An Uncommon Whore (2019 Edition)

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An Uncommon Whore (2019 Edition) Page 14

by Belinda McBride


  I must have looked baffled. “Sometimes Somians are born in an opposite sex pair. They always grow up knowing they’re mates.” Griffin said.

  “Incest?” I asked.

  “Twin matings are rare,” Carlotta said. “The offspring are always prodigies. They are precious to the Somian because they literally advance the culture by decades. Centuries, in some cases.” She looked over at Griffin. “I know of the Partains. They are neuroscientists. They’ve made some startling advances in brain science and surgery this past decade.” She looked at the tech, a gleam of malice in her gaze. “Though how he knows about them is a mystery to me.”

  He just grunted and turned back to his project. “If you want those upgraded drives on all your ships, you might want to get to the point then clear out.”

  I spoke abruptly. “The chip in my head is active. I need it to be nullified.”

  “Nullified,” he said, lifting the magnifiers and looking at me with speculation in his eyes. There was a shift in his expression. Cunning gleamed, then was superseded by curiosity.

  “You have an active chip that needs to be nullified,” he murmured. It was almost as though someone else looked at me. His eyes had changed, from keen and intelligent to cunning and… insane.

  I fought down a shudder.

  “And all data retrieved. Then the chip needs to die,” Griffin said. He folded his arms and glared. “And you’ll do no harm to him.” His hand was precariously close to the handle of his blaster. Carlotta still leaned on the workbench, but her body was taut and ready. They’d also seen the crazy shining from the man’s gaze.

  Within ten minutes, the nameless tech had seated me on a battered reclining chair. He shuffled around in piles of wires and motherboards, finally locating all the components he needed. As I watched, he constructed a hand-held tool, like a small gun with a screen. He waved the reader over my head and then hunkered over a monitor, frowning at the results. Griffin leaned over his shoulder, scanning the information.

  “Standard-issue slave chip with built-in suppression for aggression and independent thinking. Records indicate three… no, four disparate memory washes. If you want ’em, I’ve got the names of your trainers and owners as well as the original broker. There’s an awful lot of data here.” He coaxed a tiny plug into a port and began a download.

  I swallowed hard at that information. “Will I remember what was wiped?”

  He shrugged indifferently, sliding a chip into another port. “Don’t know. Don’t much care.” One icy look from Carlotta adjusted his attitude. I was gaining appreciation for the new royal bodyguard. Between her and Griffin, I had a formidable set of bookends clad in black leather.

  He looked directly at me. “Regardless of how sophisticated the procedure, an implant in the brain damages tissue. I can’t take it out, and I can’t repair that damage. Basically, I’m just killing the implant. You might recover everything, or nothing.”

  My heart sank. I wanted to remember the faces of my parents and the birth of my son. I wanted to remember the first time I saw Griffin. There was much I could recover through study, but I desperately wanted my memories.

  After copying the data, he stepped up, and his grubby hand pushed my hair aside at the base of my neck. The device he pressed against my skull was cool. I shivered as it thrummed against my skin. I imagined ultrasonic vibrations or magnetic waves slashing through my brain. Yet when he finished, I felt fine. I did have an overwhelming urge to wash my hair.

  Both Griffin and Carlotta bent over the monitor, quickly scanning the damning evidence. Neither seemed concerned that my brain might have been rendered to mush.

  “There you go. Today’s the first day of the rest of your life.”

  The tech retrieved the data chip from the computer and handed it to me. Turning his back to us, he returned to his tool bench. Carlotta gave him a sly grin and leaned against the table next to him. She stroked a booted foot up his thigh, chuckling as he hastened away. I wasn’t sure if he had an aversion to females in general or to this one specifically.

  Whatever the case, she purred in sadistic delight. “I know you.”

  Griffin’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, and the tech’s face went dark in anger. Clearly Carlotta knew more than either of them expected.

  “We’re even, Griffin. Don’t show your face around here again.”

  Griffin gave a dangerous smile, letting the tech know that he didn’t take him seriously at all. If he needed something, he’d be back. With a hard fist, he chucked the man under the chin.

  “Someday I’ll be back, and you’ll be glad to see me.” He shrugged. “Still have to pick up those drives. And food must be hard to come by.”

  The tech pulled his head away, and even from a distance, I could see the goose bumps rising on his skin. I shot a quizzical look at Griffin, and he just grinned. Obviously he had a few unsavory secrets of his own.

  “He’s okay now, but I imagine he’ll have some hazy moments. His brain is going to have to adapt to the absence of the signals he was receiving. Don’t let him drive.”

  I guffawed at that; thus far, both Griffin and Carlotta had kept me away from the piloting array. They trusted my navigation, but not my novice piloting skills. Unfortunately I hadn’t lived up to Griffin’s expectations as a pilot. The stress of taking the helm made me sleepy. As we left the workshop, Griffin took a moment to bend down and whisper in the man’s ear. He laughed as the tech spouted off a stream of muttered obscenities.

  We quickly returned to the ship; I was eager to be away from the tech and his collection of parts and pieces. I had to wonder what exactly he was doing hidden away on a moon like this with those parts. I wondered if Griffin knew. I was pretty sure Griffin knew damned well who he was and what he was hiding from.

  Carlotta piloted the Aida from the surface of the tiny moon. We rose gracefully through the thin atmosphere and traveled carefully through an artificial asteroid field of space junk. Griffin’s surly tech might have an immaculate tool bench, but he was a slob in every other way. However, his space trash was an effective barrier from casual visitors to his little hideaway.

  I’M NOT certain what I expected, but nothing seemed to change. My thoughts were the same, and when I looked at Griffin, I saw the same big, rough man I’d first encountered in the Trell 57. My gut went tight and my cock went hard when he gave me a raffish grin. But it seemed there should be more. I still couldn’t recall his face without the scarring and the eye patch. No early memories came to tease me unexpectedly.

  Initially I thought the imprint had remained active. When I caught myself feeling annoyed as Griffin absently waved me from the bridge, I sighed in relief. I was still foolishly infatuated with the man, but not slavishly devoted. And to his credit, he hadn’t taken advantage of me during that time. I’d have done anything he asked of me. I wondered if it had frightened him to have that sort of power over another person. He’d often stared at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, and when we slept together, I’d wake to find him studying me soberly.

  “Who was that man?” I leaned in the doorway of the small bridge, watching as Carlotta carefully steered us around what appeared to be a broken bed frame.

  “His name’s Randall Scott. He used to be a top engineer for a company that designed state-of-the-art spacecraft. He very kindly agreed to upgrade our fleet. Even our smallest ships have interdimensional capability, plus a few other tricks under the hood.”

  He grinned, once again looking rather wicked.

  “So what exactly is in it for him?”

  “His life, I suppose.” Carlotta gave Griffin a sidelong glance. “If I remember correctly, Scott was tried and found guilty of miscellaneous crimes of a repugnant nature. Rape. He maimed and disfigured his victims and left them to die. Didn’t seem to have a preferred victim or method, beyond extreme physical harm. He was sentenced to a particularly harsh term on a penal planet, and then vanished during transport.”

  We both looked at Griffin in quest
ion.

  “I had nothing to do with his escape. A couple years back, I had to take the ship down for repairs. I landed on his rock, recognized the bastard, and decided to make him an offer.” He crossed his arms, looking a bit defensive. “There he was, living alone down there, with no access to other people, not even to outside communication. He was starving. He had his junk, and that’s pretty much it. Sort of a step down from working in the best high-tech labs that money can buy.

  “So, Markus and I agreed to bring him some salvage and basic supplies in exchange for work.”

  Carlotta shook her head in disgust. “Can he travel off-planet?”

  “No. He’s well and truly grounded. Of course, he’s bright enough to build a ship from that junk of his, but all he seems to want is to be left alone.”

  It was an ethical conundrum. He should be in prison, but in a sense, he was, and in addition, he was isolated from anyone he might hurt. Including other prisoners.

  “What did you say to him before you left?”

  “I told him if he set foot off the planet, I’d send Carlotta after him. He’s not real fond of women. Particularly strong women.”

  “Well, Griffin, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me!”

  They laughed, comfortable in their camaraderie. Once I’d begun to trust Carlotta, Griffin had as well. I enjoyed listening to their banter and good-natured arguing. Clearly their similar experiences were the grounds for friendship.

  I turned away from the bridge with a sigh and headed for the practice room. I could sit and read manuals or find an observation window and watch the stars until we entered ID space. I could try to take a nap. The absence of memory worried at me incessantly. I needed to keep myself occupied. Since sleeping or reading had no appeal, I decided to test my new limits. Or to be more accurate, my lack of limits.

  My blade hung on the wall, gleaming and pure in form. Before taking it, I stretched my muscles, slowly building up the intensity of the workout. Reverently, I took the weapon from its place. The kilij was comfortable in my hand; my damaged palms had healed well. I walked the form slowly at first, finally working it up to full speed. I spun and dropped to the floor, dodging an imaginary opponent. I leaped high and landed with a wicked kick. Only the normal fatigue of exercise came over me, and I grinned in delight. I chose another weapon from the rack—a long saber—and again, the weapon felt natural, easy to manipulate. The quarterstaff felt equally good when I feinted at myself in the mirrors.

  Finally I stopped, my heart pounding. At some time during my practice we’d shifted dimension, and the cruiser now flew in near silence. I glanced up into the mirror to see Griffin watching. He leaned casually in the doorway. His easy posture was belied by the enormous erection that crowded the front of his pants. He liked to watch me.

  “It’s coming back.”

  He smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. I slid the staff back into the rack and turned to face him. “No memories yet, but my stamina… it’s just… normal.”

  He remained very still, and I crossed the room and then slapped the panel that shut and locked the gymnasium. I returned to the weapon rack and chose two blades. No time like the present to put myself to the test.

  He caught the blade I tossed, and before I could breathe, the fight was on. He attacked. I parried, thrust, and was thrown back. Again he went on the offensive, pushing me backward in a blinding series of moves. I lacked his strength and speed, so I attempted to move on his blind side. He’d anticipated that. If I knew Griffin, he’d worked long and hard to adapt to his limitation.

  I tired quickly but didn’t feel the sting of embarrassment. It had been years since I’d sparred, and my eventual loss was inevitable. Yet when I yielded, Griffin looked… surprised. He was barely winded, yet I panted like a dog. Leaning against the mirrored wall, I waited for my heart to settle a bit before speaking.

  “In the past, I’d have fought to collapse.”

  “In the past, you would never have submitted to me.” He paced, hiding his face from me.

  I shrugged. “Well, once you learn how to do it, submitting isn’t so bad.”

  I took his blade and returned both to their proper places in the rack. Turning, I looked at Griffin. The sadness in his face had changed to puzzlement.

  “What bothers you, Griffin?” I wanted to take him in my arms, to hold him, but his pride kept me at bay. “Do you fear that I no longer need you?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “This has always been the problem with us, hasn’t it? Neither of us was willing to give ground to the other. We both needed to win and maintain the dominant position. I’ve changed, and you don’t know what to make of me.”

  He flinched at my words.

  I strode to him, grabbed him by the shirt, and swung him against the mirrored wall. “You submit to me because of my status, but it’s unnatural to you. If I commanded it, you’d fall to your knees and service me. Am I right?” He didn’t speak, but his face went dark and angry. “If I command it, will you service me?”

  The muscles in his jaw flexed, and he gave a short, angry nod. “When we were together that first time, I took you into my body. You took me into yours. Was that so bad?” I relaxed my grip and smoothed the fabric of his shirt. “I asked if that was how we’d done it before. You never answered. That was the first time we fucked, wasn’t it?”

  He let out a sigh, turning his head, giving me his blind side. That was how he hid his feelings. If he couldn’t see me, then surely I couldn’t see him.

  He then looked at me. “We did everything but that. I wouldn’t submit, and you couldn’t. You were the prince. It went against my nature… and your pride.”

  I reached up and stroked the rough whiskers of his face. “What foolish, foolish young men we were. Love isn’t about forcing submission, Grif. It’s about… doing for the one you love. It’s about their happiness over our own.”

  “And you love me?” He spoke with wry, bitter humor.

  My breath caught painfully in my chest. How could I love a man after knowing him just days? That’s all I remembered, but not all I felt. Years of loving this man lived in my heart. Had I ever told him how I felt? Even in these short weeks we’d been together?

  I rested my hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at me. “I do love you. I may not remember us, Griffin, but my soul remembers. My heart remembers.”

  He rested a hand over my chest, feeling the beat of my heart. I clasped his wrist and felt his heart beat there. For a moment, we didn’t speak; we simply touched.

  “You’re afraid that if I remember being the royal prince, I can’t submit to what I feel for you.” He turned his head away again. “I need you to know that I’ve grown. I’ve learned to step back. I’ve discovered that humility is not such a bad thing and that strength can be found through submission. I’ve learned that I am not always right, and being wrong is not a bad thing, nor is it a weakness.”

  Slowly my head slipped forward, coming to rest on his shoulder. It was a silent plea for his strength. Yes, my job was to shoulder the burden of my people, but I knew I didn’t need to carry that burden alone. There was room in my life for friends, for people who cared enough to help.

  The woman at the helm of the cruiser was proof of that.

  “Griffin, I want you, I love you, and I need you by my side. Forever.”

  He collapsed backward, his weight resting on the mirror. The sound he made was dangerously close to a groan. When I pressed into his body, he didn’t resist. I pulled him close and kissed him with as much honesty, with as much emotion as existed in my soul. I trailed my hands down his body, unfastened the front of his trousers, and pulled the tight fabric down his hips.

  Slowly, deliberately, I lowered myself to my knees.

  “No, Helios.” He reached down, catching my clothing, trying to pull me to my feet. I evaded his grip and bent forward to press a soft kiss just above the curly thatch of hair. I licked a wet trail along his skin, and he shuddered.


  “Why not?” I looked up at him. Bewilderment chased over his face. Bewilderment and confusion.

  “It’s not…. You’re my king.”

  “And I’m your lover.” Another long lick, and then I coaxed his cock into my hand, watching it harden slowly. “I’m not dominating you, nor are you dominating me. I’m making love to you. It’s a position. That’s all.”

  Whatever he was going to say was cut off on a gasp. I’d pulled his length into my mouth and sucked hard. For long moments I tongued him, losing myself in the sensation, the taste of Griffin Hawke. And then I let him go with a wet pop.

  “Though I’m kneeling before you, is this submission?”

  “No.”

  Good boy, he was beginning to understand. Slowly I stood. “When I took your ass, was that humiliating? Was I forcing you?” I held my breath, praying he hadn’t perceived it that way.

  “No.”

  I looked him in the eye. “I know the difference between sex and love. I know what it feels like to truly submit to another. And I know what humiliation is. I would never humiliate you, Griffin. I would never dominate you just for the sake of domination. I might be aggressive sometimes, as you are sometimes aggressive with me.” I leaned in, whispering in his ear. “And when you are, it’s exciting and powerful and so amazing to feel you unleash all that strength. But sometimes I feel that way too.”

  He took a deep breath, the look on his face still troubled. “I don’t want you on your knees before me, Helios. It’s too much like….”

  “Like the whores in the tavern,” I supplied.

  He went white. “I used you, just like you were a whore.”

  “Griffin. You know, we are all born naked and squalling. We all come into the world the same. It was simply a trick of fate that made me a king, while another man was born a pauper. And frankly, I think many kings and queens do their fair share of pandering.”

  “Not like that.” He shook his head in denial, though we both knew otherwise. I’d been pandered out to a political marriage.

 

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