Breaking Through (20 page)

My whole body shakes, and I open my eyes. Rain pours down from dark clouds hovering the length of my room. Kray is on top of me, shaking me. As soon as we lock gazes, he lets go and crosses his arms. The annoyed façade doesn’t mask the concern in his eyes.

“You can get off me too, you know,” I grunt.

He scoots down low enough so I can finally breathe, but I’m still pinned down.

“Gee, thanks,” I mutter.

I raise my hands and the storm dissipates. A minute later, I have the excess water evaporated from my bed, my clothes, and Kray.

After I finish, my best friend studies me, his eyes narrowing. I know the drill by now. He’s in my head, so I just stare back until he’s done.

“That’s some freaky shit,” he says, shaking his head.

“Tell me about it.”

“There’s some non-freaky shit too, though.” He shoots me an impish half-grin, putting on the charm to distract me from the nightmare.

“You heard something non-freaky in my mind? How is that possible?”

“Not what I heard, princess. What I saw.”

I sit up as much as I can with him lording over me, intrigued. “What did you see?”

“The wall inside your head. Or, to be specific, what’s left of the wall.”

I tilt my head. “The wall’s gone?”

“Not gone, but it’s falling. Which makes me wonder…do you remember anything else besides what was in your dream?”

I close my eyes and search into the depths of my brain. “Someone puts a bag over my head, and then I feel a prick at my neck. Then everything goes black.”

“Nothing else? That’s it?”

“Nope. That’s it. Wait, no. Cara called me Nautia in the dream, not Nate. This is Nate’s past, so why did she address me as me?”

Kray shrugs, unfazed. “Because you’re dreaming it. You’re not a psychic. All of this could be half-fiction, half-truth. Didn’t you say you star in the dreams, instead of Nate?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Probably doesn’t mean anything.” He pauses for a second, thinking. His hypnotic gray eyes stare off without seeing. “The emotional training with Riley? Starts tomorrow?”

“That’s what he said. He wasn’t specific on the time.”

“Good. If you can break through your emotional barrier, the rest of the wall could crumble.”

“Speaking of Riley, where is he?”

“Do you really want to know, or do you just want me to get off your hips?”

I fake-smile. “Both. You’re crushing me.”

Kray rolls off the bed and saunters out of my room. Next, I hear him knocking on Riley’s door. A few seconds pass before he swings back in and collapses on my bed.

“He’s not there.”

I frown, glancing at the clock. “It’s three a.m.”

Kray looks around me at the red numbers. “Nice job, Nautia. Telling time is such an important skill. I’m glad you finally mastered it. Next week, we’ll try an analog clock.”

I punch his shoulder. “Smart ass.”

“I don’t stay
in my room every night, sweetheart. Unlike you, there are ladies on board who welcome my company.” Haskal sweeps in closer to Nautia and trails a couple of fingers down her cheek. My heart speeds up, and I want to rip his arm off.

Except I can’t, because Haskal and I planned this exercise last night. Exact word choice, however, is left up to him. I have to see this through to its conclusion.

“You know what would make it better?” He leans in and whispers something in her ear.

Nautia’s eyes go wide, and her mouth opens in disgust. She shoves him away, and immediately the ship rocks.

“God, Haskal. Get away from me!” She pushes past him and sits down at the cafeteria table.

With a grin, Haskal finishes filling his tray before he slides in beside her. The guy is an asshole. Cara obviously saw it too. But I’m going to use Cara’s plan to teach Nautia control instead of the other way around.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?” she says, scooting away on the bench.

“No. Your actual words were ‘get away from me.’ But then you’re the one who left, so I doubted you knew what you were talking about.” His hand slithers up her thigh, his eyes fixated on her breasts.

I hate this guy.

“Come on, Nautia. Tonight. Ivan’s cabin. Three girls are better than one,” he murmurs, his voice oozing of sleaze.

The ship sways in the opposite direction.

“You’re a dick, Haskal,” she says.

“Ah! So you’ve been thinking about my dick? You want the first taste, sweetheart?” He thrusts his hips into the air and grabs himself. “I’ll give you a nice ride.”

Even from where I’m standing, I see the waves surging in Nautia’s eyes. Her cheeks redden, her gaze pinned to the wall in front of her.

“Hmmm. I bet you get so wet,” he goes on.

The water spins in Nautia’s glass like a maelstrom, and my guess is if I saw the ocean from here, I’d see a larger one swirling.

Haskal grins, happy with the response he’s getting. I have all commanders on the top deck. Gibson’s out there too, ready to levitate away another twister should one form. They’re prepared for whatever Nautia throws at them.

Haskal leans in for the kill. He trails the tip of his tongue from her jaw, up the side of her face. “You like it in the back, baby? ’Cause I want to bend you over and ream your ass.”

That’s it. I’m going to ream this assface right off this ship.

The
Triton
lurches to the side, throwing me against the doorjamb. A quick glance from Haskal tells me it’s my turn to take over. Britta and Kray have their legs wrapped around the bolted-down table, Kray’s body shielding Britta. Kray shoots me a look, but doesn’t interfere.

When I reach Nautia, her eyes are drilling into Haskal. Waves rise and crash, swirl and move around her pupils.

“Control, Nautia. Control,” Haskal says, turning serious and keeping eye contact. “If you can’t handle me, how will you handle Cara?”

Nautia blinks, momentarily returning from her trance. Her hands fist at her sides. The erratic movements of water through her irises tell me she’s fighting her urges.

I don’t touch her but slide in close. Coolness wafts off her skin.

“Break through, Nautia. Don’t surrender to the emotion,” I tell her, replacing Cara’s ingrained mantra. “Break through.”

Nautia’s eyelids fall closed as she unclenches her hands. The water in her drinking glass slows its rotation, and the ship dulls to a gentle swaying. I catch Kray’s attention. With an impressed head-bob, he shows his approval.

When Nautia’s eyes open, both the water and the ship have stilled completely. Ignoring Haskal, she rotates to face me. Her chest rises as she works to catch her breath.

“Training?” she asks.

I nod to confirm.

Her shoulders relax. “I didn’t kill anyone, so did I pass?”

As soon as she says it, she bites her lower lip, drawing my attention there. Suddenly, I don’t care who else is in the cafeteria. I close the distance between us, cup her face, and kiss her.

I peck the tip of her nose. “E for effort.”

“Cliché.”

I laugh. “I don’t grade until the task is complete.”

A flirtatious glint passes over her features. “How will I know how I’m doing, then?”

“I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Kray fake-coughs behind us. “Can you two keep your thoughts to yourself? I’m getting visuals.” He pauses for a moment. “On second thought …”

“My mind is suddenly clear,” Nautia says.

“Blocking you out again,” I tell him.

“You’ve got to teach me how to do that,” Nautia replies.

Kray grunts. “I think Riley has taught you enough.”

Her head tips up to me, blue-green eyes brightening. “Not yet.”

The next few weeks sail by, with progress made both in the simulation room and with Nautia’s emotional connection to her power. Unfortunately, we’re still far from calling either a success.

My commanders have joined us for simulations, and we routinely make it to the weapons facility. Only half of the time, though, do we get inside. We’ve yet to make it back out.

Nautia stays on high alert. Kray, Britta, and even Gibson have tried to get a rise out of her, but so far, Haskal seems to be the only person who can piss her off enough to make the encounter worth it. In Nautia, fear is a more difficult emotion to produce than anger, so for the last couple of days, I’ve sent her into the simulation room alone. I hate it, because she has to deal with whatever the computer gives her, and I’m helpless from the outside. The scenarios are working though; outside, the ocean has gone wild.

“You ready?” I ask.

Her toes rest on the edge of the red line, her focus on the center of the room. Her lips pucker as she exhales.

“Yeah. I’m ready,” she finally says. Then she crosses the line.

The area within the perimeter goes dark. When the lights return, all I see is Nautia’s outline. She’s lying horizontal on the floor. Her legs thrash, her body twists. In most of the scenarios, like this one, she relives her nightmares. Especially the ones where she’s inside the capsule. Her fear is that she’ll end up like her brother, killed by the element she’s supposed to control.

USS Triton
rocks and sways as she fights against the horror she experiences. Standing on the outside, all I can do is hold my breath. I watch her struggles, but I can’t help her. She’s alone in this, and I never want her to be that way.

By the time the ship settles and the lights come back on, I’m dying to hold her. Instead of walking toward me, she remains on the floor, unmoving. She’s on her side, knees curled up to her chest and hands over her head. It takes half a second for me to realize something’s wrong. I run to her and fall to my knees beside her.

“Nautia,” I say, rolling her onto her back. Her face is scrunched up, and tears fall freely down her cheeks.

“I can’t do this, Riley. I can’t stop him from dying.”

I gather her up in my arms. Press a kiss to her temple. “You can’t change the past. What’s done is done.”

She shakes her head against me. “He was better than me. He should have been able to control it. Why
couldn’t
he?”

“I don’t know. But what happened to Nate won’t happen to you. You
can
control it.”

“No, but I couldn’t. The water, it kept urging me to do something, but it kept rising and rising. I was completely submerged, and I did nothing.”

I push her back from me to look at her. “You mean Nate, right? Nate did nothing.”

Nautia wipes the tears from her cheeks. “What?”

“It was Nate trapped in the torpedo. This was just a simulation.”

“I know. I said Nate.”

“No, you said ‘I.’
I
was submerged.”

“I meant Nate,” she says in a hurry, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

I study her as her gaze shifts to the floor. The blue-green of her eyes lighten momentarily. All the standard signs are there. She’s hiding something.

“What aren’t you telling me, Nautia?”

“I don’t know. Kray says the wall in my head is breaking down, but instead of getting answers, I’m even more confused.” She sits back and unleashes her latest nightmare to me. When she’s finished, a million things run through my mind as I analyze it. From the identical Oriental rug, to the fact Cara used Nautia’s name instead of Nate’s, to exactly where Nautia felt the pinprick of the injection.

These aren’t just nightmares. They’re more like memories, except Nautia wasn’t there for the memories to belong to her. And she’s not a retrocognitive psychic.

“How much of the wall did Kray say is left?”

“Enough that he still can’t see behind it.”

The wall. Nate’s death. Nautia’s lack of control. Her memory loss. They’re all connected, but blocked from her consciousness. The truth, the answers are inside her head. And there’s only one way to get to them.

I stand up and extend my hand to her. “Come on.”

“Aren’t we doing another simulation?”

“Not tonight.”

“Emotional training over?”

I smirk as I sweep her up. “Not exactly. Remember that master bedroom I mentioned a while back? Wanna see it?”

A geyser erupts
inside my stomach. Hot water falls into my blood and is carried through my body. My heart races as Riley opens the door to his captain’s quarters, located on B-deck and isolated from the commanders’ quarters. He flips on the light, letting me in.

I’d imagined a hotel room with soft blankets, six pillows, and a decent amount of space. What I get, though, is a queen-sized bed, the same scratchy standard sheets that are on my mattress, two too-soft, under-stuffed pillows, and barely more room than my own cabin.

Riley takes my hand and pulls me behind him to his bed. “I didn’t lie about the bed.”

I plop down, surprised when the mattress doesn’t creak like mine. It’s actually pretty comfortable.

“Okay”—I swallow—“what’s the plan?”

“Do you trust me?” he asks, taking my face between his palms and drawing my mouth to his. He stops just before our lips touch.

When I hesitate, he continues, “If you say no, then we stop here.”

I don’t answer right away. Some mixture of fear, anticipation, and passion swirls inside me, making my heart pound.

Breathe. Relax. Slow your heart rate.

I’m not sure what I’m so scared of though. Over and over again, Riley has proven himself; no one has been hurt during my exercises. Sure, there’d been a few close calls, but Riley had been prepared, stopping anything that could have jeopardized someone’s life.

“I trust you,” I hear myself say, and suddenly my mouth goes dry.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he murmurs against my ear, the husk in his voice driving into my abdomen.

The energy in the room shifts. The air thickens, and I feel my body reacting to the heat racing off Riley’s skin. It’s warm, sensual—

Intoxicating.

I clear my mind. Focus on the sound of my heart. The shiver racing down my spine. The ache between my legs that already longs to be released.

Yes, I trust Riley.

Strong hands glide down my neck. Fingers intertwine through my hair, and he gently lowers me to the mattress. Smoldering gold follows me, revealing his desire. Lips press against my neck, and I let my knees fall open.

I barely register the sway of his bedroom as the ship rocks to one side.

“Control, Nautia,” Riley says. I slide my concentration to the pull of water all around me and command it to stillness. The ocean obeys, and the ship halts.

An impish grin plays on Riley’s lips before he smashes them against mine. He’s testing me. Pushing me to the limits of pleasure to see if I’ll maintain control.

I accept the challenge, responding by lifting my hips and wrapping my legs around him. I find him, hard and ready, and I work my hips, circling and pressing against him. He doesn’t move, leaving the rhythm up to me and driving me crazy. The small moan he makes in my ear almost undoes me.

Oh I want more!

Screw control. I grab onto the back of his shirt, clenching the material into my fists. I pull it up until the glorious warmth of skin grazes my fingertips. Hard muscle moves under my palms, exciting me even more. Waves of blood rushing like currents to my breasts, making them beg to be noticed.

“Nautia.”

The sound of Riley’s voice pulls me from my frenzy long enough to hear the warning in his tone. The ship is swaying again, and it takes more of my energy to focus on bringing the ocean back to equilibrium. I fight the emotion pooling in my stomach, crying out for me to just let go. But I force it back. Keep it in check.

I can’t lose control.

When I exhale, the humidity has evaporated, and I concentrate on Riley again. How he’s slowly working my shirt up over my breasts. How my skin absorbs the warmth in his wake. I lift my arms above my head, and a sexy smirk appears on his face.

Hands smooth down my arms, the material pushed up with them. Riley dips to my neck again, and the tip of his tongue runs along the sensitive skin under my earlobe.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Riley murmurs. “What should I do to you tonight?”

I forget how to swallow. Words catch in my throat, and all I can do is squirm under him in an effort to maintain discipline.

Like he had last time I was under him, he unhooks my bra with the stealth of an aircraft bomber. He flings it onto the floor, then circles my areola with the pad of a finger, slowly swirling it upward until he reaches the peak. My panties are soaking wet. I tighten my inner muscles to hold back a climax.

“I haven’t heard an answer yet,” he reminds me, his voice dripping with sex. “How do you want me to make you come?”

I know he’s working up my emotions, my hunger, to teach me control, but I don’t give a damn. Riley is half naked, his body pressed against mine, and I
want
to lose control. Have him plunge deep inside me until I scream out his name in complete and utter surrender. Yeah, that’s exactly what I want.

“Fuck me,” I say, and after the words are out, I realize I’m begging. And not only with my mouth. My body wiggles beneath him, pleading for skin on skin.

Golden irises sparkle as they cut to mine before moving down my torso. His mouth clasps onto my nipple, his tongue lapping and stroking and driving me crazy. I’m not paying attention to the energy in the room. How can I? I’m lost in the sensation ripping into my abdomen and down to my core.

Riley sucks one last time before he lets go. Teasingly, he places a trail of kisses between my breasts.

“I’m not going to fuck you tonight,” he says as he descends to my stomach. At my belly button, he hooks under the waistband of my yoga pants. A few more kisses replace the elastic he lowered. “But you know what I am going to do?”

He doesn’t wait for my answer before sliding the pants and my underwear down my legs. Fingers glide over the jagged scar on my calf, but he doesn’t seem to register the imperfection. He slips my clothes over my feet and they land on the floor.

Riley grabs my hips and pulls my ass down to the edge of the bed. “I’m going to suck all that sweet honey off these gorgeous lips.”

I watch as his head lowers. Then I close my eyes in an anticipation that’s killing me. Warm breath flows over me.

A touch.

A lick—

Ho. Ly. Waterfall!

Riley’s tongue rolls over me like a river, consuming me. I lift my hips. Press into him, unable to get enough. He cups my butt cheeks and squeezes as I move.

I widen my legs. Place both of my hands on his head to bring him closer. Wet laps echo in my ears, building my pleasure. Drops of rain plop onto my forehead, my stomach, and I know I should stop. I should concentrate on the water molecules filling the room, on the rocking of the ship.

I should—

But I don’t. I can’t. My entire body is consumed with Riley’s tongue. He doesn’t stop even though raindrops fall over him too. He releases me with one hand to grab ahold of the bed and steady himself as the ship lurches to one side. Still, he keeps licking me, pleasuring me into a state of absolute ecstasy.

And that, I figure, is why he’s not stopping. He has warned me twice. Now it’s my turn to recognize my loss of control and correct it.

My fingers dig into his hair. I squeeze my eyes closed, fighting against the mounting climax of my body and the rising waves outside. Riley moans, sucking my clit into his mouth. I’m on the verge of climaxing.

I shake my head, torn between my emotions and their effect between release and restraint.

Riley pauses. Feeling his gaze on me, I open my eyes and look at him.

“You can do this. It’s inside you. Break through.”

Somehow I nod—I think—and with his eyes still fixed on me, his tongue goes back to playful abandon.

His belief in me is the spark I need. But instead of taking my emotion and rolling it into a ball to force back into the dark corners of my soul, I let it expand—spread through my chest, my legs, my arms. Carefully, I weave it around my veins until I’m full of
my
energy.

And then I—

Explode.

The fear, the pleasure, the pain I’ve buried deep within me pours out. I tilt my head back as unbridled floods out of me. The temperature in Riley’s room drops, and goose bumps poke up on my skin. Behind my eyelids, my wall crashes down and lost memories wash over me like the tide.

I relive the moments in my mind on quick-play until I open my eyes. Riley is studying me. Then he does a small flick up to the small window above his headboard. I tilt my head back to follow his gaze, expecting the worst, but I see nothing besides a starlight black sky.

The ship is perfectly still, reminding me of the calm before the storm. Except I know calms before storms well, and nothing in the atmosphere signals a tempest. In fact, the atmosphere is as quiet as the ship.

Riley combs his finger through my hair. “You did it. You were in control.”

“How?” I ask.

“You tell
me
. I didn’t do it.”

I sit up on my elbows and suddenly remember that I’m naked. Cold and slightly embarrassed, I reach for an extra blanket lying beside Riley’s pillows and pull it over my chest.

But Riley snatches it away. “Yeah, no. I’m still enjoying the view.”

Strange how I relax under his gaze. I smile despite myself.

He prowls up over me, his hands cupping his prizes. He massages them, giving my still-erect nipples attention as well.

“What did you do?” he asks, talking about my newfound control. “So you’ll know how to repeat it later.”

I bite my lip. What had I done? The answer seeps in, and I understand that, without Riley, I might not have figured it out. “I did you said. I set myself free.”

“The wall is gone?”

I nod. “I watched it fall.”

“So what changed?”

I study the man in front of me. The one who didn’t give up. The one who pushed and pulled me through the weeks I’ve fought my feelings for him. I’ve craved him, longed for his arms, and found ways to avoid getting close to him to protect myself and those around me. I’ve wanted him in ways I couldn’t have, because I couldn’t control my power.

But now? Now I can.

“I’m not scared anymore of what I’m capable of. I finally understand, Riley. All the fear, the pain of losing Nate, it chained me. Built that wall high so I could hide behind it.” I shake my head at my new revelation. “Hiding is for cowards. I’m ready to fight.”

“Good.”

The way he says it tells me he’s done talking. The tip of his tongue grazes my mouth in a half-circle, his breath coming faster. I can smell myself on his mouth, but I don’t care. I need his kisses, his body, his love. I need all of him.

I lower his head and kiss him like I’ve never kissed anyone. Hold him like he belongs to me, and I to him. And right now I do, because I never want him to let me go.

I circle my hands around the waistband of his jeans and undo the button. Riley finishes what I started, his pants disappearing somewhere on the floor. He pushes me up on the bed and settles between my legs. Rolls on a condom.

“You sure you can handle this?” he teases.

I puff out a breathless giggle. “Oh I’m sure. Are you sure
you
can handle
me
?”

“I’ll handle you, all right. Over and over and over.”

And then he’s inside me. Slowly rocking and beautifully consuming me. I’m lost. So utterly lost that my past falls away, leaving only the present; it’s Riley and me and the movement of our bodies, completely in sync with each other.

I bring his mouth back down to mine. Suck his lips and taste the sweetness of his need. This man. This man who broke through my walls has found me. And as he takes me with him to heights of ecstasy, I know I’ll never want to come back down alone.

A piercing pain screams inside my head, and I squeeze my eyelids tighter together. The air I breathe is fresh, the smell of the ocean carrying along the breeze. Heat from the sun burns, but the last place I remember being is inside an elaborate office—

With Cara.

Everything before that is hazy. Only pieces surface into my mind: a warehouse, a flood, blood.

I lift an eyelid to peek out, but sunlight assaults me and the pain in my head soars. I snap it shut again, and the taste of bile rises in my throat. Somewhere behind me, I make out hushed voices and echoes of footfalls. As they get closer, the sound intensifies. I try to hold back, to not move and pass out, but my body rolls to the side, keeping me conscious. My stomach clenches, and I throw up.