Tales of the Shareem, Volume 2

by Allyson James

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “I have things to do.”

  “Wait.” Katarina grabbed his arm. He looked at her hand on the black leather but she didn’t let go. “If you really don’t want me, Calder, I’ll stop. Can’t we at least be friends?”

  “Friends.”

  “You know, say hello to each other when we pass on the street, talk sometimes. Gossip about our other friends.”

  Calder’s face clouded over and he pulled his cloth back into place. “I don’t want to be friends with you.” He turned on his heel and strode off into the night.

  *** *** ***

  Braden made sure he was sated to the gills before he ventured back home to d’Enela Street. He liked the apartment he’d taken over from Rio when Rio had left Bor Narga to be with his honey, but lately being there drove him crazy.

  He’d thought it a good idea to invite lonely Katarina to share the apartment with him. For one thing, he’d get to look at a pretty woman every day, and it might boot Calder’s ass into gear, for another.

  But living with a woman he didn’t fuck was proving to be difficult. Braden was Shareem, after all. Every day he smelled Katarina’s need, every night he tasted her longing on the air. She was in dire need of sating, but she didn’t want Braden to sate her.

  Damn Calder. If the idiot would get off his ass and screw Katarina senseless, the sizzle in the air would ease and Braden could sleep.

  The only solution was for Braden to go out every night and screw as much as he could. Tonight he’d found two women from Ariel, on shore leave from an orbiting freighter. After hauling cargo all day, they thought they wouldn’t find much fun on backwater Bor Narga. Braden had enjoyed proving them wrong.

  When he walked into the apartment, the scent of Katarina’s heightened arousal struck him. Damn it. His cock, which he thought he’d calmed for the night, started to rise again.

  Katarina sat at the kitchen table, her elbows propped on it. A barely touched meal lay in front of her, and her eyes looked suspiciously red.

  Braden could run, could make his way through the streets searching for more horny females until he couldn’t stand up. Instead he dropped into the chair opposite Katarina. “What’s wrong, honey?”

  She scowled up at him. “I hate them.”

  “Hate who?”

  Katarina threw down her fork. “The women who go to Calder. Women who want him to be the Beast.” She sat back. “I have no business caring. He doesn’t want me, and I should let it go.”

  “Calder was here tonight.”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  Braden tapped his nose. “I smell you all wet, and I smell Shareem on you too. What happened?”

  Katarina told him a heartbreaking story of Calder visiting, pleasuring her, and then abruptly leaving. She wasn’t specific about the pleasuring, but Braden had a good imagination.

  “Want me to talk to him?” Braden offered.

  He knew he could never understand all that Calder had gone through, but Braden was getting pissed off at him. Calder tried too hard to push everyone away. He continually tried to push Braden away, and Braden would laugh but give him space for a while. Calder needed friends.

  “No,” Katarina answered. “What I want is to forget about him.”

  Braden reached for her hand. “I’ve offered to help you do that.”

  She shook her head. “As mad as I am at Calder, he’s right about a couple of things. One, I have no business wanting to have intercourse with a Shareem, and two, you flit from woman to woman without thought.”

  “He said that?” Braden asked, stung, then he had to swallow his pride. “It’s true that I don’t have a history of being a one-woman guy. And if you’re still a virgin, I might hurt you without meaning to. Level threes get rough. We don’t know how not to be.”

  Her blush told him she didn’t find that as frightening as she should. “I never even wanted intercourse with a human. I never wanted to marry.”

  “Never? Highborn women are supposed to pick out men with good genetic histories and make more highborn babies.”

  Pain entered her eyes. “Maybe I mean I never met a man I wanted to marry. I want more than what I see my friends have. Their husbands spend all their money and hang around like lap dogs.”

  Braden had a swift vision of pale, wimpy highborn men in collars curled up on cushions, whining. He burst out laughing.

  “You’d rather have a Shareem on your leash, would you, sweetie?”

  “What I want is what my parents had. They were happy together—friends as well as lifemates. There was no superior and inferior. They were partners.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. Katarina had told Braden the story—her parents had loved each other, and they’d died together. Leaving her alone.

  Braden touched her hand. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

  Katarina swiped her tears away. She didn’t like self-pity, he’d come to know.

  “The only reason I’m interested in Shareem is to make sure they’re treated well at the clinic.” Katarina’s eyes widened, and she glanced at the digital on the wall. “Oh crud, I’m supposed to be at the clinic in ten minutes.” She jumped to her feet and rushed to her room for her robes.

  “It’s the middle of the night,” Braden pointed out when she emerged.

  “I have the night shift this week. People get sick around the clock.” Katarina threw on her robes and veil, masking her pretty body and face. “I’ll try not to make too much noise when I come back.”

  Braden got himself out of the chair. “You’re not walking to the clinic by yourself,” he said. “This isn’t the safest neighborhood.”

  She gave him a startled look over her veil, but didn’t argue.

  They didn’t speak much as they walked the few blocks. Braden gave Katarina a tight hug before he left her at the door then made his way back to Judith’s bar.

  “Rees,” he sang out as he moved through the crowd. “Just the Shareem I want to see.” He slid into the seat opposite Rees and winked at Talan. “You still good at messing up computers, my friend?”

  Rees gave him a nod. “I keep my hand in.”

  At DNAmo, Rees had driven his creators crazy by futzing computers and frying door locks and surveillance equipment, turning the tables on the researchers who tried to contain and monitor him. Sometimes the researchers would find themselves at his mercy, and didn’t that scare the shit out of them?

  “Calder has a pretty sophisticated system,” Braden said. “I want to break into it.” He winked. “I want to do a friend a favor.”

  Rees said nothing, but Talan gave him a big smile. She was beautiful, and Rees was one lucky bastard.

  “Yes,” Talan said. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

  Chapter Nine

  Katarina yawned, her shift almost over. She started sterilizing and stowing her equipment to be ready for the next medic and the next patient.

  She heard the receptionist say in panic, “You can’t go in there,” right before the door to the exam room slammed open and Calder stormed inside.

  Katarina masked her gladness to see him. “You know she can call the patrollers and have you arrested,” she said, continuing to put away her instruments.

  “Tell her not to.”

  Calder was muffled to his eyeballs as before, the face cloth cutting out everything but his hard blue eyes. No wonder the receptionist had sounded terrified.

  Katarina ducked past him and called out. “It’s all right. He’s here for me.”

  The receptionist gave her a startled look. “Are you sure, my lady? The patrollers can be here in a few minutes.”

  Katarina knew there was a button under the receptionist’s desk that rang the patrol station at the end of the block. Because they were open all night and dealt with the lowest of the low, sometimes it was necessary.

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry.” Katarina closed the door of the exam room and glared at Calder. Her heart beat swiftly, adren
aline mixed with need. She was thrilled that Calder had come to her, angry that he shouted at her, worried about what was wrong. “It is fine, right? What are you doing here?”

  “Whose idea was it? Yours or Braden’s?”

  Katarina stared at him. “Since I have no idea what you’re talking about, I can’t tell you.”

  Calder’s eyes blazed. “The entire database. Wiped. Clients past and future. Gone.”

  Katarina’s mouth dropped open. “Database?”

  “My client database,” Calder said, annunciating every word. “It’s been sabotaged. Every name gone, and all the backups conveniently erased.”

  Katarina fought the impulse to smile in joy. “You mean the list of women who like to be pleasured by you?”

  “Yes. Did you do it? Don’t lie to me.”

  Katarina placed her sterilized hypos carefully back into their slots. “I’m good with the human body and know how to fix it, very bad with computers. I can use them, but I can’t change them or tamper with them. I don’t know how.”

  “You could always find someone to do it for you.”

  “I could have, but the thought never occurred to me.” She pushed the tray of hypos back into its drawer in the wall. “I wish it had.”

  Calder seized her by the shoulder and turned her around. “Why? So you could screw me over?”

  His hand on her was heavy, but Katarina didn’t flinch as she looked up into his hot eyes. “Because you were right. I am jealous of those women who come to you, and I do want to scratch their eyes out.”

  “So you did it by erasing the database.”

  “No, I didn’t. I’m happy someone else did, but I didn’t ask them to. I’ve been here all night examining patients.”

  Calder leaned into her, his hand tight on her shoulder, the other huge fist clenched, eyes filled with fury. If the scientists who thought they’d programmed all emotion out of Shareem could see Calder now, they’d be hiding under the nearest table.

  “Braden did this,” he said.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen Braden since I got here tonight. He didn’t mention running off to wipe your database.”

  Calder looked at her a moment longer, then he eased back, letting her go, but his body didn’t unclench.

  “Why did you move in with him?” he demanded.

  Katarina moved to the sterilizer and let its warm beam flow over her shaking hands. “I felt safer living with him down here. It’s a bad part of the city. Plus I wanted to see if you’d be jealous.”

  When she turned around again Calder was still staring at her, but now he looked stunned in addition to angry.

  “Shareem don’t get jealous,” he said.

  “Oh sure. Or angry, or hurt, or depressed. Sorry, I’ve seen all those emotions in Shareem since I started working here. Try another tactic.”

  “Shareem don’t get jealous,” Calder repeated in a stubborn voice. “We don’t because we don’t care about sex. We need sex to survive. We don’t much care what woman we have it with or whether we share her with others.”

  Katarina looked into the small mirror above the sterilizer to straighten her veil. “Right. What about Brianne and Aiden and Ky? They care deeply for each other. And Talan and Rees?” She cocked her head. “I wanted to ask, but I’m not sure how to—do Brianne, Aiden, and Ky have sex at the same time? Or do they take turns or . . . ?”

  “Come home with me.”

  Katarina blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  He grabbed her by the wrist. “If you want me so much, come home with me now. I’ll show you why you don’t want to be with me.”

  Katarina was glad of her veil, because it hid the way her lips trembled. “If you drag me out of here, the receptionist really will call the patrollers.”

  Calder let her go. Katarina rubbed her wrist, but more because she felt the loss of his warmth.

  “It’s your choice,” Calder said. “Come with me now, and you’ll learn everything. Or stay, and never seek me again.”

  Heat washed through her. Katarina wasn’t certain exactly what Calder meant to teach her and how, but she knew she’d hate herself forever if she didn’t accept his offer.

  “All right,” she said softly. “Just let me sign out.”

  *** *** ***

  She was too damn trusting. Calder would have to cure her of that too.

  He took her back to his compound—to his apartment, not the lair. This time it wouldn’t be a fantasy in his exotic playground. This would be real. She’d learn the reality of Calder.

  Calder locked the outer doors then towed her into his small bedroom and slid open the panels to reveal the mirrors. “Strip. Let’s get this over with.”

  Katarina paused in the act of unwrapping her veils. “Get this over with? Don’t stint with the flattery, Calder.”

  “I have a hard-on bigger than a tent pole from watching your sweet ass swaying through the streets. I want to fuck you now. So strip.”

  Her hands shook as she reached for the veils again. “You couldn’t have seen my backside through my sun robes, and you pulled me along behind you.”

  Who cares? “I remember it, all round and pert, begging for my hand. Strip now.”

  Katarina’s mouth set. “You are the most arrogant male I’ve ever met.”

  “And you are the most stubborn female. You want me. Here we are in my bedroom. Decide what you’re going to do.”

  Katarina pulled off her robes then stopped at the clasp of tunic. “Why aren’t you stripping?”

  “I will, if you hurry. Or I might just get bored and leave.” He turned around.

  “All right,” she said hastily.

  Katarina yanked open her tunic and let it drop to the floor. She was wearing plainer clothes than she had weeks ago, and fewer of them, having settled into her role as medic in a backstreet clinic. No need for elaborate garb in the slums of Pas City.

  Katarina’s leggings followed, then her thin underwear. At last she stood before him, lovely and naked.

  Calder sucked in a breath. Dear Gods.

  He could stand here all night and drink her in, if his body would let him. Katarina was simply beautiful, her beauty like a lance straight through his heart. She was an artwork, but a hundred times better, because she was real.

  Katarina hadn’t tried to make herself artificially slim like some highborn women, thank the gods. She was of small stature, but her breasts hung firm and round under strong shoulders, her waist a smooth curve above her hips.

  Calder had seen her naked in the lair, but that had been under muted lighting and deep shadows. Here, his harsh, utilitarian lights showed her every curve, every line, every soft crease.

  The rosy tips of her breasts tightened to dark points under his scrutiny. He’d seen the areolas through her drenched undertunic in his lair, the nipples firmly poking the fabric. At the time, Calder had wanted to take a bud between his teeth, feeling the little point through the silk.

  Her legs weren’t long, but they were shapely, strong. He imagined them wrapped around his neck while he drank her.

  Calder resisted the urge to go down on one knee and lick her from thigh to abdomen, stopping at the beautiful pussy in between. The beautiful bare pussy in between.

  “You shaved,” Calder said. “You’d better not tell me Braden did it for you.”

  Katarina shook her head. “I went to a highborn ladies’ clinic and had them use a depilatory. I told them I needed it done for health reasons.”

  Calder frowned. “Health reasons?”

  “Because I work in a slum clinic. They bought it.”

  Calder reached down with one finger and stroked her, loving the bare, smooth skin. Her scent was heady, making his cock rise even more. “Why did you really do it?”

  Katarina shrugged. “Brianne told me that Aiden and Ky like her bare. Brianne suggested the clinic—if I couldn’t get you to do it for me.”

  “You never asked me.”

  Katarina looked impatient. “When did I ha
ve the chance?”

  She had a point. His lady was getting used to Shareem, not afraid to take advice from their ladies, not afraid of her own body.

  “Do you shave yourself?” Katarina asked.

  “No.” But then, he didn’t need to. Calder’s hair had never grown back after the accident. The fact that he had hair on his head had been due to Dr. Laas’ miraculous techniques. She’d apparently seen no reason to put it back on his scrotum. Calder supposed she liked her men bare too.

  “Show me?” Katarina lay down on his bed. The plain sheets looked so much better with her on them. Her honey-brown hair trickled across his pillows, and her dark nipples beckoned him. “Please,” she whispered.

  Calder hesitated then he drew on enough anger to see him through. She asked for it. Now she’ll get it. Be careful what you wish for, sweetie.

  He unfastened his leather tunic and leggings, pulling them off before he could think about what he was doing. Katarina’s eyes stilled as Calder’s clothes came off, until he stood naked before her.

  Nothing between himself and her. No barrier, no shield. Calder—what he truly looked like.

  He spread his arms. “There. Behold the Beast.”

  “Calder.” The word was soft, quavering. Her voice didn’t throb with disgust, but he did hear the pity. Katarina’s eyes were quiet, brown tranquility. “Oh, Calder, what happened to you?”

  “Plasma fire.”

  “How?” Katarina sat up and clasped her arms around her knees, shutting herself off from him again. “None of your friends will tell me what happened.”

  Damn them. Calder didn’t like anyone else talking about him—though few even knew the whole truth—but now he wished they’d spilled, because he didn’t want to tell her. It hurt too much to remember, and Calder didn’t want to see Katarina’s face when she heard the story.

  “I’d rather fuck,” he said in his broken voice.

  “I want to know.”

  Damn her, damn his friends, damn the whole rack of scientists at DNAmo. They’d not only burned him—the entire stupid fire accident had been their fault—but now he had to stand here and relate his pain to this woman instead of burying himself in her and forgetting. His hatred of DNAmo moved up a notch.