by Mia Downing
“You have a tattoo.” The words sounded strangled, which was how I felt.
“I told you I did.” He finished making coffee and smiled as he turned. His smile faded, probably because I was scrunched on the bed, the sheet clutched to my breasts as if warding off a murderer. “You okay?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I breathed in, trying to calm the fear.
“I know this is a lot. I bet you’re a little apprehensive.” He held the coffee out like a peace offering.
“Apprehensive is a mild word.” My hands shook as I tucked the sheet under my pits and took the cup. My mind flew over our conversation last night in and around the mind-blowing sex that led to me…doing what? “What the hell happened last night?”
He’d gone back to the tray and had made his own cup, and he now contemplated me with a calm, sure gaze that did nothing to reassure me. “We had sex.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” I sipped. Good lord, the man could make a cup of coffee as good as the orgasms he’d given me. “It was really good sex.”
“Thank you. I agree.”
“But…there was some weird stuff that went down in and around the incredible sex. I am not sure how to ask about that, but you said you’d answer.”
He nodded and took another sip. “Yes, I’ll answer whatever you want to know.”
“Can you like, put on a shirt?” The bare, golden skin bothered me. Every time he lifted the cup to his lips, everything rippled—his pecs, his abs, his bicep. His lips puckered to sip, and my nipples and clit ached for a repeat of last night. The shirt wouldn’t help the whole lip action, but maybe my hormones would calm down.
“Okay.” But his mouth twitched like he’d known this could be an issue for me. Damn the man.
He went to the other side of the bed where he’d draped a white linen, button-down shirt. Fuck me sideways, why couldn’t he just pull on a T-shirt instead of the shirt I’d stripped off him?
He finished buttoning and ran a hand through his hair. “Before we start, I want to ask something.”
I gestured for him to go on, unable to speak.
“This is going to sound odd, because I asked it before.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as his jaw flexed. “But now, after having sex with me…do you remember me? Even just a little?”
How did I answer that? Yes, Marek, I’ve had soft-porn dreams about removing your leather pants with my teeth. I’m glad the image finally has a face. Because that was crazy.
Instead, I said, “No.”
His face fell, and he tilted his head with an almost pleading look. “Are you sure?”
“Why would I not be sure? I don’t know you. I don’t understand where you’re from or why you knew about the after and why you could give me that. What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. You and I are…different.” His long fingers raked through his hair again as he shoved it out of his face. “This would be a lot easier if you remembered me.”
“But I don’t, so you’d better get to the point.” I clutched the sheet tighter, the cup trembling in my hand as I fought to remain calm.
He glanced down at his bare feet, his hands clenching into fists on his hips. He drew in a deep breath that seemed to suck air from his toes, met my gaze, and said, “Okay. So I think what should happen is you get dressed and have more coffee and something to eat. Then I’ll return, and we can have this conversation.”
“Why not now?”
He blinked a few times and swallowed, his gaze forlorn. “Because you look terrified of me, and I can’t get through this if you’re scared. You need a minute. And I need a minute. Okay?” His voice broke on that last word as if somehow, I’d shattered something inside him.
“Okay.”
“There’s a shower in the bathroom.” He pointed to the corner door. “There are fresh towels. I’ll come up when you’re ready.”
“How do I let you know?”
He sighed, dejected. “Just…unshield for a moment. I’ll know.”
He cast me one last, longing look before he left me alone to regroup.
Marek
I walked the ten steps to the staircase and sank down on the top stair, my head falling into my hands as I fought to breathe. Since she’d put up her shield, she couldn’t feel me panicking now. It didn’t matter that I shook and fought the burn of tears.
I hadn’t cried in years, not since Skye had come to me at age nineteen, terrified and sobbing because she’d been told by the healer that she was barren—most elite women were. I had cried with her as I held her, inhaling her lavender scent as she shook. It hadn’t mattered to me that she couldn’t get pregnant. I’d only wanted her. But having no family, she’d wanted a child before we started time traveling. Time travel made one sterile, and being elite lowered the chances of pregnancy anyway. She had just gotten there prematurely.
Sighing, I lifted my head, regaining composure. This Skye had cowered in my bed, her white knuckles clutching stark sheets to her breasts…and I couldn’t hold her. That had hit me like a sucker punch. I would never hurt her. Not then, not now, not ever.
I was just a stranger who’d given her orgasms and an explosion of joy that she didn’t understand.
But she’d had the memories before…she’d known me once. What had happened to erase me?
I had always blamed the Rai curse for our demise. Our horrible, last conversation had somehow come to life in the clutches of a curse. And that curse had come back to haunt me today.
If I could just put the necklace back in the right place in time…maybe she’d remember me.
Skye
I entered the kitchen with the tray, feeling more composed after a quick shower and eating one of his muffins. Damn, the man could cook, and I felt guilty. He’d shown me an excellent evening with delicious food and decadent sex, and I’d been less than appreciative.
I now regretted my reaction earlier. Yes, it had been shocking to see him in leather with a tattoo, and he kept asking if I remembered him. Maybe all this had something to do with the people we had in common, the ones who had given me away. And the dirty dreams had to be my active imagination at work somehow. Maybe our once-shared community was full of hot men with leather pants and tattoos.
Marek had offered me something I had always wanted—a feeling of completeness.
And the dirty part of me had wanted an after since I’d dreamed about it at sixteen. I’d done stupid things as a teen—like Ecstasy—to try to achieve an after with those three, mediocre guys. They’d told me it would be good, and I’d fly. They were mistaken. I’d learned my lesson, though, and I just avoided men, dating, and sex.
Until last night. Last night, I had flown.
I unloaded the tray and refilled the carafe with fresh coffee. I’d had two cups, but something told me we’d need more as he explained everything about the after and the energy. And maybe I’d learn more about my past, too.
With anticipation in my step, I took the tray across the hall to the library. I walked in the open door to find Marek at his desk, his eyes closed as he propped his head on his hand.
“Marek?”
His eyes fluttered open, and he sat taller, withdrawing his hand as he gave me a sad half-smile. “Sweetness. You didn’t call me.”
“I thought it would be better if I came down.” I held up the tray. “I got us more coffee, if you still want to have our discussion.”
“Yes, of course.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I have a headache.” He sighed.
“From last night?” I set the tray on the table, feeling guilty. “Was it the booze? Would it be better if I left? Have you taken anything?”
His smile broadened as he rose from his desk, crossing the room to stand at the head of the table just inches from me. “No, it wasn’t the booze. Yes, from last night. I want you to stay. And no, it will go away soon.”
“Okay. Good. Good.” I busied myself with pouring coffee, hoping my hands didn’t shake
too much.
Damn it. Why did he make me nervous? Was it the fact that I’d used his soap in the shower and had dirty thoughts about how that manly-smelling bar had once lathered the naughty bits of him? Or the fact that I had assessed whether his shower was big enough for both of us? Because it was. My filthy mind had gone right there despite the cleansing going on.
“Skye.”
I stopped pouring and looked up.
His gaze had gone dark, his pupils dilating as he bit his bottom lip. I found it damned sexy. “I want to claim kiss two-a.”
“I—” I gulped and set down the carafe. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
I had come downstairs, so we’d be farther from the bed. That had seemed like a wise decision, given I was still having aftershocks of desire. This close, he beckoned to me wordlessly like a chocolate cake in a glass case, waiting to be devoured. I swear, I’d never felt this before. And I wanted to indulge in that “cake” again. And again.
He shot me a decadent, dirty smile. “It’s a great idea. We both enjoyed each other yesterday, yes? The discussions, the tour, our dinner…” His knuckles brushed mine on the table.
Oh, the shocks of pleasure. Even shielded, that touch sent a shimmer of energy straight to my core and down to my toes. And since I’d tucked my dirty panties into my front pocket, I no longer had a barrier between my skin and my jeans to dampen. That wasn’t good.
No. I did not want kiss two-a. I gulped. “Yes, but—”
“So I think we need a kiss to remind us of that connection, that there’s more to this than the sex and the after.”
“Oh.” My brain fogged, and my gaze dropped to his lean hips hugged by black leather. How did kissing remind us that we had conversation in common? But I licked my lips in anticipation as I raised my gaze. If he told me he wanted to kiss to remind me that we both had cars in common, I would have accepted that. “Okay.”
“Good.” He leaned in, his mouth just inches from mine as he asked, “Rules?”
“No tongue.” I’d probably tackle him to the ground if he deepened the kiss at all. My breathing hitched in anticipation. “No groping.”
He closed the distance, his lips slanting across mine in a soft, gentle kiss as he cupped the back of my head. His mouth caressed mine in short kisses that grew progressively longer as he varied the pressure or the slant or how he nibbled. My hands went to his hips, the leather of his pants inviting and warm under my palms. Unable to help myself, I let them creep along until I could caress his ass, smoothing his firm cheeks.
Smiling against my mouth, he grabbed my hands and returned them to his waist. Lifting his head, he chided, “That’s groping.”
“It’s leather.” I wanted to groan and grab again, pulling him to me to test whether he was hard or not. “If you don’t want me to grope, don’t wear them.”
He dipped his head to kiss my neck on that sweet, sensitive spot that sent tremors over every nerve. “I could take them off…”
“No!” I pulled away, wiping my damp palms on my thighs. “We need to get to the bottom of things, and I don’t mean your bottom.”
“Fair enough.” He gave me a quick peck and went to the other side of the table to sit. He took the coffee I offered, and I sat as well.
“So.” I finished fixing my coffee and took a swig—delicious as before. “Maybe we should start with the energy and the after.”
“That’s a good place to start.” Relief flooded his face as he relaxed and sipped from his mug. “Why don’t you tell me what your thoughts are, and I’ll fill in what you don’t know.”
“Okay.” I ran my finger over the handle on my mug as self-conscious nerves took over. “It seems like everyone has some sort of energy—people, animals, even ghosts—but the strength levels are all different. Some people are oblivious to my energy, while a vast majority are…put off. At least, they were before I learned to keep it in.”
His brows rose as he nodded. “That’s the shield you talked about. That you have up now.”
“Yes. When I was little—” I dropped my gaze to my hands, clutched around my mug like it would grow legs and flee.
“Skye.”
My gaze snapped to his intense one.
“You don’t have to be ashamed or feel weird or whatever you’re feeling. You’re safe.”
Safe. I had longed to hear those words for so long. And he’d made me feel protected last night, so I could sleep. My energy liked his, and that was always a good sign. It liked Grace, too. Maybe I could trust him just a little.
I nodded and dropped my gaze to my cup. “After my first home, I lost a lot of potential homes with good people because I was just peculiar. Odd. I had a lot of therapy to help me sort out my issues. They assessed me for different syndromes and conditions to find a reason…and they found nothing. Which was worse, because then, I was just an odd, little girl who didn’t speak English well and wanted to wear dresses all the time.”
I closed my eyes on the cold, sad memories that I hadn’t shared with anyone. It was weird to tell stuff I’d never told my best friend to a guy I’d slept with once. But unlike Grace, Marek had the same energy. We had some sort of past connection. He should get it.
“So when did you learn to put up a barrier to protect yourself?” Marek prompted.
“I was young. One day, I just couldn’t take it anymore. There were too many kids, and energy-wise, it was just too loud. And it hurt.” I shrugged. “So I just…wished I could block it out. I thought really hard, and it happened. It was hit or miss at first, but I got good at sealing it all out until it became second nature. Since I wasn’t as creepy and odd, I got some better homes though they never kept me long. Eventually, I became a problem in one way or another.”
And sometimes, the people in the homes became problems for me.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
I stared at him a long moment, counting the buttons on his linen shirt. He had four I could see. My gaze snapped to his as my brain jumped to the next question. “You seemed surprised that I could shield myself. Can you not do that?”
He shrugged. “They teach us to mute the energy from those around us, but it’s not as solid as your shield. There’s no reason to need that level. And once you’re bonded, the other energies fade some.”
“Bonded?” I remembered that word from last night.
“That’s when you connected our energy together.”
I nodded as I recalled the mixing of his yellow energy with my blue to make that gorgeous green and how divine it had felt to bask in that combined force. “So having done that, I shouldn’t be as bothered by others now? Because though I’m protected, the energy breaks through if they touch me. Sometimes, it’s revolting and makes me ill.” I shuddered.
Marek cocked his head as he thought about it. “You may be repulsed at times, but you should have less issues now.”
I liked the idea of that. People were too touchy at the bookstore, especially older clients. I had no way to ward off their gentle pats or hands grabbing my elbow to steady themselves.
But I recalled the terror I had felt at locating and following Marek’s presence like a cheap GPS. “But when I was unprotected, I could feel your energy. I knew you were happy and a little worried. I even knew where you were in the house.”
If I could feel him, did that meant he’d known I was terrified? What else would he be able to feel about me?
“That’s a part of being bonded that takes time getting used to. But that can be great, too.” Marek nodded as he poured fresh brew into his mug, breaking into an encouraging smile. “And that closeness we share is how you got the after effect.”
“Oh, yes.” I’d have to come back to more questions about this bond, because something told me that was the tip of the iceberg explanation. I brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “What is the after effect?”
“Well, you experienced it. It’s the ability to take that bond between us and use an orgasm to create more energy.”
“And you said something to the effect that they didn’t want us to know about that? I don’t understand. Who is this they?”
“I said that?” Mouth thinning, he blinked, as if remembering. “Well, that’s…complicated and not something we need to go into right now. But yes, the after is a…bonus…of being bonded.”
“Okay.” I shifted in my chair, a little aroused as I recalled the bonuses. Oh, yes. But he kept steering me around certain topics, and that made me a little suspicious. My whole life, people had skirted the truth. And now that I had found someone who could answer some questions, I wanted to know everything right now.
I shoved the horniness out of the way and dug deeper. “So…why do we have this energy? I mean, normal people don’t bond and get afters from it. Is this something that this group who abandoned me was…experimenting with? Are we some sort of psychic freaks?” That had always been a wild, out there, origin prediction. That and aliens.
“You’re not a freak.” His expression clouded, his mouth a hard, firm line. “There’s nothing wrong with being gifted.”
“The ability has a name.”
“Yes, and where we’re from, you’d be a celebrity because your gift is powerful and unique. You’d be anything but a freak, and it’s too bad these people are unable to see your worth.”
Wow, I’d never had someone stand up for me with such vehemence, his tone scathing for all those who has set me aside in the past. A prick of heat stung my eyes as tears threatened. Quickly, I blinked them away and concentrated on refilling my cup. My hands shook, and I ended up spilling coffee on the table.
“Damn it,” I muttered as I shot to my feet.
“I’ll get paper towels.” Marek rose and left through the door to the kitchen.
I took that moment to compose myself, breathing in deep breaths to center the anxiety and pain that echoed from my shitty childhood. This guy had just gained more brownie points. He could cook, was excellent in bed, made damned good coffee, and he was quick to defend me. A little late to the party since it was all in the past, but I appreciated it.
