Parallel Heat Page 2

  She rubbed her thumb over the swollen tip of his erection. ‘‘You’re a virgin,’’ she breathed huskily, and tightened her grip.

  His dark eyes flashed—with what she wasn’t sure. He almost seemed to panic for a moment, then just as quickly the emotion passed, replaced with something much harder. Colder.

  ‘‘Who would I have ever made love to, Thea?’’ he asked wearily, letting his hands drop away from her shoulders. His face became guarded, and she couldn’t read his expression.

  He was pulling away from her—and that simply would not do.

  She climbed on top of him, straddling his waist as she drew her face within a breath of his own. ‘‘A beautiful man like you could have his pick. Any woman would thrill to pleasure Marco McKinley, sovereign protector.’’

  At those words, he closed his eyes tightly shut again. ‘‘No,’’ he groaned, ‘‘they would not.’’

  ‘‘You’re stunning.’’ She pressed her lips against his ear, even as she squeezed her thighs around him and felt the sensation of her toes against the hairless place behind his knees. ‘‘Anyone would be a fool not to love a man such as you.’’

  Oh, Marco, she thought, I could love a man such as you. Quickly, she pushed that thought from her mind. Never! She had a mission here, nothing more. Don’t buy into your own words, Haven.

  Slipping one hand between his legs, she trailed her fingertips over his hardened length, teasing him. Seducing him. Controlling him. A virgin who’d never lain with a woman in his life? Well, this had certainly played to her advantage!

  She’d seen the look of pleasure flare in his eyes when she called him beautiful. Good. Then that same quiet voice whispered in her mind again. He is beautiful . . . unbelievably beautiful. He’d taken her breath away when she’d first seen him tonight, his black hair windblown from the motorcycle, and his smoldering good looks perfectly offset by his black leather jacket and faded blue jeans. She’d been keeping him under surveillance from afar for months, but tonight had been her first really good look at him. For a fleeting moment, she’d found herself disconcerted by his dark Refarian features: the rich, black eyes; the olive skin brushed with a touch of gold; the formidable size of his body. And then she realized why his appearance unsettled her so badly—Marco reminded her of someone else, someone she had strong feelings for.

  Their kiss continued and so did her swirling emotions, spiraling crazily inside her mind and body. Someone familiar. Someone important. Gods, of course! she realized with a shocking jolt, and for a moment she pulled apart from him, gazing into his black, slightly slanted eyes. He blinked back at her, his face ruddy with emotion. His full lips parted, waiting for another of her kisses.

  Of all the men in the universe, why did Marco have to look like her cousin, Jared Bennett, the only man she’d ever loved? But before she had time to react to that association, Marco cupped her face roughly, pulling her close for a much hungrier kiss, his tongue heatedly exploring her mouth. She could feel his heart racing wildly against her chest while her own hammered out a twin crescendo. These feelings—this attachment—will not do, she reminded herself. You are here for one purpose only.

  And with that, she silenced the unexpected, quiet voice of desire this man had spoken within her . . . once and for all.

  She’d laughed at him, at his virginity and inexperience. That had been the final humiliation of this cursed day. He had felt so damn powerless against her as her hands had kneaded his thighs, as she’d rubbed and teased his rock-hard erection until he ached beyond expression. As their kisses grew rougher and fuller as she cradled her hips so perfectly against his, teasing him into a thrusting motion—letting him know what would come next beyond any question or doubt. As he met every gyration of her hips, he knew one fact for certain—he was totally losing control in the arms of his enemy, going over the edge, and there would be no coming back. Never again, not after tonight.

  This woman didn’t just have him in the palm of her hand—she had all of him, his very soul even. No one had ever taken his body and simply pleasured it. He’d been a servant, a warrior, for so long, he’d always thought of himself as the property of others. Yet tonight she was worshipping his body, and it felt achingly, powerfully, disastrously good.

  The gash on his forehead throbbed painfully, and as he became aware of it, her finger traced it lightly. Had she felt his pain? Their kisses stilled, and he stared up into those blue eyes as she touched his wound. Everything about her was the opposite of him. She was all lightness, golden hair, blue eyes—where everything about him was so dark. Even in the half-light of his room, he could see how olive his skin looked next to her fair complexion. She traced the throbbing place on his forehead with the tip of her finger.

  ‘‘Let me fix this,’’ she breathed. She lifted her hand to help him, and he captured her wrist roughly. He knew Thea Haven had been gifted with healing abilities, but he didn’t want to be healed.

  ‘‘No,’’ he growled.

  She raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘‘Why not?’’

  He released her hand slowly, and she resumed tracing her fingers lightly across the wound until he flinched slightly in pain. The cut was physical proof of his crime—he’d kissed his queen tonight, even when he realized the advance was unwelcome. In return, Kelsey had sent him sprawling, headfirst, against her bookshelf.

  ‘‘I want the scar,’’ he breathed. ‘‘I want to remember tonight from now on.’’

  ‘‘They really got to you, Marco, didn’t they?’’ She began trailing hot kisses across his jawline.

  He groaned softly. ‘‘Yes, but now you’re getting to me in whole new ways.’’

  ‘‘You’ve been lonely.’’ Her tongue flicked softly against his earlobe, then she tugged on it between her teeth.

  How could he stand up against this? He didn’t care what she really wanted with him: This was all he needed tonight.

  ‘‘Yes,’’ he moaned quietly into her hair, taking her full breasts in both of his hands.

  She nuzzled his cheek. ‘‘You need this. Me.’’

  ‘‘Yes,’’ he agreed softly, raking his hands through her luxurious blond hair. There was so much of it, and it was all over his face.

  ‘‘What will you do to have me?’’ she teased, straddling his naked body with her own. God, she was so close to him, he could just slide inside her easily; he let his hand find the warm place between her legs. Earlier he’d caught a brief glimpse of a soft tuft of dark blond hair there. She was incredibly wet for him. Could she want this as much as he did?

  ‘‘What . . . ever,’’ he gasped, ‘‘I need to do.’’ He thrust upward clumsily, trying to push himself toward her, but she lifted, holding herself away. He had no idea how to get what he wanted, not without seeming as inexperienced as he was. His face burned with shame, and he tried to work his way into her again—she raised her hips coquettishly, lifting just out of reach.

  ‘‘No, no, Marco. Tell me,’’ she urged with a wicked smile. She was hovering over him now, straddling him. If he weren’t careful, he might lose control before he ever came inside of her. ‘‘Tell me what you will do.’’

  ‘‘I’ll make love to you,’’ he gasped unsteadily.

  She ran her fingers through his hair and laughed, a quiet, seductive sound—the sound of a devil temptress— and said, ‘‘That’s not what I want, Marco. You know what I want.’’

  He didn’t understand what was happening at all. Not what she wanted? She was so wet for him, so seemingly full of desire. But in his heart, he did know what she was after—had known since she’d first appeared in the bar tonight.

  ‘‘Then what?’’ he asked, sucking his breath in quickly. He felt like he was begging her now. He let his hands wander roughly across her backside, cupping her bottom, pulling her closer to him.

  ‘‘I want you to make love to me, yes. But that’s not all.’’ She hesitated, sitting up on top of him until she gazed down at him seriously. ‘‘I want you to come to our camp. I
want you on our side. Jared will never take you back—you do know that, don’t you?’’

  He felt something turn over in his chest, and for a moment thought he might be sick. She had put voice to the words that he hadn’t yet allowed to fully form in his mind. Damn her.

  She did know—everything about tonight; he was certain of it now. That he’d kissed his queen, and then afterward Jared—his protected and king—had banished him from camp forever. Did their enemies have the compound bugged How else could they have known what transpired in the king’s chambers, in private?

  ‘‘Raedus is the true king,’’ she continued, softly stroking his hair away from his forehead. ‘‘Jared is only the leader of a tiny little rebellion; it’s not his destiny to rule anymore. Someone with your’’—she paused, brushing her fingertips over his lips to emphasize her point—‘‘exceptional talents belongs with a real king, Marco.’’

  Suddenly, she captured his hand in her own—so quickly he couldn’t stop her—and a small beam of light emitted from the palm of her hand, falling upon his wrist. Immediately his royal seal appeared in the air between them, the one true proof that he was part of the most elite circle of royal protectors. He was among the last of the Madjin protectors, one of a dying breed.

  ‘‘This is who you are, Marco,’’ she said, gesturing at the undulating royal emblem where it swirled in the darkness between them. ‘‘Jared never respected it, never appreciated it. But Raedus will—he needs you. Our alliance needs you,’’ she whispered and began trailing hot kisses across his forehead, along the edges of his painful cut. Her kisses ended on his eyebrow. ‘‘And I need you. Badly.’’

  He closed his eyes as he felt her stinging kisses along his forehead. They seemed to electrify his pain, intensify it. He tried to pull away from her, and she raised her head slightly, meeting his gaze. Those blue depths were so bleak, but somehow shot full of passion, just like the ocean at Mareshtakes could be—shining, tempting, and treacherous.

  She touched his forehead once again. ‘‘Why would you want this scar?’’ Her voice was surprisingly gentle and sympathetic.

  He steadied her face within his open palms, studying her thoughtfully; when he did finally answer, his voice was an electrified hush: ‘‘Because it’s who I am now, Thea.’’

  In the near darkness, she smiled faintly. ‘‘Good,’’ she breathed, tracing her finger along his eyebrow. ‘‘So you know then.’’

  He could only nod. He wanted inside of her . . . now. No more toying with it. Mine, he thought. She can be mine . . .

  She can never be yours, the voice disagreed, but now she owns you—all of you, from your body to the depths of your soul, they all do. For eternity.

  And the worst part was . . . he no longer cared.

  Chapter One

  Present Day—New Timeline

  The entire camp smelled of sex—the musky, unmistakable scent of mating. The aroma perfumed the air, wafted throughout the main cabin and even outside onto the deck where Thea Haven stood. And as if that wasn’t annoying enough to an unattached, unmated Refarian female, Thea knew exactly who was having said sex: the one man she’d loved for her entire life. The one man she’d waited for, even when other available males within their rebel faction had come forward, suggesting a coupling with her. The one man she’d always been told she would one day marry—her cousin, the exiled king of Refaria.

  Thea blew out a heavy sigh, fighting back the tears that welled in her eyes anew; Jared wasn’t just having sex with any other woman. No, he was completing his mating rites with his new wife. His human wife. And the scent of that mating burned Thea’s nostrils like hot sulfur. Gods above, sometimes she absolutely hated being an intuitive.

  Perhaps if she took a snowmobile over to Base Ten, she could get some reprieve from all the swirling hormones and heat at work here in the main compound. Besides, if she took up residence in the barracks at the base, that would decrease the likelihood of bumping into the newly joined couple on a regular basis. At least for a while. Seeing Jared’s mating glow had been like a slap in the face, and she could only imagine what she’d glimpse now that their rites had been completed. As of tonight, Jared and Kelsey were forever lifemated, bonded, and married. Completely soulbound, and there was no going back from that.

  Thea stepped back inside the main cabin, ignoring the soldiers whose faces turned curiously in her direction. She knew the gossip that was flying about their rebel forces; that the commander had finally taken a wife, after so many years, and that it wasn’t Thea Haven, the council’s formal choice. She also detected some of the less kind gossip about her: That if she’d been the sort of woman who could capture a mate, then perhaps the king would have claimed her as such, not gone wandering among the aliens on this godsforsaken planet to find his bride.

  The gossip burned her ears and broke her heart because Jared’s soldiers would never speak ill of their king and commander. He was beloved and followed, never questioned, and he held the unerring loyalty and respect of every last soldier in his ranks. So there could only be one person to blame for such a disastrous interbreeding mistake as had occurred between Jared and Kelsey. And that one person was none other than herself, Thea Haven, the king’s cousin and once-intended bride. Her shoulders alone bore the blame, and she felt the weight of that unspoken accusation in every gaze that turned upon her as she strode through the cabin toward her quarters, even from all her own subordinate officers. Her rank in the Refarian army no longer mattered, however, for as of today she had been unofficially reclassed and reassigned.

  Quite simply, she was now the woman who had failed to win the king’s heart.

  ‘‘You can’t stay over there on a permanent basis.’’ Scott Dillon scowled at her. Thea was central intelligence advisor over Jared’s entire army, and Scott was military commander, Jared’s second in command.

  ‘‘Look, it’s just for a while.’’ She pitched her uniform, other casual clothes, and some underwear into her bag. Scott watched the belongings accumulate, never commenting on the intimate articles. She continued: ‘‘I can’t deal with being around the two of them, not yet. Seeing them all the time, breakfast, lunch, dinner . . . it’s too much.’’

  ‘‘You can’t deal with it?’’ Scott’s tone was sharp, corrective. He was her superior officer in every way, and his arch reply underscored that fact. ‘‘They are your king and queen and you serve them. I suggest you remember that fact.’’

  She sank onto the side of her small bed, and the tears she’d been fighting all day finally flowed freely. ‘‘Scott, please. I know my place. No one can accuse me otherwise.’’ She wiped at the tears. ‘‘It’s just . . .’’

  Scott dropped onto his haunches, his large, dark eyes becoming even with hers, his momentary irritation quickly replaced by compassion. Scott was, in many ways, like a brother to her. They’d fought side by side for a long time now, from the time Thea entered the military at the age of sixteen, and they’d been outposted together here on Earth for the past six years. ‘‘Go on,’’ he encouraged with a nod. ‘‘What were you going to say?’’

  ‘‘He was going to be my husband, not hers,’’ she blurted, the tears starting in earnest. ‘‘From the time I was an infant we were always promised to one another. Always. Scott, you of all people know how it was supposed to be.’’

  ‘‘That was before the war escalated, Thea,’’ he reminded her gently. ‘‘Everything changed after that . . . for all of us.’’

  Oh, and it had changed all right. Jared’s parents had been murdered when he was still only a boy, placing him on the throne at barely ten years of age. He had been exiled at seventeen; become a fierce rebel leader by eighteen. Somewhere in all that fighting and bloodshed and loss, they’d all lost their innocence too, but more than that, they’d lost who they were truly meant to be.

  ‘‘So we blame yet one more thing on this war!’’ She brushed at the tears angrily.

  ‘‘It isn’t blame, Thea.’’ Scott shook his head, gazing
hard into her eyes. ‘‘It’s the facts.’’

  She rubbed her eyes. ‘‘Jared deserves to be happy. I told him so. I want him to be happy! But he’s forsaken his throne in marrying that, that . . .’’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘‘Th-that human!’’

  ‘‘A human who is now our queen,’’ he rebuked gently.

  ‘‘So you’ve already pointed out.’’

  ‘‘And Jared’s throne, well, I don’t think the old ways should apply while he’s in exile,’’ he continued.

  She threw up her hands in anger. ‘‘All the more reason that he should have married me and not her!’’

  ‘‘But he didn’t, Thea,’’ Scott pressed carefully. ‘‘He chose Kelsey Wells, who is now his bonded lifemate and wife. And she is, therefore, your queen. Your queen, Thea . . . think about that. You’ve got to stay here, in the main compound, and work past these emotions.’’

  Thea leapt to her feet and spun from him, pacing the length of her small quarters in agitation. ‘‘Have you not heard the rumors?’’ she blurted, feeling angry and hurt that Scott wasn’t more on her side.

  ‘‘The rumors will settle in time,’’ he answered simply. So he, too, had caught the gossip that she’d sensed buzzing all about them like agitated bees.

  She paused before her small closet mirror, staring at her reflection. Pale blue eyes stared back, eyes she’d once heard described as ‘‘holding no emotion.’’ Maybe all her fellow soldiers thought she was cold and without feeling. Maybe that’s why they could be so cruel in their gossip. ‘‘They’re all blaming me,’’ she whispered heavily.

  ‘‘Of course they are,’’ he said. ‘‘We always bear the brunt of his choices; the people love Jared too much to ever condemn him.’’