Seeing Stars

  She licked her own mouth, her knees weak and stomach knotted with arousal. Her body had no problems with the man on his knees before her. If only her stupid brain would cease its endless musings.

  She stepped away from him. His prick had filled the front of his briefs, at least she could see that. His cheeks had flushed, too, as well as the smooth column of his throat.

  “Take off your briefs.” She’d tried to sound confidant, but it came out sounding like a plea.

  Jarden stood, up and up, and thumbed his toss-aways down muscular thighs. He stepped out of them and stood in front of her, his hips pushed slightly forward. His penis thickened, getting straighter as she watched, but he didn’t touch himself.

  He was waiting for her to tell him what to do.

  “What do you think about to get yourself hard?” The question slipped out before she knew it, and, once spoken, it was too late to take it back.

  If he’d smiled, she would have sent him from the room at once, but Jarden only licked his mouth again. “Tasting you got me hard, miss.”

  “Do I…taste good?” Oh, the question was difficult to say, but impossible not to ask.

  Jarden nodded. His fingers flexed, as though he meant to touch his cock, but he kept his hands at his sides. Waiting for permission, she realized, and the thought sent bolts of pleasure straight to her clit.

  Her fingers went to the stick-seam at her throat. She eased it apart, micron by micron, and folded open the flimsy material. The cool air drifted across her breasts, peaking her nipples into tighter, throbbing points. Between her legs, she was a furnace. Each time she shifted, Milla could feel the slickness coating her there. Could feel the swollen folds of her pussy and the hard bump of her clitoris under which her heartbeat pulsed.

  Jarden’s gaze took her in from face to feet. His eyes lingered on her breasts and between her legs, but when he looked up again, he looked into her eyes. His mouth parted and his tongue crept out again to touch the middle of his bottom lip.

  “Do you like what you do?” Her voice rasped, but Jarden didn’t seem to have trouble understanding her. He nodded. His hips pushed forward just a bit more.

  “I love it,” he said, and she believed him.

  For that moment, anyway, she allowed herself to believe him. She took a step back, toward the bed. She shrugged off her toss-away and left it on the floor without a second glance. She lay on the bed and motioned to Jared, who moved toward her with swift grace.

  He covered her body with his and sought the sensitive skin of her throat again. Her legs were already opening for him, her hands reaching between them to guide his prick inside her. When Jarden pushed his cock into her, Milla groaned and lifted her hips to ease the angle. He slid in all the way to his balls in one, smooth thrust.

  “Fuck me,” Milla said. “Hard.”

  Jarden shuddered against her neck. His mouth worked. “Anything you want.”

  Her hands found his muscled ass and held tight. “I want it. Right now. Fuck me until I scream, Jarden.”

  She should have felt silly saying it, but the words tasted right. They fit. She did want to scream, she wanted to come, she wanted him to fuck her so hard she saw stars.

  Jarden moved. His hips pumped. The first few thrusts were ragged, but smoothed quickly. Another thrust, and he reached beneath Milla’s ass to lift and shift her so their bodies aligned in a slightly different position. Now his pelvis hit her clit with every thrust.

  “Perfect,” Milla gasped.

  “Fuck,” Jared muttered against her ear. “You’re so wet.”

  He sounded a little surprised, but she couldn’t focus on that. Milla could only concentrate on the way his cock filled her, the way his body pressed her clit with each movement. The pressure of his teeth on her shoulder. She tensed, waiting for the bite, but it didn’t come, until she whispered hoarsely, “Yes. Do it.”

  The pain when he bit her was slight and only made the pleasure greater. Jared licked the spot he’d bitten the moment before. Then he fastened his mouth to the side of her neck and his tongue swept her skin the same way he’d used it to lick her clit.

  Milla cried out. She closed her eyes, waiting for the stars, but saw only blackness. Her nails raked down Jarden’s back as she hooked her heels around the backs of his upper thighs and pushed against his ass, harder. Faster.

  “Harder,” she demanded, and he obliged.

  Milla tensed as her climax built but didn’t crash over her. She strained for it, reaching for the elusive pleasure with every muscle. She moaned, arching.

  “Anything,” Jarden breathed, a reminder.

  She didn’t know what to ask for, how to articulate what her body needed. She hovered on the edge of coming, but couldn’t quite get there. She let out a small, sobbing breath of frustration. Flames of desire licked her every nerve, but it wasn’t enough.

  It was never enough.

  Even here with a man she paid to do whatever she wanted, she couldn’t come.

  Jarden’s thrusts slowed, ragged again. He paused, finally, resting on his forearms and lifting his head to look at her. Milla looked away, refusing to give him her eyes. Jarden moved inside her, but not even the Arous-All could keep her from going cold.

  “Miss?”

  “Finish.” She forced the sound of disdain. “I’m getting bored.”

  Jarden stopped moving inside her. She looked at him then. “I said, finish. I want to be done.”

  He gave a minute shake of his head. “You’re not finished, miss.”

  Shame sent bile lurching to her throat. She was a failure. Again. Always. She pushed at his chest. “Get off me.”

  He didn’t. So much for giving her anything she wanted. Jarden pushed inside her a little deeper and stayed there, but Milla unhooked her heels from behind his thighs and gave him no encouragement to move.

  “You didn’t come,” Jarden told her. He licked his mouth again. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want you to get off me,” Milla said putting as much chill in her voice as she could. “Now.”

  Jarden withdrew. The air in the cabin had been refreshingly cool earlier, but now felt too cold. Naked, Milla shivered. She drew herself up to sit against the headboard as soon as Jarden withdrew. She curled her arms around her knees.

  “You can go,” she said. “I’ll use my extra cred-time with someone else.”

  She didn’t miss Jarden’s blink or the way his mouth thinned, but he turned from her in a moment, so all she could see was the line of his back and shoulders.

  “I’m sorry you weren’t satisfied,” he said, but didn’t sound sorry. He sounded annoyed.

  She hadn’t been able to forget he was a man, a person, not a ’bot, but the tone of his voice reminded her even more why she’d wanted to fuck a thing made of plastic and metal instead of flesh and bone.

  “Just get out,” she told him.

  Jarden nodded and stood. He bent to retrieve his toss-away briefs, but the simple fabric had already begun to disintegrate. He tossed them down the disposal chute.

  He lifted a hand to open the cabin door, giving her time to realize, with some surprise, he intended to leave without even dialing for a new toss-away, when the cabin shuddered. The lights flickered and went black for a micron, then came back on. The cabin shuddered again, so hard the small plaz-glass ornamental dildo on the nightstand fell over.

  Jarden put a hand on the wall. It wasn’t the cabin rocking, but the entire ship. Milla cried out as the room shook again. When it stopped, even the infinitesimal shiver she felt in the pit of her belly when the cruiser was in motion had ceased.

  “What was that?” she asked, hating the thin waver in her voice.

  “I don’t know.” Jarden passed his palm over the hand panel, but the door didn’t open.

  “Attention, all passengers,” said a pleasant female voice over the intercom system. “Attention. Pleasure Princess Cruises apologizes for the inconvenience, but we’ve run into some complications. For the safety of our p
assengers, we’ve docked in Newcity airspace until we can assess the situation. This is for your safety and convenience. All passengers are required to stay inside their cabins while the investigative procedures take place. Again, this is for your own safety. I repeat, all passengers are required to stay inside their cabins while the crew of the Pleasure Princess assesses the situation.”

  Milla got out of bed and pulled on a robe more substantial than a toss-away. “What does that mean?”

  Jarden turned, his mouth set in a thin, grim line. “I’m sure it’s just a minor repair job, miss. Pleasure Princess Cruises values the safety and comfort of its passengers.”

  The words came out as though by rote. He passed his palm over the hand panel again, but the door remained locked. Jarden punched a series of numbers on the keypad beneath the hand panel. Still nothing.

  Milla watched him. “You know something you’re not telling me.”

  Jarden didn’t look at her. “Miss, I’m sure this will all be resolved shortly. Why not choose a holo-vid from the extensive complimentary library—”

  “Stop,” she told him. “I know you’re lying to me. I’m not stupid, and you’re not a very good liar.”

  Jarden turned, still naked, and Milla snatched up a pair of unisex sleep pants. She threw them to him and he put them on without looking at her. It was easier to face him when he was dressed.

  “I can be anything you want me to be. Do you want me to be a good liar?”

  Milla frowned. “No. I want you to tell me what’s going on.”

  Jarden crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. There could be something wrong with the engine. These cruisers are old, and the captain of this boat would rather stretch everything on it until it breaks than spring for new. They don’t tell you that in the brochure, I’m sure.”

  She shook her head, eyeing him. “But that’s not why you’re nervous.”

  Jarden flashed her a grin she didn’t believe for a second. “I’m not nervous, miss.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Anything you want.”

  Milla frowned again and turned, pulling her robe tighter around her throat. “Damn it, I wanted a ’bot.”

  “Complain to the captain,” Jarden said. “Maybe if he kept his fuck-crew in better repair, I wouldn’t have to work constant double shifts, and you’d have been able to come.”

  Milla’s mouth dropped and she closed it with an audible snap as she turned to him. “You’re not supposed to give me attitude!”

  Jarden tried the hand panel again. “Pardon me, miss, but I’ve got other things to worry about than being your bitch-boy.”

  “I told you not to call me that!” She glared. “And I knew you were nervous about something!”

  Jarden made a fist and punched the wall softly. “If we docked in Newcity airspace for repairs, that means we’ll be boarded for inspection. Since they rebuilt the dome, Newcity has the strictest regs in this part of the system. That’s why all the passengers have to stay in their cabins. They’ll try to pass it off as a quality control inspection or a satisfaction interview or something, but that’s not what it is. It’s not what they’re looking for.”

  “What are they looking for?”

  “Anything that doesn’t conform to the Newcity Standards.”

  She’d heard of them, a list of requirements for citizenship in Newcity. “But the Pleasure Princess isn’t required to conform to Newcity Standards. I mean, I’m not a Newcitizen. I don’t have to obey their rules.”

  Jarden punched one fist into the other. “No, but any Newcitizen on this boat does. Any Newcitizen not conforming to the Newcity Standards can—and will—be arrested and removed from this ship. R.I.O. will be checking the Pleasurebots too. Making sure they’re up to code.”

  Recreational Intercourse Operatives. Milla had heard of them. “But Pleasurebots aren’t illegal, not even in Newcity.”

  “No,” said Jared. “Pleasurebots aren’t illegal. But I am.”

  The woman stared at him, but Jarden couldn’t care about saying too much. Even if she complained, it didn’t matter. When R.I.O. rapped on the cabin door, he’d be arrested. End of story, and not happily ever after either.

  “I don’t understand,” she said slowly. “You said the Pleasure Princess had exemptions about slaves.”

  Fuck, he wanted a drink. It wasn’t allowed, but he helped himself to the jug of arti-wine from the table anyway. Might was well be screwed for everything as much as one thing.

  “It’s not because of that. There’s no problem with my papers of indenture. Ninety percent of the crew on this ship are indentured anyway.”

  “So…why you?” Milla was her name, and she didn’t want to be called “miss”. She moved closer and he caught a whiff of the remnant of the Arous-All lotion.

  “I’m a mecho.” The words came out without inflection, though each was a barb in his throat. He waited for her to recoil, but Milla only stared at him curiously. “I’m sixty-seven percent artificial components.”

  She shrugged, her face apologetic. “And?”

  “In Newcity I was declared a mecho. Not human.”

  Her lip curled, but not, he realized, with disgust about him. “They still do that?”

  He nodded and finished the glass of arti-wine. It wasn’t very good. It wouldn’t have made him drunk even if his enhanced circulatory and filtration systems had allowed him to become intoxicated.

  “That’s barbaric.” Milla shook her head. “And stupid.”

  Jarden refused to feel grateful for her “enlightened” attitude, even though he’d been expecting derision. “Yeah. But stupid and barbaric is going to land me in a work camp servicing the border patrols or something like that.”

  “I can imagine it wouldn’t be as glamorous,” she said thoughtfully. “But really, isn’t that what you do now?”

  “No.” Jarden had to fight to keep the growl from his voice. “I’m indentured. I work for my passage. When I earn my way and save some capital, I’m off this tub for good. I’m going to get a little place somewhere, a Homestead maybe. I do what I do because I chose it, not because someone decided I’m not fit to live in polite society.”

  She flinched, and he realized he was shouting. She didn’t back away from him, though. Instead, she poured herself a glass of arti-wine and filled his glass again.

  “I’m sorry,” Milla said. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  He could get into a lot of trouble for talking so roughly to a passenger, but somehow Jarden doubted that would matter once R.I.O. boarded the Pleasure Princess. It didn’t stop him from feeling a little bad, though. She hadn’t been nasty on purpose.

  “I have another year of service,” he told her. “I’ve been on here for five.”

  A faint look of surprise crossed her face. When her eyes widened, he could see the bluish-green he’d noticed earlier had darkened.

  “That long?”

  He nodded and took another long drink. “Four years Earthside before that, just to get my passage to the cruiser.”

  Four years of looking over his shoulder, waiting to be arrested. Four years watching the Newcity Ruling Council write and rewrite the Newcity Standards, tightening the stranglehold on anyone who didn’t meet their rigid view of who deserved to be called a Newcitizen.

  “Attention, passengers,” came the voice over the intercom again. “Dinner may be ordered from your servbot. Please remain in your cabins. Complimentary holo-vids are available, as well as a full array of self-stim and virtual orgy products. Headsets and visors may be found in your love cabinet. Simply log on to enjoy.”

  Milla made a face. “Virtual sex. No, thank you.”

  “Is it any different than fucking a ’bot?” Jarden asked and waited for her to flinch again.

  Milla only looked thoughtful. “Oh, much different. ’Bots are real.”

  “They’re not real,” Jarden said. “They’re fake. They don’t care about anything but fucking and being fucked.”
br />   “They don’t make judgments,” Milla said, and looked away from him. “And you don’t have to make them happy.”

  Jarden sat in the plush vibro-chair and finished his second glass of arti-wine. “What makes you happy?”

  She wouldn’t look at him. He watched her sip her wine in silence. He studied the tension in her shoulders and smelled the aphrodisiac lotion she’d used. He smelled her heat, unabated though he’d done everything she asked.

  He’d blamed lack of sleep for his inability to give her an orgasm. His concentration had been divided. But now, watching her fingers curl tighter on the glass, Jarden thought maybe the problem wasn’t that he hadn’t tried hard enough.

  “I wanted a Pleasurebot.” Milla finished her wine and put the empty glass on the table. “’Bots don’t care what you look like. They get hard anyway. Pleasurebots don’t need anything but a warm place to sink their dicks. It doesn’t matter if you have scars.”

  Jarden knew about scars. His had once crisscrossed most of his body. Some from the accident that had damaged his spleen and liver. Most from the multitude of operations he’d sustained to repair the damage left behind by the unskilled surgeons who’d performed the first surgery and left infection and disease behind.

  “Do you have scars?” he asked her.

  She looked at him. “Not anymore.”

  He stood and tugged the waist of the pants she’d given him lower on his hips. He pointed to the place where an eight-foot plaz-glass spike had pierced him. “I was an engineer. I worked on the new dome. After the old one collapsed, they wanted something not prone to zips and tears. I was one of the designers who figured out how to manufacture a new one. There was an accident during the construction. I lost my liver and spleen. That was the first operation.”

  She looked at him, then shook her head. “I don’t see anything.”

  “I paid for expensive surgeries after the first one. I used my entire savings to make sure they didn’t leave marks. I couldn’t afford to have anyone know I’d been fixed. After a while, I couldn’t afford anything.”

  Milla blinked, then cleared her throat. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Jarden shrugged. “I’ll design again. They need engineers on the Homestead planets. If I ever get there.”