Kieran (Tales of the Shareem) Page 9

  A voice deep inside herself, one that had shut itself away for many years, told her she was a liar. Felice could convince herself that it was logical to hide with Kieran, to enjoy what she could before she ran again, but the simple truth was . . .

  She didn’t want to go. Not when she’d just met him.

  Felice nodded, looking into his eyes. “All right,” she said, her voice shaky. “For a while.”

  Kieran stopped, the blue of his irises dimming a bit. “Good.”

  Felice stroked his hair again, loving being held against him. “What do you want me to do?”

  Kieran shook his head. “I do everything. Let me give you all I know how to give you.”

  Again, Felice wasn’t sure what he meant, but it sounded delicious and wicked. Locking herself away with Kieran, while he taught her new and incredible things, was sounding like a better idea all the time . . .

  The door chimer went off, shrill, loud, and insistent, followed by thumping on the door itself. Felice sucked in a startled breath and tried to untangle herself from Kieran, wanting to run, run.

  Kieran’s dark, commanding voice cut through her panic. “Go into the bedroom, and don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe.”

  Felice swallowed, letting his tone calm her, and she nodded. Kieran scooped up the coverall and tucked it into her arms, then gave her a swat on her bare backside as she darted past him for the bedroom.

  Fear was coming back. Wanting, fear, happiness, hope—all the things Felice had taught herself to forget. Kieran was waking her up again, drawing her out, and it would be so very, very dangerous if he did.

  *** *** ***

  “This had better be good.” Kieran leaned against the door frame and glared at Braden, who had the knack of showing up at the wrong-est time he could. Kieran was hard from holding Felice, scenting her, sucking her, and the interruption pissed him off more than he’d believed possible.

  “It is,” Braden said. He didn’t wear his usual stupid-ass grin. “Except it’s bad. Very bad. Let me in, so I don’t have to tell the street.”

  No one was out there in the growing morning heat, but Kieran took his point. He turned his back and walked away, leaving Braden to follow him in and close the door against the brightness.

  “Your lady,” Braden said. “Where is she?” He inhaled, his Shareem senses not missing the pheromones Kieran and Felice had stirred up. “I need to talk to her.”

  “No, you don’t.” Kieran stepped protectively in front of his bedroom door. His apartment was so tiny there was only one place she could be, but damned if he’d let Braden in there.

  “I’m not going to hurt her, or touch her.” Braden held up his hands. “I promise you.” Kieran remained standing, immovable, in front of the door, and Braden shook his head. “Listen, big guy, a bulletin has gone out about her. At least, about a woman who can fight like Calder described, who is a missing indentured worker from a TGH Corp transport. Patrollers are now saying she needs to be rounded up and returned—word has come down not to stir up any trouble from TGH Corp, because it brings in a lot of money for Bor Narga.”

  Braden waited for Kieran to answer, but he remained still, staring Braden down. Braden sighed and ran a large hand over his bound hair. “I’m just warning you, Kieran—and her—that’s all. Patrollers are looking for her, and there’s a pretty good reward. Seems she’s very valuable—TGH is listing her as an asset. If you’re caught with her . . .” Braden let out another breath. “Kieran, damn it, this is serious. If you’re caught with her you could be terminated, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re busted. Patrollers will put together you hanging around the docks with her disappearance, and work it out.”

  “You done?” Kieran’s insides were churning with fear and anger, but he folded his arms, making himself a formidable wall.

  “Yeah,” Braden growled. “I’m done.”

  “Then leave.”

  “You’re welcome,” Braden said. “For the warning and the offer of help. If you need me—and the rest of your friends—you know where we are.”

  The two Shareem shared another long stare, Kieran not moving.

  Finally Braden gave a shrug and turned away. “You take the Shareem lack-of-emotion thing to its extreme. I know they tried to cut it out of you, but I also know they didn’t.” Braden’s expression softened before he opened the door. “Good luck, big guy. And don’t be afraid to ask for help. It’s what friend means, in case that’s not in your database.”

  By the gods, did he never shut up? Kieran simply waited while Braden shot him his typical exasperated look, exited, and let the door slam behind him.

  Kieran’s rigid stance faded once the hot Bor Nargan air dissipated. He turned to the bedroom door, but instead of reaching for the control to open it, he rested his forehead against it.

  Talking ruined everything, he’d told Felice. Kieran’s heart was squeezing, pounding, his whole body hurting. He knew that once he opened this door, everything beautiful that was building between him and Felice would be shattered, leaving Kieran empty again.

  Chapter Ten

  Felice was on the bed when Kieran finally made himself open the door. She’d not put on the coveralls, but wrapped herself up in the sheets. She sat cross-legged, the covers molding to her curved body.

  When she looked up at him, her gray-green eyes wide, Kieran sensed the gap between them, a chasm he’d never reach across.

  “What did he say?” Felice asked. “I couldn’t hear—are they looking for me?”

  Kieran let the bedroom door slide shut behind him. It scraped a little, like the front door did, the doors having been bent a long, long time ago, even before Kieran had started renting the place.

  He closed the small distance to the bed and hooked his fingers gently under Felice’s collar. “This means I take care of you,” he said. “That I let no one hurt you, or even touch you without my permission.”

  Felice’s laugh came out hollow and raspy. “I don’t think the patrollers will wait for your permission. Or the master on the ship, the one in charge of the indentured servants.”

  Kieran’s grip on the collar tightened, pulling Felice a little toward him. “This means I take care of you. Understand?”

  “I . . .” Felice swallowed, her eyes moist. “Yes, I understand. I think.”

  “They won’t find you. I’ll take you away from here. We’re trying to find a way to get off planet, all of us.” Kieran tugged Felice closer. “You can come too.”

  Her eyes went wider, her tears making them sparkle like jewels. “Come with you where?”

  “Station 579, then Sirius III.”

  Felice gave a quiet nod, though she still looked sad. “Sirius would be good.”

  Sirius III had a no-tolerance policy toward slavery, indentured servitude, or anything else that put people into the power of other people. Justin had lived there and said he’d been treated like a regular human. Everyone was expected to work and pull their weight, but no person was ever owned by another.

  What’s more, any kind of slave who set foot on Sirius’s soil was considered automatically free and under the protection of that planet system’s laws. Rees had decided it was the best place for the Shareem to go, for a start.

  Kieran caressed Felice’s neck under the collar, instinctively trying to calm her. “You’ll be safe there.”

  Felice swallowed again, Kieran feeling the movement against his fingers. “You mean all the Shareem are leaving?”

  Kieran nodded. He was supposed to tell no one—Rees had said so, and that was only smart. The fewer people who knew, the better chance they had for getting away.

  This was different. This was Felice.

  “Why don’t you just go?” Felice asked. “Is that what you were doing in the dockyards, looking for a transport?”

  “We’re not allowed to leave the planet,” Kieran said, reciting the words he’d been told all his life. “Bor Narga is ashamed of making Shareem. They want us to stay hidden here un
til we die out. We get inoculated so we don’t make women pregnant. No children. No families. Nothing.”

  Felice’s worry vanished, and she looked at Kieran with pure compassion. “I’m so sorry.” She slid her hand over Kieran’s, her touch warm. “They gave me sterilization drugs too, when I was fighting. Can’t fight if I’m carrying a kid.”

  “Fuck them all.” Kieran’s anger rose, a red rage that sometimes surged up, batting aside all the experiments and programming. “Fuck them who made you fight and made you a slave. Fuck them who made me like this. Who the hell were they? Assholes and fuckers who weren’t happy unless they were screwing someone all to hell.”

  “Kieran.” Felice rose to her knees, the sheet sliding from her bare body. She ran her hands up his arms, which he found were shaking.

  Felice gathered Kieran to her, pulling him close. “They’re gone,” she whispered. “Those scientists and experimenters who hurt you are gone. There’s just me now.” She kissed his cheek, her lips cool, comforting. “Me and you, Kieran.”

  She was right. The thought struck all the way through Kieran’s mixed-up head and roiling emotions.

  DNAmo was long gone. The patrollers and the laws that restricted Shareem still existed, but right now, in this place, there was only Felice and himself, all that mattered.

  Kieran laid her down on the bed, the two of them sinking into the tangle of sheets. A few short pulls took his tunic from his body, then his loincloth. Felice had lost her smiles but also her tears. Her eyes fixed on Kieran’s as he ran his hands over her body, finding every curve and hollow, drinking the joy of her into him.

  Kieran didn’t always allow his subs to look at him. He found that they were more turned on if they had to bow their heads and look away, while he lubed them, fitted them with plugs, tied their hands.

  Felice had beautiful eyes. Kieran lost himself in them as he slid his cock straight into her, not bothering with lubes, plugs, wands, tethers and everything else. At the moment, it was only Felice, her warm body welcoming him, her breasts soft against his chest.

  Shareem were big, twelve standard inches, but Felice was strong. She took him, all of him, and accepted him as he was.

  Kieran groaned as he drew back and thrust again. Felice was wet, her opening slick—no lube required. She was hot inside, squeezing him.

  “You’re tight,” he whispered, his gaze fixed firmly on her eyes. “Tight and sweet. I’m going to fuck you all day, and all night after that.”

  Felice let out a breath, almost a moan, but she nodded. He saw her try to speak, and then give up.

  Kieran felt the smile spread across his face. She was beautiful, his, and he was buried inside her, where he belonged. To hell with slavers, patrollers, stupid transport crews, and even other Shareem.

  Felice’s smile blossomed, answering his. Wildness rippled through him, starting at his cock nestled inside her and radiating to every place in his body. Kieran’s heart pounded, his skin slick with sweat, his body heat soaring. The new warmth in his heart added to his excitement, as did the triumph of being with the most beautiful woman in the universe. Here, in his bed.

  This wasn’t simple fucking, the idea tapped at him. This was real. Profound. Everlasting.

  Don’t let it go.

  Felice cried out as she came, and Kieran caught his name on her lips, a wave of joy lifting him up and carrying him away.

  He’d never felt like this before. Always, always it had been a bodily thing only, with mind and heart disengaged.

  Ever since he’d met Felice, his body, heart, and mind had melded, and kicked his ass. Kieran released her mouth, only to shout his own ecstasy. His climax built and built, the power of it heating every inch of him, scouring every breath.

  Something clamped him in the gut, the heart, the cock at the same time, and he came. His seed released into Felice, and she rocked against him in perfect rhythm, her eyes squeezing shut as sounds of joy poured from her mouth.

  Felice was coming, and Kieran was, and they met in a place of absolute bliss. Felice gave one last shriek, and then she was laughing.

  Kieran pumped into her, his groans filling the room. He braced himself for his last thrust, and then he fell down into her warm and waiting arms, a peace he’d never known washing over him and carrying him away.

  *** *** ***

  Felice followed Kieran down the rusting metal stairs, hanging on to his hand. She wore coveralls again, and Kieran had also found her some underwear and shoes. He’d given her his breath mask, which now hung from a belt over her plain robes. He’d bought another one from a vendor in the vast marketplaces of Pas City for himself. Hope it works, he’d growled.

  The stairs went down, down, down under the city. Felice thought she’d find coolness the deeper they went, but no. The temperature didn’t change much, and she realized that the solid rock under the sand held heat. Explained why the Bor Nargans didn’t build underground.

  She tried to calm her nerves, but she couldn’t help clinging to Kieran’s hand as they went down. He was taking her to meet Rees, he said, and they had to meet him in secret.

  The other Shareem hadn’t frightened Felice, not after meeting Kieran. Even Calder with his growling didn’t intimidate her. But from the way they all spoke of Rees, she knew Rees was something special. The big boss, she’d have called him in her old life.

  The stairs went a long way down. This basement was abandoned, though the houses and shops above it weren’t. What it had been for once upon a time, Felice couldn’t tell.

  Kieran led her across a vast empty room to a door that looked as though it hadn’t been opened in twenty years. Kieran tapped on the rusting metal, and it slid open surprisingly smoothly, not making a sound.

  The room on the other side wasn’t big. Shareem lounged on furniture, the kind that could be taken apart or folded away, some stretched out full length with feet up. Women were here too, in coveralls, robes, or tunics, lying with or sitting on the laps of their Shareem. A few women sat together, talking and laughing.

  The setup looked like an informal party or gathering of friends, except for the layer of tension in the air. Felice had learned, as a fighter, and later as someone who lived their life on instinct alone, how to tell when people were relaxed and happy and when they were likely to leap up and kill her.

  These Shareem and their ladies didn’t look like killers, but they all zeroed in on Felice as soon as Kieran led her inside.

  “Where’s Rees?” Kieran demanded as he shut the door.

  “Not here yet.” A very large Shareem, about the same size as Kieran but with blond hair, lounged on a sofa, with a woman in a very short tunic snuggled into the crook of his arm. “Introductions?”

  Kieran bathed the room in a hard stare. “This is Felice. She belongs to me.”

  “I see that.” The blond Shareem looked pointedly at Felice’s collar. “I’m Eland, and this is Jeanne.” He laid a fond hand on Jeanne’s bare leg. “Who belongs to me.”

  Most of the Shareem dissolved into laughter. “Which way around is it?” the one called Braden said.

  The laughter reassured Felice somewhat, though they were still watching her. They were trying to decide whether to trust her, and Felice couldn’t blame them.

  “Let me do the honors,” Braden said. “Kieran never will. I’m Braden—I’m usually with Elisa, but she’s at her library working her fingers off for us right now. Calder you know—his Katarina is at her clinic, which is why he looks so grumpy-assed.” His arm moved as he pointed out each Shareem in turn. “That’s Justin, with Deanna, his lover, who, believe it or not, used to be a patroller. Aiden, Ky, and their sweetie, Brianne. Brandt and his lady, Ursula. Over there, Rylan and, um, Maia.”

  The last couple sat a little way from the others. Braden hadn’t stumbled, Felice realized looking at Maia, because he didn’t remember the woman’s name. He’d been debating whether or not to say it.

  Maia was lovely, almost perfectly so, in a lush, sensual way. Women wouldn’t
take to her, Felice thought, but men would. Definitely. When Maia glanced up at Felice, and Felice saw her blue eyes, she understood Braden’s hesitation. The woman was Shareem, the only female Shareem Felice had seen. Maybe that was a secret?

  Felice didn’t have time to explore this oddity before the door opened again, and another Shareem entered with a red-haired woman and a human man Felice hadn’t seen before.

  The new Shareem had presence. The others switched their focus from Felice and gave it to him.

  He was tall, but then, all Shareem were. He had blond hair tamed back, much as Aiden and Eland had. He wore a knee-length tunic and the thin shoes popular in this climate—thick-soled to keep off hot sand but thin on top for airflow. A breath mask dangled from his belt, which he removed and set on a table.

  The human man peeled away from him and found himself a couch to sit on, but the red-haired woman stayed with the Shareem, not moving more than an inch away at any time.

  The newcomer didn’t acknowledge the attention of the other Shareem. He didn’t spread his arms and boom out, The great Rees is here. We can begin. He simply gave a nod to everyone, moved to a cooling cabinet and drew out a bottle of water, bringing one to his lady. She took it in graceful hands and sat down, shooting a look at Felice.

  Rees downed a long swallow of water, wiped his mouth, and approached Kieran and Felice. “This is her?”

  He looked at Felice, and Felice had the sudden sensation of her feet going out from under her, her head spinning. She clutched Kieran’s hand. But no, she was standing upright, unmoving. Not going anywhere.

  Rees’s gaze wouldn’t let Felice look away. He had Shareem-blue eyes, but they were a little different from the others. They sucked Felice in, captured her, held her. Whatever magic Shareem possessed to calm the fears of the women they seduced, Rees had it by the bucketful.

  No wonder Kieran considered Rees dangerous. Kieran hadn’t actually said so, but Felice could read the subtext. She read it in the other Shareem and the women now. As laid back as he seemed to be, Rees had control of everyone in the room.