Stripper: The Fringe, Book 4

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  Duster got hard just thinking about how he’d hissed crude and vulgar words to her ears as he thrust into her. “We could have gotten caught.”

  “I know. That’s what made it so exciting.”

  For a long time, Duster held her, kissing her lips and face, the curve of her neck. “It’s strange. I should be exhausted after this long day, but I’m not.”

  Diane cupped his hardening penis. “I can feel that.”

  He slid his hand between her legs. “I can feel that it’s mutual.”

  She angled close, lifted her leg, then drew him inside. He couldn’t help it— he groaned. Rather than his own fist around his prick, he found her slick passage.

  “Slower this time,” he begged.

  “We can try.” Diane rocked herself against him. Pulling with her leg, wriggling her body close, she coiled herself around him. She gripped his cock even tighter when she flexed her inner muscles.

  “Diane, that feels—”

  Whatever he wanted to say, she cut off with a kiss as she continued to tighten and release his whole damn body.

  Tearing her mouth from his, she angled her lips to his ear. “Talk dirty to me, Duster.”

  And he did. He talked until his voice grew hoarse and both of their bodies were completely released of all tensions. Duster had no idea what time it was when they finally wore themselves out and started to drift off. All he knew was that he was thoroughly satisfied. Whatever fear Diane had about having more children had apparently been resolved, which pleased him. He wanted more kids, and he didn’t want her to be afraid.

  But then that little voice, the one that always seemed to pipe up and cast doubt, wondered how a woman who had given birth could still be so…tight. The more he tried to dismiss the thought, the deeper the tiny burrs of the notion dug into his gray matter. He’d gotten a damn good look at Diane in the bathroom and when she’d been riding him. If she’d had a cesarean, there was no scar on her belly.

  His rational side spoke up and said that there were all kinds of surgeries she could have had to remove any scars or heal any damage. Berating himself for his suspicions, especially when she’d been honest with him about her fears, he rolled over, spooned up behind her and fell asleep.

  Three short beeps followed by a brief pause woke him up. Bleary-eyed, he peered down at his wrist com. Beside him, Diane stirred and sat up.

  “Well, at least he waited for a relatively decent hour.” Duster opened the com. “Good morning, Michael.”

  “I need you here at base.”

  Funny, his voice wasn’t in his usual range of extremely bossy or even mildly demanding. Michael sounded resigned, almost defeated.

  “Is Mary okay?”

  “She’s fine. I need to see you and Diane here.”

  Diane stiffened beside him, and her eyes went wide.

  “Why?” Duster didn’t like this at all. He had a terrible feeling that whatever Michael had smelled on Diane, he was about to reveal, whether Duster wanted to hear the information or not.

  “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

  “You didn’t ask, you ordered.”

  Michael sighed. “Please come to base command.”

  A chill of foreboding made Duster wrap the blankets around himself a little bit tighter. To his recollection, Michael had never acquiesced to social niceties so promptly. Whatever he had to say must have been unpleasant indeed.

  “We’ll be there, but we have to find a sitter for Scott.”

  “Bring him with you.”

  Diane clutched his hand. Short hairs bristled along Duster’s neck. “No, he can go over to the MacKays’.” After hosting their boys yesterday, Duster hoped they wouldn’t mind returning the favor.

  “That’s fine.”

  Michael’s calm acceptance only aggravated Duster’s deep-seated concern. “See you soon.” He pulled his hand away from Diane’s and flipped off his wrist com.

  “I swear, I didn’t do anything.”

  And Duster understood then what it would be like for her. Every time something came up, she would wonder what she was being accused of. So would he. There had to be a way to move past this. He couldn’t abide a lifetime of doubting her.

  “I know you didn’t.” He lifted and kissed her hand. “I trust you.”

  Her eyes went even wider than they had during Michael’s call. “You do?”

  “I do.” And he did. The choices she’d made all those years ago were the best she’d been able to do at the time. She hadn’t deliberately tried to hurt him. Diane had done her best, and he couldn’t keep that kernel of anger alive if they were going to survive as a couple. And beyond anything else, he wanted them to have a long and happy life together. “Let’s get cleaned up, have breakfast and then go and see what Michael wants.”

  Diane took a deep breath and nodded.

  “Hey, it might not be something bad.” He smiled, but it felt as false as the smile Diane flashed at him.

  After separating to shower—otherwise they’d forget all about going anywhere for a few hours—they met up in the kitchen where they ate a minimal breakfast. After talking with Sherry MacKay, Duster took Scott over, and then he and Diane entered his shuttle.

  “Relax. We’re probably making a big deal over nothing.”

  “Right. Because Michael often calls you first thing in the morning demanding you come to his office to give you good news.”

  Duster didn’t answer mainly because he didn’t know what to say. It was a short, silent ride to base. Before Diane exited, he took her hand and held it.

  “What are we waiting for?”

  “I just want a minute.”

  They sat in Scuttlebutt, holding hands, for a good five minutes. Duster wasn’t trying to drag things out as much as he was trying to center himself for what was coming. One way or another, he knew this wasn’t going to be pleasant. Perhaps this was payback for all the grief Duster had given Michael over Mary.

  “Are you ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.” Diane exited from her side, and he followed suit on his side. They met up at the back end of the shuttle and again joined hands.

  After clearing security and working their way along the massive hallways, they finally made their way to Michael’s office. The two guards on duty were obviously expecting them, because they opened the double-hung doors without being asked.

  Michael was sitting behind his desk rather than on top. Duster couldn’t decide if that was bad or good. His hopes sank when he realized Michael had emptied his office of guards. All the op-pans were off. The silence was the loudest thing Duster had ever heard.

  Michael looked up when they entered. “Thank you for coming.” He nodded to the two chairs in front of his desk.

  After seating Diane, Duster moved his chair closer to her and settled in. “What’s this all about?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Michael opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Diane clenched her hands into fists but kept them from Duster’s sight by hiding her hands in the voluminous folds of her dress. Michael couldn’t see her lap from behind his desk, which was good, but she mainly didn’t want Duster to know how angry and afraid she was.

  When Michael continued to sit silently looking at the two of them, she balled her fists tighter as if to prepare herself for the worst. She thought Michael was only delaying to torment her.

  Duster reached over and firmly took her hand in his. He smiled at her and nodded sharply as if to say whatever it was, they were united. She wanted to return that sentiment, but she couldn’t. Michael said he would stand back and watch her destroy her dreams, but apparently it wasn’t happening fast enough for him.

  Turning her attention to Michael, she was surprised by what she discovered. After a long moment of really looking at him, Diane realized whatever he thought he knew didn’t seem to fill him with joy. If Michael had something on her, he’d be beyond thrilled to give that information to Duster, but Michael wasn’t gloating. If anything, he lo
oked sad.

  “I have a vile reputation because I earn it.” Michael stood, forcing both of them to crane their heads back. “More often than not, I act first and consider the consequences later.”

  “What did you do?” Duster’s hand tightened around hers, and she squeezed back.

  Michael walked away from his desk, his hands clasped behind his back. “I wanted to destroy you, Diane.” After a beat of silence, he turned and faced her. “I was so convinced you would hurt Duster again that I was willing to help you do it.”

  Her heart didn’t know whether to speed up or stop, so it seemed to be trying to do both simultaneously.

  “What did you do, Michael?” This time, Duster’s voice had a sharp edge. He clutched her hand so hard she uttered a cry and pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry,” Duster said to her while keeping his gaze on Michael.

  “I smelled something on Diane, and I wanted to prove that I was right, so I sent my operatives to the hospital on Dahank.”

  Fear melted into utter confusion. The only thing Michael would have found there was the truth behind her difficult birth with Scott.

  Duster flashed her a curious glance, but she was relieved to find not one trace of hostile suspicion. What Duster had said earlier seemed to be true—he trusted her. And in that moment, she knew whatever was coming they would face together.

  Returning to his desk, Michael touched a small pile of papers. “I wanted to expose you.” Golden-brown eyes drilled right into her eyes with such intensity she almost winced. “I wanted Duster to know that you hadn’t changed one bit.”

  “Damn it, Michael.”

  Michael cut him off by raising his hand.

  Diane struggled to take a breath. “I never meant to hurt him or you.”

  “I know.”

  Diane felt as if the ground had suddenly shifted. “What?” Had she gotten this wrong and Michael was actually forgiving her?

  “I went looking for indisputable truth to the accusation that I had kept to myself. I thought if I had proof, Duster would have no choice but to believe me and cast you out.”

  As much as she didn’t want to ask, she found herself asking, “Proof of what?”

  At that, Michael dropped his gaze to the reports. “I found what I was looking for, but I also found out you didn’t know.”

  “Stop dancing around like this, Michael.” Duster rose and yanked the reports off his desk before Michael could stop him. Rapidly, he flipped through the pages. “Blah, blah, blah, it’s all a bunch of medical crap that doesn’t mean diddly to…” His voice trailed off as he focused on the tail end of the report. “Oh God.”

  From her vantage point, Diane couldn’t read the tiny print. “What does it say?”

  Very slowly, Duster restacked the pages. He pressed his lips together, then met her gaze. His eyes were watering. And then he did the same thing Michael had done—he opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  “What does it say?” She reached for the reports, but he pulled them away.

  “I’m sorry.” Michael’s voice was quiet and almost unbearably miserable.

  Duster looked at Michael. Their eyes met and held.

  “I really am.”

  Duster shook his head. “You should have left this alone.”

  “I realize that now.” Michael’s voice was very soft. Obviously, he was deeply troubled by what he’d found. Diane’s heart sank. Michael was saddened by what he’d found, not what he’d done.

  Diane lunged for the papers in Duster’s hand, yanked them out of his grasp, then moved away to read them. It was a detailed account of Scott’s birth from the moment she’d entered the IWOG hospital to when she’d been transferred to her regular hospital.

  “Why do they have me listed as indigent?” Diane had paid the enormous bill, in credits, once she’d recovered from the emergency caesarian. She’d hated paying them for the mess they’d left behind. It had taken thousands of dollars to repair the hideous scar their butcher of a doctor created across her belly. And then she found her way to the last page. Here was the answer to Michael’s sorrow, Duster’s pain and her own worst nightmare.

  “Tubectomy.” Diane read the word aloud, but it took a moment for the meaning to sink in. Her horror was so profound she felt numb. The rest of the words slipped through the block she tried to erect. They had done this procedure to her due to her indigent status. “But I wasn’t poor. I paid. I always paid my bills.” She repeated this several times, as if this would change what had been done to her against her will.

  Duster took the pages from her unresisting hand.

  Afraid to look at him, she kept her gaze on the floor. He wanted children so badly. She’d overcome her fear only to find out they’d taken the choice away from her.

  “IWOG hospitals have a long history of sterilizing indigent mothers,” Michael said.

  “But I—”

  “I know.” Michael’s voice was quiet and kind. “When you came in, you were incoherent, bleeding, and they were told you were found by the trans tracks.”

  “They just assumed I wouldn’t pay.”

  Michael nodded. “They realized their error after Sheldon brought your bonafides to the hospital.”

  “By that time, it was too late.” Diane remembered switching hospitals, and her regular doctor’s horror at the stitches along her belly, but he’d told her there was nothing to be done until she healed. Had she been able to get to him, she would have had laser surgery that would have left almost no marks. And of course, he couldn’t see what they’d done to her while they were in there. Diane hadn’t gone back to her regular doctor for the scar removal but to the plastic surgeon he’d recommended. “Wouldn’t my doctor have been given the paperwork?”

  “It’s listed as being performed on a Jane Doe patient. They didn’t transfer it over to your bonafides.”

  “Of course not. Then I’d have proof of their butchery.” She wanted to ask how he knew the Jane Doe was her, but Michael wouldn’t have brought the information forth if he couldn’t prove his accusation beyond a doubt. This Jane Doe was her. “You smelled this on me?” Finally she lifted her gaze to Michael.

  Hands on his desk, leaning over with his gaze riveted to her, his face was solemn. “As strange as it sounds, yes. But I thought you had willingly undergone the procedure.”

  No wonder he’d pushed to find proof. It was the one thing that would destroy her relationship with Duster. Even though it wasn’t her choice, she still couldn’t face him. She didn’t want to discover the way he looked at her had changed. All those hopes and dreams, all those fears, all of it meaningless now.

  “But don’t lose hope.” Michael didn’t smile, but he tried to look less grim. “There are things that can be done.” He took another stack of reports and offered them out to Duster.

  When Duster refused to take them, Diane thought her heart would break right then and there. Even though Michael swore he hadn’t done this to split them up, she realized he may well have, even inadvertently. As Duster turned his back on her, she felt everything slipping away.

  And then Michael did the last thing she would have ever expected. He came around from behind his desk and took Duster into his arms. Duster clung to him, and Diane realized he hadn’t turned his back to cut her but to hide the fact that he was crying. He didn’t want either of them to see, but Michael refused to let him suffer alone. When her eyes met Michael’s, he motioned her over, and the three of them stood in a tiny circle, hugging one another.

  For a long time, no one moved, but eventually, Michael let go, and Duster embraced her.

  “I am so sorry.” Duster buried his face against her neck.

  “Me too.” Diane squeezed him hard. “But it’s not hopeless.”

  Duster pulled back enough for her to see his bloodshot gaze.

  “I’m not going to give up hope this time.” If anything, she was going to have another child with Duster if she had to walk through fire to do so.

  It took a moment, but eventu
ally Duster straightened. “Neither one of us is giving up hope this time.”

  She nodded. “We’ll find a way.”

  “We will.”

  “As strange as this might seem, I’m glad we found out now.” The look Duster flashed her was so dubious she blurted, “Think of how much worse this would have been had we tried for years and years only to discover it was pointless.”

  Reluctantly, Duster nodded. He glanced at Michael. “But don’t think I’m going to thank you.”

  Michael shook his head. “No. I wish I had left this alone. But now that you know, there are things you can do.” Michael tapped the papers on his desk. “Doc Murphy is a veritable font of information on the subject. And you know that I will do everything in my power to help you. Both of you.”

  Diane realized the rift between her and Michael had finally been healed. Her relief was great. She did not relish living on a world ruled by a man who utterly despised her. It was unlikely they would ever be close, but at least they wouldn’t be at each other’s throats. Putting aside their differences would also be a blessing to Duster, since he wouldn’t have to play mediator anymore.

  “The question is, are you willing?” Diane waited breathlessly for Duster to answer.

  “Gee, let me think—yes.” A determined glint flashed in his eyes. “I kept telling you that you should have held out hope all those years ago, so I’m going to do that now.” After a gentle kiss, he added, “We can handle this. If we’re together, we can handle anything.”

  “Together.” Diane knew an arduous journey lay ahead, but she also knew they would prevail.

  Epilogue

  “Be careful what you wish for.” Duster was still reeling from the information. Never in all his wildest dreams had he imagined this outcome.

  “I need to sit down.” Diane sounded as stunned as he felt.

  “Diane, honey, you are sitting down.”

  The two of them were seated in Doc Murphy’s office. The man himself sat behind a desk that was strewn with papers and a collection of medical models. The surface of his desk looked like the aftermath of an explosion between a filing cabinet and a busload of mannequins.