Sextus

by Alana Khan

  “You walked on that carpet to get to me little Lexa? Why?”

  “I figured out what I want, Sex, and I want you.”

  He licks my big toe, then sucks it into his mouth and swirls it with his tongue. I realize why it’s a fetish back on Earth. Dear God, it’s intimate and sexual and feels amazing.

  My eyes shutter closed and my muscles relax because I can’t pay attention to anything other than the pulsing desire throbbing along my veins.

  “What part of me do you want?” He smiles, licks me again, and sucks the next toe into the warm suction of his mouth.

  “Umm, I didn’t realize until just now, but the tongue. Yes, one part of you I want is definitely the tongue.” Every pull of suction on my toe produces a pull of hot suction on my clit. Wet warmth spreads between my legs.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Lexa. I don’t want to hurt your body or your heart. I’m truly sorry about what happened in my cabin the other day. I was unkind. I never want to hurt you again.”

  “Then carry me to our bed, Sex, and make me feel good,” I say that with total confidence, even though I’m shy and a bit scared.

  He lifts me up like I weigh nothing and stalks toward the bed. I’m in his arms in the bride-over-the-threshold position. We’re face-to-face and he’s wearing a rare smile on that gorgeous face. He nuzzles my neck, then whispers in my ear, “I’m a dracker, pet, but I can learn to be a gentle male. You tell me what you want. You tell me when to stop. You’re in control.”

  I lean over and kiss him. He doesn’t seem to strain under my weight, and I love feeling light as a feather in his arms. His touch is sweet and masculine at the same time. He plies soft kisses to my lips, then delves deeper. He tastes good, like cinnamon and spices—warm and dark and masculine.

  I clutch his neck, sifting my fingers through his hair. Then my hands roam lower, splaying across his upper back and shoulders, pulling him closer.

  “I want you, Sex. I want to feel everything there is to feel with a male. I want to feel it with you. I want to allow your touch. I want to let go. I want to let you lead. I want...everything with you.” Words, so many words spilling out of a mouth that rarely shares. Now I don’t want to stop.

  “I want to taste you. I want to know the difference between the taste of your tongue and the taste of your nipple and the taste of your cock. I want to lick you and tongue you and take you deep inside my mouth. I want to learn you, Sextus. I want to know every touch that makes you moan, or growl, or make that hungry sound in the back of your throat.”

  “Pet.” He nips the cords of my neck and under my ear. “You will. But it doesn’t all have to happen today,” his voice has a deep, animal sound. It makes my core clench.

  He sets me down on the bed like the finest Ming vase from the fourteenth century—like I’m priceless.

  The towel that was wrapped chastely around his waist fell off at some point in the foot-washing ceremony. His beautiful cock is pointing at me—the cobalt swirls look alive as it pulses with each heartbeat.

  He presses his hip next to mine, one foot still planted on the floor, the other bent at the knee on the bed. As aroused as we both are, he’s taking his time. Right now, he’s drinking in the sight of me.

  “Your body’s perfect, Lexa. I’m taking a picture. I’ll keep it forever in my mind.”

  All at once reality comes crashing down on me. This male is going to kill the biggest, baddest cartel boss in the galaxy in two days. No one can do that and live to tell the tale.

  Oh my God. I can’t go through with this. I like Sextus. I’m falling for him. I can’t bind myself to him more tightly knowing he’ll be dead by week’s end.

  I sit up and plaster myself to him. My breasts press tightly to his chest. Fitting the crown of my head under his chin, I pull him to me so fiercely my fingernails might be drawing blood from his shoulders.

  “I can’t do this, Six. I can’t let you in. My heart would break open, dissolve into molecules if I opened every crevice of my soul, then lost you. I’m sorry. I know there’s a name for women who do this to males, but if I go through with this and then lose you it will kill me, too.”

  Sextus

  She’s right. Absolutely right. I have no business defiling her and leaving her in a few days. I’ve been right all along. I’m a dracker, the lowest life form in the galaxy.

  Chapter Seven

  Lexa

  It’s been the longest day of my life. I slept way later than usual. I usually pop out of bed as soon as I wake up, but I wanted to avoid any awkward discussion, so I just kept trying to fall back asleep. The rest of the day has been full of uncomfortable silences.

  Nothing has changed between us except the lack of conversation. I still can’t take my eyes off his body. And by the way, why is he walking around naked, anyway? The faint drumbeat of arousal still courses along my veins. I still want him and fear losing him in equal measures.

  I’ve almost begged him to change his mind a thousand times. But this is the course he chose decades ago. He was closer to his sister than any living being. Why would he alter his direction now?

  “Let’s go over the plan one more time.” He interrupts my reverie as he sets down the food he just brought to the room.

  “Griff, the mechanic, is coming with the Broog,” I say around a bite of nearly edible food. “He’s meeting us here. It will be wrapped like we just bought it…”

  We go over the entire plan, then just sit, avoiding looking at each other until we hear Griff’s knock at the door.

  ~.~

  I may have run a hundred cons in my life, many of which were before I went to kindergarten, but in order for things to work perfectly, you have to keep your thoughts razor sharp at all times. It’s like that moment in the Terminator where you get a glimpse into Arnold Schwarzenegger’s brain and you see him constantly running alternate scenarios as he assesses what’s happening and what to say or do.

  I’m laser-focused, as I both play klempto and wait for Khour to arrive. I don’t even want to contemplate what will happen if he doesn’t show up. I can’t go through another day like today.

  He arrives, but bypasses our table and joins the higher-stakes game. Crap, that means I’ll have to join him at his table. Not only will we be running the most dangerous con of my life, but my whole stack will be at risk.

  The floorman is more than happy to move me to the big boys’ table. Sextus had to exchange our gold for additional chips before they’d even let me sit down to play. The males here are even less thrilled with my presence than at the lower-stakes table. Their sour expressions let me know in no uncertain terms that my peaches and I are interlopers. Khour hasn’t even nodded at me although we played at the same table for the last two days.

  Okay, boys, let’s see how you feel about me after I’ve beaten you in a few hands.

  I’m playing well and won a few small pots. And by small pots I mean almost one hundred thousand credits each—we’re playing for huge stakes.

  “Can I look at it?” I ask my master suggestively when I’m not in a hand.

  “It’s wrapped for a reason, Pet. It’s far too valuable to be in public. We should have put it in the safe at the hotel before we came to play,” he scolds.

  “But I just felt so lucky,” I pout. “I didn’t want to wait. How lucky is it to find a Broog that you could afford? Today’s my lucky day.”

  I dart a glance at Khour to make sure he heard our conversation—oh yeah, his ears perked up.

  My next hand is seven, eight suited. I like low suited connectors, they can make you a lot of money because your opponents don’t see them coming.

  Holy crap, I flop a flush. In klempto you get two cards in your hand, which you peek at, then keep face down on the table. There is betting before the flop—which is where the dealer lays three cards on the table face up—betting after the flop, as well as after the fourth card is exposed, and after the fifth card is exposed. Your hand can get better or worse every time the dealer exposes an
other card.

  I have a flush, which is great, so I’m not sure why Khour comes out betting—and betting a lot. Of course, he could have a higher flush in his hand, but for some reason, I am feeling lucky today. I call his bet.

  The next card is another of the same suit. My stomach drops. If he only has one card of the suit, it’s probably the Ace or King and he has me beat. However, my heart almost stops beating when I realize I have a straight flush. The second best hand in all of klempto.

  Khour makes a pot-sized bet and stares at me. Wow, there’s a lot of money in this pot. Like, enough money to buy a fabulous house on the best planet. Maybe enough to buy a whole planet!

  I think he may have the galactic-equivalent of an Ace-high flush, which is a super good hand. Doesn’t he see there’s a possible straight flush out there? If he does, he doesn’t put me on it.

  I put on an Academy-award winning performance and think for a long, long time, then call his bet. This leaves me with around fifty thousand chips left on the table. Khour has maybe a million sitting in front of him.

  The final card is inconsequential, nothing that could improve either of our hands, but it gives us another chance to bet.

  Khour ignores me, of course, and asks Sextus, “Care to put up the Broog and the rest of her stack against my stack?”

  Ohhh. Interesting moment of truth. Sex has been watching me play for two days straight. Does he have enough faith in me to trust that I have the better hand? Or will he refuse the offer?

  As Sextus considers the proposition, Khour asks to see the painting. I had imagined the masterpiece, one of the most sought-after works of art in the galaxy, would be huge—at least two feet by three feet—maybe bigger. But the Broog turned out to be about ten by twelve inches.

  And they weren’t kidding about it being from his red period. To my untrained eye, it’s a bunch of red splotches on a red background with the word “Broog” painted by what looks like a kindergartner in the upper left corner. Oh well, I’m not sure I would be impressed by a Jackson Pollock back on Earth either. How much class do you expect from a lowlife swindler?

  Sextus opens his palm toward me. I place the Broog in his hand. He offers it to Khour who unwraps it like it contains the winning lotto ticket and proceeds to inspect it for long minutes.

  Khour has his assistant scouring the Intergalactic Database for pictures and comparables. He’s handed the outer space equivalent of a jeweler’s loupe, from where I have no idea, and is scrutinizing it from mere millimeters away.

  This klempto hand has taken so long, anyone at the table could have complained to management. On Earth, betting with anything other than chips isn’t allowed. But I’m certain everyone at the table realizes this is Daneur Khour, head of the MarZan cartel. Any person who values their head staying on their neck would sit here for another two hours without whispering a word of protest.

  “What makes you think this is a genuine Broog?” He pierces Sextus with a wolfish look.

  Sextus shakes his head. “I was just...indulging my pet. She told me she always wanted one. The shopkeeper kept it in the back, said it was real. Said he’d sell it to me cheap because, well, you know it’s illegal to trade in these since they were all stolen from museums during the Eregon wars,” he whispered that last part, like anyone in a klempto room would care about the law.

  “But Mr. Khour, I can’t vouch for this painting at all. I haven’t had it appraised...although the shopkeeper provided two certificates of authenticity.” He holds his palm out to me again. “Give me the authentication, Pet,” he orders.

  I grab them from under my halftique and hand them over. Sextus must have faith in me having the winning hand, or he wouldn’t be doing such a good job of baiting Khour while at the same time creating plausible deniability.

  Ten minutes later Khour nods his head, slowly at first, then faster and with finality. “I raise to all your chips...and the Broog.”

  Every eye at the table turns to me as if this will be some big decision.

  On Earth there’s an expression for having a great hand, it’s called “the nuts”. On those rare occasions where there is absolutely nothing that can beat you, it’s called the “mortal nuts”.

  I push all my remaining chips into the middle of the table and Sextus reluctantly sets the Broog on the huge stack.

  Khour turns over his Ace-high flush with a smug look on his lavender face. I turn over the mortal nuts.

  “Drack!” Khour screams and tries to push over the table. It’s a good thing these tables weigh a ton and are bolted down. I imagine stronger species than Khour have tried and failed at that maneuver.

  A stream of epithets comes out of Khour’s mouth, they’re so vile my translator can’t keep up. His lavender face is now a mottled shade of eggplant. For the first time since I heard the word “halftique” I’m glad I’m wearing one because I’m grinning from ear-to-ear and no one can see me.

  I glance at Sextus to see if he’s gloating. Khour’s meltdown has to be satisfying. But he’s half out of his seat, motioning to the floorman to get us racks for our chips. There’s so much money here it will take an hour to exchange it for gold.

  Sextus

  As thrilled as I am that Lexa won almost her weight in gold, this is a bodyguard’s nightmare. Khour is an evil bastard who is not losing with class. I’m certain he’ll try something before we leave atmo. If that doesn’t work, he can send one of his decommissioned federation warships to track us to the ends of the galaxy.

  One step at a time. I comm the ship for reinforcements. Twenty minutes later Devolose and Griff, both huge males in their own right, are standing at the cashier with us as we’re handed our gold.

  The last thing we can do is ask for protection from local law enforcement. I’m sure Khour has paid them all off.

  “I’m certain you’re on high alert, worried about safety,” Devolose says calmly. “Thantose told me to remind you we upgraded to a better matter transporter on our recent layover on Primus. They can transport us up from the nearby hovercraft lot.”

  Thank the Gods; we can be on the Tranquility and shooting into hyperspace within three minimas.

  I hand the leash to Lexa so I don’t chafe her neck on the run out of the casino. She’s carrying the Broog, Griff’s carrying the gold, and Devolose and I are pulling weapons from their hiding places as we run to the exit.

  Just as I’d hoped, we’re transported aboard and jolting into hyperspace in record time.

  Chapter Eight

  Lexa

  Sextus pulls me to him, chest to chest, the moment we board the ship. He tosses his weapons to the floor, yanks off his t-shirt, and pulls it over my head. I’d forgotten my wares were on display, but he hadn’t. By the thunderous look on his face, he didn’t want any of his shipmates staring at my peaches. I’m too busy panting from exertion and trying to process the last few hours to even care about modesty.

  Captain Thantose greets us near the entry doors and affably slaps Sextus on the back, then tries to press his forehead to mine. I understand that’s a warm greeting among his species. I’m still too freaked out for his act of friendly affection to make much of an impact.

  Moments later, most of my shipmates have joined us in the dining area and the room fills with excited stories about our time on Lusion. I’m eating cellots, a small, round fruit that’s an interesting combo of sweet and tart, while Sextus regales everyone with tales of my exploits.

  “Lexa is a master at klempto,” he brags, his eyes shining in appreciation. “She went to the planet with 500,000 credits and parlayed it to over eight million.”

  My emotions haven’t caught up with my circumstances. I see the pile of gold bars on the table and can’t even fathom that amount of money.

  “Will this buy me a house on a safe planet?” I ask.

  “Several,” Thantose replies with an easy smile, “even after you give the Tranquility her ten percent share, repay me, and share the winnings. You’re rich and you’ve made me rich
as well.”

  “I just want to hit the sack,” I say as I stand to go to my room.

  I’m so tired, but on such an adrenaline high, I don’t know if I can get to sleep. One thing I know is that dozing in my little bunk will feel lonely after cuddling with Sextus the last few nights.

  As I stand outside my cabin, I look over and see Sextus pressing his palm to his doorscan four doors down. Our glances meet, although I can’t read his expression. My feet walk to him of their own volition and I look up into his handsome face.

  “I’m so tired I can’t think straight, but I need to decompress before I sleep. You’re the only one who can relate to what I’ve been through.”

  “I’d ask you to join me, but within five minimas every person onboard will know we’re in here together.” His icy-blue stare pierces mine.