by Sylvia Day
Lyssa stared into the dark blue eyes of her lover and hated the anxiety that vibrated deep within her, the feeling of dread and doom that was making her nauseous. Her instinctual response to hearing that a Guardian was nearby was to run far away, not hunt them down and find out what they wanted.
She watched Aidan move to the table by the open sliding glass door. He used his pocket knife to slice up one of the dozen limes he’d picked up yesterday, then he cradled a handful of slices in his palms and carried them back to the nightstand.
Enamored with the sheer beauty of his body, Lyssa was riveted by the view of Aidan approaching in a delicious display of golden rippling abs and outstretched hands dripping lime juice. Well over six feet of pure, unadulterated, luscious male. The man of her dreams. Literally. A man who’d left everything behind to be with her. A man who was determined to save her from his own people who wanted her dead, regardless of any risk to himself. She loved him so much it burned like fire in her chest, making it hard to breath.
“Do you ever consider that protecting me, working for McDougal, and hunting the artifacts are altogether too much for you to handle by yourself?” She watched him sit on the edge of the mattress and reached out to rest her hand atop his shoulder. The muscles bunched as he popped the cap off the bottle and stuffed the opening with a lime slice. The scent of his skin, something exotic and spicy, hit her at the same moment as the smell of tangy citrus. “If there is one Guardian here, there could be more.”
He twisted and met her gaze head on. His irises were an intense deep blue, resembling a rich sapphire. Unique, just as the rest of him was. Sculpted jaw and winged brows, raven-black hair, and a body built for a woman’s pleasure. He was hard, chiseled, and dangerously gorgeous. And he was hers. She refused to lose him.
“I know.” He passed the bottle to her, then reached for his own.
The powerful muscles in his arms flexed with the movement, inciting shivers of sensual awareness in her. They’d spent all day in bed, indulging in one another, yet she wanted him still. She would always hunger for him and the physical connection that made their love a tangible thing.
“Connor would only have come if it were a matter of life or death,” he said, sounding weary. “Unlike me, he was happy in the Twilight. To him this plane is probably hell.”
“Great,” she muttered. “Sounds promising.”
Aidan had refuted the ancient prophecy of his people that said she was the Key destined to destroy his world and the human world. He had left his home in the Twilight because of his love for her. No other Guardian would have such a potent impetus.
“Don’t give up hope yet.” He joined her against the headboard, stretching out his long legs bared by loose khaki shorts. Dusk was rapidly turning into night, but neither of them made any effort to turn on a lamp. The bathroom door was cracked and the light spilling from there was enough for both of them.
Tipping the bottle up, Aidan drank in large gulps and then settled back with the beer in his lap. “Maybe there is a way to track the Guardians through dreams now that they’re here. Maybe he brought good news.”
“I hate feeling so helpless.” Lyssa’s fingers picked restlessly at the bottle label, her eyes drifting to the sword and scabbard lying atop a nearby chair. “I can’t read your language, so I can’t help you with deciphering the journals you stole.”
“Borrowed indefinitely,” he corrected, laughing.
She snorted. “I have no combat skills, so I can’t help you fight. I don’t have centuries of memories like you do, so I can’t help you find the artifacts.”
He reached out and stilled her restless fingers with an icy, wet hand. “That doesn’t mean you’re not helping. Your ‘very important job’ is to keep me recharged. That’s why I brought you along this time.”
“I wanted to come. I hate it when you’re gone for days or weeks at a time. I miss you too much.”
Aidan looked at her with a soft smile. “I need you with me. It’s not merely a matter of convenience. Every time you take a breath, you give me reason to live. Every time you smile, you give me hope. Every time you touch me, you make my dreams come true. You keep me going, Hot Stuff.”
“Aidan…” Her eyes stung. He could say the corniest shit, but it never sounded corny coming from him. He put one hundred percent of his effort into everything he did—even loving her.
“I was dying before I met you.”
She knew he had been. Not physically, but emotionally. Weary of the stalemate in the war against the Nightmares and disheartened by his lack of connection to anyone, Aidan had been merely surviving. Not living. He’d shared with her how lonely he had been, but he didn’t have to say it aloud. She had seen the emptiness in his eyes.
“I love you.” She leaned over and pressed her lips to his.
Despite their differences—which were as vast as being from two separate species—they were very much alike. Tormented by lack of dreams, she’d been too exhausted for any kind of life beyond work. Aidan’s love gave her optimism for the future.
“You damn well better,” he teased, cupping the back of her head and keeping her close when she would have pulled back. He licked her lips and then nipped the lower one with his teeth. She moaned in invitation.
“I want to oblige you,” he whispered, “but we’re going to have to leave soon.”
Lyssa nodded and caught her pendant in her fist. Odd how a stone made of Nightmare ash melted into a glasslike material from the decimated Guardian homeworld could change her life. But it radiated a unique energy—a combination of Guardian and Nightmare that kept both factions at bay in her dreams, enabling her to sleep normally. “I tossed my stuff in the duffel when I got out of the shower earlier.”
“Perfect.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “We should wait until it is completely dark to check out. Then I’m going to ransack that motel room and hopefully figure out what our Guardian friend is up to. We can take off from there and head down to Ensenada, where we’ll pick up the relic for McDougal and meet with the shaman there.”
“Got it. I’m the getaway driver.”
“Yep, lead foot.” Aidan took another long pull of his beer. “At least this time I was able to guarantee us two weeks’ worth of search time. I’m not leaving Mexico without that taza.”
Earlier in the month he had been only hours away from an auction bid on an obscure dream doll when his employer, Sean McDougal, called him back to California for his opinion on a possible sword purchase. Aidan had been furious but didn’t have any choice in the matter.
McDougal was an eccentric and exceptionally wealthy collector of antiquities, and Aidan’s first-hand knowledge of history and his expert grasp of every language on Earth had made him perfect for the job of McDougal’s acquisitions team leader. The position provided him with the means to travel the world at will, all expenses paid, truly the only way they could afford to have Aidan searching for the artifacts mentioned in the Elders’ journals. Keeping his job was a necessity.
“I don’t understand why the Elders waited until now to send Guardians after the artifacts,” Lyssa said, thinking aloud. “Why not before you came here?”
“Because before the Key—you—were found, they were safer here. The Twilight is small. Over centuries, the items would have been discovered there. Here, they were far from the reach of the curious.”
Heaving out her breath, Lyssa tossed back the sheets and slid off the bed. Aidan’s low whistle of appreciation as she stood made her smile. She grabbed a spaghetti-strapped sundress and slipped it over her head, then grabbed her beer and went out to the balcony to admire the last of the coastal sunset. A moment later, his arms bracketed her, one hand clutching the railing, the other holding his beer. His lips nuzzled the top of her shoulder and the embrace of his much larger body was a welcome comfort.
The scents of a barbeque drifted up from somewhere below. Nearby, on the small plastic table in the corner of the balcony, an open bottle of suntan oil released the faint smel
l of coconut. For Lyssa, the sights and smells inundating her were expected for a busy tourist resort town in Baja California. She worried about Aidan, though, knowing that centuries of living in a bubble—technically a conduit between two planes of existence, as he had explained—had made such a barrage of sensual input intense and disturbing.
“Do you miss it?” she asked softly. “The Twilight?”
She felt his smile curve against her skin. “Not in the way you might think.”
Lyssa turned in his arms and faced him, finding joy in the mischievous gleam in his blue eyes. “Oh?”
“I miss the absolute quiet sometimes and the familiarity of my house, but only because I want to take you there. I want to be somewhere private with you, somewhere safe. Where time isn’t a concern and I can turn off every noise. I want to hear nothing but you…the sounds you make when I’m inside you.”
“That would be wonderful,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around his lean waist, wrapping her love around his.
“It’s my dream,” he murmured, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Lucky for us, we know dreams come true.”
Stacey stirred first. Connor fought the urge to hold her and keep her close. She was wiggling that lush ass against his loins and his cock responded admirably, especially considering he still felt less than his best. Traveling between planes of existence sure took a lot out of a guy.
“My God,” she breathed. “How can you still have an erection after that?”
He buried a chuckle in the fragrant mass of black glossy curls and tightened his embrace. Just as he’d expected, she was soft and warm, a much appreciated refuge and delight in a world gone to shit. Never one to hide from trouble, he was nevertheless tempted to hide with Stacey. Just hole up in a bedroom somewhere and pretend that none of the last few weeks had ever happened. “You’re rubbing and grinding your hot little body all over me. I would be worried if I weren’t hard.”
“You’re insane. I’m wiped out.”
“Are you?” he purred, sliding one hand between her spread legs. He arched his hips upwards, pushing his cock deeper into her while cupping a full breast with his free hand. With reverent fingertips he circled her clit, careful to move gently after her earlier frantic rubbing. “I’ll do all the work, don’t worry.”
“I-I’m not…Oh! I can’t…”
“Sure you can, darlin’.” Connor licked around the shell of her ear, then dipped his tongue inside. She shivered and creamed around his cock. It felt delicious and he nudged his hips upward in gentle pushes, massaging inside her delectably tight cunt with the broad head of his cock. Pleasuring her with his body and all of his skill. Feeling the chill created by the Nightmares and his homesickness melt from the heat of her response.
She began to whimper and writhe, straining in his arms, voicing breathless pleas, “…yes…oh god…deeper…”
He caught her nipple in his fingers and pinched it, tugged it. Her inner muscles rippled along his length making him groan.
“That’s it,” he praised, completely infatuated by her response. She was totally focused on him, as he was on her, which was perfect. She was perfect.
Stacey fell apart in his embrace with a thready cry that almost set him off. He clenched his jaw and held back, gentling her with kisses and murmurs of appreciation.
“Jesus,” she gasped, her head falling to the side to press her cheek to his. “Three orgasms in an hour. Are you trying to kill me?”
“Are you complaining? I can try harder.”
She smacked his hand when he tweaked her nipple and he laughed.
“I like your laugh,” she said shyly.
“I like you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Hmm…I know you love your son and you’re a good friend to Lyssa. I know you’re tough and you raised a child alone without any support, something you resent and rightfully so. You’re uninhibited and comfortable in your skin. You’ve got a wicked sense of humor and you don’t trust men to want you for more than sex.”
“Sometimes that’s convenient.” She giggled, and the girlish sound combined with her lush woman’s body made him even harder. “Jesus. You might want to get that thing checked.”
“I’ve only had one orgasm to your three,” he pointed out. “And I want you for more than sex.”
She stiffened.
“I have no friends here, Stacey. Besides Aidan.”
“Listen…” She struggled up to a seated position and lifted off of him.
Sighing inwardly with disappointment, Connor rose, too, and reached down to tug off the annoying condom. Such precautions weren’t necessary in the Twilight where diseases did not exist and reproduction had to be planned, but he couldn’t tell her that. She wouldn’t believe him.
“Friends-with-benefits is a great arrangement for a lot of people. But not for me.”
He took a moment to step into the nearby downstairs guest bathroom and disposed of the condom. “Okay…” He lifted the toilet seat and began pissing with the door open, waiting for her to finish voicing her objection.
Stacey leaned against the jamb and watched him warily. Relieving himself in plain sight was base and a bit crude, but also undeniably intimate, which was what he wanted. Intimacy. Connection. He’d take it anyway he could get it. It also appeared to fascinate her enough to forget that she was naked from the waist down, a view he appreciated immensely.
“I can’t decide if you’re completely rude and arrogant,” she murmured, almost to herself, “which I hate. Or if you’re simply open and confident, which I like.”
“You like me.”
She snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know you near as well as you think you know me. The only thing really working in your favor is that you’re best friends with Aidan, who is overall a nice guy.”
Connor stuck out his lower lip in a mock pout. “The three orgasms don’t help?”
The corner of her mouth twitched and he was suddenly determined to make her laugh out loud. She was too serious, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that the exterior shell protected a vulnerable middle. A middle that very few people were ever privileged enough to see.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she said.
He flushed the toilet and then moved to the sink to wash up. He studied Stacey’s reflection in the mirror. Their eyes met and held, “Why not?”
“Because our best friends are getting married. You and I are going to run into each other occasionally and this,” she waved a hand between them, “is always going to be there. That we know sexual things about each other. That I’ve seen you take a leak.”
Pulling the towel off the rack, Connor dried his hands and then leaned back into the counter. “You don’t remain friends with the people you sleep with?”
She bit her swollen lower lip. He wasn’t a kissing man usually, but the desire to feel that mouth against his had been undeniable and he’d indulged. Stacey had full, plush lips. Connor wanted to feel them everywhere. All over his body.
At the thought, his cock, which was already at half-mast from the clenching of Stacey’s recent orgasm, leaped to attention.
“Okay.” She pointed an accusing finger at his waving erection. “That thing is a sexual lunatic.”
Connor laughed and then fell silent when she joined him. The sound wasn’t what he had expected. Instead of a girlish trill, it was low and throaty, almost rusty sounding, rarely used. Her green eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed.
“Beautiful,” he said.
She looked aside, then she turned away, moving back into the dining room to collect her discarded clothes. She held them to her torso in an obviously defensive posture and he took up her abandoned position of leaning against the jamb.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he murmured, watching her intently.
Shrugging, she said, “I have bad taste in men.”
He didn’t say anything to that, just considered her carefully.
�
�I’m going to take a shower.” She moved to walk past him.
He reached out and caught her arm, stopping her. “Stacey.”
Her gaze rested first on where his hand wrapped around her upper arm, then it lifted to meet his. Her brows rose.
“Do you like Chinese food?”
She blinked and then gifted him with a soft smile, recognizing the olive branch. “Moo shu pork. And cream cheese wontons.”
“Got it.”
There was a slight hesitation, then she nodded and moved to the stairs.
Connor knew what would happen next. She would come down washed and dressed, an outward show of her inward decision to wipe the slate clean. She would want to start over and pretend as if they’d just met and never fucked. He knew because it was how he handled similar situations in the Twilight. Early morning training had worked for centuries as an excuse not to spend the night. He wished Stacey had given them more time to be lovers, but he respected her decision and even thought she might be right. Better to end this as a quick, unplanned rut than to risk a messy situation.
By nature the Elite avoided emotional attachments. Very few of the Warriors partnered and those who did rarely stayed that way. Detachment was required to succeed and for those Guardians who were unfortunate enough to fall in love with an Elite, it was a lonely and unequal romance. The Elite were incapable of giving as much love as they received. In addition, for Connor it was simply bred into him to keep his focus on his mission.
“The Bruces live and die by the sword.” He repeated the familiar refrain aloud. There was no other way.
That was why he was especially suited to protecting sensual Dreamers. It was a symbiotic relationship. He could don a fantasy and connect to another individual, fulfilling their dream while satisfying his own need for affection. A few hours of being the love of someone’s life was enough to ease the chill of a house and bed he shared with no one else.
Blowing out his breath, Connor straightened and moved into the kitchen where he found the drawer that Lyssa and Aidan used to hold their take-out menus. They ate at Peony’s Chinese Restaurant so often they had an account there, a bit of information Connor knew because he’d visited with Aidan in the dream state.
