Justin (15 page)

*** *** ***

“I’m closed,” the red-haired bartender said. She was clinking glasses and metal tankards behind the bar, shoving them through her sterilizer.

Deanna glanced at the off-worlder who sat on a barstool, a glass of ale in front of him. He’d had a few, by the look of him, but he managed to pin Deanna with a steady stare.

He had green eyes, almost emerald in color, startling on a world of dark-eyed people. Deanna had done her research—his name was Mitch and he liked to frequent this bar when he was on Bor Narga.

“I’m not a customer,” the man said. The fact that he answered for himself, instead of letting a woman do it, also marked him as an off-worlder. “I’m a friend.”

“All my paperwork is in order,” Judith the bartender said. “And I’m too busy for a spot inspection. Come back tomorrow.”

Deanna held up her hands. “I’m off duty. I came to find Justin.”

Judith didn’t stop messing with the glasses. “He lives next door.”

“I know that. He won’t answer his door.”

Judith shrugged. “Then he wants to be left alone. He’s had enough trouble with patrollers.”

Deanna drew a breath, trying to stem her impatience. “I need to see him. I’m helping him with something.” She glanced again at the green-eyed man. “I’m a friend.”

The man’s interest perked. “Wait a minute. Did a dickhead off-worlder make your life hell sometime today?”

Deanna remembered the asshole on the Vistara, and the satisfaction she’d taken in making him walk away.

“Yes, but I took care of it. Why?”

The man grinned. “I’d say Justin took care of it. It was a thing of beauty.”

“What was?” Deanna asked in alarm. “What did he do?”

“I didn’t know Shareem could fight like that.”

Fight like what?
“What did he do?”

“Found the guy and beat him up for you. I got to watch.” The man chuckled.

“Why didn’t you stop him?” Deanna demanded. “He’s going to get himself arrested.” She trailed into muttering. “Damn it.”

“Why do you want to see him?” Judith asked.

“I have to tell him something important. He’s been dodging my calls all night, and now he won’t answer the door.”

“He was pretty drunk when we parted company,” Mitch said.

Judith finally looked up from her cleaning and studied Deanna, but she directed her words at Mitch. “I think she’s the patroller Justin was talking about. Aiden said he saw them together the other day, going into Justin’s apartment.”

“The one Justin says looks hot in her coveralls?” Mitch answered, giving Deanna a once-over. “I’m willing to bet.”

Deanna’s face heated. “I really need to talk to him.”

“So, go talk to him,” Judith said.

Deanna blew out her breath. Justin’s door was locked, he wouldn’t take her calls, and from what Mitch had said, he might be drunkenly asleep.

Then again, Deanna was still a patroller, and she had a pass code to override his door if necessary. And she had handcuffs.

She looked at Judith then Mitch, who both watched her expectantly. She nodded. “All right.”

Deanna turned around and walked back out into the coming dawn.

Justin was having a bad dream.

He was at DNAmo again, his hands and feet bound, while the scientists injected him with everything from suped-up adrenaline to the strongest tranquilizers to see what his system could take. He remembered his heart nearly exploding in his chest and him screaming, to being so groggy he barely had strength to breathe.

If he doesn’t make it,
one of the scientists was saying,
take a few DNA samples and incinerate the body.

Kind of a waste,
another said.

Don’t worry. He has a daughter. We can do the tests on her.

No!

Justin jerked his hands as he came awake, panting and sweating, and found his wrists still bound together.

What the fuck?

He lay facedown on his bed, naked—he’d stripped off his clothes before he’d fallen onto the mattress and never bothered with the covers. His arms were now stretched over his head, his wrists tethered to his headboard.

The cuffs felt wrong, though. They weren’t the super-strong metal that had kept him constrained at DNAmo, but soft and warm, like his own toys.

Someone had gotten out his handcuffs and manacled him to his own bed.

Justin lifted his head, his headache pounding as he looked over his shoulder.

He went instantly hard when he saw Deanna standing beside his bed, arms folded, her coverall half open to reveal the tunic beneath.

“What the fuck?” he said out loud. Or maybe he should say,
be gentle with me, sweetheart.

Then again, he didn’t want any gentleness going on in this room right now. Rough play had its time, and that time was now.

“You didn’t answer your com,” Deanna said. “Or your door.”

“Busy. Then drunk.”

“And sound asleep. You never heard me come in.”

“Are you arresting me? Again? Have to admit, this is more fun than the first time. Or do you have a stun gun ready to go?”

“I should,” Deanna said. “But I don’t.” She put her hand on his bare shoulder, and Justin jumped like he’d been shocked. “I was thinking about a dream I had after I met you. I dreamed I came into your apartment, and you were tied to a chair, waiting for me.”

Justin got harder. “Yeah? You have a thing for putting me in bondage, do you Patroller?”

“Maybe.” Deanna’s voice was soft. “Though I don’t know why.”

“You’re a closet dominatrix?”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“You like being in control,” Justin said. “You want to be the one holding the whip, so to speak. Maybe that’s why you became a patroller.”

“I don’t know.” Again the soft wonder. “I like both ways, I think.”

Justin broke into a warm sweat. “That’s what a level two likes to hear.”

Deanna reached for the bedside table, and he realized that his box of accoutrements lay open on it. His heart beat faster as she lifted something out of it.

“What are these?” She showed him the three small balls nestled in their velvet-lined box.

“Those are for you. To remind you of me when I’m not around. Want me to show you how to use them?”

“Not yet.” Deanna returned the box, to his disappointment, and brought out a slim, small plug. “What is this?”

“Ass plug.”

“Do you use it on yourself?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

Why? Why bother to eat delicious food when bland fare will keep you alive?

Justin shrugged the best he could. “It feels good. Full. Stimulating. Want me to show you?”

Deanna examined the little plug in curiosity. It wasn’t very big, just enough to feel, to enhance the lady’s pleasure while he pleasured her in other places. “How does it . . ? How do you . . . ?”

“Lube. In the jar. Smear it on, and it goes in nice.”

He held his breath while Deanna opened a jar of flowery-smelling lube and tentatively smeared it onto the plug. Watching her concentrate, the toy near her face, had him throbbing and ready.

Justin pulled at his cuffs, but they wouldn’t budge. He’d designed them himself, and he’d done a good job.

Deanna put the lube away, then her lips quirked into a little smile as she touched the plug to Justin’s buttocks. “It goes here?”

Justin stiffened. She didn’t mean she wanted to try it on herself. Oh, no. His little patroller preferred to torture Justin.

He forced himself to relax. “You have to play a little bit. Get me ready and open. It’s a very sensitive place, and it can hurt if you rush.”

“I won’t hurt you, Justin.”

Gods, hearing her say that in her sexy little voice was going to make him lose it way too soon.

“Put lube on your fingers. Then touch me there, very gently, until I open to you.”

Deanna nodded, her expression solemn. He might be instructing her how to fix a hovercar.

He watched while she opened the lube again, making her fingers glisten. When she lowered her hand to his backside, Justin closed his eyes and moved all his attention to the warm, sensual pressure of her fingers.

She had no idea what to do. An experienced woman would press around his entrance before slipping in a finger. Deanna touched, caressed, rubbed, and played, until Justin thought he’d come off the bed.

This was so backward.
He
should be tethering her, touching her, teaching her how to take the plug. But how sexy was it to teach her how to pleasure him, and how fucking good it was to lie here and take it.

Under her silken touch, his cock got harder, his backside more ready. The warmth of her fingertip slipped inside—by her start, she hadn’t expected that. But she’d learn that when it was time, it was time.

“Now,” he whispered.

He clenched his jaw when her warm, sweet finger went away, then made himself relax again when he felt the cooler press of the plug. It slid in, nice and snug, not too big.

“What does that feel like?” Deanna asked, full of curiosity.

“Hot. Full. Satisfying. Good. I’ll show you once you unlock me.”

She didn’t move to. “What else can I do to you?”

Justin’s headache had disappeared. His body was pliant, warm, excited. “Turn me over and suck me. Let me suck you. Get up here in front of me so I can fuck you. Want me to go on?”

Her eyes went wide at his blunt words, but she stood her ground. “How could you . . . back to front?”

Justin leveraged himself to his knees, the plug staying put. He held onto the headboard, his cock sticking out like a thick pole.

“There’s plenty of room for you to kneel in front of me, even if you did chain me up.”

“You mean . . . up my ass?”

The hesitant way she said it had him throbbing with longing. “No, sweetheart. That’s too much for you yet. I mean in your pretty pussy. I can do you if you’re in front of me.”

She wanted to. Her cheeks and throat were flushed, her nipples tight. Justin waited for her to turn and walk out, to leave him manacled and needy, to have second thoughts about being here at all.

Then she pulled her coverall down and stripped out of her underclothes. Naked, she was sleek and beautiful, her breasts full, hips curved, legs strong.

Still, Deanna hesitated, hands pressed together, fingertips at her mouth.

“I’m your prisoner, Deanna Surrell,” Justin said, his need for play rising. “What do you want your prisoner to do?”

Deanna swallowed, her slender throat moving. All at once, she ducked under his arm and came up on the bed, facing him.

“This,” she said, and kissed him.

*** *** ***

Deanna shook all over as Justin kissed her, his strong mouth pinning her despite his hands being cuffed.

Touching him had been exciting, watching him respond to her had made her feel powerful and tender at the same time.

Before when he’d loved her, he’d started slowly, caressing. This time, his mouth punished, his teeth catching and nipping her lips. “Turn around,” he said.

“I thought I was the one calling the shots,” Deanna said.

“Turn around and take hold of the headboard, before I break out of my chains and swat your ass.”

Deanna shivered, a dark excitement rushing through her. She kissed his lips one more time, then obeyed.

She wasn’t certain that there was room, but Justin told her how to get positioned in front of him, her back to him, hips canted up and open to him. She jerked when his tip pressed her opening . . . no, he wouldn’t fit.

Before Deanna could slide away in worry, Justin pushed himself all the way inside.

He was filling her up, spreading her, too much, too much. Having him inside her the first time had felt good, but this took her breath away.

“You like that, Deanna?” he asked. “Sweet baby. You like being full of me?”

“Yes.
Yes
.”

“You’re a cute little tease.” Justin’s hands were strong on the headboard, his forearms bunching with muscle. “Binding my hands, playing with my ass. I can’t let you get away with that.”

“No,” she said breathlessly.

“So take me. Take all of me.”

She was taking all of him, whether she liked it or not—and she decided she definitely liked it.

“I’m only sorry I can’t spank your ass while I’m doing you,” Justin said. “But you have me chained. Later, though, I’ll make up for it.”

Spank her? Deanna wasn’t sure what to think of that. But Justin thrusting against her, his balls slapping her ass, made a pleasant tingle on her skin.

He kept thrusting, never slowing, never backing off the power. Deanna lost control of her words, crying out how much she loved what he was doing to her. Justin’s dark voice responded, calling her his, telling her what he wanted to do to her, how much he loved fucking her.

It went on until Deanna was certain nothing in her life had ever existed but this bed beneath her hands and knees, the strong man thrusting into her and making himself a part of her. Fire ignited where they joined and ran through her body, the stream of it one, and whole.

“Deanna. Gods.
Fuck
.”

Justin’s seed scalded into her, as Deanna continued to come apart. She wanted to cry, the feeling so beautiful, knowing that it wouldn’t last.

She heard the sound of tearing metal, then Justin’s hands were on her back, his weight pressing her down into the bed.

He started to laugh, his breath hot in her ear. Justin caressed her hair, turning her head so he could kiss her, still laughing. The chain had broken, Justin’s hands still in the wide cuffs, but no longer tethered together around the headboard.

Deanna laughed too, loving how his body shuddered on top of hers. He was still inside her, still hard, but they moved more slowly together, until they drifted to silence. Justin’s bedside clock chimed softly to show that it was full morning, the sun up now, the last thing Deanna heard before she drifted to sleep.

*** *** ***

Justin had a momentary panic when he opened his eyes again. The last time he’d fallen asleep with Deanna, she’d been gone when he awoke, and he’d lain there, bereft. He hadn’t liked that feeling, didn’t want to experience it again.