Chasing Charis

by Lynn Best

  “Stop!” she cried, trying to fight him. She beat small fists against his chest. It did nothing. If he wanted to rape her, he would.

  He stood over her, panting. His hard stare bore into her before he curled a lip in disgust and stalked away. When the wall to his interior room closed once more, Charis slid down, put her head in her hands, and cried.

  ***

  Hours passed.

  Han didn’t come out of his room, nor make any discernable noises that Charis could hear. She curled up in a corner, hoping he wouldn’t come out and try to rape her in order to fulfill the prophecy or whatever bullshit Bram had been spouting.

  As best she could understand, Han was going to be king. He needed a mate, and apparently his people didn’t produce women. That had been what the blonde woman, Brandy, had said. They were using human females to bear them children, though how that worked, she had no idea. Did the baby come out normal or was it… strange? She’s seen sci-fi movies—aliens ripping through chests, coming out with claws and fangs.

  Not that it was going to happen to her. Thank God, she and Kahn hadn’t done the deed.

  But when she thought of Kahn, all she felt was pity. He was imprisoned because he’d fooled around with her. She’d had no idea, of course. She couldn’t really be blamed, but that didn’t stop the thought spiral from winding around and around.

  What would you tell your students who were perseverating on an unproductive thought? her social worker voice said.

  I would tell them to get the hell of a spaceship first, and then I’d tell them to seek professional psychiatry, her other self said.

  You can still deal with thought spirals on a spaceship. Didn’t you learn anything in grad school?

  Shit, her other self said. I learned enough to know you don’t always know everything.

  She was losing it, wasn’t she? Talking to herself. Slipping into hysteria. She needed to get a grip.

  She’d just have to deal with her current situation, which was starving and freezing in a dark corner of a mad alien’s room while he raged somewhere deep inside.

  She got up, deciding to look around one more time for escape. She walked to the wall where Bram went, sliding her hand over the surface. That did exactly bupkis, which she’d expected. She skimmed the smooth wall with her hand, winding around until she got to the rows of books on the massive bookshelves. So many titles. Classic authors like Dante, Steinbeck, Poe, Yates, Tolstoy. There were also books written with symbols she could not read. Alien literature? She wondered what kind of stories an all-male alien race told. Probably a lot of human abduction stories.

  Tapping her fingers along the book’s spines, she walked around until she got back to the area with the pool. The shimmering light was still pulsing in blues and pinks from the bottom. Charis dipped a finger in. It was the perfect temperature, like a bathwater, and it seemed soothing. And she was so damn cold.

  Looking around, she contemplated getting in the water. Han wasn’t going to come out anytime soon. Maybe the water could warm her up. Her muscles were aching, and her shoulders were tight. Just a little dip wouldn’t hurt.

  After a furtive glance over her shoulder, she dipped a toe in. Then she eased down the first few steps, letting the water lap at her calves. It felt so good.

  Just a little lower, she thought. Pulling her T-shirt up so it wouldn’t get wet, she continued until the warm liquid submerged her to her thighs. But the further in she went, the more her body yearned to be warm. Soon, she was up to her neck in the deliciously hot water.

  And it felt wonderful.

  After a few laps, she found an underwater bench, sat down on the smooth surface, and let the pool soothe her. A languorous feeling threaded through her, and Charis closed her eyes, only meaning to rest her eyes for a moment.

  She must’ve fallen asleep, though, because a loud splash startled her.

  Eyes flying open, she jumped at the sight before her. She hadn’t heard anyone come in the room, but there was indeed someone in the pool with her.

  A man.

  “What are you doing?” she screamed, splashing away. She swam as far away from him as she could, bumping into the far wall with a thud. But now she was trapped with no easy escape, since the person occupied the area with the stairs.

  “Calm down, little doe,” the voice purred. “It isn’t hunting season yet.”

  Charis stared at the shape, heart thumping with fear and adrenaline, as it moved toward her in the dim light. It wasn’t Han, Kahn, or Bram, though this man also subscribed to the chiseled-abs-of-the-month club. He was exceptionally built and finely toned, though a bit smaller than Han or Bram. His face was stunningly handsome, but he didn’t resemble the others. He had an impish face, the devilish gleam of a trickster in his blue eyes. Shoulder-length hair in rich caramel tones skimmed the top of the water as he sliced in smooth strokes to her, still smiling mischievously.

  “Who are you?” she asked, clutching herself.

  “I am Rahan. And you are Charis.” There was no question in his voice.

  “What are you doing in here? This is Han’s pool. He’ll be mad if you’re in here.”

  He smirked again. “Yes, and I hear you are Han’s, too. Or are you Kahn’s? I hear such conflicting reports, little doe.” He raised an eyebrow.

  “I do not belong to anyone,” she responded firmly.

  “Ah, see. That is what I was hoping to hear.” He moved closer, sending little ripples that lapped over her. His chest was bare. She couldn’t see his lower half, but she had the feeling he was naked.

  “Stay back.” She held out a hand. Should she scream for Han? What kind of help would he be?

  Rahan stopped advancing, regarding her like she was a rare bird. “So, you aren’t Han’s, and you aren’t Kahn’s. Then what, exactly, are you doing on my ship, Ms. Charis?”

  “Your ship?”

  “I own it. I drive it. Well, most of the time. When I’m not chasing beautiful women who seem to have the whole place in a tizzy.” A lazy grin graced his lips, his eyes heavy lidded with an emotion that made tingles start at the base of her spine. “I can see now what they’re talking about. You are worth fighting for.”

  She furrowed her brow. “I never asked anyone to fight over me.”

  “Never asked, but it happened all the same. My brothers are at war, and you are Helen of Troy. Who will win your hand may decide the fate of the universe. Or this solar system, at least.”

  “Your brothers are Han and Kahn?” she asked dubiously. None of them looked anything alike.

  He nodded, swimming a hand through the water like a fish. “Same father. Three different mothers. Very different sons. Han is the eldest, but I’ll tell you a secret.” Rahan leaned in close. “He is not the best lover. All the women say so.”

  Charis treaded water, pushing herself farther away from him. She had no desire to conspire against Han in his home. Boy, would that throw him into a rage. “You better be careful of what you say.”

  Rahan smiled, but he seemed to heed her warning. “His wrath is mighty, yes. I do not wish to be in jail like my brother.” He studied her, and the scrutiny made her cheeks blaze hotly. “But you are so beautiful, I can see why he did it. Why he was unable to control his manly urges.” He started to flow forward again, his intense expression making her nervous.

  What was he going to do?

  She stared in apprehension, telling herself this was a bad idea. As she watched him come ever closer, she felt locked in place. She needed to get out of the pool, call for help, do anything but… Oh God, it was too late. He was directly in front of her now, not even a breath away.

  Rahan was handsome, and he smelled delicious. And she’d been worked up since Kahn had started her internal fire and never extinguished it. When his fingers gently grazed her thigh, her arousal hummed to life against her better judgement.

  “Are you worth going to prison for, Charis of Earth?” he breathed, dipping his head so his words tickled her neck.

 
She bit her lip, shaking her head mutely.

  His free hand slid up to cup the back of her neck. “I think you vastly underestimate your charms.”

  There was the slightest brush of his lips at her throat. Shivers tripped up and down her body. She reached out with the express purpose of shoving him away, but she found herself drawing him closer instead. His muscled heat pressed against her body, her hands greedily clutching him tighter to her. He nibbled her ear, his palm on the curve of her ass urging her onto him. Without a thought for the consequences, she wrapped her legs around his body, letting herself become weightless in the water. She sucked in a ragged breath when her core nestled against his hardness, his gasp in her ear telling her it had affected him, too. Rahan was, in fact, naked. And judging by the molten heat singing through her veins, she wanted him. Badly.

  What in the world was wrong with her? This wasn’t like her at all. She was acting like a… shameless hussy, not like the responsible, staid woman she usually was. The thought made her hesitate, but only for a moment. It felt so damn good she couldn’t stop herself. Wasn’t even sure she wanted to.

  Her barely covered folds slid against his hard shaft, the friction sending sparks of heat through her while the warm water lapped over them at the steady movements. His hand found the skin under her billowing T-shirt, the bubble the fabric made an annoyance she wished would disappear. But once his fingers crept up, skimming along the sensitive skin of her belly until he found her breast, she lost track of everything. He gripped the soft mound firmly, biting her neck at the same time. She groaned at the pleasure. Fingertips brushed over the puckered ridge of her nipple, making her arch.

  “Hold tight, little doe,” he growled, releasing his light hold on her thighs. Her legs tightened reflexively so she didn’t fall. With his now-free hand, he gripped her other breast hard, tugging her even closer to him.

  It gave her such a surge of desire, the pleasure teetering on the edge of pain. She cried out, locking her legs as he ground his cock into the soft apex at the juncture of her thighs. The rubbing set her ablaze. All she’d have to do was push her panties to the side, and he could finish what he’d started.

  “Rahan!” Han’s voice was a bellow of rage.

  Interrupted again? She lowered her head to Rahan’s shoulder with a groan of dismay, not even caring Han had caught her with yet another man. All Charis could think was she’d go unsatisfied yet again.

  She felt hard fingers grip the back of her T-shirt, and she was unceremoniously yanked from Rahan’s arms and dropped with a splash. When she reemerged, sputtering in rage, it was to see her second almost-lover torn from the water. Han lifted his brother like he was a toy, and dragged him onto the ground. Sopping wet and naked, Rahan lay on his back, laughing unrepentantly up at his bigger brother.

  “She really is a treat, Han. I can see why you’re so protective of her.” Rahan smirked.

  Han stood imposingly over Rahan, looking like he wanted to stomp him. Veins popped out of his neck and arms, his face set in stone. “You have no right to come in here! No right to touch anything that does not belong to you.”

  “Bram told me to bring your tray,” Rahan said casually, nodding to a table that held steaming platters. “He thought you might’ve worked up an appetite, but I guess not since your lady was so unfulfilled she had to rub herself against my cock.” Rahan winked at Charis, and embarrassment flooded her at his crass words.

  Han growled at his brother, swinging his massive fist with incredible force. Rahan cowered. The blow missed his head by inches, smashing instead into the floor, which gave under the blow wobbling back to shape.

  Han let out a roar.

  “Dear brother, you really do need to get laid,” Rahan teased.

  “Get out,” Han boomed. “Or I’ll lock you up with Kahn!”

  Rahan stood, showing no shame at his nakedness. “Now we both know my mother would have a lot to say about that. And besides, this is my ship. I don’t think you can put the captain in the brig.”

  “I’m still king,” Han thundered.

  Rahan held up a finger, waggling it almost playfully. “Nuh-uh-uh, brother, not yet. Future king, maybe. And at home, yes. But this is space. Maritime law and all that.”

  Han flashed his teeth. “Give me a reason.”

  “Right. Okay.” Rahan turned toward the door, apparently thought better of it, and turned around. “Charis, little doe, will I see you again? Tell me yes.”

  “Go!” Han snarled.

  “Right. Rain check.” Rahan flashed a grin at her before striding toward the wall. He pressed his hand to it, and then slipped through without a backward glance.

  Han stood, body heaving, staring after him and seething. Charis bobbed in the water, hoping he would forget her, but when he whirled on her, she knew she had no hope of avoiding his rage.

  “Why do you do this?” he yelled, his fists clenching. “Why do you seduce my brothers?”

  “Me?” She put a hand on her chest in surprise. “They were all over me.”

  But was that really what had happened? She’d managed to make out with both of his brothers in the span of a few hours, and she hadn’t exactly said no. Charis hadn’t made out with more than one guy in such a short span since her first year of undergrad. And even that had only happened once. She was not someone who acted on urges like that. But something about those men unlocked a sensuous side she hadn’t known was there.

  As she was considering this, she realized Han was still seething, his furious eyes locked on her. “Why do you care?” she threw back. “You think I’m ugly.”

  He reared, anger turning to confusion. “I didn’t say ugly. I said plain.”

  “Oh, is that so? Well, excuse me. That makes it so much better.”

  He pinched his forehead like she was exasperating. “You are plain compared to a lot of the women they ply me with. They are sparkly and glamorous, and you are just…” He gestured to her like that would explain it.

  “None of this is helping,” she said, hurt she didn’t want to feel taking place of her righteous indignation.

  “I don’t need to explain myself to you. I didn’t ask for you to be brought to me, and I certainly didn’t ask Bram to lock me in here with you.” Han stalked away again, thundering toward his room.

  Charis bobbed sulkily in the water. She wasn’t sure why his words stung so much, but they did. Maybe they hit too close to home. She’d always felt plain with her unruly hair, a face that never looked better with makeup no matter how hard she tried, and a body that was a little too soft. He’d trotted out her worst fears, and then threw them in her face.

  And yet, Kahn and Rahan hadn’t seemed to feel that way.

  Not that it mattered.

  Charis doggy-paddled to the steps. Steeling her nerve, she exited the water and grabbed for one of the towels. The floor was smooth, and her feet were wet. She felt them slip. Arms pin wheeling, she tried to grab for anything to break her fall, but there was nothing to be found.

  She went down hard.

  Her back hit first, and then her head. The smack of her skull was like the crack of a bat.

  Regardless, the world blurred. Dissipated.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  She awoke to the most amazing sensation—tingles radiating throughout her entire body. It was like being electrocuted with pleasure, not pain.

  If she were dreaming, she didn’t want to wake up.

  But her body wouldn’t let her stay enraptured in this bliss. Slowly, other senses woke up. Her hearing for one—she tuned into someone moving around, the scratch of fabric over her skin, and the deep resonate voice of a man reading. Her pain sensors kicked on, too, with a throbbing that came alive in the thickest part of her skull. Memories came back slowly. Oh yeah, she’d fallen, hit her back and then her head.

  Forcing her eyelids open, Charis blinked into the dim light.

  She was lying on a bed. Or rather, a surface made from the same material everywhere on the ship. She was covered b
y a soft blanket, a pillow propped beneath her head.

  When her hazy vision finally focused, she saw the owner of the voice.

  Han sat beside her, one large hand on the skin of her neck right where the collar of her T-shirt dipped. There was nothing sexual about it. It was more like how a mother would lay a hand on a child’s chest to help soothe them. And yet, that touch was where all the pleasurable, tingly feelings radiated from.

  He hadn’t seemed to notice that she was awake. His nose buried in one of his ancient books, he read aloud in a hushed whisper.

  “Come, I will make the continent indissoluble; I will make the most splendid race the sun ever yet shone upon; I will make divine magnetic lands, With the love of comrades, With the life-long love of comrades.”

  “That’s beautiful,” she said.

  He jumped, his hand flying off and the book snapping shut. Nonplussed, he stared down at her.

  “You’re awake.” He said it like an accusation.

  Charis sat up, though it took her a moment because of her throbbing head. Han winced, too, but when he saw she’d noticed, he wiped the look off his face.

  “Does it hurt you?” she asked.

  “What?” His voice was more like the growl from the pool now, and less like the even tone of the poetry reading from a moment ago.

  “Does your head hurt?” she asked, pointing to his. “Like mine does.”

  “No.” He gripped his book, turned his back to her, and stalked away.

  Charis watched him, flabbergasted. He’d been touching her. That she knew for sure. But now, he seemed embarrassed, even angry. She didn’t understand his reactions at all.

  “Han,” she called, getting up to go after him.

  Wincing with pain, she walked the hallway until she got to his library. He was on his tiptoes, sliding the book onto a shelf high overhead, one she wouldn’t have been able to reach even with a chair.

  “What was it?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “The poem.”

  “Whitman.” He gripped another book in his large fist. Without even a glance at her, he left.