Cat Star 04 - Outcast

by Cheryl Brooks

  Approval. Perhaps that was what had changed him. She approved of him and the work he'd done. That had been it. Surely that was what had begun the process of change. He must have known it somehow, and had done as much as he could for her, just to win that very thing.

  An hour or two later, Bonnie and Ulla both awakened, the baby being very hungry, and the mother feeling more sated than ever before. Lynx was right there to change Ulla's diaper before placing her gently in the bed beside Bonnie. As he slipped in behind her and held her against his purring chest, Bonnie realized that this was how it could have been—and possibly would have been—right after Ulla was born if only she hadn't been too stub­born to ask for his help. She couldn't have been sure that the tenderness he'd shown toward her during her labor would have persisted after the birth, and it might not have turned out to be as good as it was now, but she still should have given him the chance. It might have spared them all some pain.

  But Bonnie was determined not to think that way anymore. She would think positively and do her utmost to make Lynx and Ulla's lives the best they could be. Her mind drifted, and she smiled to herself, because just knowing that she could bring Lynx to climax made her very happy indeed.

  Bonnie noted that Lynx either hadn't bothered to dress when he went out, or if he had, he'd stripped down as soon as he returned. It was funny in a way, because after all the time she had spent wondering if she would ever catch him with his pants off, she was beginning to wonder if he'd ever wear them again. Not that she minded in the slightest, because snuggling in with his warm, naked body against hers was a treasure beyond price.

  "I hope you never get dressed again," she sighed. "I love looking at you, feeling you, touching you."

  Lynx breathed in her scent. Yes, she loved him, and that knowledge sent rivers of warmth coursing through his body. "I will do as you wish," he murmured. "I enjoy pleasing you."

  "Stay naked then, at least for today," she pleaded. "I saw you once, late at night. I—I thought you were beautiful."

  "But I am a man, and men are not beautiful," he whispered. "It must have been the moonlight tricking your eyes."

  "I disagree," she said. "I look at you and I feel... something... something I've never felt before. It's... hard to explain."

  "Do not try," he said, kissing her neck. Her hair was growing longer, too, and it tickled his cheek. He liked that sensation.

  As Ulla sighed and fell into blissful slumber, Lynx pulled Bonnie onto her back and lay between her out­stretched legs with his head pillowed on her chest. "You are beautiful," he told her, raising his head to look into her eyes. "Your golden hair, your sparkling blue eyes..." His gaze drifted over her breasts, full and heavy, the nipples pink and firm. He blew gen­tly on the damp nipple Ulla had just left behind and watched it harden before his eyes. He moved up to kiss the hard bud, flicking it with his tongue, hearing Bonnie's soft moan of pleasure. If his cock had been hard, he would have moved higher, forcing his way inside her waiting body, loving her as she deserved to be loved.

  "Kiss me," she whispered, pulling him toward her.

  Following her command, Lynx slid across her soft skin, seeking her wet lips to delve into her mouth; taking her, tasting her.

  Bonnie's mind went swirling into a maelstrom of delight; Lynx was in her arms, kissing her, his strong body covering her own. Oh, yes... this was joy... He knew he couldn't do it without an erection, but Lynx tried anyway. Bonnie felt his cock and balls sliding over her wet flesh and smiled with warm delight as he broke the kiss and pushed himself up with a hand on either side of her shoulders.

  This was how he should always look, she thought; gazing down at her, his eyes filled with tenderness and love, though clouded with desire. And his smile know­ing and teasing. His smile...

  His balls felt heavy and full as Lynx pushed against her, feeling her heat, her wet softness. She felt so good.

  His cock pressed against her, his balls getting wet with her creamy moisture.

  Moving side to side, Bonnie took up the challenge and, wiggling her hips to get him where she wanted him, with a sharp abdominal contraction, sucked him inside.

  Lynx gasped as he felt the pull. His cock was finally inside her, where it belonged. He was afraid to move, to break the connection, the spell...

  "Mmm, you feel nice," Bonnie purred. "Thick and soft and warm." She felt him slipping away and sucked him in again. "Stay there for a while. I like it." She liked looking up at him, too; his handsome face poised above her wearing an expression of pure delight.

  His balls tingled with an excitement Lynx hadn't felt in a very long time. He was actually inside her! He couldn't help it; he ground in tighter, forcing his cock in deeper, feeling her sweet sheath caressing him. Softness surrounded him, and the scent of her filled his senses. "I wish I could—"

  Bonnie shook her head. "Don't think about that. I love you, Lynx, just the way you are. There is more to you than any other man I've ever known. Much more." She smiled. "You feel absolutely fabulous."

  Lynx arched his back, reveling in the feel of her as she held him; it felt so good, he forgot to purr. There had been a time when his cock could thrust deeply inside a woman and literally dance, but this was good, this was very good. He'd hardly ever gotten to just hold still and feel—not once the other slaves learned what he could do; and they'd pushed him to the point that he could not only move his cock inside them, but could practically vi­brate it. He tried not to think about it; what Bonnie was missing. She was happy with him as he was. She loved him. He knew it; he could smell it and feel it. It should have been enough for him. But he wanted so much to give her everything.

  Bonnie thought she had it all then. It felt good to move with him; gentle, undemanding yet fulfilling just the same. Experimentally, Lynx contracted a long un­used muscle, only to have Bonnie lose her tentative hold on him.

  Since Ulla chose that moment to awaken from her nap, Bonnie considered it to be nothing to be concerned about, but Lynx nearly cursed out loud.

  Ulla began to fret, but seeing Lynx there changed her cry into a smiling coo.

  "I think she likes having you here," Bonnie remarked, giving her baby a tickle. "I don't blame her for that. I like it too." A fleeting pain passed through her heart. Yes, she liked having him here, but would she have to endure his loss when he left? Would Ulla? She was pretty sure Lynx could be trusted at his word, but she'd been lied to before. Looking up at Lynx, she said quietly, "She would miss you as much as I would if you left us now."

  Lynx recognized that statement for what it was; a subtle request for reassurance. "Then she has no reason to fear—until she grows up and leaves us someday."

  Bonnie felt relief wash over her like a wave and sighed deeply. "You know, for a guy who used to make me mad every time you opened your mouth, you sure do know the right things to say."

  "Telling the truth is usually best," he said. "I have no knowledge of what our future holds in store, but I will not leave you—not willingly."

  Bonnie began to speak, but the tightness in her throat stopped her. Instead, she simply nodded and pulled him down for a kiss.

  Sweetness and love; he felt it in her lips and smelled it in the air surrounding her. She loved him, and he would stay.

  Chapter 16

  Lynx might have had every intention of staying, but there was another factor which neither of them had considered. Sylor had spent all the money he'd taken, and his other schemes had failed to live up to their potential. It had proven to be very difficult to survive in his usual manner on such a law-abiding planet, which had been a bitter pill for Sylor to swallow. He had little choice but to admit his mistake and return to Bonnie, and while he had no doubt that he could talk his way back into her good graces, upon his return he found that someone else had taken his place; in his home, in his bed, and in his daughter's life. Sylor knew what Bonnie was like; if this cat-creature was loved by her, he wouldn't leave of his own accord. Sylor still wasn't quite sure why he'd left himself. Perhap
s it was because he knew she'd expected him to—though he knew there was more to it than that. There was something within him that rebelled against the idea of settling down to raise a family, or following the rules—any rules.

  Sylor's own father had been a rather fleeting presence in his life. In fact, Sylor couldn't remember seeing him above five times in the time before he left home, and not at all since then. It wasn't as though he'd had a terrific role model for a parent. But Sylor probably wouldn't have been a model citizen even with a loving family around him. He simply didn't care what happened to anyone but himself, and he was quite willing to let oth­ers sacrifice to meet his needs.

  Sylor knew the law; he had abandoned his homestead and his child, and legally, they could be declared lost to him. He would have to win her back. He would not risk being caught and deported. Not that the authorities hadn't tried, it was just that he was very hard to find when he was of a mind to disappear, even with the track­ing implant. Bonnie must not have told them all they needed to know—if, indeed, she knew anything at all. A man had to have some secrets, after all. There was also the possibility that she hadn't been the one to file the complaint in the first place. Bonnie had had no illu­sions about him and couldn't have been very surprised when he left.

  If only he hadn't agreed to the child! He'd known it was a mistake, but Bonnie had wanted a child so badly, he found it difficult to refuse her. Now it was either come back and pick up where he left off, or be deported. But unless he could get rid of his "replacement," there wasn't much hope for him. Bonnie had had plenty of time to decide he wasn't coming back and put the land in her name exclusively. If that was the case, she prob­ably didn't see the need to file a complaint. But, perhaps someone else had. Someone who would have known she changed the title on the land.

  Drummond. He was the only possibility. If Bonnie hadn't filed the complaint, he must have. Otherwise, Sylor knew he would have been pursued long before this.

  Sylor had felt the call of the wild; the desire to be free of obligations and duties, and he had listened to it, just as he always had—doing whatever happened to suit him at the time. And now, it was in his best interest to return. But how to do it? How to make her want him back?

  He hated resorting to murder, which would have been the easiest way to get rid of such an impediment. Per­haps there was another way...

  Sylor might have been invisible to anyone else, but not to Lynx. Lynx had picked up his scent; the scent em­bedded in the pillow he'd slept on for months. When he first became aware of it, it took him a moment to realize that his pillow wasn't following him, but that the former owner of it was nearby. His first instinct was to fight, but the longer Lynx considered the mat­ter, the more he felt that it might be pointless. Bonnie had never said she didn't love Ulla's father; just that he was gone. Would she take him back? The realization that she probably would hit Lynx so hard he nearly fell. She must have loved him once, Lynx realized, and he had fathered her child. She'd told Lynx that she loved him, but why would she keep him when she could have a man who could be a real lover to her and could give her more children?

  Lynx rubbed the implant in his arm absently. It was still there; a reminder of his former status as a slave. As bad as those memories were, it was a wonder he'd never cut it out before. The moment he was freed, it should have been removed—whatever its purpose. Lynx had imagined all manner of reasons for the device, chief among them that it was a poison that would be released if he should ever attempt to escape. Now that he understood the reason for it, it seemed so simple; the master had not wanted his slave women to give birth to anyone's children but his own.

  Lynx had only been there to serve them, not im­pregnate them. He'd been told he would die if he ever removed the implant, but not the how or the why. He could see it now; if he had removed it, he would have fathered children, and he would have been put to death as a result. Thinking back, Lynx realized that the women must not have known of it either. He'd smelled their fear and heard their whispers. It might have meant their own death to give birth to his child. Some of them might have at least discerned that he was sterile—after all, he'd mated with each one of them, and none of the many chil­dren he'd seen born had ever been his own. He under­stood the reason now, but the pain of it still lingered. It had been cruel, but when did anyone take into account the feelings of a slave?

  But he wasn't a slave anymore. He was a free man, and, scenting his rival, he would fight, perhaps even kill, to keep his mate. On Zetith, such confrontations were rare, for when a woman chose a man for her mate, it was for life. Rivalry was nearly unheard of. But as his blood heated and his hackles rose, he knew that this was something deep; an instinct long buried in his species. He would not give her up without a fight.

  But first, there was something else that needed to be done.

  He found Bonnie in the bathroom on her knees by the tub, engaged in giving a very lively Ulla her bath. With­out preamble, he said: "I want to get rid of this."

  "What?" she said, glancing over her shoulder. "What are you talking about?"

  "This," he said, pointing to the implant in his arm. "I wish to be freed."

  Bonnie pushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes and stared up at him curiously. "But you're already free, Lynx. How will that change anything?"

  "It is a reminder to me of what I once was. I want it gone."

  "Lynx," Bonnie said gently, thinking she understood the reason for his urgency. "It only makes you sterile, not impotent."

  "Still, I want it removed."

  "Right now?" She gathered a squeaky-clean Ulla up in a soft towel and held her close. "Vladen's been gone for a while, so he should be back through here soon. We can probably catch him on the next market day."

  "No," he said with a swift shake of his head. "Now."

  "Sylor had Vladen take his out," Bonnie said doubt­fully. "I'm not sure of the procedure..."

  "It should not be difficult," Lynx said impatiently. "If you will not do it, then I will cut it out myself."

  "Well, now wait a minute, maybe I could—" But she was talking to empty space.

  Now that he'd decided on it, Lynx couldn't wait an­other moment; not for Vladen to return, nor for Bonnie to reluctantly agree. The knife was sharp, and it stung where he cut himself. Forcing the end of the tube through the opening in his skin, he pulled it out, discovering that it hurt far less to remove than it had to put it there. He held it up to the light. It looked so simple, so innocuous. How could such a small device change his life so profoundly?

  Bonnie dressed Ulla quickly and set her down to play on the floor. She found Lynx in the kitchen, bleeding, and the implant gone, smashed into a thou­sand pieces.

  "Boy, when you decide to do something, you don't waste any time, do you?" Bonnie commented. Search­ing his face, she tried to get some idea of why he'd felt it was so urgent. Her voice sincere and her expression quite serious, she added, "I would have done it for you, Lynx. I was just... busy."

  Lynx was already feeling a bit chagrined for his im­patience. "I could not wait," he said with a shrug. "I do not know why." He did know, but the fact that Sylor was in the vicinity was one that he was reluctant to impart to Bonnie. How would she react when he told her? He had no idea whether she would be angry or elated, but he was hoping for anger. Sylor had left her, stolen from her, and while she'd told Lynx she loved him, he'd never heard her say she loved Sylor, but Lynx was sure she must have at one time. He knew her well enough by this time to know that she would not treat such a matter lightly.

  "Well, no harm done," Bonnie said briskly. "I might have swabbed it with an antiseptic first if I'd done it, but I don't think there's anything to worry about." Bonnie was glad Lynx had been the one to insist on removing the implant, because she didn't want him to think that her only interest in the matter was to restore his sexual capability—which wasn't the real reason at all, but it would have been a welcome side effect.

  "I am not worried," Lynx said. "I have suffere
d worse injuries with no ill effect." He hesitated for a moment, debating on what to say to her. Taking a deep breath, he said, "But I was told I would die if it was ever removed."

  Bonnie felt the floor give way beneath her feet. "And you pulled it out anyway?" It terrified her to think that she might have been wrong. "Oh, my God," she said faintly. "Maybe it wasn't what I thought it was after all! Maybe we should—"

  "No," Lynx said quickly, cutting her off. "You were correct; if I had fathered a child while I was a slave, it probably would have resulted in my being killed." He winced as the other thought came to him, "—along with the child—and possibly the child's mother."

  "I didn't think about the possibility of you being killed," Bonnie admitted. "But I did think about the chil­dren. That's why the women didn't want their babies to be yours, Lynx. It had nothing to do with you personally." Noting his stricken expression, she added, "It was pretty heartless not to explain it to you, but you were a slave."