Meandros
by
Sasha White
Published by Sasha White at Smashwords
Copyright 2005 by Sasha White
excerpt from Adbuction Copyright 2005 by Sasha White
All Rights Reserved
This story is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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MEANDROS has many meanings. It is a symbol, also known as the Hellenic Key, and there is also Meandros, the Greek river god. Both of these facts, and my own experiences in Greece have given me my own definition of the word. To me, Meandros means ‘the journey.’
It is not always the destination that counts, but the journey that takes you there. I hope this story illustrates that.
Best,
Sasha White
Meandros
It was no secret.
The minute I saw them, I knew in my heart what they were going to do—the same thing Tom and I did on our first flight together. Memories of that honeymoon flight to Greece washed over me and, although I didn’t think it was possible, my heart broke just a little bit more. Turning away, I looked out the small window into the pitch-black emptiness that mirrored my soul.
Visions of Tom, who was never far from my thoughts, filled my mind, and I turned away from the window. I pretended to watch the movie flickering on the silent screen, but really, my gaze was inexorably drawn to the couple two rows in front of me. We’d been older than them when we got married, and not so innocent, but we were definitely just as in love. And expressing that love, anywhere and everywhere, had been one of our favorite pastimes.
The lights of the plane had been dimmed on that initial flight, too, and most of the passengers were already asleep as we’d cuddled beneath our blankets. Tom’s muscled body relaxed next to me as he’d drifted off to sleep. I’d curled up on his chest to watch the movie and just enjoy being in his arms. The musky scent of man mixed with his woodsy cologne cocooned me, making me feel safe and loved.
The need to be closer was too strong to be ignored, so I let my hand inch over his leg and between his thighs. I cupped him gently, just holding him, not stroking or squeezing. It was a comfort to me, to know I could touch this beautiful man, any way, any time, and any place, and he would always welcome it. We’d fallen asleep before with me cupping his softness in my hand. The action wasn’t always sexual, but this time his heartbeat changed beneath my ear, and his cock stirred under my fingers. Unable to resist the pull of that heavy pulse, I tugged gently at the zipper of his jeans, praying the rasp of the metal teeth parting didn’t draw any attention to us.
Tom’s hand reached up and cupped the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair lazily as he hugged me closer. His lips pressed softly against my forehead and I slipped my hand into his pants, giving his cock an answering squeeze.
I wrapped my fist around him and stroked my thumb gently up and down the shaft. When he was long and thick, I stopped stroking, and just held him in the palm of my hand. I felt the throb of hot blood beneath silken skin, the heat and hardness that caused my own body to instinctively soften and dampen. With a twitch of my thumb lovingly across the smooth head, I felt a bit of liquid seep out, and joy saturated my being.
That cock, that man, belonged to me, just as all I was belonged to him. The undeniable need to have him inside me, to become one, burned through my body. We were so in tune with each other then that Tom felt the change in me, the shift from loving to lusting. He leaned in and whispered wickedly in my ear, “Tuck that back in, baby, and follow me.”
Before he was even done speaking, my body was reacting to his words. Blood pumped from my heart straight to my core. Heat coiled low in my belly, my pussy lips swelled, and a rush of moisture flooded my panties.
I took a deep breath, sat back in my seat, and tried to remain calm while Tom walked to the back of the plane. We’d been very well behaved during the wedding, not wanting to offend each other’s family, but that time was over. Now we were away from them, alone, it was our time. It was time to play.
Unable to wait any longer, I stood and cautiously made my way down the aisle to the lavatory I’d seen Tom slip into. I glanced at the other passengers as I went, my hands gripping the back of the seats for balance as the plane bounced and noticed most were asleep, but others were awake, reading, or watching the in-flight movie. I stopped in front of the folding doors marked with a toilet symbol just as the attendant was leaving the galley with another tray of juice and water.
I rapped a knuckle lightly on the door, it opened, and I stepped into the small space then slid the lock into place behind me. Once inside, I saw Tom already had his pants undone and his cock in hand.
He inched sideways and eased me in front of him, wrapping muscled arms around me from behind. His front to my back, his lips brushed my ear as he whispered loud enough to be heard over the plane’s engines, but not so loud someone outside the door could hear.
“I deserve a reward for being such a good boy all day. All I wanted to do every time I held you in my arms was lift up your skirt, bend you over, and lick you.” He pushed me forward softly, tilting me off balance so I had to place my hands on the wall above the toilet to stay standing. That left my ass thrust out against him, a favorite position for us both because the wall helped support my weight when my legs got shaky. He lifted my skirt and continued to whisper in my ear as his hands roamed over my body. The body I’d promised was his to do with what he wanted.
My heart pounded in my chest and the world around me narrowed until only he and I existed. Until only his breath on my skin, his words in my ears, his hands on my skin mattered.
“I wanted to start at your ankles with my tongue, and work my way up between those thighs.” He suited actions to words, his calloused fingertips trailing over the bare skin of my legs, my inner thighs. “I wanted to worship you. . .to show you just how much you mean to me. How happy you’ve made me simply by being you, my perfect other half.”
Biting my lip to keep from moaning aloud, I let my head drop forward. I thrust my hips back against him, his next words fanning the flames of lust burning through me.
“But now, I just need to be inside you. To sink my cock into your cunt, and show you how we fit together.”
In words barely distinguishable over the rumbling engines that echoed through the small space, I answered him, egging him on. “I don’t need you to worship me. I need you to fuck me. Now!”
Tom didn’t wait for me to finish speaking. He shifted the skimpy material of my thong aside and shoved his cock home. “I said I wanted to worship you, and I will. . .when we get to Athens. For now, I just want to make you mine. To feel you clench around me when you come, and know this is only the beginning for us.”
His hands cupped my small breasts from behind, supporting me, as he thrust fast and hard. Another whimper of pleasure escaped my lips when he pinched a hard nipple between his fingers, and he shushed me between his own panting breaths. Shifting my feet as far apart as I could, I ignored the trembling in my knees and braced myself on the wall, back arched, butt tilting out for him like a bitch in heat. He was right. The time for worshipping and lovemaking would be later, but for now, a good hard fuck was the perfect way to consummate our vows.
Another louder moan escaped and this time Tom didn’t bother to shush me. Instead, he removed one of his hands from my breast, placed it over my mouth, and pumped harder. Tilting my head back, I sucked his scent in through my nostrils and parted my lips beneath his hand. Adrenaline flew through my system, strengthening my shaky legs. With a nip at the flesh of his fingers, I tasted the musky salt flavor of his own pre-come and let my eyes roll back into my head. An orgasm twisted its way through my body, building speed and intensity as it went.
I was in heaven. It didn’t matter I was in a cramped closet of an airplane bathroom. I knew that was part of the turn-on for him, and his arousal turned me on. He turned me on. Just being anywhere near Tom made me into an insatiable wanton who’d do anything to please him. Knowing he felt the same way made releasing my inner slut heavenly.
Tom’s cock swelled inside me as his fingers tightened around my breast and across my mouth and I peaked. A scream ripped from my throat at the same time his teeth bit into my shoulder, and a guttural groan blended with the muffled jet engines.
We stood like that for a minute afterwards. Tom’s heaving chest against my back, his cheek resting on my shoulder. His breath puffing gently across my neck, his cock softening inside my pussy.
Finally, he wrapped his arms around me completely, hugged me tight and told me he loved me. He then pressed a gentle kiss to my neck and pulled away.
I twisted around to see him tuck himself back inside his jeans and wink devilishly.
“I want us both to know your come will be coating my dick until you can lick it off.”
With that comment, he’d edged out of the tiny stall and left me to readjust my clothes. I savored the knowledge he was just as dirty as I was. He was my perfect other half. I gloried in the knowledge that, with him, I’d found the kind of love I’d given up on ever finding—bone deep and unconditional.
The kind of love that made it unbearable to contemplate what life had to offer me now that he was gone.
The plane touched down in Athens at four-thirty in the afternoon. When I stepped through the gate, I searched the crowd for Sharon, and found her waiting patiently at the back of the crowd. She stood out—a beautiful, classy blonde in a sea of dark-skinned Mediterranean’s.
Her gaze was already on me and the closer I got, the more the compassion in her gaze got to me. When I was three feet away from her, she opened her arms, and I dropped my bag and walked straight into them.
Silent tears streamed down my cheeks as my best friend since childhood held me tightly in her arms. When I finally pulled back and offered her a feeble smile, she cupped my cheek and wiped at the tears with her thumb.
“Oh, hon, I’m so sorry about Tom. You should’ve called me when he got sick. I would’ve flown over to be there for you both.” Her voice was husky in its soft admonition.
“I know you would have. I’m sorry,” I mumbled, avoiding her piercing gaze.
“Hush, Tammy! You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I’m just glad you’re here now. Let’s get your bags and head out. We can talk at home.”
I gestured to the carry-on bag at my feet. “My bag’s right here.”
Sharon eyed the undersized luggage. “That’s it? One bag?”
I shrugged, knowing why she was shocked. I’d always been a clotheshorse, but for this trip, I hadn’t packed much. I couldn’t bring myself to care about what I wore, or how I looked since Tom’s death.
Her full lips twisting into a half smile, Sharon wrapped an arm around mine, and led me out of the airport without another word. She waved down a cab and we climbed into the back seat. In rapid-fire Greek, she gave the address and we were off.
The ride was silent, Sharon holding my hand and letting me look out the window at the passing scenery. I took in the rolling hills, the view of the deep blue Mediterranean Sea that flowed as far as the eye could see, and felt Sharon’s love and sympathy flow from her heart, through our clasped hands, and into mine. We both knew the time would come for me to tell her about those last months nursing Tom, watching him slowly disappear, but right then, in the back of a taxi, wasn’t it.
I sank back into the seat and let the heat of the land seep into my muscles. It was only June and the temperatures were already high. How Sharon, born and raised in the caribou country of northern Canada, could stand to live year ’round in Greece still amazed me. Tom and I had loved to visit her every spring while the snow melted away at home, turning everything into slush and mud, but the summers would’ve killed us.
My gut clenched. Bad choice of words.
It wasn’t high temperatures that had killed Tom. It was cancer. . .sudden and unexpected liver cancer.
Four months ago we’d thought an ulcer was the reason he couldn’t eat without stomach pain, or keep down much of his meals. I remember standing in the kitchen of our small cottage-style house and hearing the car pull into the driveway.
It was after five in the evening and I was starving, but I hadn’t started dinner. Tom had had a doctor’s appointment that day and I figured there was a good chance some diet restrictions might need to be implemented right away.
I turned away from the open cupboard where I’d been contemplating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to hold me over, and faced Tom as he entered the house through the kitchen door.
“Well, what did…” My words trailed off as I got a good look at his haggard face.
Pale beneath his tan, his eyes held a look I’d never seen before. Without a single word, he stepped close and swept me into his arms. My legs dangled and my toes just brushed the floor as my six-foot-three hunk of a husband crushed me to his muscled chest.
I was about to complain about how tight he held me when I realized he was crying. Small tremors racked his body and my skin dampened where he’d buried his face in my neck. Fear trickled down my spine, and I instinctively knew our life was about to change drastically.
Gripping Tom tighter in my arms, I wrapped my legs around his waist and returned his fierce hug. Long moments later, he finally moved. With two small steps, I was sitting on the kitchen counter with him standing between my thighs. A position we’d been in only two days earlier, except naked and fucking joyfully.
A huge, shuddering sigh racked Tom’s body, and he gave me one last tight squeeze before he leaned back and met my eyes. His dark gaze was full of such sadness and despair that my chest tightened painfully. Suddenly, I didn’t want to know what had happened at the doctor’s.
I closed my eyes and a whimper escaped as I tried to pull him back into my arms and close out the world around us. But he wouldn’t let me.
My strong, loving, straightforward husband gripped my shoulders and began to shatter my heart with words spoken in a quiet, firm voice. “It’s not an ulcer. . .it’s cancer. Dr. McPherson says it’s too far advanced for chemotherapy.” His voice cracked and he sucked in a deep breath, trying to retain some control.
As he continued, his sentences began to run together until my head was spinning and it was all I could do not to curl up into a ball and scream. “It’s too far advanced for any type of drug therapy …even trial ones …. Terminal ….can’t even give me a time limit… just soon.”
Our gazes locked and all the breath squeezed from my lungs at his next words. “I’m dying, Tammi.”
“No, no, no…”
I don’t remember how long Tom and I stayed in the kitchen in that position. All I remember is that we had just found each other. We’d had such a short time together, less than a year, and I was going to lose him long before I’d thought possible.
Things had gone downhill fast. The doctor had said the best thing they could do for Tom was try to ease the pain as the cancer ate away his insides. Within two months, he was homebound, too sick to work. Within three, he was in so much pain I had to sleep on a cot next to his bed because any jostling during the night caused him to lash out blindly.
His big, strong body rapidly disintegrated, but his mind stayed sharp until the end. When he told me to grieve only briefly, that he wanted me to live the rest of my life fully and not turn back into the shy, reserved woman I was before he came into my life, I thought he was crazy. I didn’t want to go on without him. He’d taught me how to fight my limitations, how to experience the joy of life, and he was dying.
All I wanted was to curl up on the bed and follow him into the next plane of existence.
“Okay, that’s it. Enough is enough.”
I shifted my gaze from the colorful horizon to the woman before me. Feet shoulder-width apart and hands planted on rounded hips, Sharon was clearly in battle mode. “Enough what?”
Her hands fluttered about for a couple of seconds before she released a huge sigh and seated herself on the deck chair next to me.
“Enough of this.” She gestured to my posture. “It’s been three months since Tom’s death and a month since you arrived here. In two days, you’re going home, and you’ve barely left the house.”
She looked over, concern stamped clearly in the lines on her forehead. “Honey, I know Tom died and you feel like a part of you is gone forever. I felt the same way when Yuergan passed away. But you wouldn’t let me curl up in a ball and hide from the world forever, and I’m not going to let you. You’re still alive, and you need to get off your ass, out of this deck chair, and become part of the living again.”
Throat burning, I turned away, closing my eyes and effectively shutting out her concern. I didn’t want to think about living. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
I fought against the anger simmering just below the surface of civility I’d fought to keep in place ever since Tom came home from the doctor that fateful day. “Sharon, I’m fine. Just because I don’t want to go man-hunting and party it up with you doesn’t mean I’m withering away. I just need a bit of time to myself.”
The creaking of her weight shifting on the chair next to me echoed in the silence. I thought she’d given up and was going to leave me alone only to feel her hip brush my thigh as she perched herself on the edge of my own lounger.
Her hand clasped mine and she squeezed gently. “I’m not saying you need to go out and party hardy, but you do need to go on. Accept that Tom is gone and you’re not. . .that you’re still alive. You need to start living again.”
Heat blazed through me and I fought to control the flames of anguish. The anger that had threatened to overwhelm me ever since I’d found out Tom was being taken away from me surged . I’d fought so hard to get my own life back, to spend it with the man who inspired and loved me. And now he’d been stolen away when we’d barely gotten started.
Keeping a tight rein on my temper, I looked directly into her eye and spoke in a quiet, clipped tone. “I’m alive and Tom’s not. I’m here and he’s gone. Believe me, I am well aware of the fact he died and I didn’t.”
“Are you?” she asked, standing up, but not backing down. “Are you really? From where I’m standing, it doesn’t look that way. You’re not living—you’re barely existing—and I don’t think Tom would be happy you’ve chosen to shut down. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’d be ashamed you’ve given up on life after all you’ve been through together.” She turned on her heel and strode away.
Those final words hit me like a hammer taking my broken heart and shattering it completely.
“I’m so proud of you, babe!”
Gaze glued on Tom, I ignored the pain tearing through my newly awakened muscles, ignored the sweat dripping down my brow and off the tip of my nose as I took another tiny step…one more…and collapsed into his outstretched arms.
My knees buckled and, ignoring the other tourists around us, he swept me up in his arms and carried me away from the well-traveled path. Feeling safe and secure, I snuggled my nose against his neck and sucked air into my aching lungs.
The hike up the hill to the Temple of Poseidon wasn’t a huge one, but when a car accident crushes both of a person’s legs and she’s told she’ll never walk again without a walker—and even that was iffy— that small climb takes on a whole new meaning.
We found a quiet clearing not far from the temple and Tom sank to the ground, his back against a tree and me cradled in his lap. We were still within earshot of the people milling around the plateau since voices carried easily on the spring breeze, but we were out of sight for a while. We drank in the exceptional view while I willed the trembling in my muscles to subside.
“You did great, babe.” His voice was soft and thick with emotion, his lips pressed against my forehead as he spoke. “You proved those doctors wrong by walking down the aisle last week, and you’re getting stronger and walking farther each day. You’ll be back in the studio before you know it.”
He was right. I was getting stronger every day. I could do things now I wasn’t able to accomplish even a month ago. But. . . “I’ll never dance professionally again,” I whispered, knowing the sorrow was clear in my voice.
In an attempt to soothe my spirit, his big hand rubbed up and down my back. “No, you won’t. But you can get back in the studio and do what you’ve always wanted to do, and that’s teach, right?” A gentle hand lifted my chin until our eyes were level. “Right?”
The love and pride that radiated from his gaze birthed a smile in my heart that pushed away all sorrow, and spread warmth through my body and soul.
If not for Tom’s faith in me throughout the whole ordeal, I’d have given up long ago. While it had been easy to give up on myself, I couldn’t bring myself to quit in front of him. I couldn’t stand to see the clouds of disappointment overshadow the love that emanated from him.
That love put some strength back in my muscles and drew me to him. “I love you,” I breathed out before pressing my lips against his.
My tongue slid between his warm lips and danced sinuously against his. My blood heated and a slow burn eased its way through my body, erasing the pain and fatigue brought on by the walk up the hill.
His hands gripped my hips and lifted. Without breaking our kiss, he repositioned me so I straddled his lap. Lips touched, hands caressed, and our bodies instinctively shifted together. His hardness against my softness. We were a perfect fit.
My insides liquefied, hot blood pooling at my center. Soft and swollen and wet, I ached for the contentment I only felt when Tom was inside me.
I reached between our bodies for the button on his shorts at the same time his calloused palms cupped the bare ass cheeks beneath my dress. He tugged aside the small bit of material covering my entrance, and within seconds he was inside me, the skirt of my dress hiding us just in case someone else ventured down the footpath.
Tom’s hands tangled in my hair and pulled my head back half an inch so our eyes met. Making the connection complete.
No words were spoken. Our bodies spoke for us. At first I sat still, equally impaled by both his cock and his gaze. I could feel the throb of his hot blood deep within me and was content with that—for a moment.
But soon, I needed more.
I’d learned a lot of muscle control while in therapy after my car accident, including of my deep core muscles. With a slow squeeze I massaged his cock with my inner walls. Contracting and releasing them rhythmically. When one of Tom’s hands left my hip and pinched a budded nipple through the thin cotton of my dress, my whole body twitched and a soft moan eased from my lips.
My hips started to thrust and withdraw, slowly and leisurely. I watched as Tom’s eyes darkened and his breath shortened. Soon his hand left my breast and both gripped my hips, urging me to speed up the pace.
I rested my sweaty forehead against his and rode him in earnest. His thighs hardened between mine as he worked with me, thrusting up as I ground down on him, my clit getting the friction needed to bring on my orgasm.
Inner muscles spasmed and sucked at Tom’s cock hungrily when it swelled massively and twitched deep inside, pushing me over the edge. Shudders racked my body while Tom gripped my hips hard and held me tightly. Our gazes locked as his hips lifted off the ground. He pushed farther, deeper, and hot, wet come jetted from him to me, binding us together.
When Tom’s thighs relaxed once again, I closed my eyes and curled up against his chest, our bodies still joined. We stayed like that for a few minutes, neither wanting to break the spell. I’d never felt as cherished as I did at that moment.
“We need to get up now,” Tom said softly.
We both knew if we didn’t move soon, my legs would cramp to the point I’d be bedridden for days.
“Do we have to?” I asked without moving.
He patted my butt and lifted me off him. “Let’s go watch the sunset from the temple.”
The suggestion was a bribe and we both knew it. Sunsets were a particular fascination of mine. He stood and reached down to help me to my feet. After we straightened our clothes, he wrapped a supportive arm around my waist. We walked back to the Temple of Poseidon, where the ocean view was fit for the god of the sea.
After the sunset, I walked back to the car, leaning heavily against Tom. Carrying me might have been easier on us both, but Tom knew that sometimes doing the easy thing wasn’t the right thing.
From the deck chair by Sharon’s pool, I stared out over the sea, watching the sunset bathe waters in blazing streaks of orange and red. Mortification burned deep in my gut. She was right. Tom would be ashamed of me.
I found Sharon seated on the sofa with a sketchpad on her lap.
“When we found out Tom had such a short time left, we made the decision to keep it just between us, so everyone could remember him at his best, and not as a shell of himself.” My softly spoken words echoed through the sitting room as I walked to stand in front of her, tears streaming silently down my cheeks.
“And he was a shell at the end. Despite his fighting spirit, his body couldn’t hold out. I watched him slowly disappear, and I wanted to disappear, too.” I squared my shoulders, preparing for my next words. “But you’re right. He’d be disappointed and ashamed of me for giving up and not honoring him by moving on.”
“Oh, Tam—”
I held up a hand, cutting her off. I didn’t want her to be sorry for what she’d said to me. She’d said what I didn’t want to hear. Yet, it was what I’d needed to hear to make me focus on what Tom had wanted for me.
“It’ll be hard to live without him. But I’ve done hard things before, so I swear to you, on Tom’s memory. . .” Choking back a sob, I forced myself to continue, “I will not fade away. I will honor him, and his faith in me, and celebrate his lust for life by living mine.”
The second the final words left my mouth, Sharon leapt from her seat and wrapped me in her arms. Grief tore through me and I clung tight, sobbing out the agony and anguish, the frustration and the anger that had built up and festered inside me.
As I walked down the plane’s aisle, I kept an eye on the numbers. 16-D. I’d found my seat. When I hefted my bag to put it into the overhead compartment, two very dark-skinned, very male hands reached for it and slid it into place before I could blink. I turned to the man behind me and smiled my thanks.
“I’m always willing to help out a beautiful lady when I can.” He smiled and gestured at the seat next to mine with his plane ticket. “I guess we’re seat mates for the next few hours.”
I let him slide in next to me before reaching for my seat belt to hide the flush creeping up my neck at his words. This was the first time I’d felt anything other than grief or sorrow since Tom’s death.
Along with pleasure at his words, easing its way though my body and mind was a tingle of heat that sparked at the look in his eyes. A look that told me I was alive...and it was time to live again, maybe even, someday, to love again.
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Sasha White
Author Bio
Read Something White Hot.
Gifted with a salacious imagination, Sasha White’s brand of Romance with Heat, and Erotica with Heart is all about sassy women and sexy men. With a voice that is called “distinctive and delicious” by The Romance Studio, Sasha White has published over 30 erotic stories with publishers such as Kensington, Berkley, Black Lace and Samhain Publishing. She loves to hear from her readers and you can learn more about her at www.sashawhite.net.
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Coming Soon from National Bestselling Author Sasha White
Mavericks of Space
An excerpt from Abduction, the first story in the Mavericks of Space anthology
Max Cooper was hearing voices. The fact they woke him from a deep sleep—the only half-decent sleep he’d had in almost a year—didn’t matter. What mattered was that he heard them. Because eleven months ago, his eardrums had been shattered in a diving accident, and he hadn’t heard a thing since.
Despite the deep sleep and the disorientation he felt when he sat up in bed, he became instantly aware of two other things.
One, he was naked.
Two, he had no idea where he was.
Adrenaline pumped through his system as he scanned his surroundings. The room was like something out of a Star Trek episode. All smooth shiny surfaces and curved walls-simple, large, and luxurious.
Where the hell was he? There was no denying that wherever he was, this place was a far cry from his spartan bachelor pad.
He cocked his head to the side. And where the hell did the voices go? They’d been loud enough to wake him, yet he didn’t see anyone, or hear anything any more. Pulling in a deep breath, Max purposely calmed his heart rate and took stock of things.
He remembered sitting in the Ghost Zone sucking on some scotch and trying not to think too much when a super-sexy brunette sat down next to him. Her full lips had moved as she’d said something, but he’d just stared at her lips until she stopped. She hadn’t spoken again, but she hadn’t left either.
She’d sat next to him, staring [watching} as he drank for a time before reaching under the table and running a hand up his thigh. All the way up to his dick, which had jumped eagerly and rapidly filled his jeans to the point of pain, as she tested his size. And when she’d tilted her head and slid from the booth with an openly seductive look, he’d followed without hesitation.
What a fucking idiot he was.
Filled with lust, and mellowed by scotch, he’d followed her into the alley behind The Ghost Zone, where she’d pinned him to the wall with surprising strength. Her tiny body pressed full length against his, her lips on his and her tongue in his mouth were the last thing he remembered. Swiping his tongue across his lips, he swore he could still taste her flavor, so dark and erotic that his cock twitched just thinking about it.
Give your head a shake, man! Now is not the time to think about a little lost pussy.
He surveyed the spacious room.
One corner of the room housed a sleek lounger next to a window, out of which Max saw only inky blackness. He swung both legs over the edge of the bed, intent on looking outside and searching the room for a weapon—and maybe some clothes too. As soon as he stood up the wall on the opposite side of the room slid open, revealing a doorway. He stilled, poised and ready for whatever was coming.
A shirtless man strolled in. “Hey, Max. I was wondering when you’d wake up,” he said before taking a big bite of the apple in his hand.
The shock of hearing the actual words made Max’s heart stutter. His throat tightened and he tasted tears when he swallowed convulsively. He’d heard the words, clear as a bell, and—the surfer dud had called him by name!
Reining in his emotions, he glared at the guy. “Where am I, and who the hell are you?”
Max’s voice was rusty from disuse, but talking, and hearing himself again felt so damn good. He hadn’t lost his ability to speak in the accident, but when he’d gone deaf, he hadn’t wanted to talk, for a number of reasons. He hadn’t had much to say to anyone, and when he did have something to say, he couldn’t hear himself, which made him feel like an idiot. So he’d write things on a notepad instead of trying to talk.
The guy’s eyebrows had shot up, and he swallowed quickly. “I’m Jason. You don’t know where you are? Didn’t you go through the tests like the rest of us?”
Max narrowed his gaze. He didn’t think this man posed a threat, but a tingle of unease went through him at the mention of any sort of testing. He hated tests; he never did well on tests.
Uncaring of his nudity, he met Jason’s curious gaze head on. “What testing?”
“The stamina and sensitivity tests?” When Max didn’t answer, Jason’s eyebrows rose. “The girls? You didn’t meet the girls yet?”
Hands planted on his hips, Max shook his head once. What was the guy talking about?
“The aliens?” Jason started to chuckle. “You haven’t met any of the aliens yet?”
Aliens?
He stared at the younger man and tried to come to grips with what he was hearing. Max shook his head and started to brush past the loser.
“No wait!” Jason reached for Max’s arm.
Max didn’t wait for the hand to land on his arm. He sidestepped, grabbed Jason’s wrist, and stepped behind him. In the blink of an eye, he had one of Jason’s arm twisted up between his shoulder blades, while he was pinching off the guys air with the other. “I want straight answers and I want them now! Do you understand?”
“If you want straight answers, please ask me.”
The dulcet tones of a female voice filled Max’s ears. He spun around, keeping Jason between him and the woman that was suddenly behind him.
She was gorgeous. It was his first thought when he’d seen her in The Ghost Zone, and it was his first thought once again. Only now, she didn’t appear as small and delicate as he remembered. Actually, she looked lethal, her leanly muscled body covered by scraps of leather and metal held together with belts containing full weapon sheaths. Her brown hair appeared darker, her green eyes brighter, and her fair skin almost glowed silver. She looked less human than he remembered, and yet, even more beautiful.
Ignoring the lust stirring in his groin, Max smirked at her. “Well hello again, stranger.”
“Hello, Max. My name is Tyla, although most around here refer to me as Captain Natori.” Her lips tilted slightly, her voice soft and pleasant, contradicting the readiness of her stance. “Please let Jason go. No harm will come to you while you’re in my care.”
“In your care?” He stiffened. “Exactly who and what are you, and why should I believe anything you say?”
“You haven’t been hurt yet. In fact, you’ve been healed, haven’t you?” There was a moment of silence as she studied him before warning softly, “I only ask once, Max.”
No way in hell was he going to release his prisoner, his shield, before he got some answers. He wasn’t the most trusting guy in the best of circumstances. Being kidnapped hadn’t exactly made him more inclined to trust, no matter that they hadn’t harmed him…yet. The fact that he wasn’t deaf anymore only meant they had done something to him without his knowledge or permission, and that was all that mattered right now.
A grimace marred Tyla’s pretty face before she spoke firmly. “Ghost, please transfer Jason to the Leisure Room.”
Without a whisper of sound, Max’s hostage vanished, and he gripped empty air. His heart stalled, then pounded like a hyperactive jackhammer. Sweat popped out on his brow, and he fought to stay calm. The guy had just disappeared into thin air!
“You are on my ship, Max, and Ghost is on a course to my home planet of Triton. Don’t worry, though, you’re not alone. Besides you and Jason, there are seven other human males and four Durians. You, however, are the only one who has not gone through testing, as you are not to go on the open market. You’re to be mine…” a smile spread on her lips, “and I do my own testing.”
Max struggled to hear her over the roaring in his ears. Home planet? Testing? HERS!
As she talked, Tyla walked to a panel of buttons on the wall and pressed one. The wall shifted and a rack of clothing emerged. She selected a pair of pants similar to those Jason had been wearing earlier and held them out.
Unsure, but unwilling to appear anything but confident, Max took her offering. “I’m yours?” A spaceship named Ghost? Humans, Durians, and home planets? His brain was starting to hurt.
Without taking his gaze from hers, he stepped into the pants and pulled them up. They were like sweatpants, sort of. Dark green in color with a drawstring waist, they reminded him of the martial arts Gei he wore when he trained. Which was good. He’d be able to move in them, fight in them when the time came.
“Yes, mine.” She met his gaze, and waited.
Despite his anger and distrust, he felt his cock stir at the thought of being hers. Alien or not, she was hot. “Let me get this straight. You’re an alien from another planet, and you came on to me in the bar last night in order to abduct me?” He paused and waited for her nod of confirmation. “And you have a dozen other men of various…species also on board this spaceship of yours, and you’re taking us to your home planet where they’ll be put ‘on the market,’ but me—” he jabbed a thumb in his chest “—I’m to become yours?”
“Yes!” Tyla beamed, relaxing her stance.
He stared, unable to form any more words when he realized the woman was serious. This wasn’t a dream, and it wasn’t a joke. The shiny room, the inky blackness outside, the kid that had disappeared from right in front of him…it was all real. The super-sexy woman in front of him has sought him out, and…and, kidnapped him!
There was a roaring in his head and all the anger that had built up in him since he’d lost his hearing rushed to the surface, and exploded outward. “Screw that!” he ranted as he strode toward her. He stopped only when he was right in her face. “I’m nobody’s slave! I’m a man, a human being. You can’t own a human being. Slavery was abolished during the Civil War.”
“On Earth, yes it was.”
He opened his mouth to speak.
She put up a hand to silence him. “But not on all planets. As it is, Triton does not hold with slavery either. We do, however, have transplants. Males, like yourself, that we…invite to join us and live among us.”
“Oh? So this is an invitation?” He waved a hand, indicating the room. “I can say ‘no’ and you’ll let me go home?”
Tyla’s cheeks glowed brighter and her eyes answered him.
“Yeah,” he snarled. “That’s what I thought.”
He turned his back on her and took two steps toward the doorway before he realized he had nowhere to go. He could leave the room, but he couldn’t get off the ship. What was the point in leaving the room when he had the captain right there to answer any and all of his questions?
Scrubbing his hands over his face, he spun toward her. Time to get serious. Knowledge was the key to survival, in all situations, which meant Max needed information. Dropping his hands to his thighs, he eyed the woman standing patiently in front of him.
There was no denying she wasn’t human. She looked sort of human, except for the glowing skin and piercing gaze that seemed to see right though him. She stood about five feet tall with a small, tight, hard body. The body of an athlete barely covered by the skimpiest armor he’d ever seen.
She had two eyes, two arms, two legs, two breasts. Two very nice, small but firm and perky breasts…
Max gave himself a mental head slap. Pay attention! She’s an alien! She’s glowing! She kidnapped you, damnit!
This was no dream; his imagination wasn’t that good.
“Okay,” he sighed, pushing his dread aside he focused on moving forward. “Tell me about the ‘tests’.”