Justin

by Allyson James

  Justin slid his knee between her thighs, liking the tight coverall that let him feel every part of her. She gasped as he pressed her legs open, then her eyes softened as he stroked his thigh against her pussy.

  Her little noise of surrender made his Shareem needs kick in. Justin looped his hand around her wrists, holding them locked together while he pushed her down to the seat.

  She squirmed under him, but Justin held her firmly, continuing to lick and stroke her mouth. His questing fingers found the fastening of her coverall, and he jerked the coverall open from neck to waist.

  Beneath it, Deanna wore an almost sheer tunic, the rosy buds of her nipples displayed against the fabric. Justin held her down while he tongued one nipple through the tunic, loving how it rose and tightened against his lips. Deanna arched up to him as Justin closed his mouth over her breast and suckled.

  He could have her now, holding her down on the soft cushion of the seat. He could tear the silk open and feast on her bare flesh, licking his way down to her pussy, which he could scent was wet and open for him.

  She’d taste good, her hot spice flavoring the bare flower of her pussy, the hard berry of her clit. Then he’d have the coverall off, and he’d thrust into her, sating the need that was burning him up.

  The driver couldn’t see—he’d cut off sound and sight to give his passengers privacy. The man was used to driving Brianne with Aiden and Ky. He’d probably learned a long time ago that it was best not know what went on in his back seat.

  Justin’s imagination flicked briefly to Aiden and Ky, two hard-bodied Shareem sandwiching pretty Brianne, in this compartment, pheromones thick, and his libido snapped tighter. Justin liked a bit of voyeurism now and again to whet his appetite—these days, he didn’t have much more than that.

  But the picture quickly dissolved. He wanted it to be just him and just Deanna, for them to find their deepest pleasure alone together.

  Justin kissed his way up to her throat. “Hire me,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Hire me.” He raised his head. “Like I offered before, let me show you what being with a Shareem can be.”

  Deanna gave him a little smile, her eyes languid. “You mean, this isn’t it?”

  “No.” Not by a long way. He wanted to discover every single one of her desires and feed them to her. “Hire me, and I’ll give you a night you’ll never forget.”

  From the heat blossoming in her eyes, she wanted it. She wanted him. Her body gave off desire in waves, the female scent of her kicking Justin’s hard-on into high gear.

  Her eagerness died. “I can’t.”

  No, no, sweetheart, don’t say no. “Yes, you can.”

  Deanna shook her head. “I don’t want it to be like that.”

  Neither did Justin. He wanted her to be with him because she wanted him, nothing more.

  On Sirius, selling sexual favors had been illegal. Sex between two consenting adult beings—human, alien, cyborg, same sex, same whatever—was fine, but no using sex as a commodity. Almost the opposite of Bor Narga, where physical sex was taboo, but ladies secretly hired Shareem for forbidden pleasure.

  Justin traced her cheek. “Here’s what I want you to do. Go home. Get plenty of rest. Then come back and find me. I’ll give you a night. Just you and me, no strings, no contracts. Just you and me,” he repeated, kissing her. “Understand?”

  “Justin, I’m a patroller.”

  “On leave of absence. Leave the uniform at home. We’ll be Justin and Deanna, not patroller and Shareem, not anybody but us.”

  The car slowed and stopped, and Justin knew they’d reached his apartment. “All right?” he asked, not moving.

  Deanna’s breath came fast, her chest rising to his. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Think until dark. Then come to me.”

  “I said, I’ll think about it.”

  Feisty sweetheart. “Fine.” Justin sat up, gently pulled her coverall together and fastened it, then turned on the speaker to the chauffer. “Take the lady wherever she wants to go.”

  “Got it,” the chauffer answered.

  The door next to Justin slid open, revealing the dusty street and Justin’s front door.

  Justin pulled Deanna up for one last kiss, then he extricated himself from the car and signaled for the driver to go. He stepped back and made himself not give in to his impulse to dive back into the car and ravish Deanna all the way home.

  The car sped off, spewing dust all over Justin while he stood in the street and watched them go.

  *** *** ***

  Justin knew he’d never last until Deanna came back—if she came back. She was the kind of woman who’d talk herself out of giving in to her desires. Justin might have to chase her a little harder, but he didn’t mind the chase. In fact, he looked forward to it.

  But right now, his body was hot, his cock pounding hard again. His choices for release were to spend more time with his hand, to get falling down drunk, or to work it off.

  He didn’t want to be falling down drunk or hung over if Deanna returned, and his hand wasn’t the funnest date, so he decided to work it off.

  Judith, the sweetie, had rented out a small warehouse and turned it into Shareem paradise. The place contained baths and showers, a private place to hang out and be with Shareem friends, and a dungeon-like room underneath where Shareem could bring their more adventurous ladies.

  The enormous pool in the bath area had one mirrored wall, behind which women could sit and watch Shareem cavort, if cavorting Shareem was their thing.

  Usually the pool was for Shareem alone, but today a lady was there—Jeanne, the lover of Eland. They were in the water together, both naked, Jeanne with legs wrapped around Eland while Eland cradled her hips in his hands. They never minded who watched whatever they did, those crazy kids.

  Jeanne had been a factory worker who’d met Eland right after DNAmo shut down. She’d protected him from the patrollers who were hunting Shareem to terminate them, and Eland and Jeanne had hit it off.

  When the termination order for all Shareem had been lifted, Eland and Jeanne had stayed together. They sometimes brought in other partners, male or female, for fun, but the two had formed a permanent bond.

  Watching the two now in the water together, gazing into each other’s eyes, gave Justin a lonely feeling. He was glad for them, but their happiness underscored the emptiness inside him.

  “Get a room,” Justin said jokingly as he stripped to the skin and splashed his way into the pool.

  Chapter Seven

  “We did,” Eland rumbled. “We’re relaxing.”

  Eland was big, even for a Shareem. A level three, he had muscles like a heavyweight wrestler.

  Justin swam a lap, liking that the water was cool today, refreshing after the heat. Water cascaded into the pool from a stone spout high in a wall, and Justin came up under the waterfall.

  “You’re displacing half the pool with that cock,” Eland said. “If you’re going to blow in here, tell me so I can get out first.”

  “That’s why I’m under the cold shower, idiot,” Justin said. “Trying to deflate.”

  Jeanne sent him a smile. “We can help you, you know.” She wriggled her tongue to let him know her mouth was available, as long as Eland was there to watch her use it.

  But Justin wanted Deanna’s mouth. Her red-lipped, soft mouth that turned up into such a cute smile.

  Shit, why did he have to think of that? She wouldn’t come to him tonight, and he’d have this erection forever.

  “Thanks, but I’ll swim it off.” Justin tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice cracked.

  Jeanne laughed at him. “I’m the wrong lady, am I? Uh-oh.”

  Justin snaked his hand under the water and squeezed his cock. Calm down, dry up, go on vacation, he told it.

  It wasn’t listening. Okay, change the subject.

  He swam over to Eland and Jeanne, who watched him approach without much curiosity. When Justin was close enough that hi
s words wouldn’t carry to anyone who happened to be behind the mirrors, he asked, “Jeanne, any word?”

  Jeanne glanced at the wall and also lowered her voice. “I might know someone who used to know her. A friend of mine said she knew a woman named Lillian who she thinks once worked at DNAmo.”

  Justin’s heart beat faster. “Is this friend still in touch with her?”

  “She hasn’t seen Lillian for years now, she says. They’d been close friends, but Lillian moved from Pas City and never kept in touch.”

  Too much to hope for. “Can I talk to this friend?” Maybe she’d know enough about Lillian to give Justin a lead on where she might have gone.

  “Sure,” Jeanne said. “I’ll set it up.” She cocked Justin a look. “Sure you’re not up for a little threesome action?”

  “Not today, honey. I have a cock-ache.”

  Jeanne only shrugged. Eland gave Justin a look of sympathy, but one that told him he was an idiot for passing up the chance for sex.

  Last week, Justin might have taken them up on it and gotten some heat out of his system. After meeting Deanna—not as appealing. Sex with friends was not what he wanted right now.

  I have to be crazy. I’m looking for something deeper with a patroller.

  Justin took himself out of the pool and hit the showers, setting the water temperature to freezing. He still needed his hand to finally release, so he could walk home without a big stick hanging between his legs.

  He really needed a better life.

  *** *** ***

  Deanna was home an hour before she stopped shaking. She hadn’t even been able to enjoy the ride in the luxurious car, something she’d probably never have the chance to do again.

  She still felt Justin’s mouth on hers, robbing her of breath, his big body pressing her into the seat. He’d been heavy, too strong to fight, not that she’d wanted to fight.

  Mouth on her nipple, tongue bringing it to life, making it his, as he’d stroked between her legs with his thigh. He’d been hard and ready, the ridge of his cock against her unbelievable huge.

  To feel that going into her would be . . . Deanna had no idea. She had no context.

  Her shaking finally stopped when her mother’s companion, Reda, brought her mother home from the rehab center. Reda shook her head when Deanna looked a question, which told Deanna that her mother was having one of her bad days.

  Deanna hugged her mother though the woman sat straight and unresponsive in her chair. Her eyes were focused on nothing as Reda combed out her silver and black hair.

  The disorder that had afflicted Deanna’s mother was technological, not physiological. Kayla Surrell had been on a layover in a space station and wandered by accident into an area that had been closed off for radiation leak repairs. She’d gotten dosed with some complicated chemical that Deanna still didn’t understand, which had at first paralyzed her.

  Kayla had survived by good luck alone—someone spotted her and dragged her out into good air—but she’d never spoken again. The chemicals had tangled up her nervous system, and now, though she still had most of her motor functions, she did not respond to stimulus much of the time.

  Some days, Kayla would almost respond, and Deanna would grow hopeful that her mother was getting better. Then she’d relapse into nothingness and have to have her every bodily need met by Reda and Deanna.

  Deanna kissed her mother good night and let Reda put her to bed, though it was still early afternoon.

  Justin had asked Deanna to return tonight, to be with him.

  So, so tempting. Deanna would love one evening to forget everything, to feast her senses in a man like Justin, to feel something.

  But she couldn’t afford to let him bamboozle her. Her mother was why Deanna couldn’t lose her job.

  Deanna fixed a bite of late lunch in the kitchen and shut herself into her room with her computer. She had a pretty high clearance in the computer databases of Bor Narga, even on a leave of absence, and she was going to learn everything she could about Justin.

  Not long later, Justin’s case files from DNAmo opened like flowers under her fingertips. These records had been sealed, but now that more than twenty years had passed, access had been granted to those with the right clearance. A Patroller First Class, the highest level of the uniformed patrollers, had the right clearance.

  Deanna went through the records, reading every word.

  The notes on Justin indicated he hadn’t given the researchers at DNAmo too much trouble. He’d stoically taken the researchers’ experiments every day, experiments that had involved a lot of sex.

  The first mention of any trouble was about a worker called K-48.

  K-designated workers, colloquially referred to as “guinea pigs,” were women hired by DNAmo to participate in sex experiments with the Shareem. The experiments were designed to find out what Shareem would do and how much they could be controlled under certain sets of circumstances—basically discovering what a level one would do, how far a level two would go, how rough a level three might get before his programming stopped him.

  Justin performed as a perfect level two, the notes said, but his behavior toward K-48 was troubling.

  Justin and K-48 talk to each other during the experiments, but we can’t hear what they say. When asked what he is telling her, Justin refuses to answer, even when he is punished. We have no means of compelling K-48 to speak because of the privacy clause in her contract.

  A later note said: K-48 and the subject Justin were confined alone together for a seven-day period. During that time, Justin used every method he’d been taught on her and never seemed to run out of stamina. He let K-48 rest when she needed to, but he has a most unusual ability to work continuously.

  More entries about Justin’s progress, much of it in medical-speak, with no mention of K-48, followed. Finally Deanna found another reference.

  Justin’s obsession with K-48 has reached an alarming level. He refused to participate in the day’s experiments and demanded to know where she was and what happened to her. When told we couldn’t convey that information, he turned violent and had to be confined.

  The director agreed we could bring back K-48 to see what effect it had on him. K-48 appeared to be quite pleased to see Justin, and when left alone, they held on to each other for a long time. We became aware then that they were speaking rapidly, but we couldn’t hear what was said, and we removed her.

  I and the director conclude that the Shareem has formed an attachment to K-48. Because Shareem are to be programmed to form no attachments to their clients whatsoever, recommend immediate transfer of K-48 to another section.

  A final note on K-48 said, The Shareem Justin reacted violently when he was told that K-48 had been transferred and he’d not be allowed to see her again. He demanded assurances that she was all right and not harmed. Even after we gave him that, he was surly and uncooperative and had to be injected to calm him down.

  End of references to K-48. Apparently, Justin had gone back to being a compliant Shareem—either that or the researchers hadn’t bothered bother to record any more of his reaction to the absence of K-48.

  A few weeks later, Justin was sold to an off-world woman, packed up, and transported to Sirius, never to be seen on Bor Narga until a month ago.

  What about K-48? Deanna skimmed through the database until she found her.

  Her records had been sealed for privacy, but again, Deanna’s clearance and the requisite time having passed opened them.

  K-48’s image popped up on Deanna’s holoscreen. A pretty young woman, sturdy of build, typical of the lower-class women of Pas City.

  Her records contained a statement from her that she’d signed up for the program because of the high payment offered. She’d been paired only with Justin for the experiments, because she’d requested that she not be put with more than one Shareem at a time.

  No details about the experiments were listed in her records, but a note said she’d been transferred to the level-one section the morni
ng after the suggestion that she be moved had been put into Justin’s file.

  The day after K-48 was transferred, she terminated her contract and quit the program. Interesting.

  K-48’s name was Lillian Passan, a working-class woman from a working-class family in Pas City. She’d worked at DNAmo for a total of six months.

  Deanna moved the DNAmo records to the background and did a general search on Lillian Passan. She easily found Lillian’s birth records, her school records, her job history, and the record of her signing up for DNAmo. DNAmo had done background checks on their test subjects, so Lillian’s entire life was now open to Deanna.

  Not much to it. After Lillian had quit DNAmo, she’d moved back in with her parents. There, the information ended. No more jobs, no moves, no trips off planet. Nothing. She’d stayed home with her parents, and that was it.

  Deanna keyed in the address of Lillian’s family’s apartment. No Passans living there now. A Rose Passan and a Samuel Passan who’d leased the apartment fifteen years ago were listed as deceased—Lillian’s parents.

  But no Lillian. Deanna did more searches on Lillian but found nothing.

  She sat back, staring at the small holographic woman turning slowly on her console. If Deanna wanted an explanation of why Justin had returned to Bor Narga, this was it. His lifemate on Sirius had died, and he’d returned to find Lillian.

  A little pain burned in Deanna’s heart. She thought of Justin’s lips on hers, he pushing her back onto the seat, his kiss one of desperate hunger. She thought of what he’d whispered to her in his apartment, You are beautiful, and I’m lonely.

  He wanted her to go to him tonight.

  But he’d returned to Bor Narga to find the woman with whom he’d formed an attachment at DNAmo.

  Puzzling that Lillian had simply disappeared. No one on Bor Narga could do anything without a string of records following them.

  And why had Justin been looking for her on the Vistara? His frequent trips there, despite all the warnings, made sense in the context of a continuous search for Lillian.