His memories of his mother were faded images from a distant past. But he could still recall the iron will that had forced him to hone his body beyond all limitations. It had been her warrior spirit that had attracted the attention of his father.
His father had wanted his mother on first sight. He was a Gen 8 traveling with a band of renegades fleeing their Alliance-orchestrated demise on Earth. Assigned the serial number XA85621V at birth, his father had already been calling himself Xave by the time he reached the city of Tyra on Tristan in the Helix system.
He knew very little of his mother’s home, other than the stories she’d often told of fighting off the constant raids from Tristonian pirates. He didn’t know if his father had forced himself on his mother. His parents had spent a scant two weeks together before the renegades left Tyra. His mother hadn’t stayed long after that. She chose to wander the worlds, finding work on merchant ships headed to outlying planets. She’d drifted through two different systems, Xave at her side. Years later, when they entered the Lexicon system, she was murdered by a man who liked it a little rougher than she could handle.
Xave had killed her murderer and never looked back. Since then he’d been searching for the truth about his origins and for vindication for the lies that had been told about his father.
“You okay?”
Tavish’s hand on his arm accompanied her soft words. Xave shuddered, drawing himself away from the dark memories and locking them away in a place he tried never to revisit.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m ready whenever you are.”
Xave blinked. He’d been too preoccupied to notice her appearance at first, but now his gaze was riveted. Her long gown was made from shimmering black material that hugged every curve of her voluptuous body. A slit up the side showed every inch of her left leg from her ankle to the swell of her creamy thigh. The plunging neckline dipped into the hollow of her full breasts and the narrow straps showed off her slender shoulders. Her silky back was left bare, and the cut of the bodice gave him a glimpse of the tantalizing flesh of her ribs.
“Do you like it?”
“I’ll like it better when I take it off,” he growled.
She laughed, obviously delighted with his reaction. “That’s what we were going for.”
“Seriously? Because I’m going to kill every man that looks at you.”
She stepped closer, wrapping him in her unique perfume. “Don’t worry, Xave. My pussy has been too spoiled by your cock to purr for anyone else.”
He grunted. “Damn right.”
She rolled her eyes and turned. “Is the transit unit here, Heidi?”
“In a minute. Are you sure you had enough to eat?”
“Couldn’t manage another bite.”
“Heidi hired a private transit unit, Xave.”
“Good idea.” He shifted, trying not to show that Heidi’s frank perusal irritated him.
“You’d better take care of my Tavvy. You got that, you big lummox?”
Xave lifted his eyebrows.
“And no dumping her at the nearest brothel just because you got your man. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” Xave said.
“Heidi, please stop giving him hell.”
“Don’t you backtalk me, Tavish! I’ll tan your backside just like I used to.”
It amused Xave to see Tavish blush.
“And you! Don’t think I won’t tan yours, just because you’re a big man.”
Xave chuckled. “Calm down, woman. I’ve got it under control, all right? I will get a message to you as soon as Tavish is settled off world.”
“You had better.”
A chirrup outside alerted them to the transit unit’s approach.
“Good luck out there, Tavvy. Take care of yourself.”
“Thanks, Heidi.”
He tugged Tav’s arm as she squeezed Heidi close. It was past time for them to move. They would miss their window of opportunity if they dawdled much longer.
Xave opened Heidi’s back door and stepped outside. He drew in a deep breath, ears, nose, and eyes searching the perimeter for threats. When he was certain of their safety, he motioned to Tavish. She exited, placing each high-heeled foot with care on her way to the transit unit. Watching her climb inside, he marveled that she could stay upright in the dainty shoes.
It was warm and comfy inside the vehicle. Plush carpeting covered the floor, posh seats rimmed the perimeter, and the driving droid had closed the partition for privacy. He settled into a seat and put his pack beside him.
Her lips bowed into a teasing smile. “Is there something in your bag of tricks to make you look a little more presentable?”
Xave didn’t bother answering. He sorted through various items in his pack before choosing a thick silver ring and setting it aside. He had been given the image interrupter device when Warrick first hired him. The IID was part of Warrick’s own arsenal of special-ops gear. Once on Xave’s finger, it could disguise his appearance any way he wanted by pressing a button and projecting an image from his mind.
“You’re awful quiet, Xave.”
He lifted his gaze from his pack and watched her settle her supple body on a seat, snuggle back against the soft cushions, and kick off her shoes. She propped one bare foot on the seat and lifted her knee while letting the other relax. Her dress created a curtain, shielding her crotch from his view.
“What kind of underwear goes with a dress like that?”
Her grin turned mischievous. “What would make you think a girl like me wears underwear?”
He stifled a groan as his cock began to stir. “Show me your pussy.”
She drew back the drape of her skirt until Xave could see the pale juncture of her thighs and her hot cunt.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured, sliding forward onto his knees.
The vehicle was filled with the scent of her arousal and the fragrance of her juice. Her short curls hid nothing from his eyes. She spread her knees farther apart, and her plump lips drew away from her inner folds.
“Touch me, Xave,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “Make me come again.”
“What would you like me to touch you with?”
Her breath hitched, and her pupils dilated with apprehension when she realized what he intended to do.
He reached out and spread her folds. The plump hood of her clit stood up, begging for the attention it deserved. He leaned forward and ran his tongue from her anus to her clit in one long, agonizing sweep.
She whimpered, her hands fisting in his hair and pushing his face into her pussy. His chuckle vibrated across her aroused flesh, bringing another gasp and sending her hips bucking against his face.
Sucking her clitoris into his mouth, he nipped at the taut bud. She gasped before her slick flesh melted around him. Her clean, sweet taste carried a hint of his essence in it. A shot of male satisfaction caught him by surprise, and he realized that he’d already marked her as his own.
“Xave!”
She came unraveled beneath his mouth as he suckled and stabbed his tongue into her moist, hot center. Holding her folds apart, he slid two long fingers into her cunt and reveled at the feel of her pussy muscles gripping his flesh.
“Come, Tav, come for me. Give me a taste of your pleasure.”
She broke wide open, gasping as her body released a gush of cream into his waiting mouth. Her pussy clenched again and again, seeking his cock to fill the aching emptiness.
He became aware of her voice inside the close confines of the vehicle—her voice, broken with passion, calling his name over and over, and her body smelling of love.
Chapter Eleven
They couldn’t have been far away from the Persian Maiden. Tavish knew she ought to straighten her clothes and try to repair was left of her artful chignon. Instead she was content to lounge in the soft seat, legs open and pussy spread for Xave’s languorous touch.
He’d been petting and stroking her cunt since she’d come with his tongue in her pussy.
She could sense his arousal. But for the first time in her life, she was content to soak up the attention he seemed willing to lavish on her without worrying about reciprocation.
“You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”
“Think so?”
He growled and sent his fingers on another long stroke through her wet pussy that caused a tremor throughout her sated body.
“Mine,” he murmured. “This is my pussy.”
The intensity in his voice sent a faint ring of alarm through her mind.
He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “My pussy, my body, you’re all mine now.”
His lazy strokes increased, sliding over her engorged flesh and teasing her creamy opening.
“Don’t tease, Xave. A girl like me can take a limited number of orgasms before becoming a total addict.”
He fixed his pale eyes on her face. “How many men have given this pussy an orgasm?”
She gasped as he increased his pace and slid a single cream-coated finger into her anus. Could she tell him such a damning thing? How could she trust him with such a sensitive piece of information? It would be tantamount to declaring herself his property.
“How many?”
She swallowed and forced herself to breathe. “Just you.”
The revelation in his eyes made her belly clench in a way that had nothing to do with the cresting wave riding her to climax.
“And again,” he murmured.
Pressing farther into her anus, he slid three fingers into her pussy and rubbed a relentless rhythm on the thick pad of muscle between her two openings. Overwhelmed, Tavish bucked once before a shattering climax whipped through her body.
As she came down from her euphoric state, Xave pulled her dress back into place and tucked her into the curve of his body. His heat lulled her into a state of languid relaxation.
“I’m not sure what smells better, your arousal or the afterglow.”
“I didn’t know either one had a smell.”
“Most people don’t.”
“You mean you can actually smell that?”
He growled an affirmation and slid into silence.
Her brain whirled into action, piecing together the things she had already observed about Xave and forming a picture that bordered on terrifying. He wasn’t what he seemed. He seemed human, but he also had to be something else. Incredible hearing, sharp eyesight, and he could smell her moods?
“Xave?”
“Hmm?”
“Where did you say you were from?”
His body stiffened beneath her. “I didn’t.”
“Well, where are you from?”
“Why this sudden interest in my background?”
Tavish sucked in a breath and held it. She was dying to ask. She had to know what made him so different from everyone else. But the possibility that she wouldn’t like the answer loomed over her like a meteor cloud.
“C’mon, Tav, you reek of nerves.”
She reeked of nerves? How was that possible? “What are you, Xave?” she whispered.
“I grew up with my mother in the Helix system.”
That didn’t sound too bad.
“My father was bred on Earth.”
Bred? His father was bred on Earth?
“My father was a Generation 8 enhanced combat model. He met my mother when he and his unit drifted through the Helix system.”
The blood drained from her face. Xave’s heat at her back became extreme as her body temperature plummeted in response to his answer. She wanted him to be lying, to be wrong about his own origins.
“Tavish?”
She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. “That’s impossible. Cyborgs are like droids. They can’t reproduce. They don’t have babies!” Her tone escalated until her words echoed inside the close quarters of the transit unit.
She scooted away from him, settling herself near the door. How was this possible? How could someone who already seemed so much a part of her be like the heartless creatures that had destroyed her home and family? Blood roared in her ears, the pounding of her heart drowning out everything else. How could she have believed this man was different when he was far worse than the others?
She watched his face, waiting to see what he’d do next. Would her reaction anger him enough to loose the beast that must be hidden beneath his mask of calm? A moment passed, and she was surprised to see hurt flicker across his stoic face before the emotionless facade settled back into place and his uncanny blue eyes hardened to shards of ice.
“I’m not a cyborg. My father wasn’t a cyborg.” He eyed the ring in his hand. “Those cyborgs we saw earlier are like droids. The Alliance contractors used basic clone technology in the Gen 5 series. By Generation 6, they had added artificial intelligence, but the cyborgs still couldn’t function on their own. It wasn’t until after Gen 7 that they scrapped the idea of an organic machine and turned to reproductive technology. Cyborgs walked off an assembly line. The Gen 8 models were born in test tubes.”
“They’re still monsters, still machines!” She hated the fear in her voice but was powerless to hide it. “The Gen 8 models destroyed more colonies than all the rest put together. And they can’t reproduce!”
“You’re wrong, Tav.” He lifted his gaze, and the touch of his blue eyes on her body was almost too much. “The Alliance never told anyone the truth about the Gen 8 models. It would have caused too much controversy. Already the cyborgs suffered accusations of atrocities all across the systems. How could they admit that they’d created a new line of superhumanoid soldiers that they had no authority over?”
Tavish slammed her hands down on either side of her, making the seat quiver beneath her. “Accused? You think the cyborgs were accused of willful torture and murder and destruction of entire colonies? I was there, Xave! They did those things! They did them to me, to my family!”
His eyes softened, and he lifted his hand as if he wanted to reach out to her. She drew back, wanting nothing to do with this man who could not be a man. His big hand dropped and clenched into a tight fist.
“The cyborgs were ordered to kill innocents. That’s why the Gen 8 models broke away from the Alliance and rebelled. They were human enough to realize that wanton destruction of noncombatants is wrong.”
“Is that what your father told you?”
“I never knew my father. He stayed with my mother only long enough to conceive me.”
“So a monster raped your mother, and you’re justifying it?”
Xave’s gaze sent slivers of ice through her heart. “If that’s true, it’s proof positive he wasn’t a cyborg. Cyborgs are incapable of rape. They don’t possess the desire or the capability. Like you said, they can’t reproduce.”
It was too much to process. She breathed deeply, trying to find a thread of sense in this insane notion he had presented her. This man—this wonderful, unusual, not-like-any-other man, who’d given her endless orgasms—wasn’t human. How could this be? How could she have not noticed such an obvious defect?
“I’m human,” he insisted. “I carry a few genetic enhancements, courtesy of my father’s bioengineering, but I’m not a machine. I’m faster, process things a little quicker, hear better, have a more acute sense of smell, and I heal faster.”
“Do you die?”
A smirk twisted his mouth into the parody of a smile. “Are you planning to kill me?”
“As if I could,” Tavish whispered.
“I bleed and age like any other man.”
“Approaching the Persian Maiden, sir.”
The driving droid’s electronic voice shattered the tension inside the vehicle. He seemed to remember he had a job to do. At least she now understood his dogged desire to pursue his quarry. There was nothing more important to a machine than a list of priorities.
The garish green and blue lights of the upscale Persian Maiden Casino glittered against the orange-tinted sky of Janus 5. The white alloy structure vaulted countless stories into the air, and
the area on the ground teemed with service droids, security personnel, and patrons. She sucked in a deep breath.
What was she doing? She had no business pretending to be a bondsman. And for what? For Xave? For a man who wasn’t a man? For some hyped-up guy who kept trying to convince her he wasn’t a cyborg, that he wasn’t a machine, that he was some kind of strange, bioengineered superhuman? Xavier Kovuchenko was insane, and she was going to trust him with her life? What did that say about her sanity?
* * * * *
Xave pushed his doubts about Tavish to the far corner of his brain and shut down the emotional turmoil that threatened to destroy his mission. He was a bondsman, a professional. Mendez had the proof he’d scoured the systems for, and Mendez was here. He was so close. Whatever problems he had with Tavish would have to wait.
Grabbing on to an image in his head, he focused until he’d fleshed out the avatar in detail. He reached down and turned the crystal on his IID clockwise. Every cell in his body tingled. It wasn’t painful, just irritating. The holo image of an elegant businessman settled like a blanket over his enhanced senses.
He glanced at Tavish to gauge her reaction to this abrupt change in his appearance, but her attention remained focused out the window. A stab of regret lanced through his gut, and Xave had to tamp down the rise of emotion that once again threatened to overwhelm him.
It was nothing new. In fact, he should have expected it. In his younger years, before age and experience had taught him to keep details of his heritage private, Xave had gotten similar reactions from other people. But none of them were Tavish. None of them had been his perfect match, the one person in the universe who completed him.
He shook his head. The transit-unit door hissed open, and he stepped outside, looking to the right and the left. Casino patrons and staff crowded the entrance area. Security cyborgs stood sentinel at the entrance, arms folded before them. Xave clenched his teeth, noting their dead stares. How could she think he was anything like them?
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