Sky Hunter

by Fae Sutherland

  Instead of pushing him away, Jeret curled his fingers into the material of Dagan’s jacket and yanked him closer, taking control of the kiss.

  “You have a lot of balls,” Jeret snapped. “Is this in your ‘code’ when it comes to proper behavior with your betters?”

  Dagan slid his hand down to cup his ass. He ought to punch the bounty hunter like he had earlier, but resisted the urge. Let Dagan think he was getting what he wanted—Jeret was going to give him a lesson in not counting your damn chickens. Fuck. And maybe Dagan’s kisses felt good. Maybe Jeret wouldn’t mind getting a little action while he taught that lesson. Wasn’t like he had much opportunity on this boat.

  “I thought you weren’t the prince anymore. In which case you’re every bit as common as me. Or do you deny your heritage only when it suits you?”

  “So tell me, Dagan. If your job here is to protect me, who’s going to protect me from you?”

  “I like how you avoid the question. You think you need protection from me?”

  Jeret hesitated, his expression serious for a moment. “I don’t know. Do I?” He was pretty sure he did. Or would, if he weren’t perfectly capable of taking care of himself, a fact Dagan had never really grasped.

  “I don’t know, Highness. Maybe.” There was a long moment of silence, their gazes locked, unspoken words filling the air between them. Should I? Probably not. Kiss me. Don’t. Let go. Don’t you dare. They’d always bickered, but the stakes of this spat were higher than ever before.

  He didn’t wait for Dagan to take the matter out of his hands and shook aside all the questions and uncertainties, as he slid his hands up into Dagan’s hair and yanked him down for a kiss. And what a fucking kiss.

  If Dagan was expecting a fight, he wasn’t going to get one. Why should he? Jeret had every right to fuck, suck, kiss or not kiss whomever he saw fit. Right this second, he wanted to drive Dagan more than a little mad. And later, when it ended far short of whatever finish line the bounty hunter had in mind, it’d be him walking away having made a point. He didn’t need a fucking keeper and he wasn’t going to crumble and fall at the son of a bitch’s feet.

  Dagan slid his arm around Jeret’s waist, hauling him up out of the chair. Jeret groaned, heart racing at the absolutely decadent feelings that swamped him as Dagan did what Dagan did best—took control. Jeret reached blindly behind him for the door panel on the wall, grateful when he heard it slide shut with a soft whoosh. His arms wound around Dagan’s neck, he stretched up on tiptoes. He couldn’t seem to stop the hungry sounds coming from him that elicited shudders he could feel down Dagan’s spine. Knowing he was having that kind of a physical effect on Dagan was a heady rush and he threw himself into the kiss, determined to get more than just shudders from him before it was all over.

  Jeret groaned in annoyance when Dagan suddenly broke the kiss, but then realized the other man was looking for somewhere to stretch them out. He waved toward the padded bench on the other side of the room.

  “Fuck, yeah that’ll do,” Dagan muttered.

  It took everything Jeret had to not snicker when Dagan’s knees nearly buckled as he nipped at his throat, but Dagan made it there and tumbled them both back onto the bench. Immediately, Jeret began shoving at his chest. Dagan stilled, panting, and frowned down at him. Jeret rolled his eyes.

  “Get off, you big ox. Jesus.” He smacked Dagan’s shoulder.

  Time to up the ante.

  * * *

  Dagan’s cock protested, but like hell was he going to push Jadi further than he wanted to go, so he eased back, panting hard. “A moment, Highness.”

  Jadi rolled his eyes. “I don’t want you to stop, Dagan. I want to be on top.”

  Dagan was very, very glad he wasn’t standing when Jadi made that pronouncement. “Oh,” he said, rather dumbly.

  Jadi snorted with laughter and shoved his chest again. “Get off.”

  Dagan did, kneeling up to let Jadi wriggle out from under him and then stretched out on his back. A second later Jadi had climbed on to him, hugging Dagan’s hips with slender thighs.

  “Much better. You’d squash me.”

  That was true. Jadi might be a grown man, but he was still a small one. But now the heat of the moment had faded and Dagan began to question whether this was a good idea. He should stop.

  Jadi clearly didn’t agree though, dark curls tumbling around his face, eyes mischievous and as wicked as the little smile that curved his kiss-swollen lips. He rolled his hips. “You have no idea how many times I imagined this. You’re bigger than I remember.”

  Dagan nearly choked as Jadi rolled his hips again. “You were a child.”

  “Please. Are you telling me you never thought about older men when you were that age? I was young but I was still human, Dagan. And you were—” His voice was wistful as he stroked one hand down the center of Dagan’s chest. “You were a god. And Christ, if you ever repeat that I will slit your throat.”

  Dagan laughed, hands sliding up Jadi’s thighs, the material of his pants thin and worn, allowing the heat of the boy’s skin to work through and tantalize. “That’s exactly what a man likes to hear in bed, Jadi.” Jadi’s eyes narrowed and Dagan knew why. “I won’t call you that false name, Jadikira. Not now.” It wasn’t who he was, and Dagan didn’t want to touch some self-construct. He wanted to touch the man.

  Jadi hesitated and Dagan held his breath, more than half expecting to find his arms—and his lap—empty.

  Instead, the prince finally relaxed. “Not a word about that, either, then.”

  Dagan let out a breath, lips twitching. “Not a whisper.” He slid his hands up Jadi’s sides to curl one at his nape and draw the other man down. “You still talk too much, Highness.” His breath fanned against Jadi’s lips and an instant later he was rewarded with another torrid kiss that sent the entire world reeling around them.

  When the kiss broke, their eyes locked, faces so close together he could see the faint gold flecks in Jadi’s eyes.

  “This doesn’t change anything.”

  He didn’t know if Jadi meant between them, or in terms of returning home for good, or what exactly, but it didn’t matter. “I never for a second thought it did, Highness.”

  Jadi looked for a second like he was going to clock Dagan for using the honorific, but instead kissed him again, apparently deciding the pleasure was worth more than another spat. Thank God, because Dagan didn’t want to fight. He wanted to touch Jadi, taste him, hell, whatever Jadi would allow, Dagan would revel in.

  It was a strange feeling, to be holding Jadi, touching him like this—forbidden and yet it had been so many years since he’d felt a sense of real right or wrong that the sense of doing something he shouldn’t was practically foreign. He’d forgotten just how good it felt to be bad.

  Well, if he was going to be bad, then goddamn, he was going to be really bad. He slid his hands from Jadi’s hips up under his clingy, worn shirt, fingers skimming bare, warm flesh. The touch sent shivers through them both and Jadi broke the kiss, panting as their eyes met. For a second it seemed as though Jadi might push him away, change his mind, but instead he sat up slowly, still straddling Dagan’s thighs, and caught the hem of his shirt, peeling it up and over his head.

  Dagan forgot how to breathe as the scrap of fabric fell silently to the floor.

  Jadi was still skinny, but now it was counteracted with long, wiry muscles, ridges of hard flesh cut and etched from his abdomen and chest and long arms. He had a faint dusting of dark hair down below his belly button and around his nipples, which were as small and brown as the rest of him, like he’d spent a lot of time in the sun without a shirt. Dagan’s mouth watered at the vision.

  “Quit staring.”

  Dagan laughed, sliding his hands up Jadi’s lean sides. “Stop being so gorgeous and maybe I will.”

  “Wh
at do you see?”

  The question caught him off guard and Dagan frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Jadi held his arms out. “When you look at me, Dagan, what do you see?”

  “I don’t know.” He let out a frustrated breath when the other man didn’t move, just kept looking down at him expectantly. “You’re Jadi. My prince. I don’t know what answer you want. I see Jadikira, Hadrian’s prince, all grown up now—a man.”

  Apparently that was the right answer, because Jadi stopped glaring at him suspiciously and instead leaned down over him, hands braced on the narrow bench. His lips hovered so close that Dagan could almost taste them before Jadi spoke. “You’re right in one area. I am all grown up. And I’m not going to sleep with you.”

  Okay, maybe not the right answer after all. “No?”

  Jadi gave him a sly little smile. “No. I don’t fuck men who want to subjugate me. Talk to me when you’re ready to admit I’m a human being, not a title with no right to my own life just because my father happens to be a king.”

  Then he shimmied off Dagan, took a couple of steps back and then pointed to the door. “Get out.”

  Dagan sat up, trying his best to ignore his very, very unhappy cock. “That’s it?”

  Jadi’s look was scathing. “What, you think I owe you a quick hand job or something? You’re all worked up. That’s my problem how, exactly?”

  Oh, the little shit. Dagan shoved to his feet, grimacing at the tightness of his pants. “Still the spoiled little prince, I see.”

  “Still the lockstep soldier drone, I see.” Jadi sneered. “I’m sure you and your right hand will be very happy together tonight.”

  Dagan’s jaw locked in visible anger. “I was wrong. I don’t see my prince at all. My prince doesn’t treat people like they have no value. Sorry, Highness, the price for this little tryst is too high.” Because what Jadi wanted was for Dagan to give up his job, to give up his chance to have his life and a future back, for what? A tumble? A bit of fun?

  Not a chance. Jadi would be gone again before Dagan knew what hit him, like some mist and shadow creature disappearing the instant Dagan thought he had a grip. Not this time. Jadi wasn’t slipping away and leaving him holding the fucking bag. He brushed past the prince, slapping the door panel to slide it open. Then he paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

  “Don’t try to run, Jadikira. I will find you. And next time I’ll kill your friends if I have to, to bring you back home.”

  * * *

  Jeret’s hands shook a little as he reached out and shut the door behind Dagan. As soon as he was alone, he sagged, leaning against the wall and then sitting heavily on the bench they’d occupied just moments before.

  It wasn’t the threat that had him so shaken. He knew Dagan was serious, and also knew the only thing stopping the bounty hunter from taking that path was that while it might be the one of least resistance, it wasn’t a path that best served Dagan’s all-important honor and duty. It was more than a little ironic that Dagan would go to so much trouble to make sure Jeret lived, while not seeming to give one good goddamn whether he lived well.

  Well, Dagan might not care about that, but Jeret did. And he wasn’t going to let one man’s need to assuage his bruised pride and ‘code’ force him back into the gilded cage of his past life.

  And if Dagan thought Jeret wouldn’t kill for that, then he was sorely mistaken.

  Chapter Five

  “Alright, look, I got you a way into Shengo’s system. I don’t know how much good it’ll do, because the guy’s got layers upon layers of security and I have no way of knowing if I broke through them all. But this will at least let you take a peek, see what you can see and get out undetected.” Jeret handed Torin the porta-drive. “When you’re docked to deliver, just slip that into any of Annie’s ports and see what she tells you. Then get the hell out.”

  Torin pocketed the drive and gave him a look. “I’ve done this once or twice, Jeret. We’ll be fine. My concern is you two.”

  Dagan’s expression didn’t so much as twitch where he leaned against the wall. “I’ve done this once or twice. We’ll be fine.”

  Jeret snickered. “He’s an ass, but he’s also right. Don’t worry. I know this planet like the back of my hand.”

  “Yeah, but it ain’t getting lost we’re particularly concerned about.” Rain glanced between Dagan and Jeret. “From what your friend says, kiddo, you’re kind of well-known. How exactly do you plan to do any kind of recon work walking around looking like, well, you?”

  Dagan pushed away from the wall. “Trust me, the only way anyone is going to know who Jadi is will be if he tells them himself. Even then they might ask for some DNA.”

  Jeret glared at him. “What he means is I don’t look the same. I was fifteen when I left and only the inner circle of the royal court would recognize me. Family, basically. The average citizen would A) not remember what I looked like, and B) even if they did remember my face, they would never attach it to...well, to me. Who I am now.”

  “In other words, you’re too common to be mistaken for yourself.” Dagan smirked. “Your father is going to be so proud, Jadikira.”

  Ever since the night before, Dagan had stopped even trying to remember to use his preferred name. Probably just to piss him off. Jerk.

  “Good thing I’m not going there to please my father. I’m planning to save the damn planet from a, you know, traitorous usurper, isn’t that enough?”

  Dagan looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Traitorous usurper. I guess you do recall at least some of your education.”

  “Have I mentioned I hate you?” Jeret snapped.

  Torin interrupted with a wave of his hand. “Enough bickering. That takes care of Jeret being recognized, but what about you, Dagan? Weren’t you pretty well-known there as well?”

  “The only ones who’d recognize me are others of the guard. Since we plan to avoid them at all costs, it won’t be a problem.” His expression pretty much dared Torin to question him. Torin stared right back, with that implacable ‘This is my ship and I can throw you out the cargo bay door if I want to’ look on his face.

  Rain cleared his throat abruptly, breaking the stare down. “Okeydokey, then. You kids have fun, we’ve got to get out of here. Try not to kill each other before we get back, huh?”

  Torin tossed Jeret’s bag at him. “Kill him if he tries anything.” To Dagan, he directed a sharp-eyed look. “I’ll kill you if he doesn’t, bounty hunter. Clear?”

  Dagan didn’t say anything, just nodded once and then turned to stride down the ramp leading off the ship. Jeret sighed and slung his bag over his shoulder, pausing to run a hand down the cargo bay wall. “Take care of ’em, Annie. Don’t go letting anything break these two tech half-wits can’t handle, okay?” He gave Torin and Rain a small smile, then followed Dagan down the ramp. It was the first time in a long time where leaving Annie felt a little like saying goodbye, just because he didn’t really know when he’d be back where he belonged, inside her.

  “Let’s go.” Dagan didn’t seem in the least sympathetic to his separation anxiety. Unsurprising, considering the man was the equivalent of a mostly evolved ape at the best of times.

  This was going to be so much fun. Except, you know, not at all. Not even a little.

  Dagan’s ship was even smaller than Annie, but much, much more advanced. Sleeker, faster, no wonder it’d taken him no time at all to catch them. Black as night and with curves a woman would envy, the ship must slice through the In-Between like a knife, some kind of fast-moving shadow. It was a little like cheating on Annie, standing there admiring the other ship.

  “What’s her name?” he asked. The name of a man’s ship said a lot about him. Knowing Dagan, he’d named it something like Honor or Duty, because it seemed like those things were all he cared about.

&nb
sp; Dagan hesitated, jaw clenching visibly. Finally, he met Jeret’s eyes. “Little Bird.” Then he jerked his head toward the ship. “Enough standing around jabbering, let’s go.” And he strode up the short ramp on to the ship.

  Jeret blinked, staring after him, gaze wandering over the ship and seeing her in a new light. Years ago, when Dagan had first been assigned as captain of Jeret’s personal protectorate guard, he’d asked Jeret why he fought his father so much. Jeret had told him he felt like a bird in a cage and Dagan had smiled and called him little bird. And had every day after.

  What did it mean that Dagan had given his ship that name? Was it to remind himself of his greatest failure, some sort of masochistic self-flagellation? Or was it something else? A reminder of their friendship, of Jeret himself?

  The man was a mystery. A mystery wrapped in attitude and dipped in a serving of ‘fuck off and die’. Jeret followed Dagan on board the ship. Whatever the case, one thing was clear—Dagan had changed. He wasn’t the same man he’d been six years ago and Jeret didn’t know if he liked that, or who Dagan had become.

  Of course, he was the pot if Dagan was the kettle, because who had changed more than himself?

  “Lock that bay door!” Dagan barked. “You get the five credit tour once we’re in the air. For now, park your ass somewhere, Highness, because we’re off this rock in five.”

  Jeret tossed his bag down against the wall and grabbed the only other seat in the main area, which encompassed the controls, the microscopic cargo/storage area and what appeared to be the world’s tiniest galley. There was a short hall leading back to the right, which Jeret assumed led to the cabins and the head, another to the left that must go to the engine room. “Pretty sure I just gave myself the tour, thanks.” He buckled in as Dagan fired up the engines.

  Smooth and sleek, just like the rest of her, the engines were a seductive purr. If Annie was a saloon girl with a smoke and whiskey-rough voice, Little Bird was a proper lady, all resonant tones and a voice that was never off-key. He missed Annie and that made him feel less like an unfaithful husband or something. Annie was his only girl.