Silver Bound (9 page)

“Yes, sir. Didn’t have time. Needed to get you this soon as I could. This is evidence the sheriff is on the take and smuggling steroids on planet.”

The mayor scowled. “I’d started to suspect. Just a minute.” He took the bag and pushed a button on the housewide intercom. “Jenkins, I have a situation for you. Call in the sheriff. And send notices to the town counsel for an emergency meeting.”

The mayor nodded at him, the only time he’d ever looked at Guy with near approval. He kept tight control on the grin that wanted to escape.

Then the mayor frowned again and, for the first time, a flash of concern and sympathy crossed his face. “Since you’re here, you can tell Jewel goodbye. She leaves today.”

“Today?” he whispered. He stumbled a bit. To keep himself upright, he gripped the doorframe. Time seemed to stop and sit on his chest like a half-ton bull.

“Guy?” She stood there—in a black dress. Her cleavage pushed high, her pale skin revealed above the full skirt. Her face, nearly white, accented the dark circles under her eyes.

They were alone, in the doorway to her father’s home, where anyone could see them. When had Mayor Quinn left? How long had he stood here like an idiot? It didn’t matter. Jewel was leaving.

“You’re leaving?”

“Today. I’m to be married.”

“In black?” He couldn’t help it. He laughed, a hysterical and harsh cough.

“He arrived last night. No warning. Wants to leave today.”

“But you can’t marry him. Not after all I’ve done for you. You said you wouldn’t. That you’d—” he choked on the words, “—marry me.”

Tears slipped down her face but she remained rigid, as still as a porcelain doll.

His voice cracked on his whisper. “Please, Jewel.”

She ran to him and threw her arms around him. “I have no choice. This is what my mother wanted. Please don’t make this any harder.”

With a moan, she lifted her head up and slammed her mouth against his. Before his spinning world cleared, before he could wrap his arms around her and hold tight, she’d fled down the hall.

And took his heart with her.

Dr. Montgomery Wells slid to a halt. The light glinted off his wife’s silver-toned lips, and the constriction in his chest struck him anew. The gut-wrenching unfairness of life sucker-punched him, a feeling he’d never quite prepared for, had almost grown to expect but had never became inured to after two long years.

Two long, bloody, heart-wrenching, soul-sucking years. The gods could have come up with no worse torture than taking a man’s wife and binding her passions to another man, but they had, of course. That scenario was bad enough, but fate had made it unbearable. Lady Aissa Wells never desired him, while he ached for her night and day. Instead, she was struck almost nightly, and frequently at odd intervals of the day, with the blinding sexual drive that emanated from the man she was enslaved to.

Fate was a cold-hearted bitch. The man in question was his own brother, who’d unknowingly been the dupe. The three of them lived in a bizarre triangle that threatened to rip them all apart, into tiny pieces small enough that the cleaning bots would never find them.

When Montgomery’d gotten his hands on the person responsible—his enemy and lifelong competition for research funds, Paulus Keen—he’d choked the life from the man, spent his fury kicking the lifeless carcass into a pulp, and spaced his lifeless form. Not a day he’d been proud of, and a day that tormented his dreams, but he’d not take back the retribution. Dr. Wells hadn’t existed that day. Only Montgomery.

Nobody trespassed on his family, on his wife, without the debt being paid tenfold.

Except for his own brother.

“Lady Wells.” In the middle of the Taphgan rug, he stopped pacing and nodded to her in his usual aloof manner. He’d become cold, hard and difficult to be around, but he couldn’t stop himself. Of course, his wife blamed him, but there was no cure for that injustice. “How is Thomas today?”

“Your brother is fine. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Damn the woman. She might accuse in words, but her soft entreaty nearly soothed his beast. Clutching the back of the antique settee in their classically elegant receiving area, he stared at the ornate chandelier above her slight body and piled-high ebony hair. With the same weakness he’d failed to conquer since the uneasy truce, he couldn’t look at her, but he couldn’t let her go.

Why not ask his brother, ask after his welfare? Because they hadn’t exchanged words in two years, and the only reason his younger brother was still alive was that his life ensured hers. But he didn’t say that. And most days he acknowledged Thomas as a victim as well, but it was always harder on the days his gut wrapped itself in knots the moment he sensed her presence.

“If either of you is in need of anything, let my assistant know.” Montgomery didn’t allow himself the self-pity any longer. He turned his back on his wife and left their quarters, left the aristocratic trappings that didn’t mesh with the utilitarian medship all three of them hid on, in complete denial of circumstances.

Not for the first time, he wished to never set foot back inside.

The early morning hour meant the peaceful hallways rang with his footsteps on the metallic plating. Without passing another person, he made his way from the rear section of the ship down two levels of grated stairwell, near the clamoring engine room. The research wing of the hospital smelled of exhaust and chemical cleaners. Outside the reception office to his laboratory, he gathered his morose thoughts and caught his breath around the constriction in his chest that had grown tighter with every step away from the only woman he’d ever loved. He’d failed her miserably.

He swiped his thumb over the ident-pad, and the hatch swooshed open.

“Uletia, how is my favorite assistant this morning?” The reception desk sat in an expansive room of glass and steel, the plush chairs around the walls all empty. He greedily inhaled the aroma of cafeteen. The routine of his work life kept him from utter collapse, and this motherly, rotund woman had helped him through the worst of it.

“Your only, underpaid, highly skilled assistant is well, Doctor.” She held out the mug of the life-saving elixir and waited for him to take his first sip.

Glorious. The pleasure was visceral, and practically the only bodily pleasure he allowed himself since he’d last touched his wife.

Stop it.

“What do you have me doing this week, assistant? I’m thinking of clearing my docket and taking a shuttle down to Taphgan to get some fresh air for a few days.” With desperation, he clung to the idea of getting away from the torture and willed himself to stop thinking of his wife. His damned
wife,
and he couldn’t touch her.

Stop it, this instant. You have work to do.

While Uletia checked the U-panel for his schedule, he sipped the hot beverage and planned the latest tweak in his experimental collar inhibitor.

“Ah, a mayor from that terraformed planet, Grassland, made an appointment for one of their sheriffs. Guy Trident. He’s due this week. He needs information on silver-tip memory retrieval.”

His mood plummeted further.

Perhaps he needed more than to move out of his quarters, never to return. He should turn his back on this job, his research, this ship, his family. Instead of threats to take a vacation that he’d never follow through, he should walk away and try to find peace. If he left, perhaps his wife and his brother could find peace as well.

“I’ll be in my office. Send me his communiqués. I’ll take a look.”

He straightened his slumped shoulders and walked through the sterile lab.

Undeniably bound, Montgomery was as enslaved as his wife.

***

Guy couldn’t stop wanting Jewel. No matter how many games of halo-castle, and after two days it had to be hundreds, his body itched from the tumult of running hot and cold. On fire for her one minute, the next he ruthlessly banked the lust in a stranglehold. No matter how much he agonized over their close quarters, she was nearing her breaking point. He was helpless.

Angry.

Horny.

He hated himself for his inability to act like a man instead of a rutting beast. Every time her collar activated, her pain increased. Today he had to find her relief. Moments ago, he’d caught a glimpse of her freaking
shadow
and he got hard. In return, she broke into a sweat, her lips pinched in a tight line, and curled into a ball on the sofa.

For heaven’s sake, all because he saw her outline stretched across the floor, the silhouette of her full breasts tapering to her small waist as her hand went up to brush her hair back, pushing her chest out in a leisurely stretch.

He wanted to kiss and hold her, but it’d make it worse. His fists had left a dent in the bathroom wall, where he’d hidden for a few moments to catch his breath and instead decided to release some steam. Didn’t help.

Releasing steam, yeah, what a joke. He needed to get off. That’s what he really needed. That’s what she needed, too. He couldn’t even jack off because she’d feel it and be worse off than before.

He had to face the truth. Jewel’d convinced herself she was biding time. That when she had her memory back, they’d fall into bed, like the lovers they weren’t, and she’d be relieved of the collar’s backlash. He knew something she didn’t. She wouldn’t fall into his bed when—and dammit,
if,
because there were no damn guarantees—she got her memories back. She’d taken a man with higher status before, had left Guy behind for greener pastures. Hell, he didn’t even have status. He was the same man, a poor rancher’s son. She was still high society, meant for a better man.

Besides, the moment she was herself again, she’d want to find her son. Maybe she still loved her husband, though he didn’t know how she could love a psychopath. Guy wouldn’t be in the equation at that point.

He froze in place, and his torso seized as if he’d been sucker-punched.
She might still love her husband.

Same as he’d done for five years, he refused to acknowledge the idea she loved another man. The insidious worm of doubt ate at the back corner of his mind and fueled the frustration higher. Maybe he should let it out to fester. At least the black mood would quell his lust. He slammed his eyes shut and turned his musings to rational and less torturous thoughts.

This puzzle, this intrigue he and Jewel were caught in, hadn’t gotten his full attention while he’d been wrapped up, running here and there. This mess had to be uncovered, for everyone’s sake, especially the little boy he hadn’t let himself dwell on. Jewel had a son.

Arms crossed, he paced the small room.

He’d managed a transmission to Quinn this morning. Jewel’s father hadn’t gotten word on Jared, but he’d teamed with Brice, and they were trying to get through to
Geanus Station.
If they could get verification the boy was all right, they could concentrate on what to do about Jewel. He didn’t know Jared, but it didn’t matter. Every moment spent with Jewel added one more strand to the web she’d been winding around him for his entire life.

He stopped midpace. The Jewel of four days ago might’ve chosen her son over her memory, her freedom, but this Jewel didn’t have an awareness of Jared. He’d be aware for her. He’d make sure she got her son back. If he suffered along the way, so be it, but he’d had enough of
her
suffering.

His fist hit the pad at the door and the panel swished open.

He couldn’t wipe this all away. He had no wand to wave to bring her son onto this pleasure liner in a poof of gypsy magic. While they were holed up here, the boy had his grandfather on his trail, and as soon as Guy could find a way, he’d be on the case until he got it done.

He squared his shoulders when the frail figure on the couch shifted in the dim light.

For now, he’d give Jewel some relief, and if that meant he’d get some too, that was just incidental. His cock surged, hard and long. The groan from the couch called to him like a siren song he couldn’t resist a moment longer. The collar responded to his lust and prompted her to fulfill his wishes.

There’d been no other choice than to go through the claiming, but if he’d known the compulsion would build, never easing even when he’d battled down his interminable erections, he might’ve found another way. Too late now for regrets.

The Sheriff of Rangetown picked up the love of his life and cradled her against his chest. Her arms locked around his neck, and her heavy lids parted enough for the pain to radiate out to grip him around the heart. The glittering in her eyes sparkled like sapphires, so precious that he trembled and crushed her head to his shoulder.

Unable to bear how haggard and pale her face had become in the past two days, his lungs stuttered. He took a gulp of air. Her scent teased him, honeysuckle, musky, aroused. She whimpered and pressed her nose against the tight, hot skin of his neck.

No more. No more pain.

He carried her to bed and shut off his conscience.

Guy ripped back the covers of the bed. The satiny sheets gleamed pale yellow. Alone, tossing and turning, Jewel’d slept there for the past two nights. He’d taken the couch. The damn thing was too short and his feet hung off the end. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since the night before Mayor Quinn’s plea for help.

With care, he tried to ease Jewel onto her back, but she clung to him, opening her mouth on his throat and leaving a trail with her tongue. His fingers contracted, gripping her leg with one hand, and without his volition, the heady temptation of her breast with the other.

He groaned. He couldn’t control his hands, which sought her delicious curves like a wasp missile to the plasma exhaust of a battle cruiser.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweetheart. We’re going to get off, but the way I want it. The way I tell you to do it,” he rasped. “Understand?”

“Oh, yes, I’ll do whatever you want,” she whispered in a throaty plea.

She didn’t let him go but pulled him tighter. He collapsed on top of her in a heap. They slid on the slick sheets. He sprawled to keep them from shooting off the other side. Limbs entangled, lungs gusting with exertion, and the slide of their bodies hit him broadsided. A well of emotion rose in his chest so thick and fast, he nearly gasped in overload. Control in serious danger, he nearly gave in, but he gritted his teeth against the urge to lift the hem of her dress.

Honor shredded to tatters when she grasped his heavy cock and squeezed. The weave of his britches chafed his sensitive flesh. His balls drew up, ready to spill, and he shut his eyes against the white rush of heat shooting up from his toes. He grasped his mangled convictions before he tore off their clothes and plunged inside her with abandon.

“Damn, woman.” He might self-combust right on top of her. “Give me a second.”

Her fingers fell away and she paused like the wind in the dusty planes of Grassland before the sandstorm marauded everything in its path. Not a good direction of thought, that. Marauding.

“Guy?” Her concerned face, so dear and eager to please, froze, on the verge of collapsing into pain.

“This morning when I had that work to do, made those calls, I did a little checking.” His cock surged against her side before he contained the urge to rock into her, but now that she lay under him, he didn’t want to leave. There was no way they’d make it off this bed without making love if he didn’t get his mind on his plan. A plan that’d satisfy them both, as well as his promise to keep her safe. Un-marauded.

By sheer will, he contained the urge to dry hump her hip. His lip quirked in self-derision. It’d be a miracle if he wasn’t a slobbering idiot before he got Jewel some portion of her life back.

She brought her hands to his shoulders and kneaded him, stroking and massaging the stiffness away. She had great hands.

Don’t think about her hands and where you want them until you finish speaking your piece.

“What did you check into?” She placed light butterfly kisses along his jaw as she continued to rub his back while the soft fabric of his tunic kept her skin from his. Small protection when he wanted to chew her clothes off.

That might have been a whimper escaping him, but he was coming apart, little by little every day. He had to knock some sense into himself. He shook his head and managed to speak without garbling every word. He even sounded like he was in possession of his wits and knew what he was doing. “As long as we go about this my way, then the compulsion on your collar will go back to level zero.”

Eyes widened and her panting grew faster. “Okay. What are your orders?”

“I don’t like the sound of that. I don’t want to order you, but I am, tonight. It’s the only way to get that programming to back off. There are ten levels of punishment for not answering the call from my wrist unit to your collar. I think you’re probably on level eight. I don’t think either one of us wants you to be on anything but level zero.”

“I understand. Tell me what you desire.”

He kissed the tip of her nose and put his forehead to hers. Unable to shift without their bodies rubbing together in all the right ways, in all the wrong circumstances, he slowly lifted off her to give them breathing room.

As much to convince her as to put some distance between them, he put on an air of authority, haughty and slightly cool. The programming must sense a real sexual encounter and Jewel herself needed to believe she’d fulfilled his wishes. That last was crucial. Otherwise the punishment level wouldn’t throttle back all the way. If he saw that crease between her eyes again, the outward show of her discomfort, he’d be between her thighs the rest of the night and unable to look at himself in the mirror for the rest of his life.

Time to play the role. He, master. Her, slave. Silly though it was since he was absolutely slave to her slightest concern. More than anything, he wanted to take her to bed and learn her. Find all her ticklish places, all the spots that made her moan, all the little shivers of delight when she responded to him. But not tonight. Not like this, with her unable to defend herself even with her own thoughts. Probably not ever. But he could dream. Dammit, he would
dream.

He intended to remember this night, hoard it away and take it out on the lonely nights in his future. In that split second, he gave up. He’d never marry, never find a woman like Jewel, and it wasn’t fair to anyone to have a man more in love with a memory than reality. His heart would forever be faithful to her, no matter if she lived far away from Grassland with her ex-husband and child. His skin constricted across his trembling muscles.

“Here goes.” Guy hoped to hell he could keep his hands off her. He couldn’t make promises about his mouth, though. He shuddered and crouched over her.

“Take off your clothes for me. Nice and slow.” Then he lied, to give her more assurance that this was exactly what he wanted. As her master. Yes, quite the lie because he hadn’t dared to dream of her for five years. That was a lie, too. He’d dreamed, but he didn’t dare acknowledge it in light of day. “I’ve imagined you like this, and you’re going to do it just like I say, so I can enjoy every minute of it.”

Hands off her.

He clenched his jaw against the urge to lick his way down her body. Better not let his mouth in on the action either. With a light brush that shivered through him and set his hair on edge, he gave her one last chaste kiss on those delectable silver lips and crawled backward off the bed. The wispy aroma of honeysuckle flirted across his senses, and he nearly leaped away from her, as eager to get started as to flee from the deepening mire.

After disengaging the deck locks on the carved wood legs, he pulled one of the chairs over next to the bed. Erection taut and obvious, he sprawled back and gripped the padded arms of the chair. “Go ahead, sweetheart, strip for me.”

“If that is your desire.” Trembling fingers plucked at the tie of the pink wrap. Though her nerves had taken over and she shook visibly, she finally managed to part the belt.

One delicate shoulder shrugged the dress aside to bare her breast. The fabric clung to her erect nipple and held it in precarious enticement. Mouth watering, he gripped the arms of the chair until the sturdy wood creaked. Then she rolled her other shoulder and the dress fell to pool about her waist. Silver points tightened on her flushed chest. Those erect nipples begged to be suckled, nipped, swallowed in his ravenous mouth, but he stayed put, afraid to even allow his chest to rise and fall lest he stumble out of the chair to get closer. To touch. To grab tight and never let go.

“I’m going insane,” he muttered.

Jewel’s soft lips parted. Eyes glistening even in the low light, she stared at him with a hint of sadness, a look she shouldn’t wear, one he’d rarely seen on her face that until five years ago had twinkled at him as if she knew a secret he didn’t. “This is what you want?”

“Yes,” he croaked. He wanted much more, but he also wanted this. He wanted everything. Could he take much more before he trampled down his noble intentions in his rush to consume? Nobody but himself quite understood that loneliness he’d tried to squelch and leave behind, but that avarice, that animal that hungered for Jewel clawed to get free.

Damn, but he throbbed everywhere.

“Lay back and spread your legs.” He slammed his eyes closed, gripped the chair tighter and strove to keep his ass on the chair. He’d be hard-pressed to go through with this as planned if he touched her, wet and willing.

That’s not Jewel. It’s not the miss you’ve always loved. This is just pretend. It’s not her. You never let yourself think of her this way before, did you? For real and in the flesh. You can’t without losing yourself, can you?

He shifted in the chair. His cock really wanted to get this show on the road, and though the man usually ruled it, his lust knew he’d get relief soon, and it wanted it
now.

“Watch me. Look at the man who owns you.” Planned words that skated on the edge of a truth he harbored. This was an act, but she needed to believe it was real as much as he needed to believe he was pretending.

Lids cracked open, he checked to ensure she obeyed. Of course she would. She had no choice.
Choice.
He latched onto that word and managed to retrieve some of his sanity. In some way it was his fantasy but, in truth, he wanted to initiate their connection with tenderness and love. He wanted her forever, as wife, as lover, as mother to his children. For now, this was what he’d take, and maybe it’d be all he could get.

Supine, Jewel lifted her head, her gaze searching for him beyond the foot of the bed. For now, he managed to keep his perusal on her face and didn’t dare to take in her body.

“Prop yourself up on the pillows,” he ordered.

Slender arms reached for the fluffy pillows. She shoved them behind her head and positioned herself. “Like this?”

“Push the dress all the way off.”

Her shapely legs fell together in modesty. She was by far the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld, but she was different, more a caricature of the real, living, smart-mouthed Jewel. Already, the etched lines in her face relaxed. She believed they were fulfilling his sexual fantasies. A relieved shudder moved through him and strengthened him, allowed him to sit back and enjoy. Body finally relaxed, his mind clear, his muscles released their tension even while his cock tightened in anticipation of finally finding relief.

“Move your hips a little to the left. That’s a good girl. Now spread your legs again.” She parted her thighs and a hint of silver winked at him. “Wider, let me see your beauty.”

“Wide enough?” she asked and bit her lip.

“Perfect.”

He did his best to view her dispassionately though her blush nearly covered her body. The metallic sheen of her outer lips heightened the effect of the pink petals they guarded. Even there, though the nanobots weren’t as dense and didn’t alter the delicate color of her, the heightened shine heralded his ownership. The collection of wet and slick sensitive folds grew redder and plumped with swollen desire as he watched. That pussy, readied and eager, belonged to him.

Now.

He couldn’t wait a second longer.

“Let your knees fall open and look at me,” he demanded. Possessive lust coursed through him.

His shirt hit the floor in a flat second. His hips lifted, and he shoved his pants to his shins before toeing them off, erection bobbing free to slap against his taut lower belly. When he leaned back, the heat of his cock stretched toward his navel. He’d never been so stiff and long and aching in his life.

Jewel’s eyes widened and, blushing scarlet, she said with a hint of wonder, “I haven’t seen you this way before. When we, you know, I didn’t get a chance to really see. You’re…” she hesitated and licked her lips, pulling a groan from him. “You’re beautiful.”

“No one’s ever said that before,” he replied, garbled and throaty. He gripped his cock and shuddered when her gaze stayed there, drinking him in to the point where he might spend just from her perusal.

“Touch yourself, Jewel. I’m going to watch you get off with your own hand.”

***

A rush of heat and dizziness washed over Jewel. The thick and sensual words from Guy brought pleasure as well as so much nervousness. She wasn’t sure how she’d survive the night. “I…I don’t know how.”

“Run your fingers over yourself. Learn what you like. Tell me how it feels. Tell me.” His voice tickled along her skin and heated her more, like a blanket of heat covered her body.

“Like this?” Her fingers slipped along her flesh. Relief and pleasure tore at her.

“Just like that. Keep talking.”

“I’m wet.” Her fingers trembled across the point that ached the most. With increasingly confident and firmer strokes, she lost her inhibitions and let her hand imitate what she’d longed for Guy to do. In her mind, she pictured her hand as his hand. Her needs as his needs.

“That’s it.” His groaned response reminded her to speak, to describe to him her ecstasy.

“Right there. That’s…oh.” She whimpered, and the words caught in her throat.

“Rub it. Soft. Soft and slow. Easy, like that.” His voice broke, but she understood.

Something inside her splintered, never to be the same again.

“I want more.” She wanted more, but she couldn’t take more. It all rushed at her in a wave. Already she tensed and reached for bliss.

“Harder, sweetheart.”

“I’m almost there.” She gasped. Her core muscles tightened. She arched off the bed to strain, thighs trembling, toward the light building in her mind. She closed her eyes. The sight of Guy stroking himself, face contorted in passion, made it more difficult to breathe. Behind her lids, the image of him remained etched, scored into her mind.

A dark flutter brushed over the image. She edged back from the point of no return. A hint of violence and misery flickered through her closed memories. With a mental push, she backed away from whatever lurked there and opened her eyes again, to Guy and his needs.

Cheeks flushed, he jerked his arm in such a way she feared he might hurt himself, but he groaned, his gaze on her fingers rubbing her clit, bringing her close again. More than anything, she wanted to give him his desires. When his hips surged up from the chair, her inner muscles clamped, and she ground her behind against the bed for more pressure.