She had never been visited by the female who, immediately after birthing her, had given her into the care of specially trained staff in that suite of rooms that was a prison.
Such was the life of the Princess of the s’Hisbe.
She had found a way out, however.
And had been drifting around the palace under the guise of a maid, a low priest, even an astrologer, ever since.
maichen slipped out and briskly walked away.
Nothing like discovering s’Ex, her mother’s favorite lover, having a tryst with two human females, whom he had evidently smuggled in—likely through the rear entrance. maichen hadn’t meant to find out his secret, but she had discovered that there was a grate up high on the wall, and learned that, if she dematerialized into it, she could travel along the system of heating and air-conditioning ducts.
For quite some time, it had been nothing but a game with which to pass the time, and she had learned nothing of note from her spying. That had changed one night, however, as she had, in her Shadow form, looked down through one of the slats, and gotten her first and only sight of the mating act.
Although . . . well, there had been a lot of body parts.
So she wasn’t sure what she had seen exactly.
She must have made a sound or something, because s’Ex had frozen and looked up, meeting her eyes even while the humans kept moving and grinding against him . . .
s’Ex had come to her cell immediately thereafter, and they had struck their little deal. In exchange for keeping what she had seen private and no longer using the venting system, she was allowed to leave her quarters provided she stayed within the palace and kept herself duly camouflaged.
s’Ex’s indiscretion could well have been the death of him: Shadows believed that mating was a sacred act. And the Queen would have been infuriated to know that certain body parts of hers had essentially been . . . exposed . . . to the body parts of humans by virtue of s’Ex’s exploits.
That male was supposed to be hers and hers alone. Everyone knew this.
And those human women? He might as well have had sheep in that bed of his.
As maichen padded along, moving through the corridors, her stomach began doing flip-flops. As she had gained age, she had been granted some privacy, such that she could send all attendants away from her quarters—and she had exercised that privilege once again this evening: Before going to check that her mother was, in fact, in full mourning, she had told her servants to depart from her quarters, as she was exhausted from stress and desirous of some privacy as she exercised the rituals required of her.
None had questioned her. And no one would be back until after dawn.
It would be easy to use the grate system and escape out into the world.
Meet up with her betrothed’s brother.
And . . .
Well, she didn’t know what.
Stars above, was she really going to do this? She wasn’t even exactly sure where the cabin he had spoken of was.
No, this was foolhardy. Stupid. Reckless—
An image of iAm standing naked before her cut off all thought.
As her body began to warm from the inside out, she realized that, in spite of all her mind might be telling her, her flesh was going to drive her to him.
She would go. Heaven help her . . . she was going to go.
And deal with the consequences, whatever they may be, later.
FIFTY
Trez just needed to cop to shit: When it came to Storytown, he was only good at the kiddie rides. Stuff like the Teacups, and the Dragon Tail—which was a swoosh that didn’t leave the ground and barely gave you a breeze in the face—and the f-in’ carousel with its elevator Muzak and those hard-seated, impaled horses and unicorns going up and down.
Speaking of poles and up and down . . .
“You ready to go home?” he asked.
Selena looked up at him. “I am. This has been so much fun.”
“I know, right? Best night of my life.”
She leaned into his body, giving him a squeeze. “That’s not totally true, though. I thought you were going to lose it on the roller-coaster.”
He stopped. Pivoted her around. Swept her hair back from her face. “I was with you. So it was perfect.”
The kiss was supposed to be one of those I’m-making-a-point ones, a quick affirmation that he meant what he’d said. But he’d been wanting to get it on with her all night, and before he knew it, he had her flush against him, her breasts pushing into his chest, her hips locked in his palms, his tongue stroking hers.
“You wanna get out of here,” he growled again.
“Yes,” she said against his mouth.
It was probably time anyway, he thought with a quick glance at his watch—yup, eleven fifteen.
Even though his cock was in a hurry to get gone, he didn’t want to miss the stroll back to where the car was parked. With his arm around her shoulders, and their left-rights in step, they walked the paths that took them by all the rides they’d gone on, past the blue picnic table where they’d done the dog and burger, around the cotton-candy concession where they’d gotten a big cone of Marge Simpson hair and torn off pieces to feed each other.
“I didn’t get you a stuffed animal,” he said.
“Buy me one? Oh, I don’t need—”
“No, win you one. At like a six-gun shooting range.”
She sent him a look from under her lids. “I know how you can make it up to me. Remember eating that cotton candy?”
“Yeah . . .”
“Your tongue was very good at it.”
As all kinds of hallelujah images of her naked with her thighs wide hit him, he had to wonder if there wasn’t a hotel on the way home.
“God, I wish this were summer,” he groaned.
“Oh?”
“I could push you into a dark corner and take those pants down.”
“You could do that now, you know.”
He stopped. “It’s too cold.”
“Is it?” She took his hands and pulled on them. “Look over here. There are no lights. It’s sheltered.”
Sure enough, the visitors’ center, which was lights-out closed because it was just them, was a star-shaped facility, multiple entrances jutting out from its central body, creating pockets of dense, private darkness.
“No one will see,” she whispered against his throat.
Without any exterior lights, the juncture she drew him into was pitch-black, and his sex hit the go button before his brain did. Turning her to face him, he kissed her hard and pressed her back against the painted siding, his hands sneaking into her parka and finding her breasts. Her nipples were tight and he pinched at them through her bra and blouse, tweaking and then thumbing them as he eased his thigh in between her legs.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this all night,” he said before taking her lips again.
She was hot and fluid under his hands and against his body, ready, so fucking ready, so with him. He wanted to get her totally naked—there was something really frickin’ hot about the idea of her like that and him fully clothed; plus then he’d be able to get to her nipples with his mouth. It was way too cold for that action, however, and besides, he was down for a quickie in this hidden place, but he was not feeling the idea that anyone would see her in that state, all gloriously undone and hot as hell.
The bonded male in him was liable to tear some poor Good Samaritan human apart with his fangs.
Not the romantic end to the evening he was looking for.
His hands went down to the waistband of her slacks and it was a case of unclip, unzip, and down-you-go. They were boot-cut, thank fuck, and one side slid off from her shoe just like a dream.
“Do you want my panties off?” she asked between heaving breaths.
“No, I’m going to fuck you with them on.”
And he did. He grabbed her perfect ass and hopped her off the ground and around his waist. Reaching in from behind, he stroked at her, feeling how ready she was, how hot she was, how desperate she was.