Rashid would take it slow and easy with this one, seduce her with finesse, unless she indicated she wanted it otherwise. He sensed Keisha wasn’t a girl to be pushed into corners. She needed to be tempted out of hiding with tasty morsels, like a shy creature.
Rashid led her to the old shower area. It was a leftover from when the Elites had a troop of agents stationed in the Funhouse, before they cut back on their secret service, at least where Funhouses were concerned, due to the abuse of misfits scandal that rocked the foundation of Altar-4. Rashid and Omar had taken the section over a year ago, using it as a home base while they planned an escape route out of the Funhouse. Step one of their plan was to take out all cameras that broadcast their daily life to the citizens and Elites of Altar-4. So far, they’d successfully disabled cameras on the entire first floor, and along the escape route they were plotting out.
He adjusted the water for her, and then stepped back as warm spray jetted from the rusty showerhead.
“You can get undressed in here.” Rashid led her to the locker area. “You’ll probably want some help showering, with that.” He pointed to her bandage, then chanced a look at her to gauge her reaction.
She bit her lower lip, seemed to ponder his thinly-veiled suggestion, and then sat on the bench placed between two rows of green lockers.
“I am feeling tired,” she said, matching his openly lustful stare with one of her own. “Guess I could use a hand.”
So, she was game after all. Rashid felt his cock begin to stiffen with a rush of blood, and he smiled as he held a hand out to Keisha.
“Here, let me help you undress.”
She came to him, her gaze still somewhat tentative, but heated just the same with a sexual curiosity. Keisha leaned into his chest and let his hands fall to her chest, caress her large breasts as he slid her t-shirt up over her torso and head. She sighed as he kissed her neck, and when she pressed closer into Rashid, he nipped at her ear, licked and kissed a trail down her neck while he massaged her now naked breasts.
His hands traveled lower, and she didn’t stop him when he unzipped her pants and slid them from her rounded hips. Before he removed her panties, he slid his fingers beneath the black, lacy fabric, finding a nest of tight curls. His fingers moved lower to stroke her clit, and Keisha arched forward when his fingers dipped inside her labia, lubricating his fingers on her wetness. He went back to stroking her clit until she bucked against him, then he traded off between teasing the nub of flesh and digging his fingers deep into her cunt, where he stroked her g-spot ever closer to climax.
She came in his arms as he used his free hand to slide her panties off. Gently, Rashid sat her on the bench while she still trembled from her orgasm. He quickly shed his clothes and joined her, taking her in his arms and kissing her deeply. Her tongue answered his, twining around his, when he parted her lips with a seeking lick.
Rashid parted her legs and urged her to lie back on the bench. He dipped his head to kiss and nibble a trail down one thigh and up the other. When he reached her pussy, he teased her mercilessly, kissing up the labia, but not touching her clit, placing gentle kisses in the thatch of hair above it. He didn’t satisfy her until she moaned out “please,” then he licked her clit with long, flitting strokes before he nibbled, sucked, and licked her to climax once again.
As she was coming down from orgasm number two, Rashid stood. “Well, I should let you get to that shower…”
He let his fingers linger in her hand, and she squeezed them as she sat up. He stopped and turned back to her.
“I thought you were going to help me?” Her smile was sexy and irresistible.
“Of course.”
Rashid led her back to the shower, underneath the warm spray. He smiled as he welcomed her into his arms, enjoying the slickness the warm water added to her voluptuous body. Sliding his hands up her firm stomach, he embraced her heavy, rounded breasts and squeezed as she trailed a hand up his thigh then wrapped it around his cock.
He reached behind himself and turned slightly, grabbing some soap from a wire basket hanging from the showerhead. Rashid lathered up his palms and then handed her the soap, while he coiled his fingers around her generous breasts once more. He relished the feel of them—soft yet firm—as he took their fullness in his hands and massaged with soap-smooth fingers.
Keisha worked his cock like a masterful lover. She used the soap to lubricate her grip well, then held him tight while her hand glided up and down his hard shaft. Coupled with the needles of hot shower spray tickling his back, Rashid soaked in a feast of sexual stimulation. He moaned as she cupped his balls in the cushion of her palm and squeezed every so lightly. When she went to her knees and took his full length in her mouth, the sensation exploded through him, sending a liquid fire of bliss from his groin to his belly, then spreading farther through his chest as she slid her hot, wet mouth up and down.
He spread his fingers in her tight, short curls, now damp against her head, as she flicked her tongue up and down his penis, then swirled it under the thick ridge of the head. Molten pleasure made him rock his hips and growl out his enjoyment. His breath quickened, and his heart beat faster, as she caressed his balls in time with her mouth’s skilful working. She buried his shaft in her throat to his root, and Rashid felt a sublime tingling from his toes to his neck as she flitted her tongue up and down while she still swallowed him whole. His mind burst in an onslaught of ecstasy.
He was about to come when Omar interrupted them. “You two ever plan on getting some dinner out here?”
Omar stopped when he came into view and saw the two of them. Rashid met his eyes and tried to shake off his lust-drugged state. Omar’s face remained impassive as his gaze went from Keisha on her knees to Rashid’s face. Rashid held his breath, listened to his heart play the drums in his ears, and waited for his partner’s reaction.
It wasn’t like this was the first time Omar had caught him in such a state. Omar had discovered him and Veronica in a similar state when she’d first joined them, making their duo a trio, but then, Rashid knew Veronica had left a bad taste in Omar’s mouth when she left them.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Omar whispered, and turned to leave, but then he stopped, tilted his head as if he listened to something.
Keisha stood when he turned back and gave her a glare. Rashid felt confused, and he frowned down at his new lover.
“I told you to stay out of my mind,” Omar said to the newcomer.
“I just wanted to reassure you—”
“Don’t.” He held up a finger and pointed at her. “Bother.”
“Look, I’m no threat to you or him.” She looked up at Rashid and her eyes pleaded with him to back her up. “This just … happened.”
“Right.” Omar turned away again, and this time Rashid spoke up.
“Come on.” He walked around Keisha, towards Omar. “You know what this is about. You’re still letting Veronica haunt you.” Then he turned back to Keisha. “Omar and I have an open relationship, but something happened—”
Omar shot him an angry frown and widened his eyes, cutting Rashid’s words off.
“There was another,” Rashid continued, walking back to Keisha, ignoring his pouting lover. “She betrayed our trust, and, well…Omar’s still sore about it.”
“You big mouthed bastard,” Omar growled. “You barely know this woman, and already you’re fucking her and spilling our secrets.” He threw his arms up in the air. “But why should I be surprised? It’s your usual M.O.”
Rashid shrugged and crossed his arms over his bare chest. “I’m the rogue and you’re the brains. We agreed on that long ago.”
“I just wish you’d show a bit more self-control.” Omar sneered.
He turned from them, but before he could take his first step, his broad back went straight, his shoulders stiffened, and he whirled on them anew. “You did it again.” He pointed at Keisha. “What part of stay out of my mind don’t you get?”
“Look, when I get nervous,
upset, sometimes…it’s instinct. I have to work on my control, okay?”
She stepped closer to the towering alchemist, glaring back, and Rashid followed, ready to place himself between the two of them and end the squabble.
“Don’t even give me that excuse.” Omar brought his face closer. “You’re just trying to influence my thoughts. I’ve known other mind benders like you. Never can trust a head player.”
Keisha’s nostrils flared and her hands balled into fists. Rashid took this time to step in between.
“You’re not being fair, Omar. We’ve got enough against us, Elites trying to watch our every move, without turning on one another.”
“I’m not being fair?” Omar’s face folded in an intense frown. “She might be a misfit, but that doesn’t mean they won’t turn her. You know how things work in here. Look how easily they programmed Ronnie.”
Rashid stepped up, so they were nose to nose. “She isn’t Ronnie.”
“Doesn’t mean she won’t turn.”
“Wait a minute.” Keisha gently pushed Rashid out of the way. “Would you two mind explaining exactly what you’re talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Omar said. “You must know the stories. How the Elites promise a misfit time off for good behavior if they turn on one another. That troll who attacked you? We were friends on the outside, good friends, until the Elites promised him special favors if he became a Funhouse thug. In here, you either die or give into the program.”
She refused to let him intimidate her and continued the stare-down. “What about and Rashid? How do I know you won’t turn on me, hmmm?
At this, Omar threw back his head and let deep laughter rumble up from his chest. “For three years, we’ve managed to keep ahead of them. We’ve taken out cameras on this floor, and along our escape route. They’d like us dead, but they haven’t succeeded yet.”
“Look,” Keisha said. “I don’t know I can trust you anymore than you know you can trust me. But, we’re in here together, so why not work together? Give me a chance, and I’ll give you one.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “You’ve already been in my mind without permission. Strike one.”
***
Chapter 3
Before she or Rashid could speak, he stalked out of the shower swiftly, heading back to the fire pit to finish his meal. But as he entered the hall that split in two directions, he turned right rather than left, walking down to the second door they’d secured here in their little hideaway. He needed some time alone to collect his thoughts. Omar let the cool darkness wash over him as he leaned against the brick wall and closed his eyes.
Let your hackles down. The voice made him tense at first. Another invasion in his head. Give the woman a chance. But once he recognized it, he relaxed and let it soothe him.
You saw what happened when I trusted Ronnie. He sent back to his father’s mind.
Son, you need to get over her. Don’t let her haunt you like that. You want to make it out of that place, you could use a little solidarity.
He smiled. Okay, okay…old man.
Watch it, smart mouth. His father’s warm laughter calmed him further, and he turned, walking down the hall, back to the fire pit in the main room. Dad had vacated his mind for the time being, but left behind reassurance, and some peace of mind Omar appreciated a lot at this time.
When he returned to the main room, he found Rashid and Keisha eating the pan-fried snail and Mushki—a tasty fungus that grew on the stone walls—around the crackling fire pit. The flames sat in the center of a circular depression in the stone floor.
Omar lucked out. Before he fled from his misfit commune, when they were raided by the Elite’s police, his father had taught him well how to hone his alchemist talents. His gift was one of transmutation, and that was how alchemists came by their name. They could transform one form of matter into another, and many alchemists also possessed the power to absorb other misfit’s gifts (although it was considered unethical to take another misfit’s gift without their permission). The wood that warmed them now had been created from a pile of rock Omar had scrounged on his and Rashid’s many trips to scout another escape route.
He sat on the other side of the fire, taking his plain bowl back in his hand and scooping up some Mushki.
Keisha’s gaze met his through the red-orange flames. “Would you…Can I ask about Ronnie?”
Omar looked to Rashid, who stared at him with those large, dark eyes that reminded Omar so much of a puppy dog. Damn man got him every time with those eyes. He felt himself softening toward the newcomer with the silent plea from his shapeshifter partner, and he put the bowl down by his knees.
“She was a mind bender, like you.” He paused to search for the right words, the best way to tell the tale. “See…you have to understand something about these Funhouses. They’re the Elites toy box, but they’re also a wonderful cash cow for them. The cameras…they broadcast everything that goes on inside here, and tablet screen viewer’s everywhere lap it up. Ratings go through the roof with every death, every newly turned misfit. So they have to keep the game interesting for their viewing public, right?”
She said nothing. Just stared at him across the fire, and Omar noticed how much her large brown eyes reminded him of Rashid’s. They were open, wearing her emotions right in her gaze.
He continued, “So, once every two or three months, we get a visit from the Elite’s Special Forces in here. They like to play hunter, see. Chase us around like scared little rabbits. Only if they catch you, they play inside your brain… And if they can’t break you, they offer you a deal you can’t refuse.”
“What’s that?” she whispered.
“Freedom. Only, they never deliver on that promise. Once a misfit is programmed, they forget all about freedom.”
She stood and tentatively approached him, sat beside him. “Is that what happened to Ronnie?”
He had to look away. The compassion in Keisha’s stare was too naked, too there. It punched him in the heart and made his shoulders sag with the weight of memory. “Rashid, Ronnie, and I were running from them. They paid a visit when we tripped some alarms we missed when we first took apart the cameras and security in the sub-section. I sent her ahead, thinking I was doing the right thing.” He ran a hand down his face as the guilt threatened to choke him. “The Elites sent a second team to cut us off at the exit. We were so close. They got her before Rashid and I could stop them. We managed to escape, but I couldn’t save Ronnie.”
Keisha laid a warm hand on his wide bicep. “What happened to her?”
“She’s still here,” he whispered, looking down at his uneaten bowl of food. “Or, rather, they brought her back. Brought her back a new woman.” When he met her eyes, he could see his bitterness, his anger, reflected back in her concerned reaction.
She drew even closer, and her knee brushed his as she laid her other hand on his leg. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”
He gave her a smile that felt all too weary. “She’s a psychic vampire. That’s what they turned her into, what they have the power to do. Now she hunts us, just like the Elite do.”
“Her lair is two levels down,” Rashid added quietly. “She attacked us once after the turning, but we haven’t seen her since.”
Omar stood and walked from the fire pit, heading back toward the hallway where he’d first retreated. When Keisha looked to Rashid, he gave a nod, indicating she should follow him.
She was persistent. Omar would give her that, he thought, as he watched the newcomer stride toward him. He leaned his head back against the cool, shadowed stone and waited for her.
“Determined to earn my trust?” he said when she stopped in front of him.
“Quitting isn’t in my vocabulary.” She smiled.
He raised an eyebrow, but he wasn’t ready to give her a grin. Not yet. He sensed, though, they were kindred in their mistrust of people, of one another. She just hid hers better. A charmer, he thought, like Rashid. Great.
“
Okay.” He crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Tell you what. You’re on a trial basis. Prove I can trust you, and I will.”
She scoffed at this, mimicking him by crossing her arms over her ample breasts. “What is this? A job interview?”
He chuckled at this. He couldn’t help himself. Her look of incredulity crinkled her nose, and the attitude dripped from her stance. It was too cute. Guaranteed to lighten his mood, in spite of himself.
She drew closer, placing her hands on his pecs. “Look, I’m not her, and I’m not going to become her. I promise.”
His turn to scoff. “You can’t make those promises in here. You never know when the Elite will pay a visit. They love to mess with us. It’s their game. Me and Rashid are lucky we’ve made it three years in here together.”
Placing his hands on hers, he meant to remove them, but instead his touch lingered. She was warm, soft. Her big eyes hypnotized him. The rich brown so dark it seemed to swallow her pupil. And they brimmed with compassion, which got him right in the heart. By Turall, he was a fool.
Bending his head toward hers, he decided to steal just one kiss. Just one taste, and then he’d walk away. Easy. But it had been some time since he’d been with a woman, and while he loved Rashid, his touches, his kisses, the change in touch—a woman’s touch—provided exhilarating variety.
Her mouth met his hungrily, and her tongue eagerly darted across his lips. It danced with his in a sensuous duel, and he felt heat spread through his chest, down his abs, through his stomach to his groin. Wrapping his big arms about her, he pulled her close against him, deepening the kiss. She gave a small moan against his mouth.
He tugged his head back, just a bit, and teased her with tiny nibbles to her bottom lip. Her hands slid down his back, cupping his butt and squeezing, urging him closer. Cradling the back of her head, he responded by sliding his tongue between her lips again, yanking her tight against him as he took her breath away with the next kiss, tongues twining between the sighs she emitted, the groan he let loose. His cock hardened and his groin tingled with agonizing yet delicious heat.
BDSM Mega Boxed Set Page 105