The Darkest Touch

by Gena Showalter

  Her scowl darkened.

  Since the ground wasn't vibrating in time with the incoming footsteps, he doubted the visitor was a giant. As long as the creature meant Keeley no harm, it would walk away. One wrong move, in word or deed, however, and that would change.

  Keeley sighed and trudged toward the safety zone. "Fine. Whatever. I'm in too good a mood to argue."

  Really? "This is a good mood?" The sun wasn't exactly shining brightly.

  She tripped over a vine--no, not a vine. A booby trap. Very much like the one Torin had rigged in the other realm. The ensuing click and whoosh gave it away. As she landed on her knees, a spear shot from a hole in a tree. Destination: her heart.

  "No!" Torin dove in her direction.

  She caught the weapon by the hilt before it could sink inside her chest--or his.

  He rolled at impact and popped to his feet, his relief short-lived. Two humans burst from the foliage. His mind shot out facts like bullets. Males. Primitive. Each wore a loincloth and held one of those man-made spears. Probably the humans the giants like to hunt.

  The one on the right spotted Keeley and lifted his spear, preparing to throw it.

  Enemy.

  Once again, Torin didn't waste time with negotiations. He simply tossed his blade; it sliced through the male's throat, blood spurting out as he tumbled to his knees, then to his face, his weapon useless.

  The other man--let's call him Tarzan--scowled and lifted his own spear.

  Torin palmed another blade. "I wouldn't if I were you."

  "Oh, goody." Keeley jumped up and clapped, a ray of sunshine suddenly spotlighting her. "Two sexy warriors battling to the death. This is so much better than the spider fight. You've got my stamp of approval, Torin. Carry on."

  Tarzan's dark eyes widened with a little shock and a lot of hatred. "You," he gasped out. "We'd heard you were back, but I thought the rumors were unfounded, that you would never dare return."

  "Me?" She looked behind her before tapping her chest. "I think you have the wrong girl."

  "As if you could be forgotten. You nearly destroyed my entire village, ripping out all of our sacred trees by the root--in a single blink--and pummeling the entire clan with them."

  "Did I? Well, I'm sure I had good reason." She tapped her chin, thoughtful. "But I'm having trouble locating the memory. Perhaps this is another casualty of the Time Out box."

  Torin kept his attention on Tarzan and his blade at the ready.

  "Oh, I know!" Keeley said. "Your people habitually throw children into pits of fire as a sacrifice to your gods." Her eyes narrowed as the tree beside her shot out of the ground and hovered in the air. "I have a big problem with that."

  "And I have a problem with you." Tarzan raced toward her, a lethal missile. Midway, she batted the tree at him. He was ready for the attack and ducked, going under the trunk--and then he just kept coming.

  Torin tossed the knife, nailing the guy in the chest--no, the back. The warrior moved faster than expected...and slammed into Keeley, knocking her down, pinning her to the ground and wrapping his hands around her neck, skin-to-skin.

  A dark haze fell over Torin, a savage roar bursting from deep in his throat. He threw himself at the guy, ripping him away from Keeley. They hit the ground and rolled, Tarzan taking the brunt of impact. The moment they stopped moving, Torin sat up and whaled. The guy's nose broke. His lip shredded, and his teeth popped out. His jaw snapped out of place.

  "You don't touch the queen ever."

  Tarzan's eyes closed, the rest of him going lax. His head lolled to the side.

  Torin did not let up. The Red Queen was his. His alone. No one else's hands would ever make contact with her. He would die first.

  "Enough," Keeley called. "Alive, he'll make an excellent lab experiment. It's the reason I didn't flash him away before he attacked."

  To find out just what kind of disease she would spread? Smart.

  Torin glared down at Tarzan. "Congratulations. I've decided to spare you--so that I can watch you suffer." He straightened, his gaze flicking to Keeley. She remained on the ground, and concern propelled him to her side.

  "What's wrong, princess?"

  She braced her weight on her elbows, hanks of bright red hair framing overbright cheeks. Bruises already marred the elegant line of her throat. After nibbling on her bottom lip, she said, "I might have twisted my ankle."

  "Let me see." He gently lifted the hem of her sweats. Slight swelling, minor redness. Rage bombarded him. He made to stand up and return to Tarzan-- Will rip out his throat...with my teeth. But Keeley wrapped her fingers around his wrist, stopping him.

  "You have blood on your face," she said, a soft, girly inflection to her tone...one that made his chest constrict painfully.

  "Not mine." He wanted to replace the memory of being choked with a memory of pleasure. That he couldn't...another bomb of rage detonated. "Let's get out of here before more guys with spears show up." He used vines to tie Tarzan to him, planning to drag the warrior behind him, then lifted Keeley in his arms, careful not to expose any of his skin.

  She snuggled against him, happy, a ray of sunlight staying locked on them as he trudged forward. "Torin...you know how I said I twisted my ankle? Well, I did. But I also healed."

  "Want me to put you down?"

  "The opposite. I want you to hold me closer." She started nibbling on her bottom lip again. "Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but what we did in the cabin has only made my craving for you worse."

  Strong currents of lust overtook him. "Don't talk like that."

  "Don't tell the truth?"

  "You only make things harder for me."

  "That's the point!" she said. "We both want a happy ending. But maybe I also want it a little more in between...."

  Resist.

  Heading north, he came across multiple booby traps. He figured what was left of Tarzan's village was that way and switched direction. After another hour of hiking, he came across a deserted cave.

  He eased Keeley atop a boulder, and though he hated to do it, released her. When she stared at his lips and licked her own, he forced himself to move away from her.

  As roughly as possible, he tied the still-unconscious Tarzan to a rocky wall. "I need to secure the perimeter."

  "You'll be careful."

  "I always am." Except with you. And that had to change. Before it was too late.

  Torin worked like a madman, turning branches into spears, setting vines as trip wires, digging pits and hiding them with foliage. At some point, every bit of heat was sucked out of the air, leaving a thin layer of ice. The end of his nose frosted over, and his lungs burned. He finished up and washed his gloves in a nearby river. The water iced, too, and he cursed.

  He raced back to the cave before he was cryogenically frozen. First thing he noticed when he stepped inside: Tarzan was still unconscious. Second: Keeley had created a curtain from twigs and leaves and hung it from the roof of the cave, creating two compartments. Tarzan's side, and hers. A warm fire crackled on hers...close to where she leaned against the rocky wall, her knees raised and spread.

  She was naked--ready for him.

  "I wanted to welcome you back properly," she said with a slow, almost shy grin. Light and shadows twined over her, as if she'd come to life from a painting. "Also wanted to tempt you...have I?"

  Torin stopped breathing. Walk away. No, run away. But already he could scent her...all that cinnamon now laced with vanilla...and already he was too close to her, couldn't even remember closing the distance. But he had, and suddenly, she was within reach and he was dropping to his knees.

  "We'll be careful this time" she said. "All I need is a chance to prove there's a way."

  "Yes. A chance." He trembled as he gripped her knees--electric, even with the gloves--and forced her to part farther...

  Never seen anything more beautiful. He brushed a fingertip through the moist heat she offered. Want this all to myself. Want her.

  He must have spoken the word
s aloud, because she moaned, arched her back, and said, "I'm yours."

  "I'll take care of what's mine." Will maintain absolute control.

  He wasn't sure what miracle had convinced her to do this, to make her so impatient to have him despite everything he'd done to her, but he would be forever grateful. Or eternally sorry.

  Time would tell.

  But he wouldn't be leaving. Wouldn't be stopping early. Not again.

  He rolled her nipples between his fingers, then pinched them gently, wishing he could suck one, then the other. He resisted the urge--must resist--and returned his attention to her core. Can't stay away. He parted her, found the spot that would make her beg, and pressed.

  "Torin," she cried. "Yes!"

  He pressed harder. He'd never gone this far with a woman, but with Keeley, he wanted to go further.

  "Inside me," she beseeched.

  He slid a finger in nice and deep and marveled. "You're so wet for me."

  "Getting wetter," she rasped.

  In. Out. He worked her, savoring every sensation. The tightness of her. The slick glide. Knew it would feel good. But this? Exquisite.

  At first, he moved slowly, always savoring. But soon, that wasn't enough for either of them and he picked up speed. Her tightness never eased up, only intensified, her inner walls clenching on him, trying to hold him inside. His erection throbbed in time with his motions, demanding the same kind of attention. He bit the side of his tongue, tasted blood--and inserted a second finger.

  A gasp of delight escaped her.

  The harder he worked her, the more she seemed to like it. Never been so pleased. She even raised her hips to meet his thrusts, and it was the sweetest agony. The clenching intensified. In and out. In and out. He quickened his pace. Thrusting and thrusting, faster and faster, using more and more force with every upward glide until she could only rock back and forth.

  "My queen likes this." He was awed, humbled.

  "Yes! Oh, yes," she moaned, squeezing her breasts. "But I want harder. Faster."

  "Don't want to hurt you."

  "Harder!"

  So commanding. Unable to deny her, he gave her harder. The sounds she made after that... Purrs straight from the back of her throat, as if she couldn't quite believe this was happening. More gasps. Crude noises that electrified the air.

  "Going to give you even more. Take it...I know you can." He fed her a third finger, and that's all it took. She climaxed instantly, crying his name, drawing a moan from him. He continued thrusting his fingers inside her as she quivered, until she could stand it no more and slumped to the floor, spent.

  Driven past all sense, he tore at the waist of his pants and used her desire to lubricate his shaft. He pumped up and down with a violence that shouldn't have surprised him. She made to sit up--to do what to him, he didn't know. Couldn't dare risk finding out. He would have let her do it, whatever it was, no matter how dangerous. He pushed her down and rose above her, more and more mindless with every second that passed. He braced a hand at her temple, the other one stroking...stroking.

  "One day, I want you in my mouth," she said, and ran her bottom lip through her teeth. "I want to take you all the way to the back of my throat and swallow you. You remember how I like to swallow, right?"

  What she described...he could never give it to her, but oh, he could imagine it. Those red lips around him, riding him. Hot, wet suction. An intense burn began at the base of his length. He tightened his grip.

  Yes...yes...about to shatter. The burn rose all the way to the tip, and he roared so loud the sound echoed off the wall. His seed jetted onto her belly. The pleasure...something so sublime it might just--

  On her belly.

  The words struck him. As did realization. As did horror. He reared back. It wasn't skin-to-skin contact, but it was contact. Possibly even more dangerous.

  He returned to her and hurriedly tried to clean her up before he pushed to shaky legs, adjusted his clothing. Any vestiges of pleasure vanished.

  "Torin?" she said, unsure. How perfect she looked. Hair mussed, skin flushed with satisfaction. Any other man would have gathered her close and held her for hours, simply basking in all that delicious femininity.

  But while he'd satisfied her in a way he'd never satisfied another, and she'd liked it, maybe even loved it, he might have infected her. Again.

  "When I get back," he croaked, "you will be dressed. You will stay on one side of the cave, and I will stay on the other. We won't talk to each other. We won't even look at each other. If you get sick, we'll deal with it. Until then..." He strode from the cave.

  *

  KEELEY WASN'T SURE...couldn't process...too much.

  The pleasure had been--was!--overwhelming. An hour later, she had yet to calm. Might not ever calm. And Torin, her sweet Torin turned snarling beast, had yet to return.

  Avoiding me?

  Where was he?

  And where had he learned that? Using only his fingers, he'd gotten her off and then some, sating her utterly.

  Now he expects me to avoid looking at him? Avoid talking to him? Ripping the moon from the sky would have been easier. She craved him more than ever.

  She should have been able to logically decide how to proceed. How to deal with her growing feelings for a man who would leave her the moment he learned of her bond with him--a bond that had grown stronger with his every decadent touch. Instead, she waffled.

  I have to tell him.

  I don't want to tell him.

  Omission is as bad as a lie.

  Omission is a kindness.

  For the rest of his life, she would be invested in him. In his future. Unless he committed a betrayal so fierce the bond withered, like Hades had done, she would want what was best for him, even at the cost of her own life. Her emotions would always respond to his, his welfare far more important than her own.

  She laughed without humor. He will never be so invested in me. He feared the effects of his demon far too much.

  She had to find the Morning Star. And fast.

  In the meantime, she would have to be proactive. She would do everything in her power to change Torin's mind about the bond. She would win his heart. Then she would tell him.

  Flawless plan--if she didn't dig too far below its surface. But if anyone could succeed, it was her. She was a fighter. And that's what fighters did. They engaged in battles, and they won. She would make him want her--all of her--with the same intensity she wanted him. Easy.

  Maybe easy.

  Okay, probably hard. But she was up for the challenge! The moment Torin got rid of the primitive, she would strike.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ONE DAY PASSED.

  Two.

  Three.

  Four. For the most part, Tarzan healed from his physical injuries, which wasn't a surprise. But what was? The guy never sickened. Didn't so much as sniffle. Didn't gag even once.

  Torin reeled with the intoxicating knowledge that Keeley wasn't a carrier of the demon's illness. Of any of his illnesses.

  More than that, Torin's seed hadn't sickened her.

  He wasn't sure what to think about that. Did he dare bask in excitement? Or should he hold on to his fear?

  Could he touch her again? Skin-to-skin, without consequences?

  No need to ponder: it was still too risky. But he couldn't stop thinking about what he'd done to her, the erotic interlude on constant replay. He'd had his fingers inside her. And she'd liked it. Liked was probably too mild a word. She would have killed him if he'd removed a single digit before she was good and ready.

  He grinned at the thought. Ever since her orgasm, twin suns had continued to shine outside the cave. It had blown his mind when he'd first spotted them. A beautiful bouquet of red, pink and purple wildflowers had even bloomed for a solid mile.

  Her astounding reaction would hold no sway with his decision to remain hands-off. I'm made of tougher stuff.

  But that tougher stuff blackened his mood as he prepared Keeley's breakfa
st. The usual twigs, leaves and mushrooms. She sat cross-legged on a pallet of soft foliage, her bright red hair hanging down her back in glossy waves. A normal man could have fisted the strands and angled her head however he wished, claiming a hard, bruising kiss.

  Torin placed the food beside her with more force than he'd intended. She ignored it, just as she'd ignored everything else. Including him. She'd taken his words to heart, refusing to look at him or even speak to him.

  Miss her, even though she's right here.

  He'd hoped to make things easier for them both. "Eat. When you're finished," he said, worried about her lack of nourishment and rest, "we'll kill Tarzan and move on." A change of scenery might improve her mood.

  "What? Really? I'm finished!" She practically leaped to her feet. A second later, Tarzan vanished. "I flashed him into his village--without his skin."

  That easily. Sometimes Torin forgot just how powerful she was.

  "Now we can go." She blazed from the cave, leaving the breakfast behind.

  Why was she in such a big hurry? Frowning, he dumped the morsels into a clean rag. He took off after her, and because his strides were longer, faster, he soon passed her, shoving the bundle into her hand.

  "Eat," he repeated. "For real."

  "Sure, sure." As they trekked through the forest, she dropped the pieces on the ground.

  "Stop that."

  "Stop what?"

  "You know what."

  She folded the rag, saying, "Do I?"

  Something he'd learned. When she hoped to avoid a lie but didn't want to tell the truth, she responded with questions. "Why do you never eat or sleep?" he asked.

  She glared at him as if he'd just accused her of murdering kittens. "Do you really think I or anyone else could go without food or rest?"

  "You could. You have. Why?"

  She opened her mouth--

  "Don't answer me with a question."

  Her eyes narrowed. "Fine. I don't eat because the food could be poisoned. I don't sleep because I don't want to deal with nightmares and vulnerabilities. But who cares about any of that? Let's talk about what happened between us while I was naked."

  The stifling heat began to get to him--in more ways than one--and he pulled at the collar of his shirt. "I would never poison you."

  "Fun times were had by us both," she continued. "I'm willing to schedule a repeat, despite your abysmal finish." The statement emerged hesitantly, dripping with the vulnerabilities she claimed to despise.