Page 106 of Too Many Beds

“Come for me, Eden,” Heron growls. “Let it all out.”

His hand, which had been guiding my hips through each of his long thrusts, curls around my dick. A thumb rolling over the leaking head is all it takes to have me squirting up the shower wall. Heron holds me so I don’t collapse, his thrusts becoming erratic as his own orgasm builds. Both of his arms are curled around my belly, holding me off the ground as I ride his cock to oblivion. Now free, my hands clutch desperately at his as I pull him deeper, moaning as he jerks inside me. I clench down and he empties his balls with a primal groan that sends goosepimples shivering across my skin.

Heron lowers us both to the floor, panting wildly. He reaches up to cut off the shower, the steamy water now feeling cool against the heat from our bodies. I lay sprawled across his thighs, head resting back against his shoulder as I chase my own breath. His pulse pounds so violently I canfeelit in my ears through the muscles of his neck.

“Are you cold?” he asks, squeezing his arms tight around me.

“No,” I say sleepily, then turn my head towards the sodden pile of clothes. “I’m not looking forward to putting that back on, though.”

Heron chuckles and presses a kiss to my temple. “Come on. I’ll find you something dry to wear.”

My hair’s still damp when I trudge back to D Block, wrapped in Heron Kim’s spare jumpsuit. It’s far too big for me and with its rolled sleeves and ankles, it’s obvious I’m not wearing my own clothes. I don’t regret what I did—far from it—but my brain is so busy concocting lies and excuses to tell Tarrant that I walk straight into a guard leaving our common room.

It’s Fargus, listening to the crackling comm coming through her device.

“Hurry up, O’Connor,” she barks over her shoulder, deaf to my apologies. “Transport won’t wait for you.”

She steps around me to continue her call out in the corridor. As soon as I turn the door to my cell, Tarrant grabs my wrist and slams me into the wall. I expect to feel his lips on me; instead a fist crashes into the steel next to my ear and I shudder.

“Where the fuck is it, Eden?” he growls, grabbing my jaw.

“Wha—” His grip is so tight I can barely speak.

“Thephets, Eden. You were supposed to bring them straight back to Kon and you didn’t. Where are they?”

“I dropped them,” I snap. “Guess I was surprised to find you working for the Authority. What the fuck, Tarrant?”

“I’m not working for the Authority, you pathetic little shit. They work for me. I fucking own this place, remember?”

“Do you? Looks to me like they ownyou.”

Tarrant spears a knee into my gut, knocking the wind from my lungs. I stay upright thanks to his hold on my jaw, but I really want to curl up in a ball against the pain and fear. Tarrant’s eyes are menacing as he leans in close. Again, I think he might kiss me; he doesn’t.

“Count yourself lucky I’m getting out today,” he snarls. “Because if I’d bothered to cut a deal for you too, you’d be dead in a ditch the moment we hit the slums.”

The threat dampens any betrayal I might have felt at Tarrant reneging on his promise to get me out. Relief floods through me instead—until he jerks my head towards Kon. “Though, I don’t think you’ll fare much better in here, either.”

Kon cracks his knuckles and I thrash against Tarrant’s grip.

“O’Connor,” Fargus says from the doorway, accompanied by a male guard. “Time’s up. Get going.”

Tarrant releases me with an affable smile at Fargus and bends to pick up his basket of belongings. “Been a pleasure, Fargus,” he says. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“Wouldn’t count on it, O’Connor,” she mutters.

He claps Kon on the shoulder as he passes, then leaves with the male guard without so much as a second glance in my direction. I’m glad for that. If he looked at me one more time with those dark eyes, I’m sure I’d puke. But instead, it’s Kon glaring at me with the same threatening intensity, and I can’t bear the thought of what will happen once Fargus leaves us alone.

I open my mouth to blurt out some pathetic excuse for me to be anywhere else but Fargus beats me to it.

“Meyer,” she says, turning to Kon. “Stretch break is over. Back to your work order.”

“Yes ma’am,” he grumbles reluctantly, not breaking our eye contact until he’s completely out of sight.

I release the breath I’d been holding, and a shudder racks my body. I’m due at the same work order. Any second now, Fargus will be telling me to move my arse and, come this afternoon, I’ll be threaded through the gears just like Kon’s leg. Maybe they’ll just kill me.

Maybe that would be best.

“Pack your things, Walsh,” Fargus commands. She types distractedly into her holoscreen projection.

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