Tyr stirred as his consciousness returned. Where was he? The last he remembered was going down, fighting an overwhelming number of the Drago-Kazov. He breathed in deeply. Nothing smelled familiar. The unpleasant astringent scent made his nose wrinkle in distaste.
There was someone near him. Tyr could hear the soft sound of breathing. The scent was unfamiliar. He was lying on a thin mattress with nothing between him and it. Cool air flowed over him unimpeded by coverings. The roughness of rope chafed against his chest with every breath. His arms stretched uncomfortably overhead. He moved one hand slowly discovering more rope around his wrists. He twitched his foot. Rope there as well.
“So, you are awake.” The strange voice was a soft, confiding tenor.
Tyr opened his eyes and turned his head against the thin mattress to glower venomously. The situation was not good but he had been in worse and survived. He would survive this as well. He was Tyr Anasazi out of Victoria by Barbarossa…he would always survive.
A stocky Nietzschean in dull brown leathers, stood next to the bed. Sandy hair cut short framed a long, narrow face. Cool green eyes inspected Tyr with clinical interest. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you; Tyr Anasazi…Kodiak Pride isn’t it? Pity about that whole massacre thing. Your family destroyed, your pride obliterated…but you’ve done well in spite of that unfortunate…incident. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“And you are?” Tyr’s voice was curt. He flexed his ankles against the rope. Hmmm. It was tight but there was just barely enough slack that he might be able to work his feet free if he could not snap it.
“Oh, where are my manners? This is no way to begin. We’re going to have a most intimate relationship so you should know my name. I’m Mercury Xerxes out of Helena by Hannibal…of the Drago-Kazov.” Mercury purred with a slight bow. He reached out and patted Tyr’s cheek. “You may call me, Mercury.”
Tyr snapped viciously at the intruding hand. The beta’s reflexes were quick. Mercury snatched his hand back, laughing.
“I can see you are going to provide hours of fun. Usually the people that the alphas bring here bore me so quickly. No appreciation of all my hard work…my artistry. Not even a flare for the theatrical. So blasé. All that begging and pleading and promising.” He turned a critical eye on Tyr. “But we’ll have none of that begging from you, will we? You will prove to be…interesting.”
“Where am I?” Tyr demanded. He tried to shift his position on the mattress. There was no give in the rope binding his torso to the bed. He lifted his head. He could see his clothes piled carelessly into the far corner of the room. There were plenty of objects in the room that would serve him as weapons once he was free.
“Well, I don’t see any harm in telling you that.” Mercury smiled. “You are on my little ship, the Mercy. The alphas ordered you brought to me because of my particular…talent. When I get some answers, I’ll signal my Pride. For now, it’s just you and me. Of course, later, there won’t be much of you left so then it will be just me again.”
“I’ve been tortured before, beta.” Tyr twisted suddenly against the ropes but they held. “And by far better than the likes of you.”
“Now there’s no need to be rude!” Mercury pouted. He trailed a taunting hand over the vulnerable expanse of Tyr’s midsection. “We’ve only just met. You have no idea how…good I am.”
“Get your hands off me!” Tyr’s low growl rumbled with the promise of menace.
“Such excellent muscle tone.” Mercury slid a clinical hand over Tyr’s abdomen, prodding the muscles. “You must exercise constantly to keep yourself in this shape. I’m sure all of this isn’t just Kodiak DNA at work.”
“I told you to keep your hands off me!” Every muscle in Tyr’s body was quivering with barely contained fury. Rage seethed in his amber eyes.
“Some people are so sensitive about touches in this particular area.” Mercury continued conversationally, mockery in his eyes as his hand settled tauntingly over his captive’s groin. He leaned close, holding Tyr’s gaze. “Men particularly, isn’t that fascinating?”
Tyr lunged violently against the ropes and succeeded in slamming his head into Mercury’s face. He watched with satisfaction as the other man staggered back with a pained cry.
Mercury stalked over to a stand and yanked a cloth off the top, revealing a selection of knives. He pressed the cloth against his nose, looking reproachfully at Tyr. “You broke my nose!”
Tyr settled back against the bed with a sneer. He could smell the pleasing scent of his enemy’s blood and pain. That was only the first down payment on what Mercury owed him for the imprudence of touching him so intimately.
Mercury tossed the cloth in a disposal unit. His fingers moved delicately over the newly crooked angle of his nose. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully on Tyr. He picked up a small knife and studied the dance of light across the blade. “Let’s get started, shall we? I hear that you know a most interesting secret. I don’t suppose that you would care to do this the easy way and just tell me now where Drago Museveni’s remains are?”
Tyr glared silently. Give up his Pride’s rightful trust? Never. He tugged at the rope circling his wrists. He had won a little more slack. His fingers could just touch the knot.
“No? How delightful.” Mercury grinned. “I do so enjoy the beginning of a relationship.”
Alarms sounded. “Intruder alert! Intruder alert!” announced the mechanical voice of the ship’s computer.
“What now?” Mercury sighed in exasperation and dropped the knife back on the stand. He walked back to Tyr and consulted the computer console set into the wall near the bed. “Well, well, well. It looks like someone wants you back.”
Mercury turned to study Tyr’s face. He smirked. “Is that a flicker of hope in your eyes? Don’t worry, they won’t succeed.”
Tyr jerked his head back and growled as Mercury patted him on the head.
“Ooooh, touchy are we? I can’t wait to get back to you but, first, I have to take care of your little friend.” Mercury tapped out a series of commands. “I recently acquired this lovely new gas that I’ve been dying to try out. You wouldn’t know the name of it so I won’t bother telling you. The old Perseid who created it for me provided hours of entertainment before I broke him.” Mercury pursed his lips petulantly. “Such a shame too. I really enjoyed him.”
“I don’t care about your perversions!” Tyr strained against the ropes abrading the skin over his chest with his efforts.
“Oh, come now, did no one in Pride Kodiak teach you manners?” Mercury cooed. “You should enjoy this. The reported effects of the gas are delicious. It impairs judgment while lowering inhibitions. The Perseid….now what was his name? Ah well, can’t remember them all can I? Anyway, he told me one could make people do the most entertaining things to themselves after they’ve inhaled enough of it. I’ll just flood the rest of the ship with it and find your friend giggling in a corner somewhere.”
“Now, don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” Mercury turns to go then stops and looks back at Tyr. “I don’t normally tell subjects this because I don’t want to affect their performance but I have several cameras strategically placed about the room. There’s one placed just there, do you see?” Mercury pointed to a point near the ceiling above the foot of the bed.
“I don’t care.” Tyr snapped but noted the location of the camera and adjusted his efforts to free his hands accordingly. No need giving away that he had a little slack in the ropes and would likely be free well before Mercury’s return. Mercury still owed him and the payment would commence on Mercury’s return.
“You should. Our little time together will be recorded for posterity. I’ve been thinking of presenting a paper on interrogation techniques at the next Pan-Galactic Conference on Medicine. I’m sure I’ll be well received. However there is an additional benefit of my surveillance…if you try to escape, I’ll know about it and I may just have to punish you for misbehaving.” Mercury gingerly adjusted a gas mask over his face and pulled his pistol from his holster as he headed out the door.
Tyr strained against the ropes as the door shut behind Mercury. His muscles knotted and swelled against the rope but it did not snap. The rope must have been reinforced. It was too much to hope a man with Mercury’s experience would make such an elementary error in his choice of tools, even if the man was a Drago-Kazov.
Tyr twisted his wrists again. The rope yielded slightly. Not much but enough. A few more tugs and his hands would be free. Just as he applied more pressure the door opened. Tyr lifted his head, looking toward the door. His muscles tensed, preparing for a sudden, violent tug. He relaxed back onto the mattress when he saw Harper standing in the doorway with a gauss pistol. The human seemed frozen in place, staring. “Harper? Harper! Don’t just stand there like a half-wit, boy. Free me!”
Harper took a step closer and stopped, swaying. His gaze moved slowly over Tyr’s bare form, lingering on the long lines of muscles, the smooth, flawless skin and the rough restraint of the ropes. The blue stare smoldered and caught fire as Harper focused on the long, thick cock and the heavy sway of the sac below.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Cut the ropes!” Tyr snapped impatiently. What was the human staring at? It was not as if Harper had not seen it all before. Seen and rejected.
He would never be able to forget that night on Pierpoint Drift. He had pulled the protesting engineer out of a bar. He had stood in the alley, supporting the dizzy human as the sensual music spilled around them. The cool, strength of Harper’s hands had fluttered over his chest and waist. He had thought that Harper was seeking support and had shifted his grip only to find the engineer sliding down. The agile fingers had opened the front of his leather pants before he had realized Harper’s intentions. Then, ah, the unexpected, exquisite bliss of Harper’s clever mouth and hands on him. He had leaned against the wall of the building, dazed by the strength of his climax. He had barely caught Harper before the human collapsed into an inert, drunken heap. He had carried Harper back and put the Little Professor to bed before retreating to his own room, plotting new pleasures for the next day. But the next morning, Harper had evaded him and when finally cornered had claimed to remember nothing unusual happening on Pierpoint Drift.
It had been infuriating to have such pleasures offered and then snatched away. Tyr watched with narrowed eyes as Harper walked closer. He could smell the crisp, cool scent that was Harper but beneath it was the sharp scent of desire. So Harper liked what he was seeing. That was something to note and work with when the opportunity presented itself. He wanted Harper and planned to have the human but he would also have a small revenge for that earlier rejection. “Harper!”
Harper blinked at the impatient demand. He slid his pistol in the holster. The blue eyes were reproachful. “Say ‘please’ first.”
“What!” Tyr raised his head to stare at the engineer in disbelief. Harper had always been imprudent. He had secretly found Harper’s brashness amusing but this was hardly the place or time for it. Or the time for him to encourage it as tempting as the idea was. The Little Professor was clearly being affected by the gas.
The mingled scents of Harper and desire were dizzying and delightful, urging him to abandon pragmatism and play. Hmmm…how strongly had Harper been affected and how long would it last…No, Tyr told himself sternly, they needed to get out. Mercury would return soon. It was no time to indulge in playing games…unless; could Harper have already disposed of Mercury?
Harper crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Okay. If you are going to be like that, make it ‘pretty please with chocolate sprinkles on top’.”
Tyr closed his eyes, considering. Harper was not a big man so the engineer would be affected quickly and strongly. The result – an imprudent, genius-engineer with impaired judgment and lowered inhibitions. The eager look in Harper’s eyes and the Little Professor’s evident fascination was…most intriguing. He had seen hints of this in the past in Harper but never so openly displayed except for that one night that Harper had later denied.
It still rankled – the very idea that Harper could have had the privilege of being permitted to touch him so intimately and then claim that it had not been memorable. Tyr remembered every second, every reaction, every touch and had longed for more since then. He had dreamed of it every night. A growl rumbled in his throat. He strongly doubted that Harper had forgotten. And now, he had Harper and cameras. A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. When would he have a better chance of revenge? And when would he have such an opportunity again to lure the human into going too far to deny and back away? How far would Harper go?
First things first. Tyr opened his eyes and looked at the human pacing the room. “Harper, there is another Nietzschean on board, did you –“
“Oh, did I!” Harper interrupted. He spun around in a quick, gleeful circle, drawing his pistol. “I got him good. Teach Übers to mess with the Harper. Ha!” Harper twirled the pistol and took several pretend shots at imaginary targets.
“Harper, what happened to Mercury?” Tyr kept his tone firm and insistent.
Harper blew imaginary smoke from the barrel of the pistol. He holstered the weapon and walked over to stand next to the bed. He stood over Tyr, staring intently down at the Nietzschean. An interesting mix of emotions slid across his face…amusement, confusion, desire…before settling into one of petulance.
Tyr sighed languorously. He moved in a slow, fluid twist designed more to display his muscles and body than to achieve his freedom. The dazed expression on the Little Professor’s face was priceless. “Harper, the other Nietzschean, what happened to him?”
“Oh I’d say he’s pretty dead.” Harper swayed.
He frowned in confusion then his face clears. “Now, I remember. I’m
supposed to call
Andromeda.”
Tyr smiled. Well, then. If Mercury was dead and Dylan didn’t need anything…there was no reason not to indulge himself…and Harper also if he was correctly reading the human. The scents in the air told him just how aroused Harper was at the illusion of having Tyr bound and at his mercy. Tyr arched his chest, hiding a smile at his ease in winning Harper’s complete attention with the move. This had the potential to work out very well. He would have his revenge and his pleasure too while testing Harper’s suitability as his companion.
Tyr relaxed against the bed, watching as Harper pattered over to the console and opened a comlink to the Andromeda. He could call out and alert Dylan and Andromeda to the situation but why? There was no danger here now and there was the added advantage of escaping Andromeda’s scrutiny while he auditioned Harper.
“Breaker one-niner! Super Genius here. Ground control to major Rom-Doll. Kindly inform Mon Kapitan that the mission is accomplished. The bad guys are all finito. Kaput. Arrivederci. Sayonara. The ship is mine. All mine. Is the Harper good or what?”
“You sound self-satisfied.” Rommie commented.
“I’m not quite satisfied…yet.” Harper responded coyly. He turned to look at the restrained Nietzschean.
“Dylan!” Tyr yelled. No need to make the situation too easy for Harper. Where would the challenge be in that? He needed someone who was devious and complex enough to be a challenge…someone that would surprise him endlessly…someone that he could never quite control. Someone interesting. “Dylan!”
Harper frowned at him and tapped on the console, ordering the computer to block out Tyr’s voice. He wagged a finger reproachfully in Tyr’s direction.
Dylan’s voice came on, “Is Tyr okay? What’s going on?”
Tyr waited with interest to see how Harper would react. The Little Professor had been quick enough to silence the protest to Dylan. A good, decisive move and one made in spite of being drugged.
Harper leaned against the wall, his eyes lingering on Tyr’s bare form. “Oh, he looks fine to me, boss.”
Tyr hid a smile as he listened. He stretched subtly, keeping Harper’s attention on the slow ripple of muscle. He tossed his head, sending his braids sliding over the mattress. He had not failed to notice how often Harper’s eyes had lingered over the fall of his hair. After Harper’s denial, he had taunted the human with it. Preening it as Harper watched. Drawing it over one shoulder. Allowing it to slide loose down his back. Shifting his position when he and Harper shared a console on the Command Deck so that the ends brushed softly over Harper’s shoulders.
“Then why was he yelling?” Dylan asked.
“He’s just cranky; you know how Nietzscheans get when they aren’t getting any action.” Harper blew a kiss to Tyr.
Tyr turned his best glare on the human. He made a show of pulling against the ropes, coiling and uncoiling his muscles, arching his hips to bring his hardening cock to Harper’s attention and then collapsing in seeming helplessness on the bed. “Harper, when I get loose…”
“Report, Harper,” Dylan ordered. “What’s going on?”
Harper licked his lips as he continued to stare at the coil and flex of muscles as Tyr arched against the ropes. “Nothing right now. I’ve taken over the ship…and Tyr is…ah…a little tied up right now. We’ll meet you later.”
“Good. We’ll be waiting for you at the rendezvous. Hunt out.”
Tyr’s narrowed his eyes in apparent fury. He lifted his head, watching as Harper walked slowly around the bed. “Harper, what do you think you are doing? Untie me!”
Harper leaned over him. A strong, pale hand grabbed a handful of braids and pulled Tyr’s head back, arching the corded lines of his throat. The grip was firm but not painful. “You didn’t say the magic word.”
“The magic word?” Tyr could feel the human’s cool breath fan across his cheek. His own breath quickened as he looked into the soft, dreamy smolder of the blue eyes. The pupils were dilated and enormous. “Have you gone mad?”
“The magic word is a problem for you.” Harper nodded thoughtfully and released Tyr’s hair. Harper’s eyes were suddenly filled with mischief and daring. “Okay. I’m not unreasonable. I can understand your situation. ‘Pretty please with chocolate sprinkles on top’ is a little long. Not real dignified either. Not an alpha sort of phrase.”
Tyr’s eyes widened as Harper’s fingers stroked over his lips, parting them. Tyr nipped lightly at the fingertips. He had not been wrong in his estimation of Harper’s inclinations. He could taste desire on Harper’s skin. The scent of Harper’s arousal was growing heavier in the air.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to hear my name on those lips.” Harper frowned as he touched the ropes running across Tyr’s chest. He walked over to the stand and returned with a small knife.
Tyr shivered in pleasure at the darker, harder look that edged into Harper’s eyes. He laid still, his eyes half closed as Harper began cutting away the ropes across his chest. The blade nudged his chest lightly but never cut him.
Harper brushed the ropes away from Tyr’s chest and allowed them to fall onto the floor. He dropped the knife on top of the ropes. He trailed a finger down the center of Tyr’s chest. “So, how about a compromise. If I do anything…anything that you really want me to stop doing, just say my name. Not ‘boy’. Not ‘child’. Not ‘annoying little man’. My name. Capiche? Comprende? ”
“Harper, what have you been drinking?” Tyr frowned sternly at him. So ar, the engineer had been most interesting. The human had not backed down for all the glaring and snarling. Perhaps Harper would be suitable.
Tyr licked his lips. Would Harper go as far as he wanted…as far as he needed? He had been watching the human for a long time. Evaluating. Considering. Harper’s uneasiness in his presence told him that the engineer was aware of being watched. He doubted that Harper had any idea about the underlying reasons for that close observation.
Harper shook his head in disapproval. His fingers circled a dark nipple. “I see that I wasn’t clear enough. Not ‘Harper’. The magic word is ‘Seamus’. Say that and everything stops.”
Tyr growled. “Don’t make me kill you, boy.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You are not in a position to make threats, my naked Nietzschean friend.” Harper grinned and pinched one of Tyr’s dusky nipples hard enough to get a gasp of surprise from the big man. “Are we clear?”
Tyr nodded; hoping his refusal to speak would win him another such pinch. He waited expectantly as Harper’s fingers trailed around his other nipple. This time the touch was soft and delicate – barely there.
Harper lifted his hand, cupped his ear, and leaned toward Tyr. “I’m sorry I didn’t quite get that.”
“Yes.” Tyr ground out. He was both disappointed at being denied the pinch and pleased that Harper was not so predictable.
“See, you can cooperate.” Harper grinned. He snaked his hand down Tyr’s abdomen, tracing the flex and flow of the washboard abs with his fingers. Tyr’s stomach muscles quivered hopefully under the touch. “You like that don’t you? You like the way my hand feels on you.”
“I don’t want you to touch me.” Tyr snapped. His head moved restlessly on the mattress as the tension in his thighs and stomach increased under Harper’s exploring touch. It was all he could do not to moan his delight.
“Really?” Harper said. He glided his hand down to give the thick shaft a brief, affectionate squeeze. “Liar! Mr. Happy here seems glad to see me. So I don’t think you’re being honest with me.”
“You are insane.” A guttural growl rumbled in Tyr’s throat as his body arched helplessly into Harper’s touch. Oh, yes. He wanted more of this and he would have it. Revenge and pleasure. Knowing that he would possess undeniable proof that Harper wanted him was arousing. Almost as much as the curious, loving touches and the avid, intent look in the human’s blue eyes.
“Am I?” Harper looked mildly surprised. He bent and placed a quick, teasing kiss on the tip. His tongue flickered lightly against sensitive skin. “Well I’m not the one tied up on a bed who could be free if he said one little word now am I?”
Tyr gripped the ropes over his head firmly in his hands to keep from pulling free, to keep from pulling Harper down to him. “You annoying little….”
“Ah...ah...ah.” Harper warned. “Don’t make daddy give you a spanky.”
“Then I’d really have to kill you, Harper.” Tyr infused the words with menace but he writhed with eager delight. He added a deep growl for effect.
Harper gave an exaggerated shiver. He promptly reached out and sharply slapped the side of Tyr’s hip. “Oooooo…I’m sooooo scared! Ha…NOT!”
“Harper, how dare you…boy.” Tyr’s voice was hoarse. The sting of Harper’s slap only made him harder. Made him want Harper’s touch even more.
“Boy!” Harper scowled. “Who are you calling a boy, Über? I warned you about calling me that.”
“What are you going to do about it, Harper?” Tyr taunted, trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice. A delicious shiver of anticipation moved down his spine.
“Wait and see. There’s more than one way to bed a Nietzschean.” Harper stepped back, slowly pulling the hem of his red tee shirt free from his pants. His hands rubbed over the pale skin of his stomach and chest, pushing the fabric of the shirt up. He pulled it over his head and tossed it on the floor.
Nice. Very nice. Chest muscles were handsomely defined under the pale skin. He had wondered what Harper had looked like under those shirts. When it was his turn, he would feel that chest under his own hands. For now, it was enough to watch as Harper touched himself. Tyr tugged at his wrists, exaggerating the effort. “I’ve had enough of this game. Cut me free, you silly human!”
Harper sighed, arching his chest as his hands slid over it. His fingers moved over peach nipples, urging them into tight beads. “I do believe I have been insulted, Tyr. I warned you about calling me ‘boy’ and you did one better…I believe ‘silly human’ trumps ‘boy’. I think you’ll have to pay for that.”
What would Harper do? Tyr held his breath as Harper moved closer and bent low. The exquisite damp heat of the human’s mouth enveloped him; there was bare touch of velvet tongue ghosting over the head of his shaft before Harper pulled away. Tyr couldn’t stop himself for pressing upward in vain pursuit and snarling his displeasure. His shaft jutted, erect, glistening and bereft.
Harper licked his lips, holding Tyr’s smoldering stare. “If you’re naughty, you have to pay for it. If you’re good you get rewarded…maybe. Those are the Harper’s rules. If you want more…all you have to do is say you’re sorry for calling me ‘silly human’.”
Harper spun abruptly away. “I know what we need. Music. This place is so ‘chamber of horrors’. A little music should lighten the mood and liven things up around here since it looks like I’ll have to entertain myself until you apologize.”
He tapped away on the console, seemingly oblivious to Tyr. “No. No. No. And no. What lousy taste in music this guy had. Even Beka’s stuff is better than this. Ah-hah. What’s this? Oh yeah, an oldie but goodie. Haven’t heard this one in a long time. Yep, this will do nicely.”
“Harper, get back here. Now!” Tyr ordered, more determined than ever to keep Harper in camera range, as the slow sensual sound of Katarian drums began to float on the air. Slowly the hypnotic horns join the drums. Tyr shut his eyes tight as memories swirled softly with the music. This was the same music that had been playing that night in the bar and spreading out into the alley. He had always suspected that Harper remembered more than the engineer had admitted. The music and the memories charmed his cock. It rose higher, harder with the music.
“Sorry. No can do. Don’t you just love this music?” Harper removed his belt and dropped it on the floor. He unfastened his shoes and tossed them into a corner along with his socks. “Not gonna free you until I get that apology.”
Harper swayed to the music, dancing around the bed. He spun to face Tyr. His eyes widened with pleasure at Tyr’s swollen cock. He ran a quick finger down it and deftly outlined the sac below. He grinned. “So you do want to dance with me.”
He swayed back, holding Tyr’s hot stare. Harper bit his lower lip. His hands moved over his chest, down his waist and over the waistband of his cargo pants. For a moment his hands pressed against the fabric, framing the solid bulge. He swayed, tossing his head back as his hands stoked over himself. He unfastened the top button and slowly slid the zipper down as his hips undulated to the slow, sensual sounds of the horns. He pivoted, looking at Tyr over his shoulder. His vivid eyes glowed with a wicked glee as his hands slid down to his waistband and slowly pushed the pants down, partly exposing the blue tops of his boxers. Then he pulled them up, inch by slow inch never taking his eyes from the Nietzschean.
He turned and danced over to Tyr. Harper leaned close to the big man’s face looking directly into the dark depths of his eyes and whispered, “Want me to take ‘em off?”
Tyr nodded. His mouth was dry. He glanced in the direction of one of the hidden cameras. A slow, smile quirked his lips. He would make Harper lead him every step down this path. Let the human try to deny all again after that.
“And what do we say?” Harper wheedled as he swayed provocatively.
“Please.” Tyr gasped. He moved his arms, trying to accommodate the erect bone blades that mirrored the hard ache in his cock. He wanted badly to see the rest of Harper. What delights did the human hide under those loose boxers and pants? What did Harper look like?
“Well, it’s not my name but it’ll do for a start. Do you remember what I said about being good?”
Tyr’s eyes narrowed impatiently. He wanted to see Harper bare now.
“What will you give me, Mr. “My middle name’s “Trouble” Anasazi? Hmmm…What will you give me to take ‘em off?” Harper spun lightly on one foot before leaning over Tyr and sliding his cheek against Tyr’s straining cock.
“What do you want?” Tyr croaked. The faint roughness of Harper’s shaven cheek almost sent him over the edge. He just barely reined himself back in. He would not yield this easily. Harper would have to work for it.
Harper considered as he gave his body to the music, to the exquisitely sensual rhythms of the drums and horns. “A kiss would work.”
“Very well.” Tyr offered a longsuffering sigh that barely concealed his inward glee. Harper was playing beautifully to his needs. He would have to make a note to stock his quarters with that beer that Harper liked so much. And get a copy of this music. Harper was going to dance again for him. And, perhaps, he might lure Harper by offering to dance for the human…if Harper earned it. Tyr licked his lips at the idea of what inspirations Harper might come up with if offered the proper incentive.
Harper blinked in surprise. There was a suspicious glint in his eyes. “Hey, you’ve got something up your sleeve…except you don’t have any sleeves.” Harper giggled at his own joke. “Okay, no biting. And I want tongues and everything. Otherwise the pants stay on.”
“Agreed.” Tyr growled. His legs moved restlessly. The prospect of kissing Harper had him teetering on the edge of control. He couldn’t last much longer.
As the horns soared, Tyr parted his lips under the heat of Harper’s mouth. Tyr closed his eyes and fought hard not to groan from the sweet pressure. When he felt the tip of Harper’s tongue he opened his mouth wider, stroking the length of his own tongue against it. He moaned as Harper explored his mouth with ruthless urgency and aggression. When Harper finally came up for air Tyr knew there was no going back, no denying what happened…not this time.
“The Harper is a man of his word.” Harper stepped back. His fingers pressed against his lips as if he were lingering, savoring the Nietzscheans taste. His eyes were glazed with desire as he slid the pants off kicking them away. His thickly swollen cock pressed eagerly against the dark blue fabric of his boxers.
Harper reached out and slid his hand up the sensitive skin of Tyr’s muscled thigh. He hopped up on the bed, between Tyr’s legs. He leaned closer, nuzzling against the froth of dark curls spread around the base of Tyr’s cock. He rubbed his cheek, his lips against the plush textured skin. Tyr growled, deep and guttural at the thought of Harper’s crisp, cool scent marking his cock, claiming it. Tyr went completely still, panting as the bliss of Harper’s mouth moved over him. He was reduced to dazed sensation. Tyr arched helplessly as the human’s velvet tongue danced lithely over his thick length and swirled deliciously over the wide head, conducting a skillful flirtation as Harper’s cool hand settled on him, squeezing and stroking.
“I will not allow this.” Tyr taunted breathlessly. His head moved, tossing against the mattress, scattering his braids wildly.
Harper looked upward, allowing Tyr’s cock to slide from his mouth but his hands continued to move deftly over it and the heavy sac below. “You won’t allow this? You won’t? I don’t think you have a say here, Mr. Anasazi.”
Harper looked back down at his prize. He kissed the tip, flicking this tongue over it in between each word. “This is not between me and you. This is between me and this.” He licked Tyr’s cock from base to tip before sucking the length deep into his mouth once more.
Tyr bit back a groan as Harper’s sweet mouth worked him closer to completion. His head thrashed on the bed as he arched up into Harper’s gifted mouth. He couldn’t take much more of this torture before he exploded. But what sweet torment it was.
“Oh yes, Seamus!” Tyr called Harper’s name in a ragged voice, yielding when he could not longer hold out against Harper’s wiles.
“That wasn’t so difficult was it?” Harper licked his lips and smiled sleepily. He nuzzled contentedly at the relaxed muscles of Tyr’s thighs.
Slowly Tyr became aware of Harper’s weight across his thighs. He pulled his hands loose and reached down to tilt the human’s head back. He looked down into the sleeping face of the engineer. Tyr sighed. “Not again.”
However the situation had certain advantages lacking in the experience on Pierpoint. Tyr dropped the rope from his hands. He eased Harper off him gently and onto the side of the bed. His hands hesitated over the mysteries hidden by the boxers. No, let Harper reveal his mysteries later.
Tyr wiggled his ankles and eased his feet free. He inched off the bed, careful not to wake Harper. He turned to the console by the bed and keyed in playback mode. The events of the past hour played across the screen. He was becoming aroused again, just watching Harper flow over him.
Tyr smiled with satisfaction. Let Harper try to deny this when the human woke. He had the proof and he was going to keep it. He made a copy and walked over to his clothes, tucking the disc into a hidden compartment on his bandolier.
Tyr turned back to the bed and slid back in. He drew Harper, close to him. He did not want to miss the moment when Harper awakened. He and Harper had much to discuss when the human woke. Tyr allowed himself to doze lightly, waking whenever Harper moved. It was pleasant having Harper curled confidently around him.
Tyr woke again as Harper’s breathing pattern changed from deeper to lighter. Harper was still mostly asleep but close to drifting into full wakefulness. Tyr pulled his companion closer and waited to see what would happen.
Harper snuggled closer. He had never had a dream that seemed so real. And he had dreamed a lot since he’d gone crazy on Pierpoint Drift. Thank the Divine, that he had the liquor to blame it on or he would have been one dead mongoose. He still might be a dead mongoose if Tyr ever figured out that he knew and remembered what happened. He wasn’t sure that he’d completely fooled the big guy ‘cause Tyr kept watching him and dropping little comments. Not to mention all that standing close and looking luscious and provocative but the Harper knew better than to fall for Nietzschean tricks. As sure as he fell for it and put a hand on Tyr the big guy would do something permanent and fatal to him.
Ah, but wouldn’t it be nice…if, Harper sighed and snuggled closer. No doubt it was the dream but his pillow sure smelled like Tyr. All rich, luscious and yummy. His pillow seemed awfully firm and lumpy too. His pillow seemed to be breathing as well. Harper froze, his eyes snapping open.
An acre of rich, chocolate chest stretched out beneath him. A dark chocolate nipple was directly in his line of vision. A big hand cupped his head and bone blades pricked against the bare skin of his back and arm. Bare skin…he was…bare. Bare and plastered completely up against Tyr. Tyr was bare as well. Harper’s eyes widened as he peeked at the room…it exactly matched the one in the dream. The wildly erotic dream where Tyr was tied up naked and he had…he had…Harper moaned. He was so dead.
Maybe…Maybe Tyr wasn’t wake yet. That was his only chance. Sneak off. Get dressed. Lie. He whispered softly to himself. “Oh, crap! That was no dream.”
Harper eased away only to find himself seized and pulled back down. He looked up into Tyr’s dark, intent face and moaned. “I’m dead meat. I’m so dead meat.”
“Why would you say that, Harper?” Tyr asked softly. His voice, eyes and expression were completely neutral, giving away nothing as he leaned over Harper.
“What am I doing here, Tyr?” Harper gave his best blank face back. “What did you do to me?”
“What did I do to you, Seamus?” Tyr asked. The amber eyes were amused. “I was in no position to do anything. I was completely at your mercy.”
Harper rubbed his forehead and tried to look sickly and pitiful. “God, my head hurts. I don’t remember a thing. What happened?”
“A most enjoyable interlude my little human. Most enjoyable for all concerned.” Tyr grabbed the human’s chin and studied the pale face carefully. No, Harper wasn’t ill. The human was afraid. Tyr could smell the strong scent of fear. He didn’t like that scent on Harper. “Look at me Harper. Look in my eyes and tell me you don’t remember making love with me.”
Harper’s blue gaze slid away to stare over Tyr’s shoulder. “I don’t remember anything after I boarded the ship and killed that Nietzschean scumbag.”
Tyr’s full lips curved in a slow, wicked smile. “Then it is fortunate that there is a record of our…interactions.”
“What!?” Harper’s blue eyes were enormous with shock.
Tyr reached upward, punching a button on the console. He had programmed it to play at his favorite scene, Harper’s slow dance of seduction…Harper’s eager mouth working avidly on him as he lay bound.
Harper buried his face on Tyr’s broad chest. “Oh frak, just shoot me now!”
Tyr laughed and cradled the human closer. “Harper, I found the entire exchange quite enjoyable. I would like to be assured of future interludes. If you are amenable to such an arrangement.”
Harper’s head came up and he stared at Tyr with wide blue eyes. “Wha…what? You want to do it again?”
“You do not?” Tyr asked dryly. He had ample evidence that the human most definitely did but the engineer dared reject him twice…there would never be another offer. It was a measure of Harper’s desirability that he had continued to pursue the human despite the first rejection and had decided to accept a small revenge as recompense.
“Well, yeah…but I thought you’d want to pretend…never mind, shutting up now.”
Tyr growled in displeasure. “You thought I would deny what we shared?”
“Actually…well, yeah.”
“Is that why you avoided me after Pierpoint Drift?” Tyr asked, gentling his voice tone in response to the slowly fading fear scent. “Because you thought I would reject you?”
“Yes.” Harper shyly nuzzled against Tyr’s throat. “I thought you know, since I was kinda drunk that you’d just chalk it up to that and either kill me or leave me alone. I didn’t know what to do when you didn’t kill me and you didn’t avoid me either.”
“Let me make this clear, hmm?” Tyr gripped the rumpled blond hair, cupping the back of Harper’s head as he gently urged Harper upward. Wide blue eyes stared into brown. “I want you, Seamus. I want to continue what we have started here. Do you?”
“Is Rev Bem a Wayist?” Harper grinned. “I mean, yeah…I want to.”
“Good. Now, let me get dressed so we can get to that rendezvous point.” Tyr got up and began, pulling on his clothes. Satisfied now that Harper smelled only of the human’s normal own crisp, cool scent overlaid with the darker, heavier notes of his own scent. Harper slid off the bed and pattered over to pull on his on clothes. He glanced back hesitantly at the Nietzschean.
Tyr fastened his black leather pants and looked at Harper. “Something else, little man?”
“Well, yeah. I’d feel better if we kind of…you know…lost that little recording of the ‘Dance of the Seven Veils’.”
Tyr laughed as he dropped the chain mail vest over his head. He fastened the bandolier around his chest, his hand pausing to stroke the secret compartment as Tyr contemplated his next game with Harper. How long will it take Harper to grow suspicious? To begin to wonder if a copy was made? To begin to hunt for it? What would Harper traded for a copy? And how long would it take for Harper to wonder how many copies there were? “Whatever you say, Seamus. Go ahead. Now that you’ve admitted that you want to continue, there’s no need for that particular record.”
Harper scampered over to the console and taps a few buttons on the console, deleting the recording. His shoulders relax. “Whew. That’s better.”
Tyr grinned as he walked up behind Harper and pulled him into a secure embrace. Tyr bent down and claimed the smaller man’s mouth.
Harper responded enthusiastically. His body pressed back into the heat of Tyr’s frame. His hand stroked back the long braids. “Whoa! I can’t wait to get more of that.”
“Oh there’s much more in store for you.” Tyr whispered against Harper’s mouth before releasing him.
“Guess I’d better get us to slipstream. Don’t want to get to the rendezvous so late they wonder what we’ve been up to.” Harper darted through the door.
Tyr slipped a finger into the compartment of his bandolier and pulled out the disc. “Let them wonder, little man. Let them wonder.”
He laughed softly as he tucked the disc back in its hidden slot and followed Harper through the door.
THE END