Authors: Marilyn Campbell
Topaz Dreams (17 page)
After tiptoeing into the
house, she found him a pillow and blanket and retired to her room. She
was positive she would never sleep after everything that had happened,
but her head met the pillow and exhaustion drove her straight to
dreamland.
Falcon tried every possible position, but it was
impossible. The couch was too short, he could not sleep fully dressed,
the lenses had been in his eyes so long the drops no longer helped, and
he had too much on his mind. Since he sensed Steve was asleep, he went
into the bathroom, removed the lenses, and cleaned them. He desperately
needed to leave them out of his eyes for a few hours. Deciding the
blanket was cover enough, he shed his clothing. Both the lenses and his
clothes could be replaced in time if he made a point of programming
himself to arise as soon as the first person, probably the boy, began
to stir—if he ever fell asleep at all.
By propping the pillow under
his neck and resting his head on the cushioned arm of the sofa, he was
able to extend his legs fully. If only he could cleanse his mind as
easily as the lenses, the last obstacle between him and Morpheus would
be removed.
His thoughts were not exactly unclean. They were just
tormented with images of a small scrap of white satin—a fabric that
took second place to the delicate softness of Steve's skin. And he had
touched so much of it. With no effort he recalled the tangy fragrance
that was Steve's alone, and the salty-sweet taste of her tongue. How
close he had come to discovering the ultimate human pleasure when they
had been on the houseboat after the fight. He had meant to protect
rather than hurt her by refusing to answer her questions. At that time
he had had no way of foretelling that she would discover some of his
secrets anyway.
Falcon tried not to dwell on how differently things
might have been between them had he known that she would accept a story
as unusual as his being a time traveler. But even if he had thought of
that lie instead of her, he would not have expected her to believe it.
And now that his secrets were no longer a barrier, he had promised not to seduce her.
Would
once have been enough? Or, after his first release within her body's
grasp, would he have needed to repeat the experience over and over
again, until he had made up for countless years of abstinence?
If he
had been uncomfortable before, his present state was bordering torture.
The harder he tried not to think about her, the harder he became. He
could not stop himself from imagining what it would be like to be
completely enveloped by Steve.
Steve's dream mechanism shifted into
high gear. Falcon had appeared fleetingly in another dream, on another
night, but its content had been forgotten upon awakening. Tonight's
dream was so much better. They were back on the houseboat, lying
together, kissing, touching. This time she did not stop him or get up
and leave. This time she wore nothing at all.
He moved over her,
positioning himself between her spread thighs. With one long, slow
drive, he entered her body. The low simmer of sensation flared into
frenzied need. She could feel him throbbing, holding back. Didn't he
understand? She didn't want him to hold back. Her body was ready,
waiting breathlessly to be carried over the edge of the rainbow. She
opened her eyes to convey her urgent need. Two flames of golden fire
leapt from his eyes to hers, blinding and burning her in a climactic
burst of passion.
Steve bolted upright, her chest pounding
furiously. There was no man in her room. It had been a dream. Her
nightgown was bunched up around her waist, her inner thighs were damp
and sticky, and her body trembled. She had never experienced a dream so
intense, so erotic ... so real.
She got up from bed and walked down
the hall. She had to assure herself that Falcon was asleep on the
couch. In the darkness she could make out his form. His breathing was
strained, erratic, as if he was struggling for air.
Not certain if
he was ill or having a nightmare, Steve stepped cautiously toward the
couch. "Falcon?" Then her own breath became a strangled gasp that
exited in a frightened whimper. It was Falcon. And it wasn't. It was a
being with inhuman eyes— glittering, golden eyes with black,
marquis-diamond pupils that reflected her face like twin mirrors.
Falcon
jumped up and grasped her upper arms. Steve's eyes had adjusted well
enough to see that he was naked and aroused, and her fear escalated to
terror when he touched her.
"Please. My children. My mother."
He
gave her a rough shake. "Stop it! Stop the fear, Steve. There is
nothing to be afraid of." He tried to pull her into his embrace to
comfort her, but it only frightened her more, and when she began
struggling in earnest, he gentled his hold without releasing her. Holy
stars! Her fear was directed at him! "Tell me. What has frightened you?"
Steve was confused. He sounded the same, he felt the same ...
"Your eyes. My God, Falcon. What are you?"
What am I? He could not think past her paralyzing fear. He raised one hand to her temple.
Steve
pulled her head away. "No! Don't touch me!" Her voice was a frantic
whisper, torn between a desire to scream and a prayer that her family
would not awaken and leave the safety of their rooms.
Falcon would
not relinquish his hold. He was desperate to reach beyond her fear.
"Steve. It is me. Falcon. I have never hurt you, have I? Think! Let go
of the fear and think. I have kept my eyes masked only because they are
different. I could not afford to call attention to myself. I am still
the same person you have been with all week." He closed his eyes. "Look
at me now, Steve. What do you see?"
Calling upon her
long-established courage, she lifted her head. As long as she could not
see his catlike eyes, she could tell herself he was Falcon. Her terror
subsided, leaving her shaking in its wake. Steve raised one trembling
hand to his cheek. Her fingertips confirmed his identity. "I don't
understand," she murmured quietly.
Falcon took a slow, deep breath.
Perhaps the Noronian code of honesty was the best policy. He found he
could not bear any more lies. "I will tell you the truth, if you are
sure you want to know it. Would you prefer that I replace my lenses
before we talk? They irritate my eyes. I removed them, thinking you
were asleep."
"I... Ill be okay now. Leave them. I just wasn't
expecting it... on top of the dream." She prepared herself for a second
look as he raised his eyelids. When she looked at his eyes this time
she was not frightened. In fact, she had to admit, his eyes were even
somewhat fascinating.
Falcon let her take as long as she needed to
get accustomed to his real appearance. He had never had anyone react to
him that way. Aster was a Terran, but when she met him, she had already
accepted the incredible fact that she had been transplanted to a
strange world in the center of her planet. All things considered, his
eyes probably seemed rather insignificant to her.
He knew Steve was
no longer afraid of him, but she was still wary. "You said you had a
dream. Was it a nightmare? Is that what brought you to me?"
Steve
slipped from his arms and turned away from him. "No, not a nightmare.
It was so real. I thought you were ... Never mind. It's not important."
Falcon
suddenly realized what had awakened her. If she had not been so
terrified, he would have smelled it immediately. The musky aroma of sex
surrounded her like a cloud. Somehow his fantasy about her must have
invaded her sleep and become her dream.
He stared at her stiffly
held back. The modest nightgown could not prevent him from seeing her
as nature had formed her. Perfect. Beautiful. Instantly, he regretted
using his talent for seeing through objects, as his body responded
against his wishes. "It was not real, but my thoughts were very
explicit. I had no idea they would affect you in your sleep."
Steve
jerked her head toward him as she absorbed his words. He gave her that
dream? Glancing at his condition, she immediately turned around again.
"Please cover yourself. Then I want to hear the truth."
Sitting on the couch, he drew the blanket over his lower half. "Please sit with me."
After
making sure he had done as she asked, she sat gingerly on the opposite
end of the sofa. She was getting used to his strange eyes, but she had
lingering doubts about the rest of him.
"Steve. Come closer."
"No. I can hear you from here."
"Halfway
then. Close enough to hold my hand." She did not move. "I will talk
when I have your hand." It was a way of keeping her there until she had
heard everything and accepted it. He longed for the contact. When she
scooted only the minimal distance required to place her hand within his
reach, he knew he was right for insisting.
"You're not a time traveler, are you?" Steve stated to get him started.
"No.
I am a tracker, not so different from you. I come from Innerworld,
where a thousand people died and a female vanished due to Gordon
Underwood's criminal behavior. He stole a ring like the one I wear, and
my assignment is to retrieve it before he causes more damage."
Steve
listened intently, without interruption, as he told her of the world in
the inner core of the Earth, of the doorways, and accidental
transplants of Outerworlders. He spoke warmly of Aster, a female
Terran, like herself, who recently joined with his friend, Romulus, who
was the governor of Innerworld; how Aster had been his guide on two
brief visits to Outerworld, and why they had needed to come out.
It
was as if he had been storing up conversation all week, and it all came
out at once. He finished by detailing the events that led up to his
present mission. At least now she understood why Underwood needed
Nesterman's assistance.
"I don't know what to say," Steve said with
a shrug of her shoulders. "I shouldn't believe anything so outlandish,
but I do. Are you doing something to my mind to make me believe you?"
she asked suspiciously.
He squeezed her hand once. "No. Only if I touch your temple, can I plant information in your mind. I have told you the truth."
"Can you read my mind?" Steve frowned at the idea.
"By
the same method, yes. Except with you, when your emotions are
exceptionally strong, I discovered I can pick up an occasional word,
without touching you.
"What do you mean, 'except with me'? When did you discover this?"
Falcon
saw no reason to keep the rest of it from her and explained his
empathic powers and the gifts he'd always had. He revealed how his
talents had expanded slightly in the last few months in Innerworld, but
that powerful new abilities had abruptly come to him in the short time
they had been together.
Steve was so pleased that he was finally
talking openly to her, she did not allow herself to judge the content
of his statements too harshly. "In other words, you're going through a
kind of mental change-of-life."
The analogy made Falcon grimace. He
needed to tell her all of it. "It is physical, also. My strength has
increased, and there has been another change which I will tell you
about, so that you can understand some of what has happened between us.
As an empath, I never experienced emotions of my own. Shortly before we
met, my emotional side began developing unexpectedly. Contact with you
stimulated the growth that much faster."
"Contact with me? What did I do?"
This
time he gave her a broad smile. "What did you do? For me, it seems,
your very existence threw me into a state of frustrated confusion." He
turned her hand over and traced the outline of her thumb and fingers,
drew a circle on her palm, then repeated the pattern.
Steve felt the
goose bumps rise on her arm in response to his absent-minded caress,
but rather than pull her hand away, her fingers flexed to give him
better access to the sensitive skin between.
"The first time I saw
you, I desired you. I do not expect you to comprehend my reasoning
completely, but I believed giving in to desire would result in the loss
of some or all of my gifts. I thought I was being forced to make a
choice between my mental abilities and emotions. Yesterday I finally
realized my powers have increased in a vein parallel to my emotions.
She felt her cheeks grow hot and had to look away from him. "So that was why—?"
"I
quit fighting my attraction to you," he finished. "You are nervous now.
There is no reason to be. I will not break my promise." But he did not
stop his sensuous stroking of her palm.
"I still don't get it. Why
would making love to me be different from any other woman you've been
with? They do have sex in Innerworld, don't they?"
Falcon laughed.
"Yes, Steve, they have sex. In fact, they are much more casual about
that physical activity than your people seem to be. But, as an empath,
I had no personal knowledge of desire, until recently. What makes you
different is that you are the first woman I desired."
"But surely .
. . You're shaking your head. You can't mean I would have been the
first?" He nodded. How ridiculous! This had to be the greatest come-on
line she had ever heard. A man that looked like him should have had
hundreds of conquests by his age. The whole concept of a grown man
being a virgin was completely alien to her.
She tensed with
comprehension. Falcon stilled his hand. "There's one question you
haven't answered yet. What are you, Falcon?" When he did not answer,
she prodded, "Are you human, or something else? Your eyes are so
different." Her fear returned. "Oh, God. You even asked if you seemed
human to me." She tried to pull her hand back, but he held it tighter.
"Let me go."
"Please let me explain. I said I will tell you the
truth, and you have not given me an opportunity to respond. I am half
human. My father was a human, from the planet Norona. My mother is
felan, from the planet Emiron. I inherited my gifts from her; my
appearance, with the exception of my eyes, from him. Therefore, I am
human and something else." He did not want to know what she was
feeling, but he could not stop it from coming to him. Her hand had
become cold and clammy, and she swallowed several times, as if
attempting to control a rebellious stomach. He only wanted her to know
about him so she would not be frightened. Instead, she was repulsed by
him. There was no comfort he could offer her when he was suddenly in
urgent need of it himself. He opened his hand and let her pull away.
house, she found him a pillow and blanket and retired to her room. She
was positive she would never sleep after everything that had happened,
but her head met the pillow and exhaustion drove her straight to
dreamland.
Falcon tried every possible position, but it was
impossible. The couch was too short, he could not sleep fully dressed,
the lenses had been in his eyes so long the drops no longer helped, and
he had too much on his mind. Since he sensed Steve was asleep, he went
into the bathroom, removed the lenses, and cleaned them. He desperately
needed to leave them out of his eyes for a few hours. Deciding the
blanket was cover enough, he shed his clothing. Both the lenses and his
clothes could be replaced in time if he made a point of programming
himself to arise as soon as the first person, probably the boy, began
to stir—if he ever fell asleep at all.
By propping the pillow under
his neck and resting his head on the cushioned arm of the sofa, he was
able to extend his legs fully. If only he could cleanse his mind as
easily as the lenses, the last obstacle between him and Morpheus would
be removed.
His thoughts were not exactly unclean. They were just
tormented with images of a small scrap of white satin—a fabric that
took second place to the delicate softness of Steve's skin. And he had
touched so much of it. With no effort he recalled the tangy fragrance
that was Steve's alone, and the salty-sweet taste of her tongue. How
close he had come to discovering the ultimate human pleasure when they
had been on the houseboat after the fight. He had meant to protect
rather than hurt her by refusing to answer her questions. At that time
he had had no way of foretelling that she would discover some of his
secrets anyway.
Falcon tried not to dwell on how differently things
might have been between them had he known that she would accept a story
as unusual as his being a time traveler. But even if he had thought of
that lie instead of her, he would not have expected her to believe it.
And now that his secrets were no longer a barrier, he had promised not to seduce her.
Would
once have been enough? Or, after his first release within her body's
grasp, would he have needed to repeat the experience over and over
again, until he had made up for countless years of abstinence?
If he
had been uncomfortable before, his present state was bordering torture.
The harder he tried not to think about her, the harder he became. He
could not stop himself from imagining what it would be like to be
completely enveloped by Steve.
Steve's dream mechanism shifted into
high gear. Falcon had appeared fleetingly in another dream, on another
night, but its content had been forgotten upon awakening. Tonight's
dream was so much better. They were back on the houseboat, lying
together, kissing, touching. This time she did not stop him or get up
and leave. This time she wore nothing at all.
He moved over her,
positioning himself between her spread thighs. With one long, slow
drive, he entered her body. The low simmer of sensation flared into
frenzied need. She could feel him throbbing, holding back. Didn't he
understand? She didn't want him to hold back. Her body was ready,
waiting breathlessly to be carried over the edge of the rainbow. She
opened her eyes to convey her urgent need. Two flames of golden fire
leapt from his eyes to hers, blinding and burning her in a climactic
burst of passion.
Steve bolted upright, her chest pounding
furiously. There was no man in her room. It had been a dream. Her
nightgown was bunched up around her waist, her inner thighs were damp
and sticky, and her body trembled. She had never experienced a dream so
intense, so erotic ... so real.
She got up from bed and walked down
the hall. She had to assure herself that Falcon was asleep on the
couch. In the darkness she could make out his form. His breathing was
strained, erratic, as if he was struggling for air.
Not certain if
he was ill or having a nightmare, Steve stepped cautiously toward the
couch. "Falcon?" Then her own breath became a strangled gasp that
exited in a frightened whimper. It was Falcon. And it wasn't. It was a
being with inhuman eyes— glittering, golden eyes with black,
marquis-diamond pupils that reflected her face like twin mirrors.
Falcon
jumped up and grasped her upper arms. Steve's eyes had adjusted well
enough to see that he was naked and aroused, and her fear escalated to
terror when he touched her.
"Please. My children. My mother."
He
gave her a rough shake. "Stop it! Stop the fear, Steve. There is
nothing to be afraid of." He tried to pull her into his embrace to
comfort her, but it only frightened her more, and when she began
struggling in earnest, he gentled his hold without releasing her. Holy
stars! Her fear was directed at him! "Tell me. What has frightened you?"
Steve was confused. He sounded the same, he felt the same ...
"Your eyes. My God, Falcon. What are you?"
What am I? He could not think past her paralyzing fear. He raised one hand to her temple.
Steve
pulled her head away. "No! Don't touch me!" Her voice was a frantic
whisper, torn between a desire to scream and a prayer that her family
would not awaken and leave the safety of their rooms.
Falcon would
not relinquish his hold. He was desperate to reach beyond her fear.
"Steve. It is me. Falcon. I have never hurt you, have I? Think! Let go
of the fear and think. I have kept my eyes masked only because they are
different. I could not afford to call attention to myself. I am still
the same person you have been with all week." He closed his eyes. "Look
at me now, Steve. What do you see?"
Calling upon her
long-established courage, she lifted her head. As long as she could not
see his catlike eyes, she could tell herself he was Falcon. Her terror
subsided, leaving her shaking in its wake. Steve raised one trembling
hand to his cheek. Her fingertips confirmed his identity. "I don't
understand," she murmured quietly.
Falcon took a slow, deep breath.
Perhaps the Noronian code of honesty was the best policy. He found he
could not bear any more lies. "I will tell you the truth, if you are
sure you want to know it. Would you prefer that I replace my lenses
before we talk? They irritate my eyes. I removed them, thinking you
were asleep."
"I... Ill be okay now. Leave them. I just wasn't
expecting it... on top of the dream." She prepared herself for a second
look as he raised his eyelids. When she looked at his eyes this time
she was not frightened. In fact, she had to admit, his eyes were even
somewhat fascinating.
Falcon let her take as long as she needed to
get accustomed to his real appearance. He had never had anyone react to
him that way. Aster was a Terran, but when she met him, she had already
accepted the incredible fact that she had been transplanted to a
strange world in the center of her planet. All things considered, his
eyes probably seemed rather insignificant to her.
He knew Steve was
no longer afraid of him, but she was still wary. "You said you had a
dream. Was it a nightmare? Is that what brought you to me?"
Steve
slipped from his arms and turned away from him. "No, not a nightmare.
It was so real. I thought you were ... Never mind. It's not important."
Falcon
suddenly realized what had awakened her. If she had not been so
terrified, he would have smelled it immediately. The musky aroma of sex
surrounded her like a cloud. Somehow his fantasy about her must have
invaded her sleep and become her dream.
He stared at her stiffly
held back. The modest nightgown could not prevent him from seeing her
as nature had formed her. Perfect. Beautiful. Instantly, he regretted
using his talent for seeing through objects, as his body responded
against his wishes. "It was not real, but my thoughts were very
explicit. I had no idea they would affect you in your sleep."
Steve
jerked her head toward him as she absorbed his words. He gave her that
dream? Glancing at his condition, she immediately turned around again.
"Please cover yourself. Then I want to hear the truth."
Sitting on the couch, he drew the blanket over his lower half. "Please sit with me."
After
making sure he had done as she asked, she sat gingerly on the opposite
end of the sofa. She was getting used to his strange eyes, but she had
lingering doubts about the rest of him.
"Steve. Come closer."
"No. I can hear you from here."
"Halfway
then. Close enough to hold my hand." She did not move. "I will talk
when I have your hand." It was a way of keeping her there until she had
heard everything and accepted it. He longed for the contact. When she
scooted only the minimal distance required to place her hand within his
reach, he knew he was right for insisting.
"You're not a time traveler, are you?" Steve stated to get him started.
"No.
I am a tracker, not so different from you. I come from Innerworld,
where a thousand people died and a female vanished due to Gordon
Underwood's criminal behavior. He stole a ring like the one I wear, and
my assignment is to retrieve it before he causes more damage."
Steve
listened intently, without interruption, as he told her of the world in
the inner core of the Earth, of the doorways, and accidental
transplants of Outerworlders. He spoke warmly of Aster, a female
Terran, like herself, who recently joined with his friend, Romulus, who
was the governor of Innerworld; how Aster had been his guide on two
brief visits to Outerworld, and why they had needed to come out.
It
was as if he had been storing up conversation all week, and it all came
out at once. He finished by detailing the events that led up to his
present mission. At least now she understood why Underwood needed
Nesterman's assistance.
"I don't know what to say," Steve said with
a shrug of her shoulders. "I shouldn't believe anything so outlandish,
but I do. Are you doing something to my mind to make me believe you?"
she asked suspiciously.
He squeezed her hand once. "No. Only if I touch your temple, can I plant information in your mind. I have told you the truth."
"Can you read my mind?" Steve frowned at the idea.
"By
the same method, yes. Except with you, when your emotions are
exceptionally strong, I discovered I can pick up an occasional word,
without touching you.
"What do you mean, 'except with me'? When did you discover this?"
Falcon
saw no reason to keep the rest of it from her and explained his
empathic powers and the gifts he'd always had. He revealed how his
talents had expanded slightly in the last few months in Innerworld, but
that powerful new abilities had abruptly come to him in the short time
they had been together.
Steve was so pleased that he was finally
talking openly to her, she did not allow herself to judge the content
of his statements too harshly. "In other words, you're going through a
kind of mental change-of-life."
The analogy made Falcon grimace. He
needed to tell her all of it. "It is physical, also. My strength has
increased, and there has been another change which I will tell you
about, so that you can understand some of what has happened between us.
As an empath, I never experienced emotions of my own. Shortly before we
met, my emotional side began developing unexpectedly. Contact with you
stimulated the growth that much faster."
"Contact with me? What did I do?"
This
time he gave her a broad smile. "What did you do? For me, it seems,
your very existence threw me into a state of frustrated confusion." He
turned her hand over and traced the outline of her thumb and fingers,
drew a circle on her palm, then repeated the pattern.
Steve felt the
goose bumps rise on her arm in response to his absent-minded caress,
but rather than pull her hand away, her fingers flexed to give him
better access to the sensitive skin between.
"The first time I saw
you, I desired you. I do not expect you to comprehend my reasoning
completely, but I believed giving in to desire would result in the loss
of some or all of my gifts. I thought I was being forced to make a
choice between my mental abilities and emotions. Yesterday I finally
realized my powers have increased in a vein parallel to my emotions.
She felt her cheeks grow hot and had to look away from him. "So that was why—?"
"I
quit fighting my attraction to you," he finished. "You are nervous now.
There is no reason to be. I will not break my promise." But he did not
stop his sensuous stroking of her palm.
"I still don't get it. Why
would making love to me be different from any other woman you've been
with? They do have sex in Innerworld, don't they?"
Falcon laughed.
"Yes, Steve, they have sex. In fact, they are much more casual about
that physical activity than your people seem to be. But, as an empath,
I had no personal knowledge of desire, until recently. What makes you
different is that you are the first woman I desired."
"But surely .
. . You're shaking your head. You can't mean I would have been the
first?" He nodded. How ridiculous! This had to be the greatest come-on
line she had ever heard. A man that looked like him should have had
hundreds of conquests by his age. The whole concept of a grown man
being a virgin was completely alien to her.
She tensed with
comprehension. Falcon stilled his hand. "There's one question you
haven't answered yet. What are you, Falcon?" When he did not answer,
she prodded, "Are you human, or something else? Your eyes are so
different." Her fear returned. "Oh, God. You even asked if you seemed
human to me." She tried to pull her hand back, but he held it tighter.
"Let me go."
"Please let me explain. I said I will tell you the
truth, and you have not given me an opportunity to respond. I am half
human. My father was a human, from the planet Norona. My mother is
felan, from the planet Emiron. I inherited my gifts from her; my
appearance, with the exception of my eyes, from him. Therefore, I am
human and something else." He did not want to know what she was
feeling, but he could not stop it from coming to him. Her hand had
become cold and clammy, and she swallowed several times, as if
attempting to control a rebellious stomach. He only wanted her to know
about him so she would not be frightened. Instead, she was repulsed by
him. There was no comfort he could offer her when he was suddenly in
urgent need of it himself. He opened his hand and let her pull away.
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