9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

M ara

This is like some action movie. But I’m not in the audience. I’m living through it.

My heart is hammering, my hands are trembling, and my thoughts have slowed. I always thought that if I ever had to face a traumatic situation, my brain would arrow to pinpoint accuracy. Too bad that instead of becoming a courageous ninja, I’m paralyzed, and my thoughts are spinning.

Krull is close, his amber eyes are focused on me, and his lips are moving. Forcing myself to focus, I finally tune in to his words.

“We’re going to stay here, hunker down. See?” He points to the ceiling. “That’s where the bullet hit. Bullets travel in a straight line. Fired from street level, they’ll hit the ceiling every time.”

I know I should take comfort in what he’s saying, but I’m not sure the words are registering .

“The power’s got to come back on soon. Or cell service. The moment we’re back online, I’ll get you out of here.”

“Out?” Is that my voice? I sound like a child—a frightened child. As terrifying as it is to be inside the apartment, the idea of risking life and limb to leave the building is even scarier.

“I work for the Zone fire department. If the humans won’t help, my friends will. They’ll rescue us. We just have to stay safe until then.”

It seems like the most natural thing in the world for him to lift me up and put me on his lap, my hip grazing his waist.

“Look on the bright side, Mara. We have more bread, peanut butter, and jelly, right?”

I nod as I sink closer to his reassuring heat.

“We have water, right?”

“Mmhmm.” His chest reverberates with the soothing rumble of his deep voice.

“We’ll get through this. I promise.”

I struggle to get my brain back online, but it’s still stuck in primitive caveman mode. Only it’s flipped from the terrified-emotion channel to the Krull-is-sexy-and-I-want-to-have-sex channel. How did that happen?

Frankly, it doesn’t matter. This tension has been building since the moment I first laid eyes on him. Well, the first moment I saw him I almost crapped my pants. But I replay the moment when he swung out of his cab—hunky, muscular athleticism wrapped up in ugly orange coveralls.

When I move my head off his chest so I can look at him, he’s focused on me. His voice has been calm and deep and reassuring, but the look on his face is simmering with desire.

“Kiss me.” My voice is commanding, but my gaze skitters from his. It doesn’t wander far. It arrows to his lips.

“That’s not what you want. You’re terrified and confused. I think this is some kind of stress reaction.”

This whole experience is so new. Having been through a quake and a flood and gunfire, I’m living in my primitive mind, which is all emotion. So what he just said flares through me like wildfire.

“Don’t tell me what I want, Krull.” I jab my finger at his chest. Where did I grow the balls to do such a thing to a humongous orc? “You can tell me you’re not interested, or you can kiss me, but you cannot tell me how I’m feeling.” To emphasize my point, I poke him again and add, “Got it?”

Maybe the pokey thing wasn’t such a bad strategy, because it launched him out of inertia and into action. His fingers slide through my hair, tip my head back, and his mouth claims mine as if he owns me.

His lips are soft yet unyielding as all higher thought fades, and I give myself over to the kiss. With one arm wrapped around my back like a steel band, his other hand cups my face possessively, holding it in the perfect position for him to deepen the kiss and devour me.

I moan into his mouth, a primal sound that can somehow be heard over the cacophony of trauma unfolding outside. It’s like we’re in our own little bubble, insulated from the chaos and danger surrounding us .

I have no idea how long we stay like this, lost in the heat of each other’s mouths. Time seems to stop and melt away as I give myself over to Krull’s touch.

“This? This is what you want?” he asks breathlessly when he pulls back, his amber gaze searching mine.

“No, Krull. I want more .”

The big, muscled orc’s eyes widen in surprise at the same time he rearranges me so I’m straddling his waist.

“Feel that?” To ensure I know exactly what he’s talking about, he grinds his steel-hard ridge along my slit. “I’m an orc, Mara. You’re human.”

Though his tone is reasonable, as though he’s about to tell me we shouldn’t do this, he pauses to slide the tip of that thick, black tongue from the point of my chin to the hinge of my jaw.

“You’re in shock,” he husks into the shell of my ear.

He nips my earlobe, then scrapes his teeth down the tendon of my neck to bite my collarbone.

“You’re running on fear and adrenaline.”

He sighs into my ear—or maybe it’s more of a hum that’s filled with feral longing.

“You shouldn’t make any decisions in that state.”

His statements do the opposite of what he intended. Instead of cooling my hunger, making me rethink, his words make me desperate for him .

“Tell me more reasons I shouldn’t want this while you take off those heinous coveralls,” I say as I try to undo the zipper that runs from his neckline to below his waist.

“Not more than a few hours ago you were terrified of me.”

“Exactly. That was ages ago. Lifetimes .”

I don’t need his help. My fingers are doing a fine job of locating the zipper pull and tugging it down the expanse of that gorgeous muscular green chest.

“Since then, we’ve been through plagues of biblical proportion.”

Holy mother of God. Though I’m not surprised he’s going commando, it still sends a jolt of sexual lightning up my spine when I pull the cloth down and expose his emerald-green cockhead. I try not to stare, but even a casual glance tells me it’s a darker green than the rest of his skin. It’s plump and pumping out pearly beads of pre-cum.

He sucks breath in through clenched teeth, then manages to say, “That’s no reason to do something you might regret.”

I nuzzle the curve of his neck, breathing in his scent. My expensive honeysuckle soap has already disappeared from his skin. He smells like only one thing—a big, huge, muscly, gorgeous orc.

Wiggling, I place my lips at his ear. I didn’t have to wriggle. I just did it to provoke him, which results in his aroused gasp as I try to suppress a moan.

“It’s not the trauma driving this, Krull. It’s you. You’re a good person. You’ve done nothing but try to protect me since the moment this started. You’re smart and so fucking good-looking, I’m going to go up in flames if I can’t lick you right now.”

He groans, the sound brimming with desire, yet he doesn’t pounce, which is what I want him to do. Instead, he asks, “You sure?”

“Positive.”