Dream Bound (25 page)

Mac stood up. He had Rodie’s tote bag with the squirrel in his arms. “Thanks, Cam. I’m going to take her with me. Tell Finn I’ll probably bring her back during his shift.”

“Sure, Mac. Later.” Cam turned back to the console, staring blindly at the dials. What a mess. Mac was so focused on Zianne, had he even heard what Cam had said about the Gar? Of course, Cam couldn’t blame him. Mac had spent his entire adult life designing and building the array so he could save the woman he loved, and she’d come back as a fucking squirrel. If it wasn’t such a horrible tragedy, he’d laugh, except there was nothing funny about it.

He glanced at the sketches he’d made after connecting with the Nyrians. The one who’d come had taken shape here in the shack, not because of sex or any kind of prurient fantasy on Cam’s part. No, he’d come in response to Cam’s request for help.

Instead of a hot chick, he’d gotten one of the elders, a quiet, soft-spoken man with an amazing mind. He’d offered energy to Zianne and she’d declined, but then he’d given Cam everything he needed, more than he’d asked for.

There were a few details to fill in, but the older Nyrian was going to find out what he could, and he’d added something else that Cam figured was in their favor. The Nyrians had abilities the Gar were totally unaware of. Things they could do that might help ensure their escape.

They’d just never had any place to escape to, before. Now they did—they had Earth as a refuge and a group of humans willing to help them.

It was an opportunity the Nyrians couldn’t ignore.

Cam settled back in the recliner. He still had two hours to go on his shift. He let his mind flow freely this time, not into the realms of other worlds but into his own sexual fantasies, though it felt so weird, trying to imagine a fantasy lover.

His dreams had always been places, not people. He really had no idea what kind of lover he wanted. Didn’t even know what sex he preferred in fantasy, and that was strange. He’d always thought of himself as heterosexual but open-minded.

Maybe that was the way to dream. Just open his mind and think of sensations. Of what felt good, not necessarily who was making him feel that way.

Smiling, he settled back and merely thought of the Nyrians, of an entire race of intelligent people held captive, desperate for freedom. He sent his thoughts into space, his hopes for their freedom, for their future, and left the fantasy up to whomever caught his dreams.

12

T
his couldn’t be real. None of it—his life was so screwed up right now, his head so full of questions, he found it difficult to do more than put one foot in front of the other. Mac left the four-wheeler in front of the dream shack and walked back to the lodge, carefully carrying the tote bag and Zianne.

She’d awakened as soon as he’d picked up the bag, but she sat calmly in her little nest and watched him. He felt like sobbing with frustration. To wait so long, to come so close, and not to have the woman he loved in his arms was killing him.

He carried her up to his room and shut the door, set the tote bag on his bed, and stripped off his shirt. Got a whiff of himself and decided he was a bit too funky to go to bed like this, so he shucked his shoes and pants.

Zianne watched him. Her dark little eyes practically sparkled. He glared at her—the woman he’d loved his entire adult life, stuck in the body of a fucking squirrel—and he was frustrated, angry, and scared half to death. “Stay there,” he growled. “I need a shower.”

Damn, he was giving orders to a squirrel. He wouldn’t be surprised if the men in white coats showed up, except he knew this squirrel could understand him. He turned on the water, waited for it to heat, and stepped under the spray.

They needed a plan. Somehow, they had to figure out how to get the Nyrians’ soulstones so they could bring them all to Earth, but how the hell they were going to manage that was beyond him right now. In the meantime, they’d have to hope that the energy Zianne’s people were able to share was enough to keep her alive. At least it shouldn’t be too taxing for her to maintain her life force within the squirrel’s body.

If only she didn’t have to do it for too long.

Crap. And if Bolt’s fears were correct, that the Gar were considering moving against the earth anytime soon, the entire thing was a moot point. He’d tried to convince his contacts in the government of the danger, but not a single person would take him seriously. The military men he’d spoken to at the Pentagon thought he was a complete nutcase, in spite of the fact that their soldiers were armed with weapons Mac and BGV had developed.

Hell if he didn’t wonder the same thing himself. He scrubbed himself from head to foot, lathering up and rinsing away the stink of the long day. He needed sleep and he needed to eat. He hadn’t had a thing since lunch with the kids hours ago, but there hadn’t been time.

He’d never expected them to make contact so quickly. Hadn’t imagined something like Zianne’s situation or the horrible sense of pressure with time of the essence if he wanted even a chance of saving her, but it seemed that since they’d arrived at the site, there was never any time.

No time, and so many things to worry about with Zianne and the Nyrians. And now he had a bunch of nuts trying to break into his site for whatever reason. He’d call Dink first thing in the morning. His buddy had resources for ferreting out information superior to anything even the military had.

One more thing to worry about. “Just put it on the list. Crap. Damned list is as long as my arm.”

Mac leaned his head against the wall. Steamy water beat down on his back and shoulders, and he let his exhausted mind drift for a brief moment, a respite amid all the hassles. He thought of that night so many years ago when he’d come home after too much beer at Dink’s. He’d taken a shower that had marked the beginning of the long and winding road leading to tonight.

He almost wished he was as drunk now as he’d been then. At least the Jack was still in his room. Along with the tote bag and the squirrel.

Shit. This was so not what he’d expected.

“What did you expect, Mac?”

His eyes flew open. Zianne knelt in front of him, as breathtakingly beautiful as she’d been so many years ago. Water sluiced through her long dark hair, and her violet eyes sparkled. Water beaded on her lashes, coursed over her cheeks like tears. Her lips were parted. She held her hand out to him.

He was almost sure his heart stopped beating, but then the damned thing tripped into overtime. He wanted to say her name, but he couldn’t form the sound. Instead of taking the hand she offered and pulling her up, his legs gave out.

He knelt on the tile in front of her.

“Dear God. Zianne? How? My God, it’s you. I can’t believe you’re here. Finally here, but you ... oh, shit. I love you. I’ve missed you so much.” He was babbling like an idiot and choking on sobs that felt ripped from his gut. And Zianne was reaching for him, wrapping her arms around him, and holding on so tight, and thank goodness for that because he was sure he’d fly apart without the warm band of her arms.

Her lips moved almost frantically against his throat. He heard her soft words of love but he still couldn’t speak. Couldn’t say a thing through the lump in his throat, through the thick, wracking sobs that had him doubled over her body, clinging to her with such frantic need.

Twenty years of grief, of pain and frustration and the worry of not knowing if she lived or died. Twenty years condensed into this one moment in time when he held her in his arms and once again felt a sense of hope, a chance that maybe they could succeed, that possibly all was not lost.

Zianne held him close, hugged him to her breast and soothed him with tiny kisses and meaningless words. She was the one who helped him to his feet, who shut off the tap, who handed him a towel. He dried himself, unable to take his eyes off her, afraid she’d disappear. He helped dry her off as well, but he quickly dropped the towel to run his hands over her smooth skin, to feel the body that he’d once known so well.

She was exactly the same as the last time he’d held her. He was twenty years older. Twenty unbelievably hard years.

Right now, though, that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the fact that she was here, in his room, in his arms, and he couldn’t stop touching her. Couldn’t stop staring at her, as if she were nothing more than a fantasy. His fantasy, come to life.

Finally, he cupped her face in his palms and held her, leaned close and kissed her, tasted the flavors he’d never forgotten and feared he’d never taste again. Sighing, he inhaled the sweet scent of honey and vanilla. “How? How can you be here?”

She smiled and ran her fingers over his cheek. “Bolt gave me enough energy. I can’t stay in this form, not for long, but I had to be with you. I need you, Mac.”

“God, how I’ve needed you. Need you now. There are no words to describe how much I’ve missed you, Zianne. Twenty long years without you. I thought I’d go insane, missing you.” He kissed her hard and long and only pulled away to take a deep breath. “But we did it. Your ideas and the money they brought in paid for this entire site. I built the array exactly the way we planned, and it’s working. It’s calling your people. I’ve got a team that can communicate with the Nyrians, and we’re doing our best to figure out how to get the soulstones and free everyone at once. Dear God, I was so afraid I’d never see you again.”

“I didn’t know if you’d be able to get it built, if you had enough information to produce the technology we need, but it’s perfect. I know that some of my people doubted, but I never did. I’ve met some of your team.” She laughed. “At least my little furry alter ego has met some of your team, and they’re wonderful. The one named Rodie shares muffins with me. She’s my favorite.”

“I’ll have to tell her. That’s her tote bag you were sleeping in.” He touched his forehead to hers and sighed. His tears were under control, but his heart still ached. So many things could still go wrong. “What happened? Why didn’t you come back? I’ve worried all these years that you might have been dead. That I’d never see you again.”

“And for me, it’s been only a couple of days. I’m so sorry, Mac.” She leaned back and cupped his face in her palms, and he couldn’t stop from turning his head, from kissing her hand, her fingers. Inhaling the scent he’d missed so much.

She tugged his face back to hers and kissed him, but once again she held his face in her hands and made him listen. “The Gar discovered I was leaving the ship to be with you. They have no idea I passed through time. I don’t think they even know which planet I was visiting, though Earth is the only habitable one in your solar system, so we have to assume they’re aware that I was coming here. Luckily, one of my people heard them talking. That’s how we discovered they planned to capture and kill me, to set an example. I didn’t expect them to go that far because they need every one of us to power the ship.”

“They’re not going to have any of you much longer. Not if I have anything to say about it. I love you, Zianne. I’ve never stopped loving you, but if I don’t make love to you right now, I think I’m going to go insane.” He wrapped his fingers around hers and tugged her toward the bed.

Smiling, she followed him. When they reached the edge of the mattress, she gave him a gentle push and he tumbled backward, but he caught her slim waist and pulled her down with him.

He’d dreamed of this for so long. Dreamed of Zianne in his arms, in his bed. In his life. She rose up over him, holding her weight on her forearms. Her breasts rested against his chest, her long legs twined with his, and tangling both of them together was her long dark hair.

She was so perfect, so absolutely perfect, and it was as if they’d never been apart. When she leaned close and kissed him, he was surrounded by the sweet scent of honey and vanilla.

Surrounded by Zianne. By her delicious scent, her soft breasts, the strength of her arms holding him tight. Her body draped across his, her perfect lips pressed kisses to his chest, to his throat, across his jaw. She crawled up his body, straddled him, and lifted up on her knees. He was hard and pulsing with need, and it was such a simple thing to raise his hips, to find her warmth, her tight sheath swollen and wet. Ready just for him.

She came down on him, too slowly when he wanted her
now,
but he held on to his control as she lowered her body by fractions, taking his smooth crown first so that he felt just the heat and dampness on his very tip, then more until he couldn’t take it like this, not this slow torture by fractions of inches. He arched up, plunging deep inside, filling her, pulling her down as he pushed up. She cried out, clutching his shoulders and tilting her hips to take him even deeper, and as she rocked her hips against his, he lay back, closed his eyes, and opened his senses.

Her sheath clutched at him, holding his erection in a tight, fiery grip. He felt the ripple of muscles along his length, and his head was filled with her scent, with the richness of honey, the sweet scent of vanilla, and he remembered that first night, when he’d wondered if she tasted as good as she smelled.

She had, and more, and he shared the memory with her. Her thighs tightened against his hips and he lifted, plunged deep, then retreated. She rolled forward, planted her hands on his shoulders, and began to move in a steady, flowing pattern. Rolling her hips back and forth, taking him deep, letting him slide almost to freedom, then once again taking him inside.

He knew he couldn’t last. Not after wanting Zianne for so many years, but he tried to go slow, tried not to rush the sensations exploding deep inside. His heart pounded out a staccato rhythm, his lungs pumped air like a damned bellows, but he kept up the slow and steady rhythm that he knew she loved.

He felt her body tighten, knew her climax was close, until finally, he let himself go. The years melted away, until it was just Mac and Zianne. He almost expected Dink to show up in the room, crawl into bed with them, and make it a threesome, the way they’d done so many years ago.

But not tonight. Tonight it was Mac and Zianne and twenty years’ worth of missing the only woman he’d ever love. She arched over him. Her fingers tangled in the mat of hair on his chest, and he almost laughed when he realized how much more there was now than when he’d been just a twenty-six-year-old kid.