Imperative: Missing You
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by Belinda McBride
Category: Erotica/Erotic Science Fiction/Science Fiction
Description: In the future, we don't choose our mates; Nature chooses for us. Nature doesn't make mistakes. And if you don't pay attention to Nature's Imperative, you suffer. Aquamarine Davis has an exciting future. The up and coming young choreographer is leaving town for a new job when she feels the unwelcome call of the Imperative. Hounded by an intense, biological compulsion to find her mate, Marina reluctantly attends the local mating assembly. Artist Con Montgomery is thrilled that the Imperative finally called! At 32, he believed his time had passed. For years, he's been haunted by visions of blue which he knew symbolized his mate. The Imperative leads him to Duncan Sinclair, and Con immediately recognizes his future in the smiling blue eyes of this man. When Con and Duncan walk out of the Assembly together, they leave something behind: Marina. Their mate.
eBook Publisher: Changeling Press LLC, 2008 2008
eBookwise Release Date: March 2009
59 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [85 KB]
Reading time: 47-67 min.
"Missing You is a book well worth taking the time to read for those who enjoy a little ménage, a little biological magic, a lot of loving and a interesting spin on relationships. If you prefer stories where the characters are the stars and the hot passion is a strategic embrace to tie it all together, then this is the story for you."--Xeranth, Whipped Cream Reviews
"Imperative: Missing You [is] a great book. The author really drew you into the feelings of the characters. Good job to Belinda McBride, I am definitely going to look for her books in the future."--Elizabeth Charles, Just Erotic Romance Reviews
Standing outside the Morris City Gardens, Marina Davis glared at the ivy-draped walls of the enclosure. She'd hoped her single life would have lasted longer. After all, she was only twenty-three years old. Her parents had not felt the Imperative trigger until they were much older than she. But there was no denying the tingling that swept from her nipples down to her sex. Hell, even her toes were tingling. There was no mistake. Her mate was near and their genetics were calling to one another. She had no choice.
Marina entered the cool garden and left her name with the staff at the desk. The normally serene garden was a symphony of sensation, color, sound and smell. Hundreds of young people were milling, expectant looks on their faces, heads tilted as they honed in on a signal only they could sense. The resonance of the Imperative. The call to their biological mate.
To Marina's surprise, Nature wasn't always intent on reproduction. To her left, two young women gazed at one another in surprise, quivering hands outstretched in disbelief and infatuation. She stifled a smile and moved on.
He was here. The air fairly vibrated with his presence. A strong wave rose behind her. She whirled, beaded braids whipping her cheek, expecting an outstretched hand. She saw no one. The resonance was now to her right. She changed directions. For long moments, contradictory signals pummeled her senses. Confused and discouraged, Marina surrendered and sank to a bench in the shade of an ancient tree. If she stayed put, he would be able to locate her.
What was he like? She scanned the crowd, looking for a man of her own race. He would surely be of African heritage. She prayed that he would be understanding about her new position with the Ashland City Ballet. It was only for their Summer Festival. As choreographer, she would be required for auditions and rehearsals, and possibly for the run of the festival. Marina always danced in the productions she choreographed, and was anxious to begin work on this one. She'd be gone three months, tops. But what if he didn't agree?
Marina turned to her comp pad, losing herself in notes for the production they had chosen to highlight this year's Festival. Minutes stretched. An hour passed. Then another. In horror, Marina looked around. The gardens were empty, and the last of the participants were filing out the gate, leaving their names and the names of their partners with the volunteers. She was alone. Unclaimed.
Long after the volunteers had bundled up their table and departed, casting sympathetic looks her direction, Marina sat in the City Gardens, waiting in the darkness for her mate to come. * * * *
Conrad Montgomery was dangling upside down from the twenty-first story of the Harbor Building when the Imperative hit. And hit it did, slamming like a fist to the groin and a fireball to his heart. Con was profoundly grateful for the safety harness that held him snugly in place.
Shaking, he lowered himself to the bamboo scaffolding he used when he worked. Scattered before him were the saws, nippers and other tools he needed to trim and secure the exotic stone inlay for this particular project. He cut the basic patterns in his workshop, and then refined them up here as they were set into place. Con's workmanship was so fine and rare that he never used adhesives. His inlays held through precision and craftsmanship. He was now finishing the contract, putting the final embellishments on the crown of fiery haired Apollo who graced the building and gleamed in the sun.
Con's hands were trembling too badly to continue working. His balance was shot to hell. He'd thought it would never happen. At thirty-two, he had begun to think he was too old, that the Imperative had skipped him. His brother and sister had mated years ago, leaving Con the bachelor uncle.
He reached into the pocket of his jeans and fished out a velvet pouch. Inside the pouch was a pendant. A perfect, clear blue-green aquamarine he'd purchased for his mate years ago. He'd seen the cut stone at a gem show. It had called to him, whispering of his future love. Con's subtle precognitive sense had kicked in overtime, so he'd purchased the stone and had it set in an ornate white gold setting. He knew her eyes would be as vivid blue as the stone. She would be a cool beauty, a vibrant contrast to his sun-darkened skin and blue-black hair. Grinning, he kissed the stone and returned it to his pocket. * * * *
Con arrived early, pushing his way into the Gardens, tilting his head, listening. No call yet, so he entertained himself watching others wander in, most with eager looks of anticipation, others looking dismayed. Every time a new woman entered the gate, his heart quickened, his eyes darted in that direction. But somehow, he missed her.
Con straightened on the bench, certain that he felt a calling tickling the back of his head. He rose, and was briefly distracted when he saw Antonella Sillis in the arms of a pretty redhead. He grinned. He'd slept with Nella just last week, but it looked like she was through with men.
The buzz now seemed to be coming from elsewhere, so he scanned the crowd, not seeing the source. He wandered, homing in on it, and then lost it again. He turned in another direction, and then back again. It was strong now, coming from first one direction, then the other. Damn! Why didn't she just stay still? Finally, in frustration, he clasped the necklace in his pocket and closed his eyes, trusting his inner senses to lead him.
Con moved slowly, opening his eyes for occasional reference. Once, he bumped into a stone bench, almost treading on a pair of coffee brown feet that quickly slipped out of his way. The buzz became stronger, more intense, finally holding still as he approached. His cock swelled, rose, acting with a will of its own. Bemusedly, he thought it was like a witching stick seeking out water in the desert. He allowed it to lead him.
His eyes were closed, shutting out all the other distractions, focusing only on this single line of resonance. Con clenched his hands as he came to a stop, smelling, feeling and knowing he stood before his mate. He looked into bemused eyes, as blue as the sky above. As blue as the stone clenched in his fist. Lush, wavy hair as auburn as a redwood. Creamy, unfreckled skin and a face as lovely as he could ever have hoped. His heart skipped a beat in answer to his mate's eyes as they widened in perfect understanding. Perfect recognition.
Con's fingers loosened on the aquamarine, the chain sliding loose and the stone falling deeper into his pocket. He stepped forward into the arms of the man he would live with forever.