Havoc

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by Linda Gayle


  “It’s not true. Physical beauty is only one aspect of the games. Ability to orgasm, powerfully and repeatedly, and to bring one’s partner or partners to orgasm is the most valued talent.”

  She had done her research. “And you’d be my gamespartner, is that it?”

  “Yes.” She trembled noticeably, braving his frank perusal. He rolled his gaze over her, from her silky, straight hair the black of deep space, to her delicate face, ample tits, small waist, and long, slender legs. She was quite a gorgeous bird, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it.

  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and began to walk in a circle around her, close enough that his shoulder brushed hers. She twitched but held still. He slid his hand around her waist and felt her heat through the thin material of her suit. When he stood in front of her again, he smoothly bent to kiss her, but as he had figured she would, she flinched away.

  Not lifting his head, he smiled. “Luv, if we’re going to be gamespartners, we’ll have to get used to each other.”

  She stepped out of his grasp. “Not until you give me a firm answer. Not until we’ve won back your ship. Until then, we do nothing.”

  Straightening, he dragged on his cig. “Hm. All right, I’ll play along. How do we win back the Nova?”

  “You wager for it. Jarouk. This time, I will help you.”

  “Help how?”

  Her fingers clenched and unclenched, and her gaze dropped. Classic tells of lying. “I have a patch that will make you resistant to the jarouki toxin.”

  “Never heard of such a thing. How’d you get your hands on it?”

  Those striking green-gold eyes flashed at him. A promising bit of temper there. “It doesn’t matter. I have it, and it will help you win, without anyone knowing the difference.”

  “Well, luv, Ulvik’s a mean old scrag. If he figures we’ve skunked him, we’ll both be goners. Lucky if he just vaporizes us. More likely we’d be handed over to slavers. He’s got that kind of humor about him.”

  “You must trust me. It’s the only way.”

  “Ah. Trust.” He snubbed out his cig and went for his yare again. He was mellowing pleasantly and finding he liked the looks of this girl more and more. Certainly it’d be no hardship to fuck her, and it would be business. Keeva would understand. He wondered what Elion would think of this deal.

  Surprised to find he’d already half accepted her proposal, he finished his drink in one gulp and tossed the glass onto his chair. “I don’t do anything without consulting my first mate. If you’re serious about this, meet us tomorrow at the Spiker’s Lounge, around ten-hour. We’ll talk details then.”

  She gave a brilliant smile. Saints, she could make a gelded Quitza come with that face. “Thank you, Captain. I knew you were the right choice.”

  He walked her the few steps to the door, one hand hovering at the small of her back. At the door, he set his hand on her waist, and she turned to him, aglow with her success.

  “Now, princess,” he said, almost hating himself for dimming that glow, “I’ve not said yes yet. Don’t get your hopes up. Elion’s the sensible one. He’ll most likely talk me out of this tomorrow.”

  “I cannot believe he would refuse the opportunity to regain your ship.”

  Kels cocked a brow. “There’s no such thing as a sure thing. Besides”—he ran his palm down to her hip, pulling her to him—“how do you know we’ll mesh as gamespartners? There’s more to it than fucking. The best partners develop a bond, a deep one. High gamers are often life mates, you know.”

  Her muscles tensed, and she licked her lips nervously. He squeezed lightly, and what little space remained between their bodies disappeared. Their thighs touched, then their hips, enough that she’d feel his rigid cock pressing into her belly. Sayal put her hands on his chest, as if she might push him away. A pretty bird, indeed, but she gave every sign of being inexperienced, and that wouldn’t do.

  “I sense…” she began, her voice breathless, “we would do well together.”

  “Really?” Nudging a finger beneath her chin, he bent and kissed her, no gentle first exploration, but a full, wet sucking of her lips into his, his tongue sweeping, then demanding entrance, devouring her mouth while she made little mewling sounds and braced against his restraining grip. His other hand burrowed into her hair to hold her still. Sayal held stiff with shock. Then…yes…the moment of surrender. With a small sigh, she pressed up into his assault, her lips growing soft and supple, her breasts rubbing against his chest. He slid his tongue around hers once more and withdrew. Best to leave her wanting.

  Her face was flushed, her breathing unsteady. Kels slipped his hand up over her breast and felt the firm nipple against his palm. She allowed it, though she looked about ready to bang out the door and fly.

  Doubtful she realized what she was in for. In the sex department, he figured she was more talk than action, and when he moved his palm in slow circles over the tight nip, the nervous flutter of her lashes did nothing to dissuade him from that notion. “Have you done much gameswork, luv?”

  “N-no.” She spread her fingers on his chest and closed her eyes, her lips wet and glossy from his kiss. Yeah, his cock would sure like a go at her. He was stone hard, burning for her. She let him play a moment more, then drew away, her eyes glazed, but her gaze steady. “No more of that until our deal is finalized, Captain.”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he propped a shoulder against the door. “All right, then.” He gave her a critical perusal, careful to keep his expression cold. “We might be good fuck mates.”

  His coarse words made her frown, as he had thought they might. Still staring at him as if he might make a grab for her, she gathered up her hair and pulled the hood over her head. It hardly gave her any anonymity, he’d hate to tell her. With a body like that and those gemstone eyes, she’d stand out in any crowd.

  “Until tomorrow, Captain Havoc.”

  “G’bye, princess.” He let her slip out the door, then laughed softly to himself when it shut. Elion would have his ass in a sling when he dropped this on him. Least he’d got a hot kiss and a copped feel out of it.

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  Chapter Two

  “No, no, and no.” Without even looking at Kels, Elion shoveled his breakfast of eggs and cheese into his mouth. If he looked at his captain, he’d give in, and there was no way he would back down on this one.

  “C’mon, El. At least wait till you meet her. She’s quite a looker.”

  “You mentioned that already. Several times,” he said drily, risking a sideways glance. Kels sat beside him with his coffee mug raised halfway to his lips, his thick hair ruffled as if he’d just fallen out of bed—which was likely—his shirt open roguishly at the throat, and his eyes filled with stars. Elion knew that look. When it came to pretty girls, Kels’s otherwise-keen brain took a dive into deep space. “If she’s so fixed on hitching a ride, why isn’t she here yet? It’s past ten-hour.”

  But Kels had focused on something across the room, and Elion’s stomach sank when Kels waved to the latest being to enter the noisy tin-walled cafe. Kels grinned at him. “Y’see? There she is, and it’s exactly ten-hour, I’ll have you know.”

  Elion grumbled and hunched over his meal. Duck eggs, again. Why had ducks had to prove so amenable to offworld breeding? What he wouldn’t give for a fresh piece of fish. Or steak. Or tofu, to be honest. On their limited budget, it’d been nothing but duck for days. He turned, spork raised, to remind Kels of their farking financial state, but he’d already gone to greet this woman, this impoverished waif his softhearted captain truly needed to turn down.

  Slouched, he watched as Kels embraced her. Yeah. She was a looker, as promised. Crack. Shiny ebony hair, naturally red lips—lush, of course—fetching eyes, and a body to kill for. He’d heard all about the skin suit she’d worn last night. Today she’d abandoned that in favor of sleek fawn leather pants, boots, and a tight-fitting green blouse that set off the forest tones o
f her eyes. Elion sighed. How could he compete with that?

  Hand at her back, Kels herded her to the table. She grinned, and Elion’s mood got a little more gravelly.

  “Good morning, sir,” she said, smiling uncertainly, and held out her hand.

  “Yeah.” He kept chewing and gave Kels a “you’ve got to be porking me” look.

  Kels trumped that with a “mind your manners” glare, and Elion gave her a limp hand to shake.

  “This is Sayal Iluma,” Kels said, pulling out a seat for their would-be passenger. “Sayal, this is—”

  “Elion Andervaars, first mate,” she said, interrupting. “Former lieutenant of the five hundred forty-fourth squadron, Terran Armada, Omega system. Wounded in the Battle of Aleppo, discharged with full honors.”

  Kels dropped into the seat next to Sayal. “Told you she’d done her research.”

  Elion sighed and leaned back in the uncomfortable booth. “It’s a little suspicious, isn’t it? She knows so much about us, but we know nothing about her.”

  Kels quirked a shrug. “Not our business, if she’s going to be a passenger.”

  “And a gamespartner.” Unsmiling, Elion arched a brow at the woman. “Want to elaborate on that, Ms. Iluma?”

  “I believe that’s business between your captain and me,” she replied, visibly cooling.

  “If it involves my boss, it’s my business too.” He jerked his thumb at Kels. “We’re partners, get it?”

  “In everything?” she asked, then took Kels’s coffee and sipped from it, the bold brat. Elion felt unrighteous possessiveness rising in him. He’d never liked Keeva, and here came another one, elbowing her way right in. She wouldn’t be easy to dump; he could see that right away.

  “Sometimes,” he muttered, leaning forward on his elbows.

  Kels raised his hands. “Okay, you two, ice it before you start a brawl. Not that I’m not flattered by two gorgeous people fighting over me, but this isn’t the venue.”

  Elion was surprised at how hard his heart was beating. Something about this bird really set him off. “No need to get ruffled, Kels,” he said, spearing his spork into the greasy eggs. “But if she’s got no iron and wants to fuck her way across the SenVerse, I was just wondering what I get out of the deal.”

  He heard her sharp intake of breath, a satisfying gasp, and focused on eating rather than smirking. By the saints, he couldn’t remember disliking anyone so intensely from the start. It had to be the way Kels had oozed about her beauty, then practically plastered himself to her side. She wasn’t worthy of him, or least off, she hadn’t proved it yet.

  Kels’s tone was subzero. “If I say we take her, we take her.”

  Sayal shook her head. He saw the fringe of black hair dancing in the border of his vision. “No, Captain. If your first mate objects so strongly, then I cannot impose. It’s true what he says. I have only a hundred bits to pay you with now, although a substantial fee would be given to you once we reach the Zone, and we would be winning prizes in the games, should we join as partners. I don’t mean to…fuck my way, as he says, but that is part of the deal.” Her voice lowered to a sympathetic pitch clearly directed just at Elion. “I would not want to jeopardize your partnership. Or your friendship.”

  Midchew, Elion stared at her. Something about her tone hinted at more than her mere words. Did she know he’d been crushing on his captain for the past five years? Ever since the one drunken night in a tiny jail cell in Ivega when…well, when he’d been able to fool himself that maybe Kels felt something for him too. In the morning, when they’d sobered, Kels hadn’t seemed to remember much of what had happened. Or had pretended not to.

  Elion’s heart had broken, but in retrospect, he knew it was for the best. They couldn’t be captain and mate and also be lovers. It would get too tangled, and Elion valued Kels’s friendship, as Sayal might have intuited, above all else. Besides, Kels had a voracious appetite for pretty female flesh, as evidenced by this bird gazing at him expectantly. Her lovely face gave away nothing. Either she was a very good con, or… He finished chewing and chased the eggs with cold coffee.

  Kels said, “Just hear her out. You know I wanted to go to the Zone anyhow, and she has a plan for getting the Nova back.”

  “Mm, the venom buster.”

  “Yes,” she said, growing animated again. “A patch I’ve acquired. It will offset the jarouki toxin. Even if he plays poorly, he’ll outlast his opponent and win by default.”

  “And when Ulvik sees Kels isn’t sweating after a few stings, he’ll… What? Let him walk away with the Nova?”

  Sayal cradled Kels’s coffee cup between her slender hands. “It won’t be that obvious. The poison will affect him, just not as strongly. Perhaps you can fake it.”

  “Fake jarouki poisoning?” Kels grinned. “Not a problem. It’s not like I haven’t been through it more than a few times.”

  “Can’t fake his hand, though,” Elion said. “What if he loses early, before he has the chance to put Ulvik under the table?”

  Sayal’s pretty lips tightened. “That is true, Captain. Do you feel confident you can win?”

  “Against Ulvik?” He tapped the tabletop. “Odds are good.”

  He was posturing for his girl, Elion could see. Pointing his spork at him, Elion said, “And if you lose? What have we got to gamble with? It’ll have to be something as valuable as the Nova, or Ulvik won’t bite.”

  Kels rubbed his chin. “Mm, true.” He glanced at Sayal, who looked blank. He sucked air through his teeth and turned to Elion. “You know…there’s one thing Ulvik’s always wanted.”

  Crack and ruin… “No, Kels. Absolutely not.”

  “C’mon. I won’t lose. Trust—”

  “Don’t start with that. I said no. I can’t even believe you’d ask me.”

  “But I’ll win, and we’ll have the Nova back, and we can fly to the Zone, get our pay, and be back in business.”

  “Why’s it have to be my ass on the line?”

  Sayal glanced from him to Kels and back. “What? What’s he going to put on the line?”

  “His ass.” Kels gestured at Elion. “Literally. Ulvik’s always wanted to fuck him.”

  Elion groaned and scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.

  Sayal said, “No, that’s unacceptable. I couldn’t allow you to take such a risk.”

  “Thank you,” Elion remarked.

  “I wouldn’t let it get that far,” Kels hedged. “We could drug Ulvik or something, make him think he’d got a piece of you.” He reached over and clapped a big hand on Elion’s shoulder. “You think I’d let anyone violate my first mate? Least not without your permission.”

  He really could be insufferable sometimes. “Even Ulvik wouldn’t see my ass”—he stressed the distasteful words—“in the same lane as the Nova. Be real.”

  “I don’t know.” Kels took his coffee back from Sayal and finished it, like they were some old couple out for fifth-day brunch. “Not like he’s done much with the ship ‘cept let her rot in his back lot. You and I both know he just wanted to humiliate me.”

  “He had his reasons,” Elion reminded him.

  Kels pulled a face and waved him off. “How was I supposed to know she was his daughter? In any case, she came on to me.”

  Sayal watched this exchange wide-eyed. They lapsed into silence. Kels, Elion knew, waited for him to break, as he so often did. Oh, saints. Now he gave Elion the dew-puppy eyes, the look he couldn’t resist.

  “Stop looking at me that way,” he snapped.

  “Like what?” Kels tipped his head, half-joking, half-pleading. It wouldn’t work this time. Even the Nova wasn’t worth risking a fuck with the scraggin’ inkman.

  “Why don’t you offer him your ass?” Elion suggested politely. “I’ve seen him give you a look or two. He’s probably got quite an interesting dick, with all the inkwork he does.”

  “Maybe I will.” Kels shrugged.

  From bad to worse. Elion sighed and scratched his
fingers over his scalp.

  “Truly,” Sayal cut in, “I don’t mean to cause this friction between you. Believe me when I say this will be worth your while.”

  Elion said, “What’s so important that you need to get to the high games, sweetheart? That’s another thing. You need creds to gain invite. The high gamesmasters don’t let just any bird or bloke into their Dome. It’s exclusive. Very.”

  She withered in her seat. “I have reason to believe I will be admitted.”

  “Inside contact?” Kels asked hopefully.

  She barely nodded.

  “But why?” Elion pressed. “You still haven’t given a reason. You could fuck out a living here or on the Rim. Anywhere’s safer than the Zone, and I’m sure you’d have no trouble getting a partner.”

  Her gaze dropped. “I cannot answer that now. Only know that my goal demands I reach the high games. I promise, if there were any other way, I would not be here now.”

  “See?” Kels said, as if that explained it all.

  Thinking with his other head again, apparently. He wanted to grab Kels and shake him. If Elion could see she lied, Kels could too. He couldn’t be that smitten with her, not after one meeting. “I still say no.”

  Sayal pressed her hands together and looked at Kels. He frowned at her, then at Elion, but Elion knew, when push came to shove, Kels would respect his decision. Feeling vaguely guilty at having denied his captain his joy, Elion said, “Look, we don’t know if this patch will work, and even if it does, there are too many other unanswered questions. Like whether you’ll even mesh in the games.” He raised an eyebrow at them. “You haven’t fucked yet, have you?”

  Like scolded children, they shook their heads. “Then,” Elion continued, “we could go through all that bother and have you burn out in the arena.”

  Sayal reached across the table and touched her fingers to his wrist. “What if…” she began. “What if I give you the patch as a gift? If it works, you’ll have your ship, and we move to the next level. Captain Havoc and I will do a test run in the Dome here, in the Dregs. If we do well, then will you at least consider my request?”

 

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