In The Corsair's Bed Page 7

  “You think I haven’t figured that out yet? I can see ‘that kind of male’ coming from a mile away at this point. I’ve had a lot of experience with them. That’s why I feel safe around you.” Her expression gets shy. “That’s why I like you.”

  “You do?” I feel a warm rush of pleasure at her soft words. Pleasure…and astonishment. Out of all the males on this craft, she likes me? Alyvos and Sentorr are both far more attractive.

  “Don’t sound so shocked. And I think I do.” She bites her lip. “I’m actually not sure. That sounds terrible, doesn’t it?”

  “No. I understand.” Because I know her. I can guess at what happened to her on the station and I know she’s struggled to trust. I’ve seen her fighting with her fear and in my eyes, she’s incredibly brave. Of course she’s scared and unsure. I would never hold that against her. I get it. I’d be surprised if she wasn’t. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

  “No?” she asks, and her voice is half-amusement. “I don’t know, sometimes I think my head is so messed up from what I’ve been through that I’ll never be normal, and then sometimes all I think is I need a few quiet hours to rub one out, like you did.”

  I’m shocked at her words…and my cock gets hard immediately. I force myself to ignore it and shift in my seat. “Can I ask…what happened to you back on the station? I don’t mean details. I just want to know how you got there…but only if you want to tell me.”

  Cat shrugs and hugs her knees to her chest. “I can talk about it, I think. But I’d prefer if it just stayed between us.”

  “Of course.” I’m humbled she’d trust me enough to confide in. “I would never tell.”

  She nods, her expression thoughtful. “It almost feels like it all happened to another person, a long time ago. That I’ve always been here on the Fool with you guys, and all that other stuff just happened in a movie to someone else. Except sometimes I dream it and I remember it was me.” She shudders.

  I hate her pain. “You don’t have to talk about it—”

  “No, I do,” she says, interrupting me. “If you and I are ever going to be anything, if we ever want to be anything, you have to know.” But she won’t look at me. Her gaze grows distant.

  Then, she begins to talk, and part of me wishes I’d never asked. The things she describes are so awful, so degrading that it makes me ill. Her story starts out the same as Fran’s—she was taken from her bed one night—and then soon devolves into a nightmare. Unlike Fran, she wasn’t rescued days in. She was sold to a whoremaster on Haal Ui and forced to survive. She tells me everything, even when I no longer want to hear.

  I picture my delicate, fiery Cat in the horrors she describes in that flat voice and it makes me angry. Furious. I have to clench my fists so I don’t shake with rage. Instead, I force myself to keep listening because once she’s started talking about it, she can’t seem to stop. She tells me about every awful customer she can remember, every person that hit her or slapped her—or worse. She tells me everything.

  Everything.

  Part of me wonders if she’s telling me every sordid detail because she wants to scare me off. The opposite is happening. I feel more protective of her with every moment that passes, and I vow to myself that even if I have to die—or take everyone in this universe down with me—she’s never going to know that life again. She’s going to live the rest of her days safe and happy.

  “And then,” she says with a tiny shrug. “I met you.”

  “I remember,” I say, and get to my feet. “Thank you for telling me.”

  Cat looks a little surprised. “You’re leaving? Where are you going?”

  I crack my knuckles like Alyvos does. “I have to go punch things.”

  11

  CATRIN

  I’m told by the others that Tarekh demolishes every crate in the cargo bay. Not just the wood ones from the primitive planets, but the sturdy plas ones from the more “civilized” trading federations. He punches and destroys so many things that Alyvos gets concerned and tries to stop him, and also gets punched in the face. Hours later, when Tarekh is done, he retreats to med-bay and wraps his knuckles up with healing film and numbing gel.

  The others are mystified at his actions. Tarekh’s the nice one, the gentle one. They don’t understand.

  Me, I feel warm inside.

  I get it. He smashed everything he could because he couldn’t hurt those that hurt me. I should be upset, but I’m fucked up in the head because it makes me happy. He’s the only one I’ve told what I’ve been through. He’s the only one I ever plan on telling. And his reaction makes me feel less alone, weirdly enough. Like someone else gets it and understands me.

  Still, I can’t help but worry when he doesn’t come back to my chamber that he’s thought long and hard and decided against wanting me. That I’m too dirty and used for him. That even ugly mesakkah have standards. Doubt and worry gnaw at me and I can’t go to sleep even when the hour grows late and the rest of the crew heads off to their beds except Sentorr, who stays on the bridge because the man has no life.

  I lie in my bed and think about Tarekh.

  Actually, I guess I’m lying in Tarekh’s bed. He’s still sleeping in med-bay, where it’s uncomfortable and sterile. He says he doesn’t mind. I’ve offered to switch with him, but he refuses. Says I need my privacy. Maybe I do, but tonight, I kind of wish he was here with me, even if it terrifies me to think that. The crew of the Fool is so small that any ripple in the social dynamic feels huge. Heck, it’s been two months and Kivian still complains that Aly and Sentorr are grumpy that I’m here. What if Tarekh and I try to take things to the next level and I can’t? Will he hate me?

  I don’t know. I hate that I don’t know. I want there to be answers instead of just more questions.

  I stare at the door to my room. Should I get up and head over to med-bay? Talk to Tarekh? See how his hands are? Or am I too chicken?

  I…might be too chicken. I roll over in bed and move to the wall panel, where the controls are easily in reach for the central comm. I don’t recognize the alphabet on the keys—mesakkah written language is lower on my list of things to learn—but Tarekh helpfully colored the keys that I need to dial him in med-bay. We’ve communicated back and forth before, but never after bedtime. It feels a little more intimate this way, but not as intimate as a face-to-face meeting would be.

  I tap the buttons and wait for him to answer.

  Tarekh picks up immediately, surprising me. He’s still awake. “You okay, Cat?” There’s concern in his gruff voice. “You don’t have the vid screen on.”

  “I know.” Mostly because I don’t want to stare at his face right now. I’m feeling too fragile. “And I’m okay.” I hesitate, because I wanted to check in on him and instead he’s worrying over me. “Are we good?”

  There’s a pause. “Are you asking if I feel different than I did earlier?”

  I swallow hard. “Yeah.”

  “Cat, I think you’re my favorite person I’ve ever met. Nothing that you told me changed that.”

  I swallow the knot in my throat. “Thanks.”

  “Are you good?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t know how I feel about any of this. I’m just worried…”

  “That something will change and we won’t be friends any longer?”

  I’m torn between laughing and crying. Laughing because he knows me so well and crying because he’s exactly right and I’m terrified. I’m frightened I’ll send mixed signals or the flirting will go too far and then I’ll want to stop and he won’t and then everything will get ugly. I’ve always told myself that when others touched me, it was just sex. A bodily function, no more than farting or burping. Thinking about it in crude ways helped me distance myself from what was happening.

  But I know that if I touched Tarekh and he touched me, it’d be different. Those mental boundaries would be gone. Maybe that’s what scares me most of all.

  “You’ll never lose me as a frien
d, Cat. I promise.” His voice is warm, slightly rough, but so good I want to use it as a blanket and wrap myself in it. “I’m here if you want me. I’m here if you don’t. I’m here if you change your mind about all of this and just want a buddy. And I’m here if you want more. There’s no pressure.”

  “Okay,” I breathe. Some of the tightness in my chest eases. “Thank you.”

  I want to say “I love you,” but I don’t know if that’s just my messed-up head or what. So I end the comm before I can do something I regret.

  If Tarekh says things are safe, I believe him. If he says he’s going to be my friend no matter what, maybe…maybe I test that. See how it feels to be more than friends. I kind of like that idea. I hug my pillow close and go to sleep, imagining that my bed isn’t empty and a big blue alien’s curled up next to me, his body protectively sheltering mine.

  I sleep better than I have in years.

  12

  CATRIN

  For the next few weeks, I push things out of my comfort zone. The teasing in our relationship is kicked up a notch and it turns into something sexy, flirty. I’m the one that takes the lead in everything, because I know Tarekh is giving me my space to figure things out.

  He’s also got the patience of a saint, because I don’t make it easy for him. I’m determined to toe the invisible line between us, to see how far I can take things and still feel safe. I keep waiting for him to snap, for him to grab when he should just admire. For him to destroy the fun playfulness between us.

  But he never does.

  I know it’s wrong to tease him like I do. I know I’m playing with fire, waiting for it to burn me so I can go back to how things were. Maybe that’s why I start coming out of the ducts legs first, so he has to grab my ass to help me down. Maybe that’s why I call the med-bay every night and whisper sexy things to him, just because I like to hear his muffled groans.

  Maybe that’s why I get brave enough to send him an audio file of me masturbating.

  Everything I do pushes just that much further. And every time Tarekh responds with patience and that same wonderful, charming amusement that rocks me to my core, I fall a little more in love with the guy.

  I’m not ready to make a move yet. I know I’m going to have to be the one to make that first move. Not because he’s afraid to—but because he doesn’t want to push me. Because he knows what I’ve been through and knows I might take a lot longer than most girls to respond to a kiss or a caress…or that I might never respond again.

  We’ll see. At some point, either he’ll break or I will, and I don’t think it’ll be him. He’s not impatient like me. He’s the most patient man I’ve ever met.

  Which means I just have to try harder. Which is kind of fun when you know that you’re safe.

  13

  TAREKH

  That human female is going to kill me.

  I grab my cock in my hand while in the water closet and give it a fierce tug. It doesn’t take much to make me come these days. All I have to do is imagine Cat smirking up at me as she teases the zip down the front of her tunic a little lower so her teats practically spill out when she leans over in the mess hall. Or I listen to that audio file she sent me, the one I’ve already listened to so many times that it’s permanently ingrained in my mind. Or I think of the sexy little gasp she made when I accidentally brushed up against her in the hall…and how she deliberately stopped so she could rub up against me again.

  She’s a cruel little thing and I love it.

  Cat’s games are making me wild with need. I love the boldness that’s come out of her over the last few weeks as we head toward Rii Ketta, another distant station several galaxies away. It’s not as seedy as Haal Ui, but it’s still not what I’d call classy by any means. I’m a little worried about what’s going to happen when we get to the station. Is Cat going to leave? Is someone going to give her shit when we’re there? I feel incredibly protective of her.

  Of course, I also want to kef her brains out. But her security comes first.

  That’s why I don’t touch no matter how much she torments me. That’s why I rush back to med-bay to tug my own cock several times a day. It’s either that or do something we’d both regret, and I’m not about to scare her. Bad enough that I have this big ugly face and hulking body. I’m not going to do a single thing that will make her bad memories resurface. I like seeing happy, flirty Cat far too much. My whole world changes the moment she walks into a room, and to think that a male like me is lucky enough to have her attention is humbling.

  I won’t do anything to put that at risk.

  Just thinking about her is enough to make me spill with a few jerks of my wrist, and then I stand in the spray of water, washing away my seed and taking deep breaths.

  Sentorr’s calm voice comes over the comm. “Rii Ketta in sight. Docking shortly.”

  I bite back my growl of frustration. It’s too soon. What if Cat decides to stay? I’ll smile and be happy for her, but everything inside me will die. I wouldn’t stop her, but I wouldn’t be the same if she left.

  But if it’s what she needs, I’ll make sure she gets it.

  By the time I emerge from med-bay a short time later, I’m fully dressed in a ship uniform of The Distance, which I think was a water hauler, given the logo over my pocket. Fits pretty good, and if there’s any misbehaving, it doesn’t follow me back to the Fool. Kivian comes down the hall, adjusting his fussy sleeves. He’s dressed in a new outfit bedecked with baubles at the hem and more folds in his sleeves than an entire fleet of mesakkah fashion models would wear. Fran just rolls her eyes with amusement when I look over at her. In contrast to her mate’s ornate clothing, she’s wearing a simple pale green jumpsuit, zipped up to the neck.

  It makes me think of Cat and how she unzipped hers, showing skin. I start to sweat a little more.

  The others are on the bridge, but all I see is Cat. She’s dressed in a pale pink, filmy sort of tunic that glimmers when she turns. It makes me think that it’s something Fran’s held into for a while, waiting for the right moment to wear it. It suits Cat and her pale coloring, and the sight of her makes my mouth dry with want. Cat has her face close to the port screens as if they’re real windows. She’s staring out at the slowly spinning diamond that’s Rii Ketta. I’m drawn toward her and notice that the hand she has clamped down on the rail is trembling a little.

  I bet she’s scared. Excited, yes, but scared. We’ve been in a little bubble for months, making this long-haul delivery. Haven’t had to think about the outside world or anyone other than the people on this ship. I brush my fingers over hers and she looks up at me, a faint smile on her face. “I’ve never seen a space station. I guess I’ve been in a few, but I never got a chance to look…” She pauses and then glances over at me again. “Are they all so pretty?”

  “Pretty on the outside, same old shit on the inside,” I tell her cheerfully. “Nothing to worry over.”

  She smiles at me, but she doesn’t look convinced.

  “Well,” Kiv says and clasps his hands together. “We about ready to go? Our buyer won’t be here until tomorrow, so tonight’s all about enjoying ourselves. That means refreshment dispensers, music, and an open tab at the cantina.” He rubs his hands together with glee. “Maybe even a few rounds of sticks.”

  “Just don’t bet anything you’ll regret this time, love,” Fran tells him, bumping her hip against his gently. His tail immediately curls around her waist.

  “What about the humans?” I ask, because it doesn’t seem fair for the rest of us to escape the confines of the Fool for a while and them to be stuck on board. If that’s the case, I’m staying at Cat’s side. I wouldn’t leave her.

  Fran pulls a bright metal collar out of her pocket and snaps it around her neck, handing Kivian the decorative chain. “Arf arf,” she jokes, pretending to be some human animal. “Got one for Cat, too, if she wants to play along. It’s the easiest way to have no questions asked and stops you from being messed with.” Fran pulls out the se
cond collar and holds it out to Cat. “If you’d rather stay on the ship, that’s fine, too. You and Sentorr can hang out.”

  Sentorr just mutters something about peace and quiet.

  Cat takes the collar, fingering it lightly. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell Fran that the collar is a bad idea, that it’s going to give Cat bad memories. That she doesn’t need something so humiliating, even as a disguise. That she’s all dressed up and so pretty we shouldn’t ruin tonight for her. But then Cat snaps the collar around her neck and hands me the chain. “Wanna be my owner?”

  My mouth goes dry. “You…sure?”

  Her eyes flare with that flirty heat. “Might be fun.”

  “Cat, you could have a safe word,” Fran suggests. “If things get too much for you, just speak it out loud and someone can take you back to the ship.”

  “A safe word,” she muses, fingering the collar on her neck. “That’s a good idea. Something human?”

  Fran says, “That works.”

  Cat gives me another playful look and I feel like I’m about to break into another cold sweat. “Leather daddy?”

  Fran snorts.

  “What is that?” I ask.

  “A man that ties his woman up and gags her for fun.” She shrugs and holds the end of the chain out to me. When I take it, our fingers brush and I can feel her trembling again.

  “Let’s pick a different word,” I suggest. Something less fraught with sexual meaning. Something that won’t scare her by thinking about it. Because Cat is fragile and even now, I want to protect her with everything I am.

  Cat gazes up at me with those unusual human eyes and then just smiles. “Sandwich, then.”

  14