The Price of Freedom (20 page)

He reached up with both hands, cupping her breast lightly through the fabric, allowing it to slide back and forth across her nipples until she shivered. The tight tips pressed against his fingers, and she arched her back in the chair.

"Jess…"

He smiled, then pushed the cloth aside. Her breasts were so lovely. Not too large, but full and round, gentle mounds topped with red nipples that cried out for some kind of attention from him. He wouldn't leave them wanting, he vowed.

Leaning forward, he took one of them into his mouth, sucking it deeply. She gasped, and raised one had to cup his head. He ignored her, moving back slowly until her nipple was free. She whimpered a protest, but before she could do more, he started on the other nipple. Back and forth he went, sucking deeply one time, flicking lightly with his tongue the next. She was whimpering more and more, her lower body twisting in the chair. The time had come to move to the next level, he thought with satisfaction.

Soon she would be screaming for him.

Careful not to break the sensual spell that had come over them, he trailed one finger down across her stomach, pausing only briefly at her navel, then slid it beneath the loose waistband of the silky pants that matched her top. She had loved this particular outfit immediately, he remembered with a smile. It was sensual and modern, but also similar to what she had worn most her life. The pants were full, almost as full as a skirt, and they flowed around her as she walked like a bright river. She had laughed at herself when she'd first seen herself wearing them in a mirror, but she looked beautiful.

The ache in his cock grew stronger; a damp spot appeared between her legs. She wanted him almost as much as he wanted her, he though in satisfaction. For one second he was tempted to simply rip the pants off and pull her down.

No.

This was about giving her pleasure, showing her how much she meant to him, he reminded himself.

Beside that, she would be upset if he ripped the pants, he thought with a grin. No matter that a thousand other women owned pants just like them, they were precious to her.

Instead, he allowed his fingers to reach down past the elastic, pulling it lower as he went. There it was, the forest of dark brown curls that marked her most private place. He touched her there, fingers growing damp as her moisture washed over him. There was her clit, a tiny piece of flesh that had the power to give so much pleasure that the world was hardly big enough to contain it. He rubbed one finger against it, feeling the slick flesh glide smoothly over the rough skin of his finger. Above him, she shivered.

Oh, she liked that all right.

He rubbed it again, this time pressing still lower between her legs, finding the folds of her labia and nudging them apart. Instinctively, her legs parted for him, giving him greater access. He dropped his head to her stomach, kissing it softly and trailing his tongue into the small indentation that marked its center. He slid his fingers into her body, resting his cheek against her stomach for a moment as the sheer need to be inside her nearly overwhelmed him. He froze, willing his unruly cock to behave. This was about her, not him.

When he felt like he was back in command of his own senses, he slid the finger in again, allowing a second digit to join it. Tenderly, he rubbed back and forth, moving in and out of her body with great care, as if she were some rare and precious porcelain he was afraid of breaking. The image brought a smile to his face. She was rare and precious, but she wouldn't break. Not easily, he knew that for certain.

How many women could have survived what she had, and with such courage?

He kissed her again, and then he trailed more kisses down her belly. He pulled his hand out from her pants, allowing the waistband to slide back up, then kissed down over the soft fabric. She shivered, and then he was at the spot between her legs where his fingers had teased her just seconds earlier. He pressed forward with his tongue, clearly outlining her clitoris through the silk, and she gasped.

"Jess, you're going to kill me," she whispered.

He didn't reply, stiffening his tongue and centering it on her clit instead. She twisted against him so he brought both hands up to her hips to steady her. He wasn't going to let anything interfere with her pleasure, not now. Not when she was so close.

Inhaling her scent deeply, he set back to work on her clit. At first the fabric between them seemed a barrier, but as it grew wetter, it provided a delicious friction between them. Every tiny, perfect strand of silk massaged her clit as he moved. She bucked against him, silently begging him for more.

He renewed his efforts, determined to bring her to orgasm with only his tongue. He stabbed her with it again and again until her hands gripped the back of his head, pulling him closer to her body. She was shaking and gasping; she had to be close. Now to bring her over the edge.

Without warning, he let go of her hips and reached down under her legs. He pulled her lower body forward off the chair, slinging her legs over his shoulders and grinding her clit into his face. She gave out a low moan as he sucked her clit, still encased in the fabric, deeply into his mouth. Her hips heaved against him violently. He sucked again, working her with his tongue and rubbing his nose against her mound. She twisted, then exploded in his arms with a gutteral cry

He could feel the orgasm in her legs as they stiffened and clenched his head. He could feel it in the moisture that flooded his mouth, too, so much that it easily saturated the silk and filled his mouth. He continued sucking her, more gently now, as the waves of pleasure washed over her and she slowly relaxed. Then he eased her legs back over his shoulders and lowered her to the chair.

Putting his arms back around her waist, he cuddled against her, enjoying the rushing of her blood and the pounding of her heart beneath his ear. It was a beautiful thing to hold his woman, he thought to himself. A beautiful thing indeed.

After a few moments she leaned forward, kissing him gently on the head.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Without pausing to think, he spoke. "Bethany, I love you," he said. "I don't want to fight with you, I only want to be with you and share pleasure with you."

She grew still.

"I love you, too, Jess," she said quietly. "I've loved you for a long time, I think."

"Thank you," he whispered. He took a deep breath, then lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she cuddled into him. He loved it when she held him like that. It made him feel so strong, as if she depended on him for everything.

As if she would never leave him.

He lay her down on the bed, following her down and kissing her long and slow. This time it would be for both of them. He dropped his hand between her legs, and she whimpered. She bucked against him, pushing his lower body back. He pulled his hips away, confused at first. Comprehension dawned as she used the extra space to slither out of her pants. Then she wrapped both legs up and around his waist.

He tore his lips free of hers, and they both gasped for air.

"Jess, let me this time," she said. He nodded, and together they rolled to the center of the bed. Now Bethany was on top of him, straddling him. He reached up and slid the fabric off her shoulders. Her breasts heaved as she drew her breath in. Her face was soft, then a little smile stole across it. A wicked gleam came into her eyes and without warning her fingers dug into his side, tickling him viciously.

He howled, bucking against her body in protest. She simply laughed, and tickled him harder. They wrestled together, fighting for control, and finally she wound up beneath him again. She grinned up at him unrepentantly.

"Why did you do that?" he demanded. She laughed breathlessly.

"Because you were looking just a little bit too smug for your own good."

He shook his head, then leaned down to kiss her. Again she started tickling him, and this time managed to buck him off. He fell to one side, completely surprised by her second attack. She jumped up, kneeling on the bed and laughing at his startled look. Caught in the moment, he laughed back, unable to control himself. She was so adorable. Bethany was his woman—naked, completely free of guile.

He started crawling slowly toward her, and she inched backward.

"Think you can catch me?" she asked archly.

"Oh, I know I can catch you," he replied with a grin. "The only question I have is what I'm going to do with you once I have you. I think you need to be punished."

Her grin faltered. For a moment her lower lip trembled, then she whispered in a frightened voice,

"Jess, please don't hurt me."

Stunned, he stopped and stared in dawning horror.

"Bethany, I would never hurt you," he said softly. She looked deep into his eyes, holding him with her gaze. He didn't even see the pillow until it hit him in the face, knocking him to one side.

"Gotcha," she shrieked, breaking into new peals of laughter. He growled and scrambled after her.

Now she would
really
pay.

He caught her from behind, just as she reached the edge of the bed. He pulled her naked body back against his, shuddering as she came into contact with his aroused cock. Time to show her who was in charge, he thought.

Reaching between them, he loosened his pants and shoved them down. Then he thrust into her wet opening and they both moaned.

"Damn, Jess," she muttered. "You don't do it half way, do you?"

"Nope," he replied. "This is what you get for tricking me like that."

"I guess I've been very bad," she said lightly. She wiggled her butt against him, and he groaned.

"You'd better punish me."

"Witch."

She gave a bright, tinkling laugh and deliberately squeezed him deep inside.

Gripping her waist tightly, he started moving back and forth, roughly delving deep into her body with each motion.

She was hot and slick for him, pushing back against him in a rocking motion that took his breath away. He tried to reach down between them, to touch her clit, but he couldn't quite make it. Fortunately she didn't seem to care or notice; even as he felt a fine sheen of sweat coat his body, he could see the flesh of her back starting to shine. Every part of him seemed centered on the point where they connected.

Her flesh enclosed him time and again, squeezing him until he felt like screaming. The need to let loose in her, to allow his seed to shoot out, was almost painful in its intensity. But he wasn't ready yet; he didn't want to come until she did. This was for both of them, he reminded himself.

She grunted now, little pants of sound that escaped her mouth every time their bodies slapped together. Their movements grew jerkier, every motion a struggle toward that pinnacle that awaited them.

Jess gritted his teeth, holding back the release. Not yet.

Her groans turned into whimpers, then every muscle in her body clenched, including those surrounding his cock. She gave a high-pitched wail, and he lost control. Seed exploded out of him into her body; his fingers clutched her so tightly he knew there would be bruises later. He closed his eyes, threw back his head, and allowed the waves of orgasm to engulf both of them.

Chapter Fourteen

Berengaria Space Port, Three Months Later

Bethany looked at Jess in disgust.

"I can't believe you're doing this," she said. "I have never given you any reason to believe I intend to leave you. For love of the Goddess, I don't even know how to survive on my own. Can't you just trust me for once?"

They were sitting in the living area, having reached their sixth destination. It was a small planet, but one where Jess knew Jenner had friends. Or at least business partners. He'd decided from the first that they'd start with known associates and go from there.

Jess turned his head, refusing to look at her.

"I can't be out there looking for Jenner and worrying about you at the same time," he said, pulling on a boot with quick and rough motions. "This is a strange port, and a dangerous one. If I know you're safe, I'll be safe."

"I'll be safe as long as I stay on the ship, right?" she asked tartly. "But you don't trust me to stay on the ship by myself."

He didn't reply. Instead, he stood and pulled on a jacket made of dark leather he'd purchased it in the last port. His hair was pulled back with another strip of the same leather, tied neatly at his nape. It was quite long now, reaching nearly half way down his back. She watched him thoughtfully, realizing he hadn't cut it since his escape from the mining camp. Was that on purpose; was it part of a disguise? He slipped a knife—the same one he'd used to cut her hair with that fateful day of the rebellion—into a scabbard in his boot and stood. She shivered and hugged herself. He looked quietly menacing, a different man from the Jess who shared her bed and laughed with her.

"You'll be fine here while I'm gone," he said. "There's plenty of food and we're hooked into the planetary 'net. There's enough credit on deposit with the port for you to order anything you need."

"Except my freedom."

"Except that," he said. "But don't worry, if something happens to me they'll come to check on you in three days. I've already made the arrangements."

"Thanks," she said tightly.

"I suppose a kiss goodbye is out of the question?" he asked.

"Good guess," she said, turning away from him.

Bethany fumed as he strode out of the ship. Once again, she was locked into their living quarters.

Once again he had chosen not to trust her, despite the fact that she had done nothing to betray that trust.

She hadn't even considered leaving him, yet he insisted on locking her in like a wayward child.

She stood and walked over to the data terminal, idly flicking on the port information channel. It looked like a horrible place, she thought. Certainly not the kind of place that would tempt anyone bent on escape. Barengaria had only been settled for two centuries, and the air was not yet breathable. The entire population lived in a series of domes, venturing outside only long enough to tend the machinery which ran a string of chemical plants. Some day, in another two or three hundred years, the entire planet would be suitable for farming. Billions of people would have food to eat because of the work being done in this port. But for now, it was still a hell-hole.

She flicked through several more information channels, then took a deep breath. She was feeling sick to her stomach again. Lately it seemed like she was sick all the time, although she'd tried to hide it from Jess. She knew he would worry about her, but she was fine. It was just a little stomach trouble.

Standing carefully, she made her way into the fresher and knelt before the waste unit. Within seconds it came. A flood of vomit rushed out of her, sickening her further with its smell. Usually it stopped with that, but this time it was worse. Her stomach heaved again and again, and resentment for Jess' lack of trust built in her. The stress of being locked up every time they came into port was probably responsible for her illness.

Two hours later she wasn't so sure. She had never felt so sick in her life. She had long run out of anything to vomit, yet the heaves kept coming. Shaking and weak, she stood up and stumbled out into the main room. Time to consult the auto-doc; this was ridiculous.

The complex machine was located in a closet-sized storage area between two of the bedrooms.

Neither of them had used it, although Jess had pointed it out to her not long after they first came onto the ship. Fortunately, it was designed to be simple to operate. There were a series of instructions with pictures detailing how to turn it on. She followed them and was rewarded when the unit blinked to life and a cool voice asked, "How may I help you?"

"I'm feeling sick," she said. "I've been vomiting."

"Please disrobe and seat yourself in the unit for an examination," the voice replied. A panel slid open, revealing a reclining chair/bed. She slid out of her clothing and climbed into it carefully, feeling somewhat intimidated.

As soon as she was seated, the voice spoke again.

"I will now close the panel door and begin the examination," the voice said. "Please lie back and relax. I will need to take several tissue samples. A sleeve will now enclose your right arm, facilitating this."

Before she had time to protest, her arm was wrapped in a metal sleeve. The lights dimmed, and soothing music started to play. She hardly noticed as the panel slid shut, enclosing her fully within the unit.

Her seat reclined back and she noticed a tangy scent in the air. Then she was drifting to sleep. Her last thought was a vague hope that Jess wouldn't come back while she was still in here. He'd probably think she ran away…

* * * * *

Bethany yawned and stretched. Strange, her bed didn't feel like it usually did. There was music playing, too.

"Please remain in the examination chair until you are fully awake," a smooth, emotionless voice said.

Her eyes popped open; she tried to remember where she was. In the auto-doc. She shifted, and felt slight discomfort in several places. What had the damned thing done to her while she was out?

"I have your examination results," the auto-doc said. "All system functions appear to be normal and within regular parameters. Fetal system functions are normal as well."

"Fetal?" she asked, growing suddenly still. "Are you saying I'm pregnant?"

"Pregnancy is confirmed," the machine replied. "Fetus age is estimated at six weeks."

"How is that possible?" she asked. The machine hummed for a second, then spoke again.

"Please refine question."

"How is it that I am pregnant?"

"Pregnancy appears to be the result of sexual intercourse, although further examination would be required to rule out artificial insemination," the machine responded. She burst out laughing.

"I know how people get pregnant," she said after a moment, wiping her eyes. She felt light-headed, out of breath. She raised one hand to her stomach, trying to feel something. Everything was just as it always was. She frowned, trying to remember her last menstrual period. When had it been?

"I had been under the impression that I was infertile," she said finally.

"Nothing in my tests indicates that you have ever been infertile," the auto-doc replied emotionlessly.

"The diagnosis was incorrect."

The diagnosis was incorrect. But how? So many years she and Avram had lived together. He'd had children with his previous wives; why not her?

She sighed, realizing she would probably never have an answer to that question. Moving creakily, she rolled out of the chair and stepped out of the auto-doc.

Pulling on her clothing, everything seemed unreal. She was going to have a baby. Jess' baby. It was so amazing, so beautiful that she felt like crying. She drifted out into the main room, wanting to tell him.

Wanting to tell someone, anyone, about the miracle taking place in her belly.

Unfortunately, she was still completely alone.

Unable to contain herself, she wrapped both arms around her body and whooped, squeezing herself tightly. If only he was here. They would hold each other, talk about the child. Would it be a boy or a girl, she wondered? Would it look like him? She rubbed her stomach again, mind filling with possibilities. This was so much better than anything she could have imagined; they would have a child together. Perhaps more than one. Neither of them had ever had a real family, but they would make one now.

This chasing of Jenner had to end, though. They needed to find a place to live, a way to support themselves. He kept insisting that they had plenty of money, but she wasn't so sure. It couldn't last forever. Beside that, it was one thing to traipse half-way across known space in search of vengeance with only themselves to think of; it was quite another to drag a child around like that. They didn't even have the kinds of supplies they would need for a baby. She wanted a home of some sort, a real home. And a real doctor, she thought darkly. There was no way she wanted that talking closet to examine her baby, let alone deliver it.

She and Jess were going to have a talk when he got back. He needed to choose. He'd get either his revenge or her, not both. She had to get firm with him because it wasn't just about the two of them any more.

* * * * *

Jess stalked across the port, bitter anger seeping from every pore of his body. She had been here.

Just days earlier she'd left; he'd been so close to her that he could still smell her foul, unwashed body with every breath he took. Bitch.

At least he had a good lead, though. There was no way she'd get away from him this time. She was headed to Jezra, and from there to Karos, the Pilgrim homeworld. He had to catch her before she left Jezra, though. Karos crawled with Pilgrims, and the last thing he wanted to do was surround himself with more of those foul snakes.

He caught a shuttle out to the pad where the ship was docked. It had taken him less than a day to track down his information; hopefully Bethany wasn't going to be too angry with him, although he wasn't betting on it. He could understand her feelings; of all people, he knew what it felt like to lose one's freedom. He hated being contained, subject to the will of another. But the thought of her leaving him made his heart clench. She told him she wouldn't do it. She assured him again and again, but he couldn't bring himself to trust her completely. He wanted to, but he couldn't quite do it. If he was wrong, the penalty was simply too high.

The transport latched on to the ship's airlock, and a moment later he stepped inside. There was a slight whooshing noise as it cycled shut, and then he entered the main corridor. It only took a few strides to reach the locked living quarters and open the door. She jumped up, her face glowing and excited. He paused, confused and immediately suspicious. Why was she so happy to see him? Usually she was spitting mad after he'd locked her up.

"Jess," she called, running up to him. She grabbed both of his hands with hers, and squeezed them.

"I have wonderful news, Jess. We're going to have a baby. I'm pregnant."

He froze, completely shocked. Her lovely green eyes, bright with hope and excitement, looked up at him expectantly, and the meaning of her words filtered through his consciousness. They were going to have a baby.

He pulled her close, kissing her. She was laughing, and to his shock he realized moisture was collecting in his eyes. Then he pulled her up into his arms and swung her around, whooping. A baby. A little piece of him and Bethany.

She shrieked with laughter and pounded against him until he set her down, and they leaned against each other breathlessly.

"How long?" he asked.

"The auto-doc says I'm six weeks along," she said. "That gives us plenty of time to find a place to live."

He nodded, mind moving quickly.

"It will only take a few more weeks to track down Jenner," he said. "I've already been thinking about where we should…" His voice trailed off as he realized she had stiffened in his arms.

"Jess, you have to give this up," she said softly.

"What do you mean?"

"You have to give up this hunt you're on," she said. Her eyes searched his anxiously. "We're going to have a child, Jess. Taking care of that child has to be our primary responsibility."

Some of the joy faded as he realized what she was saying.

"Bethany, I know where Jenner is," he said. "She's on her way to Jezra; she only left a few days ago.

All we have to do is go there and get her. Then we'll be free."

"We're free already," she said, shaking her head. "If we keep chasing after her, who knows how much longer it will take."

"Two weeks," he repeated. "All we need is two more weeks."

"You thought she would be here," Bethany countered. "You swore to me that she would be here, that we'd be finished with this by now. You have no way of knowing whether she'll be there or not, do you?"

"If she's not there then she'll be on Karos."

"Karos?" Bethany exclaimed, her tone rising in distress. "That's half way across the Empire. I've been studying, you know. I know where things are. It's also the Pilgrim homeworld. You'll have no way of getting to her there. You'll stick out; they'll catch you immediately. There is no way I'll allow you to take me to Karos"

"You don't allow me to do anything," he said, his emotions twisting and turning so quickly he could hardly keep up. "I'm the one in charge. You do what I say."

She stood back from him, both hands planted on her hips.

"Are you prepared to be a father to this child?" she asked. "Because if you are, then you have no business following some damn stupid quest for revenge. You'll get yourself killed, and then where will we be? Where will
your child
be?"

He shook his head, forcibly restraining himself from reaching out and shaking her. She just didn't understand. He had to find Jenner. He had to make her pay for what she'd done to him, to Calla; if he didn't, she would haunt him forever.

"I see you're more interested in getting your revenge than taking care of your family," Bethany said quietly, her face bleak. She turned and walked away from him. He strode after her, grabbing her arm.

She stiffened, glaring at him until he let her go.