Jerred's Price (4 page)

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.

24

Jerred’s Price

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 25

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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.”

26

Jerred’s Price

“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 27

Joanna Wylde

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 28