Parallel Attraction Page 12
At last, he could no longer hold back, and judging by the way she moaned beneath him, she didn't want him to. He allowed the bond between them to finally roar to life—allowed it to solidify hard within his chest as it took root forever. Alien bound to human. He belonged to Kelsey Wells. For the first time in his adult life, the solemn, lone warrior no longer stood on his own.
Afterward, they stepped silently into his large, claw-foot bathtub, and he drew warm water for them. Sliding in against him, she fell sated and drowsy in his strong arms. Neither seemed to want to speak at first. She nestled back against him, and he took the large sea sponge and began using it along her arms, stroking her with it.
"Jared, I have a question," she asked after a time, startling him.
"Yes, love."
"How is it that you're two people at once?" she asked, and his throat constricted. Did she still wonder about him? It was too late for fear or doubt, he wanted to tell her, but he had said that before they made love. Very carefully, he framed his answer.
"I am Refarian. I am also of the House of D'Aravni. That is my royal line, and I am the last," he explained hoarsely. "The being you saw at the lake—and in this bedroom tonight? That is one self. The man who holds you now is the other. There is a duality, you see."
"So. . . let me get this straight," she said, leaning back against him with what sounded like—could it possibly be?—a happy and satisfied sigh. His heart began to thunder until it seemed to leap into his throat. "You are partly of this royal house, but then you're also a Refarian. Is that right?"
"A Refarian changeling," he clarified, swallowing. "That's how I shape-shift."
"What does it mean to be part of this royal house? Are you your own, unique kind of race?"
"I am two men." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Both at once."
"You're a changeling, and then you're this other . . ." Her voice trailed off, and within her spirit he sensed a constriction: truth realized. "Well, you're their king."
"I am their leader, Kelsey," he whispered, brushing a wet curling tendril back from her cheek. "That is all that matters now. I lead this rebellion and I fight to save my people. And yours."
"But these people here fighting with you," she continued, "every last one of them considers you their king."
"Yes, Kelsey, what you say is the truth," he answered finally, his voice thick. Please don't flee me; please don't fear, his heart begged of her. "Even in exile, I remain their king."
"And it's, like, a unique race—if I understand right? You're not quite Refarian?" she asked, leaning back, close against him. "Or, no, that's not it. It's that you're Refarian, but something else too."
"Refarian and something else," he repeated. "This is correct." Arganate D'Aravni. But he would not try to explain the complexities of his unique and strange genetic heritage tonight.
"So you are both men at once," she repeated, her voice thoughtful. "You have two bodies, not just one, like I do."
He reached for the sponge and slowly worked it across her shoulder. "Yes, sweet human," he said. "You are right again."
He held her closer than an ion's meter, felt her ribs beneath his splayed palm, the measure of her breathing. Did it increase? Did it strangle with terror at loving one of his bloodline? Somehow, if he could only draw her inside of himself, closer, up within his chest or into his blood or even his cells....
And then he waited. One heartbeat lay down upon another, upon another, forming a frantic, uncertain rhythm. Expecting betrayal. Awaiting abandonment. Lahrae had stared at him, mouth agape, unable to conceive that Jared could be two men simultaneously, that one self could peacefully coexist with the other, belly-up, both equally real. And she had feared his fire, the same fire that he felt banking in his loins even now, here in this very tub. The same fire that had not terrified Kelsey when they'd made love for the first time.
Yes, another heartbeat thundered down upon another, upon yet another, until… Kelsey leaned back against him with a sigh—a full, pleased sound of one who felt completely happy and safe—and threaded her smaller fingers together with his strong dark ones.
Jared Bennett knew at last that he loved well. That he loved a woman who did not fear him.
Chapter Nine
Stepping into the bathroom doorway, naked and aroused, Jared stared at Kelsey. Her thick curls cascaded over the porcelain edge of the tub, and even in the candlelit semi-darkness he could see a slow, tempting smile form on her lips. He had enjoyed many bedmates in his time—scores of beautiful Refarian women and even a few Antousian hybrids back in his wilder days—but he was certain of one thing: No woman, not of any species, had ever appeared so worthy of the title queen as did Kelsey Wells at this moment.
He'd intended to check with Scott about a few things, but had been derailed by the sight of her reclining in the tub. Extending one pale, lightly freckled hand, she beckoned him, and soap bubbles dripped from her fingers onto the thick bath mat. Smiling up at him, covered in shimmering foam, she appeared to be one of the legendary lalastra from the myths of his home planet. Like Earth's mermaids, the lalastra lived in the sea and were considered by Refarians to be mystical, erotic creatures, capable of luring unsuspecting men into the very depths of obsession—to their deaths, even, when in the sensuous creatures' thrall.
As if by unseen force, he moved toward the bathtub, feeling his groin tighten with a spasm of desire. "Mlashk lalastra," he breathed huskily.
"What does that mean?" she asked, running her tongue along her bottom lip as he took another step closer. Her gaze dropped low, her eyes widening slightly at his undisguised arousal.
"Mermaid," he explained, staring down at her possessively. "I called you my tempting, seducing mermaid. In Refarian, of course."
She held the sponge close, almost protectively against her chest. "You think I'm tempting?"
He dropped to his knees at the head of the tub, and leaned over her so that his mouth grazed just behind her ear. "Human, you are quite a temptress," he whispered, nibbling at her lobe. "I have discovered this about you already." She shivered at his words, or perhaps at the feeling of his warm breath against the nape of her neck. "I have discovered that you are not nearly so innocent as you seemed upon first notice," he added, pulling her strong human scent into his lungs, drinking her in until he felt dizzy with it. "I was mistaken when I met you in my youth. Even more wildly mistaken in the past week."
"Well, I like to tempt you," she acknowledged in a low voice.
"You tempt very well, fiery one," he groaned with pleasure, pressing his lips against her shoulder, sucking and licking at the wet skin there.
She turned so that her radiant eyes locked with his. "No, Jared," she said. "It's not just temptation. I plan to follow through on my promises."
"Ah, indeed." He cupped both of her full, round breasts in his open palms, stroking his thumbs over her puckered nipples with a relentless motion that caused them to bead even harder beneath his fingertips.
In answer she moaned, a loud, almost indelicate sound, and arched back into his grasp. He reached lower with one of his hands, parting her legs, then pressing fingertips upward, into her. "And, my human," he asked, fingering her slickness, slow and deliberate, "what do you think of this? Good temptation or no?"
Planting both feet against the porcelain rim of the tub, she raised her hips with a stabbing cry of pleasure.
"Perhaps this is not good. Maybe I should stop?" He made a pretense of releasing her, and she reached back over her shoulder, grasping for him with a flailing hand as he leaned low, whispering in her ear. "Tell me, dear Kelsey," he said, feigning seriousness, "shall I cease this action?"
Panting, she managed to grab hold of his hand, crying out, "Jared! What... do you... think!?!"
A deep, rumbling moan of pleasure escaped from his chest. "I think you like being with this Refarian," he answered in a gruff voice, laving her earlobe with the tip of his tongue. "I think you like being the king's mistress."
"Mistress?" She sounded almost alarmed, her whole body stiffening at the word. He cursed imperfect command of the English language.
"Lover," he rushed to correct, pressing his eyes shut at his mistake. "Lover. The king's lover," he hastened. "Mistress means. . . Well, it's not quite right, is it?"
She gave a shrug. "Kings throughout the ages have kept mistresses," she said in a quiet voice. "So what should stop you? I just thought we were—well, that we were something more…important to each other."
"Kelsey, I fear ..." He hesitated, trying to think clearly in English amid a muddled rush of Refarian words. He shook his head to clear it, clasping her by the shoulders with a gentle gesture. "I have chosen the wrong word in your language, I am certain." He shrugged out of his bathrobe, climbing back into the tub. Never taking his gaze off of her, he made a great show of drawing each of her legs around his hips, tugging her close until his groin made contact with hers. She lazed back in the tub, legs wrapped close about him.
"We are committed, Kelsey," he assured her huskily. "More than committed. It is as I said before: We are mated now, sweet human. You are mine." He felt a possessive growl rise up from within, something primal that he'd never once felt with a lover before. "Mine," he repeated with a wondrous grin, thrilling at the sound of the word, at the sense of belonging—and of belonging to—another. Mine, mine, mine, he wished to cry, but managed to quell that nearly uncontrollable urge. "We are mated; we are lovers; we are bonded," he proclaimed in a rush. "I am yours and you are mine."
"Geez, Jared." She laughed, cutting her eyes at him. "And I thought my ex-boyfriend had possession issues." She gave a delicate snort of amusement—and yet also seemed pleased by his possessive streak.
He ran his palm over the top of his head. "Jamie Watson wished to own you," he observed, feeling guilty. "I am not like this man."
"How did you know his name?" Her graceful auburn eyebrows shot upward in surprise.
Without meaning to, he had just betrayed his secret. "Love," he whispered, "we are here. We are now."
"Tell me how you knew Jamie's name," she insisted, sitting upright in the tub. "I never told you what his name was."
"Does it matter?" he asked, snaking his arms around her waist, determined to redirect her to more immediate and corporeal pleasures.
"Yes." Her voice had become hushed, her expression equally intense. Her blue eyes fixed on him, seeming to flash golden-green with emotion; he could see it even by the candlelight here in his bath chamber. "It totally matters, Jared. How did you know?" Her long, spiraling curls hung heavy with dampness, but her scorching gaze was anything but subdued. She pinned him with it, fire flashing from the very depths of her clear eyes. "I met Jamie years after I first met you. You couldn't know his name."
"I saw it," he confessed, running both open palms over her muscular thighs, then skimming them underneath until he clasped her shapely bottom in both hands. "I saw it in your mind. The night of my crash." He'd dreaded her knowing that fact for the past week, but now that they were truly bonded, he felt an exhilarating freedom with this woman. Felt that she should know and sense all that he had kept inside of himself, that she should uncork it as if he were her very own genie—and then she would own him as well.
Her face fell, her expression becoming grave. "I see." She pulled back from him, drawing her legs back against herself.
He stopped with his act of body worship and leveled his gaze at her. "You are angry?"
"It's a little personal, don't you think?" How had they gone from nearly making love one moment to a lovers' quarrel the next? "I mean, what?" she pressed. "You know everything that's inside of me? I don't get to tell you anything myself? Just like that"—she snapped her fingers to illustrate her point—"it's all yours?"
Odd, but he felt his entire body tremble in reply to her question. His heartbeat accelerated; his throat tightened. "We are personal," he said, surprised by the way his voice betrayed his feelings. He clasped both of her hands, placing them on his own dark-skinned thighs. "This is personal, Kelsey."
"I should've had some choice in the matter." Tears glinting in her eyes, she turned to face him. "What else did you see?"
Ah, now this question—this one he had dreaded most of all. What else did you see, idiot king? The answers were too numerous even to address.
He tilted his chin upward, seizing control of the moment like the commander that he was. He even allowed defiance to enter his tone. "Many things," he answered. "I saw many things inside of you, Kelsey."
She leaned closer, placing an open palm over his crazily pounding heart. "Many personal things?"
He lifted an eyebrow in challenge—and yet he had no wish to cause her even a moment's pain. "Many Kelsey things," he told her, his feelings for her coloring his confession. "Many, many facets to the woman I love."
Chewing on her full lower lip, she seemed to think on his answer for a long moment. His heartbeat's tempo took yet another spiraling upward turn until he could feel the very blood coursing through his veins, could feel the muscle in his chest pumping to keep pace with the emotional intensity. Just when he'd begun to wonder if he'd shattered everything between the two of them, she glanced upward and searched his face. Her irises seemed large and black, the emotion in her eyes palpable. But he did not blink beneath her scrutiny, and for long moments they regarded each other. Such strangers they were in one way, aliens completely, and yet fully mated despite that fact.
"You love me?" she asked thickly after a few searching moments.
He bowed his head, smiling. "Sweet human, what else could you possibly think? I loved you years ago, and I love you now."
"Why didn't you tell me you'd seen all those things?" She didn't try to mask the hurt in her voice. "If you'd just told me...."
He shrugged, wishing he had an apology to offer, but there was none. There was only the truth: "I wished you to love me, Kelsey." There, he had said it. "I had already glimpsed everything—it could not be undone. I wished you to believe me a good man, insane as that may now seem."
"Jared!" She slid upward, climbing onto his lap with a burst of heartfelt exuberance until the water sloshed over the rim of the tub and he had to groan with the sudden weight of her upon him. She was not a small woman, not even by his own species' reckoning. "Jared, I do love you. Already. I did from"—she paused, cupping his face within her soft palms and turning it upward until his eyes locked with hers—"well, from the beginning, I think. But you should have told me." She shook her head, tears welling in her cool-eyed gaze again. "I really wish you had before tonight."
"Before we mated," he finished.
"It's a trust thing."
He felt with her now, as he often did with humans, unable to reason out her reaction. "You are angry about this seeing inside of you," he observed, feeling confused, "but not about my forming the bond?"
"I told you that was okay. I told you I wanted to help that night, remember? But this. . . this is you seeing into me."
"Isn't that what lovers do?" he asked, and meant it. Maybe the timing had been wrong, but damn it all, he'd gazed into her as surely as if they'd been mated lovers already. "Don't they see each other's hearts? Very souls?"
She dropped her head. "I wouldn't know."
"You know me now, Kelsey." Taking her chin, he tipped it upward until their eyes met again in the dim light of the candles around them. An array of tapers stood along the ledge of the tiled wall, their flames licking at the otherwise dark room, creating lyrical shadows in every direction. "Did you not see inside of me?" He had wondered—frantically wondered—what she might have glimpsed within him by the lake.
She shook her head, her expression becoming unreadable and sad, but her tender gaze never left his face. "Only images, tonight while we made love." She stroked his cheek, tracing the outline of his scars. He wanted to flinch beneath her close scrutiny, but willed himself not to. "No, I didn't see inside of you, not really. But maybe one day I can."
"I wish you had."
"That's our bond," he said, staring up into her eyes. The blue in them had all but vanished, replaced by bright, sparking green. "You opened to me…did you know that?"
She shook her head, confused. "What does that mean? To open?"
"Most of my species would guard themselves," he explained. "Without even meaning to do so. You... opened. There is not another word for it." The language barrier between them agonized him; he longed for his native tongue in a way he'd not done in years.
"When you appeared, there at the lake after your crash," she said, seeming to choose her own words carefully, "I was terrified of you. But I was drawn to you, too. It was weird, Jared. I wanted to be afraid, but I couldn't be, not really. I felt your goodness. I'm sure some lost part of me remembered you, but it was more than that—much more. It was like down inside of you something beautiful attracted me. Something beautiful and very, very appealing."
He remembered the way she'd responded as they'd formed the bond, how the physicality of it had aroused her. But had it been something about him as well?
"Ah," he whispered, and searched for the right words, but seemed unable to produce another intelligent syllable in English. So he repeated the only ones that came to mind: "Ah, Kelsey."
She bent down to kiss him full on the mouth, almost as if sealing something between the two of them. As he sucked on her lower lip, teasing her with his tongue, she tasted sweet, like the whiskey he'd served her earlier. She even tasted Refarian somehow, infused with the intoxicating kisses he'd been giving her all night long. Perhaps because she truly was a part of him now. He clasped her face in his hands, and she coaxed his lips open, her tongue darting into his mouth, twining with his own.