Justin

by Allyson James

  Deanna looked through records for the Vistara—for all of Bor Narga—and found no one named Lillian living on the Vistara or working for someone there.

  Lillian could have changed her name, but there should be a record of that too. Such a thing could be done secretly, of course, in theory. Perhaps Lillian had known someone who could help her disappear.

  But why? By all accounts, Lillian had been a hard worker, a decent student, and a law-abiding citizen who was fond of her parents. She’d never been arrested, warned, or even looked at by the patrollers.

  Deanna fanned out her search to cover the few years between Lillian quitting DNAmo to shortly after her parents’ deaths. She broadened the search to include any new person popping up from nowhere during that time, or any incident involving an unknown woman of the right age.

  Three deaths of unidentified persons had been recorded in that window of time, but two of those had been off-world human males and one an alien. It was unusual when even DNA couldn’t identify a body, but it was known to happen if off-world records were spotty.

  There were a few births with “mother unknown” attached, which Deanna at first ignored, until a date caught her attention.

  She’d seen a similar date somewhere on her search. After a moment’s thought, she keyed open Justin’s DNAmo records again.

  There it was, the date of Lillian’s transfer. No, it was not the same date as the birth—same day, same year, but different month.

  Deanna’s breath caught, her entire body squeezing until she thought she’d choke.

  Lillian Passan had finished her seven-day confinement experiment with Justin almost nine months to the day that a girl had been born to an anonymous mother in a backstreet clinic.

  It could mean nothing. Coincidence. Bor Narga had a large population, and many children had been born that day, even in backstreet clinics in Pas City.

  But only one had been born to an unknown woman of the same age as Lillian. A daughter. The girl who’d been born that day would now be about twenty-four years old.

  Deanna’s thoughts flashed back to Justin standing in the alley on the Vistara, gazing across the street with longing at the group of four young women in the coffeehouse. Each of the girls had been about that age.

  No. No. It was impossible. Shareem couldn’t father children. All the science in the DNAmo records said so. They were programmed not to, that programming backed up with sterility injections.

  But the evidence was there for anyone who wanted to take time to look and think.

  Justin had grown too fond of a test subject, Lillian had quit right after DNAmo removed her from Justin’s reach, and she’d gone home to live quietly with her parents. Justin had returned to Bor Narga after his lifemate passed. He went to the Vistara and continued going even when he knew such an action could get him terminated. He went there to stand and gaze across the street at a young woman in a coffeehouse.

  His daughter.

  Deanna sat back in her chair, closed her eyes, and pressed her hands to her face.

  *** *** ***

  Justin groaned. He was wet from his about fourth freezing shower but not cold—no one was ever cold on Bor Narga. He leaned, naked, against the wall in his living room, his hand around his needy cock.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about Deanna. She with that veil framing her face, her body moving under his on the seat of the car, the amazing taste of her.

  She’d said she’d think about coming back.

  Crap, she wasn’t coming back. Justin was dreaming to think she was. His trip to the baths hadn’t helped, and the cold shower he’d just finished in his own bathroom hadn’t helped either.

  The only thing that would help was Deanna.

  Next best thing—fantasizing about her while he stroked himself.

  Justin at least had the chance to use lube this time. His cock was slick under his fingers, the shaft hard and hot, the tip so sensitive a moan escaped him every time he touched it.

  He leaned his head on the wall and imagined Deanna’s smaller, softer hand gripping him, or better still, her red-lipped mouth closing around him, her tongue tickling the underside.

  Oh, yeah. That’s it, baby. Suck me. Harder. Harder. Pleeease!

  A faint buzzing tapped at his senses, but he could barely hear it over the roaring in his head. It sounded again, and then his door shot upward, sending in dying afternoon light, and Deanna herself.

  Chapter Eight

  Deanna wasn’t wearing the veil, Justin saw before the door slammed shut behind her.

  She stopped and stared at him, eyes widening as she took in his naked body, his cock sliding between his fist, his parted legs. Whatever she’d been about to say died on her lips.

  Justin smiled a little as he squeezed his hand harder around his cock.

  “Hey, sexy,” he said.

  Deanna’s mouth closed, but her gaze fell to his cock and stayed there. Justin stroked it again, opening his fingers to show her how hard he was for her.

  “Guess what I’m thinking about?” he asked.

  She swallowed. “Sex.”

  “You.” Justin skimmed his hand to the base of his cock again. “I was waiting for you, thinking about you and what I wanted to do to you. I was remembering your beautiful breast in my mouth. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” Deanna said. “I’m a patroller—”

  “I meant I shouldn’t have thought about it. Look what it did to me.”

  Justin squeezed himself again. Gods, she was gorgeous, with her bedroom eyes and her sultry body, even if her hair was scraped back again into that hard knot.

  He couldn’t think anymore. He could only see her, scent her pheromones, feel her desire all the way across the room.

  “Help me,” he said. “Please.”

  Deanna wet her lips, making them redder, and sending his fantasies soaring. “I don’t know how.”

  “Come here. I’ll show you.” Justin reached his free hand out for her, hoping he could stop himself from begging too hard. If he had to achieve the release by himself, he’d just get hard again. Shareem stamina was a bitch.

  Deanna walked to him. Sweet lady. Justin took her hand when she reached him, and carefully wrapped it around his cock.

  “Like this.” He kept his hand around hers and pulled them together down the shaft.

  He almost came right away. But no, his strength held it back, the science beaten into him letting him keep it hard for his lady.

  Deanna looked up at him as she glided her hand under his. Her eyes were so dark and beautiful he couldn’t stop the next groan. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her against him, and let go so she could stroke him alone.

  Deanna had a hard time catching her breath. Justin’s body against her side was strong, hard, and still wet from a shower. He leaned back against the wall, one fist clenched at his side, the other hand resting on Deanna’s waist. His cock in her hand felt . . . wonderful.

  The oil or whatever he’d put on it made it slick, so Deanna easily slid her hand up its length. The heat was incredible. His tip was a little bit softer than the rest, flesh giving beneath her fingers.

  Back and forth she took her hand, then once she became more confident, she started twisting and pulling. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to do that, she just did.

  Justin’s hips began to rock, which pushed his cock through her closed hand. The more she twisted and pulled, the faster he thrust.

  “That’s it,” he whispered. “Gods, Deanna, you are beautiful.”

  She’d never thought so. But he was beautiful. His naked male flesh was browned from working in the sun on Sirius, and the body she rested against was so hard with muscle she didn’t feel a slackness anywhere.

  His chest rose and fell with his swift breath, his lower abdomen shiny from where with the lubrication he’d put around his cock had smeared on his skin. The strength of him was amazing, but his large, work-worn hand on her waist was gentleness itself.
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  The friction from stroking him made Deanna’s palm hot, but she didn’t want to stop. She brushed her thumb over his tip, liking the slightly rubbery feel of it contrasted with his iron-hard shaft. She liked caressing beneath the tip as well, because that made him make more noises of pleasure.

  Justin’s strong fingers closed around her wrist. His head was back against the wall, eyes closed, lips parted in ecstasy.

  “I’m coming,” he whispered, then it became a throaty rumble. “Gods am I ever coming.”

  She felt the pulses begin, Justin’s body moving, and suddenly, his male seed jetted out all over her hand. Ropes of come snaked to the floor and his legs, Justin putting his clean hand over his face while he let out a heartfelt moan.

  Then it was over. Justin’s face went grim as he furrowed Deanna’s hair with firm fingers, pulled her head back, and kissed her.

  This kiss nowhere near matched the one of quiet hunger he’d given her in the car. His mouth was hard, his lips hot, tongue seeking, taking, punishing. Justin pushed her from the wall and a few steps across the room, until the backs of her knees connected with the sofa.

  Justin smiled a wide smile as he pushed her down to the couch, at the same time unfastening her coverall. The coverall came down, and then the silk under-leggings she wore beneath it. Justin wriggled coverall and leggings around until they were off, and all Deanna wore was her sleeveless tunic.

  Justin looped her knees over his arms, laid her back on the rather lumpy cushions, and knelt between her legs. He kissed the insides of her thighs with the same strong kisses before he lowered his head and fastened his mouth over her opening.

  Deanna let out a strangled gasp. She’d never felt anything like this before. His mouth was scalding, the friction of his tongue grating, his teeth scraping her tightening clit.

  She rocked her hips, as he had done, wanting to drive herself up and into his beautiful mouth.

  “Justin!”

  She couldn’t take it. Deanna squirmed and wriggled, but she couldn’t get away from his mouth, his tongue. And she didn’t want to.

  Justin wasn’t going anywhere. He licked and tasted her, drinking her spice, loving how wet she was for him. Her come flowed into his mouth, his lady opening up to a man for the first time. Justin knew it was her first time, her reaction telling him that she’d never felt the amazing wildness of orgasm.

  Her cries turned incoherent, and Justin smiled to himself as he suckled her swollen clit. The clit was pink and delectable, her pussy framed by soft but wiry dark hair. Some women shaved for their Shareem, but Justin liked the tickling feeling of Deanna’s hair as he drank.

  He licked his way around either side of her opening and then fastened his mouth to the wet folds and drank some more.

  Her echoing cries turned to whimpering moans, an inexperienced woman quickly finding her first explosion of passion.

  Justin could have feasted on her all night, but he eased back, licked her clean, and raised his head.

  “Aw damn,” he said, feeling himself grin as wide as his mouth could go. “Now I need another shower.”

  *** *** ***

  Showering with Deanna was good. Justin towed her inside in her silk undertunic, the rest of her clothes a pile on his sofa.

  The wet tunic came off, and she stood with him, naked, while water poured over her tight little body. She was a patroller, so she was strong, but her honed muscles made her slim and pretty, and the breasts that tightened in the water were full and round.

  So good to wash soap over her body, good to have her soap him in return. His shower wasn’t that big, but they managed, sliding against each other when they needed to move, laughing at the tight space. No complaint from Justin.

  He wanted to finish this, wanted to take her in a deep, satisfying fucking. But not yet.

  Justin wanted to learn her, to let her learn him. He wanted to teach her about pleasure, but he also wanted her to have fun.

  He thought of ways to play—maybe tie her hands then squirt her with whipped cream and honey and lick her clean. He might blindfold her, maybe, and then spank her and show her how much fun it was.

  Right now they were playing at soaping each other down. Again, no complaints.

  The slick soap let Justin glide his hands up and down her wet body, find the warmth beneath her bosom. He lifted the weight of her breasts and splayed his fingers over them, closing fingers around her nipples.

  She let her hands rove him in return, sliding over his backside, which she found fascinating, and around to his cock again. He’d teach her how to spank him too.

  Justin pressed her back against the smooth wall and kissed her. He liked that she was already learning to kiss him back, opening her lips without hesitation.

  “Justin, I need to talk to you.”

  Deanna’s voice was a whisper, she breathless from the kisses.

  Not now.

  She didn’t seem inclined to keep trying to talk. Justin kissed her again, hands sliding down her body to the join of her legs.

  “We need to make sure you’re clean,” he said, and she smiled.

  Regular soap could sting her sensitive pussy, especially when he’d made it swell, but Justin had special soap that would clean without hurt. He squirted it on his hand and put his hand between her legs.

  She widened her stance, and Justin leaned into her against the shower wall while he washed her. And damned if his fingers didn’t happen to slip inside her, to find the tight walls, to make her drag in a breath.

  He played there, two fingers only—Deanna was tight. He had some toys that would loosen her a bit and make her more pliant for harder play. But not right now. Now was for stroking, teasing, and teaching.

  Justin kissed her, the water trickling down his face, as he rubbed his thumb over her clit.

  When she came, his mouth was on hers, and he caught her cries on his tongue. She squirmed against him too, the stiff pole of his cock sandwiched between them.

  The little sweetie wrapped both hands around it and started to stroke. She learned fast. Before the last of her cries had died, Justin rested his forehead against the tile wall and came and came.

  They wound down together, letting the shower wash them clean, until Justin finally snapped off the water.

  Justin rubbed Deanna dry with the fluffy towel hanging outside the shower, not minding that there was only the one. He didn’t mind being damp while he wrapped Deanna in the towel’s folds and kissed her warm lips.

  “I did really come over to talk to you,” Deanna said when her mouth was free. Her voice was a throaty murmur.

  “Let’s talk later.” Justin said, rubbing a drop from the bridge of her nose. “I’m not in the mood to be serious.”

  Deanna watched him for a moment longer, eyes soft. “About Lillian,” she said.

  Chapter Nine

  The words connected with Justin’s brain after a few more rubs. He stopped, the towel pressed against her breasts.

  If she’d wanted to kill the mood, Deanna couldn’t have a done a better job. The heat in his body started to fade, his cock—finally—to deflate.

  “What?” he asked in a careful voice.

  “I know why you came back to Bor Narga,” Deanna said.

  Justin grabbed her, towel and all, and propelled her out of the bathroom and into his tiny bedroom. He half-lifted, half-tossed her onto the bed then climbed over her, the towel only thing between his dripping body and hers.

  “Tell me,” he said.

  “Lillian was K-48,” Deanna said, looking up at him without fear. “I read your files, and hers. You fell in love with each other and started a relationship. But that was against the rules, so they transferred her out of your section. Am I right?”

  “Yes.”

  Justin remembered the bleak day the researchers had told him that Lillian had been moved beyond his reach. He’d had to badger them before they’d even give him that much information.

  They’d taken away the only thing that had put
any warmth into Justin’s existence—seeing Lillian, whom he’d refused to call K-48. The admins at DNAmo had ripped her from him, leaving him alone and bereft, and they hadn’t cared.

  Justin hadn’t been able to do a damn thing about it. He’d raged at them until they’d subdued him with shocks and drugs, then he’d had to sit there, alone, and grieve. She’d told him about her pregnancy before she’d gone, so he’d worried about that as well.

  “You came back to Bor Narga to find her,” Deanna said.

  “Maybe.” The relief that Deanna hadn’t mentioned Sybellie relaxed him a little, but Justin knew he needed to remain cautious. “Does it matter? It was years ago. DNAmo is closed, all that shit over. Now Lillian is just someone I knew. I got to wondering what happened to her.”

  “So you left a decent life on Sirius to be restricted again on Bor Narga to find her?”

  Justin made himself shrug, though he knew she could feel his pounding heart. “Sure. My lover, Shela, died. I was lonely. I thought maybe I could hook up with Lillian again.”

  Deanna watched him with dark eyes that were full of . . . hurt? “You’re telling me that you traveled five light years back to a planet where you’re the equivalent of a prisoner on parole to find a woman you haven’t seen in twenty-some years? Because you wanted to ‘hook up?’”

  “Yes,” Justin said.

  “You are so full of bullshit.”

  Deanna struggled to get up, but Justin caught her wrists and held her down.

  “Maybe I found something better,” he said. “Like a pretty patroller who can’t keep her cute nose out of my business.”

  The hurt in her eyes returned, shoving aside the anger. “Like I said, Justin, you are full of bullshit.”

  “It’s not bullshit that I like you. That’s why I wanted you to come tonight. That’s why I dream about you with your stun gun full of whipped cream.”

  He nuzzled her, trying to let his voice go seductive. He was Shareem. He could charm her out of her anger, make her forget all about Lillian, make her stop wanting to dig deeper into his past.