For a minute or two, she thought she was back on the Kalquorian transport that had taken her off Earth. Then she remembered she’d made it to Kalquor and the Matara Complex. She was a woman sought after, a woman enjoying all the thrills and pleasures denied before.
She felt the legs tangled in hers. Then she realized there was not just a man in front of her but behind her as well. Oh hell. Where had she ended up last night? She’d gone overboard with the bohut, that was for sure.
Cissy’s thoughts were sluggish as she fought to remember the night before. Dancing at the concert. Drinking. Who were the boys she’d played with? She couldn’t even remember the faces of her dates last night. Well, this was going to be awkward as hell. After the past few weeks, all the young men looked alike.
Cissy was readying excuses as to why she had to jump up and leave right away when her brain decided it would join her body in wakefulness. She remembered now, all right. But not the men she’d met up with the night before. She remembered the men she’d ended up with ... men with faces she’d not likely ever forget if she lived to be 200. She’d sucked down the bohut just to keep them out of her head ... and in her drunken state she’d let them in other places.
I am never going to drink that much again. Oh fuck, I’m in some serious shit now.
She was afraid to open her eyes. She did so anyway. An expanse of brown skin greeted her gaze, and she slowly tilted her head back to look into Imdiko Wal’s attractive face.
He smiled and became stunning. “I thought you might be waking when the rhythm of your breathing changed. Good morning, Matara.”
Before she could respond, a big body reared up behind Wal. Rolat grinned down at her. That meant that behind her, spooned up nice and tight, his hard cocks nestled in the crack of her ass could only be—
She turned her head, feeling like the heroine in a horror film. There lay the devastatingly handsome monster himself, lit in golden light from the vid playing a morning sunrise. Dramok Diltan. He too was awake and looking at her.
Cissy realized something else she’d forgotten the night before, something eclipsed by booze and lust. Something that made her nauseous and ready to cry all at once.
“Oh blessed Buddha. What the hell did I do?”
Rolat’s voice rumbled like thunder. “Enjoyed yourself, I hope.”
Cissy blinked at him, feeling as if the tidal wave of guilt would crush her before she could drown. Flailing wildly, trying to get out from between Diltan and Wal, she snapped, “You’ve all got to get up. You need to leave right now.”
Diltan had his superior you-exasperating-female look on again. “By the ancestors, now what is your problem?”
Cissy could have slugged him. “What do you think? I fucked you! You’re dating my sister!”
Wal cocked his head, looking confused. “I thought we’d established that we would not continue to pursue that avenue. Besides, we were not exclusive to Tasha at this early juncture. In turn, she was not expected to be faithful to us. That is the nature of the lottery.”
Were they dense? Did they think any of that mattered? Cissy spluttered, “Tasha doesn’t know that you’re giving up your interest in her. She doesn’t know! And I’m her sister!”
Rolat seemed as perplexed as the other two. “The lottery contract states that all parties may pursue multiple interests at once. We’re allowed to demonstrate our attraction to all of our options, which includes you.”
Wal added, “You said Tasha wasn’t that interested in us either, which was already obvious.”
Cissy managed to untangle herself from bodies and linens. She lunged off the sleeping mat to stand at its foot. She glared at the three men. “Tasha wasn’t interested, but what if she changed her mind? No matter what the lottery contract states, I’ve got no excuse for this behavior, not when it comes to my own flesh and blood. Shit. This is screwed up. Please leave.”
Diltan slid off the bed and stood, facing Cissy with a severe look. “I think we need to talk this over. Perhaps we should include Tasha in the conversation if you believe there is a problem.”
Cissy tried not to notice how stupendously stunning the man looked. How amazing they all looked, truth be told. She was pissed off with herself more than any of them, but Diltan always made an easy target. She wanted to lash out at him, throw some of the blame his way.
Stop it. They’re right about the lottery rules. He and the other two haven’t done anything wrong. It’s me. I fucked up and I only have myself to blame.
One thing was for certain; she didn’t want to discuss anything with Diltan no matter how innocent he was in the matter. What she needed was the time and space to figure out how to admit to her sister what she had done.
“I’m waiting, Cecilia.” Diltan crossed his arms over his chest.
His domineering attitude made her fired-up temper flare hotter. She went on the attack.
“Okay Diltan, let’s talk. Why don’t you start with why my cousin Lindsey doesn’t like you? I’m interested in why she hinted we should avoid getting involved with you.”
Cissy didn’t know what she’d expected the Dramok’s reaction to be. It certainly wasn’t seeing him go deathly pale. The man’s jaw snapped shut so hard she thought he might break his teeth.
His clanmates looked at him with confusion. Rolat asked, “What’s this about, Diltan?”
In a tone tight with fury Diltan snarled, “It’s something we don’t need to discuss in front of her.” His glare was enough to make Cissy cringe. Skewering her with that look, he told her, “At least Matara Lindsey can be counted on for discretion. You might learn a thing or two about that.”
He turned on his heel and stormed into the bath facility. Cissy heard the water run and loud splashing.
Recovering from her surprise at his reaction, she called out, “Are you saying I have no discretion?”
The water switched off. Diltan came back into the sleeping room. Without pausing, he grabbed up his pile of clothes from the floor and kept going towards the door that led to the greeting room. As he went, he said, “It is not your strong suit, from what I’ve seen.”
Unmindful of her nudity, Cissy hurried out after him. Diltan stood in the middle of the room, yanking his clothes on. He seemed intent on pretending she wasn’t there.
Hurt by his refusal to look at her, Cissy yelled, “You don’t know anything about me, you pompous, self-important jerk!”
He stepped into his shoes, finishing his quick dressing. He brought his eyes up to stare at her. “I know this.”
With that, he made two quick strides to stand in front of her. Before she could react, Diltan grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her close. His mouth fell on hers.
Cissy instinctively parted her lips. Diltan’s tongue forged in, taking possession and kissing her soundly. At the same time, the hand not holding her in place slid over her pussy, stroking and fondling. Cissy’s senses lit, arousal filling her gut and making her clutch the man with need. Honey slid from her to cover Diltan’s talented fingers. She moaned, grinding hard against his touch.
The Dramok released her and stepped away. Cissy reached for him before she remembered she was mad at him. That she’d already screwed up once with men that courted her sister. Her fingers trembled as she forced her hands down to her sides.
She didn’t miss how one corner of Diltan’s mouth twisted up in a moment’s victory before he called to his clanmates still in the bedroom.
“I’ll be waiting for you two at the complex’s main entrance.”
With that, Diltan turned his back on Cissy and left her quarters. She stood there, confused, angry, and crazy-aroused.
Behind her, she heard the disappointment in Wal’s voice as he told Rolat, “Damn. This is not how I anticipated starting the day.”
* * * *
Diltan’s head ached. His thoughts churned in chaos. It was damned hard to smile as if nothing was wrong as he passed aides, sycophants, and fellow council members. It felt like it took forever to navigate the corridor that led from his chambers to Councilman Maf’s.
First and foremost were his concerns over Cissy. He could have handled that situation better than he had, but her bringing up Matara Lindsey had thrown him off. That was a can of worms he wanted nothing to do with opening. The thought of his behavior with the empress’ sister two years ago was enough to make his face burn in humiliation.
Dumbest thing I’ve ever done and I’ve done some phenomenally stupid things in my life. Damn it! At least the Imperial Sister held to her promise to not tell anyone about it.
Diltan couldn’t blame Lindsey for feeling she had to warn her cousins about him. He’d been reprehensible in his dealings with her.
He could even understand Cissy’s sense of betrayal to her sister after sleeping with his clan. Though the rules of the lottery were clear, Diltan had learned that Earther ideas of morality tended to be much different from Kalquorian expectations. Women not repressed by the old specter of their former government still dealt with the memories of its punishments. Had Diltan not been so rattled by the mention of Lindsey McInness, he would have been more accepting of Cissy’s concerns this morning.
Okay, he’d messed up. Surely there was some way he could make it up to Cissy. It pleased him to know that despite her sometimes rough behavior she had that kind of decency.
The very decency I’ve fallen short of.
The memory curdled Diltan’s guts. If Cissy learned what he had proposed to Lindsey, her reaction would be withering at best. It shamed him to know he was capable of something so low.
Sometimes my ambition sickens me
, he thought miserably.
I can only imagine how much it would disgust Cissy.
It didn’t occur to him to wonder why he attached so much importance to how Cissy would feel if she learned Diltan had once tried to take Lindsey from her clan.
He drew near Maf’s chambers and fought to bring his scattered thoughts into focus. Right now he needed to deal with the other source of stress in his life: Emperor Zarl’s records. Diltan paused just outside Maf’s door and drew a deep breath. His colleague would know what to do. That would go a long way to relieving the brutal headache that pulsed behind Diltan’s eyes.
Bolstering his resolve, Diltan stepped into the offices of Councilman Maf. Maf’s assistant Dramok Sitrel, a man who managed to be handsome despite a long face and thin lips, stood up from behind the desk where he worked. He bowed. Diltan returned the courtesy.
In his usual quiet, cultured tone, Sitrel smiled at him. “Councilman Diltan, always a pleasure. What may I help you with this morning?”
Explain women to me and why I act the way I do around those strange and wonderful creatures
was on the tip of Diltan’s tongue. Instead, he responded, “I don’t suppose Councilman Maf would have a moment to speak to me?”
Sitrel gave him a pleasantly concerned look. “He is always glad to see you, but at the moment he is meeting with one of his constituents.”
Diltan nodded. He knew he should have commed instead. “That’s all right. I’ll be glad to make an appointment when it is more convenient for him, if you don’t mind.”
Sitrel sat down and tapped at his computer. “He has time open this afternoon. Will that be soon enough?”
“That will be fine.”
More tapping. For some reason, it made Diltan’s headache worse.
At least Sitrel was a quiet man. Most of the time people were unaware of his presence in a room. “May I inquire as to the subject of discussion?” he asked Diltan.
“Emperor Zarl’s records. I’ve come upon a concern that would benefit from his objective opinion.”
Sitrel paused in his typing and gave Diltan a look that was sharper than usual. “Will you excuse me for just a moment, Councilman?”
“Of course.”
Sitrel stood, bowed, and announced himself at the closed door that led into Maf’s personal office. After a few moments, it opened for him and he went in.
Diltan watched all this with bemusement. So Maf wanted to know anything to do with the Imperial records, did he? Once he heard the revelations Diltan had come across, he’d no doubt feel vindicated. He was about to get the answers he’d demanded for so long. Now he could join in Diltan’s struggle as to what to do with them.
Less than a minute after going into Maf’s inner chambers, Sitrel came out again. At his side was a Kalquorian woman of singular beauty. Diltan recognized her right away: Matara Feyom.
The statuesque woman was the lifemate of another councilman, and a well-known face around the Government House. Too well known. The gossip surrounding her was thick and not complimentary. There were those who made remarks discussing how many of Feyom’s dozen children were the progeny of her clan. Even Diltan, who felt rumor mongering to be the activity of lower, petty minds, could not help overhearing such tales on occasion.
Had Feyom been leaving another councilman’s inner chambers, Diltan had to admit he might have thought the worst himself. He hated that his thoughts turned in that direction, making him no better than other judgmental men. For all Diltan knew, Feyom made it a habit to visit other councilmen to argue for her Dramok’s political agenda.
And even if she was the kind of person others alleged her to be, it was not Diltan’s place to condemn her. He’d done his share of unethical activities. Matara Lindsey’s face flashed in his mind, and Diltan felt that squirmy sense of shame in his gut once more. No, it was not his place to judge, not by far.
Besides, it was poor, twisted Maf Feyom had been visiting. The idea of such an amazing example of femaleness having a liaison with the deformed Dramok was laughable. Feyom shined dazzling bright.
She did not appeal to Diltan beyond her surface beauty. As he bowed in respect to the lifebringer, he reflected how hard her otherwise perfect face was. Though Feyom’s appearance was flawless, she missed something, something warm and lively. The Kalquorian woman would have benefitted from a touch of the fire that Cissy Salter possessed. Diltan thought his lover of the night before compared well against the woman who gazed at him with cold calculation.
Trying to put his mind back on the here and now, Diltan straightened from his bow. “Good day, Matara,” he said before glancing at Sitrel. “I do hope I am not the reason your visit is cut short?”