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Deegan's Rescue: Survivors of Paradise Book 2

Page 3

by Day, Kimberlyn


  “I know everyone is busy, and you’ve got other things to do,” she whispered, looking away from him and forcing his hand to drop away from her face. She couldn’t watch as she let him down, too afraid of seeing anger or disappointment or relief. “I don’t want to keep you from something more important.”

  “There is nothing more important,” he said. “And perfecting the Medbed will help the other humans.”

  Well, fuck. Dee closed her eyes. “Fine.”

  Tugarth’s soft chuckle was followed by his fingers running through her hair. “You can’t keep hiding, Deegan. I won’t let you.”

  That stiffened her spine. “You won’t let me?”

  He was smiling when she looked up, but it wasn’t smug. No, that would’ve been too easy. He was smiling with his whole heart—tenderly. “I know you have reasons for being afraid, but there’s a difference between protecting yourself and hiding.”

  Dee flinched. She hated when other Paradins brought up the past, their enslavement, but having him talk about it was a thousand times worse. It made her feel…dirty. She hated that Tugarth knew bits and pieces about her past, about her pain. That was part of the reason she was always hiding!

  “When do I need to go back through the magic machine?” she asked.

  “In a few minutes.” He stepped back. “You were in the Medbed for almost a full day, so I’m sure you’ll feel better after cleaning up. The bathing facilities are through that door; I put a change of clothes in there for you earlier. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  She watched him turn and leave, and wondered if he’d go farther than just outside her door. Probably not; there was a good chance he was waiting for her to flee. Though that option sounded appealing, even thinking it made her feel a bit too cowardly. So, instead, she went to the bathroom.

  The ‘facilities’ weren’t quite human in structure, but all the basics were the same aside from the wind tunnel. She tidied up and dressed in clean clothes, thankful to be free of panties crusted in diamond dust, and then went back into the main room. It looked sterile, with only a hospital-like bed and a wall of cabinets. Her gun was nowhere to be seen, and her knife sheath was also missing.

  She felt naked.

  Tugarth knocked. “Deegan?”

  The use of her full name still jarred her every time he said it; no one else called her that. Even her parents had called her Dee. She loved her nickname, thought it sounded more like her than Deegan, but hearing him roll the ancestral name was charming; the Peacekeepers all spoke with a guttural rasp humans couldn’t mimic, and it could be somewhat hard to understand. Yet Tugarth took his time with her name, made it special.

  She opened the door and looked up at him with a small smile.

  His eyes darkened appreciatively as he looked her over. “Ready?”

  Dee nodded and followed him through a maze of hallways—remarkably, it reminded her of the medical center back on Paradise. Pastel colors, sterile cabinets, and the smell of disinfectant were apparently universal in doctors’ offices.

  However, the giant tanning bed Tugarth ushered her toward seemed out of place. It sat in an otherwise empty room. When Tugarth—his name was a handful, and she was considering picking up Lanie and Paul’s nickname for him—opened the tanning tube, she was shocked.

  So. Many. Wires.

  “I want to touch it,” she whispered, already reaching out.

  He gripped her wrist, chuckling. “Tinker later, bright one. Right now, you just need to lay down and be still.” The Medbed was a giant tease.

  Dee swallowed her protests and clenched her itchy fingers. She got in and stared around in amazement while the lid gently closed; there was enough of a gap to keep her from feeling claustrophobic, so she focused on the enclosure. It was beautiful. A stunning example of alien technology…and laying surrounded by it was like offering an alcoholic a free, open bar tab.

  Not cool, bro. Not cool.

  Her brain went crazy as she studied the ins and outs, and she saw a thingamajigger she’d never seen before…

  “Be still, please,” Tugarth instructed, his voice rising from an inset speaker.

  She bit her lip and dropped the hand that had involuntarily been reaching up. “Sorry.”

  “Almost finished, Deegan. Just hold tight.”

  A prick at the back of her arm startled her, and she screeched and jolted up, pushing aside the lid with ease. “Ow! What the fuck, Tugarth!”

  “Needed a blood sample to go along with the scans, Deegan. All done.” She jumped up and glared around. He wasn’t there.

  “Tugarth?” She prodded the tiny puncture on the back of her arm, her finger coming back with a smear of blood. “Asshole!”

  Movement in the doorway had her reaching for her missing gun. When she came up empty, instinct had her crouching into a fighting stance. Her heartbeat was loud, drumming in her ears, as fear and adrenaline prepared her for battle. Tugarth stood there, watching, with a sad look in his eyes. “Just me,” he said.

  “You’re lucky I don’t have my gun with me—do you know where it’s at, by the way?”

  “Paul borrowed it to keep the ‘bossy feckin’ aliens’ in line.” He said it with a straight face, but there was a distinct twinkle in his eye.

  Dee snorted and stood up. “Gotta love him.”

  “While Henta is looking over the results, I’ll show you to your room. All the humans have claimed quarters on the same hall, with one spare left for you. We all had to shuffle around a bit to make sure everyone had a bed now that we’re all on board.” He held his hand out—just like he had in the bathing room—and Dee bit her lip, still not willing to take it.

  “Thanks,” she whispered, shoving her hands in her pockets.

  Tugarth didn’t say anything, but he let his hand linger between them for another moment. When he finally dropped it and then turned to lead the way, she noticed that his easy stride was…not so easy. Dude was tense.

  She winced a little, hoping he wouldn’t turn into a jerk over the rejection. Maybe, if she was really lucky, he’d take the not-so-subtle hint and leave her alone. His gorgeous self could easily find another human to snuggle up to, what with his intense gaze, enormous muscles, and thoughtful gestures.

  But damn, that thought hurt.

  She was brooding over who’d replace her when they reached her room. Tugarth opened the door for her—stupid, thoughtful alien!—and Dee breezed by him. Without even looking around, she tried to slam the door in his handsome face.

  That didn’t work out so well, considering how the big brute had managed to slip inside her quarters. Suddenly, with the slam of a door, they were alone. Really, truly, privately alone. With the option of a locked door…

  Dee gulped. Her bravado was gone, replaced with nervousness. “Why are you in here?”

  Tugarth stared at her, lust in his eyes, and then blinked and seemed to shake himself. “I want to see your skills.”

  Skills? That sounded…dirty.

  He pulled a gadget from his back pocket, and she squealed. The alien tech was a lot of fun to play with! She snatched it from him and whirled to find a flat surface. She wandered into the living space, which included a small table, and let her fingers fly.

  Truth be told, she completely forgot about Tugarth.

  While she’d always enjoyed tinkering with available thingamabobs back on Paradise, she’d really let her hair down upon the liberation of the Pirate’s ship. Brandon had masterminded the theft, and she’d been more than happy to help however possible—getting away from the slavers had been priority numero uno, after all—but her talent lay in figuring out the weird stuff aliens took for granted. The wind tunnel was a prime example; none of the other Paradins had been able to make heads or tails of the machine, so they’d asked Dee to take a look. She’d torn the damn thing apart and had flipped her lid at how ingenious the design was.

  Everything was heavily modeled after organic ecosystems, which had sparked her imagination. The boring, overly regul
ated innovations on Paradise (including the boring, overly regulated life support systems she’d been assigned to work on) had never allowed for her type of tinkering…which is why she’d always made of mess of personal items that weren’t under scrutiny.

  She’d finished tearing the whole gadget apart and was wrist-deep in grease when Tugarth started huffing. She glared over her shoulder and shushed him, then delved back in, giggling when she realized how simple it was. For a stabilizer, of course. The pieces were in good working order, but several had accumulated a bit of gunk. She cleaned here and there and then began to rebuild—with a few small changes.

  “What are you—?”

  “Hush!” she snapped, glaring at him again. “Just shut up.”

  His eyebrows lowered and he opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but Dee went back to work. The two stabilizers she’d owned back home had been clunky and weighted with government-required habinol clamps; the damn things were useless, but the inventors were laggies to higher-ups back on Earth. Not using habinol clamps was a freakin’ crime—as in, get slapped with a fine that would’ve landed her in the gutter—so she’d always grudgingly dealt with the annoyance. Now, with her experience getting around the clamps, she was able to work a little magic.

  When the gadget was back together, minus several parts, Tugarth sighed. “It might just take you a while to get used to our technology…”

  She grinned up at him when the stabilizer hummed to life, working like a damn charm.

  She left it, perfectly balanced and silently hovering, and went to wash her hands. The mini wind tunnel in the kitchen was a bit like a devil’s cookie jar—reach in and whhhhhhrrrrrrrrl! No activation switch, no off button, and none of the quiet efficiency that made the shower units so bearable. She’d have to work on that; who wanted to deal with blender noises when their hand was swallowed by a machine?

  “That’s amazing,” he muttered. “How did you get around the…and why did you…”

  She walked back to him. “I like tinkering.”

  “I can see that. This is amazing.” When he looked at her, there was a touch of awe in his eyes. Added to the lust, it was potent. “You’re amazing.”

  Whoa, boy.

  “Thanks.” Dee winced at how awkward she felt. She’d never actually dated back on Paradise, and then, after the invasion…well, she’d never actually dated. Period. Skipping right to a break up? It was downright painful. “Listen, Tugarth, we need to talk.”

  He cocked his head, looking more curious than concerned. Poor bastard probably didn’t know those words were the kiss of death to any kind of relationship.

  “I know you’re interested in me, in working toward marriage…er, lifebonding.” He nodded, and she looked down at her clenched fingers, which were white-knuckled. “But I don’t want that. At all. Lanie volunteered to join her brakka to seal our alliance, and I think she really loves it, loves them—but that’s not in the cards for me.”

  There were a few seconds of silence, and then Dee got up the nerve to peek at him. He was watching her, eyes soft. He looked so freaking gentle just then, as if he knew her secrets, her nightmares, and wanted her anyway.

  Well, fuck him.

  “Please go,” she said. “I’d like to be alone.”

  “Why?” he asked. “What part of being alone is better?”

  She doubted her answer would make him happy. “Please, Tugarth. I want to be alone.”

  He stalked her, forcing her to retreat until her back was literally to the wall. When his thick arms caged her, going on either side of her shoulders so he could lean farther into her space, her heartbeat kicked into overdrive. She felt like she’d pass out if she didn’t get more air.

  “Tell me, bright one. Explain it to me…”

  “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

  He leaned even closer, so that their noses touched. It was intimate and sweet and coaxing. When he nuzzled her, Dee sighed. Unfair brute, using adorable nose cuddles to get his way. “Help me understand, Deegan. I want to know more about you, and I want to you to trust me.”

  The fact was, she did trust him. Part of her—something primal and beyond rational comprehension—had already given him the stamp of approval. Her libido was also on board. It was fear holding her back, and she readily admitted it; fear had kept her alive and would keep doing the job long after her lust had been satisfied.

  Screw getting screwed.

  “I see the fire in your eyes,” he murmured.

  Dee set her jaw. Fire in her eyes. Gah—smooth talking alien! She was gearing up to tell him where to stick his oblique compliments when he swooped down and stole a kiss.

  From the second their lips touched, it was over. Done.

  Dee gave up a moan when his soft lips brushed her own, the tingle of contact making her toes curl. And then the real kiss started, when he leaned into her and their bodies fit together like two missing halves. His enormous muscles were hard and firm, a contrast to her smaller, softer curves, but they melded. His arms wrapped around her waist, cradling her, and Dee went pliant.

  He tasted like sin. Hot, wet sin. Their tongues dueled, in and out, and there was no mistaking the carnal promise. He thrust into her mouth and she sucked him in. He nipped at her lips and she moaned. They breathed for each other, gasping and moaning, until Dee pulled away with burning lungs.

  She sucked in deep breaths, boneless in his arms. Tugarth kept kissing, trailing from her lips to her jaw, sucking at her neck. It felt like he was latched straight onto her clit. Dee arched into him and panted, overwhelmed and a bit frightened.

  “Wait,” she rasped. “Please…just, wait.”

  His lips pulled away, but he stayed wrapped around her. “What’s wrong, my bright Charm?”

  Her brain stuttered. His bright Charm? Um, no! “I told you, I’m not interested in lifebonding, Tugarth. I’m not your Charm…and I’m not good with this stuff.”

  Ignoring the first part of her objection, he asked, “What stuff?”

  “Kissing stuff.”

  He laughed against her neck, his breath tickling her. “I disagree, bright one. You’ve almost brought me to my knees.”

  Dee blushed; it was stupid, what with how her tongue had been down his throat just minutes before, but her face still flushed tomato red. “I’ve never done it before.”

  His chuckles cut off. They stood there, his arms still around her waist, until he lifted his head. She tried to sidestep and get out of the embrace, but he held her hips. “Never?”

  She squirmed. “Nope.”

  The big brute narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”

  It became obvious then that he was blind. “Because I’m not good at being a girl.” There. That was honest. A gloss-over of the painful truth, maybe, but still honest. She glared at him, at his blank stare—what else did he want? Brutal honesty? “Red hair—especially bright red hair—is almost culled from our genes, so I’m a throwback. My Irish ancestors would be proud,” she muttered, knowing he had no idea what she was talking about. Aliens knew what pirates were, but Irishmen? Pah. “Freckles and pale skin and gangly limbs also deduct points. As for personality? Well, my friend Paul has called me Worker Bee several times over the years. I like working, much more so than being around other people. Hard to squeeze in kisses between tinkering, especially when the tinkering leaves me covered in grease and oil.”

  “What does red hair and tinkering have to do with being female? Or kisses?” he asked.

  Dee shrugged. “I don’t feel feminine a lot of the time. The other girls, they like to wear dresses and look pretty and…I don’t know, be girlie. I just like being me.”

  “I like you,” Tugarth agreed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You’re beautiful without trying, and the tinkering just makes you more fascinating.”

  Damn. There was no way to stop the butterflies from fluttering like ninnies.

  “Your hair is gorgeous,” he told her, sweeping a hand up to tangle in
the wild mess. “Your pale skin is lovely, close in color to my own.”

  It was true, she realized, though her skin had undertones of pink instead of purple. She narrowed her eyes on him, momentarily distracted by his skin when it suddenly darkened—flushed?—and his naturally textured skin hardened. He’d told her and the other humans that only happened when he was threatened—and she could understand why. He looked intimidating and scary, though he still held her gently.

  “And your body…” Tugarth didn’t seem to notice his own transformation; his other hand dropped to her ass, squeezing, and Dee gasped. “There is nothing so perfect, so fuckable, as your body.”

  Was fuckable a real word?

  He thrust, grinding their lower halves together. Yes, fuckable was definitely a word. She groaned and tucked her face into his neck; he smelled amazing. Impossible as it seemed, he smelled better than chocolate covered chocolate. She licked him and then sucked on his neck.

  “Please,” she whispered, lost to him and his wonderful words. “Tugarth.”

  He nuzzled her again, his mouth laying wet kisses on her neck. He kept her close and continued to grind, letting her hump his thick thigh as he built her up. The hand on her ass squeezed again, encouraging her, and the one in her hair tilted her back for his drugging kisses. Dee moaned around his tongue, trembling with need as all thought of resistance fled.

  His hand rose from her ass to her back, delving under her shirt. Tingles ran up and down her spine, numbing her to all but his touch. The first graze against her breast might as well have been magic, because her body went supernova—boom.

  She stiffened, trembling, as he cupped her through the bra. His hips never stopped moving, guiding her orgasm through its peak. “So responsive, bright one.”

  “Unh,” she answered.

  His breathy chuckles whispered across her lips, and then they were kissing again. His hand stayed where it was, cupping her breast, and sudden impatience took hold of her. She squirmed in his hold, pressing her face into his neck and sucking in desperate breaths, wanting…more.

 

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