Unchained (15 page)

Wex began unfastening the top of her
jumpsuit and murmured, “I love it when you give orders.”

“
So do I,” she
murmured.

Cidra couldn’t remember ever being quite so
relaxed. She ran her hands along the rim of the big tub, stretched
out her long legs and closed her eyes in pure bliss. Warm, soft
water lapped around her, offering the kind of comfort only water
can give—purifying, soothing, fundamental.

She could learn to love this place. Very
simply, Vaasa took her breath away. Her heart wasn’t far behind.
The day had passed so quickly. No matter how much of it she tried
to commit to memory, the sheer beauty of this planet would never be
fully justified in her recollections. Where Avion barely tolerated
its wilderness, Vaasa embraced it, gracefully conceding
civilization to nature.

A mere blur of rolling hills and valleys,
lush forests and vast plains was all she could grasp from behind
Grey on his speeder. They stopped for a picnic lunch by a
spectacular waterfall emptying into a cerulean lagoon. Cidra could
barely eat, her attention drawn to the exotic flora and
fragrance.

Blossoms sprouted from every plant, every
crevice and, it seemed, from rock itself. Great clusters of flowers
cascaded and climbed, crept across the ground, dabbing color in the
endless green of vegetation. Feathery breezes carried a potent brew
of fragrances, mixing and mingling, fighting for dominance.

She could spend a lifetime exploring each
turn in the road. That is, if she survived Grey’s penchant for
speed that bordered on a death wish. She smiled at the thought,
wiggling her toes under the water.

More than once today, she was held
breathless when his words said one thing and his eyes said another.
Dark, intense eyes that watched her every move, every breath.
Although he’d kept his distance from her, she could still feel the
strange, transparent strings that seemed to pull her toward him,
wrapping and binding them together. It seemed the closer he got,
the tighter the strings drew, vibrating to her very bones. There
were times lately when she felt she was burning alive. It made her
feel reckless and wild. A different woman.

She groaned and dropped her head back on the
tub edge. When had it happened? When had she begun falling in love
with a man who didn’t fully trust her and probably never would
despite what he said? What would it take for him to let her in?

She rose from the tub, dried off and slipped
into one of her new dresses. All worries lapsed into the background
with a quick swirl of the short skirt. Sleeveless and black, it
covered little and revealed more than she had bared in public in
her lifetime. It brought a smile of anticipation to her lips.

Grey had promised her a taste of Vaasa’s
night life. She was ready. More than ready, eager, daring, and
invincible. So this was what freedom felt like.

Cidra found them in the kitchen, the
conversation loud and lively. The sound of her heeled shoes on the
stone kitchen floor announced her entry, calling the conversation
to an abrupt halt. All three stared at her with an amusing variety
of expressions.

Rosa nodded approvingly. Barrios’ mouth
gaped wide open. Grey’s reaction was more difficult to define.
Somewhere, she thought, between fire and ice.

It was Barrios who broke the silence, a
shameless smile spreading across his face. “Stars above. Cidra, you
look great.” He turned to Grey and slapped him on the back. “Stone,
old buddy, you better wear that laser pistol tonight.”

With fierce deliberation, Grey skimmed from
her long legs to the short skirt of the slight dress that molded
into every curve to her hair pulled back loosely with stray tresses
spiraling over her bare shoulders.

The eyes that met Cidra’s were dark and
unwavering. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

He didn’t wear his laser pistol. Instead, he
contented himself with being her shadow.

It wasn’t easy. The lecherous glances he
fended off were nothing compared to the ones he gave her himself.
As his eyes swept over her, he groaned silently. This sudden change
in her wardrobe was going to be the death of him. No matter how he
looked at it, this little outing had ‘frustration’ written all over
it.

They walked the main avenue, Cidra’s arm
linked in Grey’s, with Barrios and Rosa bickering endlessly behind
them. Thendara Market teamed with life, entertainment and lovers.
Throngs of people milled around the streets and music reverberated
between the buildings. A festival of banners and colored lights
swung over the pedestrian streets adding magic to the carnival
atmosphere. Brilliant images flashed and fluttered in the night
breeze, lending a touch of fantasy.

Cidra felt light as air. Grey hadn’t let her
out of his sight since they arrived, and she was intensely aware of
the dangerous looks he gave her. It didn’t faze her. Tonight she
was feeling reckless. Maybe it was the dress. Maybe it was the
energy of the night life. Maybe it was the taste of freedom.
Whatever the reason, tonight was hers. She wanted all that it
promised.

She glanced up into the night sky at the
grand smattering of stars. A curious grid hanging high between the
rooftops of the buildings and over the alleyways caught her eye. As
they continued walking past the next building, a similar grid
spanned the subsequent alley.

Cidra pointed to it and asked Grey, “What
are those?”

He glanced up to where she indicated. “The
emergency response system. The city is covered with them, like a
net.”

He gave her an indulgent smile. “This may
come as a shock to you, but Vaasa isn’t perfect. We get our fair
share of quakes, some of them big. When a quake or some other
disaster strikes, the grid lights flood the alleys and streets, a
siren kicks on and usually, all hell breaks loose. By design,
they’re solar-powered, independent from the main power system.
Keeps the city out of the dark and the looting down.”

He moved closer and whispered covertly in
her ear. “But I’ll tell you a secret. I watched city maintenance
test them one day. You can trigger a grid activation by pressing a
button in the center of the first gridhead.” He pointed up at the
nearest gridhead. Cidra could see it was larger and had a slightly
different shape than the others.

“
I’ll bet you could hit it
with a long pole.” He winked at her. “It’s a great show.” He
grinned like a little boy plotting a practical joke.

She laughed, pulling him along. “Maybe some
other time. I just got here. I don’t want to meet the local
authorities tonight.”

A crowd gathered around the next corner,
surrounding an impromptu three-piece band. All the music sounded
alien to Cidra, in more ways than one. Avion discouraged music of
any kind, in keeping with their ‘proper’ image. Now she knew why.
It made you sway, it made you move, took over your body and freed
your spirit. How positively uncultured.

Every corner brought a new sound, a new
tempo. Slow and sensual, lively and erotic. It all felt good. Cidra
let herself move with the primal beats, matching the audience’s
energy. More than once, she brushed against Grey, noting he stilled
every time. After one particularly heavy bump, he caught her arm
and guided them to a nearby crowded establishment.

An eerie blue light permeated the saloon,
adding a mystic quality to the wide variety of clientele and
bizarre decor. A sturdy gentleman behind the bar smiled and nodded
at them. Grey acknowledged the greeting and ushered them to an open
booth, slipping in next to Cidra and throwing an arm over her
shoulders. Barrios and Rosa wiggled into the bench across from
them.

Rosa looked at Barrios suspiciously. “The
saloon keeper knows you already. What do you have to say for
yourself?”

“
Madam, be thankful none of
those lovely street molls know me already,” he said indignantly,
his eyes twinkling. Rosa gave him a swift swat on the
arm.

Grey ordered drinks from a voluptuous
Saurelian server who effectively ignored everyone else. Her pale
green skin shone iridescent in the saloon’s blue light.

Cidra watched the girl move a little too
close and smile a little too brightly. She thought of Mora and
groaned. It was the same feeling she had when Mora spoke of Grey.
Jealousy? She shook it off.

Grey smiled back at the girl. He must have
said something funny, because she laughed a little too loud. Cidra
fumed. Okay, it was jealousy. But it didn’t mean anything.

As if catching her thoughts, he turned to
her, a sexy smile on his lips. “Having fun?”

Cidra was still working on the jealousy
issue and simply stared at him. Even with the noise and the smoke,
she could smell him, feel his power. She wanted him in a way she’d
never wanted any man. She just had no clue what to do about it.

She eyed him speculatively. “Yes. Are you?”
His answer to her question suddenly became very important.

“
Don’t I look it?” He gave
her a puzzled look. Not waiting for a reply, he shifted with a
groan. The next sentence he whispered in her ear. “But I’d
appreciate it if you would refrain from rubbing that beautiful body
of yours against me. I’m a man, not a saint.”

She turned quickly to look at him and caught
her breath with one look at the shimmering hunger in his eyes.

“
Sorry,” she apologized
quickly but it was not what she wanted to say. She wondered what he
would do if she told him what she really wanted.

Drinks appeared, along with a not so subtle
come hither look from the server to Grey. He handled her firmly,
but kindly, and she walked away with a smile.

The conversation wandered through a litany
of stories and recollections from everyone, except Cidra. It struck
her for the umpteenth time what a sheltered life she’d led, or been
forced to lead. It certainly hadn’t been by choice. All those years
missed, locked away.

The evening sped along filled with laughter
and friendly chatter until Rosa and Barrios feigned fatigue and
departed.

A quartet started playing and the dance area
filled up with a mélange of races cast in a surreal haze of blue
light. Cidra could identify each species from her Kin-sha studies,
but reality proved far more fascinating. With delight, she watched
the fantastic flow of skin colors, features and attire bobbing and
weaving to the beat.

The band shifted smoothly into a slow,
wicked, sizzling number. The audience heated up in response. The
patrons closed ranks, bodies rocking in unison. The female singer’s
high, breathy voice plunged the room into a lusty cadence.

The rhythm tugged at Cidra, drawing her into
the dance. She didn’t hear the words, only felt the answering call
in her body. For the first time all night, Cidra felt awkward.
Desire finally outweighed embarrassment.

“
Grey?”

He turned sharply. The strange tone of her
voice caught his attention more than his name.

Her eyes were locked on the dancers on the
floor, her face drawn. “Would you show me how to dance?”

He knew. She didn’t have to say anything
else. Another experience she’d missed. He closed his eyes and
checked his level of self-control. It was as low as it had been all
night. He checked the sensual atmosphere on the floor, hot and
steamy. This was probably not the wisest move, but he couldn’t
bring himself to refuse her.

He rose and held out a hand to her. The
sweet look of relief and gratitude she gave him more than made up
for any discomfort he was about to endure on the dance floor.

Once on the floor, he pulled her to him,
unobtrusively placing her hands correctly and coaxing her into
smooth steps. She closed her eyes to the world and let him lead,
telling her what to do with subtle prompts with his body.

It didn’t take long to fall into the
intoxicating dance. It swept over her in a hot wave of vibration
straight to her core. She could feel the strong muscles under his
shirt, warm breath on her neck, the incredible heat of his arms.
She pressed the length of her body to his, absorbing the fluid flow
of male strength. He hissed in her ear. His body felt so strong and
tight, unyielding against her softness. So hard. Everywhere. His
arms, his chest, his stomach, his...

Her eyes flew open. She swallowed, stunned
by the raw hunger in his face.

“
Don’t look so surprised. I
told you I was no saint,” he growled softly.

Cidra gazed into his silver eyes and gave
into that impulse when your heart tells your better judgment, your
conscience and your common sense to get lost. She stroked his jaw
with her fingertips and said quietly, “I never said I wanted a
saint.”

That stopped him cold, his eyes narrowed.
Was that an invitation? Her face exhibited equal parts of doubt and
desire. She needed to understand there would be no turning back. He
knew he didn’t possess that amount of restraint, not with her, not
tonight. The effort would kill him. This wasn’t going to be soft
hugs and gentle cuddling. This wasn’t going to be sweet and gentle.
What he had in mind was more of a feeding frenzy. He knew once he
started, he would never be able to stop.

The big question remained. Did she feel the
same way? He grinned. Only one way to find out.

He lowered his mouth to hers, the kiss
sizzling as hot and heavy as he could deliver it. His tongue
flickered by and boldly delved deep into the recesses of her sweet,
moist mouth. Deeper, harder, hotter.

In a flash, he found himself too close to
the edge.

Strong arms gripped her like metal bands,
subtle savagery underlying the sensual assault. The world around
her vanished in surging stages as she clung to him. He became her
ecstasy and terror at once, heightening, yet devastating her
senses. It made his sudden, unsteady withdrawal nearly painful.