Cold Attraction

by Zoe Ashwood

  Taron smiled sadly. “You would have impressed him in that dress. He would have liked you.”

  Adriana stepped over to him and touched his cheek. “I’m sorry. I know you haven’t been given time to mourn him yet.”

  He hung his head. “I’ll mourn him when this is done.” When the regent is dead. He didn’t want to voice the thought, but there was no way this would end any other way. He cleared his throat and added, “I have a different question to ask you.”

  She lifted her dark eyebrows, her brown gaze focused on him. Whenever she stared at him like this, he knew he had her full attention. His human didn’t do anything by halves.

  “Is it possible that you’re pregnant with our child?” he said. His voice turned rough, so the words were harsher than he’d planned, but he didn’t see a point in waiting.

  Adriana blinked. Had she really not thought about this?

  But then she slowly shook her head. “Not yet,” she whispered. “At least I’m pretty sure. I’ve got protection. Bringing a baby into this mess wouldn’t be responsible, don’t you think?”

  He agreed—and yet… “Will you want to? Eventually?”

  She clasped his face in her warm palms, which always seemed to foretell something significant she had to say. “Yes. I’m not sure if it’ll even work, but I would love to try.”

  Taron kissed her, failing to form the words that would express what he was feeling. He’d never been good with words. So he would show her with his body instead, worship her until she gasped his name.

  But Adriana pulled away. “We can’t.” When he tried to kiss her again, she added, “Taron. I need to shower and change.”

  He let her go, pressing himself back against the door. “I’ll wait here.”

  There was no chance he was letting her out of his sight before it was absolutely necessary. Tonight, they would challenge the regent and try to save the queen. Tonight, everything would change.

  How, he wasn’t sure—their plan was solid, but there were so many variables to it, so many points where it could go massively, horribly wrong. It spoke to their desperation that they’d decided to go ahead with it; Lhett was likely pulling his hair out from worry.

  Taron chose not to think about it. They could do nothing but follow the steps, one after the other, and hope everything fell into place.

  He waited for Adriana to get ready. He didn’t need to change—he and his brothers would soon be going out into the city, first to the barracks to see which soldiers would still follow their former general into battle. It was time for the nation to pick sides—even though the resulting fight might become a civil war.

  But he had to hope, he had to believe that his people would rally behind their rightful leader, even if she was too young to legally take the throne.

  They couldn’t have done this before—not without having a plan to save Zeema from torture. A single whisper of a planned uprising in the regent’s ear, brought by one of his many paid spies around the city, would have meant possible death for the queen. But with the human engineer’s solution, they had a fighting chance.

  But first, he’d need to play his role in the little charade Mika had thought of: something to lend credibility to the planned events.

  The bathroom door opened, curls of steam escaping into the room. Taron straightened and stretched; he hadn’t realized how much time had passed. A glance at his tablet told him Adriana had less than an hour to present herself in the palace’s reception hall.

  She stepped out of the bathroom, and Taron could only stare. The soft knit dress hugged her curves but covered her arms. It showed a hint of her cleavage, tempting Taron to hook his finger in her collar and tug it lower.

  “Um, I forgot my earrings,” she announced. “But I need another minute.”

  She grabbed something silvery off her nightstand—he’d never seen her wear any ornaments in her ears before, so he was curious to see what they looked like—and she turned back toward the bathroom.

  Taron nearly swallowed his tongue.

  The back of the dress was missing. It simply wasn’t there—and neither was anything else. It exposed most of Adriana’s spine, making it perfectly clear she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

  Taron growled, then closed in on her. Now he’d have to spend the entire evening not only worrying about her but painfully hard and aching.

  Adriana seemed oblivious to him—she stood in front of the bathroom mirror with her mouth full of pins and was busy knotting her hair into some elaborate formation that would make a sailor proud. Two brown sticks were poking out of it. Taron wasn’t sure whether they counted as weapons or decoration.

  “I’m hiding the tube in here,” she explained.

  Taron looked more closely and saw she was entirely serious—only the cap of the tube was visible in the twist of hair, and with several deft loops, she covered even that. The tube wasn’t that heavy, but if her hair unraveled…

  Adriana closed her eyes and sprayed her head with some sort of mist. Taron coughed, waving his hand to dissipate it.

  “Sorry,” she murmured. “It’ll help hold it in.”

  Taron touched her exposed neck lightly with his fingertips. She stilled, meeting his gaze in the mirror, and he was transported back into that dressing room—was it really only a month ago? He traced his fingers down her spine and listened for any change in her breathing. Ah, there it is. The telltale hitch, a tiny gasp that spoke louder than if she’d shouted out loud.

  Goose bumps formed on her smooth skin, and Taron leaned in to press a soft, barely there kiss to her shoulder.

  Still holding his gaze, she took out a stick of red pigment and painted her lips.

  Hmm. If she was still capable of fine motor skills, he was doing something wrong.

  With his other hand, he reached lower, where the hem of her dress touched the backs of her knees. Ever so slowly, he lifted the fabric, keeping contact with the warm skin of her thigh.

  She was breathing faster now, but she didn’t tell him to stop. No, her gaze now held a hint of challenge, and she put one silver stud in her earlobe.

  Taron grinned at her over her shoulder, then licked her neck, simultaneously dragging his palm to the inside of her thigh, higher and higher…

  He cursed violently, his cock throbbing.

  Adriana wasn’t wearing underwear.

  Her knowing gaze, the sensual twist of her red-painted lips—it was too much.

  “Is your hair done?” he growled, running rough fingers through the wetness between her legs.

  She was ready for him, and a whimper escaped her when he found her slick clit.

  “Yes.” She turned around in his arms. “Don’t you dare ruin it. Or my makeup. I spent too long trying to get it perfect for tonight.”

  “You’re already perfect.” The words flew from his mouth, and Taron knew they were the truest he’d ever spoken. At her startled gaze, he took her chin, but instead of fusing his lips to hers, which was what he wanted to do, he tipped her head to the side and kissed her neck. She’d covered the purple kiss-bruises somehow, so he took care not to smudge her paint. Nibbling his way down to her shoulder, then back again to her ear, he whispered, “I don’t need to ruin your hair to fuck you.”

  Her gasp hit him straight in the gut, so scandalized but so eager. “Show me,” she murmured.

  Taron didn’t waste any time. Grabbing her waist, he hauled her out the bathroom, to her bed, where he released her with a simple order, “Get on your hands and knees.”

  Adriana’s eyes darkened, her red mouth half open with desire. She obeyed, climbing onto the bed, clearly thinking he would follow her, but he stopped her advance with a hand to her hip.

  “No. Here, at the edge.”

  Where he could stand behind her, have her poised before him like an offering. He lifted the hem of her dress, slowly, until she was bare, the fabric scrunched up around her waist.

  Adriana glanced over her shoulder. “I want you now, Taron.”

&
nbsp; “Patience,” he murmured, offering her a feral grin, trying to hold back when all he wanted was to bury himself inside her and fuck her until her arms gave out. “I need to make sure…”

  Dipping his fingers inside her core, he had her panting in seconds, stretching her, preparing her, because he couldn’t be gentle tonight. Not when his entire body was screaming to claim, to take, to make her his. Gentle was the furthest thing from his mind, the peace he’d spoken about replaced by a need so powerful, a want so violent, his chest felt like iron bands closed around it. Every time he was near her, he could barely breathe for the intensity of it. Every time she came on his cock, he thanked the skies that he’d found her.

  She hadn’t spoken those fateful words since their return to the capital, and he wanted to wring them from her—so the roaring beast inside him would relent. So he could tell her the same.

  “Please,” she begged, her palms dragging over the sheets in restless, frantic motions. “Please, Taron!”

  Her hips undulated under his touch, and he realized she was close. He knew her body now, knew what she liked, what had her screaming his name. So he reached down and pinched her clit between his fingers, rolling the tiny bud again and again, and she came on his hand, moaning, her arms trembling under her.

  Taron couldn’t wait any longer. Undoing the laces on his pants, he dropped them and his underwear, fisted his cock, and held her hips steady with his other hand. Then he plunged inside her, through the last ripples of her orgasm, into the wet, addictive heat of her. He pulled back and nearly slipped out of her, then thrust forward again, deeper this time.

  Adriana went to her elbows, as if she was no longer capable of supporting her body, but when she looked over her shoulder at him, she growled, “Harder.”

  Taron would have laughed if he had any breath left in his lungs. She was perfect, the ideal match for him. She took his cock like she was made to do it, but always kept him on his guard. Life would never be boring with her.

  “Say it,” he commanded, slamming into her. Her tight heat surrounded him, whipping his desire into a frenzy. He moved above her and leaned over to grab one full breast in his palm. “Say it, and I’ll make you come again.”

  “Taron,” she whimpered, “I…”

  He put his lips to her ear. “I want to hear it.”

  He squeezed her breast, finding her nipple with such ease—he reveled in the fact that he would have years, even decades, to explore everything that brought her pleasure.

  “I love you,” she screamed, her voice echoing from the shining black walls surrounding them. “Taron, I love you.”

  He slid his hand down to her core, found her little knot of nerves, and rubbed two fingers over it in slow, calculated circles. Her body tensed beneath his, and he put on more pressure, but decreased the pace of his thrusts. He was close yet didn’t want to blow before he brought her over once more, just to show her how much he…

  She snuck a hand beneath them, reaching below, and took hold of his balls. Taron’s eyes rolled back, and his hips jerked forward. The sensation wasn’t as strong as with his spine spikes but… “Fuck!” he roared, arching over her, too close to coming.

  Adriana’s breathless laugh caressed his senses. “Don’t you dare slow down,” she ordered and gave his balls a tug.

  And Taron was done. His discipline disappeared, his resolve went down the drain; all that remained was the addictive heat he was buried in, the warm fingers closing on his balls, and Adriana’s voice ringing in his ears.

  “Faster, Taron. Ah, I love you.”

  He could barely control himself for long enough to make sure she found her orgasm, undulating under him. Then he slammed into her one more time and came so hard, he had to catch himself on the bed so he didn’t squash Adriana. The tremors of his pleasure rolled through his body, recalibrating his cells so they would only ever point in her direction. He would always know where she was, always feel her absence when she was away.

  Withdrawing from her, he helped her clean up—he didn’t want to mess up her beautiful dress—then gathered her in his lap.

  “I love you. Will you stay?” he murmured against her ear, nuzzling along the fragrant skin of her neck.

  The words were foreign on his tongue, but there was no doubt in his mind that they were correct. He’d never thought it possible that the peace she gave him just by being near would unite with his lust into this love, and yet…

  She nodded but didn’t say a word, so he lifted his head to look at her.

  Water leaked silently from the corners of her eyes.

  “Ah, little Earthling, don’t be sad.” He kissed away the salty, bitter liquid. “It’s going to be all right.”

  She sniffed and shook her head, then gave him the most brilliant smile. “I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m happy. I didn’t think you’d…” She hiccupped and twisted in his lap until she found a tissue to blow her nose. “I’m just happy.”

  Taron rubbed his hand over his eyes. “So you also do this when you’re not sad? How do I know what’s going on?”

  She patted his arm. “You’ll learn. You’ll have all the time in the world to figure it out.”

  At this, Taron’s thoughts cleared enough to remember the dinner. “I will if everything goes well tonight.” He kissed her despite her warning to stay away from her makeup. “I hate that I won’t be there to protect you.”

  She kissed him back, her warm tongue caressing his, easing some of his worry. Then she hopped off his lap and straightened her dress. “It’ll be over before you know it. And tomorrow, you’ll be free to resume your position on your ship and continue doing what you do best.”

  Taron tied his pants and frowned at her. “Do you think I’d ask you to stay on Rendu for me, then fly away on missions for months at a time?”

  The vulnerable look in Adriana’s eyes expressed that was exactly what she’d thought.

  “And yet you decided to stay?” he added.

  She shrugged. “I figured spending even short periods of time with you would be worth it. I’d be like a sailor’s wife, except you’d be sailing among the stars.” Her grin told him she was trying to be brave, but her hands were tightly clasped in front of her.

  “Adriana,” he murmured. He stepped closer and cupped her cheeks with his palms, turning her face up so she had to look him in the eyes. “I won’t leave you. I’ll find another way to provide for us. For our family, if we’ll ever be blessed enough to have it.”

  “Stop it,” she wailed, “I can’t keep crying. I don’t have time to fix my makeup.”

  He chuckled and let her go. “We’ll talk about this tonight,” he promised. “After you’ve returned to me and the queen is saved.”

  She paled a little at that but nodded. “It’s nearly time to go.”

  Taron kissed her once more, inhaling the scent of her, and caressed her warm, supple body. “You’ll do great. At least now you can be sure your hair will really hold the tube,” he joked.

  He needed her relaxed, or her nervous glances and fidgeting would give away their plan. She wasn’t a soldier or a trained operative, just a very brave, smart woman who’d volunteered to help his people without question. He loved her so much, it physically hurt him to let her out of his sight.

  But his words had had the desired effect.

  She laughed, tentatively poking the knot of hair on the back of her head. “Now we just have to sell our little performance. Are you ready?”

  Taron swatted her ass as she turned to leave the room. “What’s a little pain compared to saving a planet?”

  21

  Adriana

  “Show time,” she whispered and rolled back her shoulders. She knew full well that the dress she was wearing showed off her curves to their best advantage, and she wasn’t above using them to distract the guards into thinking she was just a harmless human.

  Taron had left her in the mess hall; she would see him again, briefly, in just a couple of minutes, but they couldn’t be
seen arriving together or their plan wouldn’t work. She was afraid of going to dinner without him—or without the rest of their friendly Rendian guards—but they all agreed that the regent couldn’t risk attacking any of them while the representatives from the Intergalactic Trade Association were present. He needed the delegates to remain happy and convinced that everything on Rendu was just peachy, despite the fact that he murdered the king.

  Adriana greeted the two soldiers stationed at the entrance to the great reception hall. She didn’t know them; they were likely members of the regent’s private force. Then she spotted Hanne and Mika already waiting there with Ben.

  “Hi,” she greeted them. “You both look gorgeous!” She pitched her voice higher on purpose so the guards would have no trouble listening in to their conversation.

  Her friends returned the exclamations, praising her dress, and they chatted animatedly—or at least she and Mika did, while Hanne tried her best not to look too nervous. Adriana hoped that the Rendians would assume the astrophysicist was just nervous because she would soon be meeting the queen and the regent.

  Other members of the human team arrived, Graham leering unpleasantly at Mika, who flipped him the finger while the guards weren’t watching. Their colleagues, everyone from the broad-shouldered Jean to the tiny Damini, a botanist from India, had put on their Sunday best, resulting in a stunning array of formal wear.

  “But where’s Steven?” Adriana exclaimed loudly, drawing the guard’s attention like they’d planned.

  “Sick as a dog,” Ben replied on cue. “I’ve been to see him, and he won’t be leaving his bathroom anytime soon. I left him a powder to help with the diarrhea and I’ll check on him after dinner.”

  One of the guards snickered quietly as the members of their team who weren’t in on the plan expressed surprise and worry that the bug Adriana had supposedly caught might be contagious. Perfect.

  Now all she needed to do was wait for Taron…

  He came bounding down the narrow corridor a minute later, pushing a passing Rendian out of the way so the man’s load of tall glasses tipped over and shattered on the floor with a loud crash. This wasn’t part of the plan, but Adriana had to cheer Taron’s resourcefulness—the more witnesses they gathered for this event, the better.