“Yes, you should’ve,” he muttered into his beer.
Okay, he was also the type who rubbed it in. That particular attribute reminded her of Huw Caradoc, and she could deal with it. A change in topic always worked with Huw. Men, in her experience, had short attention spans.
“How did your errands go?” She sipped the juice he’d brought her, a courtesy that had occurred even when he’d been horribly upset with her. She’d give Damon high points for being a considerate gentleman.
“I booked our passage. We’ll be here for another two days.” He placed his empty glass on the side table by her chaise and then leaned forward, elbows on his thighs and his hands dangling between his long legs.
Looking around, he lowered his voice. “I booked us on a Myriad Line passenger ship. It’s an adult-only cruise. The starship stops at multiple adult entertainment space stations plus one adults-only resort planet between here and the jump station. The Myriad Line uses our station for an overnight night stay before using the Charybdis jump gate. Because of all the stops, the journey will take about one standard month.”
Susa nodded. “I’ve heard of the Myriad Line. Lia and Nadia mentioned them as one of the more reputable passenger lines traveling to your station, but they still advised me not to go on those cruises by myself.”
“That was good advice. Actually, for this particular cruise, you wouldn’t have been allowed to book without a male or female companion. The cruises which allow solos are meat markets, and you would’ve spent the whole trip fending off randy males and females.”
“The gals told me that also.”
Damon stared at his hands for a second or so, then looked up, his blue eyes darkened. He was disturbed, but she couldn’t quite catch what the underlying emotion was.
“What’s wrong?” Susa asked.
Damon grimaced. “This particular cruise is very popular—I was lucky to obtain the last suite…” He hesitated. “Um, the suites have one bedroom, a sitting area with a small kitchen, a dressing room, and a bathroom.”
His emotions grew stronger. He was uncomfortable, worried, and maybe a tad bit aroused? An unusual mix of feelings.
“Sooo, you’re saying we’ll have to share a bed?” Susa bit her lip. She’d assumed they’d have a suite such as the one they now shared at the resort: two bedrooms, each with a bathroom, and separated by a large sitting area.
“Yes.” He looked at her, his expression sober, earnest. “But sleeping is all that is on the table. I promise.”
Susa studied Damon’s body language and absorbed the more accessible of his emotions. He truly believed what he said and wanted her to believe him. But in her experience, proximity changed many a male’s mind when it came to his cock’s needs.
Oddly enough, she wouldn’t mind sharing his bed and letting nature take its course. He was an attractive man, and she had the freedom of choosing her sexual partners now.
But she wasn’t ready to admit that to him.
So she responded, “How about we take things day-by-day? If the sleeping arrangement becomes an issue, we’ll figure out a solution we both can live with. Okay?”
At her words, a muscle in Damon’s jaw pulsed wildly. His pupils dilated until all she could see was a thin blue rim. His emotions were a chaotic mix of territorial and elemental. Then a dark wall slammed down to close off his feelings.
Susa checked the area around them and could see no obvious danger. Had his reaction been sexual? Could he have sensed her willingness to consider having sex with him? If so, that would indicate he possessed a highly sensitive empathic sense.
“What’s wrong, Damon?” She leaned over and placed a hand over one of his. “Tell me.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” He stared at her hand on his. “When we’re on the cruise and not inside our suite”—he carefully moved his hand from under hers, picked up his empty glass and sucked out the last drop of beer—“you’ll need to stay close to me.” His troubled gaze fixed on her face. “You can’t just go off as you did today. It won’t be safe.”
“I already apologized for today,” she murmured.
“I know.” He grunted and then shook his head. “I understand you feel safe here, but the cruise will be different.”
Something was obviously bothering him about the upcoming trip besides their potentially sharing a bed, but she couldn’t pin down what it was. Empathy had its limits, although she read Damon much more easily than many other males of her acquaintance.
“What do you mean different? I can handle anything as long as I’m aware of the facts.” It was obvious Damon wasn’t telling her the whole story in one big bite, but feeding it to her in smaller pieces. “What specifically bothers you about this particular cruise? I know it’s all-adult. I’m not naive, nor am I a prude. Just spit it out, Damon.”
The One only knew, she’d had a lot of sex.
But not with him. Something deep inside her whispered that with Damon sex would be different. More intense. More exciting. Just more.
Damon looked around. There was no one within three meters of them, but he lowered his voice even more. “There’s a huge contingent of BDSM and swinging couples on this particular cruise. It’s the Kink Around the Galaxy cruise. They’re going to expect us to participate.”
Was that all? Pfft.
“We’ll see.” She took another sip of juice. Her casual statement belied her interest in what Damon meant by participation.
“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Damon’s voice rose.
One of the military guards began working his way toward them. Damon noticed and bared his teeth at the huge Volusian.
Susa smiled at the man and waved him off. The guard retreated to his post by a potted palm tree.
Well, that emotional reaction came across quite clearly—his disbelief at her reaction was mixed with plenty of male arousal. His normally luscious masculine scent heated up and grew even muskier.
“I mean,” she said in a low, calm tone, the one she used to soothe many a testy male’s heated emotions, “that a lot of BDSM is not all about the sex act. Swinging or joining a polyamorous couple or group for sexual activities is definitely a big no for me. In my mind, sex is a one-on-one activity. But if we need to be a part of the cruise’s activities—and I figure neither of us wants to stay cooped up in our suite all the time—then we’ll have to do something. So, I’m good with certain aspects of BDSM, if you are.”
Damon’s pulse jumped visibly in his neck and his nostrils flared as his eyes grew heavy-lidded. Oh, he agreed, but would he admit it to her?
Considering he co-owned a jump station where sex acts were rumored to be featured entertainment, Damon came off as somewhat strait-laced. Or maybe his reaction was because she was Borac’s cousin.
“Which Caradocs did you practice BDSM with?” Damon scowled. “Did one of the bastards hurt you? Because earlier I got the distinct impression some asshole had hit you. From what Borac told me, you were the exclusive sex surrogate for the Caradoc single males from the time you turned eighteen.”
Susa’d wondered if her cousin had explained to his business partner about sex surrogates and their role in Prime society—well, their role until recently. She wasn’t embarrassed about her previous sex life, but wasn’t sure how to answer Damon. The fact he sensed someone had hurt her confirmed he was an unusually sensitive empath. So, he’d also sense if she lied.
“The only Caradocs who hurt me are dead.” She hoped her tone conveyed that subject was closed.
“Good. That means Borac and I won’t have to hunt them down.” He looked away and then back. “And the BDSM?”
“You do realize I won’t tell you who did what with me. That would be an invasion of their privacy—and mine,” Susa said. “I’ll admit that a few of my previous sex partners had some predilection for certain aspects of BDSM. But as I mentioned, and as you should be well aware, BDSM can be enjoyed without copulation. I, for example, enjoy tight bondage, especially rope bondage. If done well, it’s f
reeing. I can float, shed daily worries, while still feeling safe.”
Damon choked. “That’s good to know.”
His simmering arousal had shot up another notch—or two or three. Inhaling, she smelled his male musk. Damon liked bondage play.
In reaction, the skin on her very exposed chest flushed hotly and her nipples tightened until they had to be noticeable through the shiny red silk of her strapless bikini top. She crossed one leg over the other as her pussy grew wet and achy. Geep mrrfed and scrambled out of the way.
Her attraction to Damon was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. This man could be very dangerous to her peace of mind.
Damon eyed her movements, then shifted his position on the lounge chair.
Her lips twisted into a slight grin as she noted the bulge in his pants. His erection was large, impressively larger than any male she’d ever had, and Prime males were normally well-hung.
Damon’s desire evoking an equal response in Susa was something out of the ordinary for her. As a sex surrogate, she didn’t usually lust after the men with whom she’d had sex. Her primary roles had been, first, to please the male by doing whatever he wished, for however long he wished, and second, in the case of the younger males, to teach them how to pleasure their mates if they were lucky to find one.
If Susa had achieved pleasure, it was because she’d taught her male partners well and they, in turn, weren’t selfish and gained satisfaction in giving her pleasure. Other than Wulf, Huw, and Iolyn, most of her Caradoc bed partners hadn’t cared one way or the other about pleasing her.
Even if she only admitted it to herself, she’d been in lust with Damon since first laying eyes on him—and she’d been scared to death at the time. Which only went to prove that sexual attraction was a very strong drive. The fact that it was now permissible for her to be attracted to any tempting male was liberating.
And Damon was definitely a superior example of masculinity.
Susa wasn’t the only woman who’d noticed that fact. Several women sitting pool side had followed Damon with their lust-filled gazes from the time he’d left the bar and made his way to Susa’s lounge chair.
Many were still checking him out. The bitches. Feeling jealous was another new experience. An uncomfortable one. She didn’t even want to consider exactly why she was so possessive of Damon.
“So, the cruise,” she began, “what’s the dress code?”
“Dress code?” Damon’s lips twisted, and he muttered what she was sure was a curse.
Susa grinned at his discomfiture. He’d obviously thought she’d be shocked by the BDSM aspect and the possibility of doing scenes with him. As far as she was concerned, a straight BDSM rope bondage or maybe even a nice flogging with a light-to-medium weight flogger was a safer activity for the two of them than sleeping side-by-side in the same bed. She wasn’t entirely sure they could do the latter without touching intimately.
The attraction between them was obvious and increasing by the second. It was also evident he was in denial of that fact. She was certain Borac being his business partner was the main issue, but there could be something else. She made a mental note to ask him point blank when they weren’t surrounded by so many interested eavesdroppers.
A frown creased Damon’s forehead as he muttered under his breath, “Fucking dress code? Is she fucking kidding me?” He pulled a small com-pad from his pocket. “Here’s all the information on the cruise.”
Susa took the com-pad and scrolled to the recommended dress code and rules of decorum. She hummed under her breath, then looked up. “We need to go shopping. I’m sure you didn’t bring leathers, right? Or a bag of sex equipment?”
“Leathers? Bag of sex equipment?” Damon snorted. “No.”
“Well, why would you? You weren’t expecting any of this.” Susa checked the com-pad again. “While we’re shopping for my new wardrobe, we can get you outfitted properly if that’s okay with you? We wouldn’t want our fellow passengers to mistake you for a male submissive.” She hesitated. “Unless you want me to top you?”
He gave her a disbelieving look, then shook his head. “No, Susa. Definitely not. I am the Top. Always.”
“That’s what I figured.” She gave him a sunny smile. Bottoming to Damon’s Top would not be a hardship. Sleeping with him, without touching, would be torture.
Susa was far too attracted to Damon, far too possessive of him, especially considering the short time she’d known him.
Something about the instant lust, the strong pull between them, niggled at her hindbrain. But an immediate answer eluded her.
Chapter 11
Late afternoon boarding, Myriad Cruise Ship Dreamcaster
“And here is the spa.” Captain Ran Mori had his hand on Susa’s elbow as he stared at her cleavage.
Damon gritted his teeth and pictured what Mori’s face would look like with Damon’s fist in it.
“The ladies rave about the Tooh Sea Salt scrub with the lolly flower oil massage. All your spa sessions during the cruise have been comped by the owners. Just hit eighty-nine on your suite’s com-unit to schedule appointments.”
Despite the dozens of stewards ready, willing—tips!—and able to show them to their cabin, Mori had insisted on escorting Damon and Susa to their accommodations. The captain had then extolled in an unctuous voice all the fabulous upgrades the Myriad Line owners had provided once they’d realized Damon was the co-owner of one of their most popular destination jump stations. Of course, once Mori had caught sight of Susa, Damon had been forgotten.
Damon bared his teeth at the back of Mori’s head. At least, he wasn’t alone in his displeasure with the smarmy officer. Geep popped his head just far enough out of Susa’s large tote to aim a wide-eyed purple glare at the man. The Ragbag was savvy enough to keep his presence a secret since the creatures were considered dangerous by everyone but Susa.
As for Mori’s reaction to Susa? Damon couldn’t blame the man. She was a vision of feminine beauty. The not-quite-brown, not-quite gold jumpsuit she’d chosen to wear made her light bronze skin glow. The silken fabric also lovingly hugged every curve the woman possessed.
Why had Damon insisted she buy that outfit?
Oh yeah, because it looked good. Of course, at the time, he hadn’t considered the fact other men would see her in it. He blamed oxygen deprivation to the brain since all his blood had rushed south to his cock. An all too frequent occurrence around Susa.
Susa allowed Mori to usher her into one of the lifts. Why was she smiling at the bastard? Did she want the asshole’s attention?
Damon sure as fuck didn’t understand why women did half the shit they did. If he ever did gain that kind of knowledge, he could make a fortune sharing those secrets with all the other clueless males.
As for Mori, Damon knew exactly what the captain was thinking. And if the bastard didn’t stop ogling and fondling Susa, he’d—unfortunately, Damon couldn’t kill the man. But a word or two in the shit-for-brain’s ear might be needed, and sooner rather than later.
Of course, it wasn’t only Mori who needed a word of warning—or broken fingers. Two crew members in the lift also checked out Susa’s ass.
Damon growled, as did Geep from his concealed ride in the tote bag. The sound of their displeasure bounced off the sleek metal walls of the life. The crewmen startled and looked around fearfully. They noticed Damon’s glare and shifted their gazes to the floor. Mori was totally oblivious and nattered on about the amenities of the cruise ship.
Susa shook her bag, effectively shutting Geep up, and then narrowed her eyes at Damon in warning. Damon raised a brow in return.
Damn, she was cute when she got pissed. His cock thought so, too. He mentally willed his randy member to behave.
The woman should be declared a walking temptation. How in the seven hells of Jupiter could he protect her from all the horny men, and probably some women, during the duration of the cruise?
He’d have a hard enough time protecting her from himself.
Susa would never tolerate him sticking by her side 24/7 like a hull-riding bacterial life form. He also couldn’t keep her locked up in their suite the whole trip. Plus, he didn’t want her to view him as the arbiter of what she could and couldn’t do. She’d had enough of that kind of authoritative crap living on Cejuru Prime.
Damon wanted Susa to view him as a trusted friend and protector—but more than that, he desired her as a sexual partner. One he shouldn’t want and really shouldn’t pursue.
During the few days they’d spent on Tooh 2, preparing for the cruise, he’d realized proximity to Borac’s beautiful cousin was detrimental to his self-control, an attribute he’d never had any reason to doubt before meeting Susa. After all, he’d loved Bria for years and during all that time, he’d never, not once, been tempted to cross the line into a sexual relationship with her.
But with Susa, Damon wasn’t sure he could toe that line. The longer he was with her, the more he desired her. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, protect her from all danger, and, more importantly, keep her all to himself. This was dangerous, uncharted territory for him, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.
While Damon had acknowledged he’d have to fight his desire for Susa, he’d been short-sighted about her effect on their fellow passengers. That was unlike him. Damon was a strategist down to his bones. This oversight was just one more bit of evidence of how much Susa’s allure was messing with his head.
Gods, he was so screwed and—worried. Why? Because if the reactions of Mori and the others they’d come across during the excruciatingly long and circuitous route to their cabin were typical, then Damon would be spending most of the trip warning off and possibly beating up Susa’s many admirers.
If he couldn’t have her, no one else could either.
He understood that was somewhat territorial, but he couldn’t help how he felt. Something elemental deep inside him was drawn to Susa and had claimed her. He had no fucking clue how he would reconcile those atavistic feelings with his role as the platonic protector he’d promised.
Prime Target Page 12