Dream Bound (28 page)

“It’s okay, sweetie.” Morgan tried to peel her arms from around his throat, but his heart was singing. She’d thought he was in her bed, and her reaction was to roll over and kiss him? Wow!

“Let loose, okay? I can’t breathe.”

“Oh. Oh, Morgan. I’m sorry. God, I feel like such an idiot. I’m so sorry, but I’m so glad you’re here.”

She turned her head and stared at the blue column. Took a slow, deep breath and let it out. “Who is it?”

Morgan grinned. His hands were linked beneath her bare butt, and he decided he liked having his arms filled with Rodie Bishop wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt. “Why don’t you ask?”

“I am so embarrassed.” She ducked her head against his chest.

Morgan shifted her weight, but he didn’t set her down. She really did feel awfully good in his arms. “It’s okay,” he said, addressing the living energy. “She was startled. Who are you?”

The crackling calmed, the swirling sparks slowly took form, and Bolt stepped out of the last of the sparkles. He was beautifully, perfectly naked. His big cock hung down, entirely flaccid, his head was bowed, and he looked like he was ready to cry. “It’s just me. I’m sorry I frightened you, Rodie, but you dreamed me here. I wasn’t planning to come back yet—my shift on board the ship is almost over. When I’m on duty is the only time I can escape—but you dreamed me so beautifully I had to come.”

Morgan felt her sag against him, felt the jerky movements of her chest against his as she tried not to laugh, but it was such a palpable reaction to the adrenaline rush of her fear, it made perfect sense. After a moment, she managed to raise her head and look directly at Bolt without blushing. Morgan had to give her credit for that.

“I don’t remember what I was dreaming, Bolt, but if it was about you, I imagine it was really good. I’m so sorry I screamed. Please forgive me. I think I scared you more than you scared me.”

Morgan set her on the edge of the bed and looked closer at Bolt. There was nothing about him now that didn’t look human. His form was solid, his eyes clear, and while he was definitely handsome, there was nothing so remarkable that he would stand out in a crowd. He shrugged and smiled at the Nyrian. “How long before you have to go back?”

Obviously fully aware of the thoughts racing through Morgan’s mind, Bolt glanced at Rodie. A smile spread slowly across his face. “Not for about an hour of your time. But only if Rodie is willing.”

It took merely seconds before Rodie realized what Morgan and Bolt were discussing. Wide-eyed, she glanced from one man to the other.
I’ve never really done this before, not in real life. Only in my fantasies.

I imagine that between us, Bolt and I can make it even better than a fantasy.

Morgan glanced at Bolt. This would be their first time in real life, without the buffer of fantasy. The Nyrian crawled up on the bed beside Rodie. He carefully wrapped his fingers around the hem of her sleep shirt. “Okay?”

Rodie nodded and closed her eyes as Bolt tugged the big shirt over her head. She slipped her arms free and he tossed the shirt aside. Then he helped Rodie stretch out on the rumpled bed.

Morgan stared at her for a moment, remembering his fantasy. “Tell me, Rodie. What kind of panties do you usually wear?”

Her face flushed. “Black bikini high-cuts, usually. Why?” She glanced up almost frantically at the bright light overhead.

Grinning broadly, Morgan reached for the switch and dimmed the light, but he didn’t turn it off. “No reason in particular,” he said, lowering the light. The room filled with shadows, but all remained perfectly visible.

Rodie stared at him, and he expected her to tell him to shut it off entirely, but just then Bolt’s tongue flicked out and touched her inner thigh. Sighing, Rodie lay back.

Morgan sat on his heels beside her, watching while Bolt made love to Rodie with his mouth. It was the strangest thing, to watch another man with this amazing woman he’d already begun thinking of as his and not want to punch the guy’s lights out.

What was really weird was how turned on he was getting, sitting beside Rodie and Bolt, watching. Bolt’s tongue swept across her mons and he nuzzled the dark hair between her legs. Then he lifted her hips and concentrated on the fleshy lips of her sex, suckling first one side and then the other into his mouth. His tongue swept from her ass to her clit.

Rodie cried out as he concentrated on her pleasure, licking and sucking. He lifted her hips a bit higher until her legs sprawled, displaying her sex. He licked deep between her folds.

Rodie moaned and whispered soft curses like a prayer. Twisting and bucking her hips, she squirmed against Bolt’s gentle assault in an obvious attempt to bring herself closer to his mouth. Her fingers curved into claws and she clutched the blankets.

Morgan found himself watching Bolt, the play of smooth, bronzed skin over powerful muscle and the way sweat dampened his sleek back and reflected the dim overhead light. The Nyrian adjusted his stance, kneeling between Rodie’s legs with his weight resting on his forearms. Morgan’s gaze was drawn to the smooth line of his flank and the taut curve of his raised butt.

He felt Bolt’s blatant invitation and glanced at the bedside table. A small tube of hand cream sat next to Rodie’s glass of water and a book.

The cream would have to do—it was better than nothing.

Morgan slid around behind Bolt and ran his hands over the man’s flanks, down the front of his thighs, and back up to his heavy sac. Wrapping his fingers around the Nyrian’s testicles, squeezing the solid orbs inside and then gently cupping them in his palm inexplicably sent a shock directly to Morgan’s balls.

Bolt moaned and spread his knees, but he kept licking and sucking Rodie, using his fingers now as well as his mouth. The scent of her arousal filled Morgan’s senses, but it was Bolt’s beautiful body that held his gaze. He grabbed the hand cream and filled his palm with a fair amount. It smelled like honey and vanilla, much like the Nyrian’s natural scent. He dribbled some along the crevice between Bolt’s taut cheeks and ran his finger through the cool cream.

Morgan wrapped his fist around his own shaft and slowly rubbed the sensitive head of his cock along the crease. Bolt shuddered as he leaned back against Morgan, but he kept licking and teasing Rodie. Morgan shivered with an overload of sensation both visual and physical—and pressed forward.

“Relax,” he said. Bolt let out a shuddering breath and pushed back. The soft tip of Morgan’s penis slipped through Bolt’s sphincter and both of them groaned. Carefully, pushing slowly, Morgan reached around the Nyrian’s slim hips and wrapped his cream-filled palm around the man’s thick erection.

Bolt’s muscles tensed. Breath hissed between his lips.

Morgan slid his hand from base to tip as he drove deep, then dragged his hand back as he pulled almost out of the tight channel. In again, and then out, until they found a rhythm that worked for the three of them. Rodie’s soft whimpers made a sweet counterpoint to Bolt’s deep groans of pleasure, to Morgan’s soft litany of curses.

It was so damned good, so amazingly fulfilling to be with both of them, to feel their thoughts and sense the myriad bits and pieces of arousal, of Rodie’s and Bolt’s profoundly strong desire, all spilled freely and shared.

Spilling out, spilling over, and linking the three as one.

Rodie was the first to go. She cried out, arching her hips for Bolt’s busy tongue and lips and thrusting fingers. Then Morgan, caught in the loop of Rodie’s climax, came apart.

“Holy fuck.” It felt more like a prayer than a curse as pressure flashed from his balls to his cock. His body jerked, his cock spasmed, and before he could withdraw, he’d flooded Bolt’s dark channel with his seed.

He was still shuddering with the strength of his climax when Bolt arched his back, words in an unfamiliar tongue spilling from his lips. Morgan continued stroking Bolt’s cock with one hand, but he reached around the Nyrian’s lean hip with the other, clasped his sac in his palm, and held him close. Massaging his balls, stroking his shaft.

A thick stream of Bolt’s seed spilled into and over his hand. Morgan rubbed Bolt’s ejaculate along the Nyrian’s spasming shaft, but it was over much too soon. Morgan slipped out of Bolt and rolled to one side, sticky with sweat and semen, while Bolt moved to Rodie’s other side. The three of them lay there, sucking in huge breaths as their bodies recovered from orgasm.

Rodie lost it first. Giggling, she flattened her palm over her mouth, but that only made things worse. Morgan turned his head, caught the twinkle in her eyes, realized they were tears of laughter, and the whole situation took him right over the top.

Bolt rose up on one elbow and watched the two of them as they laughed hysterically. Morgan felt the gentle contact of his mind as the Nyrian searched for understanding of this strange behavior. Morgan opened to him. Tried to show him how utterly bizarre this was—that he and Rodie, strangers until a couple of days ago, had just joined an alien from another world for some of the best, most meaningful sex in their lives.

It just didn’t get any odder than that. Or better.

But the best part was the sudden light in Bolt’s eyes as everything made sense and one more bit of his humanity clicked into place. His laughter sounded a bit rusty at first, but within a few seconds the three of them lay there giggling like children.

Finally, Bolt rolled to one side. He leaned over and kissed Rodie, and then he reached for Morgan and kissed him as well. “I must return. I will talk to the others, see if there is some way to retrieve the soulstones.” He sighed and shook his head.

Such a natural reaction. Again, so very human. “We have pondered this question for eons, but there was no place for us to go should we escape. This is the first world that could give us a refuge. You may be the incentive we need for success.”

He stood, but Rodie lunged to her knees and threw her arms around him. “Be careful. Don’t take any risks, at least not yet. Don’t let the Gar catch you coming and going. Somehow, we’re going to get all of you out of there. We have to.” She kissed him. “Now go. Hurry. I don’t want you to be late.”

He frowned and studied her for a moment. “Why is that? Why would that matter to you?”

She laughed. “Idiot! Because you matter to me. I want you to come back to stay.” She glanced at Morgan. “So does he. Take care, Bolt. Please?”

He was smiling and then he was merely a burst of crackling blue and gold energy, spinning for the breadth of a second.

And then he was gone.

Rodie flopped back on the bed beside Morgan. She rolled to one side and smiled at him. “Will you stay?”

He nodded. “If you want me to. After I go clean up a bit.” He leaned close and kissed her. “I don’t want to disappoint you, but I’m totally exhausted.”

Her smile lit up the room. “Me, too. I just want to sleep, but I don’t want to sleep alone.”

“Works for me.” He crawled out of bed and headed toward the bathroom, surprised at just how true that was. He wanted to be with Rodie. Wanted to keep her safe, feel her beside him as he slept. Wanted to wake up with her.

That was something new. Something unexpected. Something he definitely wanted to explore.

Rodie was still sleeping when Morgan awoke. Sunlight streamed through the window, but it was early. He felt surprisingly rested, considering how little sleep he’d had the night before, but he pulled on his sweats and wandered out to the kitchen. Rodie’s laptop was on the counter. He grabbed it and carried it to the kitchen table to check his mail.

But then he got to wondering about the group of men they’d routed last night, the ones attempting to break in through the eastern fence. Mac thought the religious aspects behind the protest were a ruse, that there was something else going on.

But what the hell was it?

He ran the name of the lead protestor, Bartholomew Roberts. It wasn’t that common, and at first when he searched, all he came up with was stuff about a dead pirate.

He was still searching for information when Rodie finally crawled out of bed, but by the time he’d retrieved clothes from his cabin and Rodie’d gotten dressed, Morgan had a few bits and pieces of info certain to interest Mac.

14

M
ac shut off his cell phone and stared out across the plateau. Sunlight shimmered off the large satellite dishes and a hawk circled lazily over the array. It was barely nine here at the site, but he’d caught Dink packing to catch a red-eye flight tonight to Germany to cover an important European Union financial summit scheduled for tomorrow.

When Mac explained the situation, Dink had done exactly as he’d hoped—the nationally famous reporter had changed his plans and would be arriving here at the site later tonight. Things were moving so incredibly fast, Mac figured that if Dink wanted a story, he’d damned well better get here soon.

He glanced up as Rodie and Morgan stepped out of Rodie’s cabin. Looked like Morgan had probably spent the night, which had Mac biting back a grin. Ya just never knew. He pocketed his phone and waved. “G’morning.” He fell into step with them, as they walked to the lodge. “I was just going to call you guys. I want everyone together for a meeting. You two okay with that?”

“Sure thing.” Morgan winked and tightened his hold on Rodie.

They went in together. Kiera sat at a table, sipping a cup of coffee. Finn dozed in the overstuffed chair by the window. Mac had already called Cam, surprised when the artist answered on the first ring after his late shift. He’d be arriving soon.

The only one missing was Lizzie, but she was on duty in the dream shack. Mac went straight for the coffee and poured cups for both Rodie and Morgan as well as a refill for himself. “Breakfast rolls are over there.” He waved in the general direction of the overflowing tray. “I’m going to get Lizzie.”

Morgan grabbed a cinnamon roll and glanced at Mac. “Any new problems we’re not aware of?”

“No, but things are moving much faster than I expected. A lot has happened over the past couple of days. I think we need to compare notes. I’ll be right back.”