Crave

by Serena Simpson

  It was a nice spring night, there were still people out, not families, mostly lovers and groups of friends. Their whole lives were ahead of them, and while I wished them well, all I wanted to do was forget.

  I sat on the bench as I listened to the music and watched the water do tricks that should have me in awe. Tears sprang to my eyes, I wiped them away with anger. I lived through hell. How could I even have the balls to cry about freedom? Freedom through death, was that a thing?

  I thought about the bears. Even I knew it was random. I heard about bears that were in captivity all their lives. When you freed them, they still acted like they were prisoners, unable to do anything for themselves.

  You could take the girl out of the cage, but could the cage ever be taken out of the girl?

  “Ms. Anderson?”

  I looked up. My chauffeur was following me. It was one of the things he was paid to do. Still, I forgot all about him.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s time to go home.”

  I nodded and allowed him to lead me to the car. Tonight, I didn’t need to get lost in the water, but as always, the time was coming.

  Chapter Twelve

  Noah

  Cole was in my arms. He was using my chest for his pillow making my heart squeeze tight as I gasped for air. I had never felt more masculine in my life. That’s when I realized it had nothing to do with holding a male or female. It was all about how you felt when you held them. I was so damn protective of him.

  He needed to eat. We needed to eat. I wanted to take care of him. With everything that happened yesterday, we skipped dinner. I’d have to do better. Cole was starving himself. I’m not sure how I knew; I just did. Unless I made him eat, he wouldn’t.

  “Where are you going?” His voice was soft, tender.

  I was untangling myself thoughts of picking up breakfast at the diner across the street. “Food.”

  “Not yet.”

  He pulled me down then leaned up to look at me. His sable eyes were so full of emotion, I was sure I would get lost in them.

  I opened my mouth, and he kissed me. His tongue dived deep battling with mine. He stroked me as he ate up my taste while leaving his behind. His mouth owned mine. His kissed reminded me that he allowed me to have the power last night.

  I kissed him deeply wanting to remind him the one with the real power was the one who could say stop and put an end to the whole thing.

  He took a minute to look at me while I tried to get my dick to behave. Then he was sipping from my lips. It was the sweetest kiss I ever received. That kiss fired me up as much as a frontal assault on my mouth. More actually because in those minutes I knew I meant something to him that went beyond being a warm body to pass the time with.

  His lips traveled down to my throat. I wish I was giving as good as I was getting, but I wasn’t. I was in a daze. I wanted; no needed to feel his lips and hands on me. This is what I didn’t get last night, but he was giving it to me today. He stopped over my jugular sucking. He was marking me, claiming me in some small way. My hips were already jerking. Then I felt his teeth scrape over my skin.

  Tremors ran through my body. I knew how vulnerable I was at that moment, but I also understood how much I trusted him. He blew on my neck, his sensuous voice whispered in my ear. “One day.”

  I never thought of my nipples as an erotic zone until Cole sucked on one. It was connected to my now leaking and jerking cock. I was sure I was going to shoot long before he made it to my dick. Sounds of need left me as I called out in a broken voice.

  “Shh, I got you lover.” His mouth went to my other nipple as his hand played with the other.

  “Cole, please.”

  “I like the sound of you begging for me.”

  He wanted to play, but I needed him. My hands went to his hair as he kissed his way down my body. While his body was hairless mine wasn’t. I had what I considered peach fuzz on my chest and a clear happy trail. He was playing with the peach fuzz. First, he would blow his breath on my skin, then he would lick me. Daring my fuzz to stand up again before he ran his fingers over it.

  Every time he did it my skin became a little more sensitive until I was hyper-aware of every touch from his hands.

  “Baby, you’re killing me.”

  His laugh was a groan that matched my own. Then his hands were so close to where I wanted them to be. His fingers were curling in the trail of hair from the bottom of my navel leading to my dick.

  He was going to slow, but I didn’t say anything for fear he would stop. His mouth followed his fingers down in agonizing slowness as I pushed my hips up. I cursed my dick that loved to lie against my stomach. Was it doing that now, hell no, it was standing straight out from my body like it was playing hard to get?

  “You’re playing with me.” I could hear the whine in my voice as his head nestled in the hair at the base of my dick. His hand came down and cupped my balls.

  He looked up at me his eyes so bright with need I barely had time to swallow before he pulled the mushroom head of my dick into his mouth.

  “Damn!” One hand curled into his hair while the other clutched the sheet on the bed.

  Shafts of pleasure went through me. My dick throbbed; my hips jerked. I wanted inside. His mouth was hot; the sucking was tight like an erotic clamp on my dick. He backed off before taking me deeper. He swallowed me whole. I could feel the back of his throat. I wasn’t going to last. Now I was begging, asking him to let me come. His hand was around the base of my dick holding me in just a way that was keeping me from spilling in his mouth.

  The tingles at the base of my spine were making me light headed with need. I needed Cole to own me, possess me; I needed to be his just like he was mine.

  I was no longer in control as I thrust my hips up. My head rolled from side to side in a primal need I couldn’t fight. When he took his hand away, I felt my balls tighten up. With a scream, the first rope of come hit the back of Cole’s throat. He swallowed in time to swallow the next one. My body shook as I lost myself in a sea of swirling pleasure.

  When I finally remembered where I was, Cole was still holding me. His cheek nestled against my spent dick. His hands were sifting through my hair.

  “Morning,” I whispered.

  He smiled and climbed up my body a yawn making his mouth open wide.

  “Are you still sleepy?”

  Cole nodded. “Yeah.”

  I sat up and made sure he laid back down. “Get a little more rest while I get us breakfast.”

  “M’kay.”

  My heart stuttered as his eyes closed. What had I done to experience this in my life? How could feeling this way be wrong? Everything I ever heard and ignored came at me in a rush. I pulled on last night’s clothes before I stepped out of the room. I never spent time thinking about same-sex love. I simply accepted that it was. After my time with Cole, I needed to ask why it was okay for me to love a woman and not a man.

  Maybe the answer was simply because he couldn’t give birth. Then does that mean every female that couldn’t give birth shouldn’t be loved? I shook my head. I would never know the answer to this. I did know I wasn’t giving Cole up.

  I crossed the street and entered the diner. I sat at the counter and waited for the waitress to come take my order. I ordered four different meals to go.

  “That’s a lot of food.” The waitress was flirting with me.

  I leaned in like it was a secret. “I’ve got my hot as hell man in my bed, after last night I need to feed him.” I winked at her. “You know to keep his energy up.”

  The blush that rode up her cheeks was pretty. “I don’t know who your man is, but I think I’m envious of him.”

  I laughed. It caught me off guard because I was happy. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt like this. She put the order in. I took out my phone checking to see if there were any messages I needed to look at.

  When the food came out, the cook was carrying the Styrofoam containers.

  “I hear you have
a man in your bed?” She was around thirty maybe, thirty-five. Her voice was loud or challenging which made me wonder what her story was.

  “I do.”

  “Take care of him. I got a son, a teen. He’s gay; I hope one day all the challenges he’s going through will fade away, and he’ll find someone to love. Seeing people like you gives me hope.”

  “Tell me more about your son.”

  *~*~*~*

  We were sitting down the street from potential victim number six. Cole was waiting for the guy to show his face. I was trying to make everything that happened in the last few days make sense.

  “Noah?”

  I looked up to find his sable eyes locked on me.

  “What did I miss?”

  “There’s our guy.”

  I looked in the direction his head was turned and knew he wasn’t in danger.

  “He’s not coming after him.”

  “I agree. Why don’t we try to knock off the last three males on the list and save the female for tomorrow?”

  I nodded; it sounded good to me. I called Angel and told him this was a definite no. Nothing about this was making sense to me. I should have asked this question earlier, but I was too caught up in Cole.

  “What’s wrong?”

  The fact that I couldn’t seem to sit still was a clue that something wasn’t right.

  “How did we narrow a list of millions down to ten names? How? He could be anywhere stalking any number of people whose names we don’t know.”

  “This is how he operates. Our group has never gone after him before, but others have. To him, it’s a joke. He always leaves clues to who his next victim is. Then he challenges you to figure it out in enough time to save their lives.”

  “The others were too late.” I hated the dejected sigh in my voice. Some killers were so good at the game they were never caught.

  “Only one got close, but yeah it was too late.”

  “Why? They were trained professionals, had to be to go after a target like Naresh.”

  “He always leaves enough of a clue behind that it takes you in the wrong direction. That’s why we’re eliminating potential targets.”

  “So, he doesn’t just like to play with his dinner, he likes to play with us too.”

  “He’s sadistic.” Cole's voice was matter of fact, except for the thread of anger I could hear in it.

  I got quiet while he drove to the next house. Cole parked, and we settled in to wait. I looked over the house while gathering my courage. My brows knit together there was something about the house that was bothering me.

  “Are you going to tell me?” I asked Cole.

  “I would avoid it if I could, but you deserve the truth. On my planet, every male child dreams of becoming A-sostros. It’s a way of life. Closest I can come to it on your planet is to say, think of being wealthy, healthy, and in high demand for your opinion as well as having the other half of your heart who is female. Your children will be the finest and strongest. Your land and your business will flourish. Everyone who knows you will envy you. A-sostros.”

  “I’m pretty sure that I dreamed of something close to that over my life.”

  “There is more to it than that. It is literally a state of being. There are no words in your language to do it justice.”

  “How does it relate to not being black or red?”

  “When we are roughly twelve earth year's, males on my planet enter one of the best years of their lives. That is the year our wings mature enough to be seen. Our parents give us parties and feed us the best of everything they have to offer. The females around our age begin to smile at us and walk in ways to catch our attention. If you are lucky, one may even allow you to touch her newly developing wings. Our female’s wings take several years to reach maturity.”

  “That’s a thing touching a wing?”

  “Think of it as a girl allowing you to run your hand through her hair.”

  “Aww, I got it.”

  “It all leads up to a visit to the priestess. She will declare you either black or red. Everyone who is black will achieve A-sostros. Some who are red may find it, but it’s not guaranteed.”

  “To be black means to be attracted to the opposite sex. Red means to be attracted to the same sex.”

  We sat in silence as I tried to process that bigotry could be found light-years away from the planet I called home. If I couldn’t believe that there was justice somewhere out in the cosmos how was I ever expected to believe that there would be justice in my world?

  I sat there staring at the house waiting for Kyle Marx to come home.

  “How old is our target?” I asked Cole.

  “Thirty-three.”

  “He still lives at home with his parents?” An older couple were getting out of a car. They looked just like the photo I was looking at. I turned back and looked at the front picture window of their house.

  “Angel.” I called him hoping he could help.

  “This is Noah. Can you check if Kyle Marx is in the military? If he was deployed and when he will return.”

  “Sure thing.” I hung up waiting for him to get back to me.

  “Why do you think he’s in the military?”

  “It’s something my mom used to do with the flag on the front window of our house. They have the same flag in theirs. It’s been bothering me since we got here.”

  “Hello?”

  “Noah, great detective work. He was shipped out two weeks ago with his unit. They won’t be back for six months.”

  “You can cross him off the list.”

  “Already done.”

  Cole started the car. He drove in silence for over an hour until we reached the next place of residence on our list.

  “None of the other teams that went after fuckin’ Naresh had a human on them.”

  “What?”

  “All the other teams consisted of aliens to your planets. If you were not here Kyle Marx would have been a prime suspect because we hadn’t laid eyes on him.”

  “I’m here because I’m human?” I gave a laugh.

  “Yes, you’re human, but you’re here because you're qualified.”

  Hot Damn! Cole just gave me a compliment that I could use to get another job.

  “Thanks.” He nodded but stayed quiet. “Will you tell me the rest?”

  “If your red on my planet there are several things that can happen to you. You can become a worker making other’s dreams come true. Someone may capture you to make you a slave. Some may meet their mates and still become A-sostros. Others are kicked off the planet and told never to come back.”

  “What if a female is red?”

  “She is killed immediately and stricken not only from the family records but the planets records. Her birth is rescinded.”

  “Please tell me you're joking.” He turned to look at me. I could see the truth in his eyes.

  “That’s barbaric. How can they live with themselves?”

  “This planet never killed a man for daring to look at a female that wasn't good enough for him? You never hung people because of what they were? You never enslaved people because they didn’t live up to your expectations? Yes, my people are barbaric. The universe isn’t always the wonderland the earth would like it to be.”

  His words shut me up. Not because he went back into our history. He was right about all of that. No, I was stopped in my tracks because all I needed to do was go back three years to know that my people were just as barbaric as his.

  How do we change the world we live in? “I read a book once. An old-time sci-fi. There was a world where they were hurting the people. So, a group wanted someone to infiltrate to change their ways. This great warrior stepped up. He was sent in, but nothing happened. So, another warrior stepped up, he was younger, but there was no change when he was sent in. The last warrior who stepped in was sent in as a female to bear children. He wasn’t happy. Don’t ask me how they managed that one. The moral of the story was that change came from the children who grew
up with the ideas of a better life. I might have remembered it wrong, but the overall lesson stayed.”

  Cole was staring at me like I might have grown two heads. In for a penny. “Wanna have a baby?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Leta

  Someone was hunting me. It felt like a physical ache in my body, this knowledge that I couldn’t deny. The door to the building where my therapist was located shut behind me. It was court-ordered therapy. If I wanted a life without supervision, I had to make every appointment. So, I went, smiled and played nice with a therapist who was so damn stupid it made my teeth ache.

  Therapist: How are you today?

  Leta: I’m well. (unless you mean did I jump every time I heard an unexpected footstep? Did I press my body against the wall in fear when someone passed to close to me? Did I dream of being beaten within an inch of my life? If you didn’t mean any of that and a thousand more things. I’m peachy.)

  Therapist: Do you want to talk about it?

  Leta: Not really. (Haven’t we already talked about it? How many times do I have to relive my pain or are you just getting off on it? Do you wish you were the one being raped? Or do you want to be the one who was beaten? What is it about you women who never got abused? Why do you have rape fantasies, and they are great? It’s not what you think. It’s not your husband, fiancé, boyfriend pretending to be an intruder to make your heart beat a little faster and add a bit of extra spice to sex.)

  Therapist: What did you do last week?

  Leta: Not much. I followed my schedule. (I sat in front of that damn basement door and the memory of how I was hurt and abused swept over me again. I was helpless to move. I screamed, but no sound came. I cried, but there were no tears. I wanted to claw at my skin, but I wore gloves so you wouldn’t know how I want to hurt myself. I thought of going away of never having to worry about life again. Then I came here so I could listen to your asinine chatter.)