Maverick

by Cheryl Brooks

  Losing Althea was liable to cause permanent damage to his own mind and spirit. Zetithians mated for life. If they lost their mate, they didn’t bounce back and find new loves overnight. Years would pass before he would recover enough to love again, if indeed he ever did. She was the source of light in his life. Loving her gave him greater purpose than he’d ever known before. Without her, empty, endless days and nights were all that lay ahead. The years they’d spent apart had strengthened the bond between them, making their reunion as inevitable as the rising and setting of the sun on any given planet in any star system in the galaxy.

  He glanced down as a tiny hand grasped his finger. The moment his gaze met the monkey’s huge, round eyes, a silvery filament curled between them, visible yet as insubstantial as smoke. When the Guardian blinked, the filament dissipated as though it had never been.

  His spirits brightened almost instantly. Had the Guardian sensed his pain? Had he removed it in those wispy strands of thought?

  The little primate uttered a single chirp, then climbed up his arm to sit on his shoulder. Leaning his head against Larry’s temple, he made an odd cooing sound, then wrapped his long, furry arms around Larry’s neck, cradling his chin in his tiny palms.

  “He has chosen you,” Keplok said from the far corner of the room. “I believe you had better give him a name.”

  From the look of things, several of the monkeys had chosen Keplok. Larry hadn’t noticed his brother sitting there before. Even now, he could easily have missed him if he hadn’t spoken. Althea was only surrounded by seven monkeys. Keplok must’ve had more than a dozen, some curled up in his lap and some perched on his shoulders while several others clung to his arms and lower legs like a lifeline.

  “Have you named all of yours?” Larry asked.

  “Yes,” Keplok replied. “They know who they are. They also know that I have missed them terribly.”

  Once again, those words seemed out of character for the brother that he knew. Perhaps he didn’t really know him at all. “Do they always hang all over you like that?”

  Keplok shook his head. “They have been traumatized and require time—and music—to help them recover.” His smile was almost embarrassed. “They like for me to sing to them. You might say that’s how we met.”

  “I see,” Larry said, although picturing his rather stoic brother playing guitar for an all-monkey audience was actually rather difficult—that is, if he intended to keep a straight face. “How come you aren’t singing now?”

  “I require time to recover as well.”

  “Gotcha.” In the immediate aftermath of their adventure, Larry hadn’t had the luxury of succumbing to exhaustion. He would conk out eventually, but for the moment, concern for his passengers’ welfare overrode his own need for rest.

  As though he’d read Larry’s mind and was lodging a protest, his new friend tapped his cheek.

  Larry aimed a sidelong glance at the monkey. “Shemp seems to think I could use a little shut-eye myself.”

  “Who is Shemp?” Dartula asked, clearly puzzled.

  Larry pointed at the Guardian on his shoulder. “Him.”

  “He is very wise,” Keplok said gravely. “Why the name Shemp?”

  “It’s a long story,” Larry replied. “But trust me, it fits.”

  Keplok shrugged. “We would appear to have plenty of time.”

  Larry yawned, leaving him to wonder whether Shemp had placed the thought of sleep in his head. Perhaps he had. Sleep would undoubtedly heal him as surely it would heal Althea. All he had to do was let it. “I’ll tell you later. But first, we need to get these kids settled in for the night.”

  He crossed the room to where Althea lay on the sofa. Asleep or comatose, she was still beautiful. When he bent down to kiss her, the moment his lips touched hers, her voice echoed through his mind.

  “Sleep well, my love.”

  Whether he’d truly heard her or only imagined her voice, a rush of tingles flowed along his spine, and he smiled as he gazed at her through a film of tears. “Good night, Al. See you in the morning.”

  Al seemed comfortable enough on the sofa, and because the Duo was now a couple—presumably, Brak and Glyssia formed another—that left three available rooms for the kids to share. Larry hoped they wouldn’t mind bunking together, particularly since they had been housed in cages only a few hours before. The Guardians seemed capable of sleeping anywhere—case in point, the three that were currently snoring in Keplok’s lap—and while they seemed to like the main lounge well enough, Larry was a little concerned with the toileting arrangements.

  “Don’t suppose you’re housebroken, are you?” he asked Shemp.

  The little monkey actually grinned and chirped.

  Larry stared at Shemp for a long, astonished moment before glancing at his brother. “Do they really understand Stantongue?”

  “So it would seem,” Keplok replied. “However, understanding them takes considerable practice. Even I am not always able to interpret their chatter.”

  “Too bad Al’s mom isn’t here,” Larry said with more than a trace of regret. “She could tell you exactly what they were thinking. Although right now, I’m guessing they’d like to find a bed as much as the rest of us.”

  “Probably so.”

  “I’ll poke around and see what I can find. There are bound to be some crates and packing material in the hold that would make good monkey beds.”

  For the first time, Keplok’s chuckle reminded Larry of their mutual father. “Perhaps Shemp can advise you.”

  Larry stroked the monkey’s tiny head, somewhat surprised at the silky texture of his fur. “I’m counting on it.”

  He was also counting on the Guardians to restore Althea to normalcy.

  Beyond that, he honestly didn’t care what the little buggers did. They could have the entire ship smelling like a zoo and devour every scrap of food in the stasis unit with his blessing. He might’ve been concerned for his passengers, but he loved Althea with every fiber of his being.

  “Right then,” he said with a sigh. Noting the sleepy faces and yawns of the children, he waved a beckoning hand. “C’mon, kids. Let’s get you all to bed.”

  Chapter 28

  Althea awoke to the sound of something purring or snoring—she wasn’t sure which. She was warm and comfortable; no pain racked her limbs. She was hampered only by an overwhelming thirst and a heavy lassitude that dampened her customary vigor. The room swam when she opened her eyes, forcing her to close them again.

  “I saw that,” Larry said.

  “Saw what?” she murmured.

  “Your eyes. You only opened them for about a millisecond, but you opened them.”

  “I did,” she admitted. “Sorry. Can’t keep them open. My head’s spinning like crazy.” She searched her memory. The last thing she remembered was raising her hands to blast a hole in the ground. “Did someone hit me on the head?”

  “Nope. I think it was more what you did to Palorka that affected you.”

  Of course. She’d known she would feel the planet’s pain. She just hadn’t known how severe that pain would be. “I take it we got away?”

  “Sure did. Some of those idiots came after us even after your volcano erupted, but—”

  “My volcano? You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Not a chance. The ground split open, and lava spewed at least a hundred meters into the air. Pretty scary, if you ask me. But then, I’m not a Palorkan with a penchant for stealing magic monkeys.” She felt a soft touch on her face. “They didn’t trap them, by the way. They shot wide stun beams up into the trees and then gathered them up in baskets like fallen apples. Something tells me those were the last Palorkans to ever be granted landing rights on Statzeel.”

  “I’m surprised they were allowed to land in the first place.”

  She felt rather than saw his shrug. “
Must’ve told a good enough story to sway somebody.”

  “Somebody whose ass is now grass, I suppose.”

  “Probably so.” He shifted his weight and placed a hand on her forehead. “How are you feeling? Aside from being dizzy, I mean.”

  “Not too bad. Just thirsty.”

  “I can fix that,” he said. “Be right back.”

  The loss of his warm presence made her head spin even worse than before.

  That’s what you get for making a volcano.

  Granted, she’d never done that before, but by the same token, she couldn’t recall ever having been quite so woozy.

  The most beguiling and comforting scent in the galaxy heralded Larry’s return. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he slid one hand behind her head and held a cup to her lips. She was able to take a sip or two with no difficulty, but when she tried to sit up, she found she couldn’t do it.

  “I feel so weird. Almost like—” She stopped as the implication struck her with nearly as much force as she’d used to clobber Palorka. “Have you been purring?”

  “Yeah. Got a problem with that?” While his word choice seemed a tad defensive, his tone caressed her senses.

  “Not really. But I think…that is, I’m pretty sure it’s…done something to me.”

  “Unlike being unconscious for three days?”

  “Three days?” she echoed. “No wonder I’m so thirsty.”

  “You’re probably hungry too. I gotta tell you, those three days have been pure hell for me. Dartula and the Guardians were so sure you’d recover—the little buggers have been singing to you every hour on the hour since I carried you in here. Before that, they were singing in continuous shifts. Even so, although I hoped and prayed you’d wake up, I was beginning to have my doubts.”

  With anyone else, she would’ve felt their relief. Larry, however, remained a blank. Perhaps that was a good thing. After all, if he couldn’t read her emotions, why should she be able to sense his?

  In that respect, they were like any other couple—until they made love.

  “Is that why you were purring?”

  “Sort of. I sent a deep space com to your mother. She finally got back to me a little while ago, and that’s what she suggested.”

  “Seems a peculiar method for bringing someone out of a coma.”

  “She said the reverse had been known to work with male Zetithians. Well, not exactly the reverse, but something similar.”

  If Althea remembered the story correctly—and despite her current state of mind, she was quite sure she did—the “wake-up call” involved stroking the penis of the unconscious male. According to her mother, that technique worked like a charm.

  “Mmm… Think you could purr some more? Might make me a little less…light-headed.”

  Actually, she was of the opinion that hearing him purr would make her head spin even more. That is, if her theory was correct—and she’d have bet a starship that it was. Even after blasting a hole in Palorka deep enough to hit the magma layer, her cognitive functions were working as well as ever. In a Zetithian woman, vertigo combined with an incredibly strong urge to mate with one particular man meant fertility. The best she could tell, she had both symptoms.

  “Not sure I need to,” he said. “I know a much better cure.”

  She peered at him through one heavy-lidded eye. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

  “Not really. I could smell your desire even while you were asleep. You must’ve been having some pretty steamy dreams.”

  “If I did, I don’t remember them. Although I’m sure those dreams were about you.”

  “Sweet.”

  Larry might not have deemed it necessary, but his purr permeated her entire body with sensual vibrations that promised even greater delights. Still purring, he kissed her—slow, deep, and wet—until every erogenous zone she possessed felt as though it had been doused with triple-strength Sholerian cream. If the ache in her heated core was any indication, his dick had surely reached the titanium stage by now.

  “Where are we?” she mumbled against his lips.

  “My quarters—or I should probably say our quarters, since we had to move you in with me to make room for the kids.”

  “So we’re alone here? No one is going to pop in and ask us to go rescue a bunch of critters or blast a hole in a perfectly good planet?”

  “Nope. They have strict orders to leave us be.” He kissed her neck, the first of a trail of kisses that led to her left nipple, which was in dire need of kissing.

  And licking.

  And sucking.

  “That is, Friday has strict orders to that effect. And you know how good she is at keeping people out of our hair while we’re…busy.”

  “Busy doing what?” Other than driving me insane with desire.

  “Busy making love, making babies, and making—oh, I don’t know—history, maybe?”

  “History?” She gasped as he flicked a nipple with the tip of his tongue.

  “You know, creating the third generation in the Great Zetithian Revival?”

  “Is that what we’re calling it now?” Threading her fingers through his long, black curls, she marveled at the silky texture and the way it escalated her need for him. Breathing the air that surrounded him was a treat in itself, as though his aura and scent somehow made the air better than that found anywhere else.

  “Something to that effect. All I know is that the Zetithian Birth Registry stuff keeps Mom pretty happy. She gets updates whenever any new babies are born. And then there’s Dad to keep her informed in his own inimitable way.”

  “She’s done an awful lot to keep the Zetithian race from becoming extinct. The least we could do is give her a few grandchildren.”

  He sighed against her breast. “I was hoping you’d feel that way.”

  “So much that you’d already taken off my clothes?”

  “I did that before I put you to bed.” He grinned. “Didn’t want all that Palorkan dust dirtying up the sheets.”

  “Thank you.” Althea had every intention of shaking the dust of Palorka from her shoes forever. Nice to know Larry had already done it for her. “Please tell me we’re never going back there again.”

  “Wouldn’t set foot on that cursed planet for love nor money,” he declared. “Although I’d report the child stealing if I knew who to tell.”

  “Maybe the children’s homeworlds?”

  “Seems like they’d be the ones up in arms over it, although the Herpatronian boy said his parents sold him to the Palorkans because his fur was orange instead of the usual muddy brown. They said they were ashamed of him because he was so weird looking.” He shrugged. “Myself, I think he’s an improvement over any Herpatronian I’ve ever seen. Not anywhere near as ugly as the rest of them.”

  Trust Larry to find a way to make her laugh, no matter the time, place, or situation—even while making love on a starship bound for Rhylos.

  “You’ll have to fill me in on everything I’ve missed—later. Right now, I want you to fill me with…other things.”

  “I can do that.” His kisses had already strayed dangerously close to the apex of her thighs. With a loud purr, he nudged her legs apart and dove into her with his tongue. She didn’t have to focus on his feelings when he did it. The alteration in his scent was subtle but unmistakable.

  “You like doing that, don’t you?”

  He withdrew his tongue just long enough to say, “Mmm-hmm…” before plunging back inside her.

  He was still purring. The vibrations did wild and wonderful things to her body, liquefying her core and making her salivate with the urge to sink her fangs into him. She’d already done that, though. Biting him had claimed him as her mate, imprinting her with the taste of his blood and the unique flavor of the essence of Larry Tshevnoe.

  His snard was a differe
nt story—and if she was correct, it was about to do something even more wonderful than inducing euphoria and amazing orgasms. She still hadn’t figured out the significance of the orange lights. Perhaps she never would. Or perhaps this was the time.

  She let her perception volley back and forth between Larry’s feelings and her own, delighting in his enjoyment of her flavor and scent, then dwelling on the splendid sensations created by his lips and tongue. For a guy who’d never done such things until recently, he showed remarkable aptitude.

  As her pleasure began to rise, she focused on the steady climb to her climax. The joy juice orgasms were fabulous, but this… This was glorious.

  The pinnacle, once reached, triggered a release of tension unlike any other form of relaxation she’d ever practiced. No amount of herbal remedies or meditation techniques could possibly compare.

  With a satisfied purr, Larry began kissing his way back up her body, lingering for a time on her taut, sensitive nipples before moving on to her neck. The slow progression of kisses from her neck to her lips coincided with the steady glide of his cock into her tight sheath. Growling her approval, she wrapped her legs around his hips, digging her heels into his buttocks to pull him inside.

  The moment his penetration was complete, another orgasm detonated, tightening her grip on his cock. The thrilling stretch when he pushed even deeper made her groan in ecstasy.

  “Oh, Larry,” she whispered. “You are exactly what I need. What I want. What I’ve always wanted and always will.”

  “Good, because you’re never getting rid of me. Never ever.”

  A blissful sigh escaped her as she lay back, letting her arms flop on the pillow behind her head. The strength left her legs as she allowed every sensation to fill her mind and her heart. His thrusts were varied enough to keep her guessing, if she even cared to guess. She was content to let him work his magic on her any way he liked. As long as it was him—her handsome, funny, wonderfully loving pal, Larry.

  Her arms still belonged in the wet noodle category, but she somehow managed to touch his cheek. “You’re perfect. You know that, don’t you?”