Fishtail (The Complex Book 0)

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Fishtail (The Complex Book 0) Page 6

by Demelza Carlton


  "I want to find out what you taste like, Detective," he said, ducking under the water before she could tell him to use her name.

  His hands pulled her legs apart with a gentle pressure she couldn't help but yield to. His hair was soft against her thighs for a moment before she realised why his head was between her legs. No man had ever gone down on her before. No, surely he wouldn't…

  His tongue rasped across her lady bits before it slid inside. Minali gasped as his fingers joined his tongue, working in tandem to push her to the brink of another climax. She pleaded for release once more, but he teased her for longer this time, drawing out the moment until she cried out once more at an orgasm inarguably better than the first.

  Her cries had barely died away before his mouth was on her again, urging her body toward an unbelievable third release. Minali arched her back, her head resting on the edge of the pool, unable to resist the sensations this man gave her. Didn't he need to come up for air? He must have been under the water for…for…she lost track of time as all she could focus on was the heat where he touched her, inside and out, and the building…building…

  This time she screamed his name, tangling her fingers in his hair as he gave her exactly what he'd promised – pleasures she hadn't dreamed of, because she'd never believed a man could do such things, let alone with just his hands and his mouth. Why, she hadn't even touched him, when not long ago she'd been wondering what that hard length would feel like inside her.

  His fingers speared inside her, and she squirmed, wanting something bigger and longer.

  "Sven, stop," she gasped out, feeling the pressure build under his expert caresses. "I want, I want…"

  His head surfaced, though his fingers did not. "What do you want, Detective? Tell me. I'm yours to command."

  She groaned as he hit a particularly sensitive spot that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through her. He knew it, too, she decided, holding his gaze as he watched her reaction to his touch.

  "I want more," she finally managed to say, before she gasped as his fingers changed to an even better angle, stealing her ability to speak.

  "I will give you more. Everything, I promised," Sven said, his fingers working faster.

  Minali's world exploded under his touch once more, and through it, she heard him chuckle. Arrogant merman, she thought, though she couldn't seem to catch her breath to get the words out. Instead, she let actions speak for her. She pushed him with all her strength, so that he fell backwards on his butt. Before he could recover, she climbed on top of him, hissing with pleasure as she felt his tip enter her. Long and hard and…Minali moaned as he understood what she wanted and thrust deep inside her, filling her exactly like she wanted.

  She moved her hips, squeezing him as she rocked against him.

  This time, he groaned. "Stars, Detective, but it's been a long time since I've been with a woman. If you keep doing that, I won't last long enough to…aaah…"

  Despite his words, Sven still managed to give her the most massive orgasm of the lot before he succumbed to his own pleasure, delightfully deep inside her.

  He laid his head against her breast, still heaving with how hard she was panting. "Detective, they might say Mer are the best lovers, but I would choose you over a Mer woman any day after that." He straightened, so that he could meet her eyes. "With your permission, I would like to kiss you."

  Minali tried and failed to smother a laugh. "We've just had sex. Incredible sex. I can't believe we haven't kissed. Normally that comes first."

  Sven shook his head, his expression grave. "Not among my kind. A kiss can silence a siren, if for only a moment. To take her greatest weapon from her, to ask for her trust for even a moment while she is defenceless…I've never been that brave. But for you, I would take the risk."

  Minali was lost for words. The way he touched her told her he was an expert at lovemaking, and his lips definitely knew their way around a woman's body. Yet he'd never been kissed before?

  Something she'd heard a long time ago, about prostitutes charging more for kisses than for sex, ran through her mind. Human prostitutes, not Meta. Kissing was personal to Humans, too.

  Minali moistened her lips as she climbed out of Sven's lap, feeling a rush of cool water flood her lady bits as he slid out of her. Four orgasms. He'd given her four of the best of her life. How could she begrudge him a simple kiss?

  "You have my permission," she said, before he sealed her lips with a kiss.

  Twenty

  Sven had been kissed by other women before, but none of them compared to the sweet little detective whose body had twined around his only moments before. The heat of her, the taste of her, all of it drove him completely wild like no other woman he'd ever known. His dreams of Allie paled in comparison to the reality of the woman in his arms now. Who now expected him to kiss her.

  Scared to tell her that he'd never initiated a kiss before, he drew in a deep breath before touching his lips to hers. Soft and salty, from the water in the pool, and yet as sweet as the rest of her tasted, too. Her lips parted, allowing him entrance, and he could not refuse her invitation. His hand trembled as he cupped the back of her head, deepening the kiss as his tongue twined with hers.

  Long, long, he kissed her, wishing it would never end. The rest of their bodies might have joined, but this seemed more intimate, somehow, the intermingling of breath as he stared into her eyes and knew she was the only woman he wanted.

  His body stiffened at the thought of her. Of having her, again and tomorrow and the next day and…

  Sven squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to clear his name. He had nothing to offer her if tomorrow he lived inside a prison cell. Yet his body wanted to feel her wrapped around him again, moaning his name as he gave back every bit as much pleasure as he received.

  "Detective, I am at your service. Anything you want from me, name it," he said.

  "Minali," she said. "My name is Minali. I'm not working right now, and you've seen me naked. Call me Minali."

  "Sweet Minali, thank you," he said, savouring the taste of her name on his tongue. Next time, if there was a next time, he wanted to shout her name the way she had his when she reached her climax.

  "No, thank you," she said, blushing. "I've never had quite such a good time with a man before. It's almost a pity that it couldn't last for longer. Perhaps tomorrow evening, when you've recovered, we could – " Her voice ended in a gasp.

  Sven followed her gaze to his lap. For the first time in his life, he wanted to cover his erection. "I apologise, Minali. Kissing you invigorated my body so much that it's eager to pleasure you again. As you say, tomorrow evening, perhaps – "

  The exquisite warmth of Minali's hand closed around him. "I have all day. How many times do you think you could…we could…?"

  Sven struggled to find the words as her hand began to stroke him. "Sex. No, six," he corrected himself, not caring what he said as long as she didn't stop.

  She climbed back into his lap and the slick heat of her enveloped him completely, driving all other thoughts out of his head.

  Twenty-One

  Eight times, Minali's thoughts repeated all the way home and all the way to work the next day as she staggered around on legs turned to lead once she left the water. Her thighs ached, her lady bits ached, her breasts ached and her lips felt bruised from all the kissing she and Sven had done in his private pool until they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms later on that evening. Yet she knew that if she saw him again now, she'd find it hard to resist ripping his clothes off so she could do it all over again. She'd found the perfect man, and she didn't care one jot that he was a Meta, or a merman. Sven was everything she'd ever wanted in a man.

  The moment Violet saw her, the succubus had let out a low whistle. "Wow, you sure got some action. Sven will be heartbroken. Did you get his name and phone number, or did you screw his dick right off?"

  Minali frowned. "I never treat my partners badly." Not that she'd had many. Including her ex-husband and Phil, she co
uld count them on the fingers of one hand. And in her first five minutes in Sven's arms, he'd demonstrated he was more man than all of the rest put together.

  Violet grinned. "Me, neither. I just skim a little off the top, so to speak."

  For a moment, Minali had forgotten her partner was a succubus. "What I do when I'm off-duty is my own business," she said stiffly. "Oh, and I found out about our Jane Doe. She's a corporeal naiad, and her name is Bolina."

  "Source?" Violet asked briskly.

  When Minali didn't reply, Violet concluded, "Right. The mystery man who's walking like you because you almost screwed his dick off. Got it."

  Minali failed to hide her blush, and Violet laughed.

  "We'd better get to work. That surveillance footage won't search itself," Minali said.

  The hours dragged in a haze of coffee and blurry video footage. The only advantage of sitting around doing such a dull task was that parts of her body had finally stopped aching for Sven. Minali rubbed her eyes, sick of staring at a screen. But if she didn't do this who would? Violet and Doug the Dog had each taken a desk and a snippet of surveillance footage. For three days, they'd tried to match the faces of those entering the fuzzy footage zone with those who left the zone before Bolina's murder. Anyone who'd remained in their zone during the time of the murder was either a suspect or better yet a witness.

  Minali's list was depressingly small. Even Sven's doppelganger had managed to get crossed off the list when he'd appeared in a zipper on the edge of the Main City that he'd boarded inside the fuzzy zone well before Bolina's death. That left her with two men and a woman, all of whom had walked into the fuzzy zone and remained there long enough to commit or witness the murder, before walking out again at a spot where the surveillance cameras were unaffected by the naiad.

  Was it a coincidence that her three were all Human? Not that she was complaining. Violet could keep the Meta suspects and witnesses if she wanted. Minali had had enough of weird this week already. She wanted to class Sven as part of that, too, but something held her back. He'd been too wonderful to be considered anything but the highlight of her week. Maybe she should stop by his shop, and see if he was free to meet up after work. That would give her something to look forward to, if she came up with nothing after speaking to her three possible people.

  She'd had Doug run her people through the Complex database, so she had names and profiles to go with the faces. Addresses, too. She lined up the three ID photos on her tablet screen. Why had these three people been hurrying away from the bar, barely making it to their homes in time for curfew?

  No matter how long she looked at them, Minali's eyes were drawn to the woman more than the men. Most murders were committed by men, she knew, though women were just as capable of killing. Take Allie, for example. Not that this woman looked like Allie. She had curly red hair, a rarity among the Human population, and she worked at the Uni Moon and Sixpence. She'd left the bar before closing time, but not all shifts ended when a place closed. And then she'd walked in the opposite direction to her home in Forest Dome, without boarding any kind of transport, when all the shops and things were shut for the night. There was something off about this woman, Minali's detective senses told her, though she didn't know what.

  Perhaps she was just imagining things, Minali told herself. This Rhiannon might have had a perfectly good reason to walk the way she did. She might have been picking someone or something up, or meeting someone, before she went home. Walking through the Main City at night, with a murderer on the loose, surely the woman had been watchful. She'd have seen every suspicious stranger, assessing the danger each man represented, as she hurried past. The same as Minali or any woman on her own would have done.

  That's why she had to speak to this woman first, Minali decided. If anyone had seen something relevant to the murder, it was Rhiannon.

  Minali rose to her feet. "Time to go visiting," she said.

  Violet checked the time. "If you say so. The call for witnesses should be all over the news by now – the media release went out an hour ago. Did you see the headlines? They're calling the culprit the Fish Killer." She sniggered.

  Minali would never understand journalists and their need to give everything nicknames. "Wonderful. So all our witnesses will be too busy laughing at the funny name to take me seriously. Wish me luck."

  "Good luck. I'll head out in a few minutes, too. I'll let you know if I find anything," Violet called after her.

  Minali started her flyer and had to consider a moment before she dialled up a destination. Sure, she'd go see the redhead first, but at work or home? The girl worked in a bar, so it was anyone's guess what time her shift today would be, or whether it was her day off.

  The bar first, Minali decided. Then she could swing by Sven's shop and invite him to spend some time with her this evening.

  The flyer zipped off.

  Twenty-Two

  "That's all done, Mr Grun," said the cheerful glazier. "The tank's sealed and waterproof. Good as new, or maybe even better. Just make sure you don't get any more murderers in here, and you should be right."

  Sven forced out a smile. If he could have managed not to let the first murderer into his shop, life would be much easier. Sure, he hadn't been kicked out of the Mer habitat yet, but he'd heard nothing from Minali in three days and there was a distinct chilliness in the Mer habitat, now that news article had come out about the murders. He could see the other Mer eyeing him, trying to work out if he'd killed the girl or not. Not, he'd wanted to shout at them, but no one would have listened. He knew Mer were as independent as cats – wrangling them was a full time job even without a murder to stir them up.

  "So I can fill the tank with water again?" Sven asked. He might not be able to do much about murderers, but at least he could put the crabs back where they belonged.

  "Sure thing, Mr Grun. If you spot any leaks, call me and I'll be right over to fix them."

  Sven nodded as he transferred the S-Co to pay for the tank repairs. He wished the glazier a good day and waved as the doors closed behind him.

  It was a quiet day in the shop, so he turned on the water and headed to the back to fetch some of the crabs from the temporary holding tank he'd had to keep them in. Being back in the bigger tank meant they'd fight less, and lose fewer claws. Less damage to the merchandise meant more S-Co for the crabs. Sven smiled to himself. He might not be much good at politics, but he did have a decent head for business. Who'd have thought a Mer might be good at making money? Something to consider when he got out of the Complex. Some mermen had lived on land back on Vaimm, so it wasn't like he was breaking with tradition. Fish farming was all good and well, but if he could sell the excess to the rest of the system…

  Maybe he could even see Minali again, if he spent time on the Human planets as well as the Meta ones. He'd travel the system just for her alone.

  Lost in his daydream, Sven didn't notice that the tub he was loading the crabs into had tilted, and they were climbing out faster than he could pile them in.

  At least, he didn't notice until one decided to take an experimental nip at his foot.

  Swearing, Sven realised what had happened. The floor was now covered with crabs, and some of them had escaped to the front of the shop. He caught about a dozen, dumping them in the tank, before heading back for more. It took him the better part of twenty minutes to coax the last two out from under a cabinet. It would have taken him longer if he hadn't come up with the idea of camouflaging his hands to match the floor, so the crabs didn't see them until he pounced.

  He surveyed the back room, where the only remaining claws were waving in the holding tank. Good. Time to sort out the front of the shop.

  Most of them hadn't gotten much further than the doorway, so they were easy to catch, but one particularly stubborn beast had wedged itself under the counter. A claw the size of a woman's hand waved warningly at him.

  Sven had no intention of being outsmarted by a crustacean, even if the bastard could crush his hand in
its claw. He was the ranking marine life on this planet, at least for the moment, and he wouldn't be defeated by a meal on legs.

  Extending the mottled green up his arms, he reached under the counter. His fingers closed on the back of the creature's carapace, and he dragged it out.

  Sven didn't hear the door hiss open, or the customer who entered.

  "You're going back in the holding tank by yourself. And I'm discounting you to half price. See if you survive the day, you bastard," Sven told the crab.

  A female gasp made him realise he wasn't alone.

  "Good afternoon, miss. How can I help you? Fancy a half price crab?" Sven asked cheerfully.

  The woman's face turned deathly pale as she stared at the crab. No, at Sven's hands, he realised, which were still green-skinned to the elbows. He excused himself and changed them back to brown.

  "Sorry, miss, I forgot," he said.

  Her face went from pale to almost as red as her hair as she hissed, "You're another one of those things! Pretending to be Human, taking away jobs and partners from decent Humans who deserve them! You don't deserve to live!"

  She lunged across the counter at Sven.

  Twenty-Three

  While the flyer headed to the Uni Moon and Sixpence, Minali pulled up more details on her woman. Her name was Rhiannon Rache, a thirty-two-year-old bartender and sometimes cook from Wreston. No family. Her parents had died early on in the war, but both she and her brother had survived it. The brother…Herman, his name had been. Herman had died in the terrorist bombing of the Wreston law courts shortly after the war ended.

  Both names were familiar, for the same reason.

  Minali hadn't investigated the bombings personally, but she had known the team who had. The media had quickly picked up the story that it was some sort of Meta vigilante – a suggestion put out by a very vocal group of Human isolationists known as the Humans First Party. The culprits had never officially been identified, but Minali knew they'd narrowed the list down to less than half a dozen suspects, all of whom were Humans who had died in the blast. Any or all of them could have been the suicide bomber – the explosion that had ripped the building apart had been caused by more C4 than one person could carry. Herman Rache had been one of those suspects, she was sure of it.

 

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