Rebel (30 page)

She dispelled that fear with a vigorous shake of her head. “No. Don’t stop. That feels…” Her voice trailed off as she fisted her hands in his hair. “…incredible.”

His cock slipped from her sheath as her scent drew him downward, seeking its source and the flavor that was inherently her own. As he flicked her clitoris with his tongue, she arched up from the grassy bed, giving him greater access to her intoxicating essence.

“And you
taste
incredible.”

“Mmm…so do you.” She gave his hair a tug. “Think you could turn around?”

Onca wasn’t sure he could budge from the spot, but she was his mate. Refusing her was impossible. Growling, he rose up on his hands and knees and crawled over her. With the first touch of her lips on his cock, his head snapped back, sending his hair flying as his breath hissed in through his teeth.

Kim closed her mouth over his cockhead, sucking gently at first, then harder, raking the shaft with her fangs. Gliding her tongue along the coronal flange, she traced each serration, driving him to the edge of madness. A gentle bite to the head sent more of his coronal fluid gushing into her mouth, and she snarled as the orgasmic juice worked its magic, her hips curling up until her knees hit his shoulders. Mouth open wide, he went down on her pussy, devouring her like the delectable treat she was.

Unable to decide which was better—her mouth on him or his lips on her—he suckled her clit, doing his best to get her to explode before he lost his mind. She crossed her legs behind his neck, forcing his head down and his hips up. A puff of her breath on his scrotum stopped his protest before it began, her purr the only warning as she sucked a testicle into her mouth.

Onca stifled his ecstatic cry, not wishing to awaken any of those who lay sleeping far beneath them. Her hands were everywhere at once—stroking his cock, caressing his skin, dragging her nails over his bottom. Releasing her hold on his upper body, she let her legs slip past his ears as he rose upright on his knees. Wiggling his hips, he set his genitals swaying, brushing her face with his nuts, doing his best to entice her to—

“Bite me.”

His balls twitched in anticipation as the night winds rustled the leaves surrounding the platform and wafted over his wet cock. With a snarl, she sank her fangs into the thick muscle just above his thigh, igniting yet another inferno of desire. His chin snapped upward, his hair tickling his buttocks and possibly her face.

Her
face…

Reversing his position, he gazed into her fiery eyes as he lowered the tip of his cock to her lips. Her breath on his moist skin made him shiver, and the swipe of her tongue made him groan. Falling forward onto his hands, he fucked her mouth until he came, filling her with his cream. She swallowed—nearly taking his dick down her throat—then pushed him back and licked the remaining
snard
from his cockhead.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

“Good. Lie down on your back. I want to ride that rascal.”

Onca sprawled beside her, waiting for her to mount him. Her lips curved into a smile as she straddled his hips, gazing down at him through pupils as round and glowing as hot embers.

“Mother of the gods,” he whispered. “You’re beautiful.”

She shook her head. “No. You’re the beautiful one—lying there with your hair all fanned out like that.” She ran a hand through her own curls. “Should I let mine get that long?”

“If you like. Either way, you’ll still be beautiful.”

With a wink, she settled herself down on his cock. “Bet I look even better now.”

“Not possible.”

She began a steady, undulating movement of her hips. “How about now?”

“Nope. Still the same.”

The tension began building within him again, faster and more powerfully than he had ever imagined. The swiftness of it stole his breath, making his head spin.

“Now?”

He gritted his teeth. “Not yet.”

Time stood still as her body squeezed his with an orgasm that seemed to go on forever, her sighs filling him with elation and wonder. His own pinnacle was already in sight, and he gazed up at her, fighting to maintain his vision, his sanity.

When the moment of ecstasy came at last, his soul seemed to expand to encompass the entire universe—a universe of which she was the center.

“Now?”

He nodded. “Now.”

Anara’s advice was simple. “Keep it public.”

Onca hoped she meant talking to reporters rather than walking out of the Palace naked. That sort of exposure had ceased to be good for business several days ago. “How so?”

“Don’t turn yourself in at the police station,” she replied. “Tell them you’ll meet them in front of the Palace later this afternoon. We’ll be ready for them.”

Anara Threlkind had arrived without fanfare, flanked by her two husbands, Lor and San. Tall, dark, and strikingly handsome, the men could have passed for identical twins, but were, in fact, clones of the same man, each possessing the same curly hair, green eyes, hawk-like noses, and cleft chins of the original. Anara appeared to be several years older than her spouses, though with her lush figure and thick brown hair, she was still quite beautiful.

“I think I can guarantee a big crowd,” Roncas said. “I have an idea.”

Noting the significant lift of the Zuteran’s brow, Onca was almost afraid to ask. “What
kind
of idea?”

“I’d rather not say just yet,” she replied. “I think the element of surprise will make it more effective.”

Onca stared at her. “I don’t know you at all, do I?”

“Better than you realize,” Roncas said. “I’m a devious little bird.”

“I knew
that
, but—”

“It doesn’t matter how you get a crowd—or even the nature of it,” Anara said. “All that matters is that there are enough to make a scene.”

Roncas twittered. “I can promise you that.”

“I’ll need access to your information, Onca,” Anara went on. “Immigration records, deeds, bank statements.” She glanced at Kim. “And you, as well—full name, birth date, that sort of thing. Were you born on Rhylos?”

“Why does any of that matter?” Onca demanded as Kim nodded her reply.

Anara appeared to take no notice of his question. “Good. We should be able to find the records then—and I’ll need you to sign a few things.”

Onca was still in the dark, but Anara didn’t seem inclined to enlighten him beyond commenting that she believed in being prepared for any eventuality.

“Yeah, right. Sounds like you’re just making it easier for them to deport us.”

Anara winked, favoring him with a slow, secretive smile. “Perhaps.” Her attention returned to Kim. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

“Mother of the gods!” Onca exclaimed. “How the hell could you possibly know that?”

“I didn’t,” Anara replied. “But you just confirmed it.”

Onca gaped at her in dismay before rounding on Val. “And she’s actually going to
help
us?”

Val didn’t reply, merely regarding him with an arched brow and a flap of his wings.

“Don’t just stand there ruffling your feathers at me,” Onca growled. “I want—”

“Might be best to go with the flow, dude,” Rashe advised. “Something tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing. And, um, congratulations.”

“Thanks. Kim says there are two boys and a girl. Not sure how she knows that, but—oh, what the hell.” Onca turned away, grumbling. “When you’re ready to fill me in on the particulars, I’ll be in my office.” He stormed off, doing his best to ignore Roncas’s twittering laughter.

He liked the idea that Anara believed in being prepared for anything; he only wished she was a little less cryptic. Originally a divorce lawyer excelling in getting the most for her clients, she had also been instrumental in establishing clone rights. She seemed savvy enough. She had already tricked him into admitting that Kim was expecting—a circumstance he’d thought it best to keep mum about until the legal crap was settled.

Kim didn’t even follow him into the office. A glance at the window showed her still talking to Anara. Heaving a weary sigh, he sat down at the desk and began searching through his files. He found a copy of the deed to the Palace in a drawer, but the other documents Anara had requested were online—easily accessible with his identification chip. What was sad was that there were so few records to access. His life hadn’t truly begun until Rutger Grekkor’s death made it safe for the refugee ship to land. Before that, there was no proof of his existence anywhere. The officials on Terra Minor had assigned him a date of birth during the immigration process. His place of birth was simply listed as Zetith—the city and region unknown.

He still wasn’t sure why Anara needed similar information from Kim—although he couldn’t argue that it was best for her to know everything about him and everyone involved. Surprises of that sort in a courtroom could be costly.

Too bad this wasn’t Zetith. Kim would already be considered his mate there. Here on Rhylos, she was only his girlfriend. Then again, maybe no one would care that he’d only known her three days before impregnating her.

Yeah, right.

He couldn’t see that chain of events impressing anyone—except maybe Jack. If she hadn’t intended to marry Kim off to one of her sons, she would have been tickled to death.

Funny
how
things
turn
out.

Anara might be able to put a “love at first sight” spin on his relationship with Kim, but he could also see the Herp’s lawyer having a field day with it. He doubted the story would arouse much sympathy from a judge—especially if the bad guys had any influence within the judicial system. Given all that had happened thus far, he suspected they did.

The Herp’s assault charge didn’t worry him overmuch—how long a sentence could a person possibly get for beating up a Herp, anyway? On the other hand, inciting a riot might earn him some serious jail time. Deportation would be welcome, except that he would be kicked off the planet without a single credit to his name.

Unfortunately, none of those options would help them find Dalmet. Kim would never forgive him if he failed to exhaust every possibility to find her friend, nor would he forgive himself. Unsolved kidnappings caused sleepless nights for a lot of people. He was no different.

He scanned the deed and put it in a file along with the rest of his credentials and sent it to Anara’s inbox.

Then he called the police.

***

Kim eyed Roncas with skepticism. “Are you sure this will work? I mean, I know it’ll draw a crowd, but I doubt it’s the right kind.”

“Anara said it didn’t matter,” the Zuteran replied. “And I’m taking her at her word. All we have to do is publicize it a bit.” She paused, frowning. “Think you could get some pictures for me? For the ad, I mean.”

If she was referring to the kind of pictures Kim guessed they were, Roncas had better
not
want them for herself. “Okay. But you’ll have to give me a camera. Unlike everyone else on this planet, street people don’t have that sort of thing on them at all times.”

“No problem. Oh, and a headshot will do. I hate to admit it—and I’ve done my best to keep him from getting too cocky—but he
is
rather attractive.”

“
Now
she tells me,” Kim muttered. “Thanks for keeping him humble—although I’m not sure your efforts were necessary. The best I can tell, he has more reasons to be insecure than cocky.”

“You weren’t around when he was working. The way his clients used to look at him, trust me, he was in danger of becoming
lethally
cocky.”

Kim could understand the looks he would’ve gotten, but cocky? Probably not. “Whatever. Just find me a camera and let’s get on with it.”

***

Onca sat in his office trying to decide whether to risk getting anywhere near Kim again. His dick still ached from when she had popped in to take a few pictures—presumably to remember him by while he was locked up in the slammer. Or maybe she wanted them so their children would know what their father looked like. Either way, he was beginning to suspect a dismal future.

Roncas stuck her head in the door. “Hey, Boss, could you come here for a minute?”

Something in her tone made him fear the worst. Undoubtedly the police were already there, itching to clap him in irons and throw him in the dungeon or to the wolves or whatever it was they did to people who incited riots. “What’s up?”

She motioned for him to accompany her. “Come on. You need to see this.”

With a great deal of trepidation, he followed her to the main entrance. Pushing the door open, Roncas took his hand and led him outside.

A sea of females of every species imaginable erupted into a cheer as he crossed the threshold onto the landing at the head of the broad steps that led down to the street. Several of the ladies waved signs with his picture on them. Two women held a banner that read,
We
love
you, Onca!

“Holy shit, Roncas! What the hell did you put in those ads?”

Roncas shrugged. “You said to drum up support. So I’m running a contest.”

His eyes widened as he spotted Ganyn passing out tickets. “
Please
tell me the tickets are free.”

Roncas nodded. “All they had to do was show up and get a ticket for the chance to win a free fuck.” She glanced at her watch. “Almost time for the drawing.”

Onca groaned. “But I’m
retired
.” Not to mention being mated to Kim. He wouldn’t have been able to get it up for any of them—whether he wanted to or not. And he certainly didn’t want to.

She nodded at the crowd. “Yes, but
they
don’t know that.”

Roncas waved her hands for silence, then held up a glass bowl filled with ticket stubs. “My young friend here will now draw the winning number.”

An expectant hush fell over the crowd as Han came forward and stuck his hand into the bowl. Drawing out a ticket, he held it up. “Twenty-one eighty-seven!”

A squeal came from the center of the crowd. “I won!”

Before Onca had the chance to spot the winner, several police officers shouldered their way through the crowd. Coming to a halt at the foot of the steps, their leader pointed his weapon at Onca.

“So, the Zetithian man-whore hides behind children now?” he sneered. “That’s even worse than hiding behind the skirts of women.”

Onca knew the bastard was only taunting him into doing something rash—a ploy that might have worked if Val hadn’t swooped down from the sky to land lightly at his side.

“And you, who stood by while innocent young women were raped and enslaved, have no claim to integrity,” Val said. “We will not allow you to take him.”

Onca had to admit, with his icy eyes and outstretched wings, Val was almost as intimidating as a pissed-off Darconian. The pistol in his hand was incidental.

Moments later, Jatki and Shemlak closed in behind the police along with about twenty more children and several other adults he didn’t recognize—although judging from their rapt attention and recording devices, he assumed they were the reporters.

A smile touched Onca’s lips as he locked eyes with Shemlak, who winked.

Anara came out to stand beside him, flanked, as always, by Lor and San. “You cannot take him without legal counsel. I shall accompany him.”

“But what about my free fuck?” a familiar voice called out.

Following the sound, Onca spotted Kim in the crowd, grinning up at him.

“You’ll have to wait until he gets out of jail,” the policeman shouted back. “And you might be waiting a very long time.”

A tall woman with short dark hair stood next to Kim. “Yeah, well, we’ll see about that, bucko. You’d better take damn good care of him. He’s one of the few Zetithians left in the galaxy—and you know what happens to people who harm members of an endangered species. The ZPA comes after them with a vengeance.”

“ZPA?” the cop retorted. “Never heard of it.”

“The Zetithian Protection Agency.” Jack Tshevnoe patted the butt of her pistol. “That’s me.”

Onca rolled his eyes. “Take it easy, Jack. I’m not dead yet.”

“And it’s my job to see that you stay that way.” Raising her voice, Jack addressed the crowd. “Ladies, I believe our friend Onca needs an escort to the police station. Shall we proceed?”