by Joanna Wylde
“Turn around so I can cuff you.”
He did as he was told, wincing as the polymer strips went tight around his hands. He could feel his circulation slow immediately, and realized that he might lose his hands if they were kept on long enough. Of course, that was assuming that he stayed alive long enough to lose them. For all he knew, he was headed to his own execution.
They marched him down the hall to small room. In it was a table, behind which sat Josiah. Standing behind him was Celia. Her throat appeared to be completely healed, and Jerred breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been afraid he’d killed her. He had heard them coming up behind him and moved the knife, but it had happened much faster than he’d anticipated.
“How are you doing, Jerred?” Josiah asked, something dangerously close to a smirk on his face.
“Lovely,” Jerred replied, forcing himself to give a casual smile. “Although I have to say, I liked the earlier accommodations better.”
“Well, it is lonely in these cells,” Josiah said. “I understand you’ve gotten used to having company.”
Jerred bit the inside of his lip, willing himself not to give in to temptation and ask about Giselle. She needed to live, and that wouldn’t happen if she got stuck with him. He swallowed, and then spoke casually.
“I’ve been through worse. Why don’t you tell me what you plan to do with me?”
“You are so direct that it’s vulgar,” Josiah replied. “I’ve always disliked that about you. Don’t you want to know how your little Giselle is doing? Or rather, who she’s doing?”
“She’s a whore I found in a bar,” Jerred said. “I’m more interested in what you have planned for me.”
“What, not concerned that she knows your secrets?” Josiah asked archly. “You’re slipping, Jerred. Safety first, remember?”
Jerred cursed himself internally. Josiah was right. His first concern should have been protecting the information revealed over dinner. Mission procedure called for someone like her to be terminated. But if he changed his story now, the bastard was likely to kill her just spite him. No weakness, he thought to himself. You can’t afford to show any weakness here.
“I’m more concerned about what’s going to happen to me,” he said slowly. “My secrets aren’t worth a damn if I’m dead.”
“Now that remains to be seen,” Josiah said archly. “I’ve found all kind of interesting information on your ship. Does Lord Drake Van’Ot know the Saurellian government has such an interest in him? I think that tidbit of information might be valuable to certain parties. Perhaps the Emperor’s chief of security?”
“I would be wary of deals made with the Emperor’s chief of security,” Jerred said. “He’s not a nice man, and he tends not to keep his promises of safe conduct.”
“Oh, yes,” Josiah said, offering Jerred a frown of mock sympathy. “There was that unfortunate little incident with your diplomats, wasn’t there?”
“That little incident started an interstellar war,” Jerred gritted out. He’d lost good friends on that trip. It still hurt to think about.
“Don’t be naive,” Josiah said. “The war was going to happen anyway. Suing for peace was just good form—the battleships were already in place.”
Jerred tried not to think how true that might be.
“Think what you like to think,” Josiah said slyly, as if reading his thoughts. “It won’t change the ultimate truth of my words. I’m still left with my problem, though. I can’t quite decide what to do with you? Should I let Celia decide?”
The woman in question gave a squeal of surprise and leaned forward.
“I’d take very good care of him,” she purred. “Just let me have him.”
“Would I still be alive after you were done?” Jerred asked softly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” she said lightly. “Ten minutes in the growth generator and I was fine. It’s amazing what those nano-machines can do for a woman. Of course, I haven’t forgiven you yet. It really was rude of you to treat me like that.”
“I also haven’t decided what to do with your little pet,” Josiah said. “But I have a feeling I’ll try her out before I do anything else. See what keeps you interested in her.”
Jerred shrugged, trying not to think about it. It would be better if she went with Josiah. She had a better chance for survival, more of a chance for a future. And image of Josiah touching her with those pale hands ripped through his head, and he held back a shudder of hate. Seeing her in his arms would be better than seeing her dead.
“I think I’ll send Celia back to your cell with you,” Josiah said. “I’ll be visiting with your friend. I’ll let you know if I like her as much as you seem to.”
Jerred forced himself to hold still. Josiah stood slowly and walked around the table. He walked up to him and leaned in close, whispering in Jerred’s ear.
“Does she like it up the ass?” he asked softly. “She looks like she might. I hope you’ve broken her in well, because I like it rough.”
Jerred closed his eyes, concentrating on his breath. In and out. Think of something else.
Josiah laughed deep and low in his throat, and then walked away. The guards came up and grasped his upper arms, roughly pulling him to his feet and out the door.
He could hear Celia following behind them, talking quickly.
“I want you to turn the lights down and bring me a torch,” she said.
“That’s a security risk,” one of the guards said. “You’ll have to make due with the lighting in the room.”
“Just having me here is a security risk,” she whined. Jerred winced. How had this woman ever been one of his favorites? She seemed so nasty compared to Giselle. Always wheedling and using her wiles to get what she wanted.
Giselle was open and honest.
He liked that about her.
When they got back to his room, they thrust him down on his cot roughly.
“Tie his arms and legs,” Celia said. “I don’t want him moving too much. And I don’t want him to be able to get at me again. I have plans for him.”
They laughed, and rolled him over on his back. He thought about fighting, but there didn’t seem to be much point. It was better to conserve his strength for when he’d need it. If he had a chance to escape, he wanted to be ready. Although how he would manage to escape and rescue Giselle was beyond him at this point. One thing was utterly clear, though. He wasn’t leaving without her.
Within seconds they had both his legs and arms secured. Celia sauntered over toward him, and he suddenly remembered why he had liked her so much. With her fully, pouty lips and her dusky skin, she had the power to arouse any man. Physically she was stunning. If only her eyes weren’t quite so hard… The fleeting attraction faded. He wanted Giselle, with her fair skin and her silly little freckles.
Celia leaned in closer and smiled in what he imagined was supposed to be seductive manner. He watched her with something close to indifference, even as she reached a hand down to cup him through his pants. His cock hardened, but he felt strangely detached. Her body called to his on a purely physical level. He didn’t want her—she disgusted him. Her fingers massaged him slowly. He shook his head, and spoke.
“I don’t want to do this with you, Celia,” he said slowly. “You’re a beautiful woman, but this is wrong. You shouldn’t touch someone who doesn’t want to be touched.”
“Oh, really?” she asked, her voice low and husky. “You say you don’t want to be touched, but your cock is telling me something else. You’re hard for me.”
“It’s a physical response,” he replied. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“I’ll tell you what,” she replied. “You go ahead and keep telling yourself that. I’ll go ahead and touch you for a while. Then you can make your decision.”
He shook his head again, but she ignored him, opting to kneel on the floor and slowly unclasp his shirt. He’d expected her to go straight for his cock, but she was too smart for that. Instead she sta
rted massaging his taut legs. He tensed, trying to keep her from getting to him. But her fingers felt good. They dug into his muscles, and he realized just how tense he’d gotten.
Her fingers dug into his tight muscles, and he felt himself relaxing. She was devious all right. She knew that if she went straight to his cock he’d be strong. But this sense of relaxation, this cool peace that washed over him—that was sensuality on a different level. He closed his eyes, trying to think of something else. All he could think of was her touch and how good it felt.
Then she leaned forward over him and he felt a tingle of sensation as her hair brushed against him. Her lips touched his chest and he gasped. She nibbled at him, occasionally letting her tongue flick out to touch him, but mostly nipping him with her lips. She came close to his nipple several times, but always pulled away, teasing him. His nipples hardened, and he sucked in a deep breath. It wasn’t supposed to be this way—he didn’t want to respond to her. His own weakness disgusted him, but it did nothing to stop his reaction to her touch.
Witch.
She nibbled at him once more, her hands still moving lightly across his muscles. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she returned to his nipples. This time she touched them, flicking at them with her hot, wet tongue. He shivered, and when she reached down to grasp his cock firmly he couldn’t help but groan.
Damn, he wanted inside her.
Instantly, thoughts of what she felt like leapt into his mind. He’d been with her many, many times. Her mouth was a clever as her tongue, and she knew how to ride a man. A night with her was enough to wring him dry, leaving him breathless. Once upon a time he’d looked forward to seeing her.
Giselle. He tried to think about Giselle, but imagining the buttery white smoothness of her skin didn’t help. If anything, he grew harder. What if it were Giselle who touched him like this?
Celia gave a low, throaty noise as the thought sped through his mind, and he realized his cock was now rock hard and twitching in her hand.
Damn.
She pulled away from him briefly, and then his pants were open. He felt the coolness of the air on his member, and he opened his eyes. He wanted to look at her, to realize that she wasn’t Giselle.
To see her for what she was.
The guards chose that moment to dim the bright light of his cell. She was gone in the darkness, no more than a shadow. For all he knew, she could be Giselle, his traitorous body whispered. He could give in, accept her touch. All he had to do was imagine that she was Giselle, and he’d get his release.
Her head moved lower on his body, and she kissed his belly slowly and deliberately. Her hand began to work up and down his turgid length. He shuddered as the hot, wet opening of her mouth moved lower, approaching his cock. He shivered in anticipation, desperately wanting her to touch him.
If she did, he would be lost.
She touched him.
He gasped, and for the first time thrashed again his bonds, trying to get away from her. Her mouth opened slowly around his length, sucking him like some kind of dreadful beast. He shuddered, lifting his hips and pushing up into her warmth. She moved slowly down his length, and then pulled back up. She was an expert, a professional, and in that instant it became all too clear to him that no matter what he might have thought, Giselle was no professional. When she touched him, it had been with an earnest desire. She hadn’t been polished like Celia.
The thought gave him a new power, a new control over himself. He imagined Giselle again, this time as she looked over dinner. Her cheeks had been flushed, and her nose crinkled in laughter.
Adorable.
It was enough. He felt his desire fading.
“Celia, you can suck on me all you want, but it won’t get you anywhere,” he said softly. “I really don’t have much interest in you.”
She froze over him, and then started moving again. He was still hard, but now he felt no urgency, no desire to release. What she was doing felt good, but it had no meaning. He was in control again.
“Celia, your mouth is going to get sore,” he said. “And so is my cock. Wouldn’t it just be easier to end this now?”
She pulled away from him, stilling in the darkness.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” she asked softly. “You really don’t want to be with me.”
To his surprise, she sounded almost hurt.
“You love her, don’t you?”
He stayed silent, unwilling to betray himself. She was right. He loved Giselle. How had that happened?
Celia, of course, would report this conversation back to Josiah as soon as she left. He needed to do something.
“I don’t give a damn about either of you,” he said roughly. “Has it occurred to you that I simply don’t want to fuck a whore like you any more? Goddess only knows what kinds of diseases you have. At least Giselle’s clean. I had her checked before I bought her.”
“She’s your slave?” Celia asked, her tone incredulous.
“No,” he muttered. “I simply contracted with her. An exclusive contract. Now the little bitch is fucking Josiah and doesn’t seem to think she owes me a damn thing. Of course, my credits are already safe in her bank account…”
She didn’t reply, and he held his breath. Did she believe him?
She stood abruptly and knocked on the door.
“Jakab, open the door for me,” she said, her voice angry. There was no answer. “Jakab, open the damn door. I know you’ve been listening. You’ve probably been watching. Open the damn door now.”
The door slid open and she left. Jerred lay alone in the darkness.
His hands and feet were losing some sensation, but he didn’t think the ties so tight that he was in serious danger. His cock was still out. He imagined it would be embarrassing when they came to let him up. It didn’t matter though, because he had learned something.
He loved Giselle. He smiled in the darkness. Now he just had to figure out how to escape and rescue her.
Chapter Nine
Giselle sat in her room, fuming. The more she thought about what had happened, the angrier she grew. Who was this man to play with people’s lives?
Josiah had her taken to a very nice room, she couldn’t complain about that. But she could complain about the lock on the door and the rather unpalatable choices he wanted her to make. At least she’d learned one thing. He wasn’t interested in her personally. He wanted to use her to hurt Jerred, something that made her even angrier. Sure, the man was insufferable. Hell, he was even an ass sometimes. But something inside her rebelled at the thought of Josiah using her against him. If anyone was going to call him an ass, it should be her, she thought wryly. Josiah was just going to have to wait in line.
Thinking about him made her mad, too. He just assumed she’d dump him if a better prospect came along. He certainly didn’t think that highly of her. Beside that, if Celia was any sign, women weren’t too valued on this station. Despite what everyone seemed to think, she wasn’t a whore; she was a barmaid. Big difference. But even if there were bars on this unfortunate chunk of metal, she had a feeling they wouldn’t be hiring on the kind of terms she liked to see in her employers.
There was nothing else for it; she was going to have break them out of this hunk of junk. The thought make her laugh. After all, guards surrounded her. This was Josiah’s station, and he clearly controlled everyone and everything on it.
But she had a few things going for her, she thought coolly. She was station-born and bred. As a child on Vega, she’d learned all about the little nooks and crannies that filled even the most carefully designed stations. She was still relatively small, and while her hair was noticeable, it wasn’t so bad when she pulled it back in a braid. In fact, unless he had thought to restrict her access to food, she could probably even manage to order something up to color her hair with. If she got the chance to run, she wanted to be ready to take it. She wandered over to the data terminal, hoping against hope that his “access to the library” included data privilege
s. If it did, she was set.
She flipped on the terminal, opting to use the manual interface, and checked into the ’net. There was the library all right. She took a moment to look it over, surprised to see that it went far beyond the standard titles one might expect on a station of this size. There were the most recent vids and lits, far more than she’d seen in the data shops on Transit Three. Whatever else Josiah was, he must be an educated man. He and his people had an impressive library.
She chose an Imperial space opera at random and flicked it on to the large vid screen. Hopefully that would distract anyone who might be watching her. Of course, if they were monitoring her data terminal it wouldn’t do her much good, but it would provide minimal cover against the casual observer. She flicked through data screens, wishing she’d had more interest in the ’nets as a child. She knew there were ways to hack into them, to move around so that nobody could see what she was doing. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a clue as to how one even tried something like that.
She flicked back out of the library, discovering that the station’s public ‘net was open to her. She started by calling up a map. It wasn’t as detailed as she might like, but it did give her some general idea of how big the station was. She looked in the directory for a brig or jail, but nothing was listed.
She sighed—that would have been too easy.
Instead, she took a moment to look over the station. It seemed to be built along the lines of a giant cylinder, spinning on its axis to provide gravity. She winced. It was an ancient design, the kind usually reserved for habitats around planets.
She sat back and tried to think.
If the station was based on the habitat design, the exterior should be fairly uniform. Sure, there would be protrusions and hatches and such, but still, it was hardly likely that there were giant holes in it. That just didn’t fit in with the design. In the map she’d found online there were several large, dark spaces that really should have been filled.
She decided they probably were filled, but just filled with things that weren’t available to anyone who happened to access the general ’net. She’d bet her last credit Jerred was hidden there. There were four of them, two at each end of the station. Given that the whole thing had to be six or seven miles long, she decided it made sense to work on the assumption that he would be in one of the closer areas. It seemed to make sense that all prisoners would be held in the same general area. She probably wouldn’t be able to travel the length of station without being caught, anyway.
