Not to mention morally repugnant.
Deacon felt his teeth grind together as he clenched his jaw. “You said you were all under fifteen. How old were you?”
“Thirteen.”
Thirteen. A goddamned baby, and she’d been sold off to the highest bidder to be brought up as a sex slave for some pervert’s private harem.
“How old are you now?” He saw her flinch from the bark in his voice, but he ignored it.
“Twenty-five.”
The muscle in his jaw jumped beneath the skin. “So twelve years. You’ve been held prisoner and forced into prostitution for twelve years now.”
The girl shook her head and almost smiled. “No. For all their faults, the Ankharans are rarely pedophiles. I was raised with other prisoners and native Ankharan girls in the preparatory houses. They maintained me, trained me, renamed me.”
“Renamed?”
She nodded. “Kishantiana is an Ankharan name. Before I came here, my name was Kili. I was allowed to keep it in private until I left the preparatory house.”
Right, because after kidnapping her and training her to become a child prostitute, how bad was stripping her of her identity?
“And how old were you when that happened?”
“Eighteen. Then I was sold to my first master.”
“Right. ’Cause thirteen would be a problem, but eighteen is just fine.” No way in hell could he keep the disgust out of his voice. Her self-conscious shrug told him he’d better work on it, though, so he blew out a deep breath. “All right. But you’ve been here for twelve years. Have you ever tried to get away before?”
She laughed, but the sound came out sharp and bitter. “That’s all I did for the first six months. I earned so many beatings, they practically had my bed set up next to the skin-regen. No one likes scar tissue on a new slave.”
He inhaled to the count of ten and blew it out slowly. “How far did you get?”
“I made it all the way to the port once, but there was no way to get on a ship. Offworld vessels rarely get permission to dock here, and the outgoing ones are inspected within an inch of their lives. The prince has to know exactly how much profit he can expect from each load, of course. And there was no way I could steal a pod or a shuttle. When Golian was attacked, I was still too young to learn to pilot.”
“Shit.”
Her forehead furrowed. “Do you always curse so much?”
“Only when I’m about to do something stupid,” he growled. “Tell me how we’re going to get out of here.”
Chapter Seven
Kili’s heart leapt at his words, and she had to force herself to breathe through the rush of adrenaline. She felt her hands shaking and pressed them firmly against the cot to still them.
“I know how we can get out of here and as far as the ports,” she said. “I even have an idea about stealing a ship. I’ll try for a pod, but our choices may be limited. Can you pilot something larger?”
“If it flies, I can pilot it. But forget the ports and stealing a ship. I have a shuttle stashed about two klicks past the westernmost guard post on the trade road.”
Her eyes widened. Making it into and out of the ports without being detected had been the trickiest part of her plan. If he could bypass it by heading toward his own ship, their chances of success increased dramatically.
“I know the area you mean. If I get us past the post, you are certain you can locate the shuttle?”
“Hell, yeah.”
Her heartbeat picked up speed. “Good. I’m not allowed out alone, so once we leave sight of the road, I’d be lost without --”
“Yeah, well, before you go getting excited about exploring the great outdoors, how about you tell me how we’re going to get past two armed guards without so much as a soup spoon for a weapon. You wearing hairpins in that mop?”
“It won’t be a problem,” she said with conviction. “If we wait a little longer, once we call the guards to let me out, they’ll be tired and easy to distract. They already think I’m free for the taking, so if I make an offer --”
Deacon cut her off again, his expression stormy. “What the hell do you mean? I thought it was verboten to pass around your slaves on this rock. They should be scared to so much as touch you.”
Kili’s mouth twisted. “It is. But they believe I am being punished. Which I am. And if my dashim cared so little for me he would let a prisoner have me, they believe he will not care if they do, as well.”
She could feel every muscle in his body tense, and when he spoke, his deep voice had gone even rougher. “So they fucking think they can pass you around like a party favor?”
“They are not wrong.” She shrugged. “Technically, my master has cast me out. So even if they did use me, my owner would not care.”
“Cast you out? That sounds pretty permanent.”
“It is.”
He pushed himself up so he loomed even further over her. The look on his face made her shiver, even though she did not think he would harm her. Still, she had been wrong about men before.
“You mean to tell me some bastard threw you away like some old socks? And what the hell would have happened to you if I had told you no?”
She looked away. He had a look in his eyes she didn’t really want to see too closely. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
“It is true.” She shifted restlessly. “You would not need to worry for me.”
His big hand caught her by the chin and turned her to face him. “Don’t lie to me, little bit. I don’t like liars.”
He spoke quietly, but his tone carried a sharp edge of insistence. She closed her eyes. “I would perhaps be sold.”
Silence.
“Or?”
Kili clenched her jaw and fought a rising tide of resentment. “Or my master could decide I would not bring a respectable price because of my history of disobedience. Then he could choose to have me disposed of more ... permanently.”
She didn’t even recognize most of the words he used then, but she could guess they lacked pretty meanings.
“That’s why you’re willing to prostitute yourself to the guards to get us out of here. Because what’s a couple nasty fucks compared to a knife at your throat.”
She winced. “I would do anything to be free of this place. And you have no right to judge me until you have lived as I have for twelve years.”
He clenched his teeth so hard she could almost hear them protesting. “Right. Well, your plan sucks.”
She frowned. “You have a better one?”
Deacon snorted a laugh. “No, which is why I’m revising yours. I still need you to distract the guards, but I think a gangbang is a little excessive.”
“Then what do you want me to do?”
“You’re gonna be a great big tease, sugar.” He looked grimly satisfied by the thought. “The guards were dumb enough to let just one of them escort you here, so I’m betting they’re dumb enough to send just one to fetch you back. I can take one of them if he’s distracted, and if you do your job, he will be.”
Dubious, Kili shook her head. “They might be stupid, but they will never leave the door open long enough for you to strike, no matter what I promise them.”
“They won’t need to. In fact, I want them to close it with you on one side and me on the other.”
“What? How is that helpful?”
“Because the other part of your job will be to jam the lock,” Deacon explained, smiling. “While you’re whispering all sorts of dirty promises in Dunderhead’s ear, you’re also going to slip something into the space where the bolt fits in the lock. He’ll shut the door and turn the key, but the lock won’t catch. Then when he feels it’s safe to put the moves on you, I’ll take him out.”
“But the other guard will hear. He’ll come running.”
“Don’t worry about that. Once I’m out of this cage, all you need to think about is guiding us to that outpost.”
Kili stifled another protest. She had already dec
ided to put her life in this man’s hands. She might as well start sooner than later. Besides, the look on his face reassured her that he knew what he was doing. She would have to do her best to trust him.
“All right,” she said. “But I haven’t been here long enough. We need to wait a little longer before I knock for the guard.”
Deacon snorted. “If you say so. But judging from the males I’ve seen since we landed on this heap, I’d say their average time limit is about fifteen minutes. Tops.” He sat up and began tearing at the edge of the rough sheet.
“What are you doing?”
“Tearing off some cloth to shove in the lock. If I’d thought of it earlier, I’d have saved a hunk of that excuse for bread, but this will have to do.”
She watched him measure off the amount of cloth he wanted, tearing cleanly along the weave of the fabric. He rolled it into a small bundle. His hand worked with surprising dexterity for such a large man, and Kili found herself fascinated just watching him. She imagined what those hands would feel like against her skin, cupping her breasts, sliding between her legs and --
Oh, Powers! Not now.
She tore her gaze away from him and stared up at the ceiling. Think about something else, she told herself. Anything else. Now was not the time for fantasies. No matter what her body was telling her.
“Hey. You okay?”
Kili dragged her attention back to Deacon and nodded. “I’m fine. Just...planning.”
“Don’t think too much. When push comes to shove, thinking is what lands you in trouble. You’re better off going with instinct.”
She forced a tense smile that quickly faded when he reached for the belt of her lya. Her face went blank, and she braced herself reflexively against the cot, cursing the heat his touch sent coursing through her, directly to her core.
“I’m not gonna molest you,” Deacon growled, looking suddenly furious. “Calm down. I’m stashing the cloth in your belt for when you rig the door. It’s not like you’ve got a load of pockets on this thing.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “I am sorry.”
“Whatever.” He shifted away from her, hands reaching for his own belt before he hesitated. “You gonna freak if I open these up?”
“Um, no, d-- Deacon.”
“’Cause I can keep it closed, but I think it’ll look better if my clothes aren’t all neat and tidy when you call and tell them I’m done screwing your brains out.”
“Should you ... take your pants off?” She stuttered over it, but forced it out. “Won’t they find it odd you kept those on? I would think they pose a problem by just being there, neat or no ...”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “Yeah, but a soldier never gets caught with his pants down. Just unfastened.”
She bit her lip as she considered this extra step in authenticating their supposed relationship.
“Do I need --” She broke off, blushing, and tried again. “Is there anything I need to change? To do? To make it look --”
Deacon barked out a laugh. “Trust me, little bit, nothing you have on would need to come off for a space rat to get his jollies. You’re just fine like you are. Now relax. We’ve got time to kill before we need to move. But when we do, we’ll be moving fast. Can you keep up?”
Kili nodded, though she was growing more restless by the minute. She hoped they wouldn’t have to wait too much longer. She wasn’t sure she could wait too much longer. “I can do whatever I have to.”
“Just remember you said that.”
She watched as he finished stripping off his belt and tossed it to the foot of the cot. Somehow that tiny extra hint of intimacy took her breath away and made her look at him all over again. Her new vision of his bare torso intensified her building, if unwilling, arousal. Ropes of muscle layered over each other to give him the look of deeply carved, soil-colored stone. The dim light in the cell seemed to make his skin shine and she wondered if it felt as much like silk as it looked.
Deacon caught her staring at him, but he said nothing. He just looked back at her, his expression watchful, his body still. Their gazes locked, dark into dark, and an indefinite moment passed in tense silence. When she couldn’t stand it anymore, Kili looked away first, pressing her thighs together and curling into a ball on her side of the cot.
“What’s the matter?”
She shook her head, unable to speak. The wave of arousal had hit her with the force of a hurricane. She’d known it was coming, had been feeling the signs for several minutes, but she had no idea it would hit her this fast. Or this powerfully. Since she had been in service as a nitara, she had come to expect the fierce surges of desire. Her duties demanded them, for no master wanted a slave who hated the acts she performed. Or at least, one who hated the acts and had no need for them on her own.
Kili kept her eyes pinched shut, but she could hear him stirring beside her and felt the cot dip as he shifted. His hand closed over her shoulder and she trembled. Her skin was becoming more sensitive every second. If she could have crawled out of it, she would have.
Please, Powers, not now!
Chapter Eight
Deacon’s forehead creased in concern as he stared down at the girl in his cot. A few minutes ago, she’d been acting pretty normally, given their situation. She’d been nervous but strong, displaying a determination to extricate herself from her current situation that he had to admire. Then he’d touched her to slip the cloth into the belt of her ridiculous excuse for clothing, and she’d snapped. She’d gone all tense and nervous, as if she expected him to rape her, and curled herself into a protective ball.
Shit.
He hesitated, unsure what to do. Finally, he swore under his breath and put his hand on her shoulder. “What’s the matter?”
The girl just shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut as if she’d just seen the bogeyman. Was he really that bad?
“Look,” he growled, then stopped himself and tried again, a little less rumbly this time. “Look, I promise you I’m not going to hurt you, okay? We’re both gonna get out of here, but you need to calm down. If you can’t concentrate, you can’t help me out. And if I could have done this on my own, I’d be outta here by now.”
When he said that, her eyes flew wide open and her lips parted. She looked pretty upset by the comment. What the fuck had he said wrong this time?
“I just mean that I need you to focus,” he said in an attempt to clarify. “If you just keep hold of yourself and stay calm ’til we get on the shuttle, we’ll be fine.”
Did he just hear her whimper? And it looked like she was shaking now, her whole body vibrating. He could see the goosebumps rising on her skin, as well as ... shit! Her nipples were getting hard!
Deacon snatched his hand back as if he’d been burned and leaned backward away from the girl “Whoa. I don’t know what --”
That’s all he managed to get out. The rest of whatever he planned to say got lost in the warm, hungry depths of her mouth when she threw herself at him, locking her arms around his neck and kissing him with frantic purpose.
What the fuck?!
His hands automatically went up and back to curl around her wrists, intending to pull her off him and demand to know what was going on. That’s what he intended, but then her tongue slipped past his lips to tease the roof of his mouth, and he forgot his intentions.
He groaned and slid his hands around to grasp her hips, surprised to feel how narrow they felt. They’d looked deliciously flared the last time he’d tried to avoid looking at them ...
Right. This wasn’t supposed to be happening.
Tightening his grip, he prepared to push her away again, but the little devil must have read his mind. She squirmed closer and slung one leg around his hips, using her new leverage to press herself against him. Then one of her hands left its grip on the back of his neck and insinuated itself between them to take advantage of the open button on his pants and close around his cock. Which had the damned nerve to weep in gratitude.
She started t
o make these little whimpering noises that drove him out of his mind. He could feel his eyes rolling back in his head as her small hand brushed over the tip of his cock and used his own moisture to begin a slick, sliding caress up and down his length.
Holy shit.
He felt himself tensing with the pleasure of her insistent touch. To say she’d surprised him might be a wee bit of an understatement. Where had his timid little rescuer gone and this hot, sexy woman come from?
And in a few seconds, would he really care?
Gathering up every ounce of his willpower, Deacon tightened his grip on her hips and gently pulled her away. She made a mewling sound as if he’d caused her pain and immediately reached for him again.
“Whoa. Hold on. What’s going on here?”
Her hands tried to pull him closer, her eyes unfocused and looking almost frenzied. “Please. Pleasepleaseplease,” she chanted, trying to wriggle out of his grip to get closer to him. “Need. Need you.”
“Wha--”
She didn’t even let him finish the word, just planted her hands on his chest, used the element of surprise to push him into leaning back on the cot, and dipped her head to close her mouth around the head of his cock.
Dirty pool!
He bit out a curse and felt his head dropping back to rest on his shoulders. She began to suck him in deeper, taking more and more of his shaft between her warm lips. He had a hard time believing this was happening. Of all the things he might have expected from her after speaking to her for the last hour or so, this was not one of them. She had almost turned into another person. Though if a woman had to have a split personality, he supposed this manifestation was better than some of the alternatives.
Shit. This was better than most ways he could think of spending his time. Better than anything he’d ever felt before. Better than the meek, submissive, sex object routine she’d --
The Bargaining Page 3