Ellora's Cavemen: Jewels of the Nile II Read online

  “We know you have good reason to believe as you do and you need time.” Finn’s smile looked strained.

  Drace stepped forward and his hands cupped her shoulders. “We won’t change our mind. I know it’s not going to be easy for you to get used to this. You’re going to have to trust us to know what we feel, that we won’t change our minds.”

  “You will. I won’t watch you lose trust in me and start checking everything I say.” She put her hands on his chest, pushing at him.

  Finn walked over to them and stepped close, his chest brushing against her arm. “We won’t, but that’s something you’re going to have to realize on your own. We’ve made our choice and we’ve chosen you. You’ll have to make your choice, but we’re not going to give up on you.”

  Tears burned the back of her eyes and she took a step back. Her choice. It was impossible. How could she take the risk? She knew what happened and how people acted. This time wouldn’t be any different.

  She took another step back, saluted, turned and went to the kitchen to wait for those doors to be opened. Her last glimpse of the two men seared into her brain. Drace’s expression had hardened, and his body was very tense. Finn watched her with an almost understanding smile. He had his hand clamped on to Drace’s arm as if holding him back.

  Chapter Five

  Kyna walked into the room she shared with three other women. A package had been placed on her bed. She knew it was a message from Drace and Finn. Those two men didn’t play games—or give up.

  The entire base knew about her father. When she’d discovered they’d informed the other Calazi of it, she’d wanted to hunt them down and hurt them. She’d expected a reaction. But the Calazi officers hadn’t even remarked on it. At first, she couldn’t believe it, but all that seemed to matter to them was the quality of her work.

  The Calazi officers’ acceptance had seemed to ease her tension somewhat. They truly didn’t seem to care. More importantly, neither did she anymore. She didn’t know when it had happened, but she’d found inner peace. She still had periods of doubt, but she knew she could trust them. Each day, her doubts about the relationship with Finn and Drace faded a little more.

  In the weeks since she’d left them in that dining hall, she hadn’t been able to get either of them out of her mind. The feel of their bodies haunted her. She wanted to go to them, but fear of the pain of losing them held her back. If they walked away from her, it would tear a hole in her soul.

  She hadn’t opened any of the other messages and packages they’d sent her. At the time, she’d thought it would only reinforce the discomfort and loneliness she already felt. It hadn’t worked. Staying away from them had seemed to create a wound that wouldn’t heal. She’d caused the pain she was trying so hard to avoid and it wasn’t getting easier with time.

  Something had to give and she’d made her decision. Her choices had been limited. She either had to find a way to deal with her fear or she had to transfer. It was obvious they had no problems with her father being a pirate. Only her objections kept them apart.

  The thought of someday losing them scared her, but she couldn’t even think about leaving them permanently. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, and walked to the small desk. She lifted up the screen, slid back the cover for the touch keyboard and sent a message.

  * * * * *

  Drace gripped the arms of the chair in the private conference room he’d arranged. He hoped the fact that she’d finally contacted them was good news. Letting her walk away the first time hadn’t been easy, and he didn’t know if he could do it again. She belonged with them. Why couldn’t she see it?

  The light brown walls and relatively small space had been a better option than the large conference room. He’d wanted the intimate feel of this room with its small rounded table and comfortable chairs. Too bad the cameras precluded any real intimacy.

  The door opened and Finn rushed into the room. Drace tried to relax his tight muscles.

  “Good, I’m not late,” Finn said, dropping into one of the cushioned chairs. “And stop scowling. You’re going to scare her when she gets here.”

  “This might not be what we want to hear.” Drace looked at the door. She was late.

  “Then we’ll do what we have to do, but she’s worth waiting for.” Finn sat back in the chair, but Drace could see the anticipation and tension in his body.

  A short tone sounded, announcing that someone was requesting entrance. Drace pushed a button on the table and the door slid open. Kyna stood in the doorway, clutching the box they’d sent her. His eyes swept from head to foot. She’d lost weight and didn’t look as if she’d been sleeping.

  He wanted to go to her and pull her into his arms, but held back. First, they’d find out why she’d requested a meeting with them. For a moment she just stared at them, but finally stepped into the room.

  “You wanted to talk to us,” Finn said.

  She swallowed and licked her lips. “I’ve let my fear rule me.”

  “We understand that you haven’t had many people take you on trust.” Finn leaned forward and braced his arms on the table.

  “I’m not very trusting either. I was afraid to believe that your feelings would last.” She grimaced and put the box on the table. “I was afraid of losing you, but being without you hurts too.”

  “So what are you going to do about your trust issue?” Drace asked. He stayed in his chair with effort. If he touched her, he knew they wouldn’t be talking.

  “I’m still afraid, but I realized that what I felt wasn’t going away. I either had to request a transfer and leave or be with you.” Her hands flexed and she fidgeted nervously.

  “And what are you going to do?” Finn’s shoulders shifted.

  Drace knew just how Finn felt. If she thought she was just going to walk away from them, she needed to think again.

  “I can’t leave you.” She bit her lip. “This would be easier if someone would hold me.”

  Finn lunged out of his seat and got to her first but Drace was only a step behind him. Their arms wrapped around her and held her between them. Drace felt her lean into them. Her body relaxed as she put an arm around each of them and held on tight.

  Finally! The thought floated through him like a cooling wind. She’d finally accepted the truth. She’d chosen them.

  “I can’t promise all the fear is gone completely. I can only try to trust in you, believe in you. I might doubt you at some point.” She looked at him, biting her lower lip.

  Finn cupped her chin. “We’ll deal with that if it happens—together.”

  Drace leaned in so he could look into her eyes. “Don’t ever run away again. You belong with us.”

  “I hope so, but…part of me is really afraid it won’t last,” she admitted.

  “We’ll last. Now let’s go to somewhere really private. I’m not going to let the men in security have a free show when our quarters aren’t too far away.” Drace brushed a kiss across her lips.

  Her tongue slipped out from between her lips, tracing his lips in deliberate provocation. He heard a groan and looked over to see Finn’s head tip back. He looked down and saw Kyna cupping Finn’s bulging cock through the fabric of his dark green pants.

  “Oh yes,” she said with a wicked smile. “There’s this position someone promised me we’d be in soon. It’s sparked some very interesting dreams. It’s been too long,” she added. “I want to see if I imagined correctly how good you are.”

  “We’re better than you remember. You’ll be lucky to make it to your next shift on duty.” Finn cupped her chin, turning her head to meet his kiss as he thrust his hips, grinding his erection into her stroking hand.

  “Are you sure? My memories of that time are pretty special.” Her voice had gone soft and husky.

  “You’ll have to tell me just how it compares.” Drace cupped her ass, squeezing lightly. “We’ll give you a lifetime of memories.”

  Drace and Finn kept her between them as they led her out
of the conference room and to their bed. They’d make sure she never regretted it.

  Sunrise

  Natasha Moore

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Frisbee: Wham-O, Inc.

  Chapter One

  I stroll down the well-worn path from my cottage to the lake, trying not to break into a run. My pulse races for no real reason except for the hope that rises within me. The tall grasses brush against my bare legs, reminding me of his fingers trailing along my skin. The setting sun throws streaks of pink and yellow across the horizon and the beauty of it stops me in my tracks. I left my easel in the garden. Maybe I should have carried it with me tonight. Or at least my camera to capture the colors.

  But my heart has been stuttering in my chest all day long and I don’t want to bring anything but myself to the beach tonight. Perhaps it is only wishful thinking. Perhaps he is never coming back. It’s been weeks since he last met me on the beach. Weeks since his expert hands played my body like his private instrument.

  I tell myself I’m here for the sunset, but my body recognizes the lie. I start walking again and my breasts feel heavy as they move with each step I take. I tied on his favorite bikini top tonight, the skinny blue one. I didn’t bother with the bottoms, simply wrapping a short pareo bursting with tropical flowers around my hips. My pussy throbs with anticipation. The flesh swells and moistens as I remember the joy his mouth and hands can bring.

  The breeze picks up, tearing at my hair and pulling strands of it free from the clip that holds it away from my face. The beach is deserted, as it usually is this late in the day. No, there are a few teenagers down at the other end, laughing and drinking beer. They won’t pay attention to a woman nearly twice their age, walking by herself. If they notice me at all, they’ll probably feel sorry for me, walking the beach alone.

  I take my sandals off when I reach the sand. The grains sift between my toes and I wiggle them in delight. The sand is still warm, like the breeze blowing across my heated skin, drying up the beads of sweat that roll down my chest. I make my way slowly down to the water, the sandal straps dangling from my fingers.

  I won’t look for him. If he appears out of the gathering darkness, he won’t catch me searching the shadows for his wide shoulders and long-legged stride. I keep my gaze fixed over the lake, the water reflecting the streaks of color. The sun is now reaching the horizon and, as always, I’m amazed at the speed with which it sinks into the water. Does the earth really revolve that quickly?

  Why does time sometimes fly like that? The hours we spend in each other’s arms are over in an instant. Yet the last six weeks have crawled by. How slow will the rest of my life move if he doesn’t come back this time?

  I catch his scent first, that sharp, musky scent that fills my nostrils, and I breathe him in with relief. I still focus my gaze on that spot of water where the sun disappeared and hold my breath, keeping that part of him with me for as long as I can. When he touches my shoulders from behind, my breath leaves me on a sigh.

  “You’re here,” I murmur, leaning back into his hard body. The pink and yellow have left the horizon. The water and sky are blending together.

  He steps forward, pressing into my back. I can feel his arousal hard in the cleft of my ass. His long fingers knead my shoulders where he knows the tension builds. “I’ve missed you.” His deep voice is low and rumbles through my body like the buzz of arousal.

  I turn into his arms because I can’t wait any longer to see him again. I cup his face in my hands and brush my lips across his. “How was the tour?”

  He sighs. “Exhausting. I’m glad to be back.”

  Are those shadows under his eyes? It’s hard to tell in the growing darkness. Soon I won’t be able to see him at all. I take his hand and lead him over to a bench at the corner of the park, where the edge of a streetlight beam barely reaches. We’ll head for our private darkness soon enough, where my mouth and skin and sex will be aroused and satisfied. My eyes haven’t had enough of him yet. Not nearly enough.

  He raises his eyebrows in that sardonic expression that almost makes me come right then and there. “Into the light, Caroline? That’s not like you.”

  He’s right, of course. Part of the appeal of our trysts has always been sneaking away into the shadows, as we did the first night we met. He appeared out of nowhere that night as I walked the beach. Within moments we were crazy with lust, touching and tasting each other. We shed our clothes and our inhibitions behind the long boathouse. No one ever goes down there after dark, but there’s always the chance that someone else, like us, will be looking for a little privacy.

  Perhaps that’s part of the appeal too.

  He sits on the bench and pulls me between his legs. The light is at my back. I can see him, but I know I’m in the shadows. The way I like it. It seems much longer than six weeks that he’s been away.

  “You cut your hair.” I comb my fingers through his short, dark strands.

  He shrugs and pulls the clip from my hair. The heavy weight settles over my shoulders and down my back. The breeze picks up the golden strands and blows them across my face. He gathers my hair in his hands and pulls my head to him. His kiss is hard, bruising, punishing even. I know why and wish I could give him what he wants.

  At first his lips are dry, but as we kiss they quickly moisten and we slip and slide against each other. Our whole mouths are soon involved. Tongues. Teeth. Taste. No one else kisses me the way he does. As if he would devour me if he could. As if my taste is the only thing that can sustain him through the days to come.

  Or is that the way I kiss him?

  I lick his lips with my tongue, drinking him in. I’ve been thirsting for weeks.

  “God, how I’ve missed you,” he says. His cultured British accent slides over me. He clutches my shoulders. “Come home with me tonight.”

  I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let me go. He slides one hand through my hair and holds on to the back of my head. His firm grip forces me to look him in the face as I fight against the panic scrambling in my stomach. A slight smile lifts his lips as he lowers his other hand to the back of my bare thigh. A delightful curl of arousal replaces the panic. I shift between his legs, moving closer to him, my hands resting on his legs. The cooling grass tickles my bare feet.

  His eyes seem to darken as he slides his hand up beneath my pareo to cup the cheek of my bare ass. The breeze coming off the lake follows his hand along my skin, blowing against the wet flesh between my legs. I vaguely wonder if anyone, like those teenagers over there, can see my bare curves, but I don’t care enough to stop him or move out of the light or do anything but press into his hand.

  His fingers play with my ass for a moment, teasing me with their nearness to that sensitive spot between my legs. I rock my hips, trying to get him closer, although he doesn’t need a reminder that I want those fingers deep inside me. He knows. But he’s not happy with me now.

  Still pinning me with his gaze, he begins to stroke my ass with his long, calloused fingers and I melt as I always do, relaxing into the erotic caress. When the slap comes, I jump. I gasp and stare at him, but his expression hasn’t changed. We’ve tried nearly every sexual position imaginable, but he’s never spanked me before. The sharp sound seems loud in the quiet surrounding us. He gives me couple more gentle strokes before the next slap. Harder this time.

  I shouldn’t like it, but illicit excitement dances along my skin. Does he mean it as a punishment, a harsh reminder that he wants to take our relationship to a new level and I won’t agree? Punishment or not, the quick slaps are incredibly arousing. He spanks me again. And again.

  I can’t stop myself from bending over, tucking my face into the crook of his neck, pressing my ass harder into his hand. Moisture runs down my leg and my heart races as he spanks me again and again. His other hand is still buried in my hair, holding my head a
gainst his shoulder.

  We’re both panting. My ass is on fire. My whole body burns for him. My pussy’s throbbing and I’m so close I can almost feel the first waves of an orgasm.

  But as if he can tell I’m that close, the slaps begin to lessen. His hand strokes me again, lightly, gently. My skin prickles with the burn and I almost beg him to continue. But I won’t beg.

  He drops a kiss on my head and I slowly straighten and look him in the face. His lust is clear in the darkness of his eyes, the tense set of his jaw. His mouth is in a thin line, but then I know I’m not smiling either. We’re both still breathing heavily. His fingers begin to wander, sliding between the cheeks of my ass and straight to my center.

  I’m so wet, his fingers slide through my slick folds, teasing the sensitive flesh, rubbing them between his finger and thumb. A whimper starts in the back of my throat and slips from my lips. He smiles now and strokes my pussy some more but manages to stay away from my aching clit. Does he know that if he touched it with the softest brush of his finger I’d go off?

  “Alan…” He dips two fingers into my hot center and I gasp, with no breath left to utter anything but his name again.

  It was months before we knew each other’s names. They didn’t matter. Not to me. Nothing mattered but skin and mouths and ragged breathing and coming apart in each other’s arms. Nothing mattered but desire desperate enough to chase away the loneliness for a little while.

  But he wanted more. And while I would have been happy to enjoy mindless, anonymous sex forever, it isn’t enough for him. And now he wants to take me home.

  I point up to the sky with a shaky finger, to that inky blackness sparkling with pinpoints of light. “Look at the stars,” I say lightly and try to smile. “How can you want to go inside?”

  “I want to lay you on a soft mattress with a feather pillow for your head. I wouldn’t lay my cello in the dirt, why would I want to take you on the sod?” He cups my face and softly brushes his lips across my cheek. “No more, Caroline. I treasure you too much.”