Desert World Rebirth (13 page)

Shan made a strangled noise as Temar cupped his cock, pressing just hard enough to make Shan’s whole body tremble.

Temar turned to Shan’s neck, tasting the skin before running his teeth over it. “Oh God,” Shan gasped as Temar’s hand moved back up his body, stroking his sweat-damp skin. Shan wasn’t even sure when he’d started sweating, but he radiated heat, and his muscles tightened as his still half-asleep body shifted immediately into the heat of desire.

“Is that a good ‘Oh God’?” Temar asked before sucking at Shan’s earlobe.

“Yes,” Shan said. He tried to clear his brain enough to reciprocate. He ran his hand over Temar’s shoulders. The weight Temar had lost recently emphasized the wiry muscles under the skin, and Shan traced one, soaking up the warmth Temar was shedding.

Temar kissed his way down to Shan’s collarbone, his fingers running over Shan’s shoulders as he squirmed. His thigh pressed into Shan’s cock, and Shan threw his head back and moaned, determined not to come in his sleep pants like a teenager. When Shan tilted his head back down to look at Temar, Temar had a feral smile.

“With age comes control, but not that much control,” Shan warned, his breath coming in hungry gasps. Warm hands returned to Shan’s chest, stroking up his sides before Temar focused on Shan’s nipples, pulling at them gently while watching with dark eyes.

Shan lost control and thrust up into Temar’s body, his need overcoming his pride. He didn’t care if he came prematurely at this point. Temar lowered himself so that he was lying on Shan, pressing him down into the bed. “Meaning?” Temar asked in a breathy voice.

“Meaning I’m going to come in my pants,” Shan warned. If this was teasing, if Temar planned to go no further, he needed to stop now so Shan could finish himself off. Otherwise, his balls were going to fall off. However, Temar looked down at him with such hunger that Shan realized that something had changed overnight. He reached behind Temar’s neck and pulled him close for another kiss. For a few seconds, Temar yielded. Then Temar’s hands were on his shoulders, pressing, and Shan let go, allowing Temar to escape even though he desperately wanted more. He wanted more, and his body was quickly getting to a point that he couldn’t remember why he wasn’t supposed to demand more.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Temar said as he sat up, and pulled on Shan’s sleep pants.

“No, I’m really not,” Shan said. His nose was too curved and his features too sharp for beauty. However, he didn’t care about any of that. His hard cock stuck up, the head already pressing forward out of the foreskin. Temar had lost his own pants at some point, and now he grabbed both cocks, one in each hand. Shan’s heart pounded so hard that it echoed in his ears as he waited for Temar to finish this, but Temar moved painfully slow, his hand moving up and down on each cock with the sort of agonizing deliberateness that Shan could never inflict on himself. With a gasp, Shan reached out and caught Temar’s shoulder.

Letting go, Temar dropped down onto Shan; despite his recent weight loss, he still weighed more than he looked. The pressure on Shan’s cock was too much for him to resist, and he thrust up into Temar. He felt a flash of guilt at using Temar, but that passed when Temar thrust down into him just as enthusiastically.

With his body already tight from the approaching orgasm, Shan grabbed both Temar’s shoulders and angled his hips to thrust up. Both their bodies were slicked with sweat now, and his hand slipped off Temar’s shoulder, throwing Shan’s balance off. Then Temar shifted, and their cocks pressed against each other, both trapped between their overheated bodies.

Shan felt Temar shudder, his whole body jerking and his face twisting into an expression of absolute ecstasy. Twice more, Temar gave abortive thrusts, his whole body jerking as he came. Shan’s cock slid even more easily now and he dug his heels into the mattress and thrust up so hard that he lifted Temar from the bed. His balls drew up, and then he was sliding into his own orgasm, his muscles tensing as his body rushed out of control.

He collapsed, Temar’s weight still on him. They both gasped for air, their ragged breathing filling the room. Shan was overstretched rubber, unable to find its true shape again, and he didn’t care. He was happy being overstretched and well used, and if Temar woke him up like this too often, he was going to need to eat more protein.

“Not quite what I had planned, but I lost control there at the end.”

“Loss of control can be good,” Shan said, his heart still pounding fast enough to feel the pulse of it in his head. It might not have been the most elegant sexual encounter, but it was going down as the best Shan had ever experienced. “So, what was that?” After last night, Shan thought they’d agreed to wait until Temar was ready. Either Temar had recovered in record time, or the plan had changed.

“I decided I get in trouble when I think too much. I know what feels good, and I trust you, so I need to not overthink this.”

Shan opened one eye and reached over to trace small circles on Temar’s shoulder with his thumb. “You think too much?”

Temar nodded. “Less thinking and more doing feels… safer.”

“So I should expect more ambush sex?” Shan asked. The moment he did, he could see the doubt and hesitation in Temar’s expression. Shan reached up and ran a thumb along Temar’s lower lip. “You’re going to spoil me, and one of these days you aren’t going to bother jumping me, and I’m going to be heartbroken. I can see it coming now, so I guess I’d better enjoy it while I get it, huh?”

“I’ll never get tired of jumping you,” Temar said, the smile back on his face. Leaning forward, he gave Shan a quick kiss. “And I’m going to steal all the good pears for breakfast if you don’t get up fast enough to stop me.” Before Shan could object, Temar rolled over and bounded out of bed. Dancing on one foot, he pulled his pants on before grabbing a shirt and heading out the door. It was just as well, because Shan was so exhausted he couldn’t get up to save his soul. He definitely was old enough to need a little time to get his systems restarted after sex that good. Most times he didn’t really feel the ten-year difference between them, but right now Shan felt like his muscles had all been taken out and given a good shaking, so that they were limp. He could just lie here all day and be perfectly happy to do nothing, the universe and its politics forgotten. At least, he would if he wasn’t such a sweaty, cum-stained mess.

With a grunt, he sat up and pushed his sleep pants off, grabbing them and wiping his stomach. He could learn to like ambush sex.

Chapter 12

DESPITE Temar’s warning, there were pears, apples, and very flat, dry pancakes waiting for breakfast. “Cyla made them,” Temar offered, pointing at the cakes with his fork. Shan grabbed a plate and took several. The edges crumbled, but it had been a long time since he’d eaten anyone’s cooking but his own, and they smelled great. “It’s her way of apologizing,” Temar explained as he poured more mashed apple and butter sauce over his own. He passed the sauce to Shan.

“As apologies go, it’s not bad,” Shan pointed out. The sauce was a little lumpy and the cakes crumbled when he took his fork to them, but it all tasted wonderful. Shan pulled a strip of apple peel out from between his teeth and chewed on it.

“I really hope she can learn to work with Naite.”

Shan snorted. “It’s not like Naite is a saint. I’m sure he’s done his share of aggravating Cyla.” He looked at Temar. When the two were young, Cyla had been the more aggressive Gazer, and Temar had pretty much followed in her shadow, even when he didn’t agree with her. Shan figured that, from her point of view, the world had changed faster than she’d had time to adapt. “She’s not used to having people argue with her, and Naite is a champion arguer.”

Temar paused, putting his fork back down on his plate. “You’d think slavery would have taught her better.”

“My owner barely talked to me.“ Shan looked up to see Cyla standing in the doorway. “She was a little like you’ve been since we moved here.”

Shan’s stomach soured. It was too early in the morning for this argument.

“Cyla,” Temar said softly.

“I hear a lot of rumors. I hear people whisper that it was my fault that my little brother got….” Cyla’s voice broke, and she didn’t finish the sentence. She drew in a rough breath, and the raw pain was a reflection of Temar’s face. Shan put his fork down and studied the table. “I hear people call me all sorts of names,” she edited herself. “And I hear people point out that I’m not any good for you. I get in your face and everyone thinks you need to be patted on the head and told how wonderful you are.”

“I don’t want that,” Temar said, his voice firm even though he had turned a pasty color.

“Maybe,” Cyla said. “But then you throw fits in the middle of Dee’eta Sun’s place and you lock yourself in your room, and you aren’t exactly the image of okay with that kind of behavior.”

Shan looked at Temar in concern. While Temar had admitted that he and Dee’eta had disagreed, Shan certainly hadn’t heard any stories that would fit Cyla’s description of Temar throwing a fit.

Pressing his lips together, Temar slammed his fork down on the table. “I’m sorry if I’m not acting well enough to meet your standards. I’ll try and change.” The sarcasm from Temar made Shan flinch. Siblings truly were God’s revenge on humanity. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” Cyla nearly shouted, and then she stopped, her breathing coming hard and fast. She chewed on her lower lip for long seconds, and Shan could hear the faint voices of workers outside. Inside, the silence seemed to crowd out every sound. “I don’t know how to treat you because you won’t even talk to me. Ista with her morning orders followed by a day of obstinate silence was more communicative than you. I don’t know which rumors are true and which aren’t. I don’t know you.” The last part came out as a near wail, and now Shan could see the fear and hurt rising up from under all those layers of anger.

“Cyla,” Temar said softly.

“Tell me something important,” Cyla almost begged. “I’m not going to go spreading rumors, but tell me one thing that’s important.” She looked from Temar to Shan, including him in the request.

Shan looked to Temar; he was clenching his fork like it was a lifeline in a sandstorm. From the way he chewed his lip, he didn’t know what to say. Then again, when it was your own sibling, there was so much history, so many hurts and obligations, that it was hard to see past all that. Shan could see Cyla’s vivid need to know she was still family, but he didn’t know what Temar saw when he looked at her. Did he see the young woman who had led him into trouble on George Young’s farm or the girl who had been with him as they survived their father’s drunkenness? Based on his own tangled feelings for Naite, he figured Temar might not even know his own mind.

“We fixed the communications equipment and found that the war up there is over,” Shan said quickly before he could change his mind.

For a second, both siblings stared at him with open mouths, but Cyla recovered faster. “The war? The war between the planets? Really?” Cyla stepped into the room, the anger falling away in an instant.

“Shhhh,” Shan hushed her with a desperate look toward the windows. Telling Cyla was one thing; telling the whole farm would get him censured by the council, and Naite would skip the censure and jump right to killing him.

With a sigh and one last frown in Shan’s direction, Temar nodded. “Really,” Temar confirmed. “We weren’t supposed to tell anyone because the council is going to go out to all the other towns and talk to them about what we should do.” Temar looked right at Shan.

“The planets.” Cyla breathed the words. “Earth and Loralei and Minga and Alpha-C and all of them? They’re done fighting?”

“Cyla always loved the history of the planets in school. She used to play this game where we imagined what we would do if a new wave of colonists came down here after the war ended,” Temar said, his voice growing softer.

Shan smiled at both Gazers. “I don’t know if people are going to want to live in a world this barren, but who knows? The worlds up there may be ripped apart by war. Maybe some people will be moving down here.”

Cyla sat in the chair opposite Shan, her mouth still open.

“That’s why we have to get back to the relay, Cyla,” Temar said. “Shan has to be there for the messages.”

“And you?” Cyla asked sharply as she looked from one of them to the other.

“I don’t want him out there alone. He shouldn’t have to deal with this by himself.” Temar reached out and took Cyla’s hand. “But I can’t worry about you making some mistake back here. That’s why I was so hard on you yesterday.”

“You were an ass,” Cyla said softly.

“Well, I learned from the best.” Temar didn’t say it meanly, but he made it clear he didn’t regret his words. “I told the council to back Naite if he brought a complaint against you, so please don’t do anything stupid. Lilian has promised to get involved, and no one wants Lilian involved in this, especially not Naite.”

Cyla tilted her head to one side. “Wait… why would you have to tell the council to side with Naite? If you lost your temper with me, why wouldn’t you go to the council then?”