Dream Bound (19 page)

Maybe they didn’t need to be that specific.

Whatever. She wasn’t going to worry about it now, not when her fantasy lover was back, doing some serious licking between her legs. Oh heavens ... Kiera arched her hips and the tongue scored with a circling motion around her anus, then a slow lick up to her clit that left her legs quivering and all her inner muscles clenching.

Now this was where a cock would come in handy, but a dildo would work, so she pictured one, only it was big and hard and hot—hot like a real guy—and so real in shape and size and texture that when it entered her she was sure she felt the soft press of a guy’s testicles against her ass, certain she could feel his heart beating against hers, his lips pressing along her hairline, dropping little kisses on her forehead.

Damn, if a guy could make love to her like this, with this much care and gentleness, she might even be willing to look at a man again. In fantasy, of course.

Never in real life.

She felt her climax building as the cock—whether dildo or fantasy guy didn’t matter at all right now—filled her all the way on each downward thrust and then dragged perfectly across her clit each time it withdrew.

She was rising and falling with each thrust and retreat, so lost in the fantasy that when she reached for broad shoulders, she wasn’t at all surprised to find them above her, but she kept her eyes closed. Kept the reality of her own traitorous imagination at bay.

He thrust harder and it was so perfect, so exactly the way she’d imagined sex could be but never had been that she wanted to weep as orgasm claimed her. She wrapped her legs around slim male hips, locked her heels against a truly fine butt, forgetting how much she hated and feared men, forgetting that this was merely a dildo between her legs and an imaginary one at that.

Her heels slid higher and rested at the small of his back and she clung to his broad shoulders as he took her over the edge. Her inner muscles tightened and released, then tightened again, holding him deep inside. She felt the steady jerking spurts as he joined her, his hot seed filling her, bathing her sensitive vaginal walls.

And when she opened her eyes, he was smiling back at her.

Her breath caught as he filled her vision. Perfect. He was an absolutely, perfectly beautiful man. Beautiful, big, and so very male. The real shock came when she realized she wasn’t even surprised to see that her fantasy was a man. Wasn’t surprised at the solid feel to him, the details she’d not consciously added to the dream. The tightly curled pubic hair against her mons was scratchy and coarse, as was the hair on his thighs, so much so that it abraded her sensitive skin.

His eyes were dark with tiny flecks of gold, and his skin was a deep, rich, bittersweet chocolate. That surprised her, because two of the three men in her life had been white while the one she’d married—the one she’d gotten the restraining order against—had been Asian.

She was proud of her African-American heritage, but for some reason, she’d never dated a man like herself. Maybe that was her problem. For whatever reason, she’d fantasized a lover who was even darker than she was, but damn, he was absolutely perfect—even if he was male.

The final stirrings of her climax faded, and Kiera climbed out of her fantasy long enough to wonder how much longer her shift would last, because now that she’d gotten the hang of it, she wondered if four-hour shifts would be enough time.

She blinked as reality intruded, fully expecting the fantasy to disappear, but the man of her dreams merely lifted himself away from her and she actually heard the wet, sucking sound as he pulled his heavily engorged penis from her wet vagina with her nether lips still swollen with arousal.

She was blinking like an idiot when he leaned close and kissed her. His lips were full and soft; the smile he gave her enough to melt bones—or even the most dedicated man-hater around.

He touched the side of her face, his fingers gently caressing her cheek. “I must go,” he said. He kissed her mouth and she groaned softly. His lips were so sweet, so soft and warm that she could have kissed him forever. “It’s difficult during daylight, but I was incapable of ignoring your passionate summons. Be ready for me. I will come to you in darkness.”

Then he stepped away without another word and began to glow. His body dissolved into a mass of sparkling lights, swirling faster and faster until he was a dazzling blue flame that blazed brilliantly and, as if he’d never existed at all, disappeared.

Kiera fell back against the recliner. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest and she was afraid she was going to hyperventilate and pass out, but her mind was spinning so fast she couldn’t seem to make sense of any of this. “What the fuck just happened?”

She glanced down at her yoga pants. “Holy shit.” They lay partially on the floor, hanging from her left foot by the waistband. She was practically naked, but she couldn’t remember anyone taking her pants off. They’d just disappeared in her fantasy—they weren’t there at all.

Hands shaking, she leaned over and grabbed the waistband, untangled the legs, and tugged her pants up. Just before she pulled them over her hips, she noticed the creamy drops of fluid between her legs.

Semen? Impossible. She grabbed a tissue out of a box on the console and quickly cleaned herself, fully aware that she was hyperventilating again. That might have been an imaginary lover, but this was not imaginary sperm. Thank goodness for the birth-control implants Mac had insisted upon, but what about STDs?

Oh shit. This was so not happening. Who the hell was that guy? Didn’t Mac say they had to picture someone in their fantasies to give those aliens a body? She had most definitely not pictured a big, sexy, black god between her thighs. No. Not even close, so who or what the fuck just screwed her silly?

She wadded up the tissue and threw it into the wastebasket. Then she wondered if Mac had a lab here. Was he set up to do DNA testing? Good lord, the dream shack smelled of sex and man and what the hell time was it, anyway?

She stared at the clock built into the console. Closed her eyes and looked again. “That can’t be right.” It was almost four. How could that be? She’d looked just a few minutes ago and it hadn’t even been one o’clock, but according to the time, her shift was almost over. Morgan should be here to relieve her in about ten minutes, but where had the past three hours gone?

Kiera flopped back against the soft recliner and stared at the patch of sky overhead. There was no avoiding the truth. She’d just had the best sex in her life with an alien. A male alien.

A creature from another planet. “No way. Absolutely no frickin’ way.”

She was still staring at the patch of blue sky when Morgan tapped lightly on the door and walked into the dream shack. Kiera took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. She carefully slipped the cap with the sensors off her head and put it away. Should she tell Morgan what had happened? She had to tell Mac, but was she ready to tell another guy about such a personal, intimate encounter?

No. Not yet. Let him find out on his own. Right now she needed to find Rodie for some very important girl talk, like what the fuck had just happened? But she also needed a cold alcoholic drink—or three or four. Not necessarily in that order.

“How’d it go?” Morgan stepped aside so Kiera could get out of the chair.

“It was ...” She paused and shrugged. Tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. “Interesting. Definitely interesting.”

Morgan stared at her for what felt like a very long time. She managed to hold her smile and keep her thoughts blocked. At least she thought her shields were up. She sure as hell hoped so.

“Why does that leave me with more questions than answers?”

Kiera just laughed and then stepped back while he settled himself into the recliner. He carefully stretched the cap with the sensors over his dark hair. “I think it’s something we all have to experience for ourselves,” she said. Then she winked.

Morgan gave her an enigmatic smile that left her rattled. “For what it’s worth,” he said, adjusting the chair to fit his long legs, “Rodie and Cam both connected with Nyrians last night. You probably heard about Rodie, but I don’t know if you were aware that Cam made contact, too. Lizzie wasn’t so sure, and Finn’s visit was questionable.” He smiled at her, as if she could tell him anything. Anything at all.

No way. Not yet. She was still too rattled, still feeling tiny contractions deep inside her pussy from that amazing sex.

Morgan shrugged. “I was just wondering if you’d seen anything, had any kind of contact. Just so I’d know what to expect.” He raised one dark eyebrow.

Kiera swallowed. “You might say that,” she said, fully aware she was edging toward the door. “I think I can say it was more along the definitely contacted than the questionable. I, uh, need to go talk to Mac.”

Morgan laughed. “You’re not going to tell me anything at all, are you?”

She flashed him a big grin. “My lips are sealed. For now. Enjoy!” Then she spun away and slipped out the door before Morgan could ask her anything else.

Oh shit. She wasn’t the only one. She knew about Rodie, but not Finn or Cameron. She really wanted to talk to Rodie, to compare notes, but she probably needed to talk to Mac first.

“No. What I really need is a drink.” She glanced overhead, at the blue sky and the few wisps of cloud. They were up there. Aliens. In a spaceship, high above the earth.

And she’d just had sex with one of them.

Amazing sex. Only she wasn’t sure what was most shocking—the fact that her lover had been an alien, or that the sex was the best she’d ever had, or that her lover had been male.

Kiera headed straight for the lodge in search of that drink. She’d feel more like talking after she’d knocked back a couple of whatever the bar offered.

Morgan stared at the door long after Kiera had shut it behind her. He’d not been able to glean a thing from her thoughts, which meant she’d figured out how to shield her mind.

Finally, he settled into the recliner and checked the fit of his cap with the sensors. Felt like everything was okay.

So what now? He was the last of the six to take up a position here in the dream shack, and as much as he shouldn’t have been surprised, the first thing he’d noticed when he walked into the place was the rich, ripe smell of sex.

He chuckled, wondering if he was about to add to it. At least it should be pretty dark by the time he left the dream shack, so if he did “pull a Finn,” as he and Cam were already calling Finn’s little episode, at least the wet spot shouldn’t be all that noticeable.

“Okay. Enough time wasted.” He’d checked his cap with the sensors, gotten the chair adjusted so that he was entirely comfortable, stared out the skylight, and then stared at the control console. Fantasize. Sure. He could do that, except he’d never had to do it on command.

Shit. It wasn’t as easy as he’d thought. He scrunched his butt down in the chair and tried closing his eyes.

Rodie immediately came to mind.

What was it about that chick? She was just an average girl. Nice smile, straight teeth, lots of curly dark hair and a wicked sense of humor, but he couldn’t get her out of his mind.

Okay. He’d keep her in his head and use Rodie as his fantasy subject, but then he wondered if that meant that whatever Nyrian might check in with him would end up looking like Rodie.

Now that could be confusing.

Easing back into the chair, he started at the beginning, slowly peeling her clothes away, exposing the hot little body he knew was hiding under the sloppy sweats and old jeans she seemed to favor. She had a solid build, but he liked that. A lot. He’d never been into the really skinny, anorexic types.

He pictured long legs, but muscular. He was sure she’d be well muscled, and he liked that in a woman. Solid thighs, a firm butt, and a flat stomach with a bit of a washboard look. She struck him as a woman who took care of herself, who liked being physically strong. He could work with that.

Mentally, he helped her take off her sweatshirt and, sure enough, she was wearing a sports bra underneath. Those damned things looked more like torture devices, but they kept everything in place. It wasn’t easy to get it off her, but that was part of the fun.

He decided to go the macho route and pictured a sharp knife, more like a dagger, that he slipped beneath the tight band under her boobs. He cut through the stretchy fabric like he was cutting through butter, running the blade slowly up between her breasts.

The stretchy cups gaped to each side, so he set the knife down and pushed the material away from her breasts. Her tits weren’t real big, but they were perfectly shaped and the same sun-kissed color as the rest of her. Barely a handful. He wondered why she even bothered with the bra in the first place.

Then he realized he hadn’t fantasized Rodie saying a word during the entire procedure, and there was no way in hell that would ever happen. He could just imagine her outrage if he were to cut a bra off her.

Maybe keeping her quiet was a good thing. Chuckling at the convoluted directions his mind kept taking, he went back to her breasts. Her skin was darker than he’d expected, not really black or brown, not olive, either. More as if she’d gotten a really good tan, though he didn’t picture Rodie spending time topless in the sun, or hanging out in a tanning booth.

Then he pulled out of the fantasy and wondered if this was really the color of her skin, if he’d gotten close to the real thing at all in his imagination. And as soon as he thought of that, he realized he wanted to find out. As soon as possible.

So he went back to the fantasy, peeling the bra entirely off her shoulders, then unbuttoning her jeans and shoving them down her hips. She kicked off her sandals and lifted her legs, one at a time, so he could slip the pants off her.

He sat back and studied her, enjoying the sleek strength of her body, the sexy line of her black bikini underwear. They curved up high on her thighs and the waistband sat just below her navel. He hadn’t really thought of what kind of underwear she’d have on, but he hadn’t pictured her as a thong kind of girl.