“Yeah, the space storms are keeping most of the ships grounded.”
It seemed as if he might linger and chat, and she tensed at the idea of polite chitchat. She’d never handle nonchalance for long. Her sanity hung by a thread as it was.
“I’ll go to the cellar to get some crates of vroom.” Yes, she was a coward and running away. But it was either that or act on the urgent need to grab him. Phrull, what a mess. She forced herself to stomp down to the cellar. If she ever came face-to-face with the captain of the Intrepid again, she was gonna thump him through to the next galaxy. This was his fault.
The club opened not long after she finished stocking the shelves. Cimmaron made sure she worked the opposite end of the bar to Tamaki, dispensing drinks efficiently. Grumbles about the space storms were few since it wasn’t often crews had leave in Marchant. The bar did a roaring trade. The customers were three and four deep at the bar, the dance floor music loud and the crowd jovial.
“Hey, beautiful. How about a drink down here?”
A pang of envy struck her hard when she saw their uniforms. Space jockeys out for a little recreation. “Sure, won’t be long.” Cimmaron finished the carousal cocktails she was mixing for the black-skinned Darians before moving toward the pilots.
“Hi, boys. What will it be?”
“I’d like hot sex laced with you,” a golden-haired stud said.
Cimmaron shook her head and grinned at the same time. “Not in this lifetime, but I can get you a drink.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Blondie leaned close, and Cimmaron sensed rather than saw Tamaki’s interest in the conversation. An idea formed. Her smile brightened.
“Drink?”
“Don’t mind him. He’s a terrible flirt,” another of the pilots said.
“Takes all kinds.” Cimmaron shrugged allowing her grin to remain in place. She’d show Tamaki how much the previous night meant to her.
“We’ll have two vroom, a reeb and three blue venetians,” Blondie said.
“Coming right up.” Cimmaron walked away with an extra sway in her step. The prickling of her skin told her they watched every twitch of her ass with interest. She bent over to grab two bottles of vroom and the reeb from the chiller. A whistle pierced the air, carrying above the pounding beat of the music. Cimmaron glanced over her shoulder and winked at the pilots before turning back to the task at hand. After placing the flasks on the bar, she made the cocktails and accepted payment with a smile. She moved on to serve the next customer. Another vroom. Didn’t people realize the stuff rotted their brains?
“What are you doing?” Tamaki asked in an undertone. His warm breath skimmed across her cheek when he leaned close.
Cimmaron tossed her head, putting precious distance between them, and fought the weakness in her knees. “Merely being friendly.”
“Didn’t look like that to me.”
“What? I’m not meant to act pleasantly toward the customers?”
Tamaki cast a quick look toward the group of raucous pilots. “Not that friendly.”
“I work here. As long as I do my job, you have no cause for complaint.” She stomped away, her back straight and the hairs at the back of her neck prickling with danger the entire time. Throughout the evening, he kept looking at her. Not that she caught him out, but she sensed his interest. Her body simmered in a state of arousal for the entire session, an annoying prickle rippling across her skin.
“Stop looking at me,” she said. Edgy and off-balance, she wanted to lash out with more than words.
“Merely observing your technique,” he said smoothly. “I need someone to train the new staff.”
“Not me,” Cimmaron fired back. Luckily a customer stepped up to the bar, wanting a refill of his reeb, so she had a good reason to turn her back on him.
“A Dlog,” the customer said. His three eyes looked up and down her body. “Are you mated?”
Tamaki stepped up close. She smelled his clean, green scent before he touched her. His arm slid around her waist as if he had every right.
“Yes, she’s mated.” He stared at the middle eye of the Usplop until all three of the creature’s eyes glanced away.
“Pity. I need company on my ship. Gets lonely traveling from trading post to trading post.”
“Maybe you’ll find someone upstairs,” Tamaki said.
Upstairs? Cimmaron scowled. In between customers, she’d watched the stairs. She hadn’t noticed one person going up there. It must be awfully quiet on the upper level. The Usplop wouldn’t find a mate on the second floor.
The creature brightened, tiny tentacles stirring at the side of his oblong head. Cimmaron suppressed a shudder. No telling what happened to the creature’s body when he was in a state of sexual excitement.
“Take this,” Tamaki said, handing the creature a disc. “That will get you past the security guard. If you decide to partake of entertainment upstairs, we’ll deduct currency from your account. The hostess will answer any of your questions.”
The creature hesitated before giving a decisive nod. The sharp move sent a ripple through his tiny tentacles. “I will partake. It is no good traveling alone.” He took the drink Cimmaron handed him and ambled to the stairs. She watched until he disappeared out of sight at the top. Questions trembled on the tip of her tongue, the curiosity almost killing her. Turning to Tamaki, she opened her mouth to ask, only to shut it again when she noticed his arched brows. Silent laughter lurked in his eyes. She whirled away and stalked to the opposite end of the bar, muttering under her breath. “Jerk.”
She attempted to keep away from Tamaki, but the infernal man kept brushing past her, the narrow space behind the bar not giving much leeway when it came to passing.
“Quit it,” she snapped.
“Just doing my job,” he countered.
Yeah right. “It’s not as busy now. Why don’t you go and do some paperwork or something equally boss-like?”
Tamaki chuckled. “I’m watching the staff. That’s in my job description. What can I get you to drink?” he asked a pilot.
Cimmaron growled under her breath and hurried away to serve another group of space jockeys before Tamaki beat her to it and received the credit tips instead of her.
Tamaki hadn’t had so much fun for ages. A buzz of sexual awareness fizzed through him like the bubbles of a newly opened flask of vroom. He pulled a goblet of frothy veeno, glancing down the bar at the golden female who filled his mind increasingly with each passing cycle. A subtle golden glow emanated from her skin, giving away her turbulent state of mind. She was just as aware of him as he was of her. In that instant, he made up his mind to follow a new stratagem. Trying to remind himself he was her boss wasn’t working. They could have one more date without invoking the mate thing. Just one more taste and then he’d back off and leave her alone.
He could always lend her the passage to leave Marchant. Even if she didn’t pay him back and he never saw her again, it would stop the temptation crowding his brain each time he looked at her. Tamaki considered his idea from all angles before nodding. Yeah. That’s what he’d do. One more time. If that was what she wanted too…
The rest of the session trickled past so slowly he wanted to roar his frustration aloud. It was pure luck he’d chosen to wear a long tunic instead of his normal form-fitting shirt. At least the tunic covered his bulging groin from curious eyes. His frustration levels, however, remained high.
At last, security saw the last customers from the club, and they finished the cleanup, ready for the next session.
“Cimmaron, can I have a quick word before you leave?” Tamaki held his breath, wondering how to handle things should she argue about staying.
She cast him a doubtful look, clearly hesitating before finally turning back.
Tamaki waited until the last employee left.
“I wondered if you’d like to see upstairs.” He waited, wanting to grin at the expressions dancing across her face. Eagerness. Suspicion. Doubt.
“There’s no one up there.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. The rooms are still in use.”
Cimmaron straightened abruptly, her golden brows almost meeting when she scowled. “You lie.”
Tamaki offered his hand. “Come and see.”
Instead of accepting his touch, she brushed past him and stomped up the spiral staircase. The thud of her boots echoed in the empty club.
A victory of sorts. Shaking his head, he followed. Maybe he should’ve cajoled her into a wager. He took a moment to admire the curvy butt that swayed beneath the short blue uniform skirt. His lips pursed in a silent whistle. Oh yeah, baby.
Chapter Six
He lied but she’d no idea why. Cimmaron headed for the nearest room. Unlike last time, the privacy screen was open. A sapphire glow emanated through the window, lighting up the passage with the shimmering light and shading everything with a delicate blue. Cimmaron stepped closer, near enough to peer into the room and see the occupants. She gasped. The Usplop she’d served downstairs was floating in the air, his limbs secured by stout bindings so he couldn’t move. The glow came from his body, and his tentacles undulated, sticking out from his body at right angles. A female—well, Cimmaron thought it was a female—licked delicately at the tentacles sticking out from his groin. An audible moan of pleasure sounded through speakers on either side of the window.
Tamaki stood beside her, not touching but close enough for her to feel the warmth coming off his body. “Our friend has found a suitable partner.”
“Yes,” Cimmaron answered in a faint voice. Heat suffused her body, yet she couldn’t tear her gaze off the intimate scene in front of her.
“Do you like to watch?”
“No!”
“Some people do. I like to watch sometimes, but mainly I’m an action man.”
“The male doing the fucking?” Cimmaron asked tartly, her gaze finally snapping off the couple to glare at him.
“I wouldn’t have put it quite like that, but yeah. I’d rather run my hands across your body than watch another couple making love.”
“What is this place?” Cimmaron’s gaze slid from his face, unable to maintain eye contact without giving away the desire simmering inside her. She refused to succumb to his…his…charm again.
“It’s a mating club. Beings from all over the universe and beyond come to meet others. Some date while others like the Usplop are looking for a mate.” Tamaki placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her so he could see her face clearly. “If a couple meets in the rooms once or twice, it’s considered a date. Should the couple meet a third time, they become mates.”
Cimmaron gasped, searching his face desperately for truth, her gut hollowing with fear. “We…we’ve dated?” She was a Dlog, preprogrammed to mate. If that wasn’t bad enough she’d managed to land in the one place that could make her life miserable—a dating and mating club.
“Yes.” Tamaki took her arm. “Would you like to see the other rooms?”
No. Not really. It was difficult enough resisting Tamaki without being tempted by spending time with him. Cimmaron attempted to shake her head, but his sexy grin distracted her. Her mind took a sharp turn into Temptation City. Her pulse pounded a little faster, a fraction louder and her pussy moistened. Tamaki took her arm and drew her deeper into temptation and trouble. She shuddered, trying not to breathe in his enticing scent.
“There are twelve rooms in total. We started with five and have gradually added to the number to increase the club’s capacity.”
“I don’t need to see any more.” She dug in her heels, so he stopped his casual saunter down a wide passage.
“But you were curious.”
Sure, and now Cimmaron knew what had befallen the curious cat.
Trouble.
Tamaki kept walking and her steps dragged as she unwillingly followed.
“Okay, I get it. This is punishment.”
“No, that is punishment,” he said, pointing to another glass window.
There was no glow from this window and the room inside was very different. Sumptuous and hung with rich red velveteen fabric, there was a huge bed with a gold and crimson cover and lots of plump cushions. Two clubbers inhabited the room. As Cimmaron watched, the female swished a flogger through the air. It struck the male’s back and he fell forward on the bed. She could see his face, but instead of the pain she expected, his face was screwed up in an expression of ecstasy. Her gaze flicked down his body in the microts it took him to sprawl facedown on the bed. His cock was fully erect. Cimmaron glanced at Tamaki and found he watched her closely.
“Seen enough?”
Heck, she’d seen enough after the first couple. She gulped. The shrinkton fabric of her uniform was faulty. The material had drawn so tight she could scarcely breathe. Cimmaron nodded because she didn’t trust herself to speak without begging him to run his hands across her breasts.
“I need to check the new room. The final electrical work was done tonight, and I want to see if they left it clean and tidy.” Without waiting for an answer, Tamaki took her arm again and propelled her in the direction of the new room. Her breath hitched, and she wished he’d quit with the touching. It made her nerve endings sing and jump about as if they were at a dance party. Very unsettling indeed.
After directing her down the passage, Tamaki opened the door to the room and tugged her inside. Dropping her arm, he turned in a slow circle.
“What do you think of the room?”
Cimmaron gave the green color scheme a cursory glance, keeping her attention well away from the bed in the center of the floor. “It’s very nice.” An understatement. The room reeked of class and status with its beautiful and innovative furnishings.
The desire to shove Tamaki onto the bed struck her without warning. She had to curl her hands into fists to stop from reaching for his broad shoulders. Her Dlog genes. Again.
“I’m pleased with the end result. You didn’t see all the technological advances the last time you were here.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, squeezing her lightly.
“Stop touching me,” Cimmaron said and jumped away from him. Her pulse rate surged into an alarming gallop. “I… Just don’t touch me.”
“Why? What are you frightened of? I’d never hurt you.”
The male might look innocent but she didn’t believe it for a moment. “You might not hurt me, but you’re ready to have sex,” Cimmaron said with a bite in her tone. “I don’t want a mate. I’m a pilot. It’s what I do.”
“I don’t know why you’re so bent out of shape.” His brows rose in a teasing manner. “I was going to show you the room’s features. I don’t recall mentioning sex.” Tamaki tugged on a handle. A drawer slid silently from the wall—a different one than last time.
Despite herself, Cimmaron craned her neck for a better view. An array of sex toys—at least she presumed they were sex toys since some of them were mystery items with knobs and buttons and jutting swells.
She kept her gaze averted from Tamaki since the desire to run her hands over his body was a torturous litany in her mind. Even so, curiosity had her closing the distance between them to study the sex toys, and before she was aware of issuing the mental command, she touched his face. Her gaze darted to his, and she swallowed at the blaze of return passion in his eyes.
Tamaki jerked her into his arms and plundered her mouth. When she gasped, he took advantage and slid his tongue between her parted lips. He tasted hot and very masculine. With a groan, she stroked his tongue with hers, reveling in his heady taste, the play of teeth and the dark sound he made deep in his throat. His scent mesmerized her. It was as seductive as his taste—rich, green, redolent of the outdoors.
Their clothes melted away, and they fell onto the large bed. With increasingly urgent hunger they tasted each other, limbs tangling, desire exploding between them.
Cimmaron guided his cock to her and he pushed inside one tiny increment at a time until he impaled her fully. They rocked together, the
sensation building rapidly until the pleasure overwhelmed her, and she exploded with the force of her release. The ripples in her pussy continued for long moments, clasping tight to his cock. He groaned, thrust several times in deep, fast strokes before freezing fully embedded in her pussy.
Cimmaron felt the spurt of his seed, gloried in his moan of release. She clutched him, squashed by his weight but enjoying the intimacy of being in his arms.
Tamaki slipped from her moist sex and turned on the bed, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her, a slow and lingering mating of lips. Her hands dropped to cup his buttocks, her fingers delving between his cheeks to massage his puckered rosette.
“Again?” he asked in a husky voice.
Cimmaron nipped at the delicate skin of his neck and waggled an impudent finger, pressing into his anus. She felt his erection spring to life with renewed vigor and smiled against his neck as she moved her hips against him. The hunger remained and only he could appease it.
“Yes again,” she whispered. “I ache. You will fix this. But first, I want to explore you.” She pushed him flat on the bed and started to investigate his body. Her hands mapped his muscular chest, her mouth kissed his flat nipples, traced the whorls of his tattoo and she took the time to tease him before moving lower. He tasted of freshness and smelled of cleansing suds. An addictive combination.
When she grasped his shaft and licked along his swollen cock, he threaded his fingers through her hair. The faint tug brought pain, but anchored her too. Her nostrils flared, taking in his mouthwatering scent again. Slowly, she guided him to her mouth and savored her first taste of him.
“Cimmaron.” The tone of his voice told her how much he liked and enjoyed the intimacy. It encouraged her to take him deeper, to lick the thick crown of his cock. His trust made her feel powerful and yet feminine too. She sucked hard, drawing him deep and coaxing drops of pre-come from his tip.
“Your mouth feels good, but I want to come inside your pussy this time.”
Stranded & Seduced Page 8
