Nabvan

by Celeste Raye

  She had always been a little undesirable. Red hair was not a prized thing to have. People thought it the ugliest color, and she had often been made fun of for having been born with that dreaded and despised color on her head. For most of her life, she had longed to have her hair color changed, but that was such an expensive thing to do—especially at one of the salons in downtown Newport City where the dye would be permanent, and she would forever be a blonde. That had always been beyond her parents’ means and when she had begun working, she’d had to help sustain the household as her father had retired and then became very ill and there were credits needed to care for him.

  Jack had loved her hair color. He had often stroked her hair, sometimes for an hour or more, and told her how lovely it was, how beautiful, and for the first time in her life she had seen that hair of hers as an asset, as something rare and precious and wanted.

  Tears ran faster down her cheeks. She said, “He’s a very good man.’

  Blade ran a hand through his inky tresses. His eyes, those dark and cynical eyes, lingered on her face. He didn’t ask anything else about Jack though she had expected him to.

  Instead, he said, “I need to use the cleanser, and I must say, you do as well. No offense.”

  She wrapped her arms tightly around her body. “None taken. I do. I ran through so much muck, it’s a wonder I didn’t actually lose my feet.”

  His smile lifted his lips and cheekbones. It lit up his entire face, erasing the battle-weary and guarded expression he had worn since the moment she had met him. That smile transformed him, made him look younger and far less scary, and it also made her heart do a series of odd flips and pounds that left her a little breathless—something that sent guilt careening into her already broken spirits and flattened them even further.

  “I’d say. I’m glad to see your feet are intact.” His eyes ran up and down her body in a slow way that made her blush deepen as he said the words. “You go first. When you’re done, I’ll use it and then use the printer to get us some food. There’s some tunics in that container below the berth. They’re men’s tunics, but they’re clean.”

  She looked down at the very thin shift-like garment that she wore. It was transparent from sweat and the cheapness of the material. Her face went hotter yet, something she would not have thought possible just a moment ago. She nodded. “Thanks.”

  He turned to walk out, and her eyes followed him, noting the way the armor clung to his firm and high ass and long legs. Another bolt of lust hit, making her belly weak and watery. Her mouth went dry. Her throat worked as she swallowed hard.

  She waited until the door closed and then she yanked the putrid garment off and tossed it down the waste chute then stepped into the cleansing chamber, hitting the switches to make the spray as cold as possible.

  An hour later they took seats on the bridge and before a small table with two swiveling seats that connected to the bridge. Blade had set the craft on autopilot for a little while, and she stared at the space around the ship to keep from looking at him.

  Blade wore a loose tunic, trousers, and soft shoes on his feet. Tara had put on a tunic and found that it was far too large. Blade had given her a belt to fasten it around her waist, and she had, but even buttoning it as high as possible still left the neckline a little too low for her liking, especially given her strange and yet powerful attraction to Blade.

  As she had bathed, she had listed off all the reasons why she felt that way for him. She had been drugged by those slavers. They had to have given her something to make her want sex. If their slaves didn’t want sex, they’d be in a real conundrum, she figured.

  She was feeling scared and vulnerable, and he was clearly capable—and dangerous, two things guaranteed to make a woman go a little wild.

  He had literally saved her life. Of course, she was attracted to a man who had carried her out of real and lethal danger!

  He was sexy.

  So very sexy.

  Knowing all the reasons why her body might be reacting to his had not helped her to stem and dam that attraction though. She had hoped it would.

  Blade said, “I didn’t have time to gather fresh supplies I’m afraid, and so it’s all printed. It’s a little bland and stiff, but it’ll fill your stomach. That’s about the best thing I can say about it.”

  She regarded the food on the table. There was some sort of protein-rich loaf, a small bit of printed bread that did look very dry, and a container of recyc water. She said, “I’m so hungry that I don’t think it will matter how it tastes.” That was true. She was ravenous, and she said, “Thank you for saving my life, and for…for all this too.”

  He reached for the bread on his plate and picked it up. “It’s fine.”

  She bit into her food. It was heavy and thick and dry, but she didn’t mind that at all. She swallowed down some water and asked, “Why were they chasing you?”

  “The Wallens?”

  “Is that what they are called? Is that…I mean, are they a species?’

  He roared laughter. His laughter was rich and full and very wonderful. He said, “They’re human. Barely.”

  She shivered. “I couldn’t tell.”

  His face went grim. “Most who run into them can’t either. Were they the ones in whose house you were held?”

  She chewed her bottom lip before answering. “I don’t know. There was this thing there, and it tried to make me drink this stuff, but I got loose. They hadn’t tied the restraints tight enough. It kept trying to get that stuff down my throat, and I panicked so I…I got the bowl from it and poured it down its throat. I killed it. I didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t.”

  It all came flying back to her, and she sobbed out, “I am a murderer, and I don’t know how I am going to live with myself!”

  Blade reached across the table. His strong fingers clasped her wrist, sending a shockwave through her. His voice held a soothing note. “What you killed was a Bleck addict. They call them Shamblers and the reason they use the Bleck on slaves and serfs is because it is instantly addictive. The ones who drink it will do anything to get that garbage. It’s not only addictive; it is incredibly dangerous. The reason you are likely alive and were able to get out is because that creature probably drank a lot of what was earmarked for you.”

  Her mouth hung ajar. “Why would they give that to me? To anyone?”

  Blade drank half his container of recyc water before saying, “They pour it down the slave’s throats to keep them desperate and addicted so they can control them.”

  She had been partially right then. The sobs tapered off. She applied herself to the food again, wiping her face with one shaking hand as she asked, “If they have Jack, would they have given it to him?”

  Blade chewed his food carefully and only nodded instead of answering. Tara poked at the remaining bread. Her forehead wrinkled in thought. “It killed that creature. Why would it not have killed me?”

  He leaned forward. The tunic clung to his broad shoulders and chest. “It would have, had it given you too much. I can promise you they never give too much. They, the ones who watch the new arrivals, generally sip at what they are supposed to give out. It’s a stupid way to do things.”

  The meal was over. Blade said, “Go lie down. You’re safe here. I promise you that. I will wake you soon. I will need to rest before we get to Merital.”

  Safe. It was a strange word. She had never known danger in her life, and now that she had, she knew very well what safety meant, and she believed him, that she was safe with him. At least she was safe from others while he was near.

  But she was not safe from that crazy physical tug she felt every single time she looked at him, and that made her feel defensive and worried.

  She stood. “I will. If you will wake me up, I’ll stand watch or whatever it is you need me to do.”

  His lips tugged upward again, spearing her with wonder and lust. “I think we’ll be fine even when I’m sleeping.”

  She turned and fled without a
nother word, but that desire would not let her go no matter how much she wished it would.

  Chapter 5:

  Blade paced the bridge restlessly. The craft was light and fast and its cloaking system so good that it would be undetected by all but the ships that had the best the in un-cloaking mechanisms.

  He turned away, his mind going back to Tara. How could he just dump her on the agri-planet and hope she made it home?

  How could he possibly be considering going to Newport City, the city where he had been born and raised as the son of the most powerful general in the Federation and where his face was known, and his name was the name of a traitor with a price on his head?

  The woman made him want to do things that were impossible and incredibly dangerous. That made her an even bigger risk than he would have liked to admit.

  There was something about her besides her obvious beauty that tugged at him and demanded that he look at her.

  He was being driven half-crazy by desire for her, and that too made her dangerous.

  He took a deep breath. Merital was just a few hours away now, and he needed sleep. He decided to wake her and to send her to another part of the ship, just to get her as far away from his as possible.

  He ambled down the short hall and to the door of the chamber. It slid open, and he stepped inside then stopped. She slept, and her face wore an expression of such innocence that he began to pedal backward, suddenly loathe to wake her even though he truly needed the rest.

  She woke just then. She sat up, the thin sheet clinging tightly to her body and outlining every soft curve and drawing his eyes to those curves, demanding his attention.

  Her mouth, pink and slightly damp, parted. “Are we there?”

  He shook his head. “I need to rest.”

  “Oh.” She came off the berth in one long and fluid motion that set his heart to racing so fast he was sure he was going to faint. The smell of the cleanser’s products clung to her but below it was the smell of sweet and warm womanly flesh. His dick pulsed back into life, straining at the trousers that he wore in a real and urgent way that caused the front of it to tent over that hard flesh.

  He tried to turn away to keep her from seeing that but just then the ship gave a small vibration, and she lost her footing. She stumbled toward him and instinct made him reach for her.

  She landed against his body, so sweetly curved and perfectly fit for his body that he lost his cool. His head moved lower and then her lips were under his, parting for his tongue.

  Every cell and part of his brain shouted at him to stop this now. That he was crazy for this. That she had a man she loved and she was too gentle, too outside everything that he had ever known, and that all this would do was stain her and harm her, but he could not stop.

  Her mouth was honey and sugar, all soft lips and small solid teeth. Her tongue was eager, and her breasts smashed flat against the armor covering his chest. His staff throbbed and grew, and then he had her on the bed. His hands stripped off the loose tunic that she wore, and his body was bared too in a few swift motions.

  Her body was satiny smooth and so honed that his hands slid along the expanses of skin and bone easily. He spanned her small waist, let his fingers seek out her ribs and then move lower, stroking across her quivering belly as his head dipped so that he could taste her.

  Her lower lips were as honeyed and soft as her mouth. Her oils, heated and smooth and slightly salty and still sugary, met his lips and tongue and drove him onward. His fingers slid into her tight walls, stroked along them, and he felt them open to him. His heart beat faster yet as he explored her skin, tasted deep of her mound.

  Her cries were urgent and low, and he lifted himself above her, his body poised and his brain still telling him to stop this now before it was too late. That it was not yet too late, but then he moved and he was lost inside her snug and wet sheath and the sensations that those walls caused when they squeezed down on his organ, and her nails raked along his back as she strained upward, searching for a climax he could feel building with each thrust of his prick into her body.

  His orgasm was fierce. His cock splashed thick and creamy juices into her body as he strained and bucked above her, his fingers digging into her shoulders and his mouth fused to hers in a final and gasping kiss that took all of his breath and gave hers back to him.

  He managed to get air into his lungs and roll away from her. She stared at him, her eyes wide, and he found himself tongue-tied and remorseful. “I…I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. I mean, you didn’t force me, if that’s what…” She blinked, confusion filling her face. He sat up. She did too. She said, “I should let you rest.”

  He spoke then. “I’m going to take on supplies on Merital, but I’m taking you all the way to Newport.”

  What? Had he lost whatever was left of his mind?

  It truly seemed as if he had.

  Chapter 6:

  Newport shone in the corner of the window, its green and gold surface shimmering gently as they neared it. Tara, her heart heavy and her thoughts disordered and shattered, stood there looking down, trying to reconcile the tryst she had had with Blade with the present moment and the future looming up in the windows.

  Blade said, “We will set down on a lower city, one that has little in the way of security. I have arranged to get a hovercraft to take us to Newport City as soon as we land.”

  “You should not do that. You know you can’t.” Her heart was heavy. Everything was wrong, and what was most wrong was the undeniable desire to tell him to just pull away from that planet, to take her with him wherever it was that he was going. She swallowed hard. “You could get captured.”

  It was true. They had had plenty of time to get to know each other over the journey and he’d had no trouble admitting that he was an outlaw and a wanted man, not that he had needed to admit that fact to her.

  “I won’t. I’m far cleverer than they are.”

  That reason alone kept her silent. She had fallen for him and hard but how much of that was due simply to his bad-man aura?

  He was a bad man.

  He was a criminal and a thief, and she suspected that he had killed a lot of beings. So she could add killer to that list of things that made it impossible for her to stay with him.

  The largest reason for her not being able to ask him to keep her with him lay below, on Newport.

  Jack. The man she had pledged her heart and soul to and who was, right now, probably frantic with worry and fear over what had happened to her.

  She sighed out, “Nobody can outsmart the Federation forever. They always win.”

  God. How had she let that slide from her lips? Like most people, she was sick of the Federation and its boot-heel on her neck, but that was the bargain that had been made for peace, and she had always known peace on her planet, which made her very lucky, and she knew it.

  Blade said, “There may be a day when one may not have to outsmart the Federation.”

  Terror seized her. Her body went rigid. Her muscles locked into place and her mouth parted so words could leave them. “Do not say such things! That is treason and treason is punishable by death!”

  He strolled closer. Her pulse picked up, and blood ran through her veins, making her core clench and go wet with desire for him. She took a step back, a feeble attempt to ward off the lust that resided within her own body, a lust she could not step away from.

  Blade said nothing else to her as they finally hit atmosphere and then settled to earth. The hovercraft was there, and they got in it, still not speaking. Tara’s heart hurt.

  She was so torn. Blade was an amazing man, and she wanted him, wanted him badly, but she was duty bound to Jack—and she had to see him again. Had to be with him even if her heart would always wonder what might have been between her and Blade.

  Tara stared at the streets of downtown Newport City with dazed eyes. It felt like forever since she had been there and everything looked different and changed. Nothing had changed really. There
was her favorite little café with its mock-tea and oxygen whiffs. There was her favorite building, the one she wanted to someday own a loft in, even though that was far beyond her means.

  Everything was the same. Except her. She had left there as a woman who had never traveled or seen anything outside the city, and she was coming back as a woman who had committed an act of murder, who had been somehow kidnapped, and who had seen a great deal of space before being deposited back here upon her homeland.

  She was also a woman who cheated on her fiancé with her rescuer.

  She was an adulteress!

  That last thought unsettled her. Her eyes slid over to Blade. She had thought, honestly she had thought, that perhaps Jack was dead. He had not answered the com-cast calls at all, and it had been that oddly vital physical attraction she felt for Blade coupled with her true belief that Jack must be dead that had sent her into his bed.

  Only Jack was not dead.

  She had managed to reach his employment site, and they had informed her in no uncertain terms that he was indeed alive, although not in the office that day. The person she had spoken to had been quite confused when she had asked had he been at work. She had hung up before they could ask any questions that might force her to admit the embarrassing truth of what had happened on the pleasure planet and during that ill-fated trip that the two of them had taken.

  Blade was wrong about Jack. Blade had said that perhaps Jack had sold her. Jack would never have done that! She had honestly believed that the only reason he was not answering his com-calls was because he must be dead. On the other side of that, he had not answered those calls.

  Why not?

  He had to have known she was missing! Had he not considered that perhaps the com-cast call might be from her or had he been so busy with work and so out of sorts that he had simply not realized that she was calling?