Page 12 of Trak
Now, he had the one female he wanted to get naked and randy with in his chambers. She had been nearly silent the whole walk back to his rooms. Nandi was nowhere to be found, thank the stars. The last time he’d seen her, she had given him an earful about his poor handling of this situation.
Lights were dim in his rooms, but he could see the changes. Anna came inside, hugging herself. “You weren’t here and you were sending all this stuff, so…I, um…”
“Made yourself at home,” he finished. Trak looked around his bedchamber. In the span of seven Earth days, it had become very muchherbedchamber. There were clothes and shoes and pillows in places that had never had those things before. One of the unused rooms off of his room, which he was considering setting up for her to stay in whenthey weren’t in bed together, was filled with the things he’d sent her. It was tidy enough. She wasn’t a slob.Hewas the slob. If not for Nandi sweeping through and cleaning up after him, the room would be unlivable. “Where are the jewels? You seemed quite keen on them.”
“Oh.” Her eyes went shifty. “I hid them.”
“Youwhat?”
“They’re hidden. In case someone tried to steal them.”
He blinked. “Why would anyone do that?”
“Are you serious?” She looked incredulous as she fingered the medallion on the chain she still wore. It pleased him to see the mark of his family etched in the silver around the setting. “Those are huge, flawless diamonds and the workmanship of the metalwork is incredible. Someone could try to break in and steal them.”
“Love, not far from here is a planet containing millions of pounds of diamonds. Literally loaded with them,” he explained. “I’m glad you like them, but they aren’t quite as valuable out here as they are on Earth.” He kept mum about the fact that there was no “workmanship” involved either. The fabricator of the pieces was the same machine that made specialty parts needed to repair his ships.
She gave him a skeptical look. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Utterly. Even if someone wanted to steal something like that, they would never get into the Virilian sector, let alone through this door, which is made of an alloy so hard, it would take a full cycle to penetrate with the most powerful tools available. So feel free to take your jewelry out of your hiding places.” She seemed quite concerned about theft. Perhaps she’d been robbed in the past. “Are you aware that the necklace you wear is set with a diamond?”
She picked up the medallion, tilted it to the light and brought it close to her eye. “How did I miss that? It’s not cut. It’s polished smooth as a river rock. Amazing.” She looked up. “I thought it was quartz or something.”
He shrugged, giving up trying to figure her out for the moment. “My point is, don’t worry about the jewelry. Or anything else. It’s safe enough here to not have to hide it.”
The truth was, the Bott-L2 space station wasnota safe place. It was policed by its own shady inhabitants who dealt their own forms of justice, which were rarely civil. The Virilians were no better than most of the other species that claimed sectors of the station. This was a place of trade where much of what was traded was banned in more civilizedsectors. Virilians may not trade in life-forms, but most everything else was fair game.
Trak watched Anna retrieve wrapped-up bundles of jewelry from under the bed, behind a trunk in the empty room, and inside a compartment in the dining room. She’d even secured a bundle underneath a tabletop using adhesive she’d gotten somewhere. How odd. He observed her tense face, sharp and watchful, and wondered about the woman who would do such a thing. What drove her to hide the jewelry so creatively? “Are you accustomed to being robbed on Earth?” he asked her.
Her head whipped to face him. A carefully blank expression masked her face. “No.”
There was stark complication in her quick reply. “Really? Then why do this?” He chuckled as a sudden thought came to mind. “Unless you were the thief.”
“I was a lot of things.” Her arms tightened around the bundles in her arms.
He gestured to the jewelry, wrapped in towels or articles of clothing she presumably didn’t like, clutched in her arms. A few things were beginning to make sense. “I don’t care what you did on Earth, love. I’m no saint, myself.”
She paused and bit her bottom lip. “I’m… I guess we all live what we learn,” she said. “And I’m trying to live differently.” She carried her haul into the room she’d claimed for her things and placed them in a trunk, then locked the trunk. Trak watched her, marveling that those were the first true, personal things she’d said to him. He wondered if she realized how much she had just revealed of herself in those two sentences.
Trak stood still as she approached him. She stopped right in front of him, hands on hips, appearing somewhat combatant. “Well?” she said. “Let’s get to it.”
“To what, love?” he asked with a grin.
“It,” she snapped. “Sex. Or whatever you wish to call it.”
“Not very romantic, are you?” He crossed his arms. “D’you think just saying the word ‘sex’ makes a man automatically rise to the occasion?”
“Doesn’t it?” she asked, blinking her eyes wide.
“Well, sometimes, maybe,” he conceded, “but I promised you pleasure and you are standing there looking ready to do battle.” He strolled past her, brushing his arm against her as he passed. “Entirely the wrong attitude, m’dear.”
She stood there, remaining still and silent. Waiting.
Trak circled behind her proud, straight back. The clingy dress had a slit down the spine, held together at her neck, so the opening only offered a peek when she moved incertain ways. He could see that long slice of skin and the intriguing ink that swirled on it. He’d seen her tattoos when she’d arrived, of course, but the images hadn’t registered. Now he was curious how much of her history was inked on her skin. His chosen match had more secrets, it seemed, than he could have imagined. He wanted to learn them. He wanted to learnher.
With fingers that had dealt death in battle, weapons in trade, and pleasure to plenty of lovers before, he touched the base of her spine and traced a slow line upwards. His touch was light and soft. What he was really doing was testing her temperature. Testing them both.
Then he felt it—the moment her muscles unwound, the telltale shiver that vibrated under her skin, the shallowing of her breaths. His own muscles contracted in reaction as a smile pulled at his lips. This female was opening to him. Her body was responding, revealing her growing arousal. He already knew she wanted him. That kiss had told him everything, but seduction was not something to be rushed. When he entered Anna, he wanted her writhing and moaning. He wanted her begging him to take her.
