Jerred's Price

Chapter Four

Jerred watched closely as the words hit her. A part of his mind, something that sounded suspiciously like a conscience, whispered that his behavior was disgusting.

What kind of bastard treated an innocent woman like this? It was one thing to offer her money, quite another to blackmail her when she was in fear for her life.

He pushed that part down, hard. He wanted her and he was going to have her.

He’d already decided that, long before fate dumped her in his lap with a bow tied around her pretty neck. This just made getting her onto his ship and into his bed easier.

“How long does this little deal last?” she asked quietly. “Will you let me off at the next port?”

“No,” he replied, gut clenching at the thought. “I’ll let you off when I’m damned well good and ready. If you have a problem with that, find someone else to take you off-station.”

“It seems that you have all the power in this situation,” she said softly.

“Yes, I do,” he said shortly. He leaned back in the couch, lifting his hips as he unbuckled his belt and slipped it off. He took the blaster and set it on the bolster behind him, carefully locking the trigger, then turned his attention back to her.

“You ready to seal the deal?”

She nodded, looking faint. He wondered how far he could push her, and considered letting things go for the moment. After all, he’d have as much time as he liked once they were on the ship. But then she took a deep breath, her breasts swelled beneath her low-cut blouse. The freckles that dusted them stood out against her pale skin, and her riot of red curls had gone completely wild as she slept. He had never wanted a woman so badly in his entire life. His cock filled to bursting; there was no way he would let her off now. He needed her in a way he’d never needed a woman before.

A bitter thought crossed his mind. Was this a shadow of what his Saurellian brothers felt when they found their life mates? If it was even half as bad, he was happy he would never have a life mate of his own. This was too much power for a woman to have, for anyone to have. Thinking about it made him angry.

“Come here,” he said roughly. He reached down and opened his pants crudely. His cock sprang forth, and he ran a cupped hand up and down its length. A small pearl of moisture was already beading up at the tip. He ran one finger across it, rubbing the fluid in a circle across the head, and shuddered. She looked at him, her pouty, red mouth open in a silent “O” of shock. He imagined those lips cupping him and shivered.

“Get over here,” he said shortly. The look on her face hurt him. She was afraid, horrified. What he was about to do was wrong.

He couldn’t bring himself to stop.

She stood slowly and walked toward him from the bed. She reached to her blouse, undoing one of the buttons at the top. A gentle blush rose across her chest, tinting the slopes of her breasts with a soft pink that made him moan. The next button opened beneath her fingers, and then the next. The shadow between her breasts grew darker, and as she opened the garment he saw a lacy, black scrap of fabric as seductive as anything he’d seen before in his life. She paused when all the buttons were open, arms hanging loosely at her side. The blouse gaped wide, although her breasts were still held captive by the wisps of black lace. He could see the pink circles of her nipples, though.

Soft. Gently pointed and growing harder as the cool air hit them.

Without thinking, he pumped his hand up and down his cock, holding back a moan. His entire body seemed frozen, rock-solid arousal holding him prisoner. If she knew, would she use that need against him? Would she find some way to manipulate him and take control of his life?

Having her touch him was the worth the risk.

“Kneel,” he said hoarsely.

She cocked her head to one side, and then did as he asked, dropping gracefully to her knees. He stroked his hand up and down once more, and then let his arms fall to his side.

“Now you,” he whispered.

She rested one hand on each of his knees, and then leaned over to breathe softly on his cock. She wasn’t even touching him, yet a wave of fire spread through his body so fast it was a wonder he didn’t burst into flames. He moaned, allowing his head to fall back against the cushions.

Then she placed her hand on him and he almost died.

Her fingers were hot and smooth around his flesh. She didn’t move, just grasped him gently. At first it was exquisite; as the seconds slowly passed, it became maddening. What the hell was she doing?

He opened his mouth to ask her, but before he could say anything her fingers gripped him firmly and slid up the length of his shaft. He shuddered. She repeated the gesture and he felt his balls tightening in anticipation. His heart pumped faster and faster as her fingers drifted across his taut flesh. His hips lifted off the couch. He needed more, and he needed it now.

His hand circled hers, squeezing her fingers tight around his cock as he pumped up and down. Two strokes, then four. He wanted to do more with her, wanted this first time with her to be better, but the feeling of her hot fingers gripping him was too much.

With a groan, he felt the tension rise almost beyond bearing. He slammed their joined hands down over his cock one last time, his lust exploding.

She gave a startled cry as he came, but he hardly noticed. He kept his eyes closed, breathing deeply as the aftershocks of his orgasm washed over his body. He had never felt anything so intense in his life. What had happened? Why had this woman’s mere touch been enough to send him over the edge? It had been a while since he’d had a woman, but not that long. There had been a wonderfully accommodating pleasure worker on Gemini, and that had been less than two weeks ago.

Her snort of disgust broke through his thoughts, and he opened his eyes to see her dabbing at her chest with her blouse.

“You might have given me some warning,” she said tartly. “You may find this amusing, but I don’t have any other clothing to wear. Now I’m all covered with…” she broke off, and looked away from him.

“Sorry,” he said, meaning it. He felt like an ass. He’d come on her like a boy with his first woman. All his life he’d taken care not to be a selfish partner, but he had failed miserably this time.

She stood abruptly and walked away from him toward the fresher. She pulled the shirt off, exposing her entire upper body to him, except for the wisps of black lace binding her breasts. There was something about those tiny pieces of fabric he found more erotic than nudity. His loins tightened, and his cock stirred in interest.

Now was hardly the time, though. Not after what he’d just done to her. From the sound of slamming fresher door, she wouldn’t welcome his advances no matter how desperate she was to get off-station. At least not until her temper had a chance to cool.

He stood slowly, and then stripped off his clothing. He pulled on another pair of undershorts, bundled his dirty laundry together, and placed it in the wardrobe. Taking out one of the loose, natural fiber shirts he favored, he walked across the room and knocked hesitantly on the fresher door.

“Giselle,” he said. “I have something for you to sleep in. I’ll just set it outside the door.”

He put the shirt down and walked back over to the bed. He was suddenly exhausted; it had been a very long day for both of them. Keying the alarm on his wrist chrono, he laid down on one side the bed, careful to leave her plenty of space on the other side.

“Computer, lights off, please,” he said softly. The room fell dark. He closed his eyes and listened. After a long while, the fresher door opened and she pulled the shirt in. A few moments later, he heard her cross the room and she sat on the edge of the bed.

“I know we have a deal,” she said hesitantly. “And I want to get off the station. But I would really appreciate it if you didn’t touch me again tonight. I’m not feeling very friendly.”

He agreed quickly, wishing he could go back just a few moments and make things better for her. Being an ass just seemed to come so naturally to him.

She crawled into bed beside him. He listened to her breathe slowly in and out for what seemed like hours. Then she spoke.

“I just realized that I’ve had your seed all over me, but I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Jerred,” he replied, feeling even lower.

“Just Jerred?” she asked after a moment. “No family name?”

“None that you need to know,” he said slowly, wishing he could tell her the truth.

“Go to sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

Giselle clutched Jerred’s arm closely as they walked through one of the massive transit station docks. He was moored on-station, which surprised her. It cost so much less to moor on one of the outlying buoys that a shuttle ride out was standard for smaller ships. If he had so damn much money, why hadn’t there been more in his room?

It was hard to walk on the ridiculous shoes he’d brought her. She teetered on the tips of her toes, the heels were so tall. Not that the shoes didn’t match her outfit. She looked like the lowest class of whore the station had to offer, and the long, obviously fake blonde wig didn’t help matters at all.

On the bright side, she looked nothing like Giselle the barmaid. It was a good thing, too. She’d seen her picture flashing across a security screen they’d passed on the way out to his ship. The station guards were saying she’d attacked them without provocation. She had no illusions as to whether she’d survive her initial arrest to try and tell her story to a judge. Sula hadn’t had that chance, and neither would she. It was safer and smarter to play Jerred’s little power game.

By the time they reached airlock 182 A, her feet felt like they were going to fall off.

While Jerred busied himself entering a code into the airlock, she took a moment to look out the small porthole at his ship. The craft was surprisingly big and graceful looking.

Nothing at all like the grotty spacers she was used to seeing in one-man operations.

Whatever this Jerred did, he was obviously good enough at it to keep the credits flowing regularly. She wondered what kind of business he was in. He’d been meeting with Vetch to discuss “business,” but that didn’t exactly narrow it down. Vetch was a typical freighter captain, and every load he carried was likely to be different.

But Vetch’s ship wasn’t even close to being this nice. Normal cargo didn’t bring in the kind of credits Jerred seemed to be throwing around. Would she be safe with him?

She shook her head, dismissing the thought. He was safer than the station guards, and that was all that mattered.

The airlock hissed open, and he gestured her ahead of him through the door. She stayed silent as they cycled through the lock. Then he pressed his ship’s key into the slit on the outer hull of the ship. The second door slid open, and she stepped into the most unusual freighter she’d ever seen.

Instead of the normal, utilitarian interior, the entire ship seemed to be designed with comfort—even decadence—in mind. There was a light scent in the air, a teasing fragrance that sang along her nose. It smelled so real, so like something on a planet that it caught her breath. How did he make his ship smell so good?

The walls pulsed gently with a swirl of colors, as if the ship itself was happy to see them, was trying to make them feel welcome. She stepped into the entryway, turning to him with questions in her eyes.

“What kind of ship is this?” she asked slowly. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“In my line of work it can be important to make a good impression right up front,”

he said slowly. “I like my clients to know that my business is solid, that I can be trusted to deliver my goods on time and in working order. This helps lend some credence to that claim.”

She didn’t buy his explanation for a moment, but now wasn’t the time to call him on it. She didn’t want to give him even the slightest excuse not to take her with him.

Transit Station 3 had become a very dangerous place for her over the past cycle.

A chirping sound broke through her thoughts. A bird?

“What’s that?” she asked, startled.

“End program,” he said shortly. The noise ceased, and the walls faded to gray metal. “It’s nothing, just part of the welcoming program. You can change it to a wide variety of settings, depending on what you’re interested in.”

“What was that setting?”

“That was my mother’s garden,” he said shortly. “Your cabin is the second one on the left. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. We’ll be pulling away in about an hour if everything goes right.”

She nodded, walking over to the cabin and opening the door. It was barely big enough to turn around in. There was a fold-down bunk, a single. She stared at it for a moment, wondering if by some miracle she’d misunderstood what he intended for her.

His voice came from behind, startling her. She hadn’t realized he’d been following her.

“My cabin is across the way,” he said. “I’ll expect you to be available to me whenever I want you.”

“But I won’t be sleeping with you?”

“No.”

She shrugged her shoulders, not knowing quite how to take that statement.

An hour later they left the station. She barely felt them move as it pulled away from the dock, probably wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t called over the com instructing her to strap in. Whatever else his faults, he seemed to know how to pilot, she thought.

Now they were steadily cruising away from the station. She had no idea how long it would be before he made the leap out of normal space, but she figured at least a week.

Most stations required that kind of clearance.

She wandered out in the corridor and started down it, away from the airlock they’d entered through. To one end there seemed to be cargo holds. She had no idea what he was shipping, but she had her suspicions. If he wasn’t a smuggler, than she was the Imperial princess. It was the only thing that could explain the cash he could throw around. Hopefully the criminal wouldn’t get caught while she was still on board, she thought sourly. She came to the end of the corridor, and started making her way back up toward her room. The ship had several crew cabins, and she suspected she’d been given the smallest, least comfortable one.

At least it was better than sharing with him, she reminded herself wryly. She ambled back up the other direction, discovering a small galley, an eating area, a living area and, to her surprise, a library. A real library, with what appeared to be thousands of datatabs and vids. She scanned them quickly, noting he had far more than the porn she’d found in his room.

The man appeared to be educated. In fact, far more educated than she was. Half the tabs were in languages she didn’t even recognize. What the hell kind of smuggler was he, anyway?

“You’re free to borrow any of the titles,” he said, and she squawked. She whirled on him, speaking without thinking.

“Why the hell did you do that?’ she demanded. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”

He gave her a chilly smile. “You shouldn’t poke around in places on a ship that you haven’t been invited into.”

“Why, afraid I’ll discover some of your goods are smuggled?” she asked acidly.

“Perhaps prohibited?”

“No, afraid you’ll accidentally stumble into an airlock while I’m running compression checks,” he replied smoothly. “It’s a terrible way to die.”

Her anger suddenly faded and reality washed over her in a rush. She was utterly dependent upon this man for survival. It didn’t matter that he was smuggling—staying alive was what counted.

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to sound genuinely contrite. “I wasn’t trying to pry, I was just exploring.”

“I know,” he said. “I watched you from the cockpit.”

She stilled. It hadn’t occurred to her that he had video access to the ship, but of course he did. It only made sense.

“I suppose you have my room bugged, too?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” he replied, turning to walk out of the small library. She followed, unsure of herself. She didn’t really want to be near him, but she didn’t like the idea of him watching her from afar, either.

“I’m going to fix us some dinner,” he said. “Do you have any preferences?”

She gave a nervous laugh, and then nodded her head. When in doubt, make a joke.

It always worked on her bar customers. She wracked her brain, coming up with the most exotic dish she could imagine.

“I don’t suppose you have roasted kvana with Beloni herbs?”

He smiled, and the tension between them broke.

“Naturally,” he said. “I’ve just gotten back from the Emperor’s summer palace on Beloni, where we hunted kvana.”

She smiled back at him, feeling more comfortable now that the tension was broken.

“I don’t suppose you have some of his Imperial Majesty’s private reserve wine to go with it, then?”

“Well, naturally,” he said. “What well-equipped smuggler doesn’t?”

For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed almost playful. The hard façade had dropped, at least for the moment, leaving behind a surprising nice looking man.

Even his scar seemed less menacing.

“So, are you going to prepare this wonderful meal for me?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “You may be surprised to discover this, but I’m actually quite a cook.”

“Forgive me if I’m doubtful,” she replied pertly. “You just don’t seem like the cooking type to me.”

“Well, you don’t really know me very well, do you?” he replied. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’ll get started on dinner.”

He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she saw dinner. He didn’t allow himself to consider why he cared so much. Moving efficiently, he placed a last few sprinkles of fresh herbs over the glazed kvana, then placed both warm plates in the stasis box. The first course was already prepared—thin slices of toasted bread topped with grilled Gnoscan mushrooms in a light vinaigrette sauce, and still-crisp steamed vegetables. A meal fit for an emperor, he thought wryly.

He poured wine into two gracefully sculpted crystal goblets, carrying them over to the small table. Things were almost perfect. He brought over the plates with the grilled mushrooms and arranged them, and then spoke quietly to the ship’s computer.

“Jenna, please turn on the dining program.”

Instantly the utilitarian colors of the walls shifted. Light, lovely patterns reminiscent of natural wood appeared on the walls, and a window seemed to open along the table.

The view was of a tropical garden, swirling with colors. A soft chirping filled the room.

This garden always seemed to soothe him. He hoped it would work for Giselle. He didn’t like the tension between them. However badly they’d started out, it was time to make peace. There was no need for their time together to be unpleasant.

“Dinner is served,” he said as he walked out into the main room. She looked up from the vid she was watching, and smiled at him. She must have taken a shower, because she seemed to glow at him with health and cleanliness. Her face was bare of the dreadful cosmetics, and the freckles dotting her nose made her appear charmingly youthful, although he knew she was a woman grown. She wore one of the simple jumpsuits he’d purchased for her on the station. Plain as it was, it still showed her figure to advantage.

“Dinner is ready,” he said. “Would you care to join me?”

She wrinkled her nose at him and asked, “Do I have a choice?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “You do. But I really hope you choose to eat with me, because I put considerable work into preparing dinner.”

She laughed, and then shook her head. Her wild riot of reddish curls bounced, then she stood up.

“Then I would be honored to join you,” she said.

He let her walk before him into the room, savoring the small sigh of appreciation she gave when she saw what he’d done.

“Jerred, this is amazing,” she said slowly, turning to face him. “It’s just like some kind of fancy restaurant!”

“Well, I figured that if we were going to eat the Emperor’s kvana, we should do it right. Of course, I don’t have servants to wash our hands for us, and I’ll have to bring out each course…”

She burst out laughing again, and sat down. He sat across from her, watching her face as she took a sip of the wine. Her eyes closed and she moaned in appreciation.

“What is this?” she muttered. “I’ve never tasted anything like it. It’s amazing.”

“It’s the Emperor’s private reserve,” he said. Her eyes opened, and she wrinkled her nose at him.

“It’s good, but it isn’t that good,” she said.

“Really?” he asked, lifting his glass and taking a sip for himself. His taste buds were overwhelmed with a symphony of tastes. It stole across him like a ray of moonlight, and he almost felt the coolness of an evening breeze along an ocean. The taste was rich and full, and as it matured in his mouth he could feel sparkles of sensation washing down along his spine. His loins tightened in response, and he felt himself harden slightly. He opened his eyes.

“I think you should take another sip,” he said, meeting her gaze. “It really is good.”

She took another sip, and her eyes closed again.

She didn’t moan this time, but a becomingly pink flush stole across her face, and her breath quickened.

“Okay, it is pretty good,” she sad, opening her eyes and giving him a sheepish look.

“What is this stuff, anyway? It’s not like any wine I’ve ever tasted.”

“I told you,” he said softly. “It’s the Emperor’s private reserve. It’s made by a group of monks sworn to the Goddess, and the last five hundred years they’ve only produced a thousand bottles a year. The emperor has first bid on it, of course. Some say it’s an aphrodisiac.”

“So how did you get it?” she demanded.

“That’s my little secret,” he replied with a smile. “Why don’t you try your food?”

She looked at him a moment longer, suspicion in her eyes. He could tell she didn’t believe him about the wine, which made it all the more fun to see the surprise in her face when she took another sip.

She reached down, and hesitantly cut into the mushroom. He followed suit, careful to watch her face as she took a bite.

“Oh, Goddess,” she said. “This is almost melting in my mouth. Where did you get these? They don’t taste like they’ve been in storage at all, but I know you didn’t buy them at on Transit Three. And we’re a long way from Gnoscanny.”

Now she had surprised him.

“You’ve had Gnoscan mushrooms before?” he asked. “Not many people have.”

She nodded and turned away for a second. Then she turned back to him and took a generous gulp of her wine. It didn’t hit her as hard this time, but she flushed and stayed silent for a moment.

“I can see how a person could get addicted to this stuff,” she said slowly. “It really has a way of making you feel better about things. I used to have Gnoscan mushrooms all the time. I grew them myself.”

“Really?” he asked, startled. “It takes a pretty sophisticated biosphere set up to grow them. No offense, but I have trouble seeing how you could afford something like that on a waitress’ income.”

She shook her head and laughed, but this time the sound came out bitter.

“They grow wild on Hector Prime,” she said, her face growing wistful. “I used to live there. I had my own bar, actually. Of course, it’s gone now.”

He nodded his head slowly, remembering. Hector Prime’s surface had been destroyed by Imperials several months after the cease-fire. They’d claimed it had been an intelligence error, a mistake of planet-wide magnitude. Millions had died, including the cream of the Imperial academic community specializing in biology.

“You’re Saurellian, aren’t you?” she asked. “I haven’t met many of your kind, but I think I recognized the facial features. Or kind of recognize them. It’s hard to tell with your scar, but the coloring is right.”

“Yes,” he replied, not quire sure where she was going with this. “I’m Saurellian. I remember when your planet was destroyed. I’m so sorry—did you lose family?”

“No,” she said slowly. “But I lost friends. And employees. I just happened to be off planet, meeting with a supplier on one of the moons. It was a fluke. Two hours earlier or two hours later and I would have been dead. Tell me something?”

He nodded, wishing he hadn’t asked. There was pain written all over her lovely face, and it hurt in him a way he never would have thought possible.

“Why didn’t your government do anything?” she asked, her voice anguished. “We were in the neutral zone. We were supposed to be protected. Why didn’t you do anything when they broke the truce and killed us?”

“We couldn’t,” he said slowly. “We had to pretend to believe their excuses, otherwise the war would have started again. We couldn’t afford to let that happen. Too many people had died already.”

“They killed our planet because they heard you had a secret base there, or at least that’s what I heard,” she said softly. “Well, one of the things I heard. Can you tell me if it was true?”

He closed his eyes, and shook his head. Damn Nicolai. It had been wrong to hide their resources among a neutral civilian population—it broke all the rules of war. But Nicolai had insisted that following those rules was no way to win, and he’d been right.

The war with the Imperials had almost destroyed them. He sighed, and then opened his eyes.

“There was no base—” he started to say, but the pain in her face was so open, so raw, that he couldn’t finish. He took another drink of the wine, but now it tasted more like water to him. Foul water, the kind that couldn’t quench a man’s thirst.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that we had a base there,” he said slowly. “But I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“You prick,” she whispered. She stood up slowly from the table. “You killed all of them, you and your fucking war. We were neutral—the entire planet was a damn ecological preserve. The people who died were students and teachers! What gave you the right to do that to us?”

He shook his head slowly, not knowing what to say. It wasn’t the time for an argument on the importance of checking Imperial power, or the fact that the Imperial rebels had asked his people for help long before the war started.

“I know we have a deal,” she hissed. “I know I have to fuck you. I’ll do it here and now if you want. But I’ll be damned if I’ll eat with you. Enjoy your wine alone.”

She turned and stalked out of galley with a dignity so frail it pained him to watch her.