Parallel Heat (11 page)

She sighed softly, her head bowing beneath his touch.

 
How was it possible to feel someone setting you on fire, and yet become drowsy and serene all at once? Somehow that was precisely what Marco’s gentle touch was doing to Thea’s body. She was awash with desire for him—it was spiraling crazily, but she didn’t understand exactly what was happening to her, not at all. And she was so very tired . . . needed to sleep
. Had to.
So she decided to lie down, only for a moment, and curled up on her side.

‘‘I’m just going to close my eyes a minute,’’ she said, nestling her head into his soft pillow.

‘‘Sure,’’ he breathed in the darkness, and she felt him settle beside her in the small bed. Her back was to him, and yet she was keenly aware of his warm body only a few inches behind hers. She wished he’d touch her some more, hold her, but the urge to sleep was just too overpowering.

Marco exhaled heavily as Thea’s breathing changed, becoming soft and even. He should never have touched her like this, and it was damn sure that he should never have used his intuition to ease her burdens. It had wiped her out completely, and now he was stuck in an agonizing—and potentially compromising—situation. She was asleep in his bed, and all he had on were his boxers and a T-shirt. And the evidence of how powerfully she’d aroused him was pressing urgently against his soft cotton underwear. If she were to move any closer, she’d feel his rock-hard erection. Carefully, he snaked his hips a bit farther back from her, and sighed as he collapsed heavily against their shared pillow.

This was sheer agony, lying beside Thea in his bed like this, her muscular legs nearly grazing against his. Her thick, luminous hair spilled across his pillow, tickling his nose, and her scent was unbelievable—dancing across all his senses, awakening something in him. Closing his eyes, he tried to still his body’s reaction to her. He knew he couldn’t act on this insane attraction. As one of her protectors, his behavior was completely inappropriate. But that did nothing to ease his body’s awakened reaction to the woman.

And yet he couldn’t. He absolutely
couldn’t
break away from what he’d begun.

It wasn’t that the Madjin weren’t allowed involvements, but rather that unions were discouraged, silently frowned upon, because the heart had a way of encumbering fast decisions. That’s what made this attraction to Thea so potentially lethal.

Her hair spilled across his pillow like spun gold, and he ached to run his hands all through it, just to know what it would feel like beneath his fingertips. Marco deliberated for a long moment, then very gingerly took a silken lock within his hand. He closed his eyes, feeling it beneath his fingertips, wishing this attraction could actually lead somewhere. He drew the lock to his lips, kissing the end softly, and prayed to All that he could be strong enough to let her go.

Suddenly, Thea stirred a bit, and rolled to face him in her sleep until she lay only a breath away from him. Her lips were close enough to kiss, and her thigh was dangerously near his erection.

He closed his eyes because he could hardly breathe, and yet panted heavily at the same time. He’d never been this close to any woman—not like this, in his bed, wearing only his boxers. Sure, he’d kissed a few girls when he was younger, but he’d never let anyone very close for fear of exposure, the threat of their knowing he wasn’t human. He’d certainly never invited any of them into his bed. He was everything he’d claimed to be—a virgin, unmated and untouched on a genuinely intimate level. But he knew it wasn’t just having a woman in such intimate proximity; it was Thea, pure and simple. Somehow they were connected, and deeply.

Marco exhaled heavily, his eyes fluttering open, and found Thea staring at him. His heartbeat sped up—not just out of desire, but because she left him feeling horridly exposed
. Found out
. And yet she kept on staring at him wordlessly in the darkness, the only sound between them their own breathing. Moonlight spilled through the window beside the bed, playing across her features, and Marco glimpsed raw, unabashed desire reflected in her blue eyes. A throaty sigh escaped her lips as she licked them slowly—and that one gesture was his undoing.

He bent closer to her, kissing her very tentatively, waiting for her to shove him away. Instead, her lips parted softly, and she returned the kiss with surprising passion. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging his head closer, welcoming him into her arms. So, he deepened the kiss roughly, and their tongues began to slowly entwine. It was the sweetest taste he’d ever known, and he closed his eyes, savoring it. He slipped his hands around her small waist, drawing her closer up against him as he took her mouth with another hungry kiss. Their tongues began an erotic dance, flicking together uncontrollably, and in response his whole body grew warmer as he felt some kind of unusual energy building inside himself.

He’d never kissed a fellow Refarian before, only humans, and this was decidedly different.
Thea
was different, and she affected him unbelievably.

He had to stop.
Had to
. They were fellow soldiers fighting in the same war; she was of a royal bloodline, and he . . . wasn’t. But instead, he deepened the kiss, brushing his fingers through her hair, wedging her more tightly against him. She pushed her small hips up against his, and he moaned softly at the intimate contact. There was no way she hadn’t felt his arousal—and his cheeks flushed deeply at the knowledge. He grasped her hips hard within his palms, fitting her against him, no longer caring what she felt. Hell, he wanted her to feel his erection, to know how turned on she’d made him. As her compact body fit snugly against his much larger one, she gasped, squirming against him in a sudden effort to pull away. But he kept her fixed against him with both hands, wanting her more than he had ever wanted anyone or anything in all his damnable life.

‘‘Marco,’’ she panted, clutching at him, even as she tried to get away. ‘‘We have to stop. We’ve got to.’’

He groaned, burying his face against her neck. ‘‘I know. I know.’’ So much for his long-held virginity, he thought ruefully. This one woman could strip him of every illusion he’d fought so hard to maintain; his orderly life, his Madjin’s discipline. Never before had he realized how fragile and tentative his self-possession could truly be.

Slowly, finger by finger, he eased his grip on her waist, gasping for every breath he drew into his lungs. ‘‘Bad idea, this,’’ he groaned, nuzzling her. ‘‘Terrible, awful, ill-thought-out plan.’’

She rubbed her fingertips through the curling hair at the base of his neck. ‘‘Not really,’’ she whispered, then, laughing, added, ‘‘Well, at least we know those visions weren’t crazy. Not after this.’’

He pulled back so he could stare into her blue, ethereal eyes. ‘‘I’ve never wanted anyone so damned bad in my life, Thea,’’ he told her frankly. ‘‘Visions or no, you turn me fucking on.’’

She smiled, cupping his face. ‘‘Too bad you’re a monk.’’

Drawing in ragged, panting breaths, he managed, ‘‘Already told you . . . I’m no saint, but you’re my protected.’’ He groaned, shaking his head. He had crossed the line in a way he’d never imagined—and on his first night coming under Jared Bennett’s leadership. What the hell had he been thinking? He closed his eyes, saying, ‘‘It’s an untenable situation. I want this—you, but I have a duty to perform.’’

She released her hold on him, slowly sitting up in bed. ‘‘And so do I,’’ she agreed quietly. ‘‘We’ve got to work together in a few hours, so it’s best we put all of this’’— she waved her hand between them significantly—‘‘behind us from now on.’’

‘‘Absolutely. Agreed.’’ His voice sounded thick and emotion-filled, even to his own ears.

She stood, smoothing out the front of her uniform, all soldier now—the passionate woman of a moment ago quickly vanishing beneath her facade of order and precision. ‘‘I look forward to it,’’ she told him with a brisk nod, and headed toward his bedroom door.

Only after she was gone did he collapse onto his back with a groan of such pent-up need and frustration that he felt his body might explode.
Holy hell, I’m the last Refarian virgin,
he thought with a growl. It was a fact that had bothered him over the years, but it had always been a necessity. Suddenly his responsibilities and vows seemed an unbearable sacrifice—now that he knew what it might be to hold Thea Haven in his arms once and for all.

 
Jared found Kelsey sound asleep, twined in his thick comforter and sheets. It was pushing five a.m., and on her body clock, still very early for a human. He dropped onto the side of their bed, watching her sleep. Many decisions had been made tonight; many revelations had occurred. Yet again, everything had changed for the two of them, just as it had changed for his people.

Drowsily she stirred, eyeing him. ‘‘You’re back.’’ She rubbed her eyes.

He bent to kiss her forehead. ‘‘Yes, love.’’

‘‘You’re not going to make me go back to Laramie now, are you?’’

With a smile, he buried his face in her mass of curls. ‘‘No, sweet Kelsey—you aren’t going anywhere.’’

‘‘Good,’’ she said wickedly, wrapping her arms about him. He lay there, drinking her in, wishing that his body were still rocked with desperate tremors. Wishing that he didn’t possess such a strange, finicky bloodline that left him fertile for only a brief window of time.

Kelsey ran her hands through his hair, stroking his upper back, kissing his bristling cheek. She thought he was still mad with mating fever, and he did desire her desperately, that was true. His heart and soul and being longed for her, but with the heavy revelations and burdens that had come, something had stilled inside of him tonight. He’d snapped back into his harsh reality, been reminded of what he’d always known: that leaders’ hearts came last in matters of love. The war and its concerns had to come first, even above family and mating and heirs. Jared closed his eyes, groaning softly in her arms at the excruciating realization of what had changed between them in just a few hours’ time. She giggled, lifting her hips against him, interpreting his groans as lusty need, but what Kelsey couldn’t possibly know—what
he
couldn’t possibly explain—was that already, somehow, the heat in his body had begun to cool.

His first mating season was ending before it had even truly begun.

Chapter Seven

Marco mounted the interior steps to the Jackson apartment he’d shared with Sabrina and Riley for the past two years, in a three-story boardinghouse where anonymity reigned. It was the longest he’d ever lived in any one place after a near lifetime of nomadic movement. First from Refaria to Earth when he was eight years old, then zigzagging across the US for the past twenty years: Santa Fe, New Mexico, as a boy; Portland, Oregon, when he was twelve; Jacksonville, Florida, when he was nineteen; Moscow, Idaho, when he was twenty-one. It had been a roundabout, hardscrabble existence, and he could click off the towns like mile markers on a two-lane.

Arriving on the narrow landing outside the apartment, Marco wrangled his keys, but Sabrina yanked open the door before he’d even turned the lock. Her eyes scanned the exterior hallway as she ushered him inside and closed the door behind him.

‘‘We gotta talk.’’ Marco pushed past her and into the living room.

‘‘Where have you been? Where’s Riley?’’ She followed behind him. ‘‘When you didn’t come home—’’

‘‘Riley’s fine, Sabrina.’’ Marco sank onto their thread-bare sofa, the single piece of furniture in the living room; like everything else in their lives, the furnishings in the apartment were minimal.

She focused her intense gaze on him. ‘‘Then tell me what happened.’’

‘‘He’s with our lord.’’ He drew in a breath, bracing for her reaction.

She gave him a blank look for a moment, the facts clearly not computing. ‘‘He’s with Jared?’’ she finally whispered in disbelief.

‘‘We spent the night at the compound after a run-in with Thea Haven and Scott Dillon. They identified us at the bar last night.’’ He dug his hands into the pockets of his parka—the apartment was never warm enough. ‘‘Jared knows everything. Trust me, it was a long damn night.’’

Sabrina stood in the center of the living room staring at him, blinking rapidly as she absorbed his revelations. She never aged or turned gray, relying instead on the shape-shifter’s prerogative—to maintain her youth. At the moment, however, her usually warm brown eyes were bloodshot and lined by dark circles, and she seemed much older than she normally did.

‘‘Does he know about me?’’ she asked in a quiet voice, unconsciously placing her hand over her heart. Jared meant everything to Sabrina, even after so many years apart from him—and that was on a personal level. He meant even more to her as the true Refarian king.

He nodded. ‘‘He sent me for you. We’re both to head for camp right away. Riley stayed there’’—he laughed in realization—‘‘I suppose as collateral. But we’ll gain Jared’s trust soon enough.’’

Her eyes drifted shut. ‘‘It’s too soon.’’ She shook her head, putting her back to him. ‘‘This is all wrong. The timing . . . all of it’s wrong.’’

‘‘You don’t think I’m ready.’’

‘‘How can you possibly be?’’

‘‘Isn’t a lifetime of training enough?’’ He sprang to his feet, following her across the room. ‘‘How long do you and the elders intend to hold me back? I am called to this—there’s nothing else I’m meant to do. I have given everything to the Circle! Everything, Sabrina. It’s time that you let me walk out my calling. I’m his protector-
their
protector—and I’m needed, now more than ever. You of all people understand that.’’

She faced him again, staring hard into his eyes. ‘‘If it’s too soon,’’ she answered, running her hand down her neat braid, ‘‘it can only lead to destruction.’’