Bad Kitty

by Teresa Noelle Roberts

  And beyond that romantic hope, he just wanted as much as he’d ever desired anyone or anything in this life.

  When he pushed his cock into Rahal’s ass, it was with a sense of coming home to a place he’d never known he missed. Rahal engulfed him and moved against him like he was half-mad with desire. If Cal fucked with more passion and enthusiasm than finesse, if his body couldn’t believe his own good fortune and became clumsy with lust at the hot, gripping sensation on his cock, on the power of Rahal’s body below him but not at all submissive, it didn’t seem to bother Rahal one bit.

  They didn’t talk once they started fucking. Didn’t kiss. Didn’t really think, at least at Cal’s end, though who knew what was going on in the baroque and quirky reaches of the felinoid’s brain. Cal’s personal universe shrank to the place where their bodies collided, but at the same time expanded to the farthest reaches of the cosmos. There was no way he could last long inside the white heat of Rahal’s body, so he snaked his hand under Rahal, gripped his cock, began to stroke in rhythm with his fucking.

  Rahal let out a wild noise that might have been a word in his native tongue or might have been a simple cry. It seemed both feral and lonely, like it was echoing across the cold depths of space to reach Cal’s ears.

  And that touched Cal in a way he hadn’t expected.

  Touched his heart, or the mass of scar tissue that passed for his heart these days, as well as his cock.

  That weird, fierce keening, as much as anything, pushed him over the edge, left him thrusting wildly until he exploded inside Rahal. Rahal quickly followed, spurting over Cal’s hand and crying out even more wildly than he had before.

  Only then, only after they both came, did they twist, their bodies still locked together, and kiss again—a softer kiss this time, without the steel-hard edge of need, but with just as much heat now that the need was sated.

  When Rahal pulled back from the kiss and let himself collapse onto the cushions, Cal’s softening cock slipping out of him, he was the first to speak. “You’re not like I expected, Viking. You’ve got the games and the moves, which I figured you would—we’re both players and we’re both good at it—but you make me connect. You and Xia both. It’s scary as hell, but I feel more alive today than I have in ages.”

  Cal nodded without saying anything. As a consulting lawman he was always moving from planet to planet, surrounded by people all the time, yet never in one place long enough to grow roots. He didn’t think of himself as lonely. But if he wasn’t, would he embrace this sense of connection, however illusory, with Rahal and Xia?

  What would Karn the Viking say to that?

  Well, Cal certainly wasn’t the only person who felt alone in a big galaxy sometimes. Karn the Viking, who also lived a rootless life, probably understood that feeling, even if he brushed it off most of the time or fended it off using sex with an attractive stranger or six. He let himself smile, found the right words at last.

  “Connecting’s the next level of play, the one where the game of skin on skin gets really interesting. You’ve been too busy with the game of politics, and you’ve forgotten how to play this one. The moves and the sex are great, but connecting is how you win the game. You said it earlier. Space is big and cold and lonely, and none of us evolved to spend as much time as we do between stars.”

  He let himself smile because it was hard not to smile at Rahal, sprawled on the stained pillows, looking soft, sated, relaxed, and still as sharp and dangerous as a Rodrantian honor-dagger.

  But he didn’t want to smile because his words cut into him even as he spoke them. Cal’s line of work, his personal game, was all about connecting without truly connecting, about engendering a trust you hadn’t really earned, to get the answers you needed. Evidently he’d gotten so good at the game that he could half fool himself, let alone deceive a major gamester. Rahal trusted him, was obviously starting to feel a little something for him after this short but weirdly intense interlude.

  Except Rahal actually trusted and liked Karn Anders, who wasn’t here at all. Trusted and liked a fabrication of a man who was using him and lying to him.

  And, marling stars, Cal Janssen, trapped inside the role he was playing, liked and trusted the man he was deceiving and the woman whose trust he’d need to betray in order to fulfill his contract.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Xia awoke in the dark and bolted into an awareness kept on the positive side of panic because she knew what to do. Knew, because they’d taught her a few valuable things along with twenty ways to murder someone three times her size, how to lie in complete silent awareness and take in her surroundings. Knew, because Gan would have been a priest of the Light except for that little problem with his temper, how to still her breath and open her senses, how to calm her racing heart, how to sort out the present moment from the snarls of her dreams and fears and past crimes.

  It didn’t always work. Sometimes the dark turned close and damp and cold, and she had to do something to escape, but usually she could figure out there was nothing to worry about other than simple lack of light.

  This time she wasn’t alone in the bed.

  It wasn’t Rita—her friend used to crawl into the bunk when Xia whimpered, until she figured out the unexpected companionship made things worse. It was someone much bigger.

  Xia’s claws flashed out. Her breathing quieted. She held herself as still as the space between star systems and listened. Smelled. Tried to remember.

  The quiet gurgle of a fountain. Biosilk sheet cradling her. A man’s snoring, charming in its own way. It sounded almost like purring, which clued her in. She felt safe enough to take a deep breath, drink in the perfume of sex and male and female sweat and the Rodrantian blue wine they’d spilled while they ate a raw-fish dish sometime after midnight. Their late night snack had reminded her of the sushi Mik liked, but it was a Mrrwr delicacy, spiced in a way that she couldn’t consciously remember eating before, but that nevertheless seemed familiar.

  Rahal had fed it to her.

  She’d eaten from his hand, he’d eaten from hers, and it had been cosmically sexy, but at the same time they’d been laughing like a couple of kids.

  In a funny way, it had almost been like hanging out with Rita. A lot more naked, but just as relaxed and comfortable. Maybe it felt so natural because he was felinoid too. That must be it. There were things they seemed to understand without much discussion.

  For instance he’d smelled a bit like Karn the Viking when she got back from checking in with her fathers and friends, and the office was perfumed with male musk, human and felinoid. That had only made her hotter because she could picture the two beautiful men together.

  A partner from another species might not have gotten that. Stars, a partner from another species might have tried to pretend he hadn’t been playing with someone else and the lie would have pissed her off. But they understood each other. Sex happened. Sex was fun. No worries.

  She’d teasingly said it would have been polite to wait for her. Rahal had laughed and assured her she’d have plenty of chances with the two of them before the Viking had to go to his next stop, and some private fun with the human if they were both inclined that way. But right now she was with Rahal and she was going to pay attention to him, not worry about the man who wasn’t there.

  And Rahal made sure she couldn’t think about much of anything except him.

  There’d been another round after the midnight snack.

  No wonder she’d fallen asleep so hard.

  She was in Rahal’s room, in a bed that dwarfed the impressive one in the guest quarters, and Rahal was next to her. She should have known that all along, she supposed, because now that she was breathing more freely, scents of mint, fur and sex embraced her. It smelled like home should smell, although her real home, as often as not, smelled like stale, recycled air and Rita’s dirty laundry.

  She was safe.


  At least from the usual dangers people worried about in the dark.

  But she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

  Rahal was warm, the kind of warm that made the darkness a welcoming, sensual place, instead of one full of bad memories. She snuggled closer. Rahal rolled from his belly to his side and without exactly waking up threw his arm and leg over her.

  Her heart raced.

  Trapped. Marling trapped by a big male body.

  She’d known there must be a reason she always avoided sleeping with her lovers. She’d just never figured out what it was. Having a man that close during sexytimes didn’t trigger fears. She was in control then because even choosing to let her partner take charge was a choice and it was one she could withdraw with fangs and claws, if necessary. But in the dark, when she wasn’t expecting it, she remembered being a kitten pinned under a grown man’s vicious body.

  Xia’s heart raced. Her claws unsheathed, though she forced herself to pull them in. This was Rahal and she didn’t want to hurt him. She tried to pull away.

  Rahal opened one green eye. “Going somewhere?”

  “Too snuggly-buggly for me.” She tried to sound flippant but she knew she failed. Given how keenly she could pick up on body language, subtle movements, even scents, she had no doubt Rahal could tell she was feeling anything but cool and sassy.

  He withdrew the arm and leg, but stayed close. “This okay?” he asked, sounding very much like he cared. “It gets cold at night sometimes, even in the palace. It’s nice to have someone nearby.”

  “Body heat’s good.” She enjoyed having him close, now that he wasn’t engulfing her. He made her darkness warmer by understanding she liked having him nearby but didn’t want to be held.

  “Body heat’s always good.” His voice had a salacious edge, but under that, Xia picked up another note that hinted that maybe for Rahal, like for her, the cold he needed to banish was internal.

  Maybe he had his own dark places. He’d just learned to deal with them better than she had. Definitely a lesson to learn.

  She let herself ease a little closer.

  “Get some sleep, kitten.” He kissed her shoulder, pulled away slightly, then draped his tail over her, offering companionable contact without confinement.

  As she started to drift off to sleep, she heard a soft rumbling, not unpleasant or menacing, but unexpected.

  She listened, seeking the source of the sound—then realized she’d heard her own purring.

  It had been so long since she’d let loose with a spontaneous purr of bone-deep contentment that it had surprised her. Rahal, already asleep, was purring as well, a sweet sound.

  Definitely something to be said for being with another felinoid. Maybe sharing a bed with someone wouldn’t be so bad, as long as that someone was Rahal.

  The next time Xia opened her eyes it was light and a ’bot was bringing in breakfast.

  She woke up still purring.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Xia had imagined all sorts of ways she might spend more time with Karn the Viking, most of them clothing optional.

  She hadn’t considered that, the next time she saw him after she’d had his cock in her mouth, they’d be doing a mission together, following up on a tip about a bunch of driftdwells forcing people into prostitution.

  Might have been awkward, if Xia did awkward where sexytimes were concerned. Okay, it was a teensy bit uncomfortable, even for her.

  They’d gotten the first com on the hotline today, which was way sooner than anyone expected. Honestly, Xia hadn’t been convinced it would work at all, not in a seedy place like Siantana.

  Of course, as Rahal had cynically commented, tips could come from rival pimps, or could be completely fabricated to get revenge on an annoying neighbor. But some of the information had been strikingly specific. It wasn’t enough information to be entirely certain, but Xia didn’t care.

  What she’d heard wasn’t even the slightest bit sexy, and it was enough to bring that film of red, the one she was starting to know all too well, to her vision. Still, there was a bit of a thrill in knowing she’d actually use her powers of mayhem for good. Pretty spiffy.

  She was torn over Rahal making Karn come along. He was piloting their unobtrusive, midpriced flyer, so she supposed that was useful. She’d never seen much point in learning to handle a personal flyer, seeing that she lived on a space freighter where everyone but her was a licensed pilot—and stars knew how many brawls she could have wound up in while crossing Siantana on foot. But she knew Rahal thought armed backup might not go amiss.

  Which she hated to admit made sense. She’d even thought about backup herself, but was afraid if she asked for it, she’d appear weak, not competent to do the job. But Rahal hadn’t presented it like she needed a bodyguard or a keeper, like some idiot smoothstyle female who’d faint at the first sign of trouble. It was more like what Gan did to Mik, and vice versa, pointing out that when you didn’t know exactly what kind of zelacxi nest you were walking into, backup was a smart plan. It kind of made her feel good that Rahal wanted to make sure she was safe. Karn was a good choice too. She wasn’t crazy about relying on someone who was basically a stranger, even if they’d shared sexytimes, but Karn had great qualifications for the job. If nothing else, he was mercenary enough to stay bought, and no one on Cibari could possibly outbid Rahal.

  And besides, she admitted as she stared at Karn’s intent face while he piloted the flyer—sadly it wasn’t a Fiero or one of the other zippy, sporty models, but the boring kind that no one would look at twice—spending nonsexy time with Karn had merits. There was a mystery to Karn the Viking, but it felt like a good mystery, as though his deep secret was he was a nice guy at heart, and Xia wanted to get to the bottom of it.

  She shook her head. What kind of space dust was that? Flirting could be a pleasant distraction from the gritty business at hand, but getting to know a guy better had never been her style. Especially not when “getting to know” wasn’t another way of saying “getting naked with”.

  Not that she wouldn’t get naked with him again in a Xylac minute. And Xylac minutes were only forty-two Standard seconds.

  Stars, what was getting into her these days? First Rahal, now Karn. Two potential repeats, two lovers whom she actually liked and wanted to get to know better. Freaky.

  Assassins after her? All in a day’s play.

  Practicing vigilante justice on a notoriously lawless planet? Sounds like fun.

  Actually valuing her lovers for more than their bodies and their entertainment value? Terrifying. Marling terrifying.

  Her tail twitched as much as it could while she was sitting down. He’ll be leaving soon. Safely off-planet and on the way to sell bombs somewhere else. Then, I’ll have to worry about only one man who should be classified as an addictive substance.

  But she wasn’t as cheered by that notion as she’d hoped.

  Time for some silly flirtation as a distraction. It always worked for her. Might be good for Karn too. Flying through the city in light traffic, he looked as focused as if he were dodging the event horizon of a black hole. It wasn’t like the flyer didn’t do the majority of the work itself, with its onboard computer and instruments.

  “If I ask really nicely,” she said in her cutest, most bubbly voice, “would you give me a lasercannon?”

  Karn actually turned his head from the monitors and viewscreen to look at her, raising his blond eyebrows. “A lasercannon? Most women ask for jewelry.”

  “Jewelry’s beautiful, but I never remember to wear it. It’s hard enough to remember clothes some days. The Malcolm could really use a lasercannon. You know, for emergencies. And blowing up the occasional asteroid for amusement,” she admitted.

  Karn smiled wearily like a parent dealing with a cute but demanding child. “It’s not every day a pretty woman asks for artillery. Might have to do it just for the nove
lty.”

  “Yay!” Oh, why not go for it? She unbuckled her safety harness, leaned across and gave Karn a big hug and smooch on the cheek. “You’re the best!”

  “Don’t know about the best, kitten, but I’m told I’m damn good.” He took one hand off the steering crescent and put it around her waist. “And if we were joyriding, I’d take this can above roof level, set it on full automatic and demonstrate.” He said it while grinning and waggling his eyebrows, making his flirtation as silly as her asking for an expensive bit of weaponry. A flash of heat in the cool blue of his eyes told her that behind his teasing lay thoughts involving him, her and naked shenanigans.

  In a Xylac minute, Karn. Unfortunately not this Xylac minute.

  Something on the console beeped and Karn muttered a few words under his breath. She didn’t recognize the language, but she knew a curse when she heard it. “We’re there,” he said, both levity and lust vanished from his voice as if they’d never been there. “Time to get into character.”

  The address the tip line had given them was a brothel.

  Whorehouses weren’t illegal in Siantana, as long as everyone was of adult age by their species’ standards and there willingly. “Good-time taxes” were one of the government’s main sources of revenue—and since the government up until now had been mostly Rahal and a few trusted cronies who were using those taxes for their own amusement, brothels, along with bars and pit-fighting venues, were encouraged. Xia had nothing against brothels on principle. A person had to earn a living, and if you could make more money on your back than you could sitting up, it made sense to go where the money was. For her, it would spoil a perfectly good hobby, but over the years, she’d met professionals of negotiable affection who seemed to enjoy their work.

  Besides sex work was a poke in the eye to the nashbets of the galaxy, which she definitely liked.

  This place was operating openly, with a big rotating holo sign advertising Best Sexytimes/Competitive Prices in Standard and several languages Xia didn’t recognize. So maybe the tip was based on a misunderstanding or a case of professional rivals trying to destroy each other. She’d miss her chance to beat up bad guys today, which would be a shame, but no one would get hurt.