Treading Dangerous Ground

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND …He found himself gazing into the younger man’s dark eyes, mere inches away from his own. What he saw there both comforted and frightened him. His reflection was there, of course, but somehow altered by another’s perception. He also saw a longing much like his own, an urgent need that couldn’t be ignored or denied. They both moved at the same instant, two heads angling smoothly into the kiss. It occurred as if carefully choreographed. No noses bumped, and there was no clumsy twisting or shifting to find the right connection. Something deep within each of them knew, responded as if programmed to do so. Balt’s lips were firm and warm, softening slightly as Jayce’s met and meshed with them. Surprise, arousal and delight flashed through Jayce in an instant. This was not part of his dream. He’d dreamed of their naked bodies entangled, of clumsy hands fumbling with cocks and clutching hard cheeks, but not this. How could it feel so right, so utterly pleasing and yet so strange? I never kissed another man before. The vague thought slipped through his awareness to fade away as they both opened their mouths in an urgency to draw more air into lungs suddenly depleted. At that point, it seemed completely natural to taste the inside of Balt’s mouth, sliding his tongue along the even white teeth and into the hollows on either side, beneath the strong, high cheekbones. A faint hint of mouthwash and coffee lingered, but neither repelled Jayce. He suspected his mouth tasted dry and dusty, as if he’d been on the desert for a long time. But Balt didn’t seem to mind…

ALSO BY DEIRDRE O’DARE Cowboy First Aid Karola’s Hunt Pickup Man Portrait Of A Cowboy Randi’s Hellacious Adventure The Taming of Jaelle’n To Protect and…Seduce?

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND BY DEIRDRE O’DARE

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND AN AMBER HEAT BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2006 by Deidre O’Dare ISBN-10 1-59279- 621-4 ISBN-13 978-1-59279-621-2 Cover Art © 2006 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

To two very different Jims who led me to a love of science fiction long years ago and another couple who taught me that love can come in many forms and guises but should always be accepted as the precious gift it is. Thanks yet again to the Amber Heat staff for allowing me to stretch my writing wings in new directions and encouraging me to do so. A writer could not ask for better support.

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

2279 Main Uni-Fleet Base, Titan Jayce woke bathed in sweat with an aching hard-on. He’d dozed off on his bunk, bored with this mandatory return to home base, allegedly for R and R. Nothing to do but fret. It drove him half-mad. Of course, he’d had that damned dream again—the one he couldn’t seem to get rid of, no matter what he tried. Damn, will that night ever stop haunting me? He exhaled in a jerky sigh. It had been over a year, yet the memories were as fresh as yesterday’s. The action at Morte Ravine was little more than a footnote now in the conquest of Kalibassi. The whole campaign had already been 1

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

swallowed by history with the discovery of yet more new worlds to conquer. He’d be heading out again soon to one of them. But he still couldn’t forget. The night had been hot. Kalibassi was always hot. Ninety percent desert, the rest of the planet was one small super-saline ocean, almost absorbed into the sandy land masses. Their body armor had weighed heavily on tired muscles and blistered skin. It seemed to press the heat into flesh and bone. They’d all thought of taking it off, but no one dared. Dusk fell as Jayce arrayed his squad along the twisting ravine. It was the only escape route out of Kalibar, the apparent capital of this backward world, once the main force marched in by the wider pass to the west. Balt—Cadet Lieutenant Baltazar Donovan—was the youngest man, the newest soldier. Fresh from basic training, he was green as the spring prairie. He might have been the top trainee in his class, but that was not combat. Any concerned officer would have done the same, Jayce had told himself. You keep the most vulnerable soldiers close while they learn the ropes. The plants and pests of Kalibassi were fully as dangerous as their rag-tag military. One bite from a sand spider or any of the small, swift adders brought quick and painful death. Even the thorns of the cactuslike shrubs caused infection and frequent allergic reactions. There was nothing hospitable about the place at all. It was valuable only for the rare and precious minerals the Uni-Council coveted with avid greed. For those resources, another world was taken. Darkness fell, heavy as the heat. It was one of those rare nights when all three of the Kalibassi moons were out of sight. The desert world’s perpetual haze hid the stars from view. Without their night vision goggles, every man jack of them might as well be blind. The scopes relied on infra-red, which in turn required life. That night, empty darkness as deeply black as boot polish, covered the ugly world. Kneeling on chelvar ground cloths which were supposed to repel 2

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

the vermin, the twenty soldiers settled down to wait. The keening wind, blowing off the craggy mountains behind them, made it hard to hear if anyone approached. The Kalibasians might be primitive, but they knew their home. Besides having extraordinary vision, they could move noiselessly. One could approach, grab you, and slit your throat with one of their vicious obsidian blades, all without making a sound. When long-distance, high-tech weapons did not stop them, they killed with chilling efficiency. The sand whispered as Balt edged closer, dragging his ground cloth. When he spoke, his shivers stuttered out in his speech. “D-d-damn it, ss-sir. I-I-I’m scared. I didn’t think I would be, but I’m s-s-scared shitless.” In his mind’s eyes, Jayce could see the younger man’s face as clearly as if it were broad daylight. He was almost too beautiful—wideset, liquid ebony eyes fringed with heavy lashes, firm rose-hued lips, delicate features that somehow mirrored his odd mix of Hispanic and Celtic heritage. The others teased him over his looks, but he took it in good nature. In spite of the beauty of his face, his physique was all male. He had wide shoulders and a trim waist, long muscular legs and an athlete’s grace. In time he would make a good soldier. But to do so, he had to survive long enough to learn and mature. Jayce felt the heat of the younger man’s body. Balt was that close. “I’ll tell you a secret,” he said, his voice coming out in a rasp. “We’re all scared, every fuckin’ time. Not many of us want to die. Certainly none of us want it to happen on some god-forsaken dump light years from home. Anyone who isn’t scared is a complete fool.” He heard Balt’s rough sigh. “Honest, sir?” “Hell, yes! I’m scared right now even though I’ve seen action on a dozen worlds, from ice-bound Boreanor to steamy jungles on Questane…and now this shit pit.” 3

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

After a moment of silence, the younger soldier spoke again, softly, so softly Jayce barely heard him. “Is it all right, er, do you mind if I stay here with you?” Jayce nodded, then realized the action could not be seen unless Balt had his goggles on and was looking directly at Jayce. “No, it’s okay.” Before the night ended, he found himself holding the young soldier. Just holding him, nothing more, much as a parent would console a frightened child. He only meant to give the elemental comfort of human contact, yet later his dreams took the situation far beyond that. Even now, months later, he could still feel Balt’s sleek, muscled body. He could feel the heat and the sudden awareness that had swept through him. It was a blatantly sexual heat, an encompassing hunger that sank its fangs into him and would not let go. They all survived the night. Near dawn the Kalibassi rabble finally came. They did not sneak silently, but stumbled along, announcing their approach with whimpers and wails. Laser rifles made short work of them. When the light grew stronger, it revealed the bulk of the refugees had been not warriors but females and cubs. At that revelation, Balt had been noisily sick. Jayce hadn’t felt too good himself. He’d fought back the urge to puke as he looked over the singed bodies, smelled the acrid odor of burned flesh. The sight was not pretty, nor was there victory in such a deed. His people had been warriors since time immemorial, but no coup came from remote, indiscriminate slaughter. Times like that, he questioned the career he had chosen, but it was far too late to take another path. When he went home on leave a few weeks later, his family and clan held a ceremony for him. The sweat lodge, the chants and prayers, and the dancing had all been done to cleanse the evil from his spirit, to purify his mind. Had it all been in vain? 4

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

Perhaps he did not believe enough anymore. He’d been away from the old folks and the old ways much too long. He’d had a number of women since the night on Kalibassi, yet none of them had really satisfied him. He might just as well have jacked off and saved his time or money. Was this strange haunting desire for a fellow soldier as abominable as it felt to him? He wished he had talked to his grandfather more, confessed this matter about Balt. Could the old shaman’s wisdom have given him some comfort? It was too late now. He’d probably never know. By the time he returned home again, the old man would likely be dead. There was no one else he trusted enough to unburden himself to. At times he thought he should just swallow the capture pill to end it all swiftly. Perhaps that time would come, although he couldn’t quite do it yet. In a couple of days he would be shipping out again. It couldn’t come too soon. The pressures of combat might drive the memories and the desires out of his mind. By the ancients, I pray it is so. Otherwise, I think I’ll go crazy. *

*

*

The next afternoon found Jayce once again stretched on his bunk. This time he had music playing loud enough to keep him awake. He wasn’t going to risk another dream. Drifting with the eerie sounds of his ancestor’s cedar flute, he was neither fully awake nor really asleep. The rap on his door jolted him back into the present. Jayce swung his bare feet off the bunk before padding across the floor to fling the door open. He was ready to growl at the unexpected caller. None of his friends were on base right now, so there was no one who should be looking for him. He didn’t feel the least bit sociable. The sound died in his throat. Had his wishful hunger materialized the object of his desire? Could it really be Balt Donovan who stood there, armed with a hesitant smile? Balt wore the silver slashes of Captain JG now on the collar of his tunic. A new maturity strengthened 5

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

his face. He had two campaign ribbons—Kalibassi and another that looked like Gomorrow. Jayce registered all those details in a shocked instant. “Can I come in? When I heard you were here, I knew I had to come see you. I need to thank you for helping me through my first taste of combat. It was easier the next time, but you were right, I was still scared.” Jayce could not speak. Instead he simply stepped back, leaving space for the other man to enter the room. Balt was no longer a green cadet, almost an apprentice soldier. He was an officer now, a man in every sense of the word, his beauty tempered with subtle traces of pain, regret and pride. He held out a hand. Jayce took it, letting the clasp bridge the space he could not span with words. A trickle of warmth slid along the inside of his arm and down his body. “You’ve done well,” he croaked after a long moment. “I can see that by your new insignia, and something in your face as well.” “You’re still a captain. I’m surprised. I’d have thought you’d be a major by now. Weren’t you on Hades II?” “Promotions get slower the higher you go,” Jayce admitted. “It’s the new young troops that fall, leaving gaps in the ranks. Those that survive earn their chevrons, then maybe appointment to the officer corps. You should know that by now.” Balt nodded. He looked around the stark room, as if taking in the minimal furniture and Spartan atmosphere. “I heard you’re shipping out soon, maybe tomorrow. That’s why I came today, to be sure I didn’t miss you. Most of the troops with orders are over at the club, drowning their worries in nightberry wine or some other booze. I looked, but didn’t see you there. When I asked, someone said you might be in your room.” “I don’t drink,” Jayce said. “I don’t handle alcohol well. It usually disagrees with me to the point I get sick before I get a good buzz. I 6

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

wasn’t in the mood to socialize anyway.” Balt drew in a long breath. A fleeting concern danced through his eyes. “Would you rather I left?” Yes. No. Oh hell! “No, you came to see me, so the least I can do is be polite, I guess. I was just surprised. I’d been thinking about you.” A faint blush spread across Balt’s cheeks. “I think about you a lot. I guess you’ve become a kind of hero in my mind.” “Don’t do that,” Jayce said harshly. “There’s nothing here to idolize, little to admire.” “No!” A shadow of distress crossed Balt’s expressive face. “No, you’re a good man, a good officer. Brave, yet compassionate and caring. As I rise through the ranks, I hope I can be such a man.” Jayce stepped back, sank onto the foot of the narrow bed. “Why are you here? Why did you really come to see me? I don’t need anyone’s hero worship. That’s stupid. You know better…or you should.” Balt flashed a brief smile. Hesitancy colored his expression. “I—I’d like to think we could be friends,” he said. “At least friends…” He held both hands out to Jayce. “Please.” As if pulled by a force beyond his resistance, Jayce stood again and moved closer, not stopping until he stood chest to chest with the younger man. Balt reached, wrapping both arms around him. Then Jayce found himself embracing Balt as well. They were of a height, which made it seem awkward. In spite of that, it felt very right. He could feel the rhythm of Balt’s heartbeat, faster than he’d expect. He smelled the spicy scent of aftershave, an odor not sweet but tangy, like lemon mixed with cinnamon. Then he found himself gazing into the younger man’s dark eyes, mere inches away from his own. What he saw there both comforted and frightened him. His reflection was there, of course, but somehow altered by another’s perception. He also saw a longing much like his own, an urgent need 7

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

that couldn’t be ignored or denied. They both moved at the same instant, two heads angling smoothly into the kiss. It occurred as if carefully choreographed. No noses bumped, and there was no clumsy twisting or shifting to find the right connection. Something deep within each of them knew, responded as if programmed to do so. Balt’s lips were firm and warm, softening slightly as Jayce’s met and meshed with them. Surprise, arousal and delight flashed through Jayce in an instant. This was not part of his dream. He’d dreamed of their naked bodies entangled, of clumsy hands fumbling with cocks and clutching hard cheeks, but not this. How could it feel so right, so utterly pleasing and yet so strange? I never kissed another man before. The vague thought slipped through his awareness to fade away as they both opened their mouths in an urgency to draw more air into lungs suddenly depleted. At that point, it seemed completely natural to taste the inside of Balt’s mouth, sliding his tongue along the even white teeth and into the hollows on either side, beneath the strong, high cheekbones. A faint hint of mouthwash and coffee lingered, but neither repelled Jayce. He suspected his mouth tasted dry and dusty, as if he’d been on the desert for a long time. But Balt didn’t seem to mind. Finally they had to part, to step back from one another and breathe normally for a few moments. Jayce felt every bit as shocked as Balt looked, yet a kind of peace came over him as he gazed into the younger man’s face. He found he knew Balt with an intimacy he had shared with few in his thirty-five years of life. It was almost as if he’d located the missing part of his soul, the other half of his own identity. It was frightening, yet exhilarating. He put his hands on Balt’s shoulders, wrapped his fingers around the hard curve of the younger man’s upper arms. The heat seeping through Balt’s uniform almost burned his palms, yet Jayce wanted to 8

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

feel skin, bare flesh with a hint of bone beneath it. “Can—would you mind taking your tunic off?” His voice sounded rusty, as if he hadn’t spoken in days. Balt’s eyes widened for an instant before he nodded. “Okay. Sure.” He drew free of Jayce’s clasp, and took a step back, one hand working at the buttons. In a moment he shrugged out of the garment and placed it on the back of the straight chair. Beneath the regulation night-blue tunic of the Marine arm of UniFleet to which they were both assigned, he wore only a light, thin undershirt without sleeves. The fabric was soft and clinging, molding over the taut muscles of his chest and stomach. Below that, his growing erection pushed out the fly of his lighter blue uniform trousers. Without looking, Jayce could feel his own cock, almost fully erect inside his thin PT shorts. Their bodies clearly knew no hesitation, no uncertainty at all. He couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. He was scared, more scared than he had ever been in the face of combat. Yet even that fear was arousing. His heart beat like a pow-wow drum, with a deep, hard rhythm. Blood pounded through his body, swelling his cock until it hurt, while making his skin feel tight and tender all over. When they again moved into an embrace, Jayce let his hands roam over the other man’s body, learning its contours. Balt similarly explored him, finally slipping his hands beneath the T-shirt Jayce wore to stroke his chest and back. “I’ve dreamed of this,” Balt confessed, his voice ragged. “I never forgot how it felt, when you held me that night on Kalibassi. I wanted to crawl into your skin with you, to become one entity.” “I—that night stayed with me, too.” Jayce begrudged the confession, but he had to make it, had to be honest. In a few short minutes they had bypassed deception and dissembling. He could no more pretend to Balt than to himself, and he was far too honest and brutal to hide from the truth, no matter how unsettling it might be. 9

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

Among the Uni-Fleet troops, all relationships were frowned upon, especially those between senior and junior officers, or officers and enlisted. It made no difference what the sexes of the two people were. All the women had a birth control implant so there were no issues about pregnancy. Otherwise, there was no differentiation between the sexes. If an attachment came to the attention of higher echelons, they lost no time separating the pair and assigning them duty stations as far apart as the universe allowed. Fraternization was simply not permitted. Casual sex tended to be ignored, but no real bonding was tolerated, no connection that might cause favoritism or distract any soldier from his or her duty. An officer was expected to have exactly equal concern for each of the troops he or she led, no favorites. The code was stern and unforgiving. Jayce knew this, and he knew Balt did, too. Already Jayce sensed this was not going to be only a casual fling, a one-night stand. He’d been in much deeper than that since Kalibassi. They were treading dangerous ground from the very first moment. The second knock on the door in less than thirty minutes interrupted them. They sprang apart, both breathing heavily. Balt grabbed for his tunic and shoved his arms through the sleeves, fighting the fabric as it tangled. Jayce mumbled, “In a minute,” as if he were half-asleep. Silently, he gestured toward the closet-sized head, opening off the room. Jayce waited until Balt entered and drew the accordion door shut behind him before he opened the door into the corridor. A young trooper stood there, an apologetic expression on her face. Jayce recognized the assistant aide to the station commander, an admiral of the Uni-Fleet. “Captain Hightower?” He nodded sharply, not trusting himself to speak. She handed him a vid-disk. “Your orders, sir. I think they’ve been changed. It’s urgent or I wouldn’t have bothered you. Admiral Vantage 10

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

insisted that you be informed at once.” If she noticed he still had half a hard-on, she didn’t give a sign of it. He didn’t think her gaze ever dropped below his shoulders. Jayce took the disk and thanked her as courteously as he could. Another wish come true, perhaps. Beware what you wish for. The disk should hold his ticket off this world, away from this stifling station. The headquarters was rife with politics and bureaucracy, the epitome of all aspects of the military that Jayce found most hateful. He shut the door softly before standing, disk in hand, staring blankly at the battleship gray plasteel floor. Too much, too soon. He couldn’t comprehend it all at once. Balt, Balt, Balt. Every beat of his heart seemed to repeat the name. Finally, he pressed his thumb to the chip that would start the vid. As words and images flashed across the shiny surface, he gasped. Shock knifed through him, sharp as a fine-honed blade. No! Oh no! Disbelief welled. He clung to it, although common sense told him there was no mistake. He didn’t realize Balt had emerged from the latrine until the younger man’s arms closed around him from behind. “What is it, Jayce? What’s wrong?” Balt spoke softly, almost into his ear, so close Jayce could feel the slight breeze of the other man’s breath across his jaw and neck. For a long moment, Jayce leaned against Balt’s body, letting the strength and heat support him. “Atsileigh—my orders are for Atsileigh.” “Holy fucking shit,” Balt said, in an awed whisper. “Why would they send you there? “Atsileigh. My God. Has the council gone mad?” They both knew all the evil rumors about the small, remote world, closer to the Farbegone Sector than to Old Terra and its neighbors. Several centuries ago, a rebellious group of space soldiers, mostly Navajo, had stolen a small ship and gone AWOL. They’d ended up on 11

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

the harsh, remote world, then at the very edge of known space. From then on, rumors had grown since very few visited the distant colony and fewer still survived to return. There were white buffalo there and the settlers had reverted to their pre-Columbian state. There were gems and gold and other valuable resources, which the colonists traded to pirates for technology. It was heaven and hell rolled into one. Since then, other small bands had occasionally fled there as well, criminals and derelicts, rebels and fools. It was called the Rebel Planet by the higher officials, and the Bad Injun Planet by those who eschewed the polite and politically correct terms when talking among themselves. “Seems the council wants a way-station there from which they can go on farther into the Outer Reaches. I’m to negotiate with the colonists or the rebels or whoever is in charge for a patch of ground, just enough for a station. I’m to promise them they can keep the rest.” “Are you going to go?” Jayce twitched one shoulder in an irritated shrug. “Do I have a choice?” Balt gave a bitter laugh. “Not really. I guess you could run and join them. It’s that or obey, isn’t it?” Jayce turned, moving in the circle of Balt’s embrace. “I’ll go. I may be able to retire by the time I get back, go home and live in a shanty on the Rez or maybe a condo here on Titan. I’m getting tired of it all, so very tired, but they put a carrot on the stick. I’ll go a major.” Balt shook his head, his eyes shiny with emotion. “When?” “Now…tonight. I have to go to sick bay and get an implant so I won’t need to carry the kind of comm-gear that might stand out too much. I’ve never done much intel work, but enough to know how to act, the way to infiltrate and gather information, the way to talk to people and bring them around.” Balt didn’t speak. He simply reached up with both hands to cup 12

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

Jayce’s face. Then he leaned forward the slight distance necessary to bring their lips together. It was a harsh, wrenching, violent kiss, a kiss of claiming and yet sundering. Jayce shut his eyes to let the full impact of sensation and emotion wash over him. It might be a long time before he would see or touch Balt again. He might never. This might be the last time. He opened to the urgent probing of Balt’s tongue, responding with thrusts of his own. They clung to each other, as if somehow they could meld their two separate selves into a single entity. Nothing had ever felt so completely right and yet the pain was almost too much to bear. Just this one time… Jayce was too stunned to react when Balt released him abruptly to kneel before him. Balt’s hands skimmed down Jayce’s torso. He caught the elastic waist of Jayce’s shorts, dragging them quickly over his hips and letting them drop around his ankles. Although Jayce’s conscious mind still whirled with confusion, darting ahead to the unexpected assignment and back, to the severing of this fragile new union and a future that looked very bleak, his subconscious had already responded. Freed of the constricting fabric, his cock went rigid, thrusting into Balt’s hand. Jayce widened his stance, bracing himself as Balt stroked the length of his shaft, once and again. He felt the strength and power in the other man’s hand, although the clasp remained exquisitely gentle, a touch filled with love. “Don’t,” Jayce croaked. “You don’t need to do this.” “Yes, I do. I need it even more than you do. It won’t take long. Then you can go. But we’ll have this moment, this memory to keep.” Jayce took a half step back, kicking one foot free of the dropped shorts. He braced his shoulders against the wall as Balt licked slowly around the head of his dick, tickling the hundreds of little nerve buds there with swift, darting strokes. Jayce moaned, clenching his fists to 13

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

keep from grabbing Balt by the ears. He wanted to smash the other man’s face into his crotch, grind himself against the stubble of beard, the strong, angled planes and the unique beauty that was there. If he once grabbed, he was not sure he could let go. Balt opened his mouth wide and eased down over Jayce’s cock, reaching, stretching, somehow taking almost all of it. Jayce’s muscles clenched as fiery darts of pleasure seared along his nerves. When Balt began a slow rhythmic motion, Jayce added to it with thrusts of his hips, involuntary and almost unaware. Pressure built, a tightening knot of compulsion in his gut. He shut his eyes, although he wanted to watch. He simply could not absorb every sensation at once. His hearing faded, vision fading to a ruddy haze. The pain of his nails digging into his palms was distant, hardly felt. He dimly sensed the cool, slick wall behind his back, but the only thing that really mattered was the hot, wet pressure of Balt’s mouth. He was going to go off any second. Now. Oh, my God! He came hard, his prick jerking and squeezing with the force of it. Only after the last spurt did Balt rock back on his heels, sliding his lips slowly off Jayce’s cock as it subsided. Then Jayce could open his eyes. Balt looked up at him, a wry smile twisting his lips, still slick and wet. “You’ve done that before,” Jayce accused. “You knew exactly what to do.” Balt shook his head. “No, that was the first time. I only know what I like, what felt good when I bought a whore’s services or conned my way into some girl’s favor back home.” Jayce ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair, feeling the sweat on his scalp. Trickles of it ran down his body. He was breathing as if he had run a mile under full gear. “If I’m not at sick bay like ten minutes ago, they’re going to come looking for me. I don’t want to go. I owe you a release, too, but there’s no time.” 14

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

Balt stood, shaking his head. “I know you have to go. I’m not asking, would not accept if you offered. What I just did was not what I came here to do. I want you to believe that, but I’m not sorry. I didn’t realize until I saw you again that I love you, really love you. That what I felt was so much more than just admiration, friendship or heroworship.” It was Jayce’s turn to shake his head. “No, don’t say that! Don’t bind yourself to me. I won’t come back from this assignment. I can see it clearly now. I’m not sure what I’ve done, but someone isn’t happy with me. This is how they handle it. The higher echelons know how to send you someplace, a final assignment that’ll go bad. They may make you out a hero to your kin, to the press, but you’ll be dead.” He reached out and caught Balt’s hand, the same one that had stroked him so tenderly. “Go in peace and harmony, my—my friend, my true friend. Have a beautiful life. Be happy. Especially be happy.” His voice broke and his vision misted. For a moment Jayce was paralyzed. Balt straightened his uniform, squared his shoulders and took two steps toward the door. For a long breath, he turned back. He smiled again, this time a mixture of rue and whimsy painting his face. “You won’t be rid of me that easy, Jayce. We will meet again. We’ll be together as we’re meant to be. As my mother’s people say, ‘Vaya con Dios.’” He was through the door and gone before Jayce could respond. *

*

*

Atsileigh did not have white buffalo. As far as Jayce had been able to see by several ten-days after his arrival, it didn’t have gold, gems or any other wonderful treasures either. It was as stark, barren and ugly as any place he’d ever been. His landing pod had come to rest in a sandy patch of desert in the lap of some of the wickedly jagged mountains that rambled across the 15

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

small planet’s surface. It took him three days to find any of the inhabitants. Members of the hunting party he encountered were suspicious, but not hostile. They willingly gave him the shelter, food and water, which, by then, he sorely needed. From talks with the chief of the band from which the hunters came, he learned that clans and tribes were scattered over the livable regions of the rocky little world. Travel from the territory of one band to the next was toilsome and slow. The people had a few worn hovercraft, but those were saved for the most dire emergencies. Mostly they walked or rode some of the scaly, lizard-like beasts they had managed to tame for draft and saddle animals. Weapons were the main application of higher technology they had acquired. Both regular firearms and older model laser rifles were held by each band and maintained with great care. Some of them were amazingly ancient, but still fired, still killed. Living conditions on Atsileigh were harsh and primitive. Most of the people had barely enough to eat, while scarce water seemed to be the most precious commodity they had. Jayce had grown up in conditions equally tough as a boy on the reservation, but that had been long ago. Now, as he shared their stark lives, he was not sure why people would choose to live this way. Then he realized it was the only route they had to being truly free. Jayce discovered that each band was more or less autonomous. Although there was no warfare among them, no one leader would presume to make decisions for anyone other than the members of his or her own band. A couple of young, single men from the first band he encountered accompanied Jayce as he moved on to find others. He quickly recognized that their social structure required him to gather them all, or at least an official representative of each group, to meet with the diplomatic team the Uni-Council would send to negotiate an agreement. 16

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

The implant, a tiny chip buried in the bone behind his left ear, allowed him to communicate with the fast little ship that had brought him from Titan. It was in a low angle orbit around the planet, virtually invisible to human eyes. The ship relayed information to and from higher headquarters. Jayce needed only to speak in the faintest whisper to be heard. Per his orders, he officially reported once every twentyfour hours. Most of the time the connection was in an idle mode, activated only if he spoke a certain phrase. At least it was supposed to be. Sometimes Jayce wondered. The natives seemed to accept his need to go off for a few minutes every evening as some sort of religious observance and did not intrude. It took him nine ten-days, a quarter of a year, to visit each band and tribe, gathering the chiefs or their representatives to meet with the diplomats. There was still no assurance they would all agree to the proposal to establish a maintenance depot and refueling station here on their primitive world, but they had agreed to hear the officials and consider it. The last night before the meeting, he sat with a group of the chiefs and their eldest sons and daughters around a small fire. For a moment, he allowed himself the luxury of recalling his final hours at headquarters, the brief time he had spent with Balt. Will I ever see him again? He could not answer his own plaintive question. A shadowy misgiving hovered at the edges of his thoughts. He had an intuitive sense that something was not going to go well, but he could not call up a vision of what catastrophe might befall him. In the end, he simply stared into the flickering vermillion, gold and copper of the flames, seeing Balt’s face, and the faces of friends and family long left behind and almost forgotten. A chilling certainty he would never see any of them again settled low in his belly. It soured the spicy stew he had eaten with his new friends. He had found much to admire in these people, who were a kind of distant kin. They had 17

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

accepted—no, almost adopted him. They also seemed to put a level of trust in his story that boded well for a potential agreement. With a few small changes, I could live here for the rest of my life and be content. The surprising thought came out of nowhere and yet did not shock him. Here, if he could somehow reach Balt and ask the younger man to join him, they could live in peace. They would not have to fear that each parting would be their last. Balt came from a wealthy family. Perhaps he could obtain a few things to make life more comfortable, even help the longer term residents reach a higher standard of living. It was a sweet dream, though idle. *

*

*

The landing craft for the diplomatic team was much larger and more luxurious than the stripped down one-man pod Jayce had used. It descended in a masking cloud of rainbow-colored smoke and flames, a trick obviously intended to impress the Atsileighan authorities. Jayce was not impressed. From their expressions, most of the chiefs were not either. Although they did not use much of it, they were not unaware of technology or as simple and naïve as the Uni-Council thought them to be. The Council will not get their base here for a few strings of beads and other trinkets. Jayce gave a bitter smile at the thought. The first day’s parlays were little more than a meaningless diplomatic dance, every word and gesture stylized and theatrical. By the second day, serious negotiations began. After three days of such talks, Jayce started to believe the chiefs would agree to establishment of a base, although within strict and limiting parameters. He prayed the Uni-Council would be satisfied with that, at least for a while. He was a mere observer, not officially part of either side. From this vantage point, he gained a strong respect for two of the band chiefs, older seasoned men with a level of wisdom he could but envy. Their 18

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

pointed questions and careful guarding of the rights and autonomy of their people were truly amazing. How he would love to have commanding officers and officials of that caliber. Were there even men of that type left any more in his circles? He had his doubts. At that point, the Uni-Council diplomats suggested as many people as possible be assembled for a feast, held to mark the momentous occasion of this initial agreement. Lulled now by what they saw as a respectful and cooperative finale to the process, most of the chiefs were willing to do this. Runners went out in many directions to gather the clans, at least those within a day or two of travel. Jayce’s misgivings grew stronger, but there was nothing he could say or do. He felt foolish, allowing himself to be tormented by groundless hunches and doubts for which he had no concrete basis. Still, he felt the chilling brush of an owl’s wing across his face, the cold shadow of the vulture blocking him from the sun. Denial did not make either go away. The feast day dawned, brightened by the rising of Atsileigh’s twin rusty suns, almost together, which only happened once or twice a year. A festive atmosphere prevailed. Over small, smokeless fires the women of the various bands cooked special dishes to honor the visitors. A second lander came down, bringing rare treats and delicacies imported from many worlds. At last all was ready. They waited in patient rows for the formal procession by the three men and two women of the Uni-Council delegation. The group appeared at the hatchway of their craft, dressed in brilliant-colored robes that contrasted sharply with the dull grays and tans of leather and coarse cloth worn by the Atsileighans. Jayce dressed now as one of natives, the close-fitting space suit he had arrived in worn to tattered scraps by his travels. The agreement, scribed on a rare piece of parchment, held a place of honor on the first table. Many had filed by to look at it, noting the 19

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

signatures or hand prints of the clan chiefs, the ornate signet marks of the delegates. Everyone had heard it was to be enshrined within a plastacine box and hung on the wall of the main building when the station complex was constructed. When the catastrophe finally came, it all happened too quickly. Jayce started when guardsmen suddenly appeared on either side of the five delegates as they paused at the top of the ramp. The troopers were armed with the latest and most powerful laser rifles. As one, they raised the weapons and began to fire into the crowd. The searing blasts felled row after row of men, women and children. Everyone was too stunned to move, most even unable to scream their shock and pain. For a numbed instant Jayce watched in horror. Then he threw himself forward between the hail of fury and the eldest chieftain, who miraculously still stood. His only thought was he had to save at least one of the brave, wise men he had come to admire. The savage beams of pure energy seared his flesh before darkness closed over him. The Uni-Council delegation had scarcely lifted clear of the carnage when a small, sleek ship slipped in over the scene, flying low and slowly among mountain peaks to remain unnoticed. As the delegation’s transport faded into the dusky sky, the slender, silver-gray craft circled the area. *

*

*

At the controls, former Uni-Fleet Captain Balt Donovan flew slowly across the site of the gathering. A few of the fallen still stirred, but most were clearly dead, many burned almost to cinders. Fear mixed with a horrible rage curdled in his belly. The vicious deception and wanton genocide that had occurred here were beyond despicable. If Jayce had survived, which looked increasingly unlikely, how bitter he would be to have played a part in it. Knowing what a caring and honorable man Jayce was, Balt fought against pain-induced nausea. Jayce would probably be near suicidal. As for himself, he wanted 20

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

nothing more than to leave this place and hope the memory did not follow him. He had seen far too much and the sights were gruesome. He shook off the cold hand of despair. No, I can’t leave without knowing, without being sure. I have to find him. Even if I only get charcoal to take home. Balt set the little craft down gently near where the delegation’s rocket had departed. Although Balt’s black market communication implant had been imperfectly tuned, he had heard fragments of Jayce’s most recent transmissions to headquarters, ending with a broken cry of distress at the beginning of the slaughter. The anguish in that incoherent sound tore his heart out. He was right—they hadn’t planned for Jayce to come back. I would not have believed—a year ago, even less, I would not have believed this could happen. When he opened the hatch and stepped out, the odor of burned flesh assaulted his senses. It took him back briefly to the long-ago dawn on Kalibassi. He could control the urge to vomit now, but the smell was as disgustingly horrible as ever. He walked slowly among the fallen, searching faces and bodies for anything familiar. His two loyal retainers followed, ready to do whatever he asked of them. He almost missed Jayce, somehow not expecting to find him in the clothing of the Atsileighans. His heart stuttered as he knelt to check for a pulse. Jayce was badly burned, but people had survived with equal or even worse damages. If shock had not killed him already, there might be hope. Balt found a bit of unburned skin on Jayce’s neck, where it had been protected by the rolled collar of the vest of his crude boiled leather body armor. Gingerly, he touched three finger tips to the spot. He was trembling too hard to sense a pulse. Exerting all his will, along with the discipline 21

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

acquired in his rigorous training, he calmed himself, steadied his hand. A heartbeat, faint but distinct! Mad hope leaped. It was almost too good to be true. He and his two men fashioned a litter, eased Jayce’s seared body onto it, and then carried him as carefully as they could back to the ship. No longer slow and no longer stealthy, Balt blasted off into space. He sent the supercharged craft away under full military power. Determination filled him. He would obtain the best care money could buy for Jayce and would get him to that facility as quickly as possible. Damn anything that should presume to get in his way! *

*

*

Jayce awoke slowly, mentally feeling his way through a fog of pain and confusion. Every sense seemed to be tuned to the maximum so light was fiercely bright, sounds cruelly loud and scents practically too pungent to bear. He opened his eyes, only to slam them shut again as the brightness assaulted his brain. However, he saw enough in that blink to feel sure he had never been in this place before. Memory was hazy. He could picture the reservation and his kin there, kids he had played and gone to school with. Then he could recall enlisting, basic training and entry into the officer corps. Was that it? Shouldn’t there be more to his life? Battles. Yes, he had been involved in battles, not one but many. The last one, though, continued to elude him. Clearly he had been badly wounded, but he could not bring to mind the circumstances. There was someone, too, a person he ached to see, craving assurance the other was still alive and well. That face flashed across the vid-screen of his memory and faded. He slipped off into sleep or unconsciousness at that point. The next time he awoke things were much clearer. He recognized that he lay in a special cradle, almost surrounded by an array of gadgets and dials. Fragile electrodes feather-touched his body in many places 22

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

and a kind of tingling sensation emanated from each touch. Experimentally, he tried to move first one arm and then the other. Soft bands held them down, but he could move a bit, although his bones and muscles felt new, weak and untried. “You’re waking up at last.” The deep voice sounded warm and pleased. Opening his eyes, Jayce looked up into the face that had been lingering on the edges of his awareness. “Where…what…why?” He could not yet frame coherent questions, but he knew he needed answers, a whole lot of them. “You’ve been on life support and in ReGen for forty days. Everything is back to normal now, but all of it is like new. It’ll take you a while to build back to the strength, reflexes and control you had, but I’ll help you. The doctors taught me how to do the therapy you’ll need.” The other man studied him for a moment then, worry forming a tight crease down between his dark brows and expressive ebony eyes. “Do you remember me?” “Balt.” The name came from somewhere and with it images so intensely erotic that Jayce squirmed. “I don’t think I understand about how I was wounded.” “There was a—a conflict. It seems you were caught in the crossfire. Laser burns are nasty. You had a lot of them, everything from blistering like a sunburn to third degree on about half your body. I got you out of there as fast as I could, then got the best medical help money can buy. Thank God it was enough. Then healing just took time.” Jayce sensed there was much the other man had not yet revealed, but what he did say rang true and made sense. He nodded slowly. The ReGen cradle had begun to feel claustrophobic. He needed air and openness around him. He lifted an arm again, pushing at the restraints. When Balt hit an 23

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

unseen control, they fell away. “How do I get…um…get out? I really want to get out of here.” His voice sounded rusty and strange. He found he had to stop and concentrate on finding the right words and shaping their sounds the proper way. It was as if he had been reborn in an adult body, with only shadowy memories of how to do ordinary things like walking and talking. Balt fiddled with some more controls until the curved panel on one side of the cradle opened and lowered. “Sure. Here you go. You’re going to be very weak and probably clumsy for a few days, though. You know I’m here to help you, so don’t be reluctant to ask.” *

*

*

Jayce regained his strength and coordination quickly, although not fast enough to suit him. He suspected there were still things Balt hadn’t told him. He was growing impatient and wanted to hear it all. Yet, however he tried to edge up to the subject in a conversation, Balt always managed to steer their talks into other paths. Still, Jayce did learn much, if not the precise facts he most wanted to know. Here was home, Balt’s own deeded planetoid, a terra-formed moon of one of Aldebran’s planets. Upon reaching a specified age a few months earlier, and having made a good accounting of himself in the forces, Balt’s vast fortune had been released to him. He then resigned his commission and began to set up a rescue mission in hopes of getting Jayce out of what he termed “a bad situation” before it was too late. He admitted he had barely succeeded in that last. But all the bad parts were behind them, he insisted. They were now in a safe haven. ”Quit worrying, Jayce. I can see the wheels turning. We’re safe here for as long as we want to stay. Remember, I own the ground. I’ve stocked up on everything I thought we could need or even want. As far as the Powers-that-Be are aware, you’re dead. I resigned my commission, then disappeared. With my family connections, it’ll be 24

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

assumed I just went home and took my place somewhere in the catacombs of Donovan y Delgado Enterprises.” This afternoon they lay in a patch of tall, silky grass, letting the caressing rays of the powerful sun-star bathe them in healing energies. Jayce felt too relaxed and contented to make the effort to ask any more questions. Although they continued to haunt the edges of his thoughts, it was hard right now to believe that they mattered. Jayce lost himself in the sensations of sun and wind on his bare body, the gentle, prickly tickle of the grass beneath him and the erotically charged awareness of the body so close to his. He took another deep breath of sweet-scented air and let it out slowly. Beyond the grass a streamlet meandered through the meadow in a sheltered hollow between two hills. Small white flowers dotted the green and it was their fragrance that hung sweet in the air. He hadn’t felt so well, so alive in a long, long time. There seemed to be something rejuvenating in the very air here. He turned his head to look at his partner. They both wore only brief trunks. The sun’s golden light reflected off Balt’s sleek body as if he were a statue shaped from some exotic metal. Jayce reached a tentative hand out to stroke along Balt’s ribs, reveling in the satin heat of the other man’s skin. Although Balt had been completely circumspect while they worked together on the exercises Jayce needed to fine-tune his newly healed body, the younger man hadn’t been able to completely hide the desires he felt. They’d shone from his eyes and in each smile, flowed into Jayce with each touch of his strong, supportive hands. Jayce grinned to himself. The time had come to let Balt know the healing process was complete, that Jayce would welcome the intimate contact they both needed. Rolling onto his side to face Balt, Jayce drifted his hand slowly downward. He drew back to miss the tempting bulge in Balt’s trunks and stroked down the tawny length of the other 25

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

man’s thigh. Then he slipped to the inside and began a slow journey back up toward Balt’s crotch. Balt reached quickly to catch his wrist. “Are you sure you’re ready, Jayce? Well enough? Is this what you really want? You don’t have to do a thing. There are no conditions attached to my care, to my friendship. I realize now how presumptuous I was back on Titan. I didn’t really give you a chance to say no.” Jayce met Balt’s earnest gaze. “Do you think I would have?” “Maybe. Maybe that was why I didn’t ask first.” “Well, I’m ready now. I’ve never needed to be with anyone so badly in all my life as I need you, right now.” For a long moment their gazes locked in a compelling connection. Then they both rolled to come together into each other’s arms. The delicious sensations of warm skin to warm skin kindled a blaze of delight that flared quickly into searing desire. Jayce dropped one hand to the erection stretching the silky fabric of Balt’s trunks. He rolled his palm across it, felt the other man’s flesh leap in response. Then he slipped his hand under the waistband to free Balt’s cock from restraint. It felt like chamois or velvet over steel, a titillating juxtaposition of delicacy and hardness. He could just wrap his hand around its circumference. The subtle twitch of each pulse through its length sent shock waves through his palm straight to his own prick. For a moment, Jayce just clasped his hand around Balt’s shaft. Its heat and power radiated through his fist, up his arm, suffusing his whole body. A brief moment of strangeness and unease faded and passed. Slowly he stroked the full length, eased his grip, and slid down to stroke again. Balt groaned deep in his chest. “That feels so bloody good, Jayce, but let’s try something else.” He drew away, twisted up onto his knees, then turned around so his head was near Jayce’s feet. They both took a moment then to peel off their trunks, baring the last bit of flesh to the sun and the caressing breeze. 26

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

“This way we can both enjoy the same thing.” Suiting action to words, he reached to clasp Jayce’s cock, already stiff and quivering in anticipation. Even that was not enough. Jayce slid in the grass, moving until he could press his mouth against the tip of Balt’s prick. He licked the moisture from the slit and then began to work his way around the head, his tongue flicking into the groove beneath it. The tiny nerve buds each swelled to create a pebbly texture as he licked. Within moments Balt began returning the favor. The result of the mutual stimulation was like a completed circuit. Jayce felt like sparks of energy were flowing in a circle, constantly moving from one to the other, igniting a conflagration of need. While he steadied Jayce’s shaft with one hand, Balt reached with the other to stroke his balls, rolling the roundness gently between thumb and forefinger. The effect was like a blast of dynamite along Jayce’s sensitive nerves. It was his turn to groan then, and he did. The exquisite sensations were almost too much to bear. He managed to keep enough control to continue to tease Balt’s cock…but barely. He rested his head on the hard muscle of Balt’s thigh and slowly drew the younger man’s hardness into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and tasting the sharp flavor of desire. Balt shifted and began to lick, then suck Jayce, while a torrent of maddening hungers swelled. Just when Jayce thought he could endure no more of this pleasure, sharper than a keen pain, the dam burst. They both came at almost the same instant, shooting their seed in fierce, urgent spurts. Jayce’s throat went tight for an instant, but then he relaxed, tasting the life-force of his lover and letting the sticky, salty fluid trickle down in a slow rivulet. It was like a childhood rite of blood brotherhood only so much more, a melding and binding that he sensed nothing could ever sever. They would go on in the future to couple in many ways, 27

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

pleasuring each other in every possible manner, but this shared act had joined them inseparably for all time. As he lay back to rest, momentarily weak and dizzy with the intensity of sensations and emotions that washed over him, a great block of the recent past suddenly snapped to a clear focus in his memory. Almost as if he hovered above the scene and observed, he saw the small ship set down on the field of carnage, saw Balt emerge and fight down the sickness that swept over him at the stench and horror. He watched as Balt searched and finally found him, then fell back into his own tortured body to feel the hesitant touch of Balt’s questing fingers on his neck. He was near death at that moment, but somehow that touch and the intense need radiating from the younger man had called him back. He could not abandon that love, that need and devotion. Jayce leaned up on one elbow and looked at Balt, his gaze sliding lovingly from the gently waved dark hair down to the neat shapes of his feet. “You saved my life,” he said. “You had it all planned down to the instant, didn’t you? A few minutes later would’ve been too late.” Balt looked back at him, eyes weighted with a blend of joy and anguish. “You just remembered, didn’t you? It was bad, the worst thing I ever saw. I didn’t have time to help anyone else, but I did call the Red Heart as we blasted away and sent them in to look for survivors, to save anyone they could. I learned later there were several, plus the people who had not come to the gathering. They’ve all been taken to a safe place, an isle of peace. I’m not sure what’ll be done, but there are elements in the Uni-Council appalled by what occurred on Atsileigh. Someone drastically overreached his authority.” Jayce shook his head. “I knew it was going to go awry, but I never dreamed anything that bad. Gods, if only I could have foreseen…” For a moment the anguish was almost more than he could bear as he relived that horrible betrayal. 28

TREADING DANGEROUS GROUND

Balt’s urgent voice called him back. “It isn’t your fault, Jayce. You acted in good faith, as much a victim as any of the Atsileighans.” Balt’s voice held compelling urgency, which was echoed by his gaze. “You’re safe here, now. Major Jayson Hightower is listed as MIA on Atsileigh and presumed dead. We’re both dead to the Powers-that-Be, and that’s how it’ll stay. No more treading dangerous ground, my dearest friend. We’re here, we’re together, and that’s the way I mean for things to stay.” Jayce read the truth in Balt’s impassioned words. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t need to pick up a burden of unearned guilt and let it bear him down. He reached out to clasp Balt’s hand. “All that sounds damn good. You’ll get no arguments from me. You saved it, so my life is yours from here on out, heart-friend. We’re partners, now and forever.”

29

DEIRDRE O’D ARE Deirdre O’Dare, who also writes contemporary romance as Gwynn Morgan, has loved reading and writing since early childhood. She started writing—simple verses and paraphrases of Nancy Drew and Zane Gray—before she was out of grade school and finally settled into romantic fiction in the last decade after leaving her “day job” as a civilian employee of the U.S. Army. She lives in Arizona and frequently sets her stories in the Southwest she knows and loves, but now and then another locale calls to her creativity and she strays, even as far as prehistoric Greece and places that exist only in her imagination.

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC HOME OF AMBER H EAT!

QUALITY EROTIC FICTION IN BOTH PRINT AND ELECTRONIC FORMATS ACTION /ADVENTURE

SUSPENSE/THRILLER

SCIENCE FICTION

PARANORMAL

ALTERNATIVE

MYSTERY

ROMANCE

HORROR

DARK FANTASY

FANTASY

CONTEMPORARY

HISTORICAL AND MORE…

BUY DIRECT AND S AVE http://www.amberheat.com