Tempest Reborn

Page 18

Luke and Griffin exchanged an inscrutable look, and I cackled mentally.
‘That’s ridiculous,’ the Alfar second said eventually as Luke retreated back into himself. ‘Of course we want you to dispatch the Red and the White. They are our enemies, and they must be stopped.’
Like any good politician, Griffin could flip-flop on an issue faster than a greyhound could break into a run.
‘So does Jane have Alfar support, along with human?’ Daniel asked, his voice cheerful. He had clearly enjoyed the show.
‘Jane is and has always been our champion,’ Griffin said, casting Daniel a withering look. ‘Of course she has our support.’
‘Then let’s shake on it,’ Daniel said, a completely unnecessary touch I think he threw in just to annoy the Alfar. But I wasn’t much happier at having to grasp Luke’s clammy paw, and Griffin looked like he’d rather bite off Daniel’s.
‘Well, then, that’s settled. My lads have the bones, Jane. Shall we get you back to base?’
I nodded at Daniel, fluttering my fingers at the Alfar. ‘I’ll call if I need anything.’
Griffin looked ready to explode as we walked away. He knew a brush-off when he saw one.
Once we were safely ensconced in one of Daniel’s military SUVs, I let the giggle I’d been holding back bubble up through my lips. Turning to Ryu, I hoped he’d join me in a laugh.
But my former lover was staring out the window, deep in thought, and when he turned his face toward my laughter, he looked at me as if seeing a stranger.
My laughter died, and we drove in silence back to the airbase.
Chapter Eleven
When I fell asleep that night in one of the guest accommodations at the airbase, I prayed fervently that I might have another Anyan dream. At some point during the day, after recovering from the shock of the first dream, I’d changed my tune about seeing Anyan when I was sleeping. Even if I couldn’t remember them exactly, I’d decided that a dream was better than nothing. That said, I never expected my prayers to be answered, as though Morpheus were some radio DJ taking requests.
But upon closing my eyes in the dark, sterile environment of my borrowed room, I promptly opened them to find myself in the snug confines of the hut’s little sleeping nook. I was also naked, and not alone.
‘Oh, puppy,’ I cooed as the barghest stroked a calloused palm over my flank. The fur beneath me was soft and warm, tickling against the backs of my knees. The barghest was even warmer, although not so soft.
Stormy gray eyes met mine as his mouth descended for a kiss.
‘We don’t have much time,’ he said in my ear, his voice low, as if afraid someone was listening. ‘He’ll find us quickly enough, and he’ll spy, even if he can’t touch us here.’
‘He?’ I thought, confused. Why would someone want to listen to Anyan and me in bed? But all thoughts disappeared in a puff of pleasure as the fingers stroking down my sides moved inward, to the V in my legs. I groaned, a throaty growl of ecstasy, as Anyan’s thick fingers dipped into my sex.
‘So wet for me.’ The barghest’s voice was rough in my ear, and I pushed my hips up into his hand in response.
His fingers found their rhythm, driving my pleasure forward. I cried out, so close to the brink after only minutes of his hands on me. He knew what drove me wild, what I needed. Speaking of which…
‘Do that thing,’ I moaned. ‘That thing with your power…’
The first time we’d had sex, he’d used his power like extra hands, touching me all over. It had been incredible, like nothing I’d ever experienced.
Anyan chuckled, pinching my clit gently for my impertinence. An act that did nothing to decrease my arousal, believe me.
‘Greedy girl,’ he said. ‘And I’d give anything to fuck you like that again. But my powers are no longer mine.’
Why not? I wondered, but not for long. Anyan added a thumb and a pinkie to his routine, and pretty soon I was gasping for air and seeing stars.
‘You’ll just have to make do with plain old me,’ he said, nipping and sucking on my neck as I shattered around his fingers, crying out in unabashed pleasure until he wrapped his free hand behind my neck to clamp a hand over my mouth.
I kept singing his praises, even if they were muffled, as he kept my orgasm going until it became almost painful.
Only then did I push his hand away, curling in toward him in a boneless heap only to feel his hardness against my belly. When I could move again, I reached down a hand to stroke him. I looked up into those iron eyes, so full of sadness and affection that my heart broke. I knew that I was just as sad, and just as in love, and that there were so many things I should be saying to him, even if I didn’t know what they were.
But Anyan always knew what to say, even if he didn’t speak too often.
‘Ride me, Jane,’ he told me, shifting so that he was on his back. His hands wrapped around my hips and pulled me up and over him, until I straddled his hips. ‘Ride me, and remind me who I am.’
With tears in my eyes, I did just that. Taking him deep in my body, so deep I gasped, I set a gentle rhythm that didn’t last long. Soon enough he was bucking up toward me, setting a driving pace. Our bodies slapped against each other in the warm silence of the hut, and it was like a Beethoven symphony to my ears.
The tears fell, unbidden, as I rained kisses on his also-wet cheeks. Finally, Anyan came, and I sucked the cries from his lips even as I exulted in giving him such pleasure.
I fell forward on his chest, letting him hold me as I watched the flames dance in the fire pit in the center of the hut.
‘And I am me again,’ he said eventually, stroking a hand over my hair, down my back. ‘At least for a little while.’
I listened to the beating of his heart under my ear and I knew I missed him very much. So I told him so.
‘I miss you, too, my love,’ he said. ‘But you mustn’t stay much longer. I don’t want him to have proof that we’re meeting this way.’
I moved so that I sat, cross-legged, next to Anyan, looking down at his strong, rough-hewn features. His dark curls were spread on the furs behind his head, making him look strangely vulnerable.
‘Why can’t I remember anything besides now?’ I asked him, finally able to articulate what had been bothering me. ‘It feels like a veil’s been drawn across my memories.’
‘It’s the nature of dreams,’ the barghest said sadly, running the tips of his fingers up and down my thigh.
‘This is a dream, then?’ I asked.
‘Yes. I’m sorry to say so, but yes.’
I shook my head. ‘It feels so real. I can’t be dreaming. This is our home…’
‘This is not our home, Jane. This was a home of mine once. Now it’s my prison. But I built it to be comfortable, hoping you’d find me. And you have.’
‘Important things are happening,’ I realized then. ‘Things I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember?’ My voice had increased in volume, sounding slightly shrill even to my own ears. I realized my heart was beating rapidly. Was I panicking?
Anyan had also sat up, peering around the hut that no longer felt quite so much like home, or quite so safe.
‘He’s close,’ Anyan said. ‘And you’re getting better at remembering. You just have to convince yourself it’s not a dream. Then we can talk. But now you must go.’
With that, Anyan kissed, a lingering, delicious kiss. Capped off by a very hard pinch to my thigh.
My leg, charley horsing like crazy, woke me up. Swearing up a storm, I tried to stretch it out, my hands fisted in my sheets until the pain subsided and my muscle stopped twitching.
What the hell? I thought. Must have pulled something. Or I need potassium. Aren’t charley horses caused by a lack of potassium?
I got out of bed, feeling oddly boneless, to go to the little bathroom attached to my room. I got a drink of water and splashed some on my face, then used the toilet.
Washing my hands, I studied myself in the mirror. I knew I’d had a dream, and I remember it being supersexy and about Anyan. It had obviously really turned me on, and except for the charley horse, I felt the same dreamy, subdued way I felt after sex.
Must have been some dream, I thought as I made my way back to bed. Curling up under the blankets, I shut my eyes. But I couldn’t drop the idea that the dream was important.
I rolled over onto my back to frown up at the ceiling. What could have been both important and leave me feeling all sated? It’s not like I needed to remember my sexy dreams, although I wished I could. But it couldn’t have been important, right?
Wrong, my brain said. It just wouldn’t let it go.
This is stupid, I thought. I’m dreaming about Anyan because I miss him, nothing more.
So why did the dream feel so important? And why did I feel like I needed to remember it so badly?
Slowly, the dream started coming back to me. We’d had sex, and it had been amazing dream sex, yes. But not as amazing as it had been in real life, if I were honest.
Which says a lot about Anyan as a lover, I thought. For how many men could actually claim to be better than the fantasy?