WarlordsBounty (4 page)

I’m told that’s what families do.
Khan curled his
fingers into fists, resisting the urge to pull Zeta into his arms, to banish
her loneliness with his lips and hands and cock.

“Families will do anything for each other.” She resumed
pacing. “Pay anything. Your family must be wealthy, if other species are
willing to fight for one of your planets.” She moved faster and faster, her
hair streaming out behind her, a brown tail on his burning bright comet of a
female. “And I don’t need the same amount, only enough for one month.”

One month of what?
Khan eyed Zeta with interest, his
wild theory about her blown to pieces, her obsessive need for credits clearly
not stemming from her impoverished upbringing but from some unknown expense.

She pressed her lips together, not elaborating. The silence
stretched, broken only by her footsteps and the rush of the underground
streams, the hidden source of fresh water on
Chamele
4
.

Zeta turned quickly and flicked her hair over her shoulders,
huffing her irritation over the unrestrained curls, the cable she’d previously
utilized lost.

Khan yanked off his hair fastener. “Come here,” he ordered,
wrapping the strap around his wrist.

His
gerel
continued to pace, ignoring him, the only
female in the
Chamele
system, other than his mother, daring to do so.

Khan watched bemused and enchanted by his little bounty
hunter’s lack of fear. He patiently waited for her to pass by him, reached out
and dragged her toward him.

“Let me go.” She struggled, thrashing her arms and legs, his
female a fighter, a warrior. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Be still,” he commanded, subduing her easily, admiring the
rise and fall of her chest. “I’ll fix your hair.” He positioned her between his
legs, her straight spine facing him, and she stilled, her body stiff,
unyielding.

Proud.
Khan’s lips twitched. He brushed her hair
back, the tendrils decadently soft and Zeta sighed, the small sound of
surrender hardening his cock. He threaded his fingers through her curls, gently
separating the strands.

“My mom would fix my hair.” Zeta tilted her head back.
“She’d hum a bit off-tune while she worked.” Her lips lifted into a secretive
smile. “And I’d feel…I’d feel…”

“Loved.” Khan supplied the word his tough woman couldn’t
say. “She loved you.” He massaged Zeta’s scalp with his fingertips.

“She died.”

Khan weaved the thin strip of brown leather into Zeta’s
hair, copying a style he’d often seen his mother wear, his unpracticed results
clumsy and crude, and he waited for Zeta to expand on her comment. She stared
straight ahead, her chin tilted upward.

“And her death hurt,” he prodded.

“Her death made me strong.” Zeta wiggled forward and Khan
quickly tied the strap. “It showed me I didn’t need anyone.” She bounded away
from him, tossing her head back defiantly. “I didn’t need for you to fix my
hair.”

Khan gazed up at his
gerel
, feeling her pain, her
loneliness. “I wanted to fix your hair.” A brown curl dangled by her right ear,
a wayward tendril he’d missed.

“I don’t need you.” She crossed her arms in front of her
body.

“We’re returning to the ship.” Khan lunged to his feet,
fighting the urge to kiss the stubbornness off her face. “We’ll talk about what
you
need
later.”

Zeta didn’t meet his gaze. “After you.” She waved her hands,
hanging back, his rashly independent female’s decision to follow, not lead,
telling.

I pushed her too hard, angered her too much, and now,
she’ll collect that bounty on my arrogant head.
Khan accepted his failure
and strode forward, her betrayal serving as his punishment.

Zeta trailed behind him, her footsteps uncharacteristically
quiet, and Khan’s disappointment flowed to excitement.
She’s hunting me.
His heart beat faster and his skin prickled with awareness.

He suppressed the wild impulse to run, to force her to chase
him, and he walked toward the cave’s entrance, his gait loose and leisurely.
Behind him, the fabric of Zeta’s pack rustled
. She’s reaching for her
restraints.
His cock pushed against the leather of his leg coverings, his
need for her not diminished by their four rounds of rutting.

When will she take me?
He rounded a bend, his
brother’s form, visible only to another
Chamele
, hidden in an alcove.

“It’s done,” Murad whispered, the volume of his voice below
human levels of hearing.

Khan nodded, speaking too risky, and he stalked past his
brother, Zeta tracking him closely, remaining unaware that they were no longer
alone.
I’m betraying her as she betrays me.
He pressed his lips
together.
Can we survive this?

Doubts churned within him, intrigue and secrets not in his
warrior nature. The path narrowed and he angled his shoulders to navigate the
passage, the stone closing around them.
I am aware of her betrayal. I
manufactured it while she—

She slammed her slight weight into his back, pressing his
face against the stone. He allowed her to control him, her strength surprising
yet not enough to subdue a
Chamele
warrior in his prime.

“Zeta.” His cock bobbed, his need for her escalating.

“Don’t resist this.” She pulled his arms behind him and
locked his wrists in place, the energy of the restraints buzzing over his skin.
“I don’t want to have to stun you.” The cold muzzle of her gun prodded his
back.

“I’m not resisting this,” Khan calmly pointed out, being
stunned an unpleasant experience he’d rather not have again.

“You’re…” Zeta paused. “You’re not resisting this.” She
circled him, her forehead wrinkled, her confusion clear. “Why aren’t you
fighting for your freedom?” She frowned. “Do you want to be captured?”

Khan met her gaze and held it, unwilling to blatantly lie to
his
gerel
. “Yes.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You
want
to be captured?”

The next question is why.
“The sun is setting, Zeta.”
Khan brushed past her, not yet ready to answer that question. His arm grazed
hers and a ripple of pleasure rolled over him. “We should leave the planet
before dark.”

“We?” she repeated, stomping her boots on the cave floor,
her rising anger audible. “There is no
we
.
I’m
trading
you
for credits. Whatever plan you’re hatching had better take that into account.”

She’s fiercely honest.
He grinned, the sting of her
betrayal easing. “It does.”

“Because I have to do this, Khan,” she informed him yet
again.

“I know you do.” He blinked as he stepped into the open, his
vision quickly adjusting to the increased light. The lowering sun’s rays
reached across the stark landscape of their hunting planet, painting the barren
surface with brilliant streaks of red, yellow and orange. “But I don’t know
why.”

“Tell me what your plan is and I’ll tell you why.”

Khan said nothing, the plan belonging to his brother, his
role being to do his part and keep his mouth shut. They trudged in silence
toward her ship, Murad’s warriors lining the path, invisible to Zeta. They
openly gawked at Khan, a
Chamele
Warlord in restraints, and Khan
grimaced, anticipating the lifetime of jibes stretching before him.

Soft fingers caressed his bound wrists. “Are the restraints
hurting you?” Zeta’s voice rose with concern. “I could loosen them a bit.”

“They’re fine,” he grunted. Sartaq sniggered quietly,
standing by a long-dead tree, a wide grin on his foolish face. “I’m
Chamele
’s
best
warrior.” Khan glowered at him and the cocky male tipped his
scarred head, Murad’s warriors as flippant as his brother was. “My pain tolerance
is high.”

“You
are
in pain.” Zeta fiddled with the restraints
and they loosened. “That should be better.”

“I’m the fugitive you’re trading for credits,” he reminded
her, the caring she’d never admit to endangering Berke’s plan.

“I’ve
never
abused a fugitive.” Zeta poked him with
her gun. “Unnecessarily,” she added and Khan chuckled, his
gerel
not
having a light hand. “I might have smacked a few, kneed some groins, stunned
eleven of them, and then there was that one…”

“That one?” he prompted, entertained by her confession.

“He eventually learned to walk again.” Zeta pushed him
again. “That wasn’t entirely my fault. The cruiser—”

“Get back!” She rushed in front of him, spreading her arms,
aiming her gun at her ship. “It isn’t safe.” She waved her free hand, her
fingertips tapping his chest. “Someone’s been here.”

She’s protecting me again.
“I’m a Warlord,” he
remarked dryly, torn between amusement and irritation, Zeta’s belief that he
couldn’t defend himself extremely frustrating.

“And I’m your bounty hunter,” she snapped, backing her firm
ass into his hard cock. “It’s my duty to transfer you safely to the client so
get back and put that thing away.” Her face flamed bright red.

“That
thing
is attached to me.” Khan didn’t move,
holding his ground, unapologetic for his arousal, Zeta being the source of his
excitement. “And I had the door repaired while we were rutting.”

Zeta turned on him, the muzzle of her gun pointed at his
chest. “
What
did you do?”

He winced, his eardrums ringing, his
gerel
’s rage as
loud as her passion. “I had the door replaced.”

“
You
had
my
ship’s door replaced.” The red in
her face crept down Zeta’s neck and disappeared under her deep blue flight
suit. “You had no right to touch my ship, fugitive.”

“You’re welcome,” Khan muttered, his fiercely independent
female difficult to please.

“You’re not welcome.” She stomped up to her ship and slammed
her palm against the control panel. The repaired door lowered into a ramp. “I
don’t—”

“Need me. I know.” Khan marched into the vessel, ducking his
head as he entered. “For a being who doesn’t want or need anyone else, you have
a very large ship.” Lights flickered to life around him.

“My ship is none of your concern. The containment chamber is
to the left.” Zeta nudged him with her gun.

He ignored her directions, passed the small dark room, and
moved along the narrow corridors. She huffed and puffed behind him, muttering
curse words in multiple languages, his female having a vocabulary rivaling that
of his crudest warrior.

Khan proceeded to the bridge and cast a curious glance
around the large space where Zeta, as the ship’s captain and sole crew member,
spent much of her time. Closed viewscreens surrounded him, casting shadows on
the empty seats, the consoles devoid of any personal effects, the color scheme
black and silver and forbiddingly sterile.

Khan pressed his lips together, suppressing his anger, a
containment chamber on a
Chamele
warship more welcoming than Zeta’s
workspace. He stalked to the center of the barren room and claimed the first officer’s
seat as his, that chair situated closest to the captain’s.

“You’re not sitting there.” Gold sparked in Zeta’s brown
eyes and pink flushed her pale cheeks, her anger resembling a raging storm,
turbulent and beautiful. “I don’t keep fugitives on my bridge.”

“You do now. I go where you go.” Khan shifted in the chair,
seeking to find a comfortable position, his bound arms pressing against the
seatback. “I’m too dangerous to allow out of your sight.”

“You
are
dangerous.” Zeta studied him, her hands
resting on her shapely hips. “And I don’t have time to argue with you. The sun
will set soon.” She crouched at his feet and fastened his ankles to the chair,
restraints he could break with one solid kick. “Bend over.”

Khan leaned forward and she reached over him, her breasts a
tongue’s length away from his face, the scent of her wet pussy swirling around
them, torturing him. He rumbled with contentment as she glided her hands along
his back and fumbled with his restraints, releasing him.

Khan grabbed her waist and she squeaked. “Don’t you—”

He pulled her toward him, slid her onto his lap and covered
her mouth with his, savoring her tartness, her flavor resembling full-sun
nogoi
,
a delicacy on his planet. She squirmed, offering a halfhearted resistance.

Khan captured her beautiful face between his rough palms and
she quieted, their embrace gentling, her slender fingers stroking along his
neck up and down, up and down. They breathed in harmony, their bodies fitting
together, one.

“I like the way you subdue me,
gerel
.” He kissed the
freckle on the tip of her nose and she blinked, her long lashes fluttering. “I
should have allowed you to capture me sooner.”

“
Allowed
me to capture you.” Zeta pulled away from
him, cool air rushing between them. “This is part of your plan.”

“My brother’s plan.” Khan nodded.

“I need to know.” She took a ragged breath, her chest rising
and falling. “According to this plan of yours, will I?” She gazed at his neck,
her head bowed, his reckless female uncharacteristically hesitant. “Will I be hurt?”

His heart twisted. “Never.” Khan cupped her chin, raising
her gaze to meet his. “I’d never allow you to be hurt, Zeta. You are my
gerel
,
my light, the only female who will ever satisfy me. Without you, my future
would be meaningless.” He brushed his thumb over her trembling bottom lip,
reveling in her softness. “You may not need me but I need you and I’ll protect
you with my life.”

“I can protect myself.” She turned her face away from him.
“I have to.” She stood and Khan didn’t attempt to stop her, his independent
female requiring space. “Because you’ll leave me.”