Rebel (22 page)

Read Rebel Online

Authors: Cheryl Brooks

BOOK: Rebel
8.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I
might
never
know.

Her gaze swept the dim interior with its rough-hewn furniture and padded leather cushions. Fully half the floor was a bed made of colorful blankets. “This is a lot different from that
other
place.”

Rashe cleared his throat. “The southern section caters to a totally different clientele.”

“Meaning women. Yeah. I suppose men don’t care as much about such things.”

“Not
all
men like what goes on in there, Kim. You know that, don’t you?”

She nodded. “It’s sad to think that
anyone
likes it.”

He didn’t disagree. “There are other brothels like that one, and since we didn’t find Dalmet—”

“We’ll have to do this again? Yeah. I figured that. Did Jatki ever turn up?”

His solemn expression never changed. “Not yet.”

She blew out a breath and gave him a weak smile. “Well…thanks for your help.” She glanced at Ganyn who still held Onca cradled in her arms as though reluctant to put him down. “You too, Ganyn. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“No problem, sweetheart,” Ganyn said. She nodded at Onca. “Want me to take him upstairs?”

Shaking his head, Rashe held out his arms. “I’d better do it. That doorway wasn’t built with Darconians in mind.”

Kim didn’t see anything remotely resembling stairs. “What doorway? Where are you taking him?”

“Oh, I don’t live in here,” Rashe said. “I’ve got a house out back. You’ll be safer there.”

“But I didn’t see a house…”

“You wouldn’t.” Rashe grinned. “That’s why it’s so safe.”

Having just gotten out of an invisible speeder, Kim shouldn’t have been surprised. “It’s cloaked?”

He nodded. “Lift that flap over there and you’ll see what I mean.”

Kim found a break in the leather and pushed it aside to reveal a standard-sized door that certainly wouldn’t have admitted a Darconian.

“I’ll let you in the other way, Ganyn,” he said. “Just don’t let anyone see you. We need to get that speeder inside too.”

Kim had no idea how he planned to do that and didn’t bother to ask. “This is getting weirder all the time.”

“Nothing weird about it. The same Nerik who sold Onca that speeder convinced me that my business would improve if I appeared to actually live in a teepee, and he sold me the tiles to cloak my house.” Rashe paused as the door swung open. “Not sure if he was right about that, but I’ll say this much for him, the dude was a damn good salesman.”

Chapter 22

Kim followed Rashe through the door into a home even more luxurious than Onca’s. Clearly his business had done well, whether the ruse of living in a teepee had anything to do with it or not. Thick carpeting covered the floors, and the furnishings all looked expensive and relatively new—not to mention scrupulously clean. The reason for which was immediately apparent as a dome-shaped housekeeping droid hovered in from the next room.

“See what I mean? Nobody expects a wild Comanche to live in a place like this. Doesn’t fit the character at all.”

“I suppose not.” Kim was having some difficulty reconciling the two widely divergent lifestyles herself. The colors and designs were similar, but that was about it.

Ganyn peeped through the doorway, which was too narrow to admit much more than her head. “What about Onca’s speeder?”

“Oh, yeah. Hang on while I put him down and I’ll let you in the back way.” Rashe laid Onca on a sofa that appeared to be softer than most beds Kim had seen. “See if you can sneak it into the garage.”

The speeder wouldn’t pose a problem since it could be cloaked. On the other hand, Kim couldn’t help giggling at the thought of a Darconian
sneaking
anywhere.

“Sure thing.” Ganyn winked at Kim. “After all, we wouldn’t want anyone to steal our baby’s speeder, would we?”

“Our
baby
?” Kim echoed.

“You know what I mean,” Ganyn said with a lift of her brow. “You don’t hold all the rest of us against him, do you?”

Once again, Kim was mystified that anyone else could possibly know the depth of her feelings for Onca. “Um…no. I don’t. Why should I?”

“Oh, puh-
lease
,” Rashe begged. “Don’t start with that crap. And don’t tell me you aren’t gonna sleep with him, either.”

“He seemed a little gruff this afternoon,” Kim said. “I’m not sure he’s very happy with me right now.”

“Right now?” Rashe fingered the handle of his tomahawk as though itching to throw it at her. “You saved his sorry Zetithian ass back there. Of course he’ll be happy with you.”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean he’ll want me to sleep with him.” She frowned. “Does it?”

Rashe blew out an exasperated breath. “This could take
days
. Ganyn, let’s get that damned speeder put away before anyone sees it.”

Kim stared after him as he stalked off toward the rear of the house. Onca was right where he left him, barely covered by the sheet. It struck her then that this was the first time she had ever seen his penis in its flaccid state. Anytime he was awake, he had been affected by her scent.

That had to count for something.

Rashe’s insistence that saving his life might influence Onca’s attitude wasn’t a very good argument. If it hadn’t been for Kim, he wouldn’t have needed rescuing in the first place. He would be safe and sound in his own bed with no one chasing him except for the hordes of women who were hot after his adorable ass—which probably included any female who had ever laid eyes on him and quite a few who hadn’t.

How would he have dealt with that? Tell Captain to lock the doors and have food delivered by the Norludians? He would have been better off leaving Rhylos and going to Terra Minor. At least there he wouldn’t have the distinction of being the only Zetithian man on the planet.

Unless adulation appealed to him—although he didn’t strike her as the type to enjoy being hounded wherever he went. Nor would he care for staying holed up in his house all the time. No, the way he’d been strolling home the morning he rescued her indicated a desire for a simpler, more normal life.

Fat
lot
of
good
I’ve
done
him.

At least she could keep him warm. She found another of those colorful blankets and spread it over him. If Rashe intended for her to sleep with Onca, there was more than enough room on that couch, even though she would have preferred a bed—particularly one on the second floor. She wasn’t sure where Ganyn would stay—that is, if she stayed at all. Kim doubted she would be recognized as one of Onca’s gang, unless anyone who worked at Oswalak’s was suspected on general principles. Darconians weren’t quite as rare on Rhylos as Zetithians. Then again, few species were.

As if he’d read her thoughts, Rashe returned, saying, “Don’t worry. I’ll put him upstairs. He owes me for this one.”

Scooping Onca up from the couch, Rashe headed for what Kim assumed, correctly as it turned out, was a lift. Kim followed him to an upstairs bedroom, pulling back the covers on the bed.

“You’ll both be comfortable here,” he said as he put Onca down for the second time. “The bathrooms don’t have waterfalls, but they’re adequate.”

“I’m sure they are.” Covering Onca with the blankets, she tucked him in as carefully as she had at the Den, then sat down on the side of the bed.

Rashe gave her a nudge. “Hungry?”

Had she ever said no to that question before in her life? Probably not. Nonetheless, she hated to leave Onca, even though she knew him to be safe. “If it’s okay with you, I think I’ll stay with him for a while.”

“No worries.” He patted her hand. “Take your time and come downstairs whenever you’re ready.”

She thanked him, and he left her alone with Onca. Left her free to stroke his cheek and comb the tangles from his hair with her fingers. She should bathe him too. The stench of that Herp still lingered, fouling the normally sweet air that surrounded him.

Funny how these men who sold themselves for women’s pleasure could be such decent, honorable men. Rashe was as good a man as Onca in that respect. She wouldn’t have thought it of them. Selling sex had never been a truly respectable occupation on this world or any other—at least, not as far as she knew. According to Captain, there had never been
any
brothels on Zetith.

Given the degree of bonding between a mated pair of Zetithians, she hadn’t been surprised to hear that. Although poorly versed in the ways of her own kind, she suspected that she was already mated to Onca. Finding him there in the Den had solidified her belief that he was the only man for her. Jack’s boys might be attractive, but they weren’t Onca. They wouldn’t talk like him, smell like him, or kiss like him, and she didn’t even want to know whether they could make love as well as he did. Considering his previous occupation, she doubted they could come anywhere near his level of expertise—although that wasn’t the only consideration or even the most important.

Apparently Rashe thought she needed to eat, for the little droid hovered in with a tray and set it on the bed in front of her. Reluctant to look away from Onca even for a moment, Kim ate sparingly, barely tasting the food. She had the strangest feeling that if she stopped watching him, he might disappear.

Or
die.

Finally convincing herself that her gaze couldn’t prevent either of those things, she found what she needed in the bathroom and washed him, doing her best to expunge every trace of the evening’s ordeal. The angry cuts on his side seemed to be healing right before her eyes—a phenomenon she had never witnessed before. She had always been the one who recovered in her sleep.

Despite her exhaustion, Kim remained awake, wanting only to cleanse the blood from his skin and hair and watch over him while he slept. Her pistol was still in the holster at her hip, and she had no desire to remove it.

Just as Ganyn had done, she would guard him with her life.

***

Considering where he’d been when he conked out, Onca expected to wake up in a strange place, but never in as nice a bed as this with Kim’s scent filling his head.

He was already drunk on her scent when he rolled over and found her, right there within arm’s reach. As her lips parted to receive his kiss, he didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate.

She was his mate. He could deny it all he liked, but her enticing aroma said otherwise. He should let her go—should let Larry or one of the other boys have her. He knew that—was convinced it was the best choice—but right now, she belonged to him.

Kim tasted spicy and exotic—like something Rashe might’ve fed her.

That’s where we are. Rashe’s house.

A safe place. Were the girls all free and accounted for? He didn’t know, and may the gods have mercy on his soul, at that moment, he didn’t care.

“Kim.” Her name was barely a whisper as he pulled her into his arms. There were worse things than waking up beside the tiny Zetithian girl who had stolen his heart. Her small body nestled against his, her lips warm where they touched him.

By the gods above and beyond, she was sweet. Intoxicating. Luscious. He couldn’t even speak. He knew he’d been hurt. Badly. But he was better now, and she was soft and warm and whole and he wanted her.

No. That wasn’t it. He
needed
her. Like he had never needed anything before. They had come through an incredible adventure. Ordeal. Misadventure? Perhaps all three. He didn’t know and didn’t care. He could hand her over to Larry another day. On this night—or was it morning already?—she was his.

Somewhere, somehow, her clothing was gone. She lay naked in his arms, her lips seeking his. She wanted him too. Perhaps she also needed to affirm that they were both still alive and whole—their hearts still beating, their lungs still breathing, their loins still lusting.

“I want you.”

Had he said the words or only felt them in his heart?

Words didn’t matter. He only wanted to dive into her and taste the sweet warmth of her essence. Filling him with need, with joy, with love…

What
the
hell
happened
to
me?
He could admit it to himself if no one else. After all the women he had been with—all the protestations of love he had heard them utter—none of that mattered now. Kim was in his arms, and he was dying for the need of her.

She was like wine, filling all of his senses with delight. Her hair soft beneath his fingers. Her lips warm against his own. By all the gods, no one could fault him for this. No one could blame him. Those other women meant nothing to him now. This slip of a girl tied him up in knots, filling him with lust and want.

In another moment, his cock found her entrance. Instinctively, his shaft sought her like the beacon of light and hope that she was. No one could stop this. Ever.

She slid onto him like a warm glove.

Perfect.
Soft. Wet. Utterly delightful. He was inside her, filling her body, hearing her sighs, her moans, her gasps of pleasure. Had he ever experienced anything to compare? He thought not. Cared not.

“Oh, Kim…” No other name touched his mind or his lips.

Great
mother
of
the
gods.
This was the most astonishing moment of his life. His mind opened, letting the visions fill it until he could no longer see the present at all.

Time raced ahead to reveal shady trees, open fields, blooming flowers, and laughing children. And in there somewhere was Kim. Holding him, caressing his face, climbing inside his soul like the elfin sprite she was.

He smelled sweat and desire, hers and his combined. The sweet nectar of her essence, the thick syrup from his cock. Her body tightened around him, and her purr heightened his yearning. Stopping now would have meant his death. But she wasn’t asking him to stop. Urging him on, she pleaded with him to give her joy, now and forever.

She felt so right. Her arms, her legs, her tight sheath gripping his cock as though she never intended to let him go. Her desire for him made her joy his only goal and her wishes the only ones he needed to fulfill.

Her fingers threaded though his hair, pulling him down for kiss after kiss. He had lost control before, but not like this. Not this engulfing, swamping feeling. He had taught her the ways of love. Now she was teaching him. Teaching him the things that made her sigh and moan and beg for more.

Tears poured from his eyes at the thought that someone else should have her—should be her mate and grow old with her. Poor Kim. He didn’t want her to mate with a man whom she might outlive. Better for her to have a younger man—one who could be there for her for the rest of her life and mourn her loss when she was gone. Onca didn’t want her to have to lose a mate. What a terrible ordeal that must be. Jerden had been all but destroyed when Audrey was killed. He had found another love, but the loss, the awful, irreplaceable loss…

He was selfish, hoarding Kim for himself. But he’d been through pain and hell for her. Wanted only to do her bidding, to make her happy, to satisfy her cravings and needs. That ought to be worth something.

She should have a man to be proud of—one who could love her as she deserved to be loved. His dear, sweet Kim…

Another man might be a better mate, a better husband, a better companion for the remainder of her life, but no one could love her more.

Her gaze locked onto his, her warm brown eyes drawing him in like a beckoning hand. “Look at you,” she whispered. “I didn’t think you would—”

“I shouldn’t. I should stop right now. But I can’t. I simply can’t do it.”

Her body tightened around his cock as her orgasm took flight. He could see it in her eyes. He was sobering now, though he hated the thought. Rocking into her, he watched her soar. Other men could do this to her. Other Zetithian men, that is.

No.
No one could do what he could do. Not Larry, Moe, or Curly. He was damn good at what he did. Those boys were amateurs—virgins, perhaps—and they were only eighteen. Onca had been a virgin until he was twenty-six. But then, their situations differed. They were free—as free as any sons of Jack Tshevnoe could ever be.

He laughed aloud, but his thoughts remained unspoken.
Kim. You are such a delight. They can’t know what they’re missing. I won’t let them.

She wasn’t fertile. He knew that—somehow. He wasn’t sure how he knew it. There were…symptoms. She hadn’t had them. He had only been with her for two days. Or was it three? He wasn’t sure. With his cock inside her warmth, his brain might not be working at full capacity.

Other books

One Was Stubbron by L. Ron Hubbard
Prose by Elizabeth Bishop
People of the Mist by W. Michael Gear
Remains to be Seen by J.M. Gregson
Florence by David Leavitt
Unknown Man No 89 (1977) by Leonard, Elmore - Jack Ryan 02