Trapped: A SciFi Convict Romance (The Condemned Book 1) (10 page)

Chapter Ten

Bella stared at the dead man.

 
“You okay?” Convict
stepped over the body, his chest heaving. “Did he hurt you?”

At the reminder, she clutched her sore throat, her gaze
shifting between him and the dead guy.

Convict stepped in front, blocking her view, corralling her
backwards down the path away from the dead man. “Don’t waste a minute on 015.
He tortured and killed eleven women before being sent to Dragath25. Someone
should have killed him long ago.”

Another shudder swept through her.

“Bella?” He raised his hands. She blinked stupidly. He’d used
her name. Her real name. She wasn’t even sure he knew it.

“Yes?” Did he mean to hold her? God she hoped so; she could
really use his strength right now. But in the next moment, his hands dropped
back to his sides, curling into fists.

“You sure you’re okay?”

The gentleness in his voice had her blinking back tears. Or
maybe it was the disappointment that she was still standing on her own.

“I’m okay.” Her words were a whispered croak. Worse, the
strange lassitude that had seized hold of her moments ago was drifting away to
leave behind a pounding headache, twisting stomach, and shaking legs. Still, it
could have been far worse. “You got there in time. You saved me.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, her trembling growing
stronger with every second. “How about you? Are you okay?”

He looked down at his hands as if thinking about it for the
first time. Blood and scratches covered his knuckles. “I’m fine.” His gaze
found hers. There was challenge in his stare. “He deserved what he got.”

“And I couldn’t be more grateful you were there to dispense
justice.” If he thought she was going to be berate him for killing a monster
intent on torturing and killing her, he was wrong.

He nodded absently. Plowed a hand through his hair. Even from
an arm’s length away, she could feel his keyed up energy, the darkness still
roiling through him.

“Where did he come from?” It seemed the logical thing to ask,
and yet the words felt strange coming out of her mouth. Like she should be
screaming instead. Or falling apart.

“He was a tracker for 225. He and a few others must have been
following your soldiers’ tracks from the crash site.”

A fresh surge of panic whipped through her. “A few others?”

“They won’t be bothering you.”

It took her a second to understand. Convict had killed them,
too.

He could have easily walked away, but he hadn’t. Instead,
he’d gone on the hunt and taken them out before they could hurt anyone else.

Another wave of gratitude—and something more primitive—flowed
through her. He’d warned her there was no humanity and no selflessness on
Dragath25, but he’d lied. “Thank you.”

His expression turned wary. “Don’t think this is the end. 225
will send more men to investigate. Especially when these don’t return. He doesn’t
like any challenge to his authority.”

“We’ve got to warn the others.”

“Not tonight.”

“But—”

“Not tonight. It will take at least a couple of days for 225
and his pack to sense something is wrong. That gives us plenty of time to cover
our tracks and come up with a plan to convince them any survivors are now
dead.”

She almost wept; she was so relieved. The thought of
retracing their steps and handling another ugly confrontation with Pogue and
Dr. Winthrop was more than she could handle right then. And Convict’s plan was
a good one. “Do…do we need to bury the bodies?”

He shook his head. “Dragath25 will take care of that. By
morning, there’ll be no evidence left to find.”

Another shudder ran through her. Convict was right. This
planet really was a hellhole. She couldn’t believe he’d survived so long.

Finally, they reached the spot where he’d told her to wait.
His pack was still there.

“Stop a minute,” he said. “I want to check your injuries.”

“I’m fine.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Do it anyway.”

On a low sigh, she stood still, tilting her head up so he
could see her neck. She wasn’t even sure why she was resisting. Acknowledging
the bruises wouldn’t make it any more real. She already knew she’d almost been
raped. It was a solemn reminder of just how badly things could have gone for
her with Convict if he were a different man.

Callused fingers pressed gently against her neck, an almost
caress. “Fucking bastard.” Unlike his touch, Convict’s words were a sharp,
dangerous growl. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“Not so much anymore.” Actually, with him touching her, it
felt pretty damn good.

He bent down and reached into his pack. The loss of his
warmth sent a chill spiraling through her.

“Let me see those palms.” He’d tucked a dark grey bottle
under his arm.

She held out her hands without hesitation.

Now that he’d begun, she was ashamed to say she was enjoying
it. She couldn’t think of the last time someone had taken care of her like
this. As the eldest, it had always been up to her to do the care taking.

Convict leaned over to examine her hands, his breath a warm
caress against her neck. “There are some bad scratches.” His touch was light,
but firm as he rubbed a clear substance into her palms. It tingled, but didn’t
sting, and had the faint odor of flowers.

“What is that?” Her words were a bit slurred. Between the
draining of her adrenaline and the rhythmic steady touch of his warm hands, she
was being lulled into a very relaxed state.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t have a name. I discovered it by
accident. If you cut the leaves of a long spiky plant that grows in the Oasis,
this stuff oozes out. It’s great for healing cuts and preventing infections.”

“You really are amazing.”

His hand stilled. “I think you might be in shock.”

She stared in stunned silence. “Did you just make a joke?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” His lips tilted up in an almost
half-smile. “It’s been a while.”

She smiled back, an answering giddy grin in celebration of
survival. Of the fact that she and Convict were still alive. That they were
here with one another in spite of everything Dragath25 kept throwing at them.

The surge of relief lasted all of five seconds.

Her grin crumpled. A sob escaped. The roiling emotions inside
swinging back the other direction. She couldn’t stand it another minute. She
needed to feel his strength. Wipe away the horror of her attack. “Will you hold
me? Please.”

Without hesitation, his arms closed around her, the bottle
under his arm dropping to the ground.

“It’s okay, Bella.” He hauled her close, his chin resting on
the top of her head, her body cradled against his solid chest as she’d been
craving all along. “You’re safe.”

Full on crying now, she wrapped her arms around him, too,
curling into his strength, inhaling deeply. Letting the smell of him—of
security and power and warm male—seep into her bones and soothe. “These past
few days have been a lot to take in.” She felt the need to try and explain.

“I know.” The steady, soothing caress of his palm continued
up and down her back. “I’ve seen grown men cry like a baby upon arrival. You’re
tougher than any of them.”

She hid a shaky smile. Who knew her convict could be so
sweet?

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay where you said.” She whispered the
words to his chest. “I know how badly you must want to yell at me about that
and I appreciate you holding off.”

His hand stilled. “We’ll have to talk about it some time.”

“Just not right now.”

“Agreed.” His hands resumed their slow glide. And with every
gentle pass of his hand, a little bit more of herself returned. She’d had a
scare, yes. But she was fine. She was better than fine, in fact. She was alive.
Safe. In the arms of a man who’d stood up for her as no one had in a long time.
She’d forgotten what it was like to have someone in her corner.

Her uncertainty over staying with him slipped away. For the
time being, this was exactly where she wanted to be. She’d deal with the
consequences another day.

“Thank you for what you did today.” Done with clinging, she
brushed her lips against his chest, right across his heart.

He sucked in a breath.

She hid a watery smile. Such power to know she could have an
effect on such a strong, stoic man.

“You saved me.” She kissed his chest again. “You saved my
colleagues.” Another kiss.

“I didn’t do it for them.” His voice had dropped to that low
rumble she’d come to associate with unbelievable pleasure.

“It was still incredibly brave.” She traced her tongue over
one flat nipple reveling in the way it tightened in her mouth. “I know you said
not to call you a hero, but I can’t help it. That’s what you are to me.”

He drew back as far as his hold would allow, his eyes
haunted. “I’m no hero.”

She had no interest in arguing. Her hands slid down the hard
planes of his stomach to cup his thickening cock. “Whoever you are, whatever
you are, I’m glad you’re here with me.”

He let out a low groan, but he didn’t lean in to her touch.
“I’m…I’m still messed up inside.” His gaze shifted from hers. “On edge. We
should wait. I… I don’t think I can be gentle.”

That damn stinging returned to her eyes. “I don’t want
gentle.” Though the fact that he was willing to hold off for her touched her
all over again. “I want you. I want what you’ve given me these last few days.”
Confident once more, she pressed butterfly kisses along his collarbone and
throat while her hand stroked his hardening length. “I want you to take me like
you did that first time. And then the next. And the next. I want to scream and
writhe and beg.”

She paused, awareness dawning. “It wasn’t until I crashed on
this planet and met you that I learned what pleasure was.”
What it was like to be touched as if I mattered
. “Between
scratching and clawing to feed my family, I’d forgotten such things were even
allowed.” She ran her tongue along the firm line of his jaw. “You reminded me
of that, Convict. I don’t want to forget. Especially now.” She didn’t want to
be afraid to feel. Especially not for such an incredible man.

His nostrils flared. “Call me
Caine
.”

“
Caine
?” The word tasted strange on
her tongue. “Is that your name?”

“It was.”

Several heartbeats passed in silence while she found her
voice.

“It suits,” she got out at last, feeling she’d won the
greatest of prizes. “Touch me,
Caine
.”

At the sound of his name, he froze. Then, with a ravenous
growl, his mouth was skimming over her throat, making her moan, while his hands
roamed everywhere. Marking her. Claiming her. Pleasuring her.

He’d said he couldn’t be gentle, but his touch was whisper
soft. Making her feel clean once again. Safe. Cherished. Closer to another human
being than she’d ever felt in her life. Proving once again there was beauty to
be found at the unlikeliest of times, in the unlikeliest of places, with the
unlikeliest of men.

*****

Caine’s
heart gave a little thump.
It felt weird to hear her call him by his real name. But he couldn’t deny he
liked it. A lot more than he’d thought he would.

He wasn’t even sure why he’d told her. Except he suddenly
couldn’t stand her calling him Convict. Not when it put him in the same
category as the animal who’d hurt her.

A fast death had been too good for the bastard. But he hadn’t
wanted to upset his fighter girl any more than she already was.

Last time he’d killed, it had been methodical and deliberate
and driven by the grim determination that it needed to be done, that an
obligation was owed. Not this time. There’d been no careful logic, no sense of
a debt due. No, this time the urge to kill had been far more primal. More
instinctive. A predator protecting what was his.

Somehow, in the space of a few days, his fighter girl had
moved from being a convenience to something far more.

Which wasn’t smart. Wanting someone was one thing. But needing
someone was altogether different.

He’d learned long ago to avoid the latter.

“Come inside me.” Her voice was low and hoarse, her hand
guiding his to her wet center. Refusing his retreat. Making it impossible for
him to keep his distance. “I don’t want to wait anymore. It won’t be enough
until I feel you deep inside.”

On a groan, he let her set the pace. Let her fumble with his
covering and pull out his cock. Let her rub herself against his tip while she
moaned, her throat tipping back.

It only made him harder.

She was amazing. Allowing nothing to keep her down, mar her
spirit. She always found a way to fight back. Truth be told, she humbled him.

 
“
Caine
.”
Her breathy use of his name made him groan out loud. He fucking loved hearing
it on her lips. “Come in me. Now.”

Grabbing her ass, he lifted her and thrust inside her warm
heat. And found calm for the first time since he’d seen her being attacked. She
was with him. She was safe.

But he couldn’t screw up again. He had to double his
vigilance. Make sure he didn’t repeat the mistakes of his past.

Stilling inside her, he gripped her chin. “Starting tomorrow,
you learn defensive moves that can help you get away from an attacker.”

“Okay.” Her eyes were already half-lidded, her pupils wide.
He wasn’t even sure she’d fully heard him.

“You’ll learn to read the signs for approaching bad weather
and the best places to look for shelter.”

“
Mmmm
.” She clenched her inner
muscles in a clear sign of impatience. “Talk…later.”

He stifled a groan. Forced himself to remain focused. “You’ll
learn the predators here and how to avoid them or you won’t go outside.”