Chapter Twelve
Nose pressed to the glass wall of the solarium, Mary peered into the beautiful, lush green birdcage and sighed. She wished to taste the crystalline water, smell it mixed with the thick, emerald foliage, hear the brightly plumed birds squawk and flutter their wings. What would the air taste like in there? She imagined it would be rich and thick, wholly unlike the forest of Taiga. On the other side of this prison was a glass-encased tropical paradise, hot and moist.
She tugged her pants away from the V of her thighs.
Speaking of hot and moist.
When she awoke this morning, she discovered her homespun pants and shirt, along with her cotton underclothes, neatly folded, stitched and clean, waiting for her at the foot of her bed. A small victory, but she went through her morning ritual with nothing but Commander on her mind.
Trying to distract herself with thoughts of everything from quadratic equations to the particulars of Universal grammar, she couldn’t even summon the sour puss of Mrs. Roth to stop her one-track mind.
Commander. Hard. Pressed right up against where she was all hot and moist. Every swing of her legs rubbed the cotton of her panties against that heat.
She pulled her pants away, tried readjusting her panties, and then gave up when she only excited herself further. If she’d ignored the cameras in her room, she could have dealt with this problem last night, but she hadn’t dared. House confirmed a camera in her bedroom. If she would have slipped her hand below the covers to attend herself, he could have watched.
Somehow, the thought of Commander watching only excited her more, but in the end, she’d fallen asleep curled on her side. Deep in the night, vivid dreams of Overlord wearing Commander’s face as his wide body thrust into hers catapulted her to the edge of climax. Her trembling body woke her, and she peered around the room with guilty eyes as her hand nestled between her drenched and unfulfilled thighs. She would have killed for sixty seconds of privacy. Hell, three seconds would have been enough.
With sharp clarity, the mirror above her bed made perfect sense. It was so she could watch him. Watch every thrust of his hips as he rocked between her legs.
A cold shower didn’t help. She dressed and left her room. Given her druthers, she would have gone for a long, hard run on a rocky forest path until her body collapsed, exhausted. Then, she would have dragged herself over and jumped into Ice Lake. If that hadn’t quashed the erotic thoughts, she would have gladly drowned herself.
Nothing on her own planet had ever compelled her as Commander did. One kiss and she’d forgotten all her goals. Like a blithering idiot, she’d been subject to the whims of her body. Such a rush compelled her to twine her body to his and everything else became pointless, futile. All she wanted in that moment was more of him.
She closed her eyes. As surely as he owned the luxury around her, he owned her life and her body as well. Commander could shoot her, drug her, torture her, do whatever he pleased, but he hadn’t.
Well, there was that idea of torture.
At first, she’d imagined herself languishing in a cell, with red-hot pokers and such. She had no idea his version of torture would involve a dark submissive bent in her own nature.
Torture. Yeah-huh. A great big load of hard, hot male pressed against her welcoming body was torture. And he knew it. He had to know it. She’d been so wet she couldn’t believe her pants didn’t slide off her hips of their own accord.
If he’d demanded, right then and there, her reason for liberating his goods, or any other secret she possessed, she might have screamed it from the top of her lungs without a second thought in her charged-up brain. She might have confessed to every real or imagined darkness in her soul. Anything. Everything.
To make him stop or continue?
With a frown, she tugged at her creeping panties again.
Had she stayed in the dojo, he would have taken her, her consent or not. They both knew that her consent was a foregone conclusion. He had it, and he knew it, but he let her go. He stood hard and frustrated as he watched her run away, and she didn’t know why. How could she face him again?
“You want to go outside.”
She whirled around.
Commander stood on the threshold of the solarium. Red silk, black leather, big bare feet. Crisp and bold. He didn’t smile but appraised her with an auctioneer’s critical eye.
“Yeah-huh. I want to go outside.” Triumphant at wearing her own clothes, she plopped herself into a chair at the table, plucked up her napkin and dropped it to her lap. “Not like you’d let me.”
Play it cool, or at least vaguely pissed off.
“Indeed.” He poured his body into his chair like a slow drop of maple in winter.
Deceptively sexy.
She looked away so fast she managed to scoot her chair out from under her own fanny and thumped to the floor, right at his large bare feet. Mortified, she moaned a string of expletives as she leapt up and kicked her chair into the wall of glass.
Unbelievably, the glass didn’t shatter into a billion shards. Like a drum skin, the windows bounced her chair back at her, knocking her down. All the while, he got a ringside seat.
As she lay again on the floor at his feet for a second time, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Flexiglass.
“Damn it to the vast reaches of hell!” She shoved her chair away and brushed herself off as she stood, blushing furiously.
Danger. Her eyes riveted to her wrist. Baka. Kicking her chair into the glass went beyond aggressive. Why hadn’t her locator, locker and luller injected her with Baka?
As if he read her thoughts, Commander calmly said, “I cancelled the order yesterday, remember?” He nodded to the chair at his left.
She went to his right, yanked the chair back, flipped it around, sat and looped her arms over the back. “That’s right. Lucky me. I’m still alive, when by all accounts I should be dead. Or rather, screaming insane in my own mind by Baka.”
“By my account, you should be exhausted from a wild night in my bed.” He flipped his napkin onto his lap.
She raised her eyebrows at his bold proclamation. “You mean like all the others. Is that why you got so pissed off yesterday? Because I didn’t toss up my pretty dress like the rest?”
“You wanted to.” With deliberate disdain, he filled his coffee cup. “And, technically, you did.”
“I did not!” Then she remembered that she’d taken off her dress to put on the white gi. “You know what I mean.”
He grinned and leaned near, sniffing her with a twitchy wolfish nose. “Fear and desire, Mary. Your most potent perfume.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You son of a bitch.” She spaced the words out with a blistering appraisal.
“First a bastard, then a devil, now you claim I’m the son of a bitch.” He laughed as he swirled cream and sugar into his coffee. “You do have parenthood issues.”
His pointed jab wouldn’t sidetrack her from her discovery, and she spat, “You’re a reader.”
“Indeed.” At her drop-jaw expression, he winked and took a sip of his steaming coffee. “Why argue the obvious?” He leaned close, sniffing deep. “I call myself an emotichemical perceptionist. I read pheromones.”
Feeling so exposed that no amount of clothes could ever conceal her, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You read scents.”
“Yes.”
“Like an insect,” she said insultingly.
“Indeed,” he admitted with a teeth-clenched snarl.
She found herself rendered speechless but didn’t know if she was more embarrassed or furious. He’d tricked her like all the folks in Pine Glenn. The tentative bonds of friendship they forged snapped back hard enough to sting her face. She felt played for a fool.
Leaning close, he took a breath with closed eyes and murmured, “Your desire is a citrus path through a field suffuse with wildflowers. Your fear is earthy dark, a compost of many things.”
Her eyebrows again climbed as she fought down the urge t
o move back. She had no idea how deeply he could read her, but she would show no fear. Rather than retreat, she moved closer. “So all this time you’ve just been playing with me?”
“No.” He shook his head and leaned near enough that his warm breath caressed her mouth. “All this time I’ve been trying to figure out how to play with you.”
Itching to slap the arrogance off his face, she curled her fingers around the back of the chair.
“House, reinstate Baka, Mary, 201484, confirm.”
“Baka injection, Mary, reinstated, by order of Commander.”
She looked at her wrist. Baka controlled her beyond any physical threat. If she’d been thinking clearly last night, she would have tried to escape when the odds against her had been significantly lower.
Commander stood and pulled her with him.
“Even at your very best, you could not fight me off if I were of a mind to have you, active bracelet or not.”
“You wouldn’t.” She looked up into his determined face.
“You know this for a fact because…” His wicked gaze held her captive even more than his hands on her arms.
“Because…” She trailed off when nothing came to mind. She couldn’t think of one reason to prevent him from doing whatever he pleased and, damn it all to hell, but the idea of being at his mercy excited her. Desperate to find a valid excuse, she remembered his promise not to steal from her. “You wouldn’t take me against my will since it’s a lot more of a power trip for you if I give in.”
His eyes lit up as if a flash grenade had gone off in his skull.
Bingo!
“And you say I’m transparent.” She laughed in his face until he pressed her against the wall of flexiglass with three long, pressing strides. Birds squawked away from the edge.
“A whole day without food, locked in your bathroom like a trembling coward, you emerge ready and willing to fight once again.” It sounded like a question, but the answer simmered in his knowing eyes.
She lowered her gaze. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“I don’t want to fight with you, either.” He tilted her face up and held his mouth so close she could taste his breath.
Melting into his embrace, she longed to lift her lips the fraction he demanded for contact but vowed not to move. Even if desire killed her, she’d keep her lips to herself.
“Let me go and I’ll repay the damage I’ve caused.” She turned her head, desperate to get away from his imposing presence by offering to negotiate damages.
“You think you can buy your way out of this?” He turned her face to his. “Isn’t that what you accused me of doing? Buying my way out of a predicament by attempting to buy your honor like a spoiled rich boy?”
Caught, she fumbled for an answer. “I thought if I restored you to—”
“You did not.” He captured her face with both his huge hands. “You thought I’d forget about how hot and wet you were in the dojo if you distracted me with an offer of script.”
Proving his point, he pressed close and rocked his erection against her belly. She tried to pull back, but he had her up against the wall, and she could go no farther.
“You don’t know the half of the Mils I’d pay for one long, languorous lunge between your legs.”
Her jaw damn near hit the floor. “You—you—” she sputtered, pushing at him. “Do you think you can buy me? Christ! Do you think I’m a whore?”
He pressed the promise behind his leather against the thin, battered fabric of her homespun. His erection slid against her when he laughed. “I don’t think you’re a whore. I think you’re as wet as I am hard.” He kissed her in a slow nibble, and his tongue probed against her lips until she reluctantly opened them.
She’d kept her vow not to kiss him for a grand total of thirty seconds.
Pulling back a fraction, he whispered against her mouth, “We could soothe this ache, Mary. I promise, you’ll enjoy every moment.”
“You arrogant bastard.” Her lips throbbed with his kiss as she spoke, but she knew he was right. She’d enjoy the hell out of his unique form of torture.
He lowered his voice to a rumbling growl. “You want me inside you.” He caught her gaze. “You want to wrap your legs around me and squeeze. You want to toss your head back and howl with a mad, delicious pleasure as I work my body in and out, thrusting hard—”
“Stop!”
He ignored her protest, breathing insinuation across her heated skin. “You want me to bite your neck, like this.”
He bit her, and she uttered a screaming gasp as she entwined her fingers in his short, silky hair.
“You want my big hands to grab your ass, good and hard. Like this.” He lifted her up to anchor her against the wall, parting her legs with effortless efficiency. “You want to wrap your body around mine.”
Unable to stop herself from obeying him, she melted into him at his whispered command. “You want me to hold you as I plunge my cock into your sweet, grasping heat.” Stroking himself against her, he groaned, low and deep from his chest. “You want me to fill you, to—”
“Please stop.” She pulled back just enough to take a breath. His erotic scent of citrus and pine compelled her to breathe through her mouth, but she couldn’t resist the onslaught of physical reactions.
“You don’t mean what you say.” His voice was like melted chocolate, a dark, forbidden pleasure.
“Stop. Please. I’ll pay you back if you’ll let me go. Two, no, three times the damage.” Heaven help her, she would have said anything to get him to stop tormenting her. If he didn’t, she knew she’d remove his pants with her own damn teeth and beg him to corrupt her in any and every way he knew.
“I spent a year being frustrated by you, but I didn’t give up.” He chuckled in her ear and gave her earlobe a teasing nip. “You’re going to throw in the towel after three days?”
“I’ll pay you damages, I’ll—” Frantic, she struggled against him until she realized her movements excited him.
“20K in goods. That’s what you stole from me in five years, give or take.” He rubbed his lips across hers, teasing, then lowered his mouth to her neck. She kept waiting for him to bite her again, and just when she didn’t think he would, he did. She gasped and clutched his shoulders. “But I spent 180K to apprehend you.”
“180K?” Her breath faltered at both the figure and his delicious torture.
“Nash is an expensive man. You not only traumatized his testicles, but you bit his finger, so I had to pay hazard.”
“Did you pay him bonus?” She attempted a snide glare.
Commander kissed the snarl off her face. “Yes, for not killing you. He could have, desperately wanted to, yet didn’t.”
“Why?” She stayed still now, feeling the heat drain away. If she kept him talking, she might get out of here with her pants and secrets intact.
“I wanted you alive.”
She fought down a purr of pleasure when he rocked up between her legs. “Nash could have done anything to me.”
“Never-Fail Nash has his reputation because he earns it. My contract specified I wanted you unharmed. After you smashed his sac and bit his finger, he wanted to toss you out the nearest airlock. A contract, his word to mine, kept you alive.”
She swallowed and looked away.
“Let’s do some math, Mary. What did you actually get away with after five years?”
“20K.” She agreed to that amount even though they both knew the actual amount was much higher.
“Twenty. With an additional 180K for capture and delivery.” He shook his head. “We’re getting close to some serious trouble. That’s 200K. Triple damages? That’s 600K, more than half a Mil. There’s no way you can pay that.” He kissed her again. His tongue thrust deeper this time, in and out of her mouth with the same lazy grace his hips made against her lower body.
Torture. Sublime torture, but still torture.
Desperate, she gasped, “I can’t pay 600K all at once, but I swear, I’ll
pay you—”
“I don’t want script.” He traced her mouth with his tongue.
“What do you want?” She’d give him anything to stop this.
“Surrender.”
The word froze her, like a deep plunge into Ice Lake. “No.” Her voice sounded clearer now, stronger.
“Yes.”
As if aware he’d lost some advantage, he kissed her again.
She pushed at his shoulders, trying to get him away so she could think. “Are you saying if I slept with you, you’d let me go?”
“No. I don’t want you to sleep with me.” He grinned as he pulled her close by gripping her hips.
“You know what I mean.”
“Spell it out for me.” His eyes glittered. He took great pleasure in her embarrassment.
“Fine.” Infuriated, she straightened her shoulders by pushing on his. “You want me to spell it out. F-U-C-K. That’s what you want to do to me.”
He laughed. “What a vulgar word from such a pretty mouth.” After a shushing finger to her lips, he lowered his head. “Fuck implies a lack of emotion. Believe me, I want to do far more than just fuck you.”
His intensity compelled her to retreat. “You certainly don’t want to make love to me.” She could barely form the words, let alone say them.
Up his eyebrows went. “And why do you say that?”
“Because the only person you’re in love with is yourself.”
His eyes blazed, and she feared she’d pushed him too far.
“I’ll give you a choice. Make love with me or tell me why you were stealing from me. One or the other.” His voice sobered, taking on a cold edge. “Then, and only then, will I grant you your freedom. Do we have a deal?”
Three short beeps blasted from his wrist com.
He ignored the intrusion, watching her.
“Answer me. Do we have a deal or not?”
His bracelet emitted a series of three short beeps, a pause, and then three short beeps. He continued to ignore the shrill insistence as his eyes bored right into her very soul.
Overlord: The Fringe, Book 2 Page 11
