374: Work to Do

Work to Do

GAHRYE2

An hour later they were down in the library again, pouring over books that Kalle's Grandmother had saved for them. They would have to take another trip to the Big Library later that day, or the next at the latest. But for now, Gahrye was just relieved that he wasn't in that horrendous car. Yet.

They sat side by side, close enough that their elbows brushed when they reached for books or moved things on the table.

Gahrye's body was on high alert. She'd showered and her hair smelled like flowers, the sweet tang of them mingling with the faint scent of their lovemaking, and something uniquely her.

She hated that he could smell her, but he loved it. It was like carrying her with him when his eyes weren't on her.

He was having a lot of trouble concentrating though.

As he skimmed through yet another page where he'd found reference to the Protectors, he let his hand drift to Kalle's thigh and began to stroke while he read.

There was a niggle in his gut that there was more to understand about this group of Anima who seemed to disappear from the histories three or four hundred years earlier. So far he'd found three references to them, all in books that were over three hundred years old. He had to take so much care with these old artifacts—and there were only a few of them. This one spoke of the fertility of the Anima. He knew he wasn't understanding everything—but the Protectors were noted as a group whose offspring were always more powerful than their parents. And the protectors in general were more likely to have offspring to begin with.

What had happened to these people?

He was trailing his hand up and down Kalle's thigh, and as he turned a page, he registered that her heart rate sped under his touch. He smiled.

He still stared at the page, but he was no longer reading.

When he reached her knee—swathed in the soft, stretchy fabric of the leggings she preferred in the colder months—he opened his hand so he spanned her thigh and pulled his hand up slowly, slowly, his fingertips trailing on the inside of her thigh.

She took a deep breath, but her legs relaxed and opened slightly to give him better access.

His body saluted her.

Neither of them looked at each other as he trailed his hand back down to her knee, then back up again—slowly.

Her heart began to race.

She sat back in her chair and blew out a breath. "I'm really not going to be able to concentrate with you doing that."

He hesitated. "Do you want me to stop?"

Kalle turned, her dark hair shining under the overhead light. Her pupils were large, and her scent reeked of desire. "Not. At. All."

Gahrye leaned in, smiling, but stopped just barely shy of kissing her. His lips brushed hers as he said, "Well, if you don't want me to stop, but you can't concentrate… maybe I should give you something else to focus on?"

"Yes, please," she breathed, her hands coming up to his neck and she pulled him in.

Gahrye groaned into the kiss, the mating call erupting from his throat—he still couldn't stop it. It poured from him every time they were about to make love.

And she got goosebumps every time.

She let her head sink back and he kissed his way down her jaw, to her throat, while his hands explored her, over her clothes, stroking her shape.

Then he reached the bottom of her long sweater and slid his hand underneath it.

Her stomach sucked in when he stroked his way back up her side, to cup her breast through that blasted bra that she insisted on wearing—insisted that humans would notice if she didn't wear it and it would be considered inappropriate in mixed company.

While there was no doubt he enjoyed the way the harness plumped and presented her breasts under her clothes, he could not see the point. She always sighed with relief whenever she took it off.

Clothing should not cause discomfort, though human clothing seemed determined to do so.

He wasn't looking forward to wearing jeens again, either. They were almost as bad as the car.

Then Kalle's hand appeared on his thigh and pulled up the inside of his leg, to cup him through his leathers and he moaned.

Burning up inside for her, he forced himself to let her go, to turn to the table and carefully push the books aside—the very old, very valuable books—so there was a space left in front of them.

When he turned back, Kalle was smiling. "What are you—oh!"

He'd pulled her into his chest, out of the chair, and lifted her onto the table before she could so much as get a leg hooked around him.

She giggled when he plopped her down. But the laughter fell away quickly.

Standing between her knees, cupping her face, he stared down at her, swallowing a surge of emotion and desire that threatened to overwhelm him. He didn't want to frighten her.

But her eyes were wide and her face serious. She ran her hands up his arms, then cupped the back of his neck and stared at him. And he could smell the emotion on her, as well—desire, love, thrill, and a tiny bit of fear.

"You do not need to fear me," he rasped, combing his fingers through her hair. "If I ever do anything to you that you don't like, you only need to tell me. I will stop immediately."

Her cheeks pinked. "I love everything you do to me," she whispered.

"Is the door locked?"

"Yes, I locked it when we came in, just in case," she said and a wicked smile bloomed on her beautiful face.

Gahrye groaned as he took her sweet mouth and their tongues began to dance. He pressed his hips into hers and they both made noises.

"Are you certain, Kalle?" he whispered against her lips, then sucking on her tongue.

She groaned and her breath rushed out of her nose, fluttering on his skin as she arched into him. "Yes," she breathed, then kissed him deeply. "Yes."

"I am the most blessed male under the Creator's sun," he sighed and pulled her in.

*****

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