The Safety of Nowhere (3 page)

“Two weeks, I think. Today’s March third. You were in urgent care since the attack. Along with many of your friends.”

“How many?”

They exchanged a look acknowledging a mutual regret that this was what they had to talk about.

“Eight killed,” she said. “Four of them were Bods and two were clients. The other two were from Earth First. About twenty more were injured. All but one’s expected to recover fully.”

“A woman?”

“What?”

“The one in danger of dying.”

Dinah sat back, looking at him. In all the infos she’d just read, they hadn’t mentioned anything about the gender of the victims. “I don’t know.”

“A woman,” he predicted miserably. “Why?” The question was philosophy more than complaint, some small attempt to probe the darkness that had fallen over him.

Dinah lifted one bare foot onto the chair and leaned toward him. Small talk was something she hated. Big talk, on the other hand—sharing views about the things that mattered—that she’d always loved.

“Those men who joined Earth First were very angry when the Second Civil War began. They wanted to express that anger. Some might even say they
needed
to express it. The leaders of the rich and powerful north, however, were not about to get down in the dirt with all those rednecks, so they just gave in.
You want to be your own state—go ahead. Make yourselves the kings of Shitville.
Since that time, most of the men around here have been stewing in their angry juices, looking for that fight the north denied them. Enter the men of Backus. Alien invaders. A new sacred cause.”

He nodded. “That’s what Amin said. More or less. Do you see any way out?”

“Well.” Something in his eyes made her stop talking. He was listening to her like she was a friend, an equal. So far it was what she liked best about him, which was saying quite a lot. “I think we can rule out reasoning with them. Negotiating too. The north hopes they’ll get bored and come back to the fold of their free will.” Dinah shook her head, dismissing this. “Not this generation. Their children’s children maybe. It’ll either be the waiting game or force. I don’t see any other way.”

“And in the meantime people will be killed. Innocents.”

“There’s always danger,” she said, sitting back. “This is nothing new.”

The comment didn’t seem to satisfy him.

“You’re a hero,” she reminded him. “
The
hero. Without you, the death toll would have been closer to eighty. I read all the reports. They all say the same thing. How did you know in time?” That was the mystery embedded in the story.

“I could see it in his eyes.” Malcolm took a sip of coffee. After which, he started eating, moving through what she’d put on his plate. “There was the car as well, of course. Amin’s security officers always use company cars. This man drove up in a blue truck with rust patches by the wheels. He gave some excuse about a roadblock, but I knew as soon as I looked at his face. I still had to kill him before I could get to the alarm, and that took time, unfortunately.”

Dinah fit this into what she’d read. Malcolm had been unarmed but somehow managed it with only strength and speed. For his bravery he’d been the last out of the blast zone, which meant he’d been thrown backward through a glass partition onto a stone floor. “You saved nearly eighty lives and almost lost your own. You shouldn’t take this on yourself. But I am sorry.” Dinah touched his hand. She wanted to touch all of him. “I’m sorry for the violence and hate. It’s awful.”

He closed his fingers over hers and raised them to his mouth. The touch of his lips had her rigid with sensation. “Thank you,” he said. In silence, both of them went back to eating.

“Why did you do it?” he asked when he’d finished off the last bite of his toast.

“Do what?”

“Agree to hide me here.”

She was chewing, which was good. It gave her time to think.

She could say she was committed to the pro-alien cause, but that would make her sound more passionate about interplanetary politics than anyone should think was true. Despite what he might think, she wasn’t sacrificing anything to have him here.

She could tell him it was for the company, but that would make her sound pathetic. She was lonely sometimes, sure. She also loved the independent life she had.

“I did it to get laid,” she said. There wasn’t any “but” attached to that.

He leaned back in his chair and studied her. For one weird second she thought she could feel him reach into her brain and weigh that thought for its truth content. It must have passed inspection, because he turned his sexy on full force and almost knocked her over.

“Do you want to?” Dinah smiled at him.

“Yes.” His answer was immediate and charming.

“Of course you do. It’s fuck or die for you guys, isn’t it?”

“Well,” he said, eyes shifting to the far side of the room. “I won’t die for a few minutes, at least. We can definitely drink our coffee.”

“How long can you live without sex?” She had more than a passing curiosity about Backusians and all their fascinating quirks.

“I’ve no idea how long I personally could live. Some men are very ill after a day or two. Some resist for longer. There are men on Backus who abstain successfully for months, but no one is particularly interested in following their lead.”

“They don’t make it look like fun?”

“They make it look like being sucked dry in a spider’s web.”

“Ew.” Dinah recoiled at the image. “How many women have you had sex with?”

He shrugged. “As many as the days I’ve been a man. A few thousand, I suppose.”

“A thousand different women?”

“Thousands,” he corrected. “Yes.”

“How is that even possible?” Dinah tried to get her head around it. Failed completely. He seemed at a greater loss to understand what was confusing to her.

“To have sex with a woman you have to at least meet her,” she explained. “How do you meet a different available woman every day?”

His eyes rounded, suggesting it was obvious. “I work at the Body House. They come to me and introduce themselves.”

“Convenient,” she acknowledged. “But the Body House is Amin Clay’s invention. You’ve only been on Earth three years.”

“Before that, I worked in a similar place at home.”

“Well you must have been having my share of sex too. I’ve been alone and painfully deprived for two years.”

That had him at attention. He rolled his shoulders back, torso straightening with interest.

“Relax,” she said. “I’m not a Bod. I’m not going to die without it. Are lady Backusians called Bods?”

“I shouldn’t think so,” said her guest. “Only men provide sex on demand on Backus.”

“Sex on demand.” She blinked at that. “Isn’t that a lot of pressure?”

“No.” He laughed as though it was a very funny thought.

“I’ve already slept with you,” she said, bragging a little.

“When?” His brows raised with confusion, tinged with interest.

“Last night.”

“We slept together?” The idea seemed to titillate him. “That’s a serious taboo you know. I’m not supposed to sleep with women.”

She thought that was a joke, but he corrected her misapprehension. “Not
sleep
,” he explained. “Drifting off in a woman’s presence is discouraged at the Body House. On Backus too, of course.”

“Why?”

His chin tilted a little to the right. “Better to remain alert and tend the lady’s needs.”

“That’s too bad.” Dinah tossed a flirty glance at him. “Sleeping next to someone can be nice.”

“Was it nice?”

“Yeah.” It definitely was.

“Would you like to take a nap?”

“What?”

“If it’s something you enjoy, we could lie down in that bed right there and doze off, you and I.” He gestured to the place this might be done, a devilish expression on his face.

Dinah felt a crazy tidal wave of sexual interest roll over her body, hot and thick and bubbling. Everything about him seemed to turn on like a switch,
zap
, his powers of seduction all lit up.

“You just said sleeping with a woman was forbidden. Would you break the rules for me?”

“A thousand times.” His sexy smile bloomed, then disappeared. The powers of seduction dimmed. “I’ll break every rule but one: I won’t agree to risk your safety. You didn’t answer me before. Are you in danger with me here?”

“No more than usual.” Dinah shrugged and made to clear the empty plates.

His chair creaked, and the air around him seemed to still. When she turned, his eyes were fixed on her: a tractor beam in blue.

“I said, have I put you in danger?”

“No,” Dinah assured him. It was true. The danger in her life was nothing new or anything to do with him. Any unclaimed woman under eighty had to watch herself in neighborhoods like these. Now that Cy was dead, she spent each day one horny drunk away from absolute disaster. So far so good, but every time she went to market, dressed in her dead husband’s clothes, as big a crazy mess as she could be, she felt the stares and knew her days in paradise might well be numbered. There was no use telling him any of that.

“Does this really look dangerous to you?” she asked, glancing at the home she loved so much. “There’s no one here. Not for miles and miles. We’re alone. Just you and me.”

That brought a new expression to his face, another survey of the room, this time with something that looked like anticipation.

“Are you still hungry?”

He shook his head, inclined his torso slightly. “Thank you for an excellent meal.”

Eyeing his empty plate with satisfaction, Dinah put the food away and wondered what else she could do for him. She glanced toward the small bag in the corner. Maybe she should be a lady and give the man his clothes. But better yet…

“How about a shower?”

The offer captured his attention. “Are you coming with me?”

Dinah dared a look at the smooth muscled limbs in front of her, imagining him wet and sudsy.

“Do you
want
me to come with you?”

His only answer was a “what do you think?” lowering of brows.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

Dinah rose and led the way. She put her robe back on the hook and started the rain shower. Really it was just a tiled corner of the room with holes that spilled hot water from the ceiling. Whatever it was, it was wonderful; her second-favorite thing after the tub. Malcolm stepped under the stream immediately, sighing deeply with the pleasure. His eyes were closed, his back was turned, and Dinah used the time to get out of her clothes.

She’d heard Bods found all women equally attractive. Hard to fathom, but all evidence said it was true. If any woman had left the Body House disappointed, it hadn’t made the news. Instead, all shapes and sizes came back looking like they’d spent a summer on Capri.

For an Earth man’s taste, Dinah knew she wasn’t bad. A tomboy, sure, but she had big brown eyes, jiggly tits, long hair, smooth skin—plenty to attract a man. Too much if you factored in how little she wanted attention in this town. She stepped under the stream, and instantly he turned toward her, smiling with a very sensual appreciation.

That frank admiration, combined with the sensation of the water, had Dinah’s skin rising in gooseflesh. Her nipples hardened to hypersensitized points. “Is it too hot?” she asked.

“It’s good.”

It was good. She’d always loved a tiny sting of heat when she was in the shower. Malcolm’s muscles bunched and twitched as he enjoyed the water. His proximity under the downpour had her teetering into a sensual red zone, his tempting skin a tide pulling her in. She wanted to molest him, stroke his cock, and help him work out any lingering trauma.

“Let me wash your back,” she said. He turned without a word. Dinah lathered up her hands and ran them over his broad shoulders, working her way down to the base of his spine. She had to look to find the scars. Three small incisions, slightly paler than the rest of him. On a whim she pressed her face into them, kissed him there. He straightened and grew still, but Dinah didn’t stop. She pressed her fingers to the scar to hold the kiss in place.

He tipped his head back, and she uncapped her shampoo. Backs were one thing, hair he could wash on his own, but if he didn’t mind her doing it, she wouldn’t stop—the feel of her own soapy hands along his skin was much too good. To reach his scalp, she had to rise on tiptoes, her pubis bouncing lightly on his buttocks. In time, she got it done, pausing only briefly when she felt the hard ridge on the left side of his head. They’d drilled a hole to let the swelling down. He might have died. How terrible would that have been?

When he turned back to her, she saw he was aroused. His cock looked hardened to the nth degree, tensely swaying in an upward arc. The heat in his expression hit her like the bright lights of a train. Dinah stood there blinking, ready to be smashed to smithereens.

He slid one arm behind her back; the other he hooked underneath her ass, and she was up against him, straddling his body. His skin was slippery and warm, his strength absolutely mesmerizing. And she was hugging him. Hugging him which felt as good as anything she’d ever done.

“Tell me what you want.” He pressed his mouth against her ear, the whisper firm and coaxing. She’d noticed his voice earlier too, a low, faintly consoling sound she would love to get used to.

As for what she wanted, Dinah felt a rush of images that had no words. “I thought you Bods knew everything instinctively without anyone telling you.”

“We’re trained to observe well, it’s true.”

“Observe me then.”

His gaze ran down her body, and she felt it like a touch. “You want too many different things,” he said, a hint of pain in his expression. “You want to know I want you.” There he paused, brows quirking upward. “Ironic, since I can’t remember ever being closer to the edge.”

Is that true?
Something in his eyes made her heart beat so fast she had to dip her chin to keep air moving through her tightening throat.

“You want to love me back to health and be consumed by me and torture me and come until you faint. Five thousand different things, and I’m not at my best, so try to focus if you can.”