Snatching up her blouse and pulling down her skirt, she rolled off the bed and darted from the room, getting away from him as fast as she could.
She ran down the corridor outside, pulling her blouse on as she went. What a disaster—she never should have listened to Crystal—never.
And now you might pay the price for it, whispered a little voice in her head. Just like you did on that night you agreed to go on a double date with her and wound up giving it up to Earl.
Inwardly, she cursed herself. Damn it—how could she be so careful for so many years and then repeat the exact same mistake all over again?
Brandi had no idea but she knew she had to get away—away from the big Kindred, away from the Mother Ship, and away from the terrible mistake she had just committed.
At this point, running was her only option and she didn’t intend to stop until she got home.
Chapter Five
“Damn it—I should have known she wasn’t a Pairing Puppet right from the start,” Slade muttered to himself angrily. There was no fucking away a puppet could smell so good—so sweet and fresh and real—or have such lifelike reactions. If he was being honest with himself, somewhere deep down inside he had probably known that.
But he hadn’t been with a female in so long and the damn eroto-lust stimulator had been tormenting him for so many years that he was desperate to sink his shaft into a willing pussy. And damn—he had to admit that she certainly had been willing. Right up until they formed a bond and he started communicating with her via their new mental link, anyway.
How is this even possible? Slade asked himself. I’m a fucking hybrid—we aren’t able to form bonds with females. So how can this be?
And how could it be that when his body finally did decide to bond, it was with a complete stranger instead of with his lovely, long-lost Cinda?
The memory of his dead mate made him angry and sad at the same time.
Damn it, Cinda—I’m so sorry! I never meant to cheat on you! Never meant to bond with that female…whoever she was.
And that was another question—who was she? Did she live here on the Mother Ship? Slade didn’t think so. She seemed to think very loudly—loudly enough that he could hear most of what she was projecting into his mind without meaning to.
She was thinking of getting off the Mother Ship—of getting back home to Earth, he thought. Well, fine—let her fucking go and good fucking riddance to the little liar.
But even as he thought it, he could still smell her sweet fragrance lingering in the air. Sinking his shaft to the hilt inside her warm, willing pussy had finally eased the terrible need the eroto-lust stimulator had caused but now he felt a new need growing inside him—a new desire for the mate he had never meant to take.
Fucking stop it! he told himself angrily. You already broke your vow to Cinda—don’t make it worse by thinking about the girl you broke it with.
Sighing, he rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees wearily. Maybe if she went back down to Earth and they stayed away from each other this whole thing could just somehow go away.
Yeah, right, whispered a sarcastic little voice in his head. When have you ever heard of a soul-bond between a Kindred and his mate just going away? When you bond, you’re bonded for life. Plus, you pumped about a gallon of seed into her—she really could be pregnant right now and you know that’s your responsibility, whether you like it or not.
It was a sobering thought and no mistake. Slade had always liked young ones—he and Cinda had wished for one, even though they knew any child they had might be taken and sold by the master who owned them both. But she had never caught pregnant—it was probably one reason the master had decided to sell her…
Slade’s mind shied away from the old pain. He couldn’t go there right now—he just fucking couldn’t. Looking around for something to take his mind off the past, he spied a scrap of pink fabric on the ground by his foot. What was that?
Bending down, he picked it up and saw it was the panties his new stranger-mate had discarded. What was her name anyway? He supposed he could use their link to try and find out but she had been so upset when she heard his mental voice in her head he decided it would probably be best not to do that.
Oughta throw these in the trash, he thought, staring down at the scrap of fabric in his hand. Instead, he brought them to his nose and inhaled…deeply.
Gods! Her scent…so fucking sweet!
Warm feminine musk invaded his senses and his shaft, which had gone down after she left, was instantly hard again. Images of her begging for his cock inside her and bucking up against him to get more as he fucked her filled his brain and he wanted her all over again with an intensity that took his breath away.
Slade gritted his teeth and pulled the panties away from his face. Now why the fuck had he done that? Why torture himself with the scent of a female that could never be his? They might be bonded but neither of them wanted to be. The girl had practically pulled her insides out to get away from him the minute he started using their mind-link. She couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
I’ll leave her alone, Slade told himself, getting off the bed and tucking his still-hard shaft back into his black leather trousers with difficulty. That’s what she wants and it’s what I want too.
He looked down at the lacy pink panties in his hand.
And I’m going to throw these fucking things away as soon as I find a trash receptacle.
But somehow, though he passed by a conveniently placed receptacle as he left the Pairing House, he found himself tucking the lacy pink scrap of fabric into his pocket instead.
Chapter Six
“I swear to God, Brandi, you are no fun! Why won’t you tell me what happened?” Her cousin’s voice over the phone sounded shrill and whiney, getting on Brandi’s nerves.
“I told you yesterday,” she snapped, holding the phone to her ear with one shoulder while she gathered her purse and car keys. “We had sex and I left—the end.”
“If that was all there was to it, why were you in such a damn hurry to get off the Mother Ship yesterday?” Crystal demanded. “I swear you ran out of there like your hair was on fire and your ass was catching!”
Brandi gritted her teeth in frustration. She preferred not to remember the mad dash to get back to the tour group and the way she’d been looking anxiously over her shoulder the whole time, afraid that Slade would come after her. To make matters worse, she’d left her panties behind and put her shirt on backwards and inside out in her haste.
Her disheveled hair and disarranged clothing made her feel like she was doing the walk of shame all the rest of the tour. And it didn’t help that the big Kindred’s cum had been dripping out of her the whole time, making her inner thighs unbearably sticky. It had been ages until she could get to a public restroom—a “fresher” the Kindred call them—and try to clean up.
That uncomfortable memory brought back his words as she was trying to get away from him.
“I hope you’re happy sweetheart—in addition to forming a permanent bond with a complete stranger, I might have just planted a baby in that sweet little belly of yours. Is that what you wanted?”
“No,” Brandi muttered. “That isn’t what I wanted at all.”
“What are you talking about?” Crystal demanded in her ear. “What do you mean, this isn’t what you wanted?”
“Look, Crystal, I’m going to be late,” Brandi snapped. “Unlike you, my job is nine to five, not five to whenever the club closes. And I still have to drop Emmie off at pre-K so I have to go.”
“All right,” her cousin grumbled over the phone. “But you have to promise to spill the dirty details later. I know there’s more to this story than what you’re telling—I know it.”
“Fine, we’ll talk later,” Brandi said, though she had no intention of telling her cousin exactly how disastrously her Kindred sex encounter had ended. Those shameful and mortifying details she intended to take to her grave.
/> She hung up, her thoughts still preoccupied with the big Kindred.
At least he didn’t stop me from leaving the Mother Ship and he hasn’t followed me down here, she told herself hopefully. Thank goodness they had put down Crystal’s name and address on the visitors form they were required to sign out before boarding the Mother Ship! And he hasn’t projected his voice into my head again either.
But though it was true there was currently radio-silence from the big Kindred, she could still feel him in there, somewhere—like a fly buzzing at a distant window or music turned down so low you could barely hear it.
Stop it, Brandi ordered herself. Don’t think about it and it will go away.
Right, like that strategy had ever worked before. But it was the only strategy she had at the moment so she decided to go with it.
“Mommy,” her daughter Emmie wailed from the other room. “Charlie has my shoe and he won’t let it go!”
Brandi suppressed a sigh and hurried from her bedroom into the living room of the double-wide trailer she lived in with her mother and stepfather. Charlie was the Boxer-Lab mix her mother, Ivy-Mae, had brought home after winning the “grand prize” in her regular Tuesday night bingo game. He was two years old but still acted like a puppy which meant he loved to chew things. If she wanted to save Emmie’s only good pair of school shoes, she needed to get them away from Charlie fast.
“No, Charlie, bad dog—bad dog!” she shouted, rounding the corner and snatching at the Dora Explorer tennis shoe in the dog’s mouth.
Charlie growled playfully and pulled back. The toe of the shoe where Dora’s head was, was clamped firmly between his front teeth. Clearly he thought this was a game of tug-of-war.
“Mommy, he’s gonna tear it! He’s gonna tear Dora!” Emmie was standing there with tears in her eyes, wearing her favorite pink jacket that she had to wear rain or shine, hot or hotter—since they really didn’t get cold weather in Florida. She had her backpack on already and her long blonde hair neatly brushed. She’d gotten the hair from Earl, though her big brown eyes were definitely from Brandi.
“No he’s not.” Brandi had a sudden inspiration. “Emmie, run get Charlie’s chew-toy,” she told her daughter. “The rope with a knot in the middle—go get it, quick!”
Understanding flashed in Emmie’s eyes and she took off like a shot, headed for the other end of the double-wide where Ivy-Mae and Bud’s bedroom was located. Brandi wished for the hundredth time that she could afford to move out of the trailer park, or at the very least get a trailer of her own. But her meager secretary’s salary put that dream out of reach at the moment. Still, maybe if she could scrape up enough money to take a few more night courses…
“Here it is—here it is!” Emmie rushed back excitedly, waving the tough nylon rope over her head triumphantly.
“Great! Thank you, Emmie-bear.” Grabbing the rope, Brandi waved it tantalizingly in Charlie’s face. “Come on, boy—come on. Look, it’s your favorite!”
She tickled the dog’s nose with the frayed end and, as she had hoped, he finally dropped the shoe and grabbed for the blue nylon rope instead. As he shook his head, growling playfully at the rope, Brandi examined the little tennis shoe.
“Eww, Mommy! It gots dog slobber all over it!” Emmie exclaimed. “Dora looks like she’s crying.”
Quickly, Brandi wiped the slobbery toe of the shoe on the cheap carpet.
“Look, now she’s happy again,” she told Emmie, making her voice cheerful although she certainly didn’t feel in the least bit cheerful.
If they didn’t hurry, she really was going to be late and her boss, Mr. Grabbar, would use it as an excuse to write her up. Then he would insinuate that she could get out of any disciplinary action if she would let him grab her ass or play with her breasts. Honestly, the man had no shame and he got harder to deal with every day! Brandi had never let him touch her once but he never let up or stopped trying.
Trying to put the idea of her disgusting boss out of her mind, Brandi slipped the slightly-worse-for-wear Dora shoe back on her daughter’s foot and grabbed her hand.
“Come on, sweetpea or we’re going to be late. You don’t want to miss story time, do you?”
Emmie’s eyes lit up.
“No way! I love story time! Mrs. Smith says I’m the best reader in the class,” she added proudly. “In fact, I’m the only one who can read at all.”
Brandi’s heart squeezed with pride and she bent down to kiss her daughter’s rosy cheek.
“That’s my smart girl!”
Emmie ought to be good at reading, she thought—Brandi made a point of reading with her daughter every night. No matter what else was going on, they never skipped reading time. It was her favorite part of the day and also one of her favorite parts of being a mom. Her Grandma Ida had read to Brandi when she was Emmie’s age, giving her a love of books and learning that was wholly absent in most of the rest of her family.
Brandi remembered with a twinge of longing for her grandmother how she had read all the kid’s classics from The Cat in the Hat to Winnie the Poo to Sunny with a Chance of Meatballs. Of course, for her own reading enjoyment, Grandma Ida had loved those old bodice-ripper romances that all seemed to have a woman in a torn dress swooning over the arm of a muscular, usually shirtless hero.
Come to think of it, the men on those bodice-rippers looked a lot like Slade, whispered a little voice in her head. Brandi caught herself wondering what her grandmother would have thought of the big Kindred before she pushed him firmly out of her head and hustled Emmie out the door.
She got Emmie strapped into her booster seat and then settled herself behind the wheel of her ancient Chevy Malibu. The car was so old it would have been considered a classic if it hadn’t been so rust-eaten and junky. Brandi had gotten it third-hand from a friend of a friend for a good price—all she could afford—and she prayed daily that it would just keep running a little while longer.
The air was out because it had a Freon leak so she had to drive with the windows open, but that was just too bad. She couldn’t afford either expensive repairs or a new car payment right now—not on top of Emmie’s after-school care which ate up almost all her disposable income.
Usually the old car was clunky but reliable but today it seemed her luck had run out. When she twisted the key in the ignition, the engine sputtered and tried to crank but when it finally started, a warning light came on and black smoke started to seep out from under the hood.
“Oh no!” Brandi turned off the ignition quickly. “What in the world? What could make it smoke like that?”
“What’s wrong, Mommy? Is the car sick again?” Emmie asked.
“I’m afraid so, sweetpea.” Brandi felt her heart sink. Who could she get to fix the ancient car this time? Right up until he’d gone to jail, Earl had done all her auto repairs. Even after they divorced he was willing to keep on servicing her vehicle as long as he got to see Emmie. Now that he was out of her life, Bud was pretty good at fixing the old car when it broke down. But her stepfather was in the middle of his shift at the Firestone warehouse and she knew he couldn’t leave to fix her car.
What was she going to do?
Maybe it was just a one-time thing. Maybe the car would be all right if she gave it another try, Brandi thought desperately.
Experimentally, she cranked the ignition again and was met by another belch of black smoke from under the hood.
“Looks like you’ve got a problem.”
The deep growling voice was unsettlingly familiar as it came floating in her open window.
Brandi killed the engine again and looked over to see Slade standing there, just to one side of the double-wide. He was dressed in the usual uniform of the Kindred—black leather trousers and boots—but instead of wearing a long-sleeved button-down shirt as he had yesterday, he had on a short-sleeved cotton t-shirt which showed off his muscular biceps and clung lovingly to his sculpted pecs.
Brandi bit her lip in consternation.
Oh he
ll, what am I going to do now?
The big Kindred was standing there with his arms crossed over his broad chest looking like seven miles of bad road, as her Grandma Ida would have said, and since her car was broken, there was no way to get away from him.
Then the passenger side door clunked open and a small blur shot from the car and made a bee-line straight for Slade.
“Daddy-man! Daddy-man!” Emmie shrieked and threw herself directly at him.
The startled look on Slade’s face was almost comical but he reached down with lightning-quick reflexes and caught the little girl up in his massive arms.
“Daddy-man!’ Emmie cried again. Throwing her arms around Slade’s thick neck, she began covering his rough cheeks in kisses.
For a moment Brandi was so stunned she couldn’t even react. Emmie had always been a very demonstrative little girl but only with people she knew. With strangers she was shy and retiring, preferring to stay bashfully behind Brandi until she could be coaxed out. The “Stranger Danger” routine had been thoroughly drummed into her head, both at school and by Brandi at home, and normally the sight of a strange man—especially one as big and intimidating as Slade—would have sent her running to hide in Brandi’s shadow.
In a million years, Brandi never would have predicted this reaction from her young daughter. Yet here it was, happening in front of her face…
And you’re doing nothing about it! whispered a fierce, scolding voice in her head. That’s your child, Brandi and you barely know that man!
“Emmie!” she gasped, her paralysis breaking at last. Charging out of the car, she ran over to where Slade was still holding her daughter in one muscular arm, a bemused expression on his face. “Emmaline Clair Dixon!” she exclaimed, reaching for her daughter. “What do you think you’re doing? Get over here right now.”
But to her further surprise, her daughter resisted being pried out of Slade’s arms.
“It’s the Daddy-man, Mommy!’ she protested, evading Brandi’s hands when she tried to reach for her. “He’s going to be my new daddy. I know because I dreamed it!”
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