Kieran laid Felice on his bed and pulled cool sheets around her. He adjusted the lights to low, wanting her to rest easy but not to wake in the dark.
As he started to leave the bedroom, Felice made a soft noise in her sleep, a cry of worry, of fear. Kieran paused, watching her. She’d escaped her captivity in body, he understood, but not yet in her head. That would take a long, long time, well he knew.
Felice shivered in spite of the cover Kieran had tucked around her. She was terrified, alone, lost—and brave. She’d faced the unknown to escape, and had found herself here with Kieran.
Kieran unfastened his loincloth and let it drop. Naked, he climbed into the bed, spooning behind Felice and drawing her against his body. He sent his Shareem pheromones over her to ease her, soothe her.
Her shivering calmed. Felice never woke but relaxed into Kieran, drawing a long, relieved breath. Kieran, tired himself, forgot all about Rees and the mission to find a transport to take Shareem off Bor Narga, forgot about everything but Felice’s scent, her warmth. For the first time in a very long time, Kieran felt loose and contented, and it wasn’t far from there to a dark, deep sleep.
*** *** ***
Felice awoke in a dimly lit bedroom, but she wasn’t alone. A heavy body lay behind her, a protective arm around her. He snored.
Kieran.
Felice could slip out of bed, steal some of his clothes, and run, flee. Slavery was technically illegal on Bor Narga, and if she could find the right legal counsel, she could be free of her indenture—which TGH Corp had made clear she’d finish working off around the time of her hundredth birthday. They weren’t slavers per se, they claimed, but they’d piled interest, room, and board on top of the original cost, to keep her working and paying them back the rest of her life.
But she’d had to sign that contract. Felice would do it again, in the same circumstances. In a heartbeat.
Kieran had said he was a slave, so Bor Narga must tolerate some form of servitude. Felice had never heard of Shareem, despite her research into the worlds of this system. Then again, she’d only been able to snatch quick sessions at any terminal, downloading everything she could to the microdot she’d managed to smuggle out when she’d fled. If facts about Shareem were restricted, chances of her coming across the information were small.
Felice could sneak away from him—she felt better now, the metabolism she’d honed working to return her to full strength . . . but she was so comfortable. She hadn’t slept on a bed this soft in ages. The hard slab of metal on the ship was all she’d had, plus a blanket she’d carted around with her. The blanket had holes, but throwing it away and risking illness hadn’t been an option. Catching a cold in the bowels of a long-haul freighter could mean death.
Felice had been forced to leave everything behind, including her only change of clothes and the blanket, to get away from the freighter when she’d had the chance. The thin sheet over her now, keeping out the dry chill of the bedroom’s air, was the ultimate luxury.
The bed wasn’t huge, and it was crowded by Kieran. He took up a lot of space, but he was comforting. Warm, holding her, rumbling in his sleep. It was like snuggling up to a bear.
Felice was hungry, and more water wouldn’t hurt. She had to figure out what to do about clothes, not to mention a place to go, and money. Slaves were fed—barely—but if Felice was to survive on her own, she had to have cash. She could work; she’d search for a real job, with pay. She might be able to get herself into decent fighting shape again, but she didn’t want to go back to that life. That way lay memories of betrayal and broken dreams.
Would she have to run away from Kieran? Or simply explain she wanted to go?
She remembered the extraordinary sensations that had washed through her when he’d nipped her, and again when he’d kissed down her spine to her buttocks.
If whoever had interrupted hadn’t come to the door, what would have happened? Felice shivered, and not entirely in fear.
The movement made Kieran’s breathing quiet. His eyes opened, blue in the gloom, and he smiled. Instead of saying a word, Kieran gently turned Felice to face him, and he kissed her.
Warm, firm lips parting hers . . . Kieran slid his hand to the back of her neck, drawing her up to him. He kissed her lightly but powerfully, his mouth opening hers, eyes closing as he deepened the kiss. He swept his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, caressing her.
His hand cradling her head kept her from pulling away, but he didn’t pin her, didn’t force her. Felice kissed him back, finding a taste of warm spice and a bite of coffee.
Kieran lightly kissed her upper lip, then he licked it. Next he nibbled both lips, sending pleasant fire through her.
He had such unusual eyes, Felice thought as he looked at her. Felice swore the irises had spread through the whites, but maybe that was a trick of the light.
“I don’t kiss,” Kieran rumbled, as he brushed back a lock of her tangled hair. “I’m a Dom. Not a level one.”
Felice had no idea what this meant. “You just did kiss me,” she pointed out. And she hadn’t minded one bit.
“Yeah, I did.” He gave her a slow smile. “I liked it.”
Felice felt suddenly shy. “I liked it too.”
Kieran firmed his hand behind her neck and pulled her to him again. Their mouths met with more determination this time, Kieran’s lips warm, insistent.
Felice pushed aside her fears and worries and enjoyed the kiss. Nothing existed right now but this man, whoever he was, his hot kiss in the darkness, his body against hers.
Kieran rolled Felice down into the bed and slid on top of her. Their bare bodies met, skin on skin, her breasts against his hard chest, but he did nothing more than kiss her. His hands in her hair were gentle, his mouth giving.
His tenderness made Felice cry. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she tasted salt on her lips.
Kieran raised his head and wiped away a tear with a gentle fingertip. “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m not that bad a level one, am I?”
Felice broke into a laugh, though her face was wet. “I don’t know what a level one is, but you must be prefect at it.”
“Nah, I’m only good at level three. Nothing else.” Kieran kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m very good at level three. I’m the best of the best. I wish I could stay here and show you how good, but . . .” He let out a breath. “But I have to go.”
“Oh.” Disappointment darted through her with a strength that surprised her. “Go where?”
“Out.” Kieran’s eyes shuttered, his warmth dissipating. “I have to talk to someone.”
“Who?” Felice raised up on her elbows in alarm. The authorities? TGH Corp?
“Can’t tell you that.” Kieran looked uncomfortable with the evasion, and Felice’s heart beat faster in fear again. “I’ll try to find you some clothes while I’m gone.”
She swallowed. “Are you going to report me?”
Kieran’s grim look faded to surprise. “Report you? Why should I?”
“Everyone does. Everyone betrays . . . in the end.” She heard the bitterness in her words, and tasted them too.
He stared at her in perplexity. “Shit, woman, what kind of people do you know?” He gave her another brief kiss, letting his tongue flick over her lips, then he rolled off the bed to his feet.
Felice was cold without him. His body had been so warm, a comfort even on this hottest of worlds. “Bad people,” she said. “That’s who I knew.”
“Not anymore.” Kieran studied her for a long moment, then he leaned down, cupped her cheek, and gave her a swift kiss, the pressure of his lips firm. “Damn. I can’t stop kissing you. I want to keep doing it.” Kieran let go of her and straightened up, but slowly, as though reluctant. “So, you stay here, and I’ll be back to kiss you some more. Eat something, and rest.”
Felice’s stomach rumbled. “Is that an order?”
“You’re hungry. And tired. It only makes sense.” His grin flashed. “If you need a Dom tell you what to do,
sweetheart, I’m willing.”
Felice gathered the sheet to her chest as she sat up. “You can’t tell me where you’re going?”
“Nope.” Kieran un-self-consciously pulled on his loincloth and then a tunic he took from a recessed closet. “But I’m coming back. As soon as I can.”
Kieran returned to the bed as he settled the clothes over his delectable body. He leaned to her, brushing Felice with the scent of fresh linen, and kissed her yet again, mouth strong.
Finally he broke away, gave Felice a last look, and left the room.
A wave of heat rushed through the apartment as Kieran exited through the outer door. Then the front door scraped closed, leaving Felice confused and alone in the dark and quiet.
*** *** ***
“Where the fuck have you been?” was Rees’s greeting.
Most days, Rees was easygoing, laid back—which was surprising, considering how fucked up he was inside. DNAmo had given up experimenting on Kieran when they couldn’t make him behave, but they’d done a serious number on Rees. Most Shareem hadn’t known Rees existed until DNAmo had been shut down. Then he’d come out of nowhere, helping them, keeping Shareem together, keeping them alive. They all owed Rees.
Today, Rees’s crazy side looked like it wanted to come out and play. It didn’t often these days, because he had a beautiful lady he’d taken as a lifemate, and she kept him calm. But now, the man was angry.
“I was with a woman,” Kieran said as he took a stool at the corner table in Judith’s bar. “I told Braden.”
“I know, but . . .” Rees let out his breath and sat down, wrapping his hands around an ale container. “Never mind. What did you find out?”
Kieran leaned his bulk against the wall behind him. Judith, the red-haired, fine-bosomed woman who owned this place, set a large glass of ale in front of Kieran and gave him a wide smile.
Judith liked Shareem. Many Shareem—usually all at the same time. Kieran had often spent the night in Judith’s upstairs room, he needing sex to cool his body, she enjoying helping him out.
Lately, though, Judith hadn’t been inviting. She’d taken up with a space pilot called Mitch, a regular human from another world, who came around a lot. Judith apparently liked Mitch more than Shareem, because her wild sessions with Shareem had come to an end.
Too bad, because Kieran enjoyed Judith’s straightforward, no-nonsense attitude toward sex, a rarity on Bor Narga.
Tonight, however, Kieran felt no disappointment that he couldn’t take Judith upstairs and relieve his aching cock. He’d met Felice.
“Kieran.” Rees waved a hand in front of Kieran’s face. “You still with me?”
He was waiting for his report. Kieran took a long drink of ale, then he leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes, and recited all he remembered.
“Seven transports heading for Station 579. All of them C-class, not very big. Two heading toward Sirius, but stopping in about ten ports along the way. Eight of those ports have treaties with Bor Narga and would send us back.”
“In body bags,” Braden said. Kieran didn’t open his eyes, but he heard Braden settle himself on the seat next to him. “Or as little piles of dust.”
“Yeah,” Kieran agreed.
“After that he found a woman and went back home,” Braden said, humor in his voice. “Better things to do than poke around dockyards.”
Kieran shrugged. He kept his eyes closed, savoring the memory of waking up wrapped around Felice. He rarely slept with his women—he did his job and left them, no matter how much they begged for more. Sleeping with Felice had been . . . nice.
“Kieran,” Rees said again. Kieran opened his eyes and found Rees watching him closely. “This is important.”
“I know.” Kieran swallowed another large mouthful of ale. Judith served it in insulated tankards that kept it cool even under her faulty air conditioning. “I’m screwed up in the head, Rees, not stupid. You mean that if we can’t find transport for everyone, we’re stuck.”
“Sorry,” Rees said, actually looking sorry. Talan was having a good effect on him. “Keep going with your story. You left the dockyards because patrollers found you. What did they say to you?”
Kieran chose his words carefully. “Not a lot. I started talking about sex, and the patroller got nervous and sent my ass out of there.”
“And then you met up with the woman?”
Was it Kieran’s imagination or was Rees watching him in suspicion? “Yes,” Kieran said. “Found her. Took her home.” He almost said did her, but that would be a lie, and Rees would know. Rees always knew when Kieran was lying.
“Took her home,” Rees repeated without inflection. “To your place.”
“Yes, my place. It’s home, as shitty as it is. So what?”
“You didn’t take her to a hotel or to her house? Or to the pleasure palace? What I mean is, you didn’t take her someplace special.”
“This was different.” Kieran swallowed another drink, wiped his mouth, and fixed Rees with a scowl. “Hey, do I grill you every time you have a woman? Do I ask what you and Talan get up to in her mansion on the hill?”
“No,” Rees said. “But you usually describe in pretty good detail everything you do to your women, so that any sad Shareem who had no sex that day can get it vicariously. Why the sudden discretion?”
Kieran set down his tankard. “Listen, I promise, the woman I was with doesn’t know anything about why I went to the docks. She doesn’t have anything to do with patrollers, and she won’t mess us up. All right?”
Rees watched Kieran for a long time, Braden tense between them. Finally Rees gave Kieran a nod and lifted his own tankard. “All right.”
Braden let out his breath, while Kieran took a noisy sip of ale, as though unworried.
Rees wasn’t satisfied, Kieran could see, but at least he shut up. Rees was too damn clever for his own good, though, and would probably try to find out who Felice was another way.
Kieran set down his tankard. “You know what the difference is between you and me?” he asked Rees. “I’ll tell you. It’s that DNAmo tried to make me more and more mindless and you smarter and smarter. Backfired both times, didn’t it?” He laughed, as though he’d already forgotten the whole conversation.
Rees at least grinned with him. “It did, my friend,” he said. “It truly did.”
*** *** ***
Kieran took Judith aside before he left and asked in a low voice whether he could borrow some of her coveralls.
Judith grinned. “For you? Don’t think they’ll fit.”
“For a lady. Her clothes got ruined.”
Judith looked interested. “Really? Doing fun stuff with you? Is she gorgeous?”
“Yeah.” Kieran couldn’t stop his smile. Felice with her sweet body, no matter about the cruel scars, was a pretty one. He looked forward to seeing that body again, scenting her, tasting her . . .
“Calm down,” Judith said, and Kieran knew his eyes had gone bluer, his skin hotter under Judith’s touch. “Sure, the coverall. Want me to come over with it? Mitch doesn’t like me with Shareem anymore, and I’m fine with it, but he’s not as worried about my occasional enjoyment with something female.”
“She’s not into that,” Kieran said quickly. Kieran had no idea whether Felice was into women—he hadn’t asked her. But he felt a deep need to keep Felice away from the rest of the Shareem, and even Judith. He wanted to get to know Felice himself before he let any of the others see her. “I’ll just take the coverall.”
Judith winked at him. “I’m teasing you, Kieran. You be alone with her, if that’s what you need.”
She led Kieran up the stairs to her apartment above the bar. The other Shareem watched them go, some of them silently saluting Kieran, thinking they were heading upstairs for other reasons.
“What do you mean you’re fine with it that Mitch doesn’t want you with other Shareem?” Kieran demanded as Judith rummaged in her closet. “You’re kidding, right? You love Shareem.
”
“I do.” Judith turned around with two pairs of coveralls, one over each arm. “But Mitch is a good guy. I don’t want to mess things up with him.” Her voice took on a little tremor.
Hmm. Interesting. Yesterday, Kieran might not have understood what Judith worried about, but today he did.
“Thanks, Judith.” Kieran took the coveralls then pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. Used to be, he’d automatically turn the kiss into a seductive invitation.
Not this time. He kept the kiss friendly, wadded the coveralls into a ball, and left her.
*** *** ***
Felice’s sense of self-preservation, honed by years of keeping herself out of the path of the crueler crew chiefs, told her to escape the minute Kieran left her alone. Her calmer sense told her he was right that she needed to eat something.
With Kieran gone, being naked lost its appeal. Kieran’s words and caresses had made Felice stop minding, but now she shivered as she dug through his closet.
The way he’d touched her, the things he’d said to her . . .
Her body was still hot, and she wanted release. Felice wasn’t a virgin, but she hadn’t had any sexual encounters in a long, long time.
Any thoughts of sex had been pushed far away as she’d concentrated on survival. And, thank all the gods, one huge rule of TGH Corp was that indentured servants couldn’t be forced to or required to have sex. Not because the company was moral, but because the worker needed to be strong and ready for labor at any time. Not to mention the risk of the worker getting pregnant or diseased. TGH Corp didn’t want to have to pay for anything like that.
Kieran was a survivor too, Felice understood as she looked around his tiny, very basic apartment. But he seemed to believe that survival was not enough. Even in this cramped space, warm from the heat outside, he’d let her know that he could give her any pleasure she wished. She shivered again.
Felice searched until she found a tunic small enough not to fall off her. It must be short on Kieran, but it covered Felice nearly to her knees.
She settled the tunic and went to his kitchen, another cramped space that was nothing more than cupboards and a food heater. It looked like Kieran existed on dried things in packets, she decided after looking through the cupboards. Felice dimly remembered, so long ago and far away it might have been a dream, laughing and talking in a huge kitchen, while things sizzled on an indoor grill, and wine flowed.
Kieran Page 4