Once Upon a Starman by Allie Marell

Author:Allie Marell [Marell, Allie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Santar knows exactly what Andra sees. The same thing he does every time he looks into a mirror. A battle hardened soldier with no tomorrows. The kind of male who promises nothing but fleeting pleasure, an empty bed and a hollow aching heart.

Love had no place in Centrum Command. The order allowed only mindless rutting, more often with cyborgs or selected males and females to ease the stresses and strains of battle hardened troops. Sex was a safety valve, nothing more.

He took his release where he could and without remorse. Then he met Lina and his life priorities changed. Loving her was his first and most fatal mistake.

And when the authorities found out, she died.

They retrace their snowy footprints to Andra’s cottage hand in hand. The silence between them heavy with promise. He’d be a liar to say he doesn’t need the release. A few moments of mindless pleasure without consequence. He wants nothing more than her soft body all around him, the warm, wet feel of her.

And sweet oblivion.

But it’s more than that. The kiss didn’t lie.

Santar sneaks a look at the woman running to keep up with his long stride. He slows, realising he can’t get her back to the cottage fast enough. Knowing he needs to ease up to make sure she feels the same.

Andra’s cheeks are pink from the cold, her gloved fingers chill through the thick material. But they’re firm and sure in his grasp. She wants this too, but he needs to know that. To know for sure that kiss meant something more than pity for a lost soul adrift in a strange world.

Stopping at the cottage door, he makes her face him. She looks up almost shyly, a smile flitting in and out of her lips. Knows exactly where they’re heading.

“It’s okay, Santar. I want this.”

All the permission he needs. He takes the keys from her hands, unlocks the door and pushes her inside, securing the locks after him. Her padded coat drops to the floor and when she sits on the bench to remove her boots, he does it for her, entranced by the way she leans against the wall, head tipped back as if savouring every moment of his touch.

Is she even aware of the way she responds to him?

Practicalities taken care of, he removes his own, snow-covered boots, grasps her hand and takes control.

Another lingering look, the air between them charged with anticipation. Andra’s chest rises and falls, taking in a shuddering breath. He’s having the same trouble, though guesses that for her, this is not the norm.

The thought humbles him. And he wonders at this overwhelm of feeling with something he’s treated as routine, merely a necessary release since Lina’s death.

“Your bedchamber or mine?”

“Mine.”

It’s odd thinking in terms of his and hers when he’s been here so short a time. Feels like so much longer. And strangely, Andra’s reply already means more to him than it should.

A show of trust. He wants this to mean something to her. Even if he leaves tomorrow, he wants to gift her something.

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