Page 68 of Zirkov

“Do you think you can ignore what happened with me?”

“The female I made love to doesn’t exist. I will train myself to forget that night and the months that led to it.”

Her frown deepened. “Months? Are you sure? I recall so much of our past before that night. The good and the bad. We’ve had our rough patches working together, but we never distrusted one another. What if what I’m feeling, even a part of it, is real?”

He ran a hand through her hair. “How can I help you accept what’s happened?”

“I don’t know. I thought I could put it behind me, forget it, like other parts of my past, but the memories that are returning are so vivid. I enjoyed myself with you, very much, I know that now. But the og’dals are the reason I slept with you and that infuriates me. I’m having trouble separating my hatred for them from my feelings for you.”

She needed time to heal and rediscover who she was, including how she felt about him.

Zirkov rubbed the scruff on his face, debating if he should assign Konnitch to guard her so he could keep his distance while she… healed. She could forget about this so-called desire for him.

And give him the chance to do the same.

The longer he stood here with her alluring scent invading his lungs and remembering what lay beneath that sheet she’d wrapped around herself, the more he would lose his objectivity. Even now, he remembered her soft body writhing beneath him, matching his rhythm and bringing him to his peak.

“You said I was your sholani, and then you said you misspoke. What made you change your mind?”

That was not a question he expected. “We should both forget that night.”

“You’re avoiding the question. Please, Zirkov, I need answers.”

As she advanced toward him, the sheet dipped lower in front, exposing the tops of those lovely breasts. What he wouldn’t give for one last chance to drag his tongue across the perfect tips. That night, he’d sucked on each tip as she’d thrust her hands over his pleasure nodes, stroking and rubbing them. He’d lost himself in her delicate moans as she’d worked him into a frenzy. Then he’d driven into her like a wild animal.

“Stop, Maggie,” he urged, struggling to keep his hands to himself.

His words stole some of the light in her eyes, but she kept her distance. “Skaggs said a zyanthan always knows when he finds his heartmate. Did that brain implant sabotage us?”

“There is no us.” He tilted his head back, looking up at the plain white ceiling as he sought the words to make her understand… to make himself understand. “There never was and never can be an us, not permanently.” Krike, this entire situation was spiraling out of control. “A zyanthan male’s mating cock only rises for his heartmate.”

“I remember two cocks inside me,” she shot back. “Are we meant to be together, but you don’t want me because I’m broken?”

“Drekk, female,” he said as he gripped her face in his hands. He wanted nothing more than to kiss and show her how attracted he was to her, but she needed stability, not a warrior with a drekked-up past and uncertain future. “You are wounded but far from broken. You will heal, and be stronger than ever, but I am not your sholan.”

“Then why do I feel like I have a hole in my heart?”

“Because there’s a fire between us.” He ran his hand down her neck, wishing he could keep touching her.

Her eyes moved to the open bedroom door.

“Yes, I’d love to spend the night with you, but I won’t. We need to reset our relationship to where it was before.”

“You mean marshals lobbing friendly fire at each other?”

He’d never wanted that, but it had been the only way to ignore his attraction to her. He had considered a temporary pleasure mating with her, but she deserved more than a damaged male. And he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk away from her if they mated again.

“We have no future together. Except perhaps as friends.” His heart sank the moment he said the words.

“You dip your left shoulder when you’re debating an action, your right hand rests on your blaster when you’re uneasy about a new person or situation, and while you’re proficient with a blaster and a knife, you prefer a blaster.”

He listened as she spouted off facts. “You know me quite well.”

She shook her head. “I know practically nothing about you outside of the job. You think we can go back to being whatever we were before. Friends, co-workers… I’m not even sure what we were. But friends share pieces of themselves. You won’t even tell me about the scars on your neck and chest. Face it, Z, we don’t know much about one another. Perhaps if we did, then—”

“Then I would have seen that something was off with you much earlier and prevented you from losing your job.”

“I lost more than my job. I lost who I am. Someone kidnapped and used me. I need to know where I fit in here on Earth. And with you.”

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