the violent justice I just witnessed my husband dish out. Perhaps it was justified but it still freaked me out.
His long legs had him to me in seconds, he grasped my bicep, turned his back to me, swung me up, my legs automatically curled around his hips as he wrapped my arm around his neck and then he stalked out of the tent.
Welp. Guess that meant the games were over.
Yikes!
* * * * *
“Hold still,” I snapped at Lahn, who was sitting on one of the chairs in our tent and he kept jerking his head out of the way when I tried dabbing his cut lip with the wet, soapy rag I’d managed to explain to Teetru I needed.
My eyes moved from his annoyed ones and I tried to dab at the blood again.
He jerked his head away.
“Lahn!” I hissed. “Hold still!”
He didn’t hold still. He tore the rag from my hand, tossed it on the table and came out of the chair with his shoulder in my belly.
I let out a gust of air as I went up then I went down as he threw me on the bed then I let out another gust of air when he landed on top of me.
“Lahn, we need to clean your cut lip.” On a wheeze I told him something he wouldn’t understand and clearly had no intention of sitting around and allowing me to do. It was a miracle I got him to sit in the first place. It only happened five minutes ago and I still didn’t know how I managed it.
His hand went between us and he yanked one panel of my sarong aside.
I knew where this was going.
“Lahn –”
“Rayloo,” he growled.
“Lahn! Your lip!”
That bloody lip (and his not bloody one, they luckily came in pairs) came to mine. “Rayloo, Circe.”
I glared into his eyes as his hand glided up the skin of my side.
Shit, that felt nice.
“All right, rayloo. I’ll rayloo, whatever the hell that means,” I grumbled, his eyes went soft and his hand went away from my side.
It came up to my face where the pad of his thumb put pressure on my chin and his fingers put pressure on my lips.
“Rayloo,” he said quietly.
Ah. Rayloo.
His hand left my mouth.
“Quiet,” I whispered.
“Quiet,” he repeated.
“Rayloo,” I tried it out and he shook his head like he didn’t know what to do with me (as, perhaps, he would considering he’d told me to be quiet and I kept talking) but affirmed, “Rayloo.”
“Okay,” I said softly.
His hand slid down my arm, took mine in his and then it pulled mine between his legs and moved it down inside his hides. Then his fingers curled mine around his hard cock.
Wow. Nice.
I bit my lip and squirmed under him.
He shook his head like he didn’t know what to do with me again, his hand left mine around his cock and his went into my panties.
Okay, I was wrong; he knew what to do with me.
So I shut up and let him do it.
Chapter Eight
New Warriors
I felt the thump of something heavy and soft and my eyes opened.
The minute they did, I saw a furry paw and then felt the gentle thump of it against my cheek.
“Loolah,” Ghost mewed, I smiled at my baby, captured her in my arms and gave her a snuggle.
She squirmed free and then bounced and rolled around the bed, a bit on the mattress, mostly on me.
I looked to the other side of the bed.
Lahn was gone.
This was the first time I’d woken up in this world without him.
No, strike that. This was the first time he had not woken me.
And, again, I had woken up in this world.
I rolled to my back, pulled the covers up to my chest and stared at the ceiling as Ghost jumped around, clawing and playing and anytime I could get my hands on her, I scratched or stroked but she was not having that and kept bouncing around.
My mind was bouncing around too.
One, I kept waking up in this world. Two, I had no idea how I got here. Three, I had no idea when I’d be sent home. Four, I had no idea if I’d be sent home. Five, I now had no idea how I felt about that.
Two days ago, I would have begged, borrowed, stole or killed to get home. No joke. Anything, anything to get away from this place.
But now, I’d spent time with Diandra, Sheena and my girls. I had Ghost, a white baby tiger who freaking called me Loolah. The marketplace was interesting. My clothes were kickass. The warriors approved of me. I was a queen which, seriously, had its perks.
And then there was Lahn.
As freaking crazy as it sounded, the man was getting to me – smiling at me, carrying me around on his back in that sweet way, letting me have Ghost, being everything he had not been in bed those first three days and, in fact, being the best lover by far I’d ever had in my life.
Not to mention he was beautiful.
And I was starting to feel a weird connection to him that didn’t make sense but I knew it was there, I felt it, that connection, a fierce pull. And it scared me because I didn’t get it; it made no sense so I decided to bury it, deep.
At the same time I watched him carve into a man without blinking, then stick him with a blade. He’d hunted me. He’d had no problems raping me and then taking me repeatedly when he knew I did not want it and was nowhere near ready to receive him.
He still scared me at the same time he fascinated me, drew me in.
And I had seen my husband smile. I had seen him laugh. And both looked good.
I had a husband, which in itself was bizarre.
But my husband had still not (even last night) kissed me.
And bizarrest of the bizarre, I really wanted my husband to kiss me. I wanted that intimacy; I wanted it a lot, too much. So much, I freaking ached for it.
Totally… whacked!
And lying there in our bed, waking up without him for the first time, I had to admit, I was disappointed he wasn’t there.
Crap.
I didn’t want to be stuck in this world. It frightened me; not only the culture I’d been thrown into but whatever power might be out there that took me to it. I had to admit some parts of it were interesting and some parts even cool. But the rest scared the shit out of me.
And I worried about my Pop. I worried that he was frantic, wondering where I was.
