In Heat Read online

  In Heat

  Leigh Wyndfield

  Published 2003

  ISBN 1-931761-80-9

  Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 6280 Crittenden Ave, Indianapolis, Indiana. Copyright © 2003, Leigh Wyndfield. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Liquid Silver Books http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com

  Email: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Ariana Overton

  http://www.celebratingari.com

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  BOOK ONE: SECTOR 12

  CHAPTER ONE THE SAFE HOUSE

  Jax walked through the first level of his security setup, carrying the woman over one shoulder. "Lock," he said, hearing the slam of the reinforced door as the bolt went home.

  He had bought the safe house from an old gunrunner he'd met when he first came to Sector 12, seven years ago. As strong as his security had been, it hadn't been enough for Jax, so he'd added the voice activated doors and the computerized system and cameras.

  Except for the very small foyer, the whole house was underground, with nothing on the walls to hide the rough exposed steel. It was a dark, ugly hole twenty-four hours a day, but Jax hadn't been looking for luxury in his attempt to stay alive.

  "Lock," he said to the next door, then lowered the woman to the floor. He needed his hands to turn another bolt. Four steel rods ran through the portal, clicking into place in the adjoining wall. The foyer and next two rooms served only to put barriers between him and unexpected visitors.

  During his time on Sector 12, he'd amassed enough money selling weapons to unauthorized planets to buy not only this house, but also the woman he picked back up into his arms. They had both cost him about the same amount of decodreams.

  Feeling the fire start deep inside his groin, he broke into a jog. Dammit, he'd cut it close. The once-yearly mating cycle ran through his body like one of Sector 12's sandstorms and he couldn't do anything about it but ride the swirling inferno until it played itself out. He had tried to fight it once, but the consequences were too much for him to contemplate doing it again. The racing agony that coursed through veins, if left unfulfilled, could drive a strong man to take his own life just to stop the pain.

  The third door wasn't voice activated. He opened it using an old fashioned puzzle code. It was time consuming, but if the power went out, as it often did in this remote outpost, he wanted some measure of security that didn't rely on the generator to keep it going.

  Jax watched his red-stained hands shake as he completed the puzzle, moving the last sliding plate into place. He had minutes, seconds, milliseconds before he would be in trouble. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated on opening the door, then shutting it and resetting the code. He activated the motion detectors as well. He had to be careful. For the next twenty-four hours, he would be essentially helpless.

  Shifting the woman to his shoulder, he brought down a simple bar, threading it into the catch. It was the last piece of his security.

  He placed her on the bed as the first wave hit him. It knocked him to his knees, the pain in his groin so intense, he could barely breathe. Alexander must have known his time was close. He'd kept him there for hours, negotiating for the woman. The bastard hadn't budged from his original price, no matter what Jax did to try to induce him to lower it.

  Finally, in desperation, he'd paid it. It had been too late to find another woman anyway. Flying the transport back, he hadn't been sure he would make it to his safe house in time. He'd known his time was almost out.

  When the pain eased, he stood. The woman lay motionless on the bed, still passed out from the drug she'd been given. Alexander said it would wear off soon. He hoped so. God knows, he would soon be so desperate, he'd mate with her even if she was unconscious.

  He stripped her clothes from her body, noting the fine fabric Alexander had dressed his slave in--black pants, tall boots, and a flack jacket. Pilot gear. If she was qualified to fly, it explained why he'd had to pay so much for her.

  His hands shook as he pulled off her tall boots, then her pants and underwear. For a moment, he looked at what he'd bought. She was tall for a woman but not as tall as he was. Men from Jimlee were known for standing above most humanoid peoples in the galaxies. Brown hair cut just below her chin also indicated she was a pilot. It framed her face to show off high cheekbones and full lips. He wondered what color her eyes were.

  The next wave started to build and Jax hurried to take off his own clothing, ripping his shirt in the process. The clothes landed by his feet without another thought. He picked her up again and threw back the blankets.

  While he'd upgraded the security, he'd left the rest of the house alone, only buying a new bed and bedding. The old gunrunner hadn't been big on cleanliness and the smell of sour body hadn't aired out of the old mattress. Jax had his limits.

  He hadn't gotten around to upgrading the old heater. Nights in the desert got very, very cold. Sector 12 was one of thirteen unlucky planets in the Danthium quadrant of Galaxy Grid 219. Translated, he lived on the edge of nowhere on a planet so insignificant, it didn't even get a real name.

  Placing her down on the bed, he lay beside her. Pulling up the blankets, he turned and gathered the woman into his arms.

  Safe. For now.

  He breathed in her scent, the press of her naked body easing the growing pressure of the mating time.

  It would be twenty-four hours of hell for both of them. He would not be able to stop mating with her, even after she was exhausted. No matter how much he fought this, each year it was the same. If he'd known what he would face when they had banished him from Jimlee, he wouldn't have left without a fight. It was pure irony that he had become exactly what they had accused him of being seven years ago.

  For all this time, he had faced this mating ritual in a place three galaxies away from his home planet. It didn't comfort him that this was the last year before his exile ended. He still had the next twenty-four hours to get through.

  At least he could offer her something tomorrow. He turned her onto her side so he could curl his own larger body around hers. One night of hell would surely be a good exchange for her freedom.

  She smelled like cinnamon, he realized, placing the exotic spice. It calmed him. For a moment, he thought of another time. The boy in his memory smiled at his father before leaning down to smell the spiced drink in his hands. Cinnamon wafted up from the cup. His family had been close once and he still missed his father and brother with a dull ache, even though he knew they hadn't believed him innocent.

  Everything had changed when he was arrested, tried, and convicted, all within a lunar cycle. He'd been exiled before the mating ritual had ever come upon him, so he hadn't been prepared. And without a guide to take him through his first time, he had made a very big mess of it. Every year was a little better than the last, but he knew he and the women he slept with suffered from his inadequacy.

  The worst part of it all was his lack of knowledge.

  One thing he'd learned over the years was to draw out the opening play for as long as he could. He would last several hours without actual intercourse if he concentrated.

  Like now. The second wave receded with the satisfaction he got from touching her.

  He could feel the hormones racing through his body, and knew he had begun to sweat out a p
owerful chemical that would be an aphrodisiac for his mating ritual partner, whoever she might be.

  The woman stirred in his arms with the first sign of waking. Jax buried his nose in her hair and took a deep breath.

  He didn't know how he would explain this to her, but in the end, it wouldn't matter. He would have her.

  At this point, he didn't have any choice.

  He propped his head up on his arm to look down into her face as she woke. Blue-on-blueeyes opened to stare up at him. The irises were a dark cobalt blue, the normally white part of the eyes were aquamarine.

  "Damn," he said. "You're Alterian."

  She blinked, her face still dazed with the drug in her system. "Yes," she said, her voice husky and deep. Jax's stomach clinched painfully at the honeyed sound. "What else would I be?"

  "Alexander didn't say anything about this when I bought you." The lying bastard. Now what in hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't very well take her back. How had she become a slave in the first place? Alterians were wealthy traders. Even if she fell into trouble, her family should have ransomed her back. They tended to be peace-loving until one of their own got into trouble. Then they became extremely vengeful. Her whole extended family could be tracking her down as they spoke.

  "You bought me? From Alexander?" Her eyes narrowed in concentration. She blinked again and seemed to study his face.

  "Yes." He wondered what she saw. Living seven years on Sector 12 had left his face permanently tanned from the harsh sun. His hair had bleached out to the point it was almost white. She seemed puzzled, her brows were drawn down in concentration. He wondered again what Alexander had drugged her with.

  "For how much?"

  "12,000 decodreams."

  Her mouth dropped open in shock, her eyes as wide as they could go. "Shanks! You've been ripped off," she breathed.

  Jax tried to contain it, but couldn't stop the bark of laughter that rolled out. Great big belly laughs followed. He dropped back onto the bed, his whole body shaking. Finally, he rolled his head to meet her gaze again. "He had me in a corner and knew it. He would not budge on the price."

  "He double-did you, I'm afraid." Her voice was an odd mix of off-world slang and the high brow spoken by Alterians. "I'm no slave."

  He didn't say anything to her. He didn't need to. He reached for her right arm and turned it to show her the tattoo instead.

  She gasped. "What did you do with my clothes?"

  "I took them off you."

  She pulled up the blanket to her chin, her face telling him clearly she didn't like his behavior one bit. "You shouldn't have."

  "Slaves," he said, emphasizing the word, "do not get a choice about these kinds of matters."

  "I already told you I'm not a slave."

  "So the tattoo is fake?"

  "Of course. I can wash it off with soap and water." The look on his face must have told her he didn't believe it, because she added, "Why would I lie? In two minutes, I'd only be proven wrong."

  "And the papers are fake also?"

  That seemed to get her attention. "You have papers?"

  "I didn't buy you outside the system, girl."

  "Waverly."

  "What?" Jax felt the next wave coming, the heat building in his groin and radiating out. He needed to pull her close and hold her, touch her body with his lips and hands.

  "That's my name. Waverly."

  Jax sucked in a breath and shut his eyes. "Damn."

  "What's wrong?" she asked, her hand going to his forehead, like a Healer checking for a fever. He grabbed her and pulled her tight against his body. "What are you doing?" Her voice held a thread of panic.

  "Shh," he said, rocking her slightly. "I have to touch you." Another wave of pheromones chemicals raced through him. He could smell them now, the musky scent of the hormones filling the room. "I'm at the peak of the mating cycle."

  "So you're in heat?"

  He felt insulted despite the gravity of the situation. "Only women go into heat." The tension eased with the feel of her body next to him.

  "It's the same thing in concept isn't it? I mean, except for the fact you aren't fertile?"

  Jax dug a hand in her hair and pulled her closer. He didn't correct her. Technically, he was fertile now. Jimlee men could only impregnate their women during this ritual. It was one of the reasons their race had such a low birthrate and children were so prized. Unlike most other humanoids, it was the man, not the woman, who slowed the population growth. "I suppose it is. I hadn't thought about it."

  "What's your name?"

  "Jax," he murmured. The smell of cinnamon filled the air, stronger now. He breathed in deeply.

  "Well Jax, we're in a little bit of trouble here, I'm afraid."

  "Why is that?" Jax let himself touch her shoulder. His own skin felt like sandpaper against the soft, soft feel of hers.

  "Because I'm in heat Jax, and if what you're saying is true, you are too."

  His gaze snapped to hers. "What are you telling me?"

  "We're in trouble. I need to leave here. Before it's too late."

  "It's already too late."

  She opened her mouth to explain herself but he stopped her. "You can't leave." He didn't want to hear what she had to say. In the end, it wouldn't matter anyway. Maybe it would be better not to know. "Tomorrow. Make it until tomorrow and you can walk away." He ran his hand down her arm. "I'll sign your papers and you'll be a free-slave."

  "That's great, considering I'm not a slave." She sighed and closed her eyes. "Don't touch me, Jax."

  "I have to. If I don't touch, everything gets worse. If I touch, I can hold off for a few more hours."

  Her eyes opened as if an idea just hit her. "Are you telling me you're willing to pay 12,000 decodreams for one night with me?"

  "Yes." He fought it for a few moments, then ducked his head to kiss her shoulder lightly.

  She made a small humming sound. Jax felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the noise.

  "Why..." she closed her eyes again and took a deep breath, "Why aren't you back on your home planet? Shouldn't you be with your own people for this?"

  He didn't answer that. It would be a long conversation and he couldn't take the time, nor did he really want to tell her the answer. Instead, he asked his own questions. "As an Alterian, don't you think it's odd you're a slave? Why didn't your people ransom you back?"

  "Maybe because I'm not a slave?" she asked, then hissed when his tongue ran across her collar bone. "Stop. This is a really bad idea."

  "I can't stop. In 24 hours it will be over and we'll both be free." He pulled her closer, holding her still. "Your people may come for you, whether you're a slave or not."

  "No. They won't."

  There was something about the tone in her voice. He believed her. Odd, he thought, her family should be searching for her. Then the heat built higher and his mind could no longer focus. "The next wave will start soon."

  She tensed, then began to relax in his arms. "You smell like no other man I've ever smelled before."

  "And you smell like cinnamon." Jax turned her on her side and tucked his legs behind hers. "Waverly, if it's true you're not a slave, why do you have the mark on your arm?"

  She glanced at it. Fourteen numbers ran up the under side of her right wrist. "Alexander, Deek and I were running a scam with the Junkeaters. I posed as a slave, right down to the forged papers with Alexander as my owner. When I got in this morning, I started feeling strange mid-way through breakfast. Next thing I know, I'm waking up naked in bed with you."

  With her body resting alongside his, Jax felt almost content. He knew he had only minutes until the next wave came. He could feel it building. "You must be insane to do business with the Junkeaters. Those bastards will double-cross you at every turn."

  "They didn't this time. They paid up on the spot."

  "In exchange for what?"

  She didn't answer at first, so he ran his thumb down over the numbers on her arm. They didn't feel raised as a ta
ttoo would.

  "Are your hands always red?" she asked instead.

  "No," he said, comparing the color of his hands to her white skin. "It tells the men of my race that the mating ritual is upon them. By tomorrow, my hands will be back to normal."

  "How long does it take for them to get this color?"

  "Two months."

  "Two months?" She rolled over to face him. "And you bought me today? That's cutting it a little close, don't you think?"

  "I had a delivery I needed to make. It took me longer than it should have." Even to his own ears, the excuse fell flat. He had waited too late.

  "Not much of a planner, are you?"

  Jax stared into her blue-on-blue eyes and realized she was teasing him. He hadn't had a woman do that for seven years. Sector 12 didn't have many females in general, and his reputation was bad enough that the ones here didn't have anything to do with him unless he came with decodreams.

  Jax growled at her and nipped her shoulder with his teeth. "I ended up with you, didn't I?"

  "You paid 12,000 decodreams for a slave who isn't even a slave. Alexander ripped you off."

  Jax's arms tightened on her convulsively. "Talk time is over, girl. The next wave is on us."

  "What am I doing?" She sounded as if she talked to herself. "I've got to get out of here." She moved to leave the bed, forcing him to roll on top of her to keep her still, their naked bodies pressed tightly together.

  "You can't leave. Don't fight me or you'll speed it up. Believe me. You don't want to do that."

  She raised her head off the mattress. "Jax," she said. "Listen to me. I'm having my own set of issues here. I need to leave or I won't be able to control my behavior."

  "You cannot leave." He made sure he put as much conviction as he possibly could into the statement. She must stay with him.

  She sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment, then opened them and lifted her head to run her tongue along his lower lip.