Jerred's Price (7 page)

“So, what now?” she asked.

“What kind of question is that?” he asked back. He twisted beneath her, vainly trying to create some friction between them.

She laughed, deep and low, then pulled herself up and abruptly seated herself again.

“It’s a question of technique,” she said. “Do you want hard and fast, or long and slow?”

She punctuated her question with brief demonstrations and he nearly exploded on the spot.

“I think fast and hard is probably the best at this point,” he managed to whisper. He clutched his hands more tightly into the mattress. Everything in his being cried out at him to grab her, clutch her tightly and roll her beneath him. He wasn’t used to giving up power, in bed or out. Oblivious to his internal struggle for control, she rocked back and forth across him, each movement tight and controlled. He bucked his hips up at her, wanting more, but every time he started to move she stilled.

So he concentrated on holding himself as still as possible, gritting his teeth as she slowly stroked across him.

She was hot and wet around him—had been from the beginning—but he could tell she was getting more excited as she moved. She seemed to grow wetter and hotter over him, and after a while her movements became less controlled. Her fingers clutched his chest tightly before she started riding him in earnest.

Perhaps she’d intended to go long and slow, but soon it was clear she had as little control over her body as he had over his. She moaned and gasped each time she sheathed him. He could feel the tension spiraling up within him, and every muscle in his body tightened in anticipation of his completion. He bit his lip to hold it back, realizing instinctively that she was only seconds away from her second orgasm.

He felt something warm and salty fill his mouth and realized it was blood. He didn’t care. All that mattered was holding back the explosion threatening to overwhelm his system. His pulse roared in his ears, his fingers went numb from holding the mattress. Still he held his release back.

Again and again she took him. Suddenly she leaned forward, changing her position slightly. Then she screamed and her nails dug into his chest. She detonated around him with such force that he lost control. His hands flew to her hips, slamming her down over his cock as his seed flew out and up into her. Again and again he pulled her body against his, shuddering with the force of his release. Then he was spent, and he seemed to completely lose his ability to move. Simply breathing became an effort.

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She lay down over him, her body cradling his as they relaxed. He wrapped his arms around her, marveling at how right she felt with him.

He wanted her to sleep with him.

It was ridiculous, of course. She had her own cabin for a reason. He knew he’d get tired of her, knew just how annoying it was to be trapped with a woman in bed. The main reason he paid prostitutes was to avoid such situations as this. That, and he was tired of women asking questions about his scar. It didn’t seem to bother her at all, though, and he wasn’t even sure how he felt about that. Why didn’t it bother her? What did that say about the other women he’d been with?

What did it say about her?

He shook his head, wiping the thoughts away. This was crazy—he didn’t want to think about things like this.

She shifted, and then yawned.

“I’m wiped, let’s turn off the light and go to sleep,” she muttered, rolling toward him and tucking herself against his side.

“Your own cabin,” he muttered without thinking.

“What?” she asked, turning to look at him.

“Your own cabin,” he said again. “I think it’s better for both of us if you sleep in your own cabin. That way we won’t get confused.”

Any more confused, he thought darkly. He wanted her, wanted her to want him.

But this was just a little more than he’d pictured. She rolled off the bed and stood stiffly.

Every line of her body radiated affronted dignity, and he sighed in disgust. He’d just made a fool out of himself again.

She started to walk out of the room, and paused as she reached the door.

“You know, Jerred,” she said. “You almost made me believe you’re a human being tonight. Thanks for the reminder that you’re not.”

Then she stalked out the door and it slid shut behind her.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself. He really was an ass. Hell, he deserved to sleep alone.

* * * * *

Giselle woke up the next morning feeling out of sorts, and more than a little hung over. That Imperial wine might taste pretty good, she thought as she examined the circles under her eyes, but it packed a hell of a punch. Or maybe that was just Jerred.

She’d never felt anything like what she’d felt with him last night. The man was incredible, a force of nature.

And a complete jerk.

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Jerred’s Price

“Remember, it’s all about survival,” she muttered to herself as she showered. He might be the biggest idiot she’d ever met, but at least he was pleasant to look at. More than pleasant. Every time she thought of last night her entire body clenched. Even if he was a jerk, being trapped with him on the ship could be a hell of a lot worse. He could cook, for one. And he was better in the sack than anyone she’d ever been with.

As a woman who didn’t have many of options, things could be worse.

She finished in the fresher quickly then looked around her cabin. There was no way she’d be able to spend any extra time in here. It was simply too small. His cabin had been small, too. For a man who lived on his ship and enjoyed his comforts, he certainly hadn’t put much time in designing his cabins. Then again, he was a smuggler. Perhaps the smaller cabins allowed him to hide more cargo.

Not that she’d ask.

Smugglers were just a step above pirates, and she didn’t want to know the details of his little business operation. Only a fool asked questions like that. She pulled on another jumpsuit, realizing she needed to retrieve the other from his cabin. He really could have picked out nicer clothing for her, she thought in disgust. These jumpsuits were functional, but hardly attractive. Not that she wanted to attract to him, of course. But she always liked to look her best. It was just a point of pride.

She opened up her door and walked out in the main room. He was nowhere to be seen.

She stuck her head in the small library and then made for the galley. Hangover or not, she was hungry. The night before the lights and the holo-projectors had hidden things, but now she could see that his galley was unusually well stocked, especially for a ship. Among other things, he had a stasis chamber. She’d never seen one of those outside a restaurant, and she ran her fingers over it lovingly. She’s always wanted one.

But even when she’d owned her bar, she couldn’t afford it. His smuggling business must do very well, indeed.

She rummaged through the cold storage, surprised to find a wide selection of foods.

Within a few moments she had a nice plate of food ready, complete with what looked like fresh bread and fruits. She took the plate with her into the main room, and then sat down the couch and flicked on the vid screen.

“Jenna, please show our course and current destination,” she asked.

“I’m sorry, but that information is not available to you at this time,” the computer replied in smooth, modulated tones.

Great.

“Where is Jerred?” she asked.

“The Captain is in the cockpit,” the computer replied. “Would you like me to call him for you?”

“No,” she muttered, focusing on her food. She’d go and talk to him herself when she was done eating. She wanted to know where they were going and when they’d get 47

Joanna Wylde

there. Time to start researching her new home, and figuring out whether or not she needed to find another ship to a better destination. She’d signed on to crews more than once to get transportation, and for the most part it wasn’t a bad way to travel. Lots of work and crappy food, but she’d survive.

She finished up her breakfast and dropped the plate into the galley’s cleaner. Then she marched purposefully toward the cockpit. The door was open, and she stepped in without asking permission. He sat in the pilot’s chair, apparently waiting for her to arrive. Just looking at him was a shock—every time she saw him, his face surprised her.

It was as if her mind’s eye never remembered his scar, the way it slashed across his face and twisted his expression into a perpetual snarl.

Why didn’t he get it fixed?

She almost asked the question, but managed to catch herself in time. Just because he was an ass didn’t mean she needed to act like one, too.

“Where are we headed?” she asked, settling herself down in the co-pilot’s chair as is if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He turned away from her, studying his instruments for a moment, then he spoke.

“It’s probably better if you don’t know,” he said finally. “I’m meeting with someone, and it really isn’t relevant to your situation.”

“Well, I think it’s rather important,” she replied. “I need to do some research, find out if it’s a good place for me to settle for a while.”

“It isn’t,” he replied coolly. “You’ll need to stay with me a bit longer than just this first stop, I think.”

“You may think that, but I’d really like to judge for myself,” she replied firmly. “I agreed to give you sex in exchange for a ride. I didn’t agree to become your indentured servant.”

“I’m well aware of that,” he said slowly. “But in this case, you won’t be able to get off quite yet. We’re meeting in open space—it’s been planned for months. There’s nowhere for you to go.”

The way he said it was so smug, so annoying, that it made her teeth clench. Smug bastard.

“Maybe I’d rather go with whoever you’re meeting,” she said pertly. Instead of getting angry, though, he just burst out laughing.

“I sincerely doubt that,” he said finally. “This guy makes me look pretty damn good. I think you’d be better off if you just stay out of sight while he’s here.”

“Afraid I’ll like him better than you?” she asked.

“No,” he said slowly, “I’m more afraid that he’ll kill one or both of us to protect his identity. He only expects me to attend the meeting, and he’s not a trusting kind of man.”

She shivered, and fell back in the seat, unsure of what to say. Jenna chimed a warning, and he turned to her.

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Jerred’s Price

“We’ll be jumping to hyperspace before too long. If you’re going to stay up here, you need to strap yourself in.”

She nodded, and reached around to grab the straps. This was always her least-favorite part of space flight. People who traveled a lot seemed to think it was no big deal, but the jump always made her feel queasy.

He seemed to go through the preparation checklist far too quickly for her comfort, as if he were barely noticing each of the details and checking the settings. He didn’t even do the math himself, trusting Jenna to feed him the numbers. She added sloppy piloting to his list of faults, in addition to being a jerk. Hopefully he wouldn’t get them killed.

That morose thought was the last she had before they twisted out of normal space with a gut-wrenching shudder. She reached to unhook her belt, wanting to go back to her cabin and lie down for a while, but he held out a hand to stop her.

“Go ahead and stay strapped in,” he said. “We’re only going to be in transit for about fifteen minutes, and then we’ll be out again.”

“Why?” she asked, startled. “We can’t go very far in 15 minutes.”

“That’s the point,” he said. “It’s not far at all. We only left normal space to keep anyone from following us. It wouldn’t occur to anyone that we’re only going a few light years from Transit Three.”

“Is this so we can meet your friend?” she asked. “The one you won’t tell me about.”

“Yes,” he replied. They fell silent for several minutes, and she contented herself with watching the patterns on the ship’s view screen. She knew they were mathematical calculations translated into colors by the computer, but they seemed like some kind of weird landscape after a while.

“Jenna, is that what you see through your sensors when we travel outside of normal space?” she asked abruptly. Jerred looked at her in surprise.

“Yes and no,” Jenna replied. “They are a visual representation of the mathematical explanations I am creating to understand and govern our current state. Thus they represent the data that governs our position. But my sensors are not capable of providing information on that which is around us at the moment.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because I am not being presented with data I have the capacity to detect.”

“Is that a fancy way of telling me that you can’t see anything?”

“Yes,” the computer said. “I can envision calculations that make our current state possible, but I cannot collect any data on that state.”

“Why not?’

“Because the very act of attempting to collect the data changes the data collected,”

Jenna finally said after a long pause. “Thus any data I collect is, on a certain level, being created by my collection. Thus I prefer to project images of the theoretical data, rather than any I might attempt to bring in from the outside.”

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Joanna Wylde

Gisele fell silent, wishing she hadn’t asked. Jenna was a weird computer.

“We’re ready to drop back into real space,” Jenna announced after a brief pause.

Even as she said it, another warning chimed, and the screen before them abruptly filled with stars.

And another ship. No, it was a space station. No ship was that big.

It was huge, much larger than anything Giselle had imagined. It bristled with armament, and several smaller ships hovered nearby. Not only could it destroy their ship like an insect, it could swallow them whole if it wanted to.

“I can see why you were nervous,” she muttered to Jerred. “I’ll stay in my cabin. No problem.”

“Good idea,” he replied dryly. “You might want to go there right now. I’m getting a message from them.”

She stood and walked quickly out of the room. There was something about that station that she really, really didn’t like. Perhaps it was the fact that it seemed to be pieced together from bits of smaller ships. She didn’t doubt for a moment that they were pirates.