by Annalise
This woman inhabited Evans’s skin, but her head inside was all wrong. His Evans would never have succumbed to drugs even if she had started off the victim of some screw-up. No, his Evans would have trotted over to the base infirmary and checked in for help. Nor would she have agreed to work off her time in a brothel sucking dick and for all he knew rimming some guy’s asshole.
That thought made him drop the weight bar with a crash onto its support.
He took the steps three at a time and tore through the house. He jerked the blankets off her.
She sat up, lips puffy, hair tousled. There was a bruise on her hip… maybe from his fingers.
“What is it?” she asked, reaching for his pillow and putting it in front of her. Sheltering herself.
“I have a question.” It came out sharp and hard.
“What is it?” She put out a hand, but he ignored it.
“I want to know just how far your duties took you in The Palace.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Just tell me all the acts they required of you.”
“Link—”
“Come on. I want details. Am I swapping spit with someone who’s had her tongue up ten guys’ assholes?”
Her face, still a bit rosy from her punishment, went pale.
“Why are you asking me that? What I’ve done is none of your business. I would never ask you such a thing. How do I know you and some cunt captain haven’t been plowing each other’s assholes? And it is none of my business. What you’ve done, what I’ve done, since we last saw each other, doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me. I’ve had fun, I’ll admit that. But it’s been the kind of fun any guy has on a station off-planet. What you’ve done as a –” he broke off.
“Pole princess? Say it, Link. You said it last night. I’m a pole princess, a cock jockey. I’m a whore!”
He stood there in silence for a moment. “This is ridiculous.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Sorry. I knew what you were when I bought you.”
She rose from the bed, dropped the pillow, and took up her robe. After she belted it, she went to his case and threw it open.
His throat felt a bit tight as she rifled the contents and found the papers on her purchase. Her hair slid from her shoulder and concealed her face as she read the pages. It took a long time, but he didn’t move.
“Well,” she said, softly. The papers fluttered from her fingertips to the floor. She kept her gaze on them, head bowed. “I see I’m required to answer any and all questions you put to me. I’m also required to perform any service you deem appropriate.” When she turned, her hand went to the throat of her robe and she held it closed. Her face was set. He couldn’t read her expression. “What would you like to know? How can I be of service?”
“Forget it, Evans. Forget I asked. Forget those papers.”
“I can’t. You fucking own me.”
“As far as I’m concerned you can walk out of here any time you like.”
“Right now, if I like?”
“Yeah.” Shit. How could he say that? What would he do if she left? “No. I’m a fucking liar. I don’t want you to go.” He walked to where she stood and wrapped his hands in the lapels of her robe. “I’m suddenly understanding your drug thing. I’m addicted to you. I can’t get enough of you.”
He pulled her close by the cloth he crushed in his hands. “It’s too sunny outside right now, but we can go into the woods.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Her gaze was still shuttered, private, hiding her thoughts.
“I’m too sore.”
He scooped her into his arms. The tub heated and filled in only a few moments. Those moments he passed by kissing her. Her lips. Brows. Cheeks. The silky skin of her shoulder, her fingertips, her lips again.
The water was too hot for his taste, but just right for a sore body. She yelped a bit when he lifted her and lowered her into it.
Then he left her alone. For an hour. He used that time to whip up breakfast. God bless Grandma, he thought again as he threw cheese omelets into the cooker along with something bearing the intriguing label, blueberry muffins. Grandma must’ve been out in the woods hunting wild berries again. He couldn’t wait to watch Evans’s reaction to what his providing angel did with muffins.
Then another memory intruded. Wild blueberry stains on Evans’s shirt. From his fingers, from touching her.
If he was an asshole with words, maybe he could do better wooing her with food. And memories.
Chapter 14
Evans opened her eyes when Link elbowed his way into the bathroom. He had a huge tray, wide enough to straddle the tub. Tantalizing aromas wafted from the covered dishes.
“Is this real food, Link?”
“Yep. More Grandma gifts. She really knows how to stock a pantry.”
Her hands were steady as she dug into the real egg omelet. The berries in the muffins were real, too.
“Heavenly. Please thank your grandmother for me, will you?”
“Maybe you’ll get to thank her yourself.”
“I don’t think I’m going to be here that long.” She shoved the tray aside and stood up. He didn’t reach for her, but he did study her as she dried off and donned her robe.
He followed her into the bedroom.
She dropped the robe and climbed back between the sheets. He must have changed the bed while their breakfast was cooking, for the sheets were fresh, if rather amateurish in their installation. The smooth cotton was cool on her tub-warmed skin.
He stretched out beside her. Would she ever have her fill of looking at him? His body was so beautiful, inviting her to touch. Nevertheless, she resisted.
His penis lay flaccid against his thigh. She drew up the sheets and covered them both to the chin. Then she rolled over and stared at the wall.
It was time to go. Somehow she had to break away and contact headquarters.
To report the complete devastation of her mission to rescue Angel Martinez. Every moment in Link’s bed was a betrayal of that mission. Every moment brought them closer to Angel’s twenty-first birthday, and that would put the poor girl beyond their reach. Evans had seen just what Angel was caught up in. She couldn’t do that to any parent. She certainly couldn’t do that to a man she’d come to admire and respect.
Link’s hand stroked her hair. He said, “I remember once we climbed down the rocks to the beach. The water used to be cold here, according to my grandmother. Down in the sixty-degree range. But it was only chilly, if I recall. Maybe in the mid-eighties. The day had been really hot, so we didn’t mind the cold.”
She nodded to let him know she remembered too, but she kept her gaze on the wall.
“We swam and then made love on a towel. You kept yelping about getting sand in your crotch. And I teased you.” His fingers stroked her hair. “That day, you said something that really stayed with me. You said I had something no other man had. You didn’t know what it was. An invisible chemical that I gave off and only your sensors could pick up. You said whatever it was, it was like a leash from you to me. And all I had to do was tug the leash and you’d come to me. Not come, come. But… you know what I mean.”
She nodded. Her throat constricted. I’m a fucking security operative, level twelve, and I can’t stop crying. Her voice sounded reasonably normal when she said, “I said a lot of things. And they proved the chemical thing a century or two ago. I just smell good to you at some unconscious level. It’s all bullshit.”
“I’ll ignore that.” He tugged a lock of her hair, then smoothed it on her shoulder in a soft caress. “Anyway, I think you were wrong. I think the leash is there… you were right about that, but it works the other way. You tug and I come to you.” He kissed her shoulder. “I’d go anywhere you asked me to. Do just about any damn thing. I’d give up space for you, give up my command. Give it all up.”
She rolled to her back. He had a growth of stubble on his face. Men who were allergic to sperm suppressors couldn’t take the drugs th
at eliminated beards, either. She skimmed a finger down the line of dark hairs sprouting along his jaw.
He turned his head and captured her fingers between his teeth. She felt his tongue sweep over them and then he let go.
“I would give it up to know I was going to wake up every morning and find you by my side. Right here. Well,” he bent and kissed her shoulder again. “Not right here. This place is going.”
“Why?”
“I mortgaged it again to buy you. The payments are too high for me to keep up.”
She thrust her fingers into his hair and drew his head down. The kiss was slow and gentle. He’d mind fucked her all right. He loved this place. Loved it.
To sell it for her… to take her away from The Palace.
She remembered a song, a revival tune, from a couple hundred years ago, something about a slow hand. He had slow hands.
Very slow hands.
“What am I going to do with you?” he whispered.
She could not allow him to mesmerize her, keep her so enthralled she lost sight of her mission.
“I have to go, Link. Back to New Virginia. It’s really important. Can you take me?” She knew by the terms of the sales agreement with The Palace, she could not go anywhere without his permission.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he said and entwined his fingers with hers.
He stretched her arms out and kissed her. She felt a quiver of anticipation from deep inside, but forced herself to speak. “I have to get back, Link.”
“Later. Later.” His mouth roamed her throat and shoulders. His hips shifted his erection against her belly. When his knee moved between her thighs, she moaned in anticipation.
With their hands linked, there was no way to guide him where they both wanted him to go. She lifted her legs and locked her ankles across the small of his back. He probed, missed, shifted, laughed a gust of warm air against her throat when he could not put himself in her.
She tugged one hand free and slid it down his flank, then to his penis. She guided him home and put her hand back in his.
Their hips undulated in a familiar rhythm. Just as she felt the quivering rise of her climax, he put his lips to her ear.
“I’d go anywhere, stay earthside, to be with you,” he whispered.
She wailed and churned her hips as her climax overtook her. He groaned and joined her. When they lay limp, limbs entwined, hands still locked, skin sweaty and damp wherever they touched, he said it again, softly, by her ear.
“Anywhere, Evans. Anywhere.”
* * * * *
Evans stood ramrod straight before her boss. The Undersecretary of Homeland Security, Eric Samuels, paced and ranted. His aide, Mark Jordan, sat like a statue with his recorder, ready to take notes.
She tried to block out most of Samuel’s tirade, but it was difficult when she knew it was all true.
Link thought she was shopping for new clothes. She was wearing a new, plain rose-pink suit, but she was no longer in the Skyhigh Mall. She had signaled Samuels from a public panel in the rest room and Jordan had picked her up at the back entrance.
“What is Colonel Taylor going to think when he finds you missing?”
“I don’t know. It’ll be unfit for human ears, if I know Link.”
Samuels sighed. “We’re back to where we were before you entered The Palace. And Angel is still missing.”
Evans leaned forward. “I am sorry. I had no idea Link had a card. We put that membership list through a fine sieve and I know his name wasn’t on it. He told me he picked up someone else’s card in a junk shop. No one had any reason to anticipate that. Those cards are worth a large fortune.”
Samuels tapped his fingertips together. “There isn’t any answer but infiltration. There just isn’t, and we’re running out of time. If the legal age of majority is raised, it would give us four more years, but the Councilors are particularly fractious right now, and unlikely to pass any bills during this session. Nothing is going to change before Angel’s birthday. And I can’t let Secretary Martinez know the mission fell apart.”
A few moments later, Samuels lifted his dark eyes to hers. There was a sheen of perspiration on his coffee-colored skin. “I have an idea,” he said.
He turned to his aide. “Jordan, pick up Colonel Taylor at the Capital Mall. He’ll be fairly easy to spot. Look for a man with steam pouring out of his ears.”
They waited in Samuel’s office. She paced in front of the wall of windows that overlooked one of the parks. There were no pedestrians to watch in the midday sun, but the wide avenues were filled with vehicles and the air with PFs.
She smoothed her suit over her hips and touched the tight knot of hair at the base of her neck. A buzz sounded at the office door. Her heart thudded in her chest. Her stomach churned. With military precision, she turned and stood at attention.
Link walked into the office, saw her and, with barely a sign he knew her beyond a slight inclination of his head, shook hands with Samuels when introduced by Jordan.
“Please sit, Colonel.” Samuels indicated a comfortable chair by his desk.
Evans remained standing.
“You have complicated matters considerably, Colonel Taylor.”
Link raised one eyebrow but said nothing. He remained silent while Samuels explained the part Evans was playing and her mission. He remained silent through the Undersecretary’s description of his idea for another infiltration of The Palace.
Link sat for a moment, his mind working to reorganize the events of the past few weeks, recasting them in light of Eric Samuel’s revelations. All this was more than he had ever suspected, although Evans on a mission for Homeland Security made sense. Evans addicted to drugs, stealing to get drugs, never had.
He felt like a fool. Looking back, it all made sense, except for his addiction to Evans. Shit. How could he have behaved like an animal in rut?
“With all due respect, sir,” Link said, “I do not see how sending us together into The Palace as clients will help your investigation. Didn’t you say other guests had tried and failed?”
“From Lieutenant Colonel Evans’s report, we now realize the effort was underfunded. Using the sudden wealth you’ve acquired through inheritance or a lottery win to indulge your interest in sexual experimentation is the perfect cover. We’ll make sure you have enough credits to get wherever you need to be.”
“Once we find her, why not just buy her like I bought Evans?” Link asked.
“Unfortunately, by law, Angel didn’t enter The Palace as a debtor or a convict. So she has no contract for purchase. She won’t be for sale.”
Link thought it would have been too easy, and it was.
“We’ll take care of your new good fortune, leak it carefully so it doesn’t make a splash but gets to the right ears. Our intelligence indicates that it’s not uncommon for personal servants to accompany their owners to these appointments.”
Jordan shifted in his chair, as though he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the discussion. Link wondered how many daughters the man had at home.
“Sexual experimentation is what you need to undertake, because Lieutenant Colonel Evans here has informed us that the only place she’s actually seen Angel Martinez is in one fetish scenario.” Samuels flashed a glance back at Evans before he continued. “Those clients are served in a different area of the building from where Evans was based. And that area is probably restricted to those guests with exceptional wealth. It’s likely that those guests, who are wealthy and powerful and thus motivated to keep quiet, are offered the underage attendants. Just having the wealth to access the next level of menus should help you get to Angel.”
The thought of what the staff at The Palace had done to Evans made him sweat. What they might do to Angel made him just sick.
Samuels must have paid attention in those classes about reading interrogation subjects’ faces. At that moment, he said, “We’re almost out of time. When Angel turns twenty-one, she’s beyond our reach.”
When Link looked up and met his eyes, Samuels said quietly, “It’s taken more than a year to track her to The Palace.”
Link stood. “If General Richter agrees to loan me to your division, I’ll do it—provided several conditions are met.”
Everyone visibly relaxed. “Whatever you want, we can work it out.”
“Fine. I want the money back that I paid for Evans’s contract. Find the antique PF I sold and return it to me. Once this is over, Evans gets promoted to full colonel. Whether or not we’re successful.” He ignored Evans’s indrawn breath behind him, focusing on the man behind the desk.
Link had paid attention in those classes, too. He watched as Jordan made several notations on a panel display. Samuels looked relieved, and he apparently had expected more in the way of demands. Link searched his plan and wondered just what he’d missed.
Samuel rose. “Is that all, Colonel?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t you want to be in charge?”
“No, sir, I believe Evans and I will be fine with whatever you choose to give us in terms of backup. Frankly, I don’t expect to need it. Between her knowledge of the facility and our combined skills, we should be in and out of there on our own just fine.”
“If you will excuse us, I will go and see about these arrangements.” Samuel and his assistant stepped outside, closing the door behind them.
Link lost no time. He grabbed Evans by the shoulders and shook her. “What the hell were you doing, not telling me about your mission?”
“Link, you know I couldn’t tell anyone. I was under orders. Covert ops, deep cover.”
“Not from me,” he growled.
“Yes, even from you. Especially from you.” She freed herself with a sudden move and stepped back. Her chin set, she glared at him. “Just how did you get into The Palace? We checked those membership lists against every database we could think of, and no one came up who might have blown my cover. Then, one week into my mission, you show up for a hand job. From me.”
“I bought that card for five credits. I had no idea you were there until I saw you on the attendant roster.” He hated the defensive note in his voice.
