Parallel Attraction Read online

  She was so close upon him, he could feel the warmth of her breath tickling his cheek, and her steady heartbeat beneath the palm he'd splayed across her back.

  "Jared," she groaned in his ear as he cupped her bottom, holding her firm atop his groin. His erection pressed into her thigh, and he ached with need for her. Gods, how he wanted her—more than earlier, more than during the past week. His heart and loins thundered with his desperate hunger for his mate.

  "Jared?" she whispered in his ear, her voice a coquettish, seductive sound.

  "Umm?" he managed, feeling her lift atop him slightly. Her hand slipped between them, closing about his erection. He cried out at the intimate touch.

  "I'm going to do something," she warned him with a vixen's laugh right in his ear, never relinquishing her hold on the hardened length of him.

  "Okay." The word came out all breathless and desperate. Damn it all, he had no control with this human. "Do. . . what?" He gasped, practically begging, as she gave his erection another tantalizing stroke, her thumb lingering on the vein underneath until he growled.

  Her moody eyes narrowed with desire, and she positioned herself squarely on his lap, over him. Then in one swift, aggressive move, she sheathed herself over his hardened length. The faucet knob pushed into the back of his neck, and he braced his feet against the tub's ledge as she rocked atop him with a furious motion. This time it wasn't gentle or beautiful; this taking of hers was fierce and binding. She wanted to seize something from him—just as he had taken from her soul that night at the lake.

  Men and kings and rulers all wished to dominate him; never did he submit. But this lover of his . . . he yearned for their bond to be equal—and she needed to take him. With a muffled groan of pure pleasure, he closed his eyes and let himself fall under her control.

  Her thighs tightened, pulling against his, and her fingers clawed at his shoulders. Water swelled over the sides of the tub, sloshing onto the tiled floor. Over and over he moaned her name, whispered it, prayed it. All the while he felt something unfamiliar rising to a crescendo in his blood, something that could never be denied. But he ignored the siren song of that thing, focusing only on Kelsey, right here, right now, atop him. He could feel the deepest place inside of her, like a slick, grasping caress. Unrelenting, she continued to move atop him, gasping, throwing her head back in ecstasy.

  On and on they went for long, aching minutes. Kelsey wrapped her arms around Jared, pressing her abdomen flat against his. Her breasts moved against his face, and the bristling of his shadowed beard scraped at her nipples. She didn't care; she had to have all of this man who already owned so much of her. He'd wanted her to love him, and she did, completely, but there was a possessing that also needed to happen here. Beneath her, his skin seemed darker than before—he seemed darker, more ambiguous.

  "What"—she gasped as she rocked atop him—"did"—more movement, her pushing down atop him—"you. . . see?" she cried out, her own orgasm ripping through her core as she felt his burning essence fill her.

  She cried out and he gasped, his face twisting into a glorious wince of pain and bliss. He grasped at her, his large hands steadying her atop him. He'd slid down into the tub beneath her until he was in a contorted position that didn't look even remotely comfortable—but her alien king made zero complaints. Now they stared at each other, almost squared off into a battle of wills, his chest rising with frantic breaths.

  "I saw that you are unique," he answered, panting. "I saw that you are kind and strong, untouched by the evil I've known all my days." He paused, his sensuous eyes narrowing. "I saw that you possessed every quality my heart has secretly longed for in a wife." Wife? But then again, what else was a lifemate? "I saw," he said, easing her off of him, "that humans, despite this war I'm embroiled in, are good and noble people—that is, if they are like you, my love."

  She pitched forward, tears suddenly coming unbidden. She leaned against him, feeling his hands trace her backbone, caress the whole of her body. And she wasn't certain why she cried; maybe it was realizing that he knew her through and through. Maybe it was that she could never know him in the same way, not without this alien ability of looking into someone's soul. Or maybe it was just that she felt—despite how he'd invaded her initially, against her will—full trust for him. And there was a tremendous relief that came with that realization.

  She should feel robbed of something—should have felt, as she had at first, that she wanted to take something from him in turn. But what she felt, here with the warmth of the lapping water around them both, with his muscled warrior's body beneath her and his strong arms around her, was something unexpectedly foreign the complete, abiding, perfect trust of belonging to another. And she did belong, not just as Jared's mate or lover, but she belonged here with him, right in his arms. Somehow across the twining, circuitous paths that traversed the galaxies, her soul mate had come to her.

  "On Refaria, we have an understanding of time that is different from yours," he whispered, petting her hair gently. "It flows forward and backward; sometimes it folds sideways or makes a contortion." She sniffled loudly, her face still buried against his sinewy shoulder. "But the main thing time does is bring us to the place where we belong."

  I belong with you, she thought, closing her eyes. She hadn't belonged anywhere in such a long, long time—not really. Hot tears squeezed out, rolling down her face and blending with the warm bathwater. Oh, I so belong here.

  "Some of my people even believe time to be a mirror," he continued in a whisper, "reflecting all our infinite possibilities, in multiple dimensions."

  She pulled back to look in his eyes. "I have studied physics," she reminded him, sniffling. "So I'm familiar with hyperspace theory."

  "But I'm talking about more than theories, Kelsey," he continued. "What I'm getting at is. . . the way you felt you could trust me? That you seemed to know me? Not just now, but also when we met as children? Perhaps on some other planet somewhere, you already did. Perhaps you beheld the future, folding onto the moment—and knew I was your mate."

  "I recognized you." In all his glorious, terrifying beauty, she had definitely known him. It was all beginning to make sense, even to a scientist like herself.

  "And I you."

  Then, breaking into a surprising, boyish grin—almost lopsided—he traced his fingertip over her breastbone, outlining a constellation of freckles. "I even knew these."

  She leaned upward onto his lap and touched the fanned edges of his almond-shaped eyes. "And I knew these."

  "We knew each other," he affirmed with a nod. Somehow, when he put it in great philosophical terms like that, his seeing all her secrets no longer seemed such a very big thing after all.

  Chapter Ten

  Jared left Kelsey soaking in the tub, a half-dazed expression on her face; their interspecies mating had obviously taken quite a toll on her human body. Blissful, celestial, holy, the joining had nonetheless been exhausting for her system—as had all the emotional interactions between the two of them. Kissing the top of her forehead, he promised to return soon with a surprise, and she sank down into the frothy bubbles with a smile on her face. Just as he'd suspected: The woman loved surprises.

  Mirror Lake had been a surprise—the ultimate one for her—yet she'd welcomed him with open hands and heart, then displayed that same lack of inhibition making love with him tonight. She'd even begged for his fiery other self to touch her. Rarely had Jared felt that kind of deep, resounding acceptance, not in all his thirty years as a dual being. In his most natural state, none dared approach: people feared him, revered him, and if he were critically injured, they attempted to cure him. But none had ever longed to touch him in D'Aravnian form.

  Not so with Kelsey. She had wanted his fire to roam all over that luscious curving body of hers, caressing, teasing her—and had never once counted the cost. Perhaps next time he might dare to move even closer in his fiery form. She would be safe, he promised himself, swallowing hard; he could dance near his love, keepin
g distance enough not to harm her. In reaction, the bath towel he'd snaked around his hips tented upward with lustful enthusiasm, and he made a rough rumble of desire. Silence, man, or you'll frighten her, his calmer side cautioned. This is all new to her. She does not yet understand what you are.

  Rubbing a palm over his hammering heart, he worked to center his thoughts. The plan. He had to focus on the plan, which had formed in his mind as a way of expressing something human to Kelsey. One thing Jared had come to understand during his six years on Earth was that her species valued their pleasures. Not just the physical-ecstasy kind like the two of them had shared tonight, or life's greatest pleasures, but the simple ones as well. Food, drink, sleep. Humans enjoyed even the most mundane elements of their existence, and when denied them, they chafed and grew irritable. His own life was a rugged one, with long hours of soldiering and dismal prospects for peace, but he wanted Kelsey to know something better in his arms. He wanted her first night joined with him to be one marked by all the sorts of indulgences that he imagined must matter to her.

  And so his plan: He yearned to draw his exotic lifemate up into bed and feed her. Feed her little bits of chocolate and cookies and grapes, even give her sips of that blasted whiskey he loved so much. Then, after this royal banquet, he intended to massage her feminine toes with some kind of lotion or oil—but where to find such things? Warriors kept no chocolate, no lotion.

  Passing by the bathroom door again, he watched Kelsey adjust the faucet with said toes, and he smiled. She possessed beautiful, delicate feet, ones that required adoring. A quick glance at his bedside clock showed the time to be just after midnight, which meant that only watch patrols were about—and possibly Anika, who rarely slept more than an hour or two each night, seemingly powered on bottomless reserves of energy. Ah, his dear Anika. When it came to doting on her king, she was perhaps the worst in this camp, he thought with a devilish smile. Yes, she would know exactly where to find what he needed.

  Jared crept into Anika's room, the hall light arcing across the pine floorboards. In the top bunk, her twin sister Anna sprawled on her stomach and snored, one pale arm dangling over the side listlessly. In the lower bunk, Anika had folded herself into a neat, quiet ball, sleeping without making any noise whatsoever. Squatting beside Anika's bed, he gave her shoulder a nudge. Her eyes snapped open, then widened in alarm upon finding her commander bedside at such a late hour. He lifted a finger to his lips, indicating quiet. "All is well," he assured her, and relief washed over her features. He gave her a warm smile. "But I could use a little help."

  "Certainly, my lord." She sat up without missing a beat, all business—and always the disciplined soldier. "Tell me how I may assist you. Is it further help with Kelsey Wells, sir?"

  Did he look as shy and absurd as he suddenly felt? He had no business here, pawing around for such common things. Had he lost his mind? Anika might be his dear friend, but first and foremost she served within his military ranks.

  "It is... nothing," he answered, his smile turning downward into a frown. "I shouldn't have wakened you. Back to sleep, soldier." He rose to his feet, but Anika followed.

  "Please, my lord," she insisted, bowing slightly. "I wish to help with the human." The bow deepened, became a low gesture, and she placed one fist over her chest in pledge. He could trust this woman; there were few in all his elite forces more loyal or more deserving of his faith. Only Scott ranked higher as a friend and confidant. "Please, Anika," he whispered hoarsely. "Rise."

  She obeyed, pulling up to her full, willowy stature. "Tell me how I may help." She looked up at him, her face open and kind.

  "I require chocolate," he grunted rather unpleasantly, folding both arms over his chest. His robe fell open then, revealing his bare chest beneath, still flushed with the afterglow of mating. Anika averted her eyes and he added, "Very fine chocolate."

  The edges of Anika's fan-shaped eyes turned slightly upward with joy. "Chocolate, my lord?" Oh, this pleased his lieutenant—pleased her quite a bit, in fact, from what he could see. Among his people, those who attempted such workings were called lalalosungs: a mellifluous term for those with a sneaky habit of matchmaking.

  "Lalalosung." He pointed an accusing finger at her face, but his frown began to tug into a smile.

  "Courting king," she shot back at him, eyes gleaming. For a long moment each regarded the other in challenge. Then Jared burst into rumbling peals of laughter—couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried—until, on the upper bunk, Anna stirred. Anika yanked him by the hand, pulling him down to sit on her bed before Anna woke and discovered her commander standing beside her. He nearly slammed his forehead into the frame of the upper bunk, but fortunately missed the wooden beam by an inch or so.

  Once they were settled and Anna's snoring had resumed, Anika leaned close, smiling at him. "My lord, did you know that humans consider chocolate to be a sort of love token?" Her low voice assumed a conspiratorial quality. "Some even say it's an aphrodisiac for their kind."

  He felt himself blush at her remark. "Yes, I have heard this."

  "I wasn't sure if you knew that, sir." She leaned under the bed to retrieve a small box of private things, which she then deposited on the mattress between the two of them. When she removed the lid, there in the middle of the trunk sat a golden, perfect box, like the most royal case of jewels, bearing the legend godiva. Was this the name of a human deity? He cocked his head, heightening his vision so he could better read the lettering in the dark: godiva. Ah, a single word. Yes, he had heard this term before here on Earth, though where precisely, he could not recall.

  "They make delicious, wonderful chocolate," she promised him, her dark eyes growing wide.

  Nodding toward the gilded box, he asked, "How did you procure this?"

  "I have my ways," she answered cryptically, sliding the unopened box across the bed.

  "This seems a prize item." He pushed it back toward her with his fingertips.

  She shook her head, beaming at him. "Take it," she almost sang, though in a whisper, again slipping the box across the bed like a golden pawn. "It's your mating night, my lord."

  He opened his mouth in disbelief. The woman knew! Somehow, blast it all, his adviser knew that he and Kelsey had crossed the ultimate barrier together. "How did you—"

  She took his hands, closing them beneath hers atop the box. "I would recognize that look anywhere." Her eyes gleamed with emotion. "The look of a man who has taken his lifemate."

  He gaped back at her, puzzled. "The robe?" he suggested, fingering the terry cloth collar as if it would explain things.

  She shook her head. "That would only suggest that you had taken the human as lover—not," she added, beaming at him, "as lifemate."

  "Then?"

  "You glow, my lord," she trilled, gesturing toward him. "From the inside, all the way out."

  He gazed downward self-consciously, and there, beneath his open collar, he could see the golden hue that emanated from his bare, muscled chest.

  "Ah," he agreed softly, "so I do."

  "And I, along with the rest of your subjects, have a queen. At long last." She clapped her hands together like an innocent child. "My king and I both have a queen." Unexpected tears gleamed in her sparkling eyes, visible by the doorway light. He bent low and brushed a kiss of gratitude across his friend's cheek.

  Anika was right: He had a queen. At long last, he did have a queen. And so did his beloved Refarian people. Everything had changed this night.

  Kelsey retrieved a fire-warmed towel from where it hung on a hook by the hearth. She'd visited many posh places with her father over the years, but she wasn't sure she'd ever stayed anywhere with a fireplace in the bathroom. This one was made of stacked stone and stood in the corner, gas logs burning low.

  No wonder the alien loved fires, she thought. Like some great mythological being, Jared was fire. It coursed in his body, powered through his loins, ran in his blood. Lifting a hand to her flushed face, she marveled at how he'd brushed his fe
verish warmth across her cheeks just by kissing her. Every place he'd touched glowed afterward—no, it burned. Not with a painful sensation, but a pleasurable, arousing one. It was as if he'd pushed right up inside of her with his other self, the vibrant one made of pure shimmering gold, and stroked her into fiery oblivion. No man had ever touched her that way. No other man ever could.

  Smiling at the memory of their lovemaking, she caught a sideways view of herself in the mirror. Here she stood, half-naked and in a man's bedroom suite, and she felt . . . unashamed. Gorgeous. For once, she was with a man who wasn't shorter than she was—or even of approximately the same height—but one who actually stood many inches taller. It was a shockingly feminine sensation, being towered over by a man. By a lover.

  Even though she and Jared had been apart for only a few minutes, she felt impatient for his return. He'd said something about a surprise—what kind of surprise, exactly? Well, she could only imagine, when she was dealing with a man capable of flying over water in the form of a glowing orb. Yeah, that whole fire thing would be so easy to explain to her father and to her friends. She thought of Ethan and his persistent scientist's habit of investigation. If he ever scented the first idea of who Jared was, he'd never back off until he'd figured the whole thing out. She'd just have to make sure Jared Bennett never once intersected with her real life. Besides, despite what he'd said earlier today about her returning to Laramie, she had no immediate plans to leave him here.

  Then she had a sinking thought: She had been here at Jared's home for two full days. What if her father had been phoning her? Or if Dr. Carrington had been trying to track her down with the lab results? The voice of responsibility tried to knock on her skull, but for once she kicked it back into the corner. She'd been responsible plenty of times. In fact, she'd spent her entire life being responsible. Dutiful. The good daughter and student and earth citizen. Besides, it wasn't like her father was exactly consulting her on his own love life these days, so she damn sure wasn't going to ask his opinion of Jared. And whenever she did? Geez, what would Patrick Wells have to say about the Refarian king, rebel leader extraordinaire? She winced; a time would come for facing her father about all this. Thank God it wasn't tonight.