Stud (3 page)

But Lucy was different. She’d said she didn’t have a mate, but whether she was innocent or experienced, the scent of her desire was so strong it was screaming at him. Tarq took a deep breath and tried again. “Would you like to have one more?”

“What? You mean another secret?” She seemed puzzled by this. Perhaps he was being too subtle. Then another blush crept up her neck and blossomed in her cheeks. “The salad dressing recipe isn’t the only one I’ve got.”

Tarq didn’t know what to say next. This was getting too hard. Then he remembered his cards. He could barely read them himself, but he knew what they said. Lucy was obviously intelligent. She could read. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out one of his business cards and tucked it into the front of her apron. “I don’t give those to just anyone,” he said. He’d never had to ask this before, either—at least not in person. “Please. Call me.”

“And you will give me joy unlike any I have ever known?” Her slow smile warmed his heart.

“So, you
do
know who I am.”

“You’re kinda hard to miss,” she said dryly. “We don’t get many guys like you in here.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.” Tarq waited for her to say something else, but she never did. “Would you at least think about it? I don’t normally ask, but—”

Without missing a beat, but in a completely different tone of voice, she pointed to a small jar and said, “You’ve got
aioli
sauce there for the fish. Would you like anything else?”

Tarq ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, not bothering to look up. “No, nothing else. Thank you.”

He glanced up as she walked away, catching her father scowling at her from behind the counter. She must’ve seen him too, which would explain her sudden change of mood. Tarq felt his own anger flare, along with a sudden urge to throw the plate across the room. But he knew that wouldn’t do Lucy any good, so he just ate it.

It wasn’t bad. Not as tasty as what he’d had on Rhylos, but then, few things were. He sometimes wondered if his decision to leave that world had been a good one. He’d been to a lot of different planets—some, like this one, had breathtaking scenery—but people, or beings or whatever they called themselves, were pretty much the same throughout the galaxy. There were good and bad wherever you went, and love was as elusive as ever.

When Lucy stopped by his table again to refill his glass, Tarq took advantage of the opportunity to try again.

“Jublansk must be Twilanan.”

She nodded. “Your point?”

“Powdered
lycaque
root,” he said. “The secret salad dressing ingredient. It’s the sort of thing a Twilanan would add—that and the fact that Twilanans are among the best bakers in the galaxy.”

“Yes, but how did you—?”

Tarq smiled ruefully. “My one other talent: excellent taste buds.”

“Don’t tell my father.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Tarq took a deep breath. It was now or never.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Lucy beat him to the punch. “Busy tonight?”

Relief, hope, and just plain lust swept over him like a wave. “Not unless you want me to be.”

“I do. And not just for the fun and games. I want to have your babies. Okay?”

His reply was barely a sigh. “Oh, yeah.”

“We close at nine. Follow me home, but don’t let anyone see you. I live with my parents and sister, so I’ll have to let you in through my window. This is the kind of thing I should have done a long time ago. Not sure why I didn’t.” She laid the bill on the table. “You can pay me whenever you’re ready.”

Tarq grinned. “What? No dessert?”

“I was
trying
to get you out of here before my father says anything else.”

“Don’t worry, I can take it,” he said. “Now, about that dessert. What would you recommend?”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Chocolate pie. That’s
my
one other talent.”

“Your ‘other’ talent? What was the first one?”

“Patience,” she replied. “Limitless patience.”

Lucy wasn’t kidding. She’d wanted children her entire life, and though Tarq’s advertisement might have renewed her interest, the seed had been sown long ago, and it now seemed that her patience was about to pay off. So what if he was only passing through? He was still a cut above any of the men in Reltan, and perhaps the entire planet of Talus Five. Granted, most were at least human, but that didn’t matter to Lucy. Humans and Zetithians were genetically compatible, so there was nothing stopping her.

Except her father. Why he had gotten it in his head to keep her from ever marrying—or even dating—was a mystery. Lucy liked to think it was simply a control issue, but though there might have been more to it than that, the actual reason eluded her. And heaven forbid she should ever ask because it simply wouldn’t be worth all the drama. She’d never hear the end of it.

If there had ever been a man she fell for like a ton of bricks, it might have been different, but she never had and so had allowed things to continue on as they were. Not that her life had ever been perfectly smooth, but she was beginning to realize that some things were worth a little turbulence. If her father didn’t like the idea of her having Zetithian triplets, he would just have to get over it. Murder was, after all, illegal, and abortions simply weren’t done on Talus. He might try to pressure her into putting the children up for adoption, but Lucy could be very determined when it suited her, and this was something she felt very strongly about. Even if he kicked her out of the house, she suspected that this would be more of a blessing than a curse because then she might actually be able to have a home of her own.

The sheer bliss of that possibility swept over Lucy the same way Tarq’s eyes had.
Her
own
home
. Not her father’s or her mother’s, but her very own. The more she pondered the idea, the more appealing it became. She had a reason to leave now—children of her own whose lives she didn’t want contaminated by her parents’ attitudes. Nodding firmly, her mind was made up. She would conceive Tarq’s babies and then she would get out of Reltan even if she had to walk all the way to Yalka.

With that happy thought in mind, she cut Tarq an extra-large piece of pie. The hell with what her father would say; his opinions couldn’t affect her anymore. She was already on her way.

“You trying to fatten him up?” Jublansk asked, glancing up from her task. She was making bread, kneading it with her big hands.

“Maybe,” Lucy replied.

“I don’t think he needs any improvements, myself,” Jublansk said with a sniff. “He looks damn near perfect.”

“Don’t be silly, nobody’s perfect. I’m sure we could find
something
wrong with him if we looked hard enough.” Lucy nearly choked as she realized that before the next day dawned, she would know the answer to that. She would have seen and touched every bit of him by then—at least that was her intention.

Jublansk must’ve been reading her mind. Grabbing a dish towel, she wiped the sticky dough from between her fingers. “Let’s go strip him down and find out.”

“No way!” Lucy exclaimed.

Jublansk shrugged and went back to kneading the dough. “Bet he’s hung like a donkey,” she went on. “And with thighs like that, he could probably ram it through a wall. Got a fine ass on him too.” As though she’d like to do the same thing to Tarq’s bottom, she gave the dough a firm slap.

“When did you—?”

“I watched him walk in here,” Jublansk said with a slow, superior smile. “You were busy.”

“Ha! You’ve been holding out on me.” She paused as another thought occurred to her. “You’re not thinking of calling him yourself, are you?”

“Me? Twelk would kill me for even thinking about it.” She paused, tapping her tusk with a contemplative finger. “Might be worth it, though—getting killed, I mean. At least I’d die happy.”

“What makes you so sure about that?”

“Oh, I’ve heard about those cat boys. They’ve got a ruffle around the head of their dick that secretes a fluid that will give you an orgasm if you so much as taste it. Big cocks, too, and they can point them in any direction—some of them can move it so fast it vibrates. Hell, they even
taste
good. It’s no wonder some jealous asshole decided to disintegrate their planet.”

Lucy felt her scalp tingle as she blushed to the roots of her hair. The other sensation was much lower—like her uterus had blushed as well.

“I’m surprised some of the assholes around here haven’t tried to kill him,” Jublansk went on. “He’s taking a big risk advertising himself like that.”

The thought of Tarq being in danger sent a rush of adrenaline coursing through Lucy’s blood. Her hands were shaking as she scooped the wedge of pie onto a plate. “But he’s not doing it for the sex,” she protested. “He’s trying to produce more Zetithians.”

Jublansk shook her head. “He could do that artificially. He doesn’t have to be here; he could have sent his semen to the local clinics. No, make no mistake, Lucy. He likes spreading it around and he likes women. He was eyeing you as a potential customer—though you probably didn’t realize it.”

“C-customer?” Lucy stammered. “That makes it sound like I’d have to pay him. He didn’t say anything about money, and he does it for free—he said so on the commercial.”

“Didn’t when he was on Rhylos.” Dipping her fingers in a lump of soft butter, she greased the dough and then covered it with a large bowl. “From what I hear, to spend time with him, you had to book him a year in advance—
and
pay a thousand credits.”

Lucy’s jaw dropped. “A
thousand
credits?”

Jublansk nodded. “Friend of mine said her cousin went there once—place called the Zetithian Palace. Didn’t do this guy, but the one she had was a redhead who could fuck the tusk off a Twilanan—damn near did, seeing as how she
is
Twilanan,” Jublansk added reflectively. “Anyway, if he’s not charging for it now, it’s because he’s already made a fortune.”

“But if he’s rich, then why would he—?”

“Because he
likes
it,” Jublansk said firmly. “He’s the kind of man who could never be satisfied with just one woman. The kind who could seriously break your heart.”

Lucy wasn’t deterred by this since she never intended to give him her heart anyway. She could never hold on to a man like that; she only wanted his children. Not having to pay the thousand credits made it a win/win proposition.

But there was a tiny little spark inside her that wanted just a little more. Granted, she’d seen very few examples of lasting love—her own parents barely spoke to one another—but never having had the opportunity to give it a shot bothered her a bit. It would have been nice to think that her father’s attitude had kept her from heartbreak, but what good was a heart if you never used it? Having children to love would be better than nothing. But loving one’s children wasn’t the same as loving a spouse—something she would probably never experience unless she left town, and there was no guarantee even then. No, if Tarq didn’t want a lasting relationship, so much the better. She would go into the arrangement knowing that her heart would remain intact and she would emerge with three beautiful children. Jublansk’s warnings didn’t deter her in the slightest. In fact, they only strengthened her resolve.

Lucy yawned, feigning boredom. “I don’t know why anyone would want to have triplets anyway. One at a time is bad enough.”

Jublansk shrugged. “Good thing if you’re trying to bring back an endangered species, though. Just imagine how many descendants he’ll have. It boggles the mind.”

Lucy couldn’t argue with that; her babies would have half siblings out the wazoo.

“How many descendants will who have?” Neris asked as she came bouncing in to pick up a loaf of fresh bread.

Not wanting to seem too anxious or interested in him, Lucy didn’t bother to answer, knowing that Jublansk would say it for her. Then again, Neris wasn’t what you’d call incisive; she might not draw the obvious conclusion even if Lucy were to state her intentions out loud. Jublansk explained while pulling a tray of loaves from the oven. Lucy took a deep breath, inhaling the heavenly aroma of Jublansk’s bread. She could bake like no one else and was one of the restaurant’s biggest draws, no matter how good the fish was.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve seen him,” Neris said, brushing off the idea like a crumb from her sleeve. “Not my type.”

Lucy, for one, couldn’t imagine any woman saying such a thing, but then, Neris wasn’t your typical female. Lucy had always thought of her as a woman—and with her perky blond ponytail and earrings, she certainly looked like one—but being a hermaphrodite from Tryos, Neris had never claimed to belong to either gender. Her clothing tended to be more masculine, and there was something in the line of her jaw as well as the corded muscles in her arms that suggested the male, but she had a softness in her eyes that was quite feminine.

“I wonder if he’s ever done a Tryosian,” Jublansk mused.