He nodded at Need who nodded back again with perfect assurance. Clearly he knew what he was doing, Lan’ara thought. She found such self-confidence admirable—not to mention extremely attractive.
She had a sudden impulse to reach across the table and take his hand, just to feel their fingers intertwine. Her own hand was halfway across the table when she remembered that he had vowed not to touch her and she pulled back with a deep feeling of regret.
“And secondly,” Captain Glo’ll continued. “If you haven’t met her yet, I would like to introduce you to this young meat-based female who goes by the charming name of…” He looked at her. “Excuse me, my dear—it was abominably rude of him but I don’t believe First Mate Needrix told me your name.”
“Lan’ara,” she said quickly. “If it please you, my Lord Captain, my name is Lan’ara.”
Glo’ll nodded approvingly.
“Her name is Lan’ara,” he repeated loudly, as though making sure everyone had heard. “She will only be with us for a short time, but she is under Needrix’s protection and I understand she’ll be helping out with the cooking, since none of you have the good sense to eat soil and drink nutritious mud-water as I do.”
There were murmurs of approval and Laxah said, “I’ve told you before, Captain—we meat-based creatures can’t live on dirt and mud—it’s physically impossible.”
“Ah, but have you even tried it?” Glo’ll demanded. “No! Just like none of you will try budding instead of inserting your poky parts into the moist cavities of others and thrusting back and forth in that ridiculous ritual you call ‘making sex.’” He shook his head, his leaves rustling like a tree’s in a high wind. “All I’m saying is give budding a chance sometime, that’s all.”
Laxah rolled her eyes but said nothing more. She and Need exchanged a glance which seemed to say, Here we go again… It gave Lan’ara the idea that the Cytovian captain had said these things many times before to his crew and they pretty much ignored him.
“Anyway, it’s nice to have a new set of hands helping with the cooking,” Psoas remarked, stretching his long torso across the table so he could look more easily at Lan’ara. “We look forward to seeing what kind of sweets you make.”
“Psoas has a terrible sweet-tooth,” Laxah remarked. “He can eat as many sweets as he wants and never gain an ounce.”
“Guilty!” Psoas grinned at her and bobbed his head, his neck stretching comically with the gesture. “If you can make small cakes you’ll be my new favorite person.”
“We did have a special class in making sweet treats at the academy,” Lan’ara told him. “Let me know if you have a special recipe you want me to use. Otherwise, I’ll see what I can whip up myself.”
Psoas’s pink eyes glowed with pleasure.
“I’ll take you up on that! I haven’t had decent small cakes in ages—not since I left my home world. But I do still have my mater’s recipe. I’ll give you a copy of it.”
“I’ll be pleased to make them for you,” Lan’ara promised. It couldn’t hurt to make friends with as many people as she could aboard the ship, she reasoned. And besides, she genuinely liked baking and cooking for people, just as she had enjoyed making little treats for her four brothers before she’d had to leave home.
“If you’re going to make small cakes for Psoas, what about making us a batch of jim-jams?” Kreeva, the female half of the Duplo asked.
“Oh, jim-jams—I love jim-jams!” Krax, the male half exclaimed.
“I know,” Kreeva said dryly. “It’s one of the few things we agree on.”
“That’s not true!” Krax exclaimed.
“Is too.” Kreeva glared at him.
“Don’t start arguing again, you two,” Need growled. “I’m sure the girl will be happy to make your Goddess-damned jim-jams as long as we have the ingredients on board.”
“I’ll be pleased to,” Lan’ara said quickly, wishing he would call her by name instead of just “the girl.” She looked at Laxah. “Is there anything I can make for you?”
Laxah looked at her appraisingly.
“I do have a certain fondness for chieva brittle, but it’s a fairly advanced technique.”
“I can try it,” Lan’ara offered. “As long as you give me the recipe—”
“I notice you didn’t ask what you could make for me, girly. So you didn’t,” Drung’s hoarse, snorting voice rang out above the other conversation. “But that don’t matter,” he went on when Lan’ara looked up at him, feeling a sick coldness in the pit of her stomach. “For I’m sure that nothing you could make by hand would taste as sweet as your own little pussy.”
“That’s enough!” Need growled, glaring at the Trollox. “Treat her with respect, you big bastard!”
“Like you are, I’m sure,” Drung sneered. “Tell me, Kindred—did you taste her cunt honey? And has it sweetened up yet? That’s a sign, so it is. A sign that her Ripening is nigh. Oh, but you wouldn’t know about that because you don’t have her file.”
“You bastard.” Need rose from his chair, his face filled with cold fury. “You keep the girl’s name out of your mouth and any thoughts of her out of your filthy mind! I told you before, she belongs to me.”
“More’s the pity for her, so it is,” Drung snorted. “For how is the girly ever to get any relief for her cravings when you don’t even know how to sate them? She’ll be in pain, soon enough, so she will. Just turn her over to me for one night—I’ll satisfy her if you can’t.”
As he spoke, he leered at Lan’ara, cupping his crotch and drooling through his yellow tusks in a way that turned her stomach. She looked away quickly, not wanting to see those piggy little eyes trained on her.
“That’s enough of that,” Captain Glo’ll remarked sternly, before Need could reply. “Last Meal is hereby adjourned. Everyone back to your posts and batten down for the night. I’ll see you all again tomorrow.”
Still glaring balefully at the Trollox, Need rose and pulled out Lan’ara’s chair, helping her to her feet. It was a possessive gesture, she thought—as was the heavy, muscular arm he encircled her shoulders with.
She didn’t mind, though. It was only when he was holding her that she felt safe from the disgusting lust of the Trollox. She only wished he would touch her when Drung wasn’t threatening her—touch her because he wanted to.
But no—why was she thinking this way? Why was she so desperate for the big Kindred’s touch? Could it have something to do with the “touch cravings” Drung had mentioned?
Oh, how she wished she could read her own file or had ever read it before. But a student’s file was strictly confidential at Twyleth Tigg and she was never allowed to see what was written in it—it was only for the school nurse and the male who bought her to look at.
Whether the ugly Trollox was telling the truth or not, it was far better she should keep her distance from Need, Lan’ara told herself sternly. That way she would be more likely to keep her virtue—what remained of it, anyway—intact, until she reached Genu Six.
It didn’t seem to matter what she told herself, though. Lan’ara still found herself snuggling close to the big Kindred, breathing in his spicy fragrance and loving the feel of his big, strong arm encircling her as they left the dining area.
She wished the way he was holding her could last forever.
Nineteen
Need let his arm drop and took a step back from the girl as soon as they got back to his quarters. He liked touching her too damn much—enjoyed the feel of her soft, curvy body pressed against him much more than he should.
Besides, he had sworn never to touch her again right before dinner—he had even made certain to sit across from her instead of beside her, so he wouldn’t be tempted to take her hand or put an arm around her.
But when that fucking Trollox had started eyeing her and insulting her, Need hadn’t been able to help himself. A protective Rage had risen within him and the need to keep her close had overcome his self-control. He had forgotten his promises and
simply reached out to bring her close—his need to protect her and claim her as his own too overwhelming to deny.
“Sorry,” he told her roughly as he stepped away. “I know I promised not to touch you again.”
“I…I don’t mind, my Lord,” she said softly, looking up at him. “I don’t mind a bit.”
“Well, I mind,” Need said, frowning. “When I give my word, I at least try to keep it.”
“Yes, my Lord.” She cast her eyes down and looked miserable—at least Need thought she did. “My Lord,” she said after a moment. “Do…do you think there was any truth to what the Trollox said?”
“All that crap he was spouting about having your file, you mean?” Need asked, frowning.
She nodded hesitantly.
“I was thinking more about the other things he said,” she admitted softly. “About…about what he said about me…ripening.”
“You mean all that about how your cunt honey would turn sweet?” Need asked. “Don’t forget, I tasted your honey myself, girl. It was sweet to the tongue but mostly salty, I can tell you that for sure.”
“It’s not just that,” she whispered. “He said…said something about me being…being in pain.”
“Are you in any pain?” Need demanded, feeling a sudden stab of anxiety.
She bit her lip and shook her head.
“Not like any pain I’ve ever felt before.”
Which wasn’t exactly a “no.”
“What’s wrong then, girl?” he asked impatiently. “I’ll try to do right by you if you just tell me—remember I promised you that.”
Lan’ara shook her head quickly.
“Nothing, I’m sure, my Lord. I…I’m just tired, that’s all. It has been a very long day.”
Which was the absolute truth. Lan’ara still couldn’t believe that it was only that morning when the big Kindred had bid on her and bought her. The memory of the slave auction seemed to be fuzzy with time already. Maybe it was her mind screening it out—a kind of defense mechanism. The way it mostly screened out the memory that her mother and little brothers were gone. It was easier not to think of some things, Lan’ara had found.
Much easier.
“Don’t blame you for being tired, after the day you’ve had,” Need remarked. “I’ll try to find you something to sleep in.”
“Thank you, my Lord.” Lan’ara nodded at him.
He hesitated. “You had a bath earlier but I don’t know how much, er, bathing you actually got done with those damn blossoms going at you. Would you like a sonic shower before bed?”
Lan’ara felt her cheeks get hot when she remembered the way the wash blossoms had sucked and tasted her. Her nipples and pleasure button throbbed at the memory and she had the feeling of a hungry flower opening between her thighs again.
But she hastily pushed the thoughts away. She needed to be chaste and pure, she reminded herself, for Senator Pouncenblast to want her.
“Well?” Need demanded and she realized she’d never answered his question.
“Oh! Oh, yes, my Lord—a sonic shower would be fine,” she said quickly, though she had no idea what that actually was. Still, it had to be better than letting the wash blossoms suck and taste her—right?
“Fine.” Need nodded shortly. “I’ll find you something to wear, as I said. Then we’ll go down together.”
He went digging in the clothes storage area—which came right out of the wall, Lan’ara saw with fascination—and soon returned with an undershirt of his which seemed to be made of some soft, black material.
“Come on,” he told Lan’ara and led her out of his quarters and down the vine-draped, moss-carpeted hallway.
They went past several metal doors—all wreathed in vines—until they came to a tiny cul-de-sac at the far end of the corridor. It was located in a sheltered corner right across from a huge metal door that looked twice as broad and half again as tall as the others they had passed. It was the only entryway in the ship that Lan’ara had seen which wasn’t framed in vines and leaves and flowers.
“You’re not to come down here by yourself, ever” Need told her sternly as they crowded into the alcove together and Lan’ara looked up at the strange-looking nozzle high on the tiled wall above her.
“Yes, my Lord—but why?” she asked curiously.
As if to answer her question, she heard a tromping tread coming down the long corridor which terminated in the vast, bare metal door.
“Shh!” Need hissed at her and backed her more firmly into the shower stall, shielding her with his muscular form. She could feel his body heat against her skin and she shivered as she pressed close to him. The big Kindred was too tall for her to look over his shoulder, but she peered around his side, keeping well back so that she could catch a glimpse of the hallway without being seen herself.
In a moment the bulky form of Drung came into view, tromping down the vine-covered hallway. He stopped when he saw Need standing there in the doorway to the sonic shower with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Kindred?” he sneered, glaring at Need. “Thought you’d take a chance and try to steal the girly’s file while I was out of my room, did you?”
“Fuck you, Trollox,” Need growled. “I came for a sonic shower, that’s all. The water in my quarters isn’t working right.”
“And did you bring the pretty girly with you?” The Trollox lifted all three of his heads in the air, their pig-snout noses snuffling noisily as if trying to catch Lan’ara’s scent.
“As if I’d bring her anywhere near your stinking cell,” Need sneered. “Go in your room and leave me alone—I’m not here to talk to you.”
“You’ll want to talk to me soon enough—when her Ripening starts. So you will,” Drung predicted, and let out a squealing laugh. “But when you do decide you want a look at her file, there’s going to be a price, so there is.”
“Fuck you and your file,” Need snapped. “I don’t believe you have any such thing.”
“Oh no? Then what’s this?” Opening the door to his room—and letting out a gust of foul-smelling air that nearly made Lan’ara gag—he reached inside and grabbed for something.
He brought out a thin liquid crystal tablet with black edges that Lan’ara recognized at once. Hadn’t she seen the school nurse tapping away on it often enough whenever she conducted Lan’ara’s monthly physical?
Oh my Gods and Goddesses—he really does have my medical file, she thought unsteadily. What could possibly be in there? Maybe something about the shots she had been given on her last night at the academy—the shots that were supposed to make her irresistible to her husband-to-be?
But if Need was as curious as she was, he certainly didn’t show it.
“Get out of here and stop waving that thing in my face,” he growled. “I know good and well you’re bluffing, Trollox. Just steer clear of me and the girl from now on.”
“Bluffing, am I?” An ugly sneer appeared on the piggish face of the middle head. “We’ll see whose bluffing once the girly enters her Ripening, so we will.”
Then he went into his room and slammed the heavy metal door behind him with a reverberating whump that seemed to shake the entire ship.
“Good.” Need breathed a sigh of relief. “At least he didn’t know you were here. Do you see now why you can never come down here without me?”
“Yes, my Lord,” Lan’ara assured him through numb lips. She certainly had no intention of getting anywhere near the huge Trollox’s living quarters on her own—not when it was so very clear he still wanted her.
“Good then.” He turned to her. “All right—what are you waiting for? Strip,” he ordered.
“My Lord?” she asked, looking at him uncertainly.
“I said, how can you take a shower with your clothes on? Or in this case, my clothes on?” he asked impatiently. “Strip, girl.”
“Oh…oh, of course, my Lord.”
She untied the black neck cloth from around her waist and start
ed to unbutton the bronze uniform shirt which she now wore as a dress. Need watched her as though mesmerized by the sight. But when her bare breasts came into view, he abruptly turned, putting his broad back to her.
Lan’ara knew she ought to be grateful for the fact that he was giving her privacy but somehow she didn’t want it. She found she liked the feeling of those warm bronze eyes on her naked flesh—liked it a lot and missed it when he wasn’t looking.
So as soon as she had slipped the shirtdress off and hung it and the sash on a hook embedded in the tiled wall, she tapped him on one broad shoulder.
“Yes, girl? What is it?” He half turned his head to look at her.
“My Lord,” Lan’ara said hesitantly, making no move to cover herself, though his eyes flicked rapidly over her naked body. “I have never had a sonic shower before. I don’t know how…how to work the controls.”
“Oh. Of course.” He frowned and nodded. “Here—I’ll show you.”
He reached into the shower stall with her and began manipulating the metal buttons and lever imbedded in the tile wall.
“See, you have to do it this way…”
Lan’ara nodded her head and made noises of agreement as he explained and showed her, but she wasn’t paying a bit of attention. Instead, she was concentrating on the warmth of his skin so tantalizingly close to her own. Slowly she crept closer, bending over a little as though trying to look at the controls and understand what he was talking about. But in reality, all she wanted was to press her bare breasts against his arm and feel the skin-to-skin contact of his flesh against hers.
She got what she wanted and had to bite her lip to keep from moaning when she felt the hard tips of her nipples rubbing against his muscular forearm. Gods and Goddesses, that felt so good. She couldn’t help remembering the way he’s sucked her nipples earlier—well, the right one, anyway. It had felt amazing to have his hot mouth surrounding her tender peak, his tongue gliding gently over her aching flesh…
She became aware that Need had stopped talking and was just standing there staring at her.
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