by Clare Murray
And after that scare, Mari sure needed to feel an emotion other than terror.
Finn’s hands went back to her breasts, the rough pads of his thumbs brushing sensitive skin. It was hard to believe that these skilled fighters could be so gentle, but they were consummate gentlemen, taking things slow and easy. Almost too slow and easy, for when the train lurched, panic nibbled at the edges of her libido.
When they lowered her to the bed, she was more than ready to go along with it. Stomach-down, she complied as Gareth positioned her rear-end-up with her knees under her body. Doggy-style, according to some magazine she barely remembered. Mari quivered as he ran a finger along her sex, drawing a long, protracted circle around her clit.
Finn situated himself at the top of her body, kneeling so that his erect cock was inches from her mouth. She knew what he wanted—and she was more than willing, daring to lick him first, lack of ice cube be damned. His groan spurred her on even as Gareth eased the tip of his cock against her entrance, holding her hips firm.
Mari opened her mouth further as Finn stroked her hair, tonguing the head of his erection before she closed her lips around his smooth skin and slid downward. He let out a load groan.
“Ah, baby, you feel so good. What a sweet, tight mouth you have.”
He liked that? Mari felt an irrational rush of pride accompanied by an electric surge of arousal, and Gareth used the opportunity to penetrate her. She gasped around Finn’s cock, writhing a little against the not entirely unexpected sting.
“Easy,” Gareth said. “Just breathe.”
She did, her tongue lapping against the base of Finn’s cock as she grew used to Gareth’s girth. Hands braced against the bed, she pulled back, letting Finn’s hands guide her head where he wanted it. He fucked her mouth as Gareth began to move, and Mari fought to concentrate. God, that felt so good. There was no room in her mind now for anything but pure pleasure.
“I’m not going to last,” Finn ground out.
“At this rate, neither am I,” Gareth muttered. He slowed, running a caress across Mari’s buttocks. She arched against his hand, needing his touch to ground herself.
Finn tensed, his cock going absolutely rigid in her mouth. “Now,” he said, and held her still as he jetted in her mouth. Her throat muscles worked as she struggled to swallow, but he quickly brought a tissue to her mouth, wiping off the excess semen as he crooned gentle endearments.
As soon as Finn was done, Gareth withdrew, guiding her onto her back with her head in Finn’s lap. Then Gareth slid back inside her, and she gasped at the new angle of penetration. Finn heightened her pleasure by leaning down to suckle her breasts, his tongue doing wicked things to her nipples. She breathed in his masculine scent, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck as she hovered on the edge of an orgasm.
“Please,” she whimpered.
Gareth thrust hard, pushing her over. She cried out against Finn’s chest, trembling as he continued to lick and suck. Nestled against Finn, she felt safe, cocooned and utterly pleasured.
Gareth came moments later, his groan of satisfaction prolonging her own pleasure. He gripped her thighs hard as he spent his hot seed inside her. Then he withdrew, and she felt him press a cool, damp tissue there, cleaning her gently.
Finn pressed one last kiss atop her breast and lay back, his green eyes smoky. “Come here, baby. I need to snuggle you.”
With some effort, she managed to wriggle into his arms. Gareth followed, sandwiching her in between both of them. Content, exhausted and wholly calm, she rested her head on a convenient shoulder and closed her eyes. Lulled by dual heartbeats and the movement of the train, worn out by stress and emotion, she fell asleep.
* * * * *
Gareth opened his eyes, expecting to immediately recall his most recent nightmare. But he’d had none, and that was highly unusual. He blinked down at Mari, who still snoozed contentedly.
Strange. For the first time in decades, he had slept soundly and peacefully.
That was a welcome change from the nightmares he often had, where his scientist “family” perished over and over again in gruesome alien attacks. No matter that he’d only come across the aftermath, seeing the woman who’d been to all intents and purposes his mother with her throat torn out. He still imagined the attacks as if he’d been there.
Finn told him he often tried to fight in his sleep, shredding sheets and pillows as he strove to drive the Barks away. It didn’t matter that in real life, he had driven them away, working with the rest of the Twins to drive them right out of Chicago. In the end, their area received far fewer casualties than most places.
That was small comfort in the nights to follow. At least Twins didn’t require as much sleep as a human. They could get by on two to three hours a night—less, sometimes. Right now, Gareth felt totally recharged. He figured that had much to do with the woman lying next to his brother.
Mari. He smiled as he studied her sleeping face. What a woman, and what a piece of luck for him and Finn. Gareth hadn’t been as quick as his brother to mark her as theirs, but Finn had seemed to realize from the very beginning that Mari was special.
He shook his head, sitting up to pull his clothes on. Love—or pheromones, whatever—at first sight? He’d never believed in it, had scoffed at the pair of Twins who vowed their belief in that sort of occurrence.
We looked once, the two men had said, and we knew she was ours.
As he pulled on his boots, Finn woke. Very carefully, he dislodged Mari’s head from his shoulder and re-tucked the blanket over her. While his brother dressed, Gareth drew the curtains, blinking in the midmorning sun. By now they were entering the former suburbs of Reno, rolling slowly through abandoned, rotting houses, long ago pillaged of any valuables.
Many of them had their roofs knocked off too, either for building materials or to prevent the Barks from setting up their daytime camp inside. Gareth touched his wrist at that thought, slipping his UV-saber off to recharge in the bright sunlight. Finn did the same, then visited the bathroom to wash up.
By the time they were both washed and presentable, it was time to wake Mari. Gareth did so with relish, stroking her silky hair from her peaceful face. “Hey, wake up. Time for breakfast.”
Her dark lashes fluttered, and she groaned. “Five more minutes.”
“In five minutes, we’ll be nearing civilization again,” Finn said. “And you’re buck naked. Not that I’m complaining, but if we pass any farmers, they’ll get a very nice eyeful.”
At that, Mari sprang up, spreading her appalled glare equally between them. Gareth grinned as she dove for her suitcase, breasts bouncing in a way that made him instantly hard again. He watched her with a possessiveness he’d never before felt, wanting nothing more than to coax her back onto the bed and have his way with her.
That particular pleasure would have to wait. He set out breakfast, making sure Mari had a portion as well. Despite their many flaws, the scientists who packed their food had done a good job with tucking extra provisions into their bags.
Finn pulled Mari into his lap as they ate, cupping her ass with one proprietary hand. Gareth enjoyed the sight while also making sure he kept an eye on the terrain outside. Unlike in some Cities, there were no rogue settlements outside the walls here, no shanty towns against the wall itself. That suggested that the alien attacks were frequent and vicious.
“Eat your granola bar,” Finn urged Mari.
“Are you sure I’m not making you go without?” she asked, her brown eyes serious.
“Nope. Besides, feeding you is the least we can do after this morning.” Finn bent to kiss the top of her head, so he missed the fleeting, uncertain expression that crossed Mari’s face.
Gareth considered her. “Are you okay, honey? Not hurt?”
“No—I’m fine.” She smiled, setting his heart at ease. Still, he resolved to keep a close eye on her, make
sure she was truly okay with having a relationship with them.
The train slowed as it approached Scar City. They rolled through the gates, over which someone had crossed out RENO under the Welcome to sign and written SCARCITY.
As Mari ate the last bite of her granola bar, the train came to a halt. Gareth folded the makeshift bed back into seats again and set their suitcases near the door. They were here later than scheduled, and he felt strongly that they ought to be making up for lost time.
“Do you really think this City is living on such borrowed time?” Finn asked.
“Yeah, I do. Last time I was here, there were at least a handful of humans living outside the walls. Now I see no sign of them.”
“I’d like to see if we can find some, speak to them. Maybe one of them knows where Jorge Aquino went—and why.”
“If he’s alive.” Gareth ran a hand through his closely-cropped hair.
“There’s bound to be clues somewhere.”
“Hope so. This City is going to fall real soon. Ah hell, there’s the driver. We’re going to have to give her a rundown of what happened while she was pissing around fixing things. She could at least have let us know what was up.”
Finn sent him a mental snort, and both men walked down the carriage to where the driver was waiting. Fortunately, the woman apologized right off the bat for keeping them in the dark about the mechanical problem, explaining that she’d gotten straight to work fixing it. By the time she’d had a chance to take a break, she was afraid that calling back to the carriages would alert Barks to their presence.
“I hadn’t reckoned on having Twins aboard,” she said. “When I checked the passenger list and saw the government stamp, I was damn happy, I’ll tell you that.”
Her evident admiration for them was a nice change from the open suspicion they often encountered. Gareth forgave her, even though he politely shook off the hand she placed on his arm. He hadn’t wanted to talk to her this long in the first place. Debriefing was his least favorite part of any mission. What was done was done—water under the bridge. And he wanted to get back to Mari.
“I guess you’re here for a few days, then,” he said, trying to disengage. The woman was flirting too overtly for him, and she wasn’t his type. Nor Finn’s.
“Three, at least. There’s another train coming in from Portland on Saturday, so I won’t have to be here long.” She grimaced. “Not exactly the best City to spend a layover, but at least we aren’t Bark dinner.”
“Things can almost always be worse,” Gareth said, backing away another step.
“They’re worse now,” Finn snapped at him. “Mari’s gone.”
Gareth spun. It was true. Her luggage was missing too. He dove for his own stuff, strapping his UV-saber to his wrist, and hightailed it out of the carriage into the station. Pausing, he took stock of the situation, looking around for any traces of Mari. Where could she have disappeared to in so short a time?
The damn place was utterly seething, with people demanding refunds for their tickets, workers unloading cargo, mechanics hustling toward the busted locomotive with bags of tools. Everything had a kind of down-and-out quality to it, even more so than most Cities. Peeling paint adorned the walls, and a layer of dust and grime covered everything. Most people hurried about their tasks with a single-minded grimness, as if immersing themselves in work would save them from having to think about anything in the long term.
In unspoken accord, the Twins hurried toward the main station exit, looking left and right on what passed as the City’s Main Street. Yet there was no sign of Mari. Panic welled up, slamming into his gut like a freight train. Why had she left them? Where had she gone?
Gareth cursed. “Let’s split up. I’ll take left.”
“Fine. Wait. She told us where she was going—the Wanderer.”
“All right. We’ll go there now.” Such was his panic that he’d forgotten that small detail. He was grateful Finn had remembered. They’d find her there, surely—and hopefully before one of its debauched patrons bothered her. Shouldering his bag, Gareth swung into step with his brother, heading toward the seedier part of Scar City.
Chapter Three
Mari set her heavy suitcase down at the side of the road, panting with exertion—and struggling not to cry. In their minds, the Twins probably felt fine. They’d offered her breakfast, perhaps as a kind of repayment for sex. But the last straw was them walking away as soon as the train stopped.
Mari took a deep breath. Maybe good-byes were overrated, but did they have to flirt with another woman so soon? And directly in front of her?
She huffed out, breathed in, working on breath control as a panic attack threatened. She had no idea where the Wanderer Inn was located. All she wanted to do was hide, hide and cry while her out-of-control adrenaline pumped through her blood. Her heart beat at a million miles an hour, and the hostile nature of the street she stood upon only made things worse.
Focus. She had to focus. Digging into her pocket, she pulled out the sheaf of scrap paper her father had kept beside his bed. Most of the white space was covered in his scratchy handwriting. She’d meant to study it on the train, see if it contained any clues she could spin into practical advice.
Diagrams filled the first three pages, half-sketched plans of some kind or other. Mari swallowed. Dad had always been inventing things. She flipped past the drawings, all the way to the last few pieces of paper, where his handwriting had taken a marked turn for the worse.
Scavengers, $150 offer. Valuable. No-show. Winter St. Other half???
Mari shook her head. There was nothing written here that she was unfamiliar with. Her father had slurred these words over and over, holding her hands as if he were desperately trying to communicate something. Perhaps the cancer had ravaged his memory.
In any case, it wouldn’t hurt to walk down Winter Street, would it? She pulled out her crude map of the City, orienting herself as she went. The roads were still vaguely maintained, but there was none of the buzz she remembered from living here as a teenager. Here and there, buildings had been knocked down to create areas to grow crops or keep stock.
She hurried onward, turning a series of corners. Thankfully, there were still green street signs at each corner, battered but readable. When she came to Winter Street, however, she hesitated. There weren’t many houses here, and most of them were dilapidated. Halfway down, a small knot of people squatted on upturned crates, passing around a plastic bag.
Mari winced and looked down at her map, only to look up again as someone emerged from the porch of a nearby house. The man was about her age, scruffy but clear-eyed.
“Want to buy something?” he asked.
Mari shook her head, and the man shrugged and sauntered away in the direction of the train station, a mostly empty burlap sack draped over his shoulder. She relaxed as she realized he was likely a scavenger, not a junkie, come to hawk his wares. So this was a kind of market area? That made sense. She continued onward, looking closely at the house the scavenger had visited.
With a start, she realized there was an old lady sitting on its porch. She wore baggy trousers and a long shirt. Her gray hair was cropped close to her head, and a Rottweiler sat at her feet.
“You lookin’ for a place to stay?” she asked.
“No, I’m trying to find the Wanderer Inn, but thank you.”
“Wanderer’s pretty full these days,” the woman said. “Rates are high, since trains aren’t coming through very often. I charge less than half of what they do, and I reckon my place is more comfortable and quiet.”
The quiet part appealed to her. All she wanted to do was sit somewhere quiet and recover herself.
“What do you charge?”
The old woman named a price that made her blink. “That’s lower than I expected.”
“Take it or leave it, but you seem like a good sort. You remind me of my gra
nddaughter Abigail. She left a year ago. Haven’t heard from her since. They say no news is good news, but these days, I figure otherwise.”
“I’m sorry.” Mari bit her lip. “My father passed away recently.”
They looked at each other, briefly kindred souls. Then the old lady went back to business mode. “Interested?”
“I’ll pay for one night and see if I like it.”
“Done.” She got to her feet. “I’ll show you around. You’ll be my sole lodger. I only take one at a time, and only women. I got a safe for your valuables since it ain’t too nice around here anymore. Dog-eat-dog world, though I wish it was a Bark-eat-Bark world, then we wouldn’t have near so much trouble.”
She snorted at her own joke while Mari followed her inside. The dog sniffed her politely, following its master. Inside, there wasn’t much in the way of furniture, but the place was clean. A cherrywood table in the corner was completely covered in a jumble of eclectic items, from a bottle of laundry detergent to cutlery, candles and various pieces of hardware. All were neatly dusted, even the partially-disassembled laptop computer.
“You’re welcome to make me an offer for any of that stuff,” the woman said when she saw Mari eyeing the table. “My daughter and granddaughter were scavengers. Used to bring me things to sell. I got a reputation as a middleman, so I still get scavengers dropping by now and again.”
So that explained the man she’d seen earlier. Maybe she should show this woman her father’s notes, see if she recognized anything that came from an alien ship. But that would have to wait—she wanted to settle in first. Besides, she didn’t want to come across as unhinged.
Hey, do you have anything here that might have belonged to an alien? wasn’t a very good introduction.
“I’m not sure I need anything, but thanks,” Mari said politely.
The woman let out a rusty-sounding laugh. “Tell you the truth, I haven’t been able to shift some of that crap for years. Can’t bear to get rid of any of the things my daughter found. It reminds me of her. So I let it sit there, and I call it nouveau art.”