“If I do not return for you soon, run and do not look back.”
She was about to protest. He could see it in the defiant tilt of her chin and the flare of anger in her eyes, but he cut her off by fusing his mouth over hers. She moaned and melted into his arms, obviously enjoying the kiss. Her body was hot and her breathing rough as he kissed her lush mouth hard and fast.
His cock pulsed and swelled as he thought about removing his loincloth, pulling down her garment and plunging into her warm, tight sweetness. She would welcome his cock inside her. Soft whimpers arose deep in her throat as he firmly pressed his erection against her lower belly.
She parted her lips and pressed her tongue boldly into his mouth. When their tongues clashed, his knees just about melted as arousal exploded through him. Before he lost himself in the intoxicating sexual insanity, he forced himself to break the kiss.
They were both breathing hard in the darkness and he hoped to the Goddess of Freedom no one was nearby, for they would surely hear.
In the darkness, she took a breath as if to speak. Instead she smiled and touched a finger to a scar that ran along his upper chest. He had no idea how she could see it. Or perhaps she was going merely by the line of the raised welt, but her finger ignited an arrow of fire. He needed to explore this sensation if he returned.
“Be safe,” she whispered and dropped her finger.
The loss of her touch left him oddly cold and so alone as he stepped away and jogged off into the nearby jungle.
Chapter Seven
The knife Taylor gave her was heavy and cold in Kayla’s hand. Could she use it if she had to? Sure, she’d been taught self-defense before coming on this mission, but it had all been simulated. This was the real deal and it scared the shit out of her. Just like watching Taylor disappear into the darkness.
She hadn’t really been too frightened when he’d been with her, but the instant he’d gone fear wrapped around her like a smothering blanket. She should have insisted she go with him, as backup. She gripped the handle of the knife tighter and peered into blackness.
No sights. No sounds. He’d vanished like a ghost. Like he’d never been here. Like he didn’t even exist.
The thought of slipping into the night and just leaving him entered her mind. Not because she thought he might hurt her, but because of the way she reacted around him.
Dependant.
She’d never liked that word. Never liked being dependant on anyone. At an early age she’d struck out on her own, much to her parents’ disappointment. They’d liked having their kids around. A big, happy family. Everyone living in the same town. Everyone within walking distance for visits.
Man! How were her parents holding together with all their kids in space? Knowing their kids may not return yet having to follow her brothers’ private instructions and keep this mission a secret from friends and even NASA, so NASA wouldn’t send out search parties.
She would kill her brothers when she found them. The idiots. Why keep Paradise a secret? Why pretend they were dead? Why not let their parents contact NASA and have them send a search party to let the inhabitants of Paradise know they were not alone in the universe? And pick up her stupid brothers while they were at it?
She blew out a slow, agonizing breath of concern. What was taking Taylor so long? Shouldn’t he be back by now? She hadn’t even thought to ask how far this shelter of his might be.
Everything had happened so fast. One minute he’d been showing her the pretty golden sunset and the next she’d been touching a scar on his chest, telling him to be safe and kissing the guy goodbye.
Frustration swept through her and she almost cried out. What if he never came back? What if she never saw him again? If he didn’t, she knew what to do. She would go where he’d said. But what about him? What if something terrible happened to him?
God, why did men have to be such idiots and go off on their own without realizing their women might be worried about them?
Sweet mercy! She was not his woman! She’d just met the guy for crying out loud.
Okay, focus, Kayla. Stop being an idiot and get a grip. Panicking now is not an option.
She forced herself to concentrate on the night sounds. A light breeze made a clicking as it whispered through the dense foliage. Far away in the distance came the distinct murmur of thunder.
Okay, he’d mentioned storms. She could handle a storm. What she couldn’t handle was getting recaptured by those women or those creepy Death Valley Boys.
A soft sob escaped her mouth. Another thing she couldn’t handle was losing Taylor. Terror for his safety once again lashed at her and she shifted the knife into her other hand.
And waited for him to return.
* * * * *
He was risking his life being so close to the intruders who sat huddled in front of a blazing fire beneath the tree shelters, but at least he could see them.
There were two males and two females. No sign of the third male, nor any sign of Jarod and Piper. Either they had left before this party arrived, escaping into the woods, or they were being held in the tree house by the third male.
He recognized their faces. They came from Death Valley. Perhaps this was a hunting party. Or maybe word had gotten out that a male and female had escaped the trip to Death Valley and this party was tracking him and Kayla.
The males spoke in hushed voices to each other—virtually ignoring the females—bringing back memories of his life with the Death Valley Boys and the Slave Uprising. He shuddered as he remembered the day it had all started.
The terrorized screams of naked women being hauled out of their dwellings and forced onto the dusty ground. Laughing males, throwing themselves upon crying females, uncaring of their terror or pleas for mercy.
He’d never taken part in the rapes. He’d tried to stop some of them by yelling and fighting with the males, reminding them this was not the intention of their leader at the time—his friend Jarod.
They’d merely laughed at him.
Subsequently, he and Jarod had been recaptured by the female Cath. She had been one of the females who’d been gang raped…for days. She’d been changed by her experience. Upon her escape, she had turned bitter and evil. She’d begun sending out search parties to hunt down as many males as possible. He and Jarod had been caught, both of them tortured, forced to have sex with Cath.
Jarod had lost his eye, a small payback from Cath. And Taylor’s leg had been broken in several places when Cath had taken a long metal pole to his bound body. But the two of them—along with a friend, Blackie—managed to escape and had taken refuge with the Death Valley Boys.
Taylor came back to the present when a twig snapped lightly behind him. His hand went for the knife in his scabbard and he remembered he’d given it to Kayla. He hoped she was long gone as these males wouldn’t think twice about raping her.
He sensed movement nearby and prepared to crouch lower into the ferns, but the kiss of a knife pressed against his throat.
Shit. The curse came naturally, although he didn’t like the word. He’d heard it repeated on several occasions, usually when a Hero brother had been angry.
“Not a sound, male. Move to the campfire,” a voice hissed in his ear.
Taylor recognized him. He was a brute who called himself King, but Taylor had never known the male’s true name or from which hub he’d escaped.
Taylor swallowed against the unease clamping around him. He did not worry for his safety, but for Kayla’s. If these males knew he was the one who escaped the breeders with Kayla, they would fan out and catch her.
He made a stab at diplomacy. “I am unarmed.”
“And I am armed. Do as I say.”
So much for diplomacy.
Slowly he stepped through the ferns, treading carefully so as not to startle the party around the campfire. The instant he drew into the firelight, he braced himself as the two males immediately dove for their weapons. The females, on the other hand, did nothing. They both looked at him wit
h blank stares, as if totally uncaring for their safety.
Many of the females ended up that way in captivity. Their loss of freedom and denial of any tenderness toward them by the males turned them into listless beings. Taylor tried hard not to care one way or another about the lost souls, but he could not stem the guilt, the raw pain or remorse for having been a part of the Slave Uprising—which had not gone according to Jarod’s well-laid plan. A plan where no woman was supposed to have been injured in any way.
“Look what the Goddess of Freedom has sent to us.” King chuckled as he shoved Taylor closer to the fire.
Recognition flared in one of the male’s eyes. Samson, if Taylor remembered correctly. “Taylor! Thought you were dead. And what of your friend, Jarod?” he asked.
He seemed genuinely pleased to see Taylor, but these males would easily kill if they chose, no matter how friendly they appeared. The fact he was inquiring after Jarod brought Taylor great relief. This meant his friend and the female had left and were most likely safe.
Most of the males who’d escaped during the Uprising held anger inside their hearts toward the females, but Taylor had been away from Death Valley and the rage for so long now, he’d almost forgotten how easily they did, in fact, hide their anger.
“We parted a long time ago,” he lied.
“Come and sit by the fire. We have females to tend to you.”
The one called King gave him another hard shove, making his weak leg almost collapse as he stumbled to the fire and sat where Samson patted the dusty ground beside him.
“Get this male some food and drink,” Sampson ordered the female closest to him.
Immediately she stood. She had been very young when the males had taken her in the Valley. A queen-in-training. A virgin. Her blue eyes looked haunted now. Her body thin, as if she hadn’t eaten properly.
But these males didn’t care. They ate until their bellies were full and left scraps for their females. Nausea rolled in his stomach as he noticed the thin lines woven through areas of the woman’s body. Knife scars in intricate designs around her breasts, her lower belly and thighs. She disappeared into the darkness without a word.
“Tend to this male’s cock while he waits for his meal,” King ordered the other female.
It was Death Valley tradition for a slave to give service. The females would tend to a guest anytime he pleased or anytime his host wished.
Taylor stiffened as the petite brunette scrambled over to sit beside him. She fared little better than the other female. Her short dark hair was tangled and matted. Her eyes glassed-over as she obediently reached for the strip of his breechclout.
He pushed her hands away.
The males grumbled angrily.
”I would prefer after the meal,” Taylor quipped, trying to keep his voice lighthearted. Truth was, he didn’t want this female touching him—or any female except Kayla.
At the thought of her, frightened in the dark and unfamiliar surroundings, waiting for him to return, a jolt of unease gripped him. He hoped she did not come looking for him. Hoped she obeyed his instructions and began to follow the river. If she remembered how to get to it.
Stop it! She is a strong female and she will do what needs to be done to survive.
“Ah, here is the food,” the third male, whom Taylor didn’t recall, muttered impatiently.
The female served all of them with an abundance of fruits, nuts and dried meat on wooden plates. Plates Taylor recognized as the ones Jarod had fashioned when they had first come to this place. It irritated him, having these nasty males using their dishes, but he maintained a cool outer calm. The Boys would soon ask him questions. Questions he preferred to avoid, but could not.
He ate quickly and quietly, hoping the female hadn’t been instructed to put some sort of drug into his food. They could all be acting, knowing that Taylor was one of the escaped slaves. But he dare not refuse the food as per tradition. Denying food from the Boys was considered ruder than denying the female. The last thing he wanted to do was piss them off. They looked tense enough already.
Three to one, not the best of odds. Then he had to consider the two females, who may have been trained to protect their captors.
They were halfway through the meal when the questions began.
“The Boys were very upset when you and Jarod decided to leave the way you did,” Samson said coolly.
“No one leaves the Boys,” the nameless one muttered angrily.
“You said that right, Dirk,” replied King, his gaze pinned to Taylor. Yes, this one was still very angry. Dangerous. It would be best if he escaped as quickly as possible, but he needed to give Kayla a bit of a head start. That is, if she’d decided to leave already.
“Once a Boy always a Boy. You knew that when we took you, Jarod and Blackie in after Cath and her women had their way with you.”
Taylor said nothing, opting to nod slowly in agreement and pretend he was enjoying the food too much to answer. But the Boys wouldn’t let up.
“Jarod was in Death Valley many days ago,” King let the sentence hang and Taylor tried not to react as a cold chill ripped through him.
Were they telling the truth? Had Jarod gone to Death Valley? And what of the female Piper?
No, Jarod would not go there willingly. Not with her. He must have been captured.
“I’m glad to hear he has found his way back home,” Taylor said, choosing his words very carefully as the three males watched him.
Their faces were partially hidden by the shadows of the night, but the rest of their bodies were illuminated by the fire. Taylor did not like the way they tensed or the flare of hatred in one of the male’s eyes. An eerie shiver slithered through him like a snake, warning him of impending danger.
“He left again,” King replied coolly. “Escaped in the night with a petite female. A female we had eagerly wished to fuck. We would have too had he not had inside help in escaping.”
Relief poured through him. Jarod and Piper had escaped. With luck they would be safely with the Heroes by now, tucked away in a secure shelter in anticipation of the oncoming stormy season. As if nature had tapped into his thoughts, a low rumble of thunder growled a warning far in the distance.
The Boys shifted uneasily at the ominous grumble.
“Why have you strayed so far from the Valley? Do you not know the storms will be upon us soon?” Taylor questioned and bit into a juicy, sweet melon.
“We would ask the same question of you,” King sneered as he grabbed some blackberries and shoved them into his mouth.
Taylor had anticipated this question and was fully prepared. “Have you not heard? A female and a male escaped the Breeders. I’m on my way to the area near the Acid Zone where they were last spotted.”
“And you heard this how?”
“The Breeders and I have communication. They have asked me to help track down the escaped slaves.”
Two of the males chuckled.
“They are now desperate for male assistance?” King laughed and slapped his knee.
Samson, on the other hand, frowned with a darkness Taylor did not like. “He lies. Free females want nothing to do with males.”
“They wish nothing to do with Death Valley males,” Taylor corrected, injecting a confidence he did not truly feel although he was actually speaking the truth. “Free males are beginning to establish connections with free females.” Yes, three females had taken up with the three Hero brothers, but he knew of no other couplings, except, of course, Jarod and Piper and Kayla and himself.
That is, if he could get away from here.
What he had said captured the two females’ attention. They studied him with interest.
“They fear us Death Valley Boys?” King laughed. “We’re all well-hung. We know how to pleasure a female. This is all a female is interested in. Am I right, females?”
He turned to the two females who nodded obediently. But in their eyes hope was flaring. It brought Taylor immense satisfaction.
�
��A female also wishes to be treated tenderly and with respect.”
“Respect!” Dirk stood and glared at the two females who hunched beside each other in sudden fear. “Females do not respect us! They lead us around on penis leashes. They beat us. Punish us like babies. They do not wish us to be educated. They treat us as animals. We are not animals.”
“Best act like males then,” Taylor couldn’t help but snap. “Treat your female tenderly and she will accept you in ways you never dreamed.”
The three foes glared at him. Confusion twinkled in their angry eyes.
“You speak treason,” King snarled. “Boys do not treat females tenderly. It is against the rules.”
“Rules can be changed,” Taylor said softly.
They glowered, possibly not understanding why he was behaving in this way. Defying the traditions of the Boys meant certain death.
“Rules cannot be changed by an outsider. Of which you surely are in the way you speak,” Samson said, coldness in his voice. “You will allow both females to pleasure you right here and now as per our traditions.”
Tension rippled through Taylor as he braced himself for a fight. “I am no longer a Boy. I am a free man and will remain free for the rest of my days.”
“Which you will not see another of if you continue this line of speaking.” Dirk stood and withdrew a knife from his scabbard.
Taylor swallowed the last piece of sweet fruit—which almost became lodged in his throat at the threat. He had expected this reaction from the brutes. Anger had been bred into them over the years. It would not take one conversation to change things. It would take years of reeducation.
Taylor stood quickly and faced his aggressor, primed and ready for a fight. Keeping himself loose and limber in case the other two males decided to jump into the fight, he kept his hands close to his body in a defensive stance.
“No fighting, Boys,” Samson interjected smoothly from his perch on a nearby stone. “Taylor says he is a free male. Who are we to tell him different, lads? But I’m sure he will not object to the attentions of our two slaves. No male can resist such tempting females.” He nodded to the two women. “Attend to him while we watch.”
Captive Heroes Page 12
