In The Corsair's Bed Page 6

  Then I wonder why the hell that thought popped into my mind. I'm not having sex with Tarekh. We're just friends.

  But then I think of how he said my name while he stroked his cock. Just letting off steam, maybe? Perhaps I'm the only female to jerk off to other than Fran and she's married?

  Thinking of Fran reminds me of what she told me when I first joined the crew. Doesn't mean he can't love you from afar.

  I thought she was full of shit. Now I wonder.

  Tarekh returns a few moments later, his pants fastened and his belt in place. He gives me a half-snarl that doesn't scare me as he saunters past. "You should learn to keffing ask if it's safe to come in."

  "You should keffing learn not to stroke your wang during daylight hours," I retort, though I'm secretly pleased. I think of the husky little way he said my name. God, I liked that far too much. What is wrong with me? I swing my legs, a mixture of anxious and amped up. Something about catching him in the act like that has changed everything, but I'm not quite sure what it is.

  He just grunts at me, pretending to be surly, and goes to his inventory panel on the computer, pretending to check shit out. "What do you want?"

  "Someone ate all my noodles in the mess hall," I say lightly. "Don't suppose you know who that is?"

  Tarekh just glances over his shoulder at me and a sly grin curves his mouth. It's like a punch to the gut, that clever little smile of his, and I'm left breathless with how handsome he is. No, I decide. Not handsome. He'll never be handsome by anyone's standards, and I'm fine with that. But there's no denying he's appealing. It's his personality, his strength, and his playful mind. His protectiveness when it comes toward me, and his utter contentment to just be my friend if that's all I want.

  Doesn't mean he can't love you from afar.

  Oh god, I'm not sure I want to just be friends anymore. I'm so confused.

  "Wasn't me," he says, and it takes me a moment to realize we're still talking about noodles. Seems funny to do so when my world's changed in the space of a few minutes. The noodles were before I caught him secretly rubbing one out in my name. Tonight, I'm probably going to do the same, just to see how it feels.

  The thought makes my pussy clench, and I cross my legs, pressing my thighs tightly together. "What are you up to?" I ask, changing topics.

  He grunts. "Inventory."

  "Like you can find anything in this pig pen," I tease, reaching out with one foot to nudge his swishing tail. I keep cleaning up after him in here and he keeps messing it up again. The man thrives in chaos, which is kind of cute—no, funny. It's funny.

  Cute is for boyfriends. He's not my boyfriend.

  Doesn't mean he can't love you from afar.

  Arrrrgh.

  "You look restless," he tells me, tapping a button on the panel before glancing back over at me.

  I don't tell him that he's the cause of my restlessness. I'm not that brave and I haven't sorted my own head out yet. I watch his tail swish back and forth, showing the agitation he won't, and decide a different tactic. "Thinking about other planets and what I'm going to do once we finish this blackmatter run."

  He turns and looks at me fully for the first time since I came in the room. "Oh? You're not staying on the Fool?"

  "No, I think I am," I say quickly. "But I'm just thinking about options."

  Tarekh nods and picks up a pack of plas-wraps. "Smart. I've been a lot of places. You can ask me about ’em if you want. Tell you what I know."

  "Tell me about Homeworld," I say, curious about the main planet his people hail from. I know from talking to the crew that the mesakkah have spread to other planets, but most still say they're from Homeworld or are only a generation or so removed. There's a lot of cultural pride surrounding that place from what I can tell.

  "What do you want to know about it?" He puts a big hand to the back of his neck and rubs, tilting his head back and forth in a way that I find fascinating. I can't stop staring.

  Damn it, why are all of his movements suddenly fascinating? Just because I caught him jerking his dick? What the fuck is wrong with me? I shake my head to clear it. "So they all look like you there, right?"

  He chuckles and tosses the rolls of bandages into an open cabinet, and they bounce right back out. "Not if they're lucky."

  For some reason, that irritates me. I hate it when he calls himself ugly, as if having a pretty face is the only virtue a person can have. "Well, then I don't want to go there."

  Tarekh gets really still. He blinks and then looks back over at me. The mesakkah can't move their brows, but I've learned to interpret the set of his mouth and it's clear he's a little perplexed. "Are you…flirting with me, Cat?"

  Flirting? Flirting???

  He sounds so astonished that the vehement denial on my lips changes to something else. "What if I am?"

  The big lug just rubs his jaw. "Don't mind me saying, but you can do better."

  Grr. "Maybe I don't want to. Ever think of that?" My heart's racing. I don't have a single idea of where I'm taking this conversation. All I know is that I don't want him to think that I find him ugly. Never that. Never.

  Instead of looking pleased or flattered, or even surprised, his expression grows distant. His expressive mouth flattens and I can tell he's pissed. That tail whips in the same direction twice before flicking in the opposite direction like an angry cat. "I thought we went over this. You don't need to fuck me—or anyone else on this ship—out of gratitude. You earn your place with work. You don't have to earn it on your back."

  Anger explodes in my mind and I leap off of the med-bay bed. "How fucking dare you?"

  His eyes go wide at my fury. Tarekh reaches for me. "What? I'm just saying—"

  I shove at him with both my hands, palms on his warm, fuzzy chest. God, I hate how even that feels nice. "You fucking fucker. You think that's something I'd really do? After my past? After the last two months? You think I'd just pity fuck you because hey, what's one more dick and Tarekh could use a good lay? Fuck you." I shove past him and slide away before he can grab me to stop me. "FUUUUCK!" I yell at the top of my lungs and slam a fist into the wall as I storm out of the med-bay.

  That fucking asshole. Pity fuck indeed. So much for flirting with the guy. I'm so mad I could scream.

  I do. Again. Just because it feels good to snarl at the universe.

  Then I storm into my room—that used to be Tarekh's—and lock him out of the door override so he can't disturb me.

  10

  TAREKH

  Cat’s vehement reaction surprises me. Why is she so mad?

  I’m still rattled and recovering from the fact that she caught me jerking off. She acted like it was nothing, but a few moments earlier and she would have heard me groaning her name. I don’t want her to know that I’m obsessed with her. That I’ve considered her mine ever since she tried to stab me in med-bay with my own needle. She’s not interested in me like that, so it’s just another thing I’ll bury deep and smile through. That she’s safe and happy is enough for me.

  My heart, anyway. Maybe not my cock, but my heart for sure.

  Her flirty offer just makes things worse, though. Because I want to say yes to what she’s suggesting, more than anything. But I also know it’s wrong. Not only because she’s not ready, but because she doesn’t feel the same way I do. If she touches me, I don’t want to see that dead look in her eyes. The “I’m going to endure this because I have to” expression I’ve seen on whores. I want her to touch me because she wants me as bad as I want her, or it’s no good.

  And I know she’ll never want me like that.

  Fran jogs down the hall, a confused look on her face. She glances over at me as she passes med-bay. “What’s eating Cat?”

  “She’s fine,” I say.

  Now Fran gives me an incredulous look. “She’s cursing at the top of her lungs. What about that tells you that she’s fine?”

  I shrug. “Okay, she’s mad at me. Either way, it’s fine.”

  Fran looks dow
n the hall, as if determining whether or not to go after Cat, and then turns to me. “What did you say to her?”

  I can feel my horns getting hot. Just a little. “Ain’t nothing. I might have suggested something that pissed her off.”

  She smirks. “She found out you ate all her noodles?”

  I rub at my bald head. “Er, no, not exactly. I mean, she did, but that’s not what she’s mad about.” I wonder if I should keep it a secret, but then again, Fran’s human. She’ll know what I did wrong if it’s a human sort of thing versus a Cat sort of thing. “Can I talk to you a second?”

  “Of course.” She follows me into med-bay and kicks aside one of my old tunics. “God, you’re a slob. Didn’t Cat just tidy this place up for you?”

  I shrug. She might have. “She likes to annoy me with shit like that.”

  “More like she likes to look after you,” Fran says, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against the wall in a move so much like Kivian I’d laugh if I wasn’t so confused at the moment.

  “Look after me?”

  “Of course. Out of all of us, you’re the one she’s closest to. She gets along with the boys and me, but it’s you that she turns to for everything. You haven’t noticed that?”

  I’ve seen Cat straightening up, of course. Within a few days, she had my wreck of a room all cleaned out and tidy. Figured she just liked neatness and nagging me, and that’s why she’s always getting in my space and picking up my clutter. Thought she was just picking at me and making sure people knew she had value.

  But from the way Fran’s smirking at me, I think I’m wrong.

  “She was flirting with me, I think,” I admit. “And I might have told her I didn’t want her pity.”

  Fran smacks her forehead with the palm of her hand, and a heavy sense of dread settles in my gut. “You keffing idiot!” she exclaims.

  “What?”

  “She likes you.”

  I’m perplexed. “Of course she likes me. We are friends.

  “No, you dweeb. She likes you.”

  This must be one of those translation things. “Explain.”

  Fran rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re so obtuse. Okay, let me spell it out for you. She’s your shadow around the ship. She gets along with everyone, but she spends her time with you. You two have this weird little thing going on that we’ve all noticed. Like the noodle games.”

  “It is because we are friends—”

  “So you do the same to Aly and Sentorr? To Kiv? To me?”

  I frown, because of course not. They would not react the same as Cat would. Aly would snarl, Sentorr would sputter. Kivian would laugh, and Fran probably would, too. Only Cat would get this wild gleam in her eyes and decide how best to take revenge on me. I admit that’s my favorite reaction. I live to see her smiles. “None of that means anything.”

  “Riiiight. And how about when she gets mad when you say you’re ugly? Or if Aly makes a crack about it? She always corrects him and gets mad.”

  She does. In fact, nothing makes Cat madder than someone insulting me, even as a joke. I’m so used to it I pay no mind—I am ugly—but it makes Cat furious. “It is because she is sweet.”

  This time, Fran snorts. “She’s about as sweet as a badger. Trust me when I say you’re blind. Oh, and an idiot.”

  The reality of what Fran is saying hits me. Does Cat…wish to mate with me? Not out of pity but because she feels something more? I do not know what to do. I have never had such a problem before. Females usually avoid my company. Cat is different, though. She is…well, perfect. “What do I do?”

  “Talk to her?”

  Talking is good. I think. For some reason, I feel nervous. For all her fierce attitude, Cat is fragile in both body and spirit. A male must tread carefully around her because I want nothing more than her happiness, even if it means ignoring my own.

  Fran is right. I should talk to her. If nothing else, so I can find out if she truly does like me, and what happens next. At this moment, I think Cat does not like me very much at all. Perhaps it is already too late.

  Cat does not come out of her chamber—my chamber—all afternoon. She doesn’t respond when I knock, and when I send her messages through the comm system, they go unread.

  Stubborn human.

  When she doesn’t come out for dinner—and I find the soap in mine—I decide it’s time we talk. I head to her door and knock again. She doesn’t respond, so I move to one of the air ducts and call up, “If you don’t let me in, I’m going to remove the door to your room. I have all my tools.”

  That gets her attention. A moment later, the door to my old chamber opens and she scowls at me. “I’m flashing back to my high school days, so thanks for that.”

  I have no idea what she is talking about. “I wish to speak privately with you.”

  “That’s funny, because I have nothing to say.” Her shoulders are stiff, her arms crossed, and it’s clear her feelings are still hurt. She stands in the doorway defiantly, as if daring me to push her aside.

  I feel like a cretin. “I did not wish to hurt you, Cat. May I come in so we can talk?”

  She shrugs and moves aside, heading to the bed.

  My room has always been one of the smaller chambers on the ship, but I never minded it because I had no reason to hide away, and med-bay to go to if I needed space. Here, though, it looks perfect for Cat…and yet as I look around, I cannot help but notice she has kept all my things. The bed is covered with my blankets, the wall-screen set to my favorite scene. A shelf has been programmed into one of the flex-walls and she has set up all of my tools and gadgets in neat, clean rows. I imagine that if I pull out the closet, I’ll see all of my clothing. It’s all still me even though she’s living here. I’m both humbled and a little troubled by it. So much stuff and none of it is Cat’s. Is it because she’s not planning on staying? My heart clenches at the thought.

  She moves back to the bed and curls up against the headrest, her delicate legs tucked under her. Cat looks so pretty and fragile that I want to sit next to her and hug her close and make her worries go away. But I can’t do that, so I look around for someplace else to sit instead. The room is so clean that I can see the floor for the first time in what feels like forever, and there’s a low stool in the opposite corner that I forgot I had. I grab it and pull it forward, then sit across from Cat. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  It’s clear that wasn’t what she was expecting to hear. Her head tilts and she blinks at me. “You’re apologizing? Why? I’m the one that messed up.”

  “You didn’t mess up.” I scratch at my scalp, then shift in my seat. She’s makin’ me all nervous. I can feel my tail flicking back and forth. “I just…you know. Thought you were offering because we’re getting close to the station and you were worried you weren’t gonna be able to stay.”

  “Oh. No.” Her two words are sour.

  I’m keffing up this apology, too. I need to say what’s really on my mind, even though the words are hard to spit out. “See, ah…it’s like this.” I rub my jaw. Rub it again. I’m a big male, but confessing how I feel to this small female is harder than anything I’ve ever done. “Most females think I’m ugly—”

  “You’re not ugly,” Cat retorts vehemently.

  I raise a hand. “I know you don’t think so, and I think that’s part of the reason why I have a hard time believing someone as perfect as you would flirt with someone as ugly as me.” When she opens her mouth again, I shake my head. “Let me go on, because this needs sayin’ and I don’t think I can say it twice.”

  She gets quiet, hugging one of the pillows to her chest. It’s almost as big as she is.

  I rub a hand over the bristle of my scalp again. “I’ve mated with females before, see. If you’ve got money and you’ve got a cock, you’re bound to buy a bit of cunt in-between runs. Back when I was a soldier, and then after that. Most of the females you run into on those stations will do whatever you want for a few credits. They’re alw
ays eager…until they see me. They take one look at my face and jack up the price, or decide they’re too busy, or they take the money anyhow and then just ‘endure.’ I can tell by the looks on their faces and the way they avert their eyes that they’re doing their best not to look at me. At this.” I gesture at my face. “When I was a young kit fresh in the military, I told myself I didn’t care. That my money was good and I could pay for cunt even if normal females wouldn’t look in my direction. But then I bedded one after coming home from the war and…” I shake my head. “She didn’t look at me. And when I was done, she got up and started scrubbing herself so hard you’d have thought I was covered in filth. Realized then that only one of us was having a good time. Told myself after that that I’d keep my cock to myself and never push myself on another female, even if there was money involved.”

  “That pisses me off.”

  I look up, surprised. Here I’ve been pouring my heart out to her, admitting my most shameful experiences, and that’s what she has to say? “What does?”

  “Why does everyone act like you’re a keffing leper? So your face is a little messed up. That doesn’t mean that you’re not an amazing person. People are such assholes.” She punches the pillow and then scoots to the edge of the bed. “Are any of these women at the station we’re going to? If so, you need to point them out to me so I can beat their heads in.”

  I can’t help but smile a little at that. “So fierce. I’m flattered, but it’s not necessary, Cat. I’m not telling you that so you can feel sorry for me—”

  She makes an outraged sound.

  “Right. No feeling sorry for each other. Just wanted to say if I came across as rude and hurt your feelings, it’s because I was rattled after you caught me. Felt exposed. Didn’t know what to think.” I scrub my hand over my head again. “Didn’t want you to feel pressured into doing something you didn’t want to do. I’m not that kind of male.”