Craved

Damon:

How had Renee forced Damon into a dream without his control as if she were a succubus or a fairy, and he drunk on her honey wine and could only do her bidding? The notion still baffled him. Plus, to make it worse, she left him in her dream, alone. Never before had he been locked in such a trance.

Trapped in the endless beach scene wasn't a fantasy in the slightest. There, the world had darkened, and if she didn't return to this realm and reunite with his incubi soul, the chances of his death were one hundred percent. How had she known to return? To touch or kiss him and bring him back?

Was the crystal to blame? Had to be. Then, when she kissed him with the same passion as in her dream, it snapped him out of the dream-prison. The agonizing pain of needing release made him forget he couldn't allow his emotions and lust to overcome protecting Renee.

Sure, he shouldn't ride the rush of passion building between them, but he couldn't stop himself at first. Her exquisite mouth made him forget he was an incubus and she a mere mortal. When she straddled him and began driving her hips in a rhythm, all he thought about was ripping her clothes off. At least the coolness of her fingers against his flesh snapped him out of her spell.

Then the warmth of their current foreplay grew frigid when he told her no.

Even in the haze of her anger, he desired her. With Renee, her body and mouth, he forgot his scruples. If they had both been naked, or even her, he doubted he could've stopped himself. If they made love, he wouldn't be able to regulate himself.

"Sor-" He planned to apologize and soften the blow of his rejection, when the crystal pulsed against her chest, a flash of light, almost like a heartbeat. Did it sense him?

Part of him wished to explain how his soul was stuck in her dream and he was an incubus, but he couldn't.

"I'm glad you're feeling better." She stretched her arms out in front of her. "Guess your fever must have broken."

Fever? Incubi didn't get sick or fevers. "I was warm?" A side effect of his approaching doomsday?

"Yeah." The muscle in her jaw twitched. "You were burning up. I'm surprised you didn't steam when I put water on you."

So that explained his damp hair and his shirt stuffed in a corner. "Thank you." He was sore all over. Just moving an inch caused his stiff muscles to bellow in protest.

"You're welcome," she said in a half-whisper. Reaching for her pack, she frowned. "You've not eaten anything since breakfast yesterday. I saved you half of my protein bar."

"I'm good. You should eat it." Almost five o'clock by his watch. He'd been asleep and trapped in her dream for nearly a day. His sensitive hearing told him no one was nearby. Though, he hoped it was only the rocks blocking the tunnel that made it eerily quiet outside their walls.

Yesterday, he'd been at the point of starvation from sexual energy fasting. Today, he didn't need two cups of coffee just to open his eyes all the way...had to be because of the closeness of the crystal.

Get the crystal; don't harm her in the process. The sooner they got out of there the better. Get Cynthia to meet with them to discuss the urn. Even though she'd never know it was closer to the truth than she realized, Renee wouldn't be happy her theory of a sovereign priestess was incorrect, but he'd have a replica made of the urn for her.

He placed his hands behind his head, his elbows resting against the wall. "What's the first thing you'll do when we get out of here?"

"Eat a big, juicy cheeseburger." As if embarrassed, she flushed. "And tons of fries with extra salt and pepper."

So many of his girlfriends only ate salads. "I'll take you out for as many burgers as you can eat when we get out of here." His gaze drifted to the pile of boulders behind her, blocking their way. He feared how high the barrier went and trying to move the rocks might cause more damage with falling debris by trying to get out.

"Then we'll meet up with Dr. Abany's team and I'll finally be able to dig into some dirt."

He shook his head. "Sorry, that's postponed. Abany texted me earlier to say his team is battling a stomach bug. It'll be a few days before we'll go over there."

"I don't mind going."

"They'll be better in a few days, then we can go. I don't want to risk anyone's health and it's difficult being sick like that out on a dig." Of course, the help for Abany was just to keep her and Damon's team occupied.

He'd arrange for Travis and whoever wanted to remain back at their camp to stay there until they returned or hopefully the guards left.

Damon sat up straighter at the faint scrape of metal against the rock behind her. Since she didn't react, she probably didn't hear it. He guessed firemen were attempting to rescue them from a passage or two away. For a moment, he debated telling her, but then she'd ask how he knew, and it would be hours before it was loud enough for her to detect.

"Cynthia should be back from her trip any day now." He ran his hands on his thighs.

"Good. I can't wait to know what she discovered about the urn." Renee frowned looking at her nails, then dug the dirt out from underneath them.

"So, when you're not an archeologist," her head snapped up, "or teaching, what do you like to do?"

"Like hobbies? I like reading and sewing."

"Any games?" No one in his family played chess or cards with him anymore because he won so many times.

"Like basketball or soccer? No, I'm not good at sports." She picked at a loose thread on the hem of her shirt.

"I didn't mean just sports." He'd have no qualms about having her on his team. "Cards or chess?"

"Sure." She paused, cocking her head to the side. "Why?"

"I thought you and I could play something." Stretching, he ignored his aching muscles and rose. Then he shifted through the small rocks littering the cave floor.

She laughed. "Last I looked, we didn't have a deck of cards."

Near his feet, he gathered up several pebbles.

"What are you doing?"

"Gathering rocks to use as chess pieces." He found two similar-looking orange rocks, then a white and glanced around for more.

"Here? Now?" Her eyes sparkled.

"Yes. We must agree on which chess member each rock represents, then we'll draw out a board in the dirt." He used his free hand to sketch two small squares. "See?"

She grinned, and warmth spread through him. "Making the best of a bad situation. I would've never come up with playing chess with pebbles. Good idea."

"When you grow up without electronics, it's amazing what your mind comes up with to use for games." She probably thought his parents were strict religious people and not the fact he'd been born thousands of years before the Industrial Revolution. "Now, these two white rocks are the queens, because they are the most valuable." From his pocket, he dug out his utility knife. "I'll mark each with the first letter of our names, so we know who's who."

As if excited to do something fun, she knelt, her upper body leaning forward. "It's not strip chess though, right?"

"Do you want to?" He watched her face for her reaction. Would she be appalled? Or slightly curious.

"No." Her words came out breathy.

"It crossed my mind." Too bad she wasn't more comfortable with him, or he'd love to play a game or two of stripping.

"What are those black ones for?"

Clever girl, changing the direction of their conversation. "Bishops and rooks. The rounder ones being the latter." He noticed her staring at his chest then glancing away as if in embarrassment for him catching her. So, to make her comfortable, he set the rocks between them and fetched his shirt from the other side of the cave. "Care to finish drawing the board?" After he pulled on his shirt, he sat and counted the pieces to make sure they had the right amount. "Now your king will be this coffee-colored flat pebble, while mine is orange and round. We'll have to keep track of the pawns too, since I couldn't locate enough to match entirely."

"I'll remember what they are." She drew the remaining squares in the dirt floor with a small sharp rock.

The makeshift board was complete, and the rocks posed as chess pieces. "Ready? Ladies first."

She set her knight out. "Next time, you'll go first, to be fair."

"A bold move, using your knight so soon." But he'd played countless games of chess and could probably beat her even if drugged. Was she a sore loser and would never play again? He'd find out soon enough. "Your turn," she said.

He pushed a pawn forward, freeing his queen a bit. He played chess like he did a lot of things: with seventy percent aggression and thirty percent defending.

In response, she leapt another knight from its barrier. So, she played more defensively. He scratched his chin, his stubble poked against his fingertips.

An hour passed as they played. Most of her pieces laid beside the dirt board. He'd chased her with his moves, but she never faltered. She placed her rook on the same row as his king one square away and looked up with a gleam in her eyes. He was trapped. "Checkmate!" She beamed.

Next game, he'd pay more attention. "Again?"

"Yes." Her tone was a mixture of determination and willingness.

She picked up the rocks with him, and their hands touched. The blush on her cheeks had his heart clenching. She was so beautiful, intelligent, and stubborn. Did she not realize it?

"I believe you are black this time. Might take you a while to beat me." He scratched his chin.

"Don't let me win!" Red dotted her cheeks, and her amber eyes showed outrage.

He held up his hands. "I didn't. You won fair and square. Can't promise you'll win again."

"Oh?" She paused. "Why?"

"Two reasons. One, I know what type of player you are now. Two, I won't get distracted by you again."