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Cold Attraction

Page 4

by Zoe Ashwood

As he pulled her forward, she added that cryptic remark to the list of things she had to investigate. But a crowded market was hardly a place for a personal interrogation of the man whose secrets she wanted to learn.

  They stepped into a large circular hall, its domed ceiling made of some sort of glass that allowed in light but not the cold. Voices of hundreds of aliens echoed through the space, bargains being struck, arguments breaking out over wares from all over the universe. Adriana stopped, frozen in her tracks, and stared.

  Apart from the native Rendians, numerous other races rushed around them, peddling their exotic goods or buying big bales of wool, their statures too varied and colorful for comprehension. An alien with three heads and a tall, lithe body that flowed into a mustard-yellow tail served steaming cups of beverages to a pod of pink blob-like creatures that extended suckers to slurp up their drinks. A man—or at least Adriana assumed he was a man, though it was entirely possible his race didn’t even have sexes, let alone genders—carried a cage of red chickens whose beaks were filled with razor-sharp teeth. A silky-furred fox the size of a wolfhound snuck through the crowd, a chain of sausages dangling from its jaws.

  “Pinch me,” she whispered. Taron chuckled at her side. “This is incredible. This…” She paused, trying to find the right words. “From what you told us, I knew there were other planets with sentient life forms, but this…”

  “This is just a fraction of them all,” he finished for her. “Will you travel to other planets once you’re finished on Rendu?”

  There was something in his expression, a clenching of his jaw, a tightness around his eyes. Adriana slipped an arm around his waist, feeling the strength of his muscles when she gave him a short, hard squeeze.

  “There’s enough to learn on Rendu to last a lifetime.”

  His smile was sad as he replied, “But you only have three months.”

  Her answering grin was a little forced, a little bitter. “Let’s not waste any time then.”

  Taron held her gaze for a moment, then nodded and took her hand, holding her fingers gently in his much larger palm. “Follow me.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  He didn’t slow down but merely threw a smirk over his shoulder. “Just trust me.”

  Adriana held on and put her faith in an alien man, knowing deep down she’d already given away a part of herself that would never be returning to Earth with her.

  7

  Taron

  Vinsha’s shop was one that Princess Zeema had always visited when she had need of good quality, plain clothes that allowed her to mingle with her brother’s subjects. Or she had, before this entire thing blew up. Now these people were her subjects, even though she was currently nothing but a puppet under Gilmar’s control.

  That didn’t change the fact that Vinsha supplied the capital with the best clothes money could buy. And though his family’s accounts had been frozen, Taron still had enough loose coin to be able to buy his warm-blooded protégée an outfit that would allow her to blend in better.

  He knew it was only his presence keeping the men—and probably some women—away from her today; he’d seen their covetous glances. Humans were a novelty on Rendu, and with Adriana’s looks, she would likely receive several courting offers before the day was over. The thought had his blood boiling, and he tugged her closer, putting his arm around her to keep her safe. Having her near eased his mind, calmed the incessant buzz of the crowd. He couldn’t pinpoint the sensation, but her presence soothed an itch he’d never known existed.

  It helped that she didn’t seem to mind, sticking close to him and even leaning on him whenever the crowd became too dense and her short stature put her at a disadvantage compared to his taller race.

  They reached Vinsha’s shop without incident, but Taron was glad to have the door close behind them. They plunged into silence only broken by the gentle music piping through hidden speakers, which added a layer of calm to the shopping experience.

  The owner herself approached them, raising her eyebrows a fraction at the sight of Adriana but otherwise keeping a pleasant smile on her face. A true merchant, Vinsha knew not to insult a client by gawking.

  “If it isn’t my favorite prince,” she crooned.

  Taron closed his eyes for a moment. He felt Adriana’s curious stare, but this wasn’t the time or the place. “Hello, Vinsha,” he said.

  The older woman pursed her lips, reading his reluctance to indulge in small talk. “Hmm. What can I help you with today?”

  She looked at Adriana then, and the human simply shrugged, her gaze taking in the racks of clothing.

  “We need a full outfit for Dr. Ribeiro,” he said. “Blending in is, ah, crucial for her assignment, and…” He trailed off, pointing helplessly at Adriana’s green coat and red hat.

  “Hey,” she said, her hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know this is the finest Arctic gear Earth has to offer.”

  “Mm,” Vinsha agreed, “but perhaps not the most inconspicuous.” She took Adriana’s hand, and if her touch was a little too long—she was likely as amazed at Adriana’s warmth as Taron had been—she didn’t let the surprise show on her face.

  “True,” Adriana laughed.

  Taron realized with some relief that she wasn’t affronted.

  Vinsha turned on her heel and strode between the shelves like a general surveying her armies. “You’ll be more susceptible to cold, yes? Let’s look at some of these shirts, they’re lined with mantora fur…”

  Taron kept quiet and helped the women by carrying the increasingly large pile of clothes Vinsha insisted Adriana should wear. They spoke the same language despite having been born on planets light-years apart.

  When they completed a circuit of the shop, Vinsha showed Adriana to a changing area in the back. Just as she was urging her to shout if any of the garments proved to be the wrong size, the bell above the shop’s door chimed quietly, announcing the arrival of another customer.

  “Will you be all right here?” Vinsha asked.

  Adriana waved her off with assurances that Taron would help if needed.

  As soon as the shopkeeper left, Adriana looked him in the eyes. “Sorry for forcing you to carry my stuff around. I know this isn’t what you signed up for. If you want, you can go do something else. I’ll be fine on my own.”

  “I’m your guard,” he said. “I’m not supposed to leave your side.”

  “I could have sworn you said ‘guide,’ not ‘guard’ this morning,” she replied with a cheeky smile that had him wishing he could kiss her to teach her not to make fun of him.

  Instead, he lifted an eyebrow, settling against the wall opposite the stall. “I’m at your service, Dr. Ribeiro,” he murmured and had the pleasure of seeing her flush prettily before she disappeared behind the curtain.

  That was when the torture began. He hadn’t considered the most obvious part of trying on clothes: she had to take hers off in order to try on the new ones. One garment after the other landed on the curtain rail, and Taron gritted his teeth, readjusting himself in his pants, thankful for their snug fit and the cover of his long jacket.

  Adriana’s mutters from the inside were just quiet enough to be unintelligible, but the soft gasp of delight prompted him to take a step closer to the cabin, an involuntary move that would have ended with him ripping away the curtain if she hadn’t opened it herself.

  “What do you think?”

  She stepped out, twirling, her generous hips wrapped in the finest rica leather. He knew it would be soft, supple enough to sleep in if need be. His fingers itched to touch, and he clasped his hands behind his back instead.

  The sweater was at least a size too big for her, though, the sleeves reaching her fingertips. “Keep the pants, and I’ll bring you a smaller pullover,” he grunted, turning on his heel and stalking back into the shop before he grabbed her and did something really stupid, like strip that leather from her and take her against the wall of Vinsha’s shop.

  He returned to the stal
l, thinking he had himself back under control, although he’d have to schedule some alone time in his bath after the day was over.

  He thrust his hand through the gap between the wall and the curtain, but his sleeve snagged the fabric and pulled it open just enough to allow him a peek inside—lucky coincidence, perhaps, but it was enough to crumble his resistance to dust.

  He caught Adriana’s gaze in the mirror; a beat passed, and then he gave in to the temptation and lowered his gaze, swiping down her body. Transfixed by her beauty, he wouldn’t have been able to move if a comet was bearing down on the city at that moment.

  She was still wearing those sinful leather pants, but the sweater was gone, with only a scrap of fabric covering her lush breasts. It was completely impractical, a sheer textile that wouldn’t warm her at all, but it did spectacular things to her body, showing her dark nipples, already hard. Her brown skin shone golden under the shop’s lights, her narrow waist flaring into hips he wanted to grip as he sank himself inside her hot body.

  He dragged his gaze back to her face, aware he was flushing but too aroused to care. Prepared to apologize for the intrusion, he looked her in the eyes again but saw not an ounce of embarrassment in her gaze. No, this human held her head high and lifted an eyebrow in challenge.

  She was teasing him. A wave of lust washed away the last of his objections. Taron didn’t even glance over his shoulder before he slipped inside the stall, drawing the curtain closed.

  He stepped up behind her, until her soft body molded to his, warming him even through his layer of clothes. Bringing his hands around her, he gently cupped her breasts, and the catch in her breathing hit him like a punch to the gut. She didn’t look away from him, her dark eyes challenging him, a faint smile curving her plump lips while her breathing quickened.

  “Don’t make a sound,” he whispered into her ear, and close as he was, he felt a tremor run through her body, but she nodded, leaning her head against his chest.

  He traced the lines of her body, watching the contrast of his pale skin on hers, loving the silky skin that indented under his fingertips. And the warmth, ah, the warmth of her was addictive. When he’d kissed her before, he’d sensed her body’s reaction to him, the incremental change in temperature that signaled to him just how aroused she was. And now…

  She burned, her skin almost hot to the touch, her breath tickling his neck as she turned her face to him.

  He couldn’t resist; he slipped his palms down her soft belly, circling her navel with one finger, then traced the waistband of those leather pants that would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

  “Look at yourself,” he muttered, and she obeyed, following the trail of his fingers in the mirror.

  He undid the laces in the front, then slipped a hand inside her underwear, and groaned when he touched the soft curls between her legs. And then he touched the core of her, the little button of nerves that had her gasping, slippery from her arousal. He rolled his finger over it, thanking his ancestors that human anatomy didn’t differ from the Rendian in that aspect.

  She moaned, and he put his other hand over her mouth. “Shhh.”

  Even though she nodded, he didn’t let go. This was the most erotic sight he’d ever seen. Flick after slow flick, he worked her, then reached lower to slide a finger inside her wet heat.

  He pressed his face to the top of her head, too close to coming at the thought of sinking his cock into that warmth. When he stilled his finger, she rocked her hips, seeking contact, and he chuckled against her hair.

  She glowered at him but couldn’t speak because of his hand covering her mouth; instead of releasing her, he pushed two fingers inside her again, whispering, “Is this what you want?”

  A shudder racked her small frame, and she leaned more heavily on him, circling her hips with every stroke. Her breaths came faster, and in the mirror, he saw her eyelids flutter shut. “No,” he said, “see how gorgeous you are. Watch as I make you fall apart.”

  But when she opened her eyes, she didn’t look at where his fingers were buried deep inside her, stroking her again and again. She met his gaze instead, and the heat there almost brought him to the edge, his cock so hard against her ass. He rocked his hips, unable to stop himself.

  With another deep, slow slide of his fingers, she shattered in his arms. She threw her arms out, catching herself on the mirror, her palms leaving sweaty marks on the glass, and he muffled the worst of her moans with his palm. He kissed the back of her neck, tasting salt on her skin, then licked her, wishing they were in his rooms where he could pull those pants down her legs and plunge into her from behind.

  He let her go when he was sure she could stand, and leaned back against the wall, fighting to get his breathing under control. After a moment, she lifted her head, meeting his gaze again in the mirror.

  “What the hell was that?” she whispered.

  He shrugged. “I didn’t want to waste any more time.” And you looked so beautiful, I couldn’t resist.

  Turning toward him, she swiped her gaze down his body, noticing his erection.

  “Oh, you poor man.” Her eyes sparkled as she stepped closer to him, pressing her hot palms on his chest, exploring his body through his clothes. “You seem to be suffering.”

  He glanced at the curtain, aware that Vinsha could return at any moment. He didn’t think the shopkeeper would interrupt, but he also didn’t want rumors spreading that Taron ad Naals fucked humans in public.

  But this little human already had his pants open, she was reaching inside before he had a chance to object, and the moment her warm, small fingers closed around his cock, all rational thought fled his brain.

  “Shhh.” There was a definite smirk on her face when he let out a groan, so he kissed her, invaded her mouth, and poured all the lust he had into that kiss, wanting to wipe that smug look off her face. The plan backfired; she sucked on his tongue and pumped his cock.

  His hips moved on instinct, rocking into her hot fist. He didn’t know how much time passed; he never wanted this to end. Adriana’s eager, slick mouth was paradise. He caught her up against him, filled his hands with her ass, so sumptuous in the soft leather.

  She swiped her thumb over his cock head and added a firm twist to every tug. Sorceress. She bewitched him, drove him crazy, made him forget all his plans and doubts…

  “Adriana,” he panted.

  With a thud, he leaned back and clamped his jaw to keep from shouting out loud.

  He came all over her fingers and stomach, shuddering, gasping at the strength of his explosion, grateful for the solid wall at his back that supported his weight. The world disappeared, that sense of calm descending over him, blocking out everything that wasn’t Adriana.

  She moaned at the sight of him, her pupils wide, and Taron knew she was somehow close again, her body temperature spiking at the sight of his orgasm.

  If they didn’t leave now, Vinsha would have to close the shop for the day.

  Then Adriana whispered, “It’s so cold,” and licked her fingers, tasting his come like it was honey. “Oh shit,” she added, licking another finger, “this is incredible.”

  Taron grabbed her discarded thermal shirt and wiped her fingers and stomach. “Stop it.”

  She looked up at him, eyes wide, apprehension flitting over her face. “Am I not supposed to? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…”

  He pushed her against the mirror and kissed her again, a raw, savage kiss that stole their breaths.

  “If you don’t stop, I’ll take you right here. Fuck you until you’re screaming my name, and I don’t want anyone else hearing that.” His voice was unrecognizable, a low rasp he forced through his teeth.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, molding her body to his. “I’m not sure I’d stop you,” she murmured in his ear.

  He laughed quietly, then stepped back. “You’re going to need that sweater, you know. Your shirt is ruined.”

  She motioned at a small pile of clothes
. “Those are the ones I want. I might need more later but I should be able to blend in better with them.” She checked her reflection in the mirror and patted her black hair down, and gasped suddenly. “You gave me a hickey!”

  He cocked his head to the side. “A what?”

  Pointing to a purple bruise on the side of her neck, she said, “A love bite! You bit me. Ohh, Mika and Hanne will have a field day with this.”

  Taron didn’t understand what she meant by that, exactly, but for the most part, he liked seeing his mark on her skin. He felt a twinge of guilt at the sight and ran his fingertips lightly over the bruise. “Does it hurt?”

  She turned in his arms. “No. But it won’t go away for several days, and I’ll have to wear a scarf to hide it. We better find one in the shop.”

  Grinning down at her—she was so short—he replied, “Or you could show it off and tell everyone how great I am.”

  “Very funny,” she grumbled, then pushed him through the curtain. “Now get out, I need to get dressed.”

  Taron laced his pants quickly before turning back to the shop. From the other side, Vinsha gave him an amused look and winked. Well, shit. Their secret moment wasn’t so secret after all. He glowered back at her, and she pressed her hand to her heart, then lifted a finger to point at the ceiling. A promise to keep their privacy, unspoken, perhaps, but no less binding.

  He nodded, accepting her gift. Vinsha might become an ally yet. Ancestors knew he needed them these days.

  Glancing back at the changing stall, he sighed when reality poured back in, forcing him to push away all thoughts of taking Adriana to his rooms—he didn’t even have rooms anymore, just a single room in the same corridor as Adriana and the rest of his crew who were now designated guides to the human delegation. His family’s house had been seized by the regent’s forces, and sealed off, preventing them from accessing the well-stocked armory Lhett had compiled over the years.

  He scrubbed his palm across his face. This was exactly the opposite of the regent’s orders. If she got close to him, he would have a harder time keeping secrets from her, especially one as massive as the fact that the queen was being held hostage by a sociopath.

 

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