Tiger of Talmare

by Nina Croft

  "Perhaps you should have thought of that before you shot me," she replied.

  "I didn't have time to do much thinking. Would you rather be dead?"

  At his words, a tremor of shock ran through her body. Suddenly, it came to her that he had saved her life, and what that meant. She could be dead now, would have been if not for Zach. "No, I wouldn't rather be dead." She paused. Could she do it? She took a deep breath. "Thank you."

  He grinned. "Was that so hard?"

  "Close on impossible. You know, I think I will have that lie down now, after all."

  She made to clamber onto the high bed but Zach stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Take your shirt off first."

  "What?"

  "Your shirt," he repeated. "Take it off. You're not going to need it."

  She glanced up into his face. His eyes had that sleepy, half-lidded look that sent a shiver rippling through her body. She shook herself. "You're not seriously suggesting we have sex just after I've been shot?"

  "Oh, yes I am. I've been as hard as a rock for the last two days, ever since you had your pretty little hands around me." He looked at her for a moment, before continuing. "Do you know how long it's been since I had a woman?"

  "Now how the hell would I know that?"

  "Well, it's been a bloody long time, and I'm not waiting any longer."

  "You're taking rather a lot for granted."

  "Am I?"

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  Chapter Seven

  Zach held his breath as he waited, trying to ignore the fact that his cock was rock hard, and his balls ached viciously. If he didn't get inside his little pirate soon he was going to go seriously insane.

  She was obviously thinking about it carefully, staring at the floor, chewing on her luscious lower lip.

  "Come on Mel..." he groaned.

  She raised her head and looked at him then her hand went to the top button of her shirt and slowly released it.

  A wild flare of excitement roared through his body. "Oh, thank you, God."

  She fumbled with the next button, and he reached out and placed his hand over hers.

  "Let me," he murmured, closing his fingers around her hand. "Hey, you're trembling. Not scared of a little bit of sex, are you?"

  It occurred to him as he spoke that she very well might be scared of sex. Who knew what she'd had to endure in three years in a brothel.

  "Of course not."

  He searched her face, but could read nothing from her expression. He finished unfastening the shirt. When it was done, he slid his hands inside, parted the material, and his palms glided up over her rib cage to cup her small pointed breasts. He was pleased to see her nipples were already tight buds. They hardened further, turning a deep, dark red as he stroked them with the pad of his thumb.

  Sliding his hands up to her shoulders, he pushed the shirt from her, tossed it on the floor.

  "You're beautiful," he said.

  "No, I'm not."

  "Don't argue."

  She was lean, no spare fat, with long, clean lines and small pert breasts. There was nothing "soft" about her, but his body reacted fiercely to the sight. He couldn't resist stroking one finger over her tight little nipples, watching the way her skin puckered under his touch.

  "Zach?"

  He tore his eyes from her breasts to her face. She still seemed nervous, and he frowned. "Hmm?"

  "I haven't done this in a while."

  "How long is a while?"

  She hesitated. "Ten years."

  He did the math. "So the last time was in the brothel and that doesn't count. How about before that?"

  She shook her head.

  "What, nobody? You were a virgin? Then that makes this your first time."

  "Hardly," Mel muttered.

  A wave of hatred rushed through him at the thought of the men who had put her in that place. And for the men who had paid and used her. He was glad she had killed one of them. He'd like to hunt down the rest and cut off their damn dicks himself. He smiled at the thought.

  "What?" she asked.

  "Just think I might be catching bad habits—or maybe good ones—from you, that's all. Never mind," he continued as she gave him a blank look. "Up you get."

  ****

  Mel climbed up on the bed and lay flat on her stomach, head to the side, cheek lying against the pillow and watched as he stripped for action.

  First, he peeled off the T-shirt. He had a superb chest, ridged with muscle and huge, powerful shoulders. She didn't have time to appreciate the sight fully because he was ripping off his pants.

  Her breath caught in her throat; he hadn't been lying. He was rock hard, thick and long, almost vertical against his lean belly, the head purple and swollen.

  He noticed her staring at him and grinned. "Told you so."

  Her lashes fluttered closed as his large hand stroked down the length of her back, grazing lightly over her buttocks, then pushing gently between her closed thighs. She heard his sigh of satisfaction as he found her already hot and wet for him.

  At that first touch, her whole body clenched in anticipation, and his other hand came around to rub her back, massaging the tense muscles.

  "Relax, kitten," he murmured. "Just let me do this for you."

  His hand moved between her legs, probing the saturated folds of her sex. One long finger slid inside, and her muscles clamped around it. He withdrew then glided higher, making lazy circles, avoiding the most sensitive spot, until she thought she would go mad for his touch. She raised herself up, opening her thighs wider, and not even the sound of his masculine chuckle could stop the instinctive movement.

  She turned her head to glare at him. Their gazes locked, and he touched her there, right where she needed it. Her whole world exploded. She collapsed onto the pillow, eyes tight shut, her breath coming in short sharp pants. Still, his fingers moved against her, and she came again, shuddering and jerking.

  "Stop," she moaned.

  Finally, his fingers went still. She lay unmoving, only the occasional ripple of pleasure shivering through her. At last, when the shudders died down to quiet tremors, she opened her eyes. He was so close, and he leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. A long, slow kiss of possession; his tongue gliding against hers.

  He straightened and took a step back, a grin on his face. "That was easy."

  Climbing onto the bed, he placed himself behind her, between her spread thighs. His hands rested on her hips, raising her up onto her knees, and she struggled feebly. "Can't," she mumbled, "I've no bones left, everything's turned to Jello."

  "Come on, kitten," he urged. "My turn now."

  His hands were insistent, and she allowed him to position her as he wanted. She was on her hands and knees in front of him, just as she had imagined. She should have felt vulnerable, but with a start of surprise, she realized that she trusted Zach. The thought made her turn her head and look at him over her shoulder.

  He was poised behind her, his expression intent, one hand on his cock. He saw her watching him and smiled. "Ready?" he asked.

  She nodded and turned away. A moment later, she felt the head of his cock probing the opening to her body, and with one fluid move, he filled her. She gasped, and he went still, waiting for her to grow accustomed to him.

  "Jesus, that feels sooo good," he murmured.

  It did, and she bucked against him, wanting more. One hand held her hip steady as he started to move; slowly at first, pulling out of her almost completely only to push back in. The sensation of his cock dragging against her sensitive flesh was exquisite, and she moaned softly.

  She sensed the tension radiating from him as he ruthlessly controlled his movements, and she pressed back against him. His other hand came around to touch her between the legs, lightly stroking over the tight little bud. She was still so sensitive that she came immediately, and she screamed.

  "Shh," he whispered, "or we'll have Leila coming in here to rescue you."

  She bit her lip, muffled her groa
ns in the pillow as he picked up speed, both hands on her hips now. He slammed into her harder and faster, sending shock waves of pleasure shooting through her until she felt his final thrust as he spilled himself inside her.

  For a moment, he was still. "Okay, that was a pretty good start. No doubt we'll get better with practice."

  "Can't do it again," Mel said. "I've died."

  Easing out of her with a groan, he collapsed on to the bed beside her.

  A long time later, Mel lay on her side, her body aching. Zach was beside her, lying on his stomach, head resting on his folded arms, eyes closed. She had managed to stir herself enough to do it again. And again. Now it was Zach who was exhausted.

  She reached out and trailed her fingers along his back, tracing the pattern of black and gold tiger stripes. They were beautiful. She looked back at his face to find his eyes open. He was watching her.

  "Does it bother you, that I'm not classified as human?" he asked.

  "No, why should it?" she replied. "With the exception of Darla, no-one on The Revenge is."

  "Well, I know about Leila, and Angie and Grace are pretty obvious."

  Mel grinned. "Yeah, we rescued them from an experimental space station. They're some sort of plant hybrid; they can even photosynthesis. It's cool."

  He was looking at her curiously. Obviously trying to work out just what it was that made her "not human".

  "So what about you?" he asked.

  "You mean it wasn't in 'my records'?"

  "I never picked it up."

  She twisted to show him the scar on her left shoulder where she had carved away the tattoo.

  His eyes widened. "You're a clone?"

  She nodded. "Born and bred in a lab."

  "So what happened?"

  "I left."

  He raised an eyebrow in query, clearly not satisfied with her answer. Why not tell him? He already knew the worst bits. "One day we had a visit from my Primary, that's what they called them in the lab, the originals who paid for us to be created. We weren't supposed to know what we were, but I overheard them talking, she was asking when could they do the operation, and I got curious. They were lax about security in that place so when she left, I sneaked out and looked at the records. I was eighteen. I wasn't ready to let my brain be discarded so some rich bitch could have my body.

  "Anyway, I waited until I had the opportunity, and I ran. Then I hunted her down and killed her. The problem was, I'd never been outside the lab before, so of course, they caught me pretty much straight away."

  "Was it worth it?"

  "At the time, I thought so." She grinned. "I made sure that bitch's brain was mush. No way was she putting that brain into any other body."

  "And now?"

  "Looking back, I guess I'm glad I did it. But ten years ago, chained to a cot in the space brothel, well, then I wasn't quite so sure. Maybe I shouldn't have killed her. Maybe I should have just run. But I wasn't the first of her clones, and I wouldn't have been the last. I felt I had to stop her."

  "I'd have done the same."

  They were silent for a moment. "So what happens now?" Zach asked.

  "With regards to what?"

  "With regards to what the hell we are going to do next. We need to go to the Agency, tell them about Sanderson."

  "I'm not going anywhere near the Agency."

  "Then we need to go after Sanderson ourselves."

  "You mean go to Talmare." She paused. "Er, what did you say he's got there, an army of over ten thousand, all trained killers? Let me think about this plan for a moment. No, I don't even need a moment. Are you completely insane?"

  "Right, so what do you think we should do?"

  "We should get the hell out of here and as far away from Sanderson as we possibly can."

  "And what about his plan to take over The Agency? They might not be perfect, but you've seen what Sanderson is like, the man's a psychopathic killer."

  She shrugged. "We could send them a message."

  "They won't listen."

  A flash of rage shot through her. "That's their loss." She glared at him. "Look, get it through your thick head, I am not going there."

  She breathed in deeply, trying to calm her fury. Maybe he deserved an explanation. "Up until ten years ago, I spent my whole life locked up, and I'm never giving anyone the chance to lock me up again. Okay?"

  He looked as though he was going to argue, then the tension went out of his shoulders, and he relaxed. "Okay, we'll think of something. But the other thing we need to talk about is Leila."

  "I know."

  "But first, I need food. I'll go to the galley and bring us some back. You stay here."

  "So long as it's not raspberry Jello."

  "I like raspberry Jello."

  Mel didn't bother getting up as he left. She felt totally drained, and her arse was beginning to smart as the local anesthetic wore off. She'd ask Zach to give her another zap when he got back.

  But when the door slid open, ten minutes later, Zach wasn't alone, and she knew straight away that something was wrong.

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  Chapter Eight

  Zach's appearance was grim. Darla stood beside him, her face streaked with tears. Angie and Grace crowded in behind, their expressions identical masks of anguish.

  Mel swallowed. It was obvious something bad had happened, but what? Leila wasn't with them.

  "Where's Leila?" she forced herself to ask.

  Darla answered. "She's gone."

  Mel sat up quickly, biting back a cry of pain as she sat on the burns. She winced, then slowly stood up, dragging the sheet with her. "Gone where? When?"

  "She left a note."

  Darla handed Mel a crumpled piece of paper.

  Don't come after me.

  Leila

  "Very informative," Mel said. "How did she go?"

  "Took one of the pods."

  "Do we know when?"

  "Yeah, the pod was launched four hours ago. She's got a good head start."

  "And we've been going in the opposite direction all that time."

  Darla frowned. "How do you know which way she's gone?"

  "Because she's gone after Sanderson," Zach said.

  Darla looked mystified, and Mel realized that they hadn't told the rest of the crew of Leila's connection with Talmare.

  "I'll explain later," she said. "But Zach's right. She must have gone after Sanderson. Christ! What a mess." She ran a hand through her hair.

  "We only realized she wasn't here when Zach appeared and asked where she was. We were all in the galley, having a celebration drink. We hadn't even thought about Leila. I found the note in her room."

  "We have to go after her," Mel said.

  Zach frowned. "You realize she'll have reached Talmare by now?"

  Mel nodded.

  "So what do you think she plans to do?" he asked.

  "Well, that's the interesting thing about Leila, she doesn't plan, and she doesn't think, she just jumps right in." Mel turned to Darla. "Have you tried to contact her?"

  "She left her comm unit in her room, and I haven't been able to get an answer from the pod."

  "Well, try again. And reset our course. We're heading for Talmare."

  She watched as Darla trailed out followed by Angie and Grace leaving her alone with Zach. "I should have guessed Leila would do this," she said.

  "Hey, she's the telepathic one."

  "She's my friend. If I'd thought about it at all, I'd have known she wouldn't let Sanderson go. But I was too busy with you to think about anything else."

  Zach came across to her. He put his arms around her and pulled her to him. Her head nestled in the curve of his neck, and she breathed in the now familiar scent.

  "She's a grown woman," he said. "You're not responsible."

  For a moment, she relaxed against him, then she shrugged him off and stepped back, though his arms still held her loosely. "You don't understand. You never saw her when she first arrived at the brothel.
She was only fifteen, so small and sweet and obviously terrified, but you could still sense the goodness in her. The thing was, she always seemed to attract a certain sort of man, and I don't mean the protective type. The telepathy didn't help—she knew what they were thinking, and they slowly broke her down. After a year in that place all that was left was hatred." She blinked back a tear. "We have to get her back, Zach."