Silver Bound (10 page)

Guy’s lids closed halfway, but he still watched her touch herself. He rasped, “I’m gonna lose it. Faster.”

White light sparkled in her vision, and she grasped for the pleasure, increasing the pace and pressure. She couldn’t keep her vision clear, couldn’t control her reactions. Her core pulsed, rhythmically contracting in a breathtaking climax. She groaned. “I’m coming.”

As her body shuddered in aftershocks, she squinted through the tears gathered in her eyes. His hips bucked up and his cock surged into his fist, tight and moving with forceful friction. Guy shook all over when he reached his peak.

“Jewel,” he nearly shouted.

His release lifted him off the chair, and he clamped his hand around his tip, catching the semen that made her mouth water for a taste. Before, when they’d been physically connected, she’d caught the edges of his emotions. This time, she sensed nothing from him, and though the agony she’d lived in for days dissipated, she missed the connection.

Guy slouched down in the chair and reached for a towel she hadn’t seen him put there. The harsh breathing in the room lulled her. She sagged against the bed while tremors coursed through her. The drying moisture on her hands and between her legs reminded her of what she’d just done. Her lips lifted in a contented smile that relieved the tense muscles in her face. Before she could revisit those moments and store away what she’d learned about pleasing her master, a piercing thud shook her, seemed to rattle through her skull.

She gripped her head to hold it together. The inner workings of her mind became a tangible force so real she could sense the crumbling within.

With a pop, the pinprick hole in the dam of her memories widened to a thin fissure. As if the programming were a physical barrier she could reach out and touch, she envisioned the tiny crack widening with a small tear. Reverberations throbbed through her and left her shaking, watching a memory play on a blank wall in her mind.

“It’s like watching you with another man,” her husband growled, his features hidden from her view as he rolled from on top of her, leaving behind the sticky residue of his semen. “Touch yourself. I want to watch you think of him while you masturbate. Go ahead.”

“Jewel?” The soft call bounced around like the word was trapped in a tunnel.

She gasped and sucked in air as if plopped up on the bank of the River Thantes, half-drowned.

“Are you all right? The punishment should have backed off. Why are you still in pain?”

“Guy,” she breathed in relief.

When her swimming vision cleared, she caught sight of him hovering over the bed, concern tightening his mouth.

“No. It’s not that.” She swallowed the bitterness invading her mouth. “I had a memory. My husband.”

“Ex-husband,” Guy insisted, his face blanking as he backed away. “As soon as we get your memory back, you can get in touch with him. But I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t know if it’d be a kindness to even talk to him since his wife is now an ex and is sexually bound to another man.”

Jewel had a strong suspicion her ex-husband had no more than a passing acquaintance with the concept of kindness.

“However you want to handle it, we’ll do it. I can’t really think of a way to let you go back to him, though. But if you want to, I’ll find a way if it kills me.” Guy’s expression remained bland, as if they’d never been intimate.

“No. I want to stay with you.” She didn’t dare move, even to clean away the evidence of what they’d just shared. The way he spoke chilled her.

“You say that now, but what do you think will happen when you get back your memories?”

“Let’s not find out. Take me home,” she pleaded. The word “home” curled around her tongue and softened the panic inside her. She’d been in Guy’s home. She knew that, quite utterly.

“I can’t take you home until you’re whole again.” Guy turned his back to her and strode toward the bathroom where he’d spent an inordinate amount of time the past few days.

She had no response and fought the sting of threatening tears when the door closed. Without him, the man she craved as much as she loved—a love she absolutely knew she’d always felt—she’d never be whole again.

The question was, did she deserve him? The memory that had surfaced, unbidden, had hinted that she’d cheated on her husband. She’d been an adulteress.

She didn’t want to remember herself. Not at all.

Per his adamant instruction, Jewel stayed close to Guy when they left their suite midcruise, walked through the sleepy liner in the early ship-hours and boarded a sleek little skimmer. The pilot released the clamps and, with a soft purr, the small shuttlelike craft floated away. Surrounded by dark, cold space in a small tin can, she didn’t want to go to the medship but couldn’t help the increase in her pulse, the excitement of an adventure overshadowing her worry.

“She’s a beauty,” Guy said to the blue-jumpsuited pilot who hadn’t looked at her even once. Since the man at the controls was the only other person on the skimmer, it looked to be a quiet trip.

The Spaceport pilot patted the top of his console and grinned over his shoulder at Guy, who filled the seat next to her with his legs jammed between the rows of bucket seats.

“This little hotrod will do sixty dextra-machs a second.” With a nod of his gray-streaked brown head, the pilot stroked the highly polished acrylic display. “She’s never let me down. She’s never jealous. And she gives me all the freedom to roam. Better than a woman.”

He winked and turned forward, flipping a switch that caused an immediate change in the hum of the engines. A small whine built. At first barely a whisper, it grew until it resembled the loud purr of a mountain lion.

How did she know how a mountain lion sounded?

The thrusters of the skimmer kicked in and the g-force pressed her body into the seat, bringing her to the present and away from a memory that skittered back into the shadows.

It seemed only moments before a station filled the screen. While the cruise liner was a rounded shape of modern design, the gangly construction outside the viewer hovered in space like a rectangle with boxy wings on its side and a thin tailfin off the back. Lines connected to solar sails shot off haphazardly. They glinted light from the distant star. The rest of the ship shone with a cloudy wash. Even the portals were muted a sickly yellow.

“We’re here,” the pilot pronounced with undue cheer.

“What’s her call sign?” Guy gazed out the viewer while he held his body away from her. He hadn’t touched her in hours, not since their encounter, had barely spoken and had clearly kept his passions in check. Not a glimmer of compulsion had come from her collar.

She should’ve been relieved. She wasn’t.

“That’s the
Sir Alec Jeffreys,
the only medship in the quadrant,” the pilot answered. “It’s a neutral station, Spaceport-maintained. No Terraloft craziness here.”

“Who’s it named after?” Guy did all the talking. Mute, she sat in her seat and stared at the boxy ship where she’d get her memories back.

“Some scientist. I don’t know.” The pilot clicked an overhead switch. “This is the
Haley
requesting berth on the
Jeffreys.
”

Over the crackling speaker, a comp droned, “Permission granted to bay twelve.”

“Here we go.” The pilot yanked on his flight stick and the skimmer rolled to the side, banking hard as the man yelped in glee.

Careful to keep her head tight against the seat, Jewel gripped the armrests and gritted her teeth. The force of the roll nearly had her bending double over her lap.

Guy chuckled. With the force of the turn pressing her tight into the bucket seat, she struggled to cant her head to see his wide grin. The smile rid his face of the deep-creased frown he’d carried in the past few days.

“Makes me miss taking my hopper over the mountain passes.” His grin vanished. In profile, his cheeks seemed more pronounced, as if he’d lost weight.

A whisper cascaded through her, almost within grasp, before it echoed in retreat. A soft remnant flashed.
Hold on, Jewel. This ravine is a wild ride.

She blinked away the dark speckles dancing in front of her.

Guy cleared his throat. “Maybe one day…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but she desperately needed to hear it. “One day?”

“Never mind. Wishful thinking.”

A puzzle piece slid home somewhere in the vicinity of her chest. Young and carefree, she’d snuck to his ranch, and they’d ridden his hopper in the hills and valleys near his home. Perhaps that was how she knew the sound of a mountain lion. Before, these leaks of memories had given her hope she’d remember her past with Guy. That he’d want her after she saw this doctor and he reversed the block. But now she feared the memories would bring more pain and rip away her only anchor. She reached across the seat and gripped his strong, callused hand.

Guy flinched but didn’t pull away. That was something, at least.

“The hookup shouldn’t take but a minute.” The pilot flipped switches here and there on the console. She hadn’t noticed the easing of the pressure holding her to her chair. “All set. Exit’s to port. I have to get on back for another fare. I’m a popular man today.”

The pilot arranged their disembarkment on the comm, pulled up a lever and threw a parting over his shoulder with a small wave. “Good docking to you.”

The harnesses retracted, and she rose with loose limbs to grip the seatback in front of her. With a steadying grasp on her arm, Guy led her off the skimmer and into a crowded landing bay.

“No point in delay.” He stepped into the din of passengers.

Freight barges puttered in the air between platforms in a cavernous dock open to all five levels. Sounds echoed before being muffled in the heavy metal of the decking. The medship had a functional look, all plain utilitarian sheeting. No softer touches, displayed artwork or plush seating. Arrows of different colors painted on the grated floor led the crowds to their destinations. With a few inquiries, Guy found a check-in station and a ship schematic display then hauled her behind him.

Along the walk to the lift, she couldn’t help but notice the difference in how strangers reacted to her. Guy’d sent for a few items from the cruise-liner gift shop. Special pink lipstick to cover the burnished cast of her lips. And a luxurious black scarf with a delicate weave to cover the circlet at her neck. With her lips and collar covered and her hands in matching ebony gloves, passerby didn’t recognize her as a silver-tip. They treated her as any woman. A skinny man in a dapper blue suit whistled and smiled at her as he passed.

Guy pulled her closer. “Damn rascals don’t know their manners ’round here.”

After traversing a few levels on the lift, they exited into an echoing hallway. At a T-intersection, Guy popped his head around the corner and back.

“Hold this,” he whispered and slung his satchel off to shove it in her hands. A reverent look on his face, he lifted out a belt lined with re-fill slugs. With a practiced maneuver, he had it around his waist and adjusted the fit until a phaser rode along his left hip.

She swallowed hard. “Are those allowed on station?”

“I entered a permit request.” At best, this was a non-answer, but she didn’t ask if he’d attained the permit. Besides, he kept talking in his low, serious tone while he frowned, scanning the hallway behind them. The voices in front of them had disappeared. “For a second I thought I heard Kalon.”

Her heart sped, thundering in her ears. “I’m glad you have protection. I don’t want him near you again.”

She sounded a bit fierce and nearly giggled because she couldn’t imagine being fierce, but their situation was too strange, too surreal for even hysterical laughter. She still didn’t feel a connection to the man they told her had been her husband. He’d done horrible things. Who was she to have married a man like that? She didn’t want to remember herself, a rebellious adulteress who married a thug.

“Could you wait a minute?” She wiped her hands down her dress again.

“What’s wrong, Jewel?”

No “sweetheart” today.

“Even if the memory block is removed, it’s not as if the collar will be. Wouldn’t it be better, since I’ll still be tied to you, wouldn’t it be better if I don’t remember?”

“I don’t think so.” Guy shook his head adamantly and pulled her near with a gentleness he hadn’t used since they left their room. Still, he didn’t close the distance between them completely. “Even if I agreed with you, we still need to talk with this doctor. He’s the sole researcher in the galaxy who’s interested in silver-tipping reversal. Only the rich own silver-tips, and where do you think research funding comes from? Maybe he’s got ideas on how to remove the collar, too.”

Her mouth was so parched, she couldn’t respond, only coughed into her hand as her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. What would she do, what would she be, if she weren’t Guy’s?

“Sweetheart, no matter what happens, I’ll take care of you. Don’t look so scared. It tears me up inside.”

The words soothed her a bit, but the “sweetheart” made up her mind. She’d do as he wished. Though, really, she didn’t have a choice if he ordered her.

With a reassuring smile, Guy accessed the ident-pad and the slider hummed open.

She took a deep breath, rotated her shoulders and stepped through the door.

***

Stomach twisted in knots, Guy resisted the urge to bundle Jewel into his arms and bolt, but the quiet waiting room held no surprises and was, in fact, empty. If for no other reason than to have a few moments when he wasn’t looking over his shoulder, he led Jewel to the nearest seat before prowling the deserted reception area. He didn’t have to wait long.

A sharp-featured man came through the door behind the desk and gave them a thorough inspection. About the same coloring and height as Guy, he was thinner to the point of appearing unhealthy. Despite the leanness, he exuded strength of will and confidence. The man had to be older, with a dusting of gray-white at his temples in his dark brown hair, but otherwise his age was indeterminate in the way of many affluent spacers. He walked into the waiting area with a slight limp nearly disguised by the elegance of a Terraloft and a unique, old-world flair. Beneath the ubiquitous white lab coat, he boasted an immaculate ensemble of gray tweed slacks, a black vest with gleaming buttons, and a fine white lawn shirt with ruffled cuffs extending beneath his coat sleeves to his knuckles.

Looking steadfastly into the man’s assessing blue eyes, which framed a hawkish nose and sharp features, he gave a perfunctory nod of greeting. “Sheriff of Rangetown, Guy Trident.”

“A long way from Grassland, aren’t you Sheriff?” The doctor’s deep question resonated with authority. This was a man who expected to be heeded.

“I go as far as it takes to get the job done,” he replied, used to the evasiveness of the Terraloft. He’d expected more directness from a man who’d sized him up with such efficiency and who didn’t dress with the same carelessness of the other space elite. Still, if the man played the usual games, this would be a long and frustrating meeting.

The aristocrat bowed, a deep bend at the waist, and Guy worked to hide his shock. The effortless way the doctor showed his respect was a nearly antiquated notion. A notion Guy happened to agree with. After all, respect had to be shown to others as well as earned. The tightness in his gut eased a bit.

“My name is Dr. Montgomery Wells. You’re here to discuss silver-tipping. For a case, is it?”

He slanted his body to the side, unaware until that moment that he’d positioned himself between Jewel and the doctor. “I’d like you to remove a memory block.”

Dr. Wells didn’t flinch. He didn’t move a muscle, kept his gaze steady and didn’t acknowledge Jewel, though he had to know she sat in the chair, waiting quietly.

“I’m sorry.
Jeffreys
guidelines deny treatment to any silver-tips for any reason, life-threatening conditions included.”

The doctor started to turn, but Guy couldn’t let the matter end here. His hand jerked toward his phaser, but he quelled the movement. Careful to keep his tone even, he tried again. “I have it on good authority that you can remove a memory block.”

“I don’t know where you heard that rumor. Removing a block would be a risky venture, against
Jeffreys
policy, and most likely would leave the slave in a worse condition. If I even knew the procedure, I’d advise you with the utmost concern not to take such a course. There are more repercussions than you could possibly imagine.”

With a quick departure that bordered on rudeness, Wells retreated and nearly shut the door before he stopped and glanced in Jewel’s direction. His expressionless face dipped into a momentary frown. “I’m sorry.”

A desperate, instinctive plea came from Guy. He didn’t know how he knew the significance, but he did. He blurted at the closing portal, “What do I do about her memory leaks?”

He held his breath. Not a sound rose above the faint hum of the medship’s vibrating lifelines coursing through every level. Seconds ticked by, his lungs burning from the absolute stillness. Slowly, the door opened again, but the doctor didn’t move from the archway. His frown deepened, and his eyes, bordered with dark smudges beneath, squinted at Jewel.

“She’s having leaks?”

“Yes. She’s remembered she had a husband.”

“Damn.” The doctor paled. “I’ll talk to her. You can’t influence her in any way when I give her the pros and cons.”

A giddy sense of relief flowed over him, and he nearly whooped to the ceiling. “You’ll help us.”

“No. I’ll help her. If she wants it.”

His smile died as quickly as it came. Jewel had been scared, hesitant. She might balk, not go through with it. He hoped to hell she’d see reason. “I’d never influence her with the collar, but I need to talk to her.”

“No.” Dr. Wells shook his head with force. “No. My way, or not at all. I have an indicator that lets me know if your wrist unit is sending to her collar. You will in no way exert pressure on her. Got that?”

“Of course.” He didn’t like the implication that he’d be so underhanded, but Dr. Wells didn’t know he was an anomaly among the spacefaring.

“Fortunately, I had a feeling I’d need it, so I brought the sensor with me.” After pulling out a bracelet similar in size to the one on Guy’s wrist, Dr. Wells clamped it over Guy’s control unit. A soft glowing red light blinked rapidly before it settled into a constant unrelenting scarlet. The doctor studied the light on the small display and instructed, “Let’s test it. Send her a mild sexual overture.”