world warbled for a minute. God, she loved that luscious Xeno Sapien. That incredibly hot, sexy Xeno Sapien. Chance. Trance.
That rhymed, she said to herself. So rhymed. She shook her head, feeling a bit dazed. Was she drugged? No, she wasn’t. She’d never touched anything mind-altering.
Shaking her head cleared it, brought her thoughts back to where they should be. In order.
Dammit, where was her bra? She just had it a second ago. Quickly, she walked back to the bedroom to grab another flimsy lace thing. Trance preferred the dainty, thin pieces, even though she teased him constantly that the purpose of a bra was to cover up poking nipples.
Not that it was possible to cover them up whenever he was around anyway. Even a padded bra wouldn’t accomplish the job.
She sat down on their bed with her scrap of lace, about to shrug the straps over her shoulders
.
A faint beeping came from the alarm on the nightstand. Damn it, she already knew she was late. She didn’t need a chirping reminder. She sprawled across the bed, stretching herself to reach the shut off button. But the damn thing continued chirping. She fiddled with it until it crashed.
Crashed.
She’d knocked it off the nightstand, smashed it to bits but it continued to chirp.
She felt herself being pulled from the dregs of her brain, feeling like cotton was stuffed into her head through her ears.
“Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no,” she moaned. Because she knew what this was. She waded through darkness, heaviness and then, suddenly bleary-eyed, she stared at the reality of the crashed alarm box, sprawled on the floor. A different floor. Not a large two bedroom apartment she shared with Trance, but a one bedroom that belonged to her alone. Lord, it didn’t even feel as if she’d been dreaming. No, this time it felt like she’d been in some kind of drugged trance. She’d been staring at the box when she woke.
Her dreams were getting worse. Or better, however you wanted to think of it.
But, shit. If the rapidly chirping alarm was any indication, she was late. She scrambled out of bed, took a two minute shower and brushed her teeth in there, one hand scrubbing soap onto her body while the other scrubbed her mouth. She barely dried off, shook out her wet hair, and grabbed the top half to knot into a loose bun. It was easier to take care of now that it was shorter. After work when her hair dried, she could remove the bun and it would fall into loose, face-framing waves. Not that anyone would care about the waves of her hair.
She’d chopped it to throw off the trail of her ex-husband, the wife-beater. She squirmed. It was still hard to believe that she’d been one of those women. A woman who made excuses for a man who hit her. A marriage that had tainted her and had marked her as stupid. As needy.
No time to make the bed. Her apartment showed the effects of her excessive sleeping lately. Or lack of, because were the trance-like states considered sleep? Towel flung over the shower stall messily. Nightgown tangled in the bed sheets because she kept unconsciously stripping herself naked during the night. Broken alarm box scattered on the floor. The third one she’d have to order this month. Clothes flung around in her closet.
But the mess would have to wait.
She hurried from her apartment, ignoring the one right next door. The one he lived in.
Trance. But in this life, her sponsor. Not her husband.
Through the main hall she hurried, bumping into—of all people—her self-proclaimed best friend, Tempest.
“Leah.” Tempest was beautiful, like model-perfect at all times. It was no wonder her mate, Shawn, was head over heels for her.
“Sorry, Temp. Running behind,” she said, hurrying through. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Yes, girlfriend.” Tempest narrowed her eyes at her. “We have to talk, Leah. You’re running ragged.”
“I know!” She blew Tempest a kiss. Mostly because, yeah, she cared for the crazy Xeno Sapien woman. But also because she wanted to see what the goofball would do.
Tempest didn’t let her down. She raised her hand and caught the airborne “kiss.” Then, not knowing what to do with it, she rolled her eyes and shoved it in her pocket.
Leah laughed. Oh, Lord, that was just the thing she needed. Tempest’s reactions were always priceless. She burst through the massive, double doors of the main hub to bright sunshine. Dozens of Xeno Sapiens milled about on the front steps. And as she hurried to get down the steps, she saw the same sight from her dreams.
Trance, holding a box of food ingredients in his arms.
She stared at him in shock, her harried brain flung right back into her recent dreams over this instant sense of déjà vu.
This time, of course, they weren’t married. That was just a figment of her imagination. Along with all the hot sex they had. The fact that they still lived together was made up, too. Embarrassing, really. The time they’d lived together had been brief and was strained since she’d moved out.
She had a sense of hero-worship because he’d helped lock her ex-husband away. It was a one bedroom, and sleeping awkwardly in the same bed was probably the cause of her sexual dreams. But Trance was in no way her husband. Not while in the awake world. Only in the world of her dreams.
“You’re late,” he said, his gorgeous eyes taking in her wet hair. His voice wasn’t the gentle, loving tone from her dreams. More matter of fact, wary. Controlled. The way it was ever since she’d tossed their friendship away by moving out.
“I know. I’m sleeping in and yet I’m more exhausted than if I never slept. Is that for me?”
Instead of handing her the box, he held it closer to his chest. “Yes. I’ll carry it.”
She took a quick peek inside. Bok choy. Carrots. Soy sauce. Noodles. Wonton wrappers. All the ingredients for an Asian inspired meal. A recipe that was one of her fall-backs because it was quick to produce with its simplicity. And yet delicious. A favorite recipe.
From her dream.
“Where did you get this?” she snapped at Trance. She was always snapping at Trance. Perhaps that was why he was so wary, but he didn’t seem to understand that she didn’t need a man. Would never again need a man. In fact, never wanted anything to do with another man as long as she lived, because quite frankly, that was the only reason why she still lived.
Except for her damn dreams, which she lived for. God, her and Trance. Married. It was the one place she could be happy.
He looked straight at her. “You asked me to get these ingredients. It’s a backup recipe for the days when you run late. You’ll have to remember to mark in your notes later which recipe you changed today’s schedule for.”
Her panic cleared. That made sense. She wasn’t thinking clearly, probably because of her sleep patterns. She kept forgetting small details here and there. An appointment with Robyn. Twice she’d mixed up her cooking lessons. She’d be lucky if she wasn’t fired.
“You don’t have to come with me to work,” she said.
“I won’t stay. I just need to make sure you get there all right.” His jaw was set stubbornly. “We need to talk.”
Ugh, those words.
“Yeah. Unfortunately, Tempest wants to get together and talk, too. I don’t have time for all this talking.”
“Make time, Leah. You’re about to crash and burn, running on pure adrenaline like you are. You’re trying to avoid your feelings—”
“Trance, I don’t need someone taking care of me,” she said. It was a conversation they had many times. A conversation that caused her to move out of his one room apartment and into the vacant apartment next door. A punishment, but for either him or her, she wasn’t sure. Because, hell, how could she keep living with the man who was so kind as to sponsor her when she kept having these weird sexual fantasies about him? Had completely made up another world in her dreams where they were husband and wife? She was as bad as Brock. The only difference was she wasn’t writing her stories in a diary. She was dreaming them instead.
“Okay,” he sighed. “You don’t want to talk. How about a trade-off? You just hang with me, put my mind at ease. And we’ll skip the talk. I’ll even have Tempest back off with her own talk. Tell her to be your friend but leave the ‘talks’ aside.”
Leah felt a weight lift from her shoulders. “I’d like that.”
“Come on, then. Pax’s multiples are waiting.”
She stopped abruptly. How the hell did Trance know who was on her schedule today? She knew she couldn’t have told him.
That was one of the two cooking lessons she’d screwed up.
Chapter Ten
WHEN NEXT SHE SLEPT, she screamed for him. Remembering where she left off, but the timeline had changed, as it frequently did when she left. The lines were starting to blur now. It was becoming increasingly difficult to recall which world was real. Because they both felt like it while you were in the middle of them. And she knew which one she preferred.
>
“I’m here, baby. I’m here,” he soothed, holding her close in their bed as she sobbed.
“It was awful. It was the other side,” she babbled. “You were there, but you’re not my husband there. You’re my sponsor. We fight a lot. And when I left? I was just going to put my bra on and meet you out front to go to Pax and Serena’s. Remember you were gathering the food ingredients?” She was barely aware of his nod. “But the alarm was chirping and when I went to turn it off, it fell onto the ground and broke. But it still chirped. Then the chirping woke me and, it was the other side. The same broken alarm but it chirped on both sides. I hurried and got ready and he was there. Waiting for me. He had the same ingredients in the box, Trance. It freaked me the hell out. And he knew the appointment was at Pax’s. He shouldn’t have known because it wasn’t on the schedule. But he did. He wouldn’t give me a good explanation either. I can tell he’s hiding something and it’s so suspicious and I don’t trust him—”
“What other side?” His voice was wary. “What are you talking about?”
He sounded as cagey here as he did over there. “The side I go to when I wake. Or when I sleep. I’m not sure which is which anymore. I don’t know which one is the real one.”
“We need to get you some help,” he whispered against her hair. And then he teased, “This world or the other.”
“What do you mean by help?”
He shrugged. “One of the doctors needs to know of your sleeping habits. Your dreaming patterns.”
“I don’t want my dreams taken from me!” Her voice was almost shrill. What if they took the wrong life? She couldn’t lose Trance.
“Hey, wife,” he rumbled, rolling over so his body covered hers. His arms supported his weight. “No one is taking anything away from you. I promise.”
She calmed a bit. “You promise, husband?” Her voice was back to its teasing tone.
“I promise.” He nipped her lower lip. “What are we going to do when we’re not newlyweds anymore? Will it be creepy to call each other husband and wife when we’re eighty?”
