Daggertail (12 page)

His big hands descended from nowhere in a harsh and angry grip. He dragged her to a bed draped in imported silk and strewn with tasseled pillows before flinging her hard against the edge of the mattress and bending her at the waist. Disbelief warred with desire as she began to realize where this was going.

“You want to be treated like a whore?” His voice was brutal, and his hands were rough. “I'll treat you like one.”

Instinct washed over Tavish, spiking her adrenaline and making her fight like a cornered animal. She struggled against his overwhelming strength, hissing and spitting while trying to sink her teeth into his arms.

He pressed her into the soft mattress with one hand, using the other to shove her dress above her waist. She gave a muffled shout and lurched forward, trying to get her legs free.

He leaned down, mouth beside her ear. “I like my whores nice and cooperative.”

She struggled harder until a stinging slap on her ass echoed throughout the room. Dazed, she went limp.

“Good girl,” he crooned, smoothing his palm over the burning skin he'd slapped moments earlier.

She should've hated him. But the oddest part of the whole surreal incident was that she didn't. Instead, a rising wave of longing overtook everything else. Desire curled inside her belly, and her pussy answered with a rush of cream that dampened her thighs.

He spread her cheeks, delving into the cleft until his fingers sank into the evidence of her arousal. He stilled. She knew he reached out with his heightened senses, testing, tasting, and smelling the truth she could not hide.

She heard him fumble with his pants bare seconds before his shaft impaled her in one long thrust. Intense pleasure hit her so hard, she thought her spine might snap. Her back arched, ass lifting to increase his penetration as Xave pulled out only long enough to slide back in.

He groaned, bracing his weight on his hands and setting a fearsome pace. The wet slapping sounds of his pelvis striking her ass filled the room. Her pussy clenched, drawing him in and fighting his retreat as he pounded her cunt. Her breath came in gasps, a tiny cry escaping every time he seated his hard cock inside her channel.

“Fuck,” he ground out. “You're so sweet. My cunt, my woman, mine.”

“Xave…I'm…coming.”

She hardly managed the words before realizing their truth. An orgasm ripped through her pussy, sending undulating waves of pleasure over both of them. Still he fucked her, gritting his teeth and pounding her pussy through the tension rocking her muscles. Her desire notched higher, drawing her body tight on a rack.

Her breasts bounced against the mattress, her hips slamming against the edge of the bed with each stroke. Xave's taut arms bracketed her body, bound her closer to him as he rode her to his own release.

“Take my cock, Tav. Take my cum.”

“Please, Xave!” she begged, not knowing what she needed.

“Come with me,” he ordered.

She'd not have thought it possible, but his cock pulsed once, twice, and when the third wave crested with his throbbing ejaculate, she convulsed into orgasm a second time. Xave's body went taut as he strained against her, emptying his seed deep inside her channel.

He pulled out immediately, hiking his pants over his hips and turning away. Uncertain, Tavish gained her feet, her dress falling obediently around her legs.

His expression turned stoic, unreadable, and his body language was mute. She wished she had his senses, able to smell emotion and gauge body heat to see the truth behind the barrier.

“Xave?”

“Are you all right?”

The question took her by surprise. “Of course.”

“You're not hurt?”

She frowned. “No, why would I be?”

He turned, and she was stunned by the desolation on his handsome face. “Xave, what's wrong?”

“I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

He fidgeted in agitation before gesturing toward the bed. “For that.”

Was he actually apologizing for fucking her? That was insane. The argument. This had to be about the argument.

In that moment she stood upon a precipice. Her response to Xave's apology would define the future of their relationship. Once said, her words would shape everything that came after.

The thought made her light-headed.

On one side, this incredible man had turned her entire world inside out. He'd touched her in a way that went beyond the stunning physical satisfaction. She wanted desperately to imagine a future for them, some miraculous circumstance that would allow them to remain together, stay alive, and have a fairy-tale ending.

But there were no fairy tales, not for working girls. She knew how this would end. If their relationship survived the clash of wills and the power struggles, she would get just long enough to become attached before he traded up and moved on.

On the other side existed her old life with its emotionally barren existence. She could never go back to Louie's. But there were other brothels on other worlds, other ways to make enough credits to get by. And while she would have to do without the stunning physical aspect of a life with Xave, she'd have ultimate control of her destiny, and her heart would be safe. What was the value of a heart intact?

Intact or icy?

There were a thousand things she could've said. Yet only one smart-assed comment left her mouth.

“Don't worry about it,” she said, her voice cool and unaffected. “You can take the whore out of the brothel, but you can't take the brothel out of the whore.”

He turned his back. “Now that we've cleared that up, I suggest we search this room for any information that might be useful.”

Watching Xave ruffle his way through the papers on the antique desk, she felt cold inside. It had been her choice. She could've said anything. She could've told him that he hadn't forced himself on her, that she'd cherished every moment of their wild coupling. But instead, she'd decided to snuff out the possibility of more.

So why did she feel so cold inside?

How had he become so ensnared? When had it happened? And why could he not sense her deception all along? Had she bewitched him so that he couldn't sense the truth behind her motives?

He fought back a howl of frustration. He had raped her! Perhaps not in the base sense of the word, but their coupling had begun with forced seduction. That was not the way he did things. He'd treated her as if he'd been more machine than man.

And yet…there had been no fear.

Fear smelled unlike anything else. It had a fetid odor he could barely tolerate. If there had been one hint of such a thing between them, he would've stopped. But she hadn't smelled of fear. She'd smelled of sweet arousal and warm woman. His woman.

She flung her barbed words like a weapon. But nothing else about her confirmed what she said. And if there was one thing he had learned over time, it was to trust eyes and nose long before his ears.

“Hey, I found something.”

No doubt because she had actually looked.

He reached out and took the scrap of paper without meeting her green gaze. Their fingers brushed lightly. She flinched away and turned to cover the telltale reaction.

If words became a weapon, what battle was she fighting?

“What's the Quick & Easy?” she asked, frowning. “Sounds like another strip club or brothel.”

“Look at this number. D-745. That's a docking bay.”

“Then the
Quick & Easy
is a ship?”

“Seems that way.”

“So he was supposed to meet a ship in the Delta sector.” She glanced at the chrono on the nightstand. “In about four hours.”

He nodded. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the name
Quick & Easy
rang a bell. Reaching up, he pressed the comm link in his ear.

Warrick wasted no time. “Still alive, Kovuchenko?”

Xave grimaced. Notifying Warrick that he'd bagged and tagged Mendez should've been priority one. But his mind had been otherwise occupied. “Both of us still breathing and Mendez in custody.”

“Is
he
breathing?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I would appreciate it if he could stay that way, Xavier.”

Xave grunted. “I need you to run the name of a ship.”

“Ready.”

“The
Quick & Easy
.”

Warrick's low laugh sent chills racing up Xave's spine.

“It's a pirate vessel.”

“Pirates?”

“Their captain is a man named Nathan Macleod. A very interesting man.”

“Interesting as in his bond might wind up for sale, or interesting as in you might hire him in the future?”

“That's the most fascinating part. It could be either. He has a habit of playing for both sides.”

“Not too unusual in this day and age.”

“At the same time.”

Xave considered this new information. “Mendez had scheduled a meeting with him.”

There was a pause.

“You want me to find the pirate captain, don't you?” Xave guessed with a sigh.

“I think you need to make certain Mendez keeps his appointment.”

Xave ended the link, still grumbling beneath his breath.

“How is Mendez supposed to go to this meeting when he's unconscious in the closet?” Tavish asked, one eyebrow cocked in amusement.

Sliding open the closet door, Xave reached in and hauled Mendez's chunky body from the shallow space. His bald head thudded against the wall on the way out. Xave didn't care. The nasty piece of work had to be breathing, not beautiful.

Reaching into his pack, Xave withdrew another hypo. Not bothering to swab Mendez's sweaty skin, he stabbed it into the man's neck. Seconds later the piggy eyes blinked experimentally.

“What are we supposed to do with him now that he's awake?” Tavish asked.

“He's going to take us to his little meeting with Captain Macleod.”

“The hell I am,” Mendez wheezed.

Xave pulled his railgun from his pack and pushed it against Mendez's forehead. “You want to rethink that?”

“All right! Okay, I'll do it. Just put that thing away.”

Xave slid the railgun back into place and secured the electrocuffs on Mendez's hands.

“I have to get my stuff.”

Tavish looked dubiously around the cluttered room. “It would take weeks to pack all this up. You're one hell of a slob.”

“And you're pretty cheeky for a trumped-up whore.”

The back of Xave's hand connected so hard that Mendez's head rocked back on his spine, his neck popping in protest. “Don't ever call her that.”

Mendez opened his mouth to respond and then reconsidered, choosing to remain silent.

“If you didn't treat women like shit, you wouldn't have to pay them to fuck your sorry ass,” Xave said.

From the corner of his eye, Xave could see emotions chasing across Tavish's face. Mendez's words had hurt, no matter what she claimed. If she chose to use those same words as a weapon, he had to find out why.

Shoving Mendez toward the desk, Xave pointed to a knapsack. “You've got five minutes to get your shit together and say good-bye to your little hideout. I suggest you get moving.”

Turning her back on Mendez, Tavish propped her hands on her hips. “How are we supposed to get out of here without bringing half of Aiello's men along for the ride?”

Xave pulled his IID from his hand and tossed it in her direction. She snatched it from the air, closing her fist around its bulky weight.

“Giving a girl your ring is an outdated way to ask her out, Xave.”

Something in her tone forced him to look at her facial expression. She stared solemnly at the ring. As sassy as those words had been, there was something lacking in the way she said them. A wistful expression touched her face.

“It doesn't bite,” he said.

A delicate shudder washed over her. Pretending indifference, she slid the ring onto her left thumb. But he didn't miss the careful way she touched the opaque crystal, wiping an invisible smudge from its smooth surface.

“So how does this work?”

“You and I are going to be regular bodyguards walking our charge to the transport bay.”

“Then I hope this thing can whip up some butch clothes and muscles, because I've never met a short, dress-wearing bodyguard with boobs.”

“Form a picture in your mind of what you think a typical bodyguard looks like.”

She closed her eyes, two tiny wrinkles appearing between her winged eyebrows as she focused. She was probably picturing a man. Xave couldn't help but wonder what the man of her imagination would look like, and if he'd be more attractive than him. It was ridiculous, but he couldn't stop the shot of jealous rage that followed such a possibility.

“Now hang on to that picture in your mind. Imagine it walking and talking and breathing like any normal person and then rotate the crystal on the ring until it clicks.”

“Okay, is something supposed to happen?”

She shimmered and faded into the image of a beefy oaf with no neck and huge forearms, dressed in clothes identical to Xave's. Her avatar came complete with a pack on its back and a comm link in his ear.

Xave chuckled. Only a woman would remember to accessorize her hologram.

“Why are you laughing? I look okay, right?”

Out of habit she propped her hands on her hips, tilted her head to one side, and tossed nonexistent hair over her shoulder. Xave's chuckle erupted into a full belly laugh.

“You look perfect. You just have to remember not to act like a woman.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“S'okay.” Xave frowned. “Have I seen this guy before? He's starting to look vaguely familiar.”

The man's features arranged themselves into an apologetic expression. “His name is Roque. Or I guess it was. He worked as an enforcer at Louie's. You took care of him that first night.”

Xave grunted, acknowledging her choice of a model. But in his head, he kept replaying the first time he'd laid eyes on her over and over again. Had his extrasensory talents picked up on her immediately? Had he known even then that she would be his perfect match?

Even beneath the shimmering facade of Roque, the enforcer-turned-bodyguard, Xave could sense her clearly. Holo-disguises were never entirely foolproof with him. It was like looking at a 3-D holographic image hidden in a picture. From the corner of his eye he could always see the true form behind the hologram. And scents never matched. Roque wouldn't have smelled that good if he'd wallowed in women's cologne. “How far away is the Delta sector?” she asked in Roque's gravelly baritone.

Ignoring her question, Xave snatched Mendez's knapsack and rifled through the contents. When he was satisfied the scheming weasel hadn't hidden anything dangerous, he slung it over his shoulder.

“Xave?”

It wasn't far, though it surprised Xave that she didn't know the exact location of the spaceport's Delta sector. But then again, she'd probably not been back since the slaver unloaded her as a seven-year-old bound for the trade.

Roque stomped his foot petulantly, drawing a smile from Xave. Tavish didn't have much talent for gender bending. Her image shifted, showing him just a hint of the luscious curves he already knew by heart. “Delta isn't far at all. But we've got to grab the
Daggertail
first. I want the ship close in case we have to make a quick exit.”

“That still doesn't tell me where it is.”

Xave gripped Mendez's forearm and started walking, waiting for Tavish to get the message and catch up. But Mendez scrunched his piggy face into an evil smile that he pointed right at Tavish.

“What're you looking at?” she demanded, using Roque's superior height and weight to jostle Mendez.

“Why don't you tell her, bondsman?” Mendez needled. “Tell her where the Delta sector is.”

Xave remained silent, but he could feel Tavish's eyes glaring holes through him.

“Quick trying to start shit,” Tavish said. “He'll tell me when I need to know.”

Xave was humbled by her faith in him, though it also made him feel lower than low. He cleared his throat. “The Delta sector of the spaceport is about four blocks from Louie's.”

“Oh.”

He'd never respected her courage more than at that moment. Despite the uneasiness that rolled away from her in waves only he could sense, her holographic disguise showed not one iota of her discomfort. Roque's brawny body kept swinging along, one hand clamping down on Mendez's arm until she left marks in his skin.

How had he been lucky enough to find such an incredible woman? She'd acknowledged his past and then gone beyond it to accept the man it had made him.

Icy realization sank its deep claws into Xave. Had he ever shown a willingness to do that for Tavish? Had he once acknowledged that everything she'd been through at Louie's had molded her into the woman he loved more than life?

Right then he knew he had to tell her. She had to know that he didn't care about her past or her hang-ups about labels and professions. He loved her. And she belonged with him.