When he could move, he swam out into the open air, towing her with him. He turned to float with her on his chest, his hand moving lazily on her back. “Best shower I ever had.”
She hmmed with pleasure and lifted her head to smile shyly. “Me too.”
Gazing into her green eyes, still pink from her weeping, her face and hair sleeked with water, Creed felt his heart give an odd clench. A kind of pleasure pain. He tipped his forehead against hers, unable to formulate words. What was happening here? Something.
Something important.
Chapter Thirteen
Creed watched as the spaceship crew battled the giant Alzertian space leech, which had been placed on their craft by an enemy hoping to steal the ship. They were down to only two crew members; the captain and the cook, a lovely woman whose enhanced breasts had burst free from the remains of her snug spacesuit early in the fight. Blood and slime streaked her sculpted cheekbones, and one shoulder. The captain, a muscular fellow with a dashing grin, was similarly marked, although neither of them had any visible wounds.
With a horrible sucking sound, the space slug writhed further into the nav center, baring concentric rows of sharp, curving teeth, covered in the blood of dead crew members. The image was up close and life-size, as Creed had an excellent holovid setup.
“Get behind me,” the captain ordered, laser at the ready.
“Quark that,” the woman retorted. “If I’m going to die, I’ll do it at your side, not cowering behind you like a child.”
The captain gave her an appreciative grin.
Creed moved restively in the comfortable cushions of his deep sofa. “Shut up and laser the quarking leech,” he muttered.
The captain finally raised his weapon.
Behind Creed, a piercing scream sliced through the room, followed by a loud crash and the clatter of serving ware. Creed shot off the sofa, whirling, ready to fight whatever menaced his home and his woman. Or chase off the mawwr again.
Taara stood in the open doorway of his study, a serving tray vertical in her hands. The floor around her was littered with bowls, napkins, two carafes and spilled popped grains. His favorite, caramel and cheese mix, he noted peripherally, even as he relaxed, straightening from his fighting stance. She was frozen in disgust and horror, but she was staring at the holovid, not some intruder.
He’d left her sleeping in his bed, after fucking her until she called his name not once, but twice. He’d come with her the second time. He’d rolled onto his back feeling as good as if he’d conquered a whole nest of pirates single-handedly. Like some kind of hero.
After waiting for her to wake, though, he got restless and decided to watch a holovid.
Now he grabbed his com and broke the hololink. The holovid winked out, along with the loud, slimy death throes of the space leech.
“Wh-what was that?” she breathed, her face still wrinkled in revulsion. “I knew you had a holovid on, but I thought it was just an adventure vid.”
Creed grinned. “That? An Alzertian space leech. And it was an adventure vid.”
She shuddered, her look now beseeching. “How can you watch that kind of thing? Please tell me there are really not creatures like that in the galaxy.”
He considered this. “Don’t think so. Could be, I suppose.” It was a big galaxy.”What’s this?”
She looked down, her mouth drooping. “Oh. I brought you a snack, since we missed dinner.”
“No, I ate. Didn’t want to wake you, you were sleeping so deeply.”
He gave her a smug look, remembering why she’d been so worn out. Her cheeks pink, she looked away, but she was smiling.
Levering himself over the back of the sofa, he squatted to begin cleaning up the remains of what looked like a great snack. There were even two hot drink carafes, luckily lidded as they now lay on their sides. He scooped up a handful of the grains. They smelled good. The floor was pretty clean, as the cleaning droid went through every afternoon.
He lifted the fat, savory grains toward his mouth, then dropped them when Taara smacked him on the shoulder.
“Hey. What was that for?”
“Don’t eat off the floor,” she said sternly. “There’s more in the kitchen. Secondly, you just violated the code.”
Creed watched wistfully as she scooped spilled grains tidily into the bowl with a napkin. Code? There was a code for situations like your woman walking in on a not great, but pretty good action vid and temporarily losing her mind?
He waited, not knowing what she was going to say next, but knowing it was probably going to be some quirky wisdom of that feminine quadrant of the galaxy he could never hope to navigate, but she seemed to zip in and out with bewildering ease.
“The male code,” she said with certainty. “When a woman asks you if some horrible danger—manufactured for the sole purpose of scaring the panties off anyone in the vicinity—could be real, you say ‘No, no, honey. There could never be a creature like that in this galaxy. Never.’“
Since she said this last part with her sweet voice pitched low, in a faux masculine tone, he grinned again. But he nodded. “Got it.”
Then he grabbed a big handful of the popped grains and stuffed it in his mouth, crunching with relish.
She frowned at his action, but then waited expectantly. “What?” he mumbled. The grain tasted every bit as good as he’d remembered. Better, maybe, because she’d prepared it. He grabbed another handful from the bowl.
She pulled the bowl away. “You have to say it.”
“No, caramel girl,” he quoted solemnly. “There could never be a creature like that in the galaxy. Never. But even if there was, it’d never get near you, ‘cause I’d kick its ass to the seventh hell.”
Her gaze softened. She paused, the bowl near enough for him to grab some more grains. “Caramel girl?” she whispered.
He nodded. Then, leaning forward onto one hand, he moved slowly but with intent into her space. He brought his knee forward, then his other hand, crowding her.
When their faces were so close he could feel her warm, sweet breath on his face and smell her unique fragrance, he whispered, “Honey’s okay. Caramel, now, I like it a lot. You’re every bit as sweet.”
He slid one hand behind her back and pulled her forward through the mess of spilled grain and dishes into the vee of his thighs.
“I got a taste for caramel,” he said and kissed her.
When she was squirming against him in that impatient, needy way he liked so much, he moved his hand lower, over her ass, round and firm under sleek fabric.
“One question, though,” he said against her mouth. “Did it really scare your panties off?”
She giggled quietly. “Guess you’ll just have to find out.”
It hadn’t, but he had them off in just a few minutes. He lifted her onto the sofa, because the floor was covered in popped grains. Then he put his mouth on her, and got her excited and then came up on the sofa over her, and into her. This time he wanted her to come with him inside her.
She wrapped her arms and her legs around him, and hung on, rising up to meet his thrusts with the same breathless attitude of near desperation he felt himself, so he guessed she liked this too.
“Oh, Creed, “ she breathed in his ear. “Oh. You’re so big, so hard.”
Creed gritted his teeth. Think about quasiball. The leech in the holovid. No, not that. He didn’t want to go limp as a cooked veg. The mine—that was it. Loading up cars with ore. Droids loading cars with the precious ore, while vacs sucked the volatile dust from the air. Loading one car. Loading two cars. Loading three cars.
“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, Creed. Oh-hhh.” Her words devolved into one of her sweet moans and then he felt her pussy grab at his cock, sucking at him like a hungry mouth.
“Ah, sweet heaven,” he groaned. “Ah, fuck. Yes.”
He fell into the maelstrom of their combined orgasms, nearly unable to bear the pleasure.
As he came back to himself, he opened his eyes and look
ed down at her, lying curled around him on his big sofa, the smell of sex and caramel corn in the air. He could get accustomed to this. Fucking her in his pool, in his bed, now in his sitting room. In fact, he could get to craving it like his next breath.
This was what Nels had, what family men had. A house of their own with a woman in it, warm and soft, to hold them at the end of a hard day of work, and the beginning of it too.
He did not know, but he suspected, this was what a home felt like.
He heard a soft crunching sound and his woman’s eyes flew open. “What is that?”
Creed withdrew from her with regret and knelt to look over the back of the sofa. He grinned. “Just some help cleaning up.”
Her eyes narrowed. “It’s back, isn’t it? That furry menace.”
He nodded. “Yup.” The mawwr was crouched on the floor, munching caramel corn. And it was not alone.
Taara pulled her top down, trying without success to cover her bare ass, and popped up beside him. Her eyes widened. “Oh, my stars. She has a baby.” Her voice had already softened.
Creed watched another furry bundle scoot out from under the sofa. “Make that two.”
Taara sighed. “Well, I guess I can’t blame a mother for trying to feed her children.”
The two little ones seemed more intent on chasing the popped corn than anything else. “They’re likely still nursing. She’s feeding three—them and herself.”
“I wonder where they live.”
He knew where they lived, because he set out food and water for them. “Out back, in the arboretum.” She gave him a look, and he shrugged. “Keeps the rocks rats out of the house, that’s all I care about.”
“Right,” she muttered, but she was smiling at him again, as if he’d done something wonderful. Huh. No telling what was going to please her. Or piss her off.
Kept a man on edge, but not, he reflected, in an altogether bad way. Fascinating, that’s what she was. Better than a holovid. She was as much fun as a good quasiball match, and that was saying something.
“What are you grinning about?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
He lifted his hand, ran it over the back of his head. “Ah, nothing. How’s about we get some more popped grains and have those drinks?”
“Okay.” She hopped off the sofa, shimmied back into her tights and hurried off to the kitchen.
Creed cleaned up the rest of the caramel corn, and set it out on the deck for the mawwr, who with her babies scampering after her, followed him outside. He gave her a quick stroke on the back, and pulled the door shut behind him as he sauntered back into his house.
He felt good. The best he remembered feeling in ... forever. His heart gave that odd squeeze again, and he rubbed a hand over it, staring at two little embroidered flats lying discarded by the sofa.
Maybe he should see how Taara felt about staying here for a while. Making this an exclusive arrangement.
She liked him and he certainly liked her. She’s been with a lot of other men, true. He’d certainly never seen himself with a woman this experienced. Of course he’d never really pictured what kind of woman he’d end up with. Shied away from the whole idea so hard he’d blocked out what he was looking for in a mate.
Living with a woman meant intimacy. Intimacy meant trusting her with the pieces of himself he’d subjugated his entire adult life, until revealing them seemed weak somehow, childish. Although Joran managed it, with his women. Living with a nomadic band meant that after a time everyone knew their leader’s secrets. Creed lived here, where he could shut everyone out. Now she was in, and it wasn’t bad. It was sweet.
He’d learned what he wanted in a mate too—she had to be pretty, sexy and have a smile that lighted up a room, a laugh that tickled his skin and settled warm inside him. She had to feel like sex personified in his arms, with soft breasts and a round ass. She had to be feisty, not afraid to go toe to toe with him when she was mad, but be sweet and needy when they were fucking.
Would she want to stay? She seemed to like it here, got along with Lani, Nels and Nikk. She could visit the city whenever she wanted, ferry in with Coy or one of the other pilots Logan kept on staff. Or he could take her sometimes. Going to Frontiera City wasn’t his favorite things, but women needed to shop, needed other women. Maybe she and Kiri could be friends. They could spend time with her and Logan.
He’d sleep on it, and talk to her tomorrow. This settled, Creed sprawled on his sofa and waited for his woman to come back, a smile of anticipation on his face.
Chapter Fourteen
Daanel was also relaxing, on the luxe sofa in his new Frontiera City condo, with drinks, hors d’oeuvres and a lover. They’d met at The Three Moons, a fun little bar on the beach and with one look, had fallen in lust. Tony now spent his weekends in the city with Daanel.
When Daanel’s comlink chimed, he gave it a desultory glance. Then he perked up.
“Oh, goodie. My cousin. She’s on a buying trip on Serpentia.” He settled back against Tony’s broad shoulder to open the link.
Tony, a tech on the new satcom system, frowned. “No, she’s not.”
“She’s not what?” Daanel cocked his head back to look quizzically up at Tony.
“She’s not on Serpentia.”
Daanel snorted. “Yes, she is—I just told you.”
“No, see this?” Tony pointed at a small, translucent symbol near the bottom right edge of Taara’s smiling image. “That’s the signature of this link; its origin. You wouldn’t know what it was unless you’re a tech, like me. Coming from on planet.”
“Are you sure? It just looks like any old planet icon to me.”
“No. See these three tiny dots on the outline? Those are our moons. Like I said, it’s tech shorthand and so tiny not many even know it’s there. But babe, I’m sorry. Should I not have said anything?”
Daanel stared at the link. “Taara lied to me?” He sat up. “Tony, something’s going on. She’s in trouble, she must be.”
“Hey, gorgeous, people lie all the time. Maybe she’s just back early and she’s with some guy. Or girl.”
“Not my Taary.”
“Right. So, you want to find her?”
“Can you do that?”
Tony preened. “Be a snap, babe.”
“Oh, goddess, thank you.”
“Just remember it next time your mouth is near my cock. Ow!” He flinched and rubbed his muscular thigh where Daanel had smacked him. “What was that for?”
Daanel glared at him, a wounded look in his green eyes. “This is serious. Now go, go, go!”
“Right.”
Several moments later, Tony pumped his fist in the air. “Got her. She’s at a ... mine.” He and Daanel gave each other a look of mutual incomprehension.
“A what?”
“LodeStone Mine, in the mountains east of here. Irridium mine.”
Daanel surged off the sofa. “Did you say LodeStone? Oh, my God, LodeStone, LodeStar. This has something to do with Stark.”
Tony raised his brows. “Logan Stark?”
Daanel nodded.
Tony shook his head. “Honey, you don’t want to go up against him. He’s big.”
Daanel planted his hands on his narrow hips. “Not too big to answer to an angry Serpentian. Just you wait.”
Tony started to chuckle, but hid it quickly behind his hand, coughing. “Right.”
* * *
Taara sat at her drafting table. She’d finally nerved herself up to get back to her design work.
Last night, for some reason, she’d had an amazing dream in which she walked into Creed’s sitting room. He’d looked at her with awe and admiration, because she’d been wearing a gown, an amazing gown, in pale silvery tones and uneven layers.
‘You’re my irridium girl,” he’d said. ‘Pretty as that ore.’ She’d basked in his admiration, until the gown had begun to pinch and hurt, and she’d looked down to realize that it had pieces of actual irridium ore woven into the fabric. The sharp edges w
ere cutting into her skin.
She wakened to find herself tangled in her sheets. But the dream wouldn’t leave her, and finally she’d sat down with her comlink to bring up a holovid modelbot and work up a rough facsimile of the gown in her dream. This had proved such good therapy that she looked at her work in satisfaction and saved it in her files.
But now, she was instead thinking about Creed. Picturing his face when he gave her that certain mischievous look, his face solemn but blue eyes dancing. She hunched her shoulders in delight.
Then her smile slipped away and she bit her lip, guilt writhing in her belly with even more force than usual. She had to find a way to tell him the truth about why she was here ... and soon. But oh, she feared doing so. Feared seeing that remote look on his face, the one he’d given that man when he’d told him he was done, that his mistake had cost him employment with LodeStone.
Creed was a hard man, carved by his life and occupation. He might have a soft spot for little felines and for the people he cared about, but would she fall on that side, or on the other? The side that got the ‘one mistake and you’re out’? The side that cut like a gown made of real irridium.
Then she tipped her head into her hands and closed her eyes, shame burning under her skin. She was trying to put the onus on Creed. Make him the outside force that was pushing her, forcing her to behave. And that was not fair to him.
She was the one who was afraid. Like a sand lizard, darting under the nearest rock at the first sign of trouble and cowering there until all was still again. As a girl, she’d been entertained by the tiny creatures with the luminous green eyes. Now, not so much. Now, she sympathized with them. But it was time to stop behaving like one.
Creed was a good man. He’d been kind to her, been caring and thoughtful, and he kissed her as if she was precious, made love to her as if she was the only woman on the planet.
Surely he would understand if she told him the truth. It wasn’t as if she were lying maliciously, or trying to steal from him. He thought she was a prostitute, well, she was in a way. And she was through being afraid of the truth of how she’d come to do it.
Creed of Pleasure; the Space Miner's Concubine (The LodeStar Series) Page 15
