Kieran (Tales of the Shareem) (5 page)

“Off-worlder.” Kieran clamped his mouth shut over the interesting detail that she came from Old Earth. He felt his tongue want to say it, his mind making him want to blurt the truth.

“That’s good, at least. Get your fix, but don’t take your time about it. Rees wants to talk.” Braden kept looking around the room, as though he’d find Felice hiding behind the sofa.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Kieran said.

Braden took a step closer to him. Kieran didn’t like other Shareem in his personal space—he liked to be top Dom, and he didn’t enjoy sharing. “You know you can’t say anything to anyone,” Braden said in a low voice. “Not even accidentally, during sex.”

Kieran scowled at him. “I only talk about sex during sex. And the woman only screams. No distractions.”

Braden gave him a nod. “I figured you didn’t show up for a good reason. Rees was afraid you’d got caught.”

“I did get caught. But they let me go.”

Braden tensed. “Yeah? When were you going to tell Rees?”

“When I’m done here. Now go away, so I can get back to it.”

“Rees will have your balls on a plate if you don’t hurry,” Braden warned.

“Rees can get over himself. I don’t rush.”

“Fine. Whenever you can take a break from your fabulous sex routine, get your ass to Judith’s. All right? Or Rees will have
my
balls on a plate.”

“No, he won’t.” Kieran leaned the half inch down to Braden’s face. “Go away.”

Braden raised his hands and stepped back. “Right, right. I’m going. But remember this, Kieran.” Braden’s expression turned serious. “No one gets left behind.
No one.
”

“Not even messed-up Shareem,” Kieran finished, impatient. “I know. Rees told me about twenty times.
We all have a part to play.
That’s another thing he said.” He gave Braden a pointed look. “You’re still here.”

Braden made a noise of exasperation. “You’re a fuckhead, Kieran. But I get it. Sex before everything. I’ll tell Rees you’ll be around soon.”

Kieran didn’t bother saying
thank you
. Braden might say
you’re welcome
, and then linger to talk some more. Braden gave Kieran one last look, slapped open the front door, and walked out into the heat.

Kieran closed the door, locked it, and returned to the bathroom. He opened that door, then stopped his stride in the doorway.

Felice lay in the shower, huddled into herself, her body limp, her eyes closed. Her dark hair, already tangling in the desert air, straggled over her face.

An emotion—one of those things DNAmo had tried to eradicate from Shareem, Kieran in particular—moved him. Pity. Felice was exhausted, scared, and far from everything she knew.

Kieran lifted her, liking how easy and natural it felt to cradle her body in his arms. She didn’t wake as Kieran carried her out of the bathroom and into his bedroom.

Kieran laid Felice on his bed and pulled cool sheets around her. He adjusted the lights to low, wanting her to rest easy but not to wake in the dark.

As he started to leave the bedroom, Felice made a soft noise in her sleep, a cry of worry, of fear. Kieran paused, watching her. She’d escaped her captivity in body, he understood, but not yet in her head. That would take a long, long time, well he knew.

Felice shivered in spite of the cover Kieran had tucked around her. She was terrified, alone, lost—and brave. She’d faced the unknown to escape, and had found herself here with Kieran.

Kieran unfastened his loincloth and let it drop. Naked, he climbed into the bed, spooning behind Felice and drawing her against his body. He sent his Shareem pheromones over her to ease her, soothe her.

Her shivering calmed. Felice never woke but relaxed into Kieran, drawing a long, relieved breath. Kieran, tired himself, forgot all about Rees and the mission to find a transport to take Shareem off Bor Narga, forgot about everything but Felice’s scent, her warmth. For the first time in a very long time, Kieran felt loose and contented, and it wasn’t far from there to a dark, deep sleep.

*** *** ***

Felice awoke in a dimly lit bedroom, but she wasn’t alone. A heavy body lay behind her, a protective arm around her. He snored.

Kieran.

Felice could slip out of bed, steal some of his clothes, and run, flee. Slavery was technically illegal on Bor Narga, and if she could find the right legal counsel, she could be free of her indenture—which TGH Corp had made clear she’d finish working off around the time of her hundredth birthday. They weren’t slavers per se, they claimed, but they’d piled interest, room, and board on top of the original cost, to keep her working and paying them back the rest of her life.

But she’d had to sign that contract. Felice would do it again, in the same circumstances. In a heartbeat.

Kieran had said he was a slave, so Bor Narga must tolerate some form of servitude. Felice had never heard of Shareem, despite her research into the worlds of this system. Then again, she’d only been able to snatch quick sessions at any terminal, downloading everything she could to the microdot she’d managed to smuggle out when she’d fled. If facts about Shareem were restricted, chances of her coming across the information were small.

Felice could sneak away from him—she felt better now, the metabolism she’d honed working to return her to full strength . . . but she was so
comfortable
. She hadn’t slept on a bed this soft in ages. The hard slab of metal on the ship was all she’d had, plus a blanket she’d carted around with her. The blanket had holes, but throwing it away and risking illness hadn’t been an option. Catching a cold in the bowels of a long-haul freighter could mean death.

Felice had been forced to leave everything behind, including her only change of clothes and the blanket, to get away from the freighter when she’d had the chance. The thin sheet over her now, keeping out the dry chill of the bedroom’s air, was the ultimate luxury.

The bed wasn’t huge, and it was crowded by Kieran. He took up a lot of space, but he was comforting. Warm, holding her, rumbling in his sleep. It was like snuggling up to a bear.

Felice was hungry, and more water wouldn’t hurt. She had to figure out what to do about clothes, not to mention a place to go, and money. Slaves were fed—barely—but if Felice was to survive on her own, she had to have cash. She could work; she’d search for a real job, with pay. She might be able to get herself into decent fighting shape again, but she didn’t want to go back to that life. That way lay memories of betrayal and broken dreams.

Would she have to run away from Kieran? Or simply explain she wanted to go?

She remembered the extraordinary sensations that had washed through her when he’d nipped her, and again when he’d kissed down her spine to her buttocks.

If whoever had interrupted hadn’t come to the door, what would have happened? Felice shivered, and not entirely in fear.

The movement made Kieran’s breathing quiet. His eyes opened, blue in the gloom, and he smiled. Instead of saying a word, Kieran gently turned Felice to face him, and he kissed her.

Warm, firm lips parting hers . . . Kieran slid his hand to the back of her neck, drawing her up to him. He kissed her lightly but powerfully, his mouth opening hers, eyes closing as he deepened the kiss. He swept his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, caressing her.

His hand cradling her head kept her from pulling away, but he didn’t pin her, didn’t force her. Felice kissed him back, finding a taste of warm spice and a bite of coffee.

Kieran lightly kissed her upper lip, then he licked it. Next he nibbled both lips, sending pleasant fire through her.

He had such unusual eyes, Felice thought as he looked at her. Felice swore the irises had spread through the whites, but maybe that was a trick of the light.

“I don’t kiss,” Kieran rumbled, as he brushed back a lock of her tangled hair. “I’m a Dom. Not a level one.”

Felice had no idea what this meant. “You just did kiss me,” she pointed out. And she hadn’t minded one bit.

“Yeah, I did.” He gave her a slow smile. “I liked it.”

Felice felt suddenly shy. “I liked it too.”

Kieran firmed his hand behind her neck and pulled her to him again. Their mouths met with more determination this time, Kieran’s lips warm, insistent.

Felice pushed aside her fears and worries and enjoyed the kiss. Nothing existed right now but this man, whoever he was, his hot kiss in the darkness, his body against hers.

Kieran rolled Felice down into the bed and slid on top of her. Their bare bodies met, skin on skin, her breasts against his hard chest, but he did nothing more than kiss her. His hands in her hair were gentle, his mouth giving.

His tenderness made Felice cry. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she tasted salt on her lips.

Kieran raised his head and wiped away a tear with a gentle fingertip. “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m not that bad a level one, am I?”

Felice broke into a laugh, though her face was wet. “I don’t know what a level one is, but you must be prefect at it.”

“Nah, I’m only good at level three. Nothing else.” Kieran kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m
very
good at level three. I’m the best of the best. I wish I could stay here and show you how good, but . . .” He let out a breath. “But I have to go.”

“Oh.” Disappointment darted through her with a strength that surprised her. “Go where?”

“Out.” Kieran’s eyes shuttered, his warmth dissipating. “I have to talk to someone.”

“Who?” Felice raised up on her elbows in alarm.
The authorities? TGH Corp?

“Can’t tell you that.” Kieran looked uncomfortable with the evasion, and Felice’s heart beat faster in fear again. “I’ll try to find you some clothes while I’m gone.”

She swallowed. “Are you going to report me?”

Kieran’s grim look faded to surprise. “Report you? Why should I?”

“Everyone does. Everyone betrays . . . in the end.” She heard the bitterness in her words, and tasted them too.

He stared at her in perplexity. “Shit, woman, what kind of people do you know?” He gave her another brief kiss, letting his tongue flick over her lips, then he rolled off the bed to his feet.

Felice was cold without him. His body had been so warm, a comfort even on this hottest of worlds. “Bad people,” she said. “That’s who I knew.”

“Not anymore.” Kieran studied her for a long moment, then he leaned down, cupped her cheek, and gave her a swift kiss, the pressure of his lips firm. “Damn. I can’t stop kissing you. I want to keep doing it.” Kieran let go of her and straightened up, but slowly, as though reluctant. “So, you stay here, and I’ll be back to kiss you some more. Eat something, and rest.”

Felice’s stomach rumbled. “Is that an order?”

“You’re hungry. And tired. It only makes sense.” His grin flashed. “If you need a Dom tell you what to do, sweetheart, I’m willing.”

Felice gathered the sheet to her chest as she sat up. “You can’t tell me where you’re going?”

“Nope.” Kieran un-self-consciously pulled on his loincloth and then a tunic he took from a recessed closet. “But I’m coming back. As soon as I can.”

Kieran returned to the bed as he settled the clothes over his delectable body. He leaned to her, brushing Felice with the scent of fresh linen, and kissed her yet again, mouth strong.

Finally he broke away, gave Felice a last look, and left the room.

A wave of heat rushed through the apartment as Kieran exited through the outer door. Then the front door scraped closed, leaving Felice confused and alone in the dark and quiet.

*** *** ***

“Where the fuck have you been?” was Rees’s greeting.

Most days, Rees was easygoing, laid back—which was surprising, considering how fucked up he was inside. DNAmo had given up experimenting on Kieran when they couldn’t make him behave, but they’d done a serious number on Rees. Most Shareem hadn’t known Rees existed until DNAmo had been shut down. Then he’d come out of nowhere, helping them, keeping Shareem together, keeping them alive. They all owed Rees.

Today, Rees’s crazy side looked like it wanted to come out and play. It didn’t often these days, because he had a beautiful lady he’d taken as a lifemate, and she kept him calm. But now, the man was angry.

“I was with a woman,” Kieran said as he took a stool at the corner table in Judith’s bar. “I told Braden.”

“I know, but . . .” Rees let out his breath and sat down, wrapping his hands around an ale container. “Never mind. What did you find out?”

Kieran leaned his bulk against the wall behind him. Judith, the red-haired, fine-bosomed woman who owned this place, set a large glass of ale in front of Kieran and gave him a wide smile.

Judith liked Shareem. Many Shareem—usually all at the same time. Kieran had often spent the night in Judith’s upstairs room, he needing sex to cool his body, she enjoying helping him out.

Lately, though, Judith hadn’t been inviting. She’d taken up with a space pilot called Mitch, a regular human from another world, who came around a lot. Judith apparently liked Mitch more than Shareem, because her wild sessions with Shareem had come to an end.