Crystals Three Chosen Mates (10 page)

“What are you doing?”

“Tending to your wounds,” Stepho responded calmly. “You need treatment for this laser burn or you will lose some functioning of your leg.”

Fisher closed his eyes as his head fell back on the pillow. “Whatever,” he said with more resignation than sarcasm. He’d already lost Crystal. What did it matter if he lost anything else? His leg, his dignity, his future, none of it mattered anymore if he didn’t have the one woman who challenged him to be a better man.

* * * *

“Will he recover?”

Stepho didn’t miss the contempt in Henri’s tone.

“Physically, yes,” he answered. “But from Crystal’s abandonment? I don’t think so.” They’d stepped out into the hallway, so they could speak in private, while Fisher rested after Stepho had treated his wounds. The soldier had shown tremendous stoicism in the face of what had to be excruciating pain when Stepho had cleaned Fisher’s laser burn and tended his other injuries.

“That’s none of our business,” Henri snapped unnaturally at Stepho.

He regarded his longtime friend. “It is if we want what’s best for Crystal.”

“And you think that soldier is the best for Crystal?”

“Partially,” Stepho answered evenly. “I think all of us working together is what’s best for Crystal.”

Henri snorted. “You want us to become best buddies with him?”

“I want us to work as a team so we can all keep the woman who means so much to us. And the baby she carries inside her.”

Henri’s rarely-seen insecurities showed in his dark eyes. “You think she’d walk out on us, too?”

“I don’t want her to have any reason to even consider it,” Stepho answered.

“What do we have to do?”

“It won’t be easy,” Stepho warned.

“Didn’t think it would be if it has anything to do with Fisher.” Henri clenched his jaw after spitting out the other man’s name.

“He’s acting out like a wounded animal,” Stepho reasoned in a calm voice.

Henri raised a brow. “Yes?”

Stepho paused before delivering his analysis. “We have to show him soothing, tender attention.”

“Fuck that,” Henri growled, his fists clenched at his sides.

“I told you it would be hard,” Stepho reminded him, knowing the dominant side of Henri preferred a much different method of showing how he cared.

“You didn’t say it would be impossible.”

“Do you want Crystal to choose to stay?” Stars, he needed Henri to say yes. Even though Stepho and Henri thoroughly enjoyed each other bodily, having Crystal with them added so much more emotionally, and Stepho needed that kind of intimacy as well as the physical kind.

Henri glared at him. “Don’t ever ask me that again.”

Relief made Stepho momentarily dizzy. “Then you’ll have to follow my lead on this for a change.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Henri grumbled.

“Me too,” Stepho said under his breath, as he stepped back into their darkened pod.

But one thing Stepho knew from firsthand experience was that Henri was the ultimate protector, a defender of all who were weak and vulnerable. Stepho just needed Henri to see that underneath Fisher’s sardonic attitude was a man hiding his own vulnerabilities. Something in Fisher’s eyes when Stepho had doctored him reminded Stepho of himself before he’d found the security of belonging with Henri. There was the shadow of an ache there that longed for kindness.

“Did you change your mind about keeping me?” Fisher’s voice came groggily from the direction of the bed.

“No, you’re staying,” Henri answered with a soft voice that sent Stepho’s pulse speeding.

Stars, he had it bad for Henri. Fortunately, Stepho was secure in the knowledge that the feeling was mutual.

“If I’ve got the berth, where are you two sleeping?” Fisher inquired.

“I’ll take the wall bench, and Stepho will take the other half of the mattress,” Henri decided.

There was a tense silence as Stepho waited for Fisher to object to sharing the bed with him.

“Yeah, okay, sure, but Stepho?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t cuddle,” Fisher warned, pulling a small chuckle out of Stepho.

“You’re not my type, dahr-ling,” he mimicked the drawling way he’d heard Fisher say the nickname to Crystal when they’d been working side-by-side in the kitchen.

Henri snickered quietly from the bench on the other side of the room.

The poor man was going to wake with the worst muscle cramps. Stepho would offer to switch places, but he knew it would be a useless attempt. Henri would never allow Stepho to fold his larger frame onto the narrow, short bench. If Fisher was going to be staying with them indefinitely, they were going to have to make some other sleeping arrangements.

* * * *

“I finally got us on the list for a family pod,” Henri announced to Stepho and Fisher when he returned from the lab on Fisher’s fifth day with the two intelligentsias. “The bureaucracy has gotten ten times worse since the uprising. No one seems to be in charge and able to make decisions.”

“How did you make a case for our eligibility?” Stepho asked. “Even though Crystal’s pregnant, we haven’t been mated with her.”

Fisher’s gut twisted as he thought again for the millionth time about losing Crystal to these two men, because they would surely not keep him around once he was healed.

“With everything in flux, no one questioned the veracity of my claim that we were already mated.”

“Does that mean you included me in this happy little family arrangement?” Fisher grumbled, as a buried piece of him ached to be included.

Henri turned to where Fisher lay sprawled on the berth in just a pair of trousers. “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Of course, and I figured you would, too.” While Stepho had shown considerable kindness in tending to Fisher, Henri had maintained a stoic distance; seemingly, as a way to withdraw from the awkward situation of having a man he detested sharing his pod and sleeping in his bed with his intimate partner.

“This is for Crystal,” Henri responded curtly.

“Don’t worry, Doctor. I know you don’t harbor any secret desire for me,” Fisher bantered. “Trust me when I say the feeling’s mutual.”

“You are such an ungrateful brat. I don’t know what the hellitude Crystal sees in you.” Henri’s words were much too close to those of Fisher’s childhood, and they broke his limited control over his inner rage.

“I could say the same about you,” Fisher sneered. “When she was with me, she only needed one man to satisfy her, but it seems to take two of you.” He waved his hand between Henri and Stepho, who sat on the wall bench silently watching the eruption before him.

Fisher caught Stepho wince at his words, and Fisher felt even more like a fuck-up for hurting this man who had provided a safe and comfortable place for Fisher.

Henri straightened and stood very still as he stared down at Fisher. His calmness was more nerve-wracking than any shouting he could do. Fisher’s fathers had always been the most calm before they released their most vicious strikes.

“What’s wrong, Henri? The truth hit too close to home,” Fisher taunted, trying to force the other man into action. Waiting was always worse than taking the punishment.

“Stepho,” Henri kept his eyes on Fisher as he addressed the other man, “you know what happens to brats who push me too far?”

“Seriously, Henri?” Stepho asked, glancing anxiously from Henri to Fisher. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Remember we agreed to my approach?”

“Your approach is working great for you, babe, but it’s not my style.”

Oh shiitake.
Fisher saw something in Henri’s gaze that had him regretting his smart mouth for once. Henri looked like he was ready to tear Fisher apart, and in his injured condition, Fisher wasn’t sure his military training would be enough to ensure he could defend himself.

“Henri,” Stepho implored. “He’s already hurt.”

Henri glanced briefly at Stepho. “I won’t do anything to interrupt his healing.”

Fuck, Fisher seriously needed to vacate this pod. Glancing around for his shirt, he levered himself into a sitting position and swung his legs over the edge of the berth. Just as he got to his feet, Henri’s deep voice ordered him to “Sit.”

Fisher hesitated at the command in the other man’s tone, feeling his body at a gut level wanting to respond. When Henri stepped into Fisher’s personal space, Fisher retreated and sat back on the bed.

“Good, but next time, don’t think; just act,” Henri instructed in that low, firm tone.

At Henri’s mild praise, Fisher felt a glimmer of warmth in his chest. He shook his head, trying to get back to himself.

“Should I leave, Henri?” Stepho asked from his seat across the room.

“No, babe. This is for all of us,” Henri answered, then he stood over Fisher and addressed him. “I see you, Fisher. I know what you seek.”

Fisher glanced up to meet Henri’s eyes briefly before looking away. “Yeah?” he quipped with less than his usual amount of sarcasm. “What do I seek, O Mighty One?”

“Exactly that, boy,” Henri answered. “It took me a little longer to recognize you. You hide well behind your defenses, but with Stepho’s help over the past few days, I now see you clearly.”

“Really? And what do you see?” Fisher was almost afraid to hear Henri’s answer. If the man did recognize Fisher’s disposition, would he deny Fisher what he craved and reject him?

“A boy searching for a Master.”

“I’m not a fucking sub, and I don’t do guys.”

“Watch your language with me, boy,” Henri warned in a quiet voice. “I didn’t say anything about submissive sex. Replace the word Master with Father. Does that resonate better?”

Fisher felt the fight go out of him as he acknowledged the truth in Henri’s words. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to find your place in this family.”

“Family?” Fisher snorted. “Families are a fairytale.”

“Then get ready for your happily-ever-after.” Henri placed his hand on the top of Fisher’s head.

Fisher held back the “brat’s” automatic inclination to knock Henri’s hand away. Instead, he allowed himself a moment to feel the warmth of Henri’s palm and the sense of protection that simple touch conveyed.

“Good boy. I will always top you, but we’ll get to our happy ending faster if you don’t fight me.” Henri dropped his hand, and Fisher immediately missed the contact.

“You can’t
top
me unless I give in.”

“Unless you choose to submit.” Henri nodded. “You are right, and there’s the key to your decision. You’ve accepted Stepho’s kindness this week, but will you also allow yourself to be taken care of by a dominant male?”

“I’m military,” Fisher said.

“And I’m intelligentsia.” Henri shrugged. “Will you let your prejudices hold you back from finding happiness?”

“You don’t even like me.” Fisher struggled to make sense of this new place he found himself in. Was Henri really offering to make a place for Fisher in this “family”?

“You’re growing on me,” Henri replied.

“Yeah, like mold, I bet,” Fisher muttered, remembering the childish put-down.

“That’s five,” Henri said.

Stepho drew in an audible breath from across the room.

Fisher glanced at the other scientist then up at Henri. “Five, what?”

“Five times my hand will land on your ass for putting yourself down.”

“What the hellitude? Do you really think I’ll
submit
to that?”

“I warned you about your language, boy. That’s another five.”

“Shiitake! You’ve got to be fucking deranged to believe I’ll let you do that.”

“Ten more. You’re at twenty. Do you want to go for thirty?”

“Fisher,” Stepho called from the wall bench. “Don’t push him. He
will
follow through.”

“Only if I let him,” Fisher snapped back.

Stepho met Fisher’s gaze with his deep brown eyes. “Let him,” he said in a quiet voice. “It’s what will free you.”

Fisher dragged a hand over his rumpled hair. “This is insane. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.” And as he spoke, he heard the lie in his words. This was exactly what he’d hoped to find when Fisher first saw Henri’s relationship with Crystal.

“Yes, we’ve talked enough,” Henri agreed. “Stand up, boy.”

This time there was a tenderness in Henri’s use of the word boy that Fisher couldn’t ignore. He stood in front of Henri.

“Place your palms on the wall,” Henri ordered, and Fisher’s curiosity had him following the command.

“Stepho, come take care of Fisher’s trousers.”

“What?” Fisher dropped his hands and spun to face Henri.

Henri met him with a body check against the wall with his forearm across Fisher’s throat, forcing his head back.

“I told you I don’t do guys,” Fisher managed to speak as he struggled to draw in air. His damn injuries had weakened him too much to toss Henri off, and his ribs were screeching after hitting the wall.