Challa (16 page)

A sudden idea burst into her mind, making her freeze at the possibility. What if there was no blood line because Compton was human? Because he wasn’t Ruinos?

Then how do I explain the other signs that are there? Why would he have a scent? Why would I have an orgasm? Why would he be able to have his first orgasm, too?

Why isn’t there a blood line?

Because he’s not your blood mate,
a tiny voice burred in her ear. The voice sounded just like one of the Arra, raking through her mind like claws over soft tissue.

Challa sobbed as fresh tears rolled down her face. In the morning Compton would take her to their law officers, and they would determine what punishment she would face for cutting off that man’s hand.

But until then, she had a few more hours left to share with Compton. To lie beside him,enveloped in his warmth. To be able to touch him and exchange a few more kisses come the morning. And maybe,
maybe
, make love one final time.

She reached down between her legs and touched the evidence, the wetness and slight soreness. Yes, at least once more. They had to, because she had every belief that once he took her away from this haven, she would never be able to be with him again.

Chapter 18

Separation

Soft kisses tickled her neck. A warm breath brushed over her skin, and Compton licked her collarbone.

“Sweet Jesus, you even taste like honeysuckle!”

At some point during the night she had cried herself to sleep, and slept soundly until he awakened her. Opening her eyes, Challa saw his ear and the back of his head as he continued to work his mouth over her.

Her body responded to his gentleness. Her breasts came alive, and she started to ask him to cradle them when his hand moved on its own to cup her. Calloused fingers tweaked her nipple, and her need blossomed aching and wet between her legs.

“Mmm. I can’t believe how great you smell.”

He kneed her legs apart and fitted himself snugly against her mound. When he rubbed the head of his engorged member between her inner lips, the rough, scarred skin seared her clits. Challa clutched him with razored talons and shoved her abdomen against his groin. She tried to call out his name, but her brain blanked out as he continued to tease her with his hand, his mouth, and his erection. Nudging her entrance, but not yet penetrating. Teasing, whetting her appetite and his with love play.

His tongue, rough and wet, circled underneath her chin. “Watch those hands, honey.”

“Sorry.” She wasn’t used to making love, much less having this kind of contact with another person. Especially as her true self. Challa glanced down at him. “Want me to be human again?”

“Please?”

It wasn’t her Ruinos self he was afraid of. It was her sharp blades, and what she might accidentally do in the throes of sex.

Outside the sun was just starting to break above the trees. Challa changed as she felt her skin beginning to tighten, molding itself into permanent shape as the sun’s rays locked her into her human form for the day.

Compton tugged lightly on her hair, drawing her attention back to him. His eyes were filled with passion. And love. There was no way she could mistake the love.

“Make me a man again, Challa,” he whispered in a voice as sinfully sexy as the acts he was performing on her.

Rather than answer, she reached for his buttocks and pressed down. Compton sank deep into her with one thrust. The sensation of being suddenly and totally filled left her gasping for breath. But when he began to pull out of her, she struggled to have him back inside. She had to have him pressing as deeply and as far into her as was humanly possible. Scraping over her fragile inner tissue with his erection that was as rough as having sandpaper shoved within her weeping channel.

Compton pumped her again, moaning her name like a prayer. He shifted his position slightly then rolled onto his back, dragging her almost effortlessly with him, until Challa found herself on top and lying against his strong chest and flat belly.

“Sit up,” he ordered softly.

She tried. By the heavens above, she tried, but the heavy pole rammed inside her was doing wonderful and wicked things to her. It was turning her mind to mush, and making her body burn out of control. Instinctively, she placed her hands against his ribs and lifted herself just enough to where his erection was partway out. Compton immediately countered with a thrust of his hips, and her body jerked with the invasion.

“
T’kor!
”

“Ride me, Challa,” he almost growled. His hands were on her thighs, lifting her then thrusting her back down over him. She lost all sense of the present as every cell in her body focused on their joining. On the hot joy they were sharing that made their bodies shimmer with perspiration. On the perfection of making love.

He continued to guide her, pushing himself upward as he pulled her down. Shoving himself over and over into her with faster and more frantic intensity. Challa could feel her peak growing, rising, brightening like a giant white star, until it slammed into her without warning.

She screamed, but Compton continued to work her. He was grunting now with every thrust, and groaned when her contractions nearly squeezed the blood from his dick. Challa had no recollection of how long he powered into her until his body went rigid and he threw his head back with a howl. He shuddered under her, and she could feel his seed squirting inside her, hot and thick.

When he collapsed on the mattress, he also released her hips, and Challa draped herself over him, snuggling against his chest. The scent of warm oranges tinged with the equally tangy smell of lemonade filled her head.

She almost burst into tears. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. How could loving him be so perfect? And yet they weren’t life mates?

His body jerked. His hands left warm patches on her bare skin when he lifted them off of her. “What time is it?” She felt him raise his arm and heard his sigh. “It’s after seven. Gives us time for a quick shower and some breakfast.” One large hand gently brushed away the hair that had fallen over her face. “How do you feel?”

She quickly swiped at her tears. “Strange.” It was an honest answer. What she didn’t expect was for him to suddenly lift her off his chest so he could gaze into her face.

“Are you crying? Why? Did I—”

“No,” she hurried to assure him. Somehow she was able to put a smile on her face. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Compton. You’ve done everything…right.” A quick kiss was enough to convince him. A sweet kiss. A tender kiss that threatened to deepen into another passionate coupling until Compton reluctantly pulled back.

“Come on. I want to bathe you.”

He didn’t dump his artificial leg until they got to the bathroom. She started the water while he lit an old gas flame heater. Challa noticed how he watched her with an amused look on his face as she used the toilet.

“I have to pee just like you do,” she commented.

“I figured you might be built similarly, considering we just had the most fantastic sex in the world.” He chuckled. He continued to watch as she pushed aside the shower curtain and stepped into the spray, wetting down herself and her hair. “Why don’t you change so I can see you bathing as an alien?”

She wiped the water from her eyes. “I can’t.”

“Huh?”

“Once the sun comes up, it locks me into whatever shape I’ve taken. I can’t change until after dark.”

“Honest?”

She shot him a look that immediately got a grin in return.

“So, when morning comes, what? Do you have to set the alarm every night just so you can wake up in time to change into your human self before sunrise?”

“Actually, I’ve managed to adapt to changing into a human just as my body senses it. Sort of. I mean, I can still be asleep, but I change anyway without having to be awake to think about it.” She glanced pointedly at his wristwatch where he’d set it on the back of the sink. “It’s not too different from waking up at the same time each morning, even if you don’t set your clock to wake you.”

“Okay. That was an honest answer.” Compton chuckled. “Move over. I’m coming in.”

The handrails made sense to her now as she watched him move with the rhythm and grace of a gymnast, shifting his weight from one hand to the other, back and forth, as he balanced on his single leg. He reached past her to snag a washcloth.

“Care to put some of that shower gel on this for me?” he asked, indicating a bottle sitting on a small shelf behind her. Challa quickly complied. “Turn around,” he ordered, and began to scrub her back and buttocks with one hand.

He moved slowly, almost provocatively, over her skin. Pushing aside her hair in order to get to her neck and shoulders. After going over her sides and hips, he bent down to do the backs of her legs. The only sounds in the bathroom were the soft hiss of the gas heater, the steady downpour from the shower, and Compton’s loud breathing.

“Okay. Now turn around.”

Challa turned to face him, and was met by the sight of his member protruding like a crooked club from his groin. She started to reach for it, but stopped herself. Instead, she looked up into his face and smiled.

“Challa, you’re too damn beautiful for your own good,” he muttered. The hand holding the soapy rag reached out to caress her breasts. Challa became aware of the foam slowly drifting downward as he continued to bathe her. “Tell me something?”

“What?”

“How is it you’re able to look human?”

“Kreesi said we can mimic almost every sentient life form. It’s something Ruinos have always been able to do. I don’t know why or how. That much was never explained to me.”

“Who’s Kreesi?”

“She…was…my teacher. She was the oldling on the ship. She taught those of us who needed to learn the ways of the Ruinos.” Challa smiled. “She’s the one who told us how we would find our life mate, and what to look for.”

“Where is Kreesi now? Is she at the carnival?” He was finished with her waist and ribs, and was bending over to do her lower extremities. “Spread your legs.”

Challa spread them as much as she was able in the narrow confines of the tub. Compton slid the rag between her legs, teasing between her lower lips, and rubbing the soapy cloth over her nubs. A shiver ran through her, and Compton smiled.

“Like that?”

“Yes.”

“If this tub wasn’t so damn hard on the knee, I’d get down and see if I could make you come with my mouth.”

The mere thought of him taking her that way was enough to send a wave of shivers trickling through her. When he took his hand away, she opened her eyes to stare at him. Instead, the washcloth was hanging an inch away from her nose.

“Now you do me,” Compton said.

She waited for him to hop around and present his back to her while she applied a bit more shower gel to the rag. Instead of starting with his back, she kneeled down and began with his foot and calf.

“Challa, you said a woman named Kreesi was your teacher?”

“Yes.”

“What about your parents? Were they with you?”

She started to answer when Compton gave a bark of laughter.

“Sorry, honey. There’s so many questions I want to ask you. A
lot
of questions
.
Hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” she honestly replied. “My parents are dead. They died on the ship.”

“On the escape ship?”

“No. On the slave ship.”

She loved the way his buttocks clenched when she washed them. He moved, and she glanced up to see him peering down at her. “Can I ask how they died?” he softly said.

“They were tortured.”

At those words, memories rose up like a thick cloud of dust. The screaming. The blood.
Heavens give me mercy
. There was so much blood the smell remained on her for days afterward. Challa was unaware of her reaction until warm, wet fingers lightly touched her forehead.

“Hey. I’m sorry. Look, we’ll talk about it later, okay? When you’re able to tell me more.”

Nodding slightly, Challa sniffed and got to her feet to work on his back and arms. She noticed there were many small scars and signs of older wounds. Compton bent his head to let her wash his neck.

“You were hurt, too.”

“Yeah. When they pulled me out of what was left of the Humvee, the paramedics originally gave me less than a twenty percent chance of survival.”

“Why did you go to war, Compton? Why would you put yourself in that kind of danger?”

She paused in her ministrations. Compton obligingly turned around to let her wash his front. Amazingly, his erection never flagged. He saw her staring at it and blushed.

“I guess Old Glory is trying to make up for lost time.”

Challa gave him a puzzled look. This time Compton chuckled.

“Men like to name their dicks. I call mine Old Glory. No big deal.”

“You are a strange man, Compton Scott.” She laughed. “Now answer my question. Why would you deliberately go somewhere where you could be killed?”

“It’s…it’s a long story. The
Reader’s Digest
version is this. I was a nerd all my years in school. I was fat. The stereotypical outcast with braces and zits. The whole works. I had few friends and
nada
girlfriends. The other kids at school called me names like ‘in-
Comp
-etent’ and ‘nin-
Comp
-poop’. I hated the idea of going to college and taking another four or five years of name calling. So after I gave it one semester to please my mom, I decided to enlist in the Army.”