“Come inside.”

  Before she knew what she was doing, Jerry bent her head and pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss. No matter how hard she tried, she could not get enough of this woman. Arloa hummed but broke the embrace as if she didn’t want Jerry to touch her, and Jerry supposed she should have asked for permission like she normally did. She was becoming far too familiar with Arloa if that was happening.

  “I need help.”

  “So you said. Come inside, please.”

  Jerry frowned but followed Arloa inside. Perhaps her change of tune hadn’t been emotional but rather due to the fact they were standing in the hall where all the rich aristocrats could see them and could see how Jerry absolutely didn’t fit in their world.

  “I like your new jacket.”

  “Thanks.” Jerry’s voice was low as she pulled off her top hat, hanging it on the rack by the door. She opted to leave her jacket on, not wanting this to be a long visit.

  Arloa moved to the stiff couch and sat down, pouring a cup of tea for herself. Jerry noted there was no second cup, so she was not invited to that party. Walking to the short sofa, Jerry lowered herself onto it, trying to act as normal as possible.

  “What do you need help with, Jeraldine?”

  Arloa’s tone stung slightly, but Jerry had been quite closed off with her in general, not wanting to deepen their relationship beyond what it was already. Bypassing a deeper conversation, Jerry focused on why she was there. “I need help finding my ship.”

  Arloa gave her a wry smile right before she sipped her steaming tea. “You’ll have to remind me why I should help you.”

  This was likely the most they had talked in Arloa’s small apartment. Usually, when Jerry had been here before, it was for other reasons, minus the one time Arloa had brought her in for healing. Jerry straightened her shoulders. “In full honestly, you probably shouldn’t know.”

  That must have gotten Arloa’s attention, because her shoulders stiffened and she sent Jerry a curious look, imploring her to say more. They fell into a silence, Arloa setting her cup down before she straightened her back again and clearly waited for Jerry to continue.

  “I’m a pirate, Arloa. The things I do aren’t exactly legal, and you’re with the government. Set out to find me and stop me.”

  Arloa’s lips twitched. “Find you I did.”

  “But you didn’t stop me. In fact, a few months ago, you sent me on a mission.”

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Arloa’s voice was gravelly as if she hadn’t slept much. “I want you to give up this quest to find Yarrow.”

  “I know you do, but I don’t think you understand why I can’t.”

  “Then tell me.” Arloa was back to drinking her tea.

  Jerry’s stomach was a ball of knots. She had practiced so many times in her head how she was going to make this ask, but she wasn’t coming up with those words now. Not to mention, the lack of drugs in her system was making it difficult to think. Grinding her teeth, she tried to find words that would convince Arloa to help her.

  Instead, she went with her gut and the truth. “Yarrow is my only home. I never had a home when I was a kid. We moved—my mom and I—moved often, wherever her work took her.”

  “Her work of using her body,” Arloa supplied.

  Surprised Arloa had figured that one out, Jerry nodded. “Yes. We would stay with Miriam sometimes, but more often than not, Mother preferred to be on ships as the only whore on board. It meant she got more of the credits in the long run.”

  “Sound business thinking. Create a monopoly.”

  Jerry gave a half smile. Arloa would turn that into a positive and have it make sense. “Yeah, I guess, but when I bought Yarrow after being in Joab for two years, I was ready to have a home, a place to be who I wanted to be.”

  “You can do that anywhere, Jer.”

  The tender way Arloa said her nickname gave Jerry some hope that this had been the right tack to take. “Sure, but Yarrow is where I want to do it.”

  Arloa eyed her over the rim of her teacup before settling it on the small table off to the side of the small sofa. “I understand this is your stand.”

  “My stand?” Jerry furrowed her brow.

  “Yes. You want to prove to him and perhaps to yourself that you’re not weak. It’s revenge.”

  “Sure, in some ways, but—”

  Arloa interrupted her. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to go after him.”

  “I don’t think you get a choice in that matter.”

  “I don’t.” Arloa nodded. “You won’t give me one, so I’m left with the choice to either help you find him swiftly or let you spin in your boots, so to say.”

  Jerry was confused. Was Arloa going to help her or not? She wanted to know. “Arloa…”

  “I’m not done yet.” Arloa cut her hand across the air. “What do you think of when you think of me?”

  “What?” Jerry’s stomach twisted hard, cold washing through her. She hadn’t known this conversation would take this turn, and she wasn’t sure she wanted it to either. She’d done her damned best to avoid making any declarations of who they were to each other.

  “I understand you’re a pirate, Jeraldine Adelric. I even understand you have a checkered past.”

  “Where are you going with this?”

  Arloa let out a little puff of air, her lips thinning as frustration took over her. “Stop speaking and you might hear.”

  Thoroughly chastised, Jerry waited for Arloa to continue.

  “I know who you are, Jer.” Arloa leaned in, pressing her small hand to Jerry’s thigh. Warmth seeped into her bones, heating her, electrifying her. When Jerry raised her gaze, Arloa stared directly into her, as if she could read every thought and feeling she had, even if she couldn’t name it herself. “I know who you are, and I still want you.”

  “That’s a bad idea.”

  “We need to talk about this.”

  “I don’t want to.” Jerry couldn’t stop herself from leaning in, their mouths nearly brushing. She would win this battle as much as she would the next. “It doesn’t matter in the end. It’ll never work out.”

  “You don’t know that.” Arloa moved her hand up to Jerry’s cheek, caressing her.

  Jerry leaned into the soft touch. Arloa did always have a way with gentleness that she’d never managed to attain. Closing her eyes, Jerry listened to the steady thrum of her heart, her stomach twirling in discomfort, and the call for blood in her veins.

  “I do know that, Arloa. I’m infected with the virus. I’m nothing in Raegina, and you hold all the power. I’m an unsightly creature, and you are a beautiful woman, someone people look up to, someone who can and will make a difference. It will never work the way you want it to.”

  “We’ll never know if we don’t try. You seemed willing to try once, all those months ago.”

  Tears stung Jerry’s eyes, and she hated that she couldn’t control herself. She used to be so good at it, but since the virus had taken over her, she’d had to find a new method of managing that, one she’d yet to grasp. “I was willing to fuck you. That’s all.”

  “Are you sure?” Arloa’s voice was barely above a whisper, and this time when their lips brushed, Jerry was filled with warmth and not regret. “I don’t think you are.”

  “Arloa…” Jerry trailed off.

  “I know we have our battles to face where it concerns a relationship, but I’m willing to take that stand. Are you?”

  Jerry didn’t have an answer. She wanted to have one. She wanted to be able to say yes, but there were too many barriers holding her back. “I’m going to die, and it’s not going to be a pleasant death.”

  “Then live while you can.”

  Jerry swallowed the lump in her throat, wanting and needing to be able to take that step, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t open her heart the way Arloa was asking. Not yet. Instead, Jerry surged forward and pressed their mouths together in a brutal kiss. Arloa sucked in a breath, threading her fingers into Jerry’s matted hair and holding her tight. She may be a small woman, but she was strong—not just physically but emotionally, mentally.

  She nipped Arloa’s lower lip and cupped both sides of her cheeks, keeping her in place. She didn’t want to stop. This hadn’t been what she’d come looking for—or at least, what she had told herself she was looking for. Arloa moved up, leaning on the sofa with a knee and pulling Jerry down to cover her—their mouths never leaving each other.

  Arloa parted the sides of Jerry’s jacket, reaching forward to pull at the leather ties to the new tunic Jerry had purchased. She’d purposely chosen not to buy a corset even though it was proper dress for a woman. She wasn’t going to waste her money of those things anymore, and when Arloa had free and easy access to her body, Jerry knew she’d made a perfect choice.

  Raising her hips up, Jerry shifted and tugged Arloa so she was fully on top of her. “What are we doing?”

  “Anything you want,” Arloa replied. “And yes, Jer, I will help you find your home.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. Jerry ran her hands up and down Arloa’s back, into her hair and kissed her hard. “How much time do we have?”

  “An hour, until the second morning bell.”

  “Perfect.” Jerry reached around Arloa’s back and tugged hard at the ties of her corset until she could squeeze her hands in there. She wanted skin against skin this time, she wanted everything to be the way they’d done it the first time—almost. Jerry did as much untying and undressing as possible as Arloa lay prone on top of her, putting small kisses against Jerry’s neck and the top of her chest.

  Arloa swirled her tongue, finally reaching Jerry’s small breast and her nipple. She’d once told Arloa she hated how she looked naked as she awkwardly had stood awkwardly in front of her, and this woman had managed to make her feel beautiful in every moment since they’d met. Jerry had never had a doubt that they were physically attracted to each other.

  As soon as they were both undressed, clothes in a pile on the floor next to the sofa, Arloa raised up on her knees, her breasts hanging and swaying as she sent Jerry a saucy grin. She bent down, pressing one kiss and a bite to the top of Jerry’s breast before making a pathway down to the tops of Jerry’s thighs.

  Jerry parted her legs, anticipating Arloa’s direction. Sure enough, Arloa’s mouth reached her clit. Instantly, Jerry fell into the sensation of Arloa against her, of pleasure soaring through her. She reached over her head to hold onto the arm of the sofa and keep herself in place as Arloa continued to touch her. One finger, and then two, and Jerry’s mind warred between Arloa’s ministrations and the need for her brain to steady herself into normalcy.

  “Arloa, I don’t know if I can do this,” Jerry murmured. She didn’t mean sex. She meant the fact that she was crashing hard from lack of drugs in her system, and she was liable to turn into a raging addict at any moment.

  Arloa stopped, moving to look up at Jerry. She must have realized what was going on, because she covered Jerry’s body again, sliding against her and whispering, “Hold on. Feel my touch. Hear my voice. Use me to center yourself.”

  Jerry’s heart hammered, thumping too hard for what they were no longer doing. Her brain spun, as if dizzy while lying down. She tried to do what Arloa was telling her, tried to focus on her sweet voice, the commands she was giving, the sensation of skin on skin. Arloa soothed fingers all over Jerry’s torso, pulling her mind from the chaos it was slipping toward, right back into the moment.

  When Jerry opened her eyes again, she knew she had control. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” Arloa’s lips quirked into a smile before she shifted down Jerry’s body and picked up right where she left off—latched to Jerry’s clit.

  It took Jerry a minute to find the level of pleasure she was searching for, but when she found it, she was ready to go. She curled her fingers into Arloa’s hair, scraping her nails against Arloa’s scalp. Raising her knees up, she rocked her hips into Arloa’s mouth and rode each wave of pleasure as it crashed through her. Her entire mind was void of the need for drugs and focused entirely on the woman between her legs and the teasing of her body higher and longer into pleasure.

  When Jerry finally relaxed, Arloa covered her again, kissing her way up Jerry’s body to her mouth, her lips. Arloa buried her face in Jerry’s neck and drew in slow, deep breaths. “Let me comb out your hair.”

  Jerry snorted. “Sure, if I can fuck you while you do that.”

  “Challenge accepted.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Jerry sat in her small cabin, worrying her bottom lip. She’d managed to find some semblance of control for a few hours, but after she left Arloa’s apartment in the innermost part of the city, she’d felt it slipping. They had to find a solution. The crew on board Calluna was already going wild, especially her crew.

  Out of options, Jerry shoved herself upward, swaying when the lack of hormones in her body hit her harder than she expected. There was limited time to deal with this problem. Jerry didn’t stop by Ursula’s cabin, not wanting to let her in on what was happening. Instead, she strode straight to Yafe’s. Knocking as she pushed open the door, Jerry stepped inside to find the room dark.

  Azar snored loudly from the cot along the far wall, and Yafe stared at her with wide eyes from a sitting position from the other. Jerry put her hands on her hips and wrinkled her nose. “We’ve got a problem.”

  “I know, Cap. It would have been better to be left on that island.”

  “Took the damn words right out of my mouth.” Jerry’s fingers itched. She wanted to hit someone, feel the flesh as it resisted, the snap of bone as she broke it. She had to do something to get the desire out of her.

  Yafe stood up, the picture of control so far, but Jerry could tell from her wild eyes how on edge she was. They would make the perfect team for this. Jerking her head toward the cabin door, Jerry stepped outside. As soon as Yafe followed, Jerry pressed her smaller frame against the wall, pinning her.

  “We’re going to have to do it,” Yafe whispered, her pupils fully dilated.

  “I know,” Jerry sighed. “But it doesn’t mean I want to.”

  “Do the others know?”

  “I don’t think so.” Jerry used the cold temperature of the wall to center herself. She had to keep herself controlled, as much as was humanly possible. “I don’t know how it’s gotten past them.”

  “They haven’t been in as dire need as we have.”

  Except Jerry had suspected this was a solution well before they were marooned. It happened the night she’d found Sacha. Hints the universe had dropped in her lap so many times that when they’d been stuck on the damnable island, she hadn’t been able to deny it any longer. And she would have gladly killed Sacha and the others if it had meant her survival. The virus had taken her over, and as much as she had contemplated ending it all before, once she’d been fully ensconced with the virus raging through her and nothing combatting it, she’d known exactly how she would die.

  Fight.

  “The bar?” Jerry questioned.

  Yafe bit her lip. “It’s the middle of the day.”

  “I don’t know where else to go.”

  “We need someone who won’t be missed.”

  Jerry cocked her head to the side. “None of us will be missed.”

  “True,” Yafe dragged out the word. “Well, I would miss you, and I have a feeling she would miss you.”

  Jerry snorted loudly. “She has no idea what she’s in for with me.”

  “I think she knows better than you think she does.”

  “Yafe, this isn’t the time—”

  “I know,” Yafe whispered again. “We should do it under the cover of dark.”

  Jerry flitted her gaze up and down the small corridor, looking to see if anyone was listening in. When she glanced back at Yafe, she cursed under her breath. Paranoia had already started to set it. “We can’t wait. Come on.”

  Jerry grabbed Yafe by the wrists and dragged her toward the main door of the ship. She supposed it was to her benefit that Ursula had lost her contract with Morty because they hadn’t been traveling when it hit them. Jerry checked her knives at her waist and her wrists as she hit her palm against the sensor to lower the door.

  “You do have weapons, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jerry knew Yafe preferred to avoid weapons if she could, but she did typically carry them on her person. Jerry had sharpened the knife she’d had on the island and slid it back into its place along her ankle, making sure she’d never lose that reminder of what they’d once been.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  They were on the dock in seconds, then the pier. Yafe wasn’t that far behind her, keeping pace. Jerry tilted her head down but kept her gaze up so that she could see anyone who they might come close to. It took until they were one street inland before they found a single soul.

  “Too stinky,” Jerry muttered, either to herself or Yafe, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t really care either. She just wanted something to make her sane again.

  They walked further into the city. The cobblestones became newer as they approached the center. They would be insane to try and find someone to kill just on the inside of the city, someone who was rich, whose absence would start an uproar if they were to go missing. They walked through the main gate.

  Jerry’s heart thundered, but not from worry about what might happen if they were caught, from the need she couldn’t satiate. Jerry dashed her tongue across her lips, remembering the flavor of Damon. He had been gristly, which she hadn’t particularly appreciated, but she knew all brains didn’t taste like that.

  “What about her?” Yafe’s eyes locked on a young woman who stepped through a gate.

  Jerry followed her gaze, her heart skipping a beat. She had blonde curls in waves, falling for ages down her back as she let them loose. Her shoulders were squared, but she kept her head held high. They were right on the edge of town. It would be reasonable enough to assume that someone might go missing there.

  “She’ll be perfect.” Jerry hadn’t wanted to wait too much longer.

 

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