Kieran (Tales of the Shareem) by Jennifer Ashley, Allyson James Page B

stopping her mouth with hard, bruising kisses. He wore a thin tunic, and she could feel every hollow and plane of his body beneath it as Kieran scooped her against him.
    Kieran’s mouth went to her neck, her throat; he lifted her so he could close his mouth over her breast. He suckled her as sensually as he had the berries and their juices.
    Felice bathed in the feelings as she cling to his arms—the pull of his mouth, the bite of his teeth, the shivery fire that burned her. For so long now, Felice had shut herself off from emotions and sensations, burying them deep so she’d feel no pain, no grief, no fear.
    Kieran was all about feelings, a man made to spread them to others. The people who’d created him had tried to suppress his needs and desires, but Felice had seen them, raw and stark, inside him.
    Especially when he’d said I don’t want to know, if knowing makes you go away again.
    Felice stroked his hair as he licked and nipped—sleek and clean, light catching the rich, dark depths.
    Kieran raised his head and let her body slide down his, wonderful friction. “I want you to stay a week,” he announced.
    Felice blinked. “Why a week?”
    “That’s how long it will take before you’re done. It’s how long it always takes.”
    Felice had no clue what he was talking about, but she sensed the importance of what he was asking her.
    She had to leave; she knew that. But the thought of leaving this man behind while she ran again, seeking safety, made her balk. She might never see him again.
    Or she could hide here, wait for TGH Corp to get tired of looking for her. She could leave when she was sure the company had written her off as a loss and departed the planet again. They’d not risk losing money on costly cargo for one missing worker. Not when they could simply buy another.
    A voice deep inside herself, one that had shut itself away for many years, told her she was a liar. Felice could convince herself that it was logical to hide with Kieran, to enjoy what she could before she ran again, but the simple truth was . . .
    She didn’t want to go. Not when she’d just met him.
    Felice nodded, looking into his eyes. “All right,” she said, her voice shaky. “For a while.”
    Kieran stopped, the blue of his irises dimming a bit. “Good.”
    Felice stroked his hair again, loving being held against him. “What do you want me to do?”
    Kieran shook his head. “I do everything. Let me give you all I know how to give you.”
    Again, Felice wasn’t sure what he meant, but it sounded delicious and wicked. Locking herself away with Kieran, while he taught her new and incredible things, was sounding like a better idea all the time . . .
    The door chimer went off, shrill, loud, and insistent, followed by thumping on the door itself. Felice sucked in a startled breath and tried to untangle herself from Kieran, wanting to run, run .
    Kieran’s dark, commanding voice cut through her panic. “Go into the bedroom, and don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe.”
    Felice swallowed, letting his tone calm her, and she nodded. Kieran scooped up the coverall and tucked it into her arms, then gave her a swat on her bare backside as she darted past him for the bedroom.
    Fear was coming back. Wanting, fear, happiness, hope—all the things Felice had taught herself to forget. Kieran was waking her up again, drawing her out, and it would be so very, very dangerous if he did.
    *** *** ***
    “This had better be good.” Kieran leaned against the door frame and glared at Braden, who had the knack of showing up at the wrong-est time he could. Kieran was hard from holding Felice, scenting her, sucking her, and the interruption pissed him off more than he’d believed possible.
    “It is,” Braden said. He didn’t wear his usual stupid-ass grin. “Except it’s bad. Very bad. Let me in, so I don’t have to tell the street.”
    No one was out there in the growing morning heat, but Kieran took his point. He turned his back