A wave of pleasure and power washed through Tessa. She loved how he responded to her, and thoroughly enjoyed the idea of using her sexuality against him. She blew again and then flicked her tongue out, catching the flared head of his penis with the tip.
Daaron shuddered. Tessa gripped his length firmly in her hand and rubbed up and down, feeling the ridges of the veins within, pulling the soft skin up along his length.
She shot a look up to his face to make sure his eyes were still closed before glancing at the floor. The fool had left his blaster sitting right there, next to his clothing. She gripped him harder and he moaned.
This time she didn’t have to force a smile, it came naturally.
Tessa leaned over again, took a deep breath and sucked his length into her mouth.
The taste of him, salty and warm, surprised her. She wiggled her tongue against him as her roommate had described doing. Apparently she did it right, because Daaron bucked against her and gave another of those deep moans of excitement. She pulled up. His hand reached down, gripping her hair and trying to push her head back down, but she grabbed it and pushed it away.
“No, this is my fantasy,” she said. “Stay still.”
He did as she asked.
Moving quickly, she leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed the blaster. As he started to sit up, she shoved the cold metal of the gun into his groin, right at the base of his cock.
“I said stay still.”
Daaron froze, eyes flying open. His face filled with rage, and she realized she could never, ever allow him to overpower her again. If she did, he might kill her.
“You said you had some friends outside,” she said slowly. “I’m taking you hostage.
We’re going to get my garnets and leave this damned planet, and your buddies better not try to stop us. Do I make myself clear?”
“You’re my wife, you have to obey me,” he said. “That’s the way it works in the Warrens.”
“How stupid do you think I am?” Tessa snapped back. “Women of the Warrens might have to obey their husbands, but only as long as they’re alive. Don’t push your luck.”
Chapter Four
Daaron took deep breaths, forcing down the anger thundering through him. The situation was his own damn fault. Losing control of your weapon was a fool’s mistake, and if one of his men had done it, he’d find himself cleaning latrines for a month. He’d forgotten just how intoxicating Tessa’s presence could be, and seriously underestimated the woman herself. Being near her all but wiped out his ability to think, and now they would both pay.
Tessa stepped away from him, holding the blaster steady, and awkwardly pulled up her pants with one hand.
“Get up,” she said. “We’re going to walk outside and you’re going to stand in front of me as a shield. I want you to tell your friends to leave us alone until we get to my cruiser. We’ll be taking the first available transport off-planet, and then I’ll make arrangements to sell my garnets and disappear. If you do everything I tell you, you’ll survive. Do you understand me?”
He nodded his head, not looking forward to the next ten minutes. His team didn’t respond well to threats.
“Pick up your clothes,” Tessa added.
“Should I put them on?”
She gave him a speculative look before offering him a rather dark smile.
“No,” she replied sweetly. “It will be harder for you to run if you’re naked. Now we’re going to leave. I’m going to stand right behind you as we go out. You’ll pause in the doorway and tell your people to let us by. Then we’ll grab the garnets and go.”
He nodded his head, knowing it wouldn’t get that far. Together they moved toward the opening and Daaron stepped out slowly. Tessa nudged him with the blaster, and he opened his mouth to speak. Before anything could come out, a hail of drugged flechettes rained through the air.
Daaron went down first, tranquilizers blazing through his system in a mere heartbeat. His last sensation as he fell was the punishing hit of a blaster bolt. She’d done it, he marveled. Soft, sweet Tessa had just shot him in the back. He heard her shriek and the world turned black.
*** Tessa awakened slowly, her mouth tasting metallic and bitter. She took a deep breath. The air smelled odd, recycled, like the air on a space station—or in the deepest reaches of the Warrens. Not the fresh, clean breezes of her camp, certainly. She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling, finding bare metal punctuated only by endless rows of rivets. The bed upon which she lay was soft but far from luxurious, although the fabric of the covers had the smooth, perfectly inviting feel that only natural fibers could create. Expensive, like everything else Daaron had ever owned.
Daaron.
Memory flooded back. Dear Goddess, she’d killed Daaron. Shot him point-blank with his own blaster. Tessa felt sick, completely disgusted with herself. She’d killed a man over a handful of stupid garnets.
Daaron had given his life for a pile of fucking rocks.
How could she live with herself? Of course, her continuing survival probably wouldn’t be a problem, not after his people got through with her. She’d enjoyed threatening Daaron, liked the idea of him feeling uncertain and scared, the way he’d always made her feel. But dead? No, never that. For long moments Tessa lay back on the bed, trying to think.
Finally she sat up listlessly, wondering when her executioners would arrive. Her cell was sparse. Bed, metal basin with water spouts and a fresher. Some drawers with a mirrored surface on the wall above them. A small table beside the bed. Everything one piece, everything bolted to the floor. She stood, trying to detect any signs of artificial gravity. If they were in space, it was on something big and powerful enough to have the best gravitrons money could buy.
Of course, money had never been an issue for Daaron.
The door pinged, and she watched it slide open without interest. Then Daaron walked in and she froze.
“You’re alive,” she said, stunned.
“Obviously,” he replied, his voice tight. “Good thing you didn’t check the blaster to see if the charge was lethal.”
It hadn’t even occurred to her.
“For the record, I’m sorry I shot you,” she said, meaning it. “I think I panicked. I didn’t want you dead… Just out of the way.”
“I find that tremendously comforting,” he replied, tone dark with sarcasm. “Getting shot with a blaster, even on the lowest setting, hurts like hell. And my men are pissed.
You’re lucky they didn’t kill you.”
“Why didn’t they?” she asked, trying to figure out her next move. She supposed that as long as they kept talking, she’d stay alive. Anything to buy time.
“Because I gave them strict orders not to,” he replied. “And they always obey. I’m not so sure I believe in the whole Warrens subservient wife thing though. Clearly it didn’t sink into your psyche growing up.”
She fell silent, unsure of her response. According to the traditions of the Warrens, they were married and she should obey him. She just didn’t want to though. And why should she? He sure as shit wasn’t from the Warrens, she couldn’t expect him to love and honor her in return for her obedience. No, he’d just use it against her.
“You said you had to marry me, to keep me from testifying,” she said after a long pause. “What did you mean by that? Honestly, I don’t know anything about you or your people. I just want to take my garnets and leave. Surely you can understand?”
“There are bigger things in play here than money,” he said. “I can give you money.
Your financial worries are over.”