Chapter Five
Jeannie woke by degrees. She fought it, not wanting to emerge in the real world yet. She was having a lovely dream. Halfway between sleep and wakefulness, she tried her best to remain in the enticing state of not-quite consciousness.
A warm, solid body lay next to hers, holding her tight. She experienced a sense of belonging with his legs tangled in hers, his arms banded about her in a secure cage of strength.
She knew she was dreaming, which was why she didn’t push away. Instead, she burrowed her face against the wall of chest even more. Her dream man sighed with pleasure, and a delicious thrill sizzled up her spine. This was where she wanted to stay, this slumber world where she felt loved. Safe. Secure.
Only in sleep could she pretend it was okay to trust another. Here she could safely fantasize that she had found love, a love that would not turn on her, a love that wouldn’t crumble into dust the moment it was tested.
She imagined she dozed next to someone who was not yet another casual lover. Instead, he was that childish delusion of a soul mate, the one man who had been made for her, destined by a heaven she no longer believed in. Strong, self-assured, faithful in all ways. It was a wondrous fantasy, and she didn’t want it to end.
Despite her wish to remain in this twilight state where once-upon-a-time stories held sway, she slid another degree into consciousness. And yet her dream lover remained, deliciously solid and inviting. If he was real, she would wake him with soft kisses. His lips would curl in a grin, a devilish one, because he was thinking of how he wanted to roll over on top of her, trapping her beneath his weight. She wouldn’t be able to escape, but why would she want to? His body felt so good on top of hers, his lips on hers, his hands trapping her wrists to pin them over her head, his legs between hers, sliding them open for access. She went wet. Her womanly scent mixed with his outdoorsy, woodsy smell. She moved deeper into fantasy, imagining that only when he had her in the position he wanted would he open his eyes, gazing down at her with irises of silver and black starburst pupils...
Jeannie’s eyes popped open as she remembered the night before and realized where she must be. Her gaze took in a stretch of carved chest crisscrossed with gold, brown, and white stripes. Holy cow, it wasn’t a dream at all. She was in bed with Kren, the Risnarish alien.
She listened to his deep breathing. The magnificent chest before her moved rhythmically with each inhalation and exhalation. He must still be sleeping.
Moving carefully so she didn’t wake him, she looked up at his face. His eyes were closed. He smiled the gentle smile she’d imagined. Her heart ached to see it, as if wanting something so badly that it might break if denied.
She examined the face before hers now that she had the opportunity to do so without him knowing. After a moment, she decided that the gold streaks weren’t stripes after all; it seemed to be the base coat of his skin. The darker brown stripes accentuated the shape of his brows, nose, jawline, and chin. The white outlined his black-lashed eyes and highlighted the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. It tipped his otherwise black-lined ears, pointed at the moment. The bone structure under all that fascinating color was strong, but the stripes made him appear even more masculine. He was beautiful, and Jeannie’s mouth went dry at the idea of him waking to find her staring at him.
It was a terrifying prospect. It was also titillating. Her earlier fantasy sprang forward, and her heart drummed fast. She thought of the way he touched her last night in the shower. If he believed she was attracted to him, what might curiosity lead him to do to her? Would he be as fascinated as she was by the potential fireworks?
She could do it. She could scoot up the few inches it would take to reach his mouth, to kiss him awake as she’d imagined. His eyes would open and he’d... He’d...
What? Grow a penis, as he had the tail, and give her glorious alien sex? Or more likely, he’d jump up and run away, repulsed by the funny-looking Earthling trying to seduce him.
Jeannie mentally shook her head at herself. What was she thinking, getting all hot and bothered by something not of her own species? Wasn’t it wrong somehow?
Curiosity was not so easily driven off, however. The mysteries surrounding the Risnarish kept her fascinated. Questions needed to be answered. Did Kren’s people even have women? His apparent confusion over her breasts might mean they didn’t, at least not women in the Earthling sense. Perhaps Risnarish were both men and women, all in the same body. Kren had seemed curious about her sex, as if it wasn’t quite what he was used to. Was it because she had visible genitals or because she only possessed one kind?
She thought of the tail he’d grown. If he was as male as he looked, he’d be able to form himself a penis. Then she wondered how big he could make himself.
Why am I thinking this stuff? So what if he’s handsome? He’s an alien. A creature from another world.
Her body didn’t care about that particular detail. She was wet and her nipples had tightened with excitement as she’d imagined Kren making himself all man. A big man.
Her belly warmed. As she battled with her unapologetic libido, Kren’s eyelids fluttered. His mouth opened in a huge yawn and he stretched.
Jeannie’s eyes slammed shut before he could discover she was awake. Would he be able to tell she was aroused? If he did, what would be worse...him finding her repugnant or wanting to see how compatible he could make his body to hers?
Silently begging her heart to slow down, Jeannie forced herself to breathe deeply, pretending to sleep as Kren made more sounds of wakefulness.
* * *
Kren’s eyes opened, and he gazed at the face of alien beauty.
Jeannie hadn’t been just a dream. As he had floated up from slumber, a part of him insisted he’d imagined the whole thing: finding the legendary Tysu, discovering she was a real creature called a Hyoo-man, and learning she’d emerged from Monsudan labs.
Ah hell. He didn’t want to remember that last part. Not now while he looked at her unstriped but delicately beautiful face. A face that the hated enemy could not have created.
As he stared at her, drinking in the fact she was so near, it occurred to him how close he lay next to her. Her body was right up against his, soft in particular places and warm all over...and he’d not gone to the temple for relief in too long.
A demanding throb in his groin woke with the rest of him. Moving with speed but so as to not wake his guest, Kren got out of bed.
He shouldn’t feel aroused by her, not if she wasn’t of the Spirit. Not if she was made by the Monsuda. That would be too unnatural. Yet again, his own spirit insisted she must be a child of the All-Spirit. And since he was also a child of the All-Spirit, his attraction to her wasn’t wrong.
Unless wishful thinking had him all screwed up. That was always a possibility too. Kren looked down at Jeannie. She still lay motionless except for the steady rise and fall of her chest, which had been exposed during his exit from the bed. Those soft, pink-tipped mounds that had pressed sweetly against him, making him think of how it would feel to cup them in his hands, to perhaps even taste—
Another surge heated his groin. A choking sound bubbled up from his throat, and Kren rushed to the kitchen area. He had to stop thinking of her that way. She didn’t want him.
He rummaged around the area to put together breakfast. He wasn’t hungry, at least not for food. He needed to do something, though, anything to distract him from the urge to climb back into the bed, pull her into his arms once more, and kiss her until she was fired with a need that matched his own.
She’s not interested. Stop imagining such things.
He muttered to himself in frustration, “Sure, ignore what she’s doing to me when all I can do is think about her. Not just how she feels or looks, but the way she acts, like something intelligent. Like something real and not made by the enemy.”
He shook his head at himself. Why couldn’t he be rational about Jeannie? Why couldn’t he accept that she might be a false creation, a phony Monsudan construct?
It would be awful if she was, given his physical reaction to her. She was more similar to his species than some he’d enjoyed release with. Interspecies romps were a delightful diversion because Risnarish women somehow made Kren feel guilty for needing sex. Sure, they seemed to enjoy it, sometimes as much as he did. Yet they were of a different mindset. They were closer to the All-Spirit, their emotions calm and serene. For the most part, they were above the carnal urges that drove men, downright impersonal. They shared nothing that mattered to him, none of the warmth of friendship, or the love his guardians shared. Any time he needed release or was called on to breed with a Risnarish woman, Kren was left feeling like a supplicant. He tried not to visit them more than every ten days, a low number compared to Arga and many other men he knew. Even so, he imagined the women exchanging looks that said Kren is here again already. It was the same reason he tried to time it so he wouldn’t have the same partner twice in a row.
Not that he felt bad about requiring sex. It was a healthy and natural function, one the All-Spirit had been kind to make so pleasurable. Yet Kren had fantasies that he couldn’t imagine requesting a Risnarish woman to try. Not when he couldn’t even share his thoughts and feelings with them on a profound level.
Kren recognized his female counterparts were wise. They deserved the men’s protection as they studied the sciences and arts and led Risnar to technologies that made life ever greater and safer from the threat of the Monsuda. It was the technology created mostly by the women that gave lives of ease to those who wished it. It was medical advances, again mostly from the women, that gave the Risnarish such long and healthy lives. It would be the teams led by the women that would discover why large swaths of Risnar were dying, why the planet’s resources were failing beyond the borders of so many villages. It was the women who consulted their quiet, perfect spirits to learn the will of the All-Spirit. It was the female-led councils of elders, along with the help of the Assembly, that kept the village of Hahz and others the healthy societies they were.
In gratitude to the women, the men kept the peace, guarded against the Monsuda, farmed the land, raised the herds, and fathered the next generation.
Kren wanted something else beyond what Risnarish society granted. He desired something—no, he desired someone who would allow him to show the strength that filled him. He wouldn’t have said he wanted the women of his kind to be any less than they were, but he wanted to be more for them. He wanted to be allowed to show power, power he would use to demonstrate that he cared. He wanted someone special who would understand that he wished to help elevate her as high as she could go and that he would keep her uplifted.
However, the women he knew were already far above him. He could not seem to find a way to be the more that his spirit cried for.
He might have sought the counsel of his guardian Mekay for such confused feelings, but he couldn’t put them into words. All the Risnarish women required of him was to keep them safe, keep them fed, and let them continue to do all the things that made the men’s lives good. What more was there to do?
Jeannie needs more, Kren thought. She had strength of her own, that was obvious. If what little Kren had learned was to be believed, she’d escaped the Monsuda somehow. Judging by the signs, she’d survived on her own for at least several days. She was intelligent and creative.
She could use his strength as well. The Hyoo-man was in trouble on many levels. If she was judged to be of the Spirit, she would need someone who could champion her. For her, Kren could be the strength he’d always yearned to be for another. With her fragile body lacking armor or fangs or claws, she needed someone like him. Lost on an alien planet and hiding from the Monsuda, she needed him.
To be needed answered his own cravings. She would help him by letting him help her. It was so perfect that his mind reeled.
“I want to show her,” Kren muttered as he assembled two plates of food. “But first, I’ve got to get her figured out. I need to know what she is. Mekay will know what to do. I hope.”
He glanced worriedly in her direction, thinking Mekay might not see in Jeannie what Kren saw. To his surprise, Jeannie was no longer asleep. She sat up in the bed clutching the linens to her throat, those amazing eyes drowning Kren in their depths.
Her gaze lingered on him until she turned. She moved to sit on the edge of the pallet, exposing the length of her back to Kren. She reached for the dress covering she’d made the night before, still draped at the end of the bed. The linens slid away, exposing the curves of her shoulders, the line of her spine, and the rounded hips. Kren’s mouth went dry at the grace of her nude form, all those soft bends and bows of her body. The seductive contours disappeared behind her curtain of bright, gilded hair as she tossed it back. He could almost feel its shimmering weight in his hands as he imagined shoving it aside to trace over her soft skin. His groin throbbed and threatened to swell.
I’m way overdue for a visit to the temple. He’d have to go for relief at the first opportunity.
Fortunately, she let the sheath fall over her body, masking it enough that sanity could return. Kren dropped his gaze down to the trays of food he’d prepared and concentrated on steady breathing. When he had control, he raised his head again.
Jeannie smiled at him uncertainly and said something incomprehensible in a soft voice. Perhaps she wished him a pleasant morning? It was what he would have done if the sight of her hadn’t knocked the breath from him.
He managed a gruff answer. She stood and moved around the pallet, stepping into a pool of sunlight that streamed down from the top of the dome. The sight of the beam illuminating her pale hair in a wash of pure gold captivated him. Damn if the dress didn’t cling too lovingly to her curves, reminding him of what it hid rather than distracting him from that knowledge.
Kren had to look down at the trays again. He lifted them in his hands, thinking he would take them to the table in the dome’s visiting partition where they’d eaten dinner the night before. He would notice her as little as possible. Yes, he’d concentrate on his food and stop the tide of yearning that grew stronger with each passing second.
He turned, eyes on the trays in his hands, and nearly walked right into Jeannie. He jumped, almost dropping the trays. He’d been so determined to rid himself of her spell that he’d never heard her approach.
She laid a soft hand on his arm as if to steady him. She laughed, the sound apologetic for having startled him. Kren’s determination to not look at her was lost as her eyes lifted to gaze into his. Eyes as blue as the heavens spreading over the dome, robbing the room of all the air he needed to breathe.
In self-defense, he thrust one of the trays at her. She took it with a grateful expression and said something that sounded like “Thaynk yew.”
He spun away, his hearts hammering, and hurried to the visiting partition. There was no escape there. Jeannie followed him to the table, sitting in the same spot she’d occupied the night before. She ate with appetite, making happy sounds as she did so.
Meanwhile Kren sat there watching her helplessly, chewing food that his throat felt too tight to swallow.