Right. Time for a valiant effort to change the subject. “As for the rumor you heard, I bet I know how this one got started. One of my old contacts on Denguay ripped off the government a little too blatantly and got caught. If that story’s hit the rumor mill, my name’s bound to come up, and the next thing you know someone’s ready to swear I’m in jail or dead.”
“Hoped it might be something like that,” Rahal confessed. “Criminal types are worse gossips than schoolgirls. But I have to be careful. There are assassins after my sworn brother and his friends, including Xia.”
He’s not worried about himself and I know people were trying to kill him at the spaceport. Potentially significant. Does it mean he doesn’t care if he dies, or is he simply confident he can win?
“But no one might possibly want to kill you? That’s cocky. Good thing I like cocky.” He felt like a dorky teenager. Just saying cocky made him think about dicks, which made him harder against Rahal’s exploratory hand.
“Of course people want to kill me. I’d prefer they failed. But most of the people who want me dead are going to come right up to me and shoot. Drax and Xia both pissed off Nitari Belesku enough she’d kill them without any credits to gain, and, apparently, there are plenty of credits on the line— at least for killing Drax, maybe for the lot of them.”
Time to keep a very straight face. “I don’t know this Drax but if he’s your sworn brother, I’d buy he could make an enemy of just about everyone. But what could an adorable girl like Xia do to offend a pro? Smooch her boyfriend?”
“More like claw her eye out. Literally. Apparently it’s a bad idea to try to hurt someone Xia cares about, and Drax hooked up with Xia’s best friend so he’s family now.”
A slow, calculated nod. “That explains the crazy story I heard, which was that Belesku was out of circulation getting cosmetic regen to hide some of the genetic mods she’s had. I found it believable that she’d want to keep the strength and the dense bones from the Blemondian genes she had spliced in with the human ones, but not look like her Wanted holos anymore. She must be in hiding to recover. The amount of genetic manipulation she’s had is going to make regenning an eye slow, if it even works.”
“That’s why gene manip’s banned so many places. It’s stupid.”
“Did you hear the one where she had the manips done for unrequited love? Now, that’s comedy. Nitari Belesku is so not that woman.” Cal thanked the stars that he kept up on crazy underground rumors like that one.
“You never know. Love does funny things to people. But I can’t imagine how a Blemondian could turn a human woman’s head that much, unless she really likes her lovers square-built and geeky. If she’d tried to turn herself more felinoid, it would make sense.” He preened.
“Cocky.” Cal was startled by how warm and affectionate the word sounded. How warm and affectionate he felt, even though Rahal had been threatening him so recently.
“Just realistic. But seriously, or as seriously as I’m inclined to be, this is a perfect lead-in to the other subject I wanted to discuss with you, now that I know you’re really Karn Anders. Sit down and make yourself as comfortable as you can be in that awful contraption of a chair, because if you come down on the cushions next to me, I might jump you and we’d never get to the serious stuff.”
Cal thought that bypassing the serious conversation and skipping straight to sex sounded like an awesome idea.
But even awash in hormones, he was a private lawman, first and foremost, and curiosity had goaded him in life far more regularly than lust had. He didn’t know if what Rahal wanted to talk about pertained to Xia, but it was bound to be intriguing. Given Rahal’s criminal connections and edgy lifestyle, it might connect to something that would involve a reward or bounty in the long run.
He settled back into the chair and leaned forward with interest.
And if he was leaning closer to the warlord partly because his skin was longing for more contact with Rahal’s…well, he was only human.
“You want me to work for you temporarily, helping Xia, who’s a trained assassin, enforce your brand-new laws? Not my style.” The weird thing was it was Cal’s style; he’d done a few stints on frontier planets, helping them get their homegrown law enforcement systems up and running. But it wasn’t in Karn the Viking’s line of work at all. “I’m all about finding the loopholes in the law or the people who can be bribed. Not to mention occasionally blasting right through the law with a lasercannon array if I can’t find a more graceful way to get the job done.”
Rahal was sprawled out on luxurious cushions, looking like the picture of indolence except for the set of his ears and his sharp green gaze, which was as bright and glittering as the emeralds on that appalling necklace. He laughed. “That’s why I like you for the job. You’re sneaky. You’re devious. You’re smart. You know all the ways people try to get around the laws because you invented half of those workarounds. And even though you’re a greedy, smuggling SOB, the things I’m against appall you just as much as they do me.”
“You’re not setting the bar very high. Slavery and pedophilia probably disgust Javanian spaceworms. Though there are always some driftdwells who aren’t as ethical as Javanian spaceworms.” Which literally were driftdwells, one of the few creatures capable of surviving the frigid vacuum of space.
“Gotta start somewhere. When even people like you and me, who aren’t exactly Vega missionaries, agree something’s wrong, it’s wrong. And a planet that lets people get away with that marl is bad for business. I want you to help Xia because you’re known for thinking things through, human style. It’ll balance Xia until she figures out which people to shred and which ones to damage just enough to subdue. I’ve learned to fake being reasonable when it’s going to work for me, but she’s young, still following her nose and tail into trouble. That’s fine, except when it’s not. You’ll know when it’s not. Plus, you’re big enough to stop her and clever enough to do it without damaging her.”
Damn, Rahal had him there. Xia, based on what Rahal had told him, was a loose cannon. An adorable, sexy one, but a cannon covered with pink glitter and blasting bouncy pop music was still a weapon. (Never mind that most cannons didn’t produce music. The image popped into his mind and stuck there.)
But Karn wouldn’t do the job out of the goodness of his heart. Stars, Cal wouldn’t, despite his fondness for Xia and dislike for the slavers and other extreme driftdwells that needed to be stopped. A guy had to earn a living and Karn’s standard of living was far higher than Cal’s. “This won’t come cheap.”
“I didn’t think you would come…cheap.” The pause was significant, a definite double entendre. “I’m prepared to offer you untraceable credits and so many valuable shiny rocks you’ll have to recalibrate your propulsion system to haul them all away…if you’ll help with this project.”
“I want specific numbers but that’s a good start.” He let himself smile. “I’m still bewildered by this. Do they even have laws on your home planet?”
Rahal shrugged eloquently. He then rolled off the cushions, apparently levitated to his feet, because there was no visible effort involved, and began to pace a circuit around the desk. Cal couldn’t decide if the sudden switch from indolence to restless energy alarmed or intrigued him. It was certainly fun to watch. Rahal in full motion was an amazing sight, with his twitching tail and ability to look naked even when he was mostly dressed.
After three circuits of the desk, he halted perilously close to the torture chair. “You’re human, so no offense—but humans need clear, obvious laws. Most species do.”
“And felinoids don’t because you guys are so morally advanced? I don’t buy it.”
“Says the man who’ll sell weapons to anyone who’ll meet his prices, including me, and no one has much good to say about my judgment and ethics, including me. Contrary to rumors off-planet, Mrrwr has laws—just not a lot of them. Don’t kill sentie
nts unless you can prove they really needed killing. Don’t rape. Don’t keep slaves unless it’s a BDSM arrangement between consenting adults. And whatever you do, keep your paws off kittens. Everything else is covered by the unwritten rule ‘Don’t spoil someone else’s fun’. When someone goes too far, we prank them hard enough they either get smarter fast or leave town. But for most species it seems like laws help remind them.”
Rahal finally paused for breath and Karn was able to squeeze in a few words. “Most places have too many marling laws, but not having any at all isn’t good either.” He paused then added, “Of course, some of us see laws as a challenge or a checklist for new things to try. But the completely lawless places I know of are dysfunctional, and the people who suffer most are the ones who deserve it least. The only exception I can think of is Garthak Nineteen, and how much trouble can anemones with genius IQs get into, anyway?” Cal had no idea if Karn had ever been on Garthak—it was neither a market for weapons nor a hot party spot—but at the very least he, like Cal, would have seen documentaries about the philosopher plants and their blissful, anarchistic culture.
“Exactly. I know it’s ironic, me trying to set up a legal system when I settled here because I liked the idea of a planet with no rules at all. But it only worked for me because I’m smarter and stronger and faster than most. So I won the marling game and now…” Rahal sighed and his striking posture slumped. Even when the conversation had been at its most serious, he’d still had that flash of wicked humor in his green eyes, but now, Karn thought, he just looked exhausted.
“Now it’s not a game anymore.”
“I hate this responsibility shit. But since I went to all the trouble of winning the game and becoming the warlord, I should make life here suck a little less. Felinoids believe the game’s more fun when everyone at least gets a chance to play. Sure, some people are going to lose, but if they don’t even get to make a few moves, that’s boring for everyone. But every day I’m more and more tempted to take my toys and go home.”
“A man could have a lot of fun on Mrrwr with a few million credits and a pile of rubies the size of a shuttle.” Not that Cal knew the size of Rahal’s fortune, but he’d gauge Rahal’s reaction and see how close he was.
Which might have worked better if Rahal weren’t a felinoid. He waved one hand and snorted. “I can get credits anywhere. It’s more entertaining to leave them behind and watch the idiots fight over them. By toys, I meant this crazy necklace, because it’s part of a great story, and Xia and her friends, because I like them. They have the right attitude to make it on Mrrwr. Maybe I’d also take a small pile of rubies. Rubies are shiny, girls squeal over shiny objects, and squealing girls lead to good times.”
Then he smiled a sexy, carnivorous grin, licked his lips and leaned in closer. “Unlike Xia, you won’t get the joke if I call you one of my toys and threaten to pack you in my suitcase. But if I do decide to run away, do you want to come too? It’ll be fun.”
Chapter Thirteen
Cal froze. Of all the possible results of his charade, this ranked as less likely than enjoying a spontaneous threesome with the hot warlord and the sexy target of his own investigation, and then being offered a job in the district’s nascent law enforcement brute squad, with a few death threats in between. Certainly more pleasant than the more probable outcomes he’d thought of, which all ended with spurting blood and piles of corpses.
How should he play this?
He reached out and put his hands on Rahal’s slim, powerful hips.
“Mrrwr’s a lousy market for me. You guys can’t be bothered to have a war. But I hear it’s a great planet to visit if you’re open to shenanigans.”
“Are you?” Rahal leaned in even closer and Cal let instinct take over.
Part of Cal’s brain raced, screaming all the reasons he should stop now, that he’d taken the charade more than far enough. But that was Cal talking, Cal who always tried to do the sensible thing—except where this case was concerned. Must be all the felinoids involved, because he was being as impulsive as any felinoid ever born. Or maybe being Karn the Viking was simply more interesting than being Cal.
“Stars yeah,” he said before Rahal’s lips met his. “I love shenanigans.”
The last tether attaching Cal to reason snapped under the assault of that kiss. Nothing subtle here, it was beautiful and brutal at the same time, like Rahal himself. It lit up Cal’s whole body—not just his lips and not just his hardening cock, but everywhere in between. And Rahal’s hands burned right through Cal’s clothes until it seemed the clothes ought to catch fire and stop being in the way.
He couldn’t quite say how they wound up on the heap of luxurious cushions, or how his coat and shirt ended up tossed aside with such gusto the shirt landed over a particularly garish lamp on the other side of the room, or when, exactly, his fly was opened to let his erection free. That part was all a blur.
But he knew how Rahal’s clothes disappeared because he’d done it. The leather pants laced shut, and he’d unlaced them, reveling in how the complicated fastening forced him to pay even more attention to Rahal, to the hard cock that tantalized him beyond the leather. He tore off a few buttons on the satin shirt, noticing to his amusement that several were already missing and there were a few small tears that might have been made by an eager cat-girl’s claws.
Naked, or mostly so, the two men slowed down for a second. Rahal was sprawled on the cushions, looking like he owned not just a corner of this world but the whole marling galaxy, and Cal couldn’t stop touching his dark skin, petting his silken tail.
Stroking Rahal’s big cock.
Oh stars, that cock. He just couldn’t help himself, couldn’t think of any reason why he should. He just hoped he wasn’t letting his relative inexperience with guys show. He’d handled his own dick more than often enough to know his way around one. But one of the revelations of Cal’s occasional jaunts queerward was how different one cock was from another, how every man he’d ever touched was both like him and completely and utterly different.
Rahal, being another species, was even more different. Felinoids’ genitals were similar to humans’, but not identical. His cock was a subtly different shape, the head not as bulbous, but blending more smoothly into the shaft, a line as graceful as the rest of the felinoid’s body.
Cal licked his lips, tried to come up with something Karn might say under the circumstances, something witty and urbane and seductive, all at the same time. But what came out was “You are unfairly gorgeous. I’m certainly enjoying it but what about all the other poor chumps you outsexy just by existing? How can they compete?”
Rahal actually purred at that and preened a little. “They can’t. But I can’t monopolize all the pretty people, all the time. There’s plenty of fun for everyone if they have the sense to look.” He stretched out long and lean, defining all his muscles.
Cal hoped he wasn’t drooling but knew he was gaping.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Viking,” Rahal continued. “All big and fair and tough looking, like your name, and gentle, but in a perverse way. I was watching how you handled Xia, like you knew she wouldn’t break, but you enjoyed treating her like she might, sometimes, just to make her crazier.”
He rolled over, an abrupt movement that was somehow lazy looking. “So, speaking of driving people crazy, are you going to fuck me or what? I’ve been waiting.”
Cal swore he got dizzy from the blood rushing from his brain to his cock. He somehow kept enough brain cells functional to ask about lube.
Which, as it turned out, was in a gem-studded box on Rahal’s desk, hiding in plain sight among the files and computer bits.
And then he let his brain shut down, except for the parts he needed to push his pants down and fall upon Rahal like a starving man.
He’d come in Xia’s mouth just about an hour ago, but that didn’t seem to matter. He just hoped it would be
enough to keep him from exploding like an overexcited virgin. The soft brush of Rahal’s silky black tail against Cal’s thigh was almost enough to undo him, especially combined with the way Rahal’s asshole gripped at his questing fingers as he opened the felinoid up, prepping him to take a cock. Not that he seemed to need a lot of prep, from the way he was thrusting back against Cal’s hand, mewling. Cal wanted to be patient. No, he felt like he should be patient and draw out the foreplay, teasing at Rahal’s glorious ass like he imagined the sophisticated Karn might.
Then Rahal pushed back harder, engulfing Cal’s fingers and said in a broken voice, “Please. I never beg. But I’m begging.”
Cal’s already aching cock became painful with need at those words and even more so at the desperation in Rahal’s voice. Even when they’d been talking about taking down the worst sorts of criminals, Rahal had sounded tongue in cheek, except for those few times when he let exhaustion show, but that intense need moved Cal and not just erotically. He sensed Rahal was displaying a level of trust with this unguarded expression of lust that Cal had done nothing to merit.
Come to think of it, letting a stranger, even a stranger he’d been in a threesome with, see that bone-deep fatigue was probably a big deal to a predator like Rahal.
Every romantic impulse Cal had stifled over the years flooded into him now. He didn’t believe in love at first sight. Lust, sure, and he knew he’d felt that for both Rahal and Xia. But he did believe you could sometimes sense a connection with someone you’d just met, not true love in the romance-holo sense, but the start of a friendship or a relationship that would change both your lives.
Maybe that was happening here. He wanted to believe that, wanted to believe that the crazy passion and sense of connection he felt with both felinoids was reciprocated and meant something.
Bad Kitty Page 10
