04 Hand to Hand Read online

  Hand to Hand

  By Julie Woodcock

  Valcyr hunched on a stool in the Rat Warren's Knightfall Bar, her long hands cupped around a potent drink, eyes slitted in pain. She could feel her chest cavity vibrating with the loud and erotic rhythms that blasted from the club's amplifiers, and the music was giving her a headache.

  She seemed alone in her disapproval, though; other cycops filled the vast dance floor behind her, their lean, dangerous bodies meshing, pelvises grinding. Valcyr knew it would be an arousing sight, but she was making it a point not to watch. Right now, she was not a big fan of sex.

  Two hours ago, she'd walked in on her lover just as he was driving his cock into another woman's body.

  The sight of Radm's broad back wrapped in Gabri's long, dark legs had seared her into instant shock. She'd turned and walked out just before the numbness wore off and the urge to kill took over. Unfortunately, four of the Knightfall's most lethal concoctions had failed to drown that urge -- had, in fact, only made her mood more violent.

  "Considering murder?" The voice in her ear was smooth and deep, with a nasty edge of mockery. It was also familiar.

  "Why, J'Bon? Want to be a victim?" Valcyr snapped, shooting a glare at him. He was a dark, handsome man with a chiseled face and a thickly muscled body presently camoflaged in a tuxedo. God, she was not in the mood for this. She could barely tolerate J'Bon's rampant egotism at the best of times; now she was likely to slit his throat.

  "No -- just extending a little commiseration," he told her. "You're not the only one they betrayed. Gabri's mine."

  "That's rich, coming from a man who's fucked his way through half the force."

  "But not your half."

  "Frustrating, isn't it?"

  "Yes, I'd imagine it must be. But who knows -- you may get lucky."

  "I certainly hope not."

  He leaned forward, his sensual mouth splitting in a white grin. "There's no point in pretending, Valcyr. We both know you want me."

  She cracked out a laugh. "You fantasize."

  "I'm sure you like to think so." J'Bon paused, and his smile metamorphosized into a leer. He reached out to brush his fingers up her thigh. "You know, I'm every bit as ... big as they say."

  "That's nothing to brag about, J'Bon."

  His leer vanished. "Ah. I see why Radm turned to Gabri--he got tired of that vicious tongue."

  "Oh, did I hit a nerve?" Valcyr asked sweetly through her teeth.

  "Maybe I should give you a sample," he growled. "After a night with me, you wouldn't be sneering. You'd be begging."

  "Forget it, J'Bon. I know you'd just love to screw me and give Radm a play-by-play, but I'm damned if I'll be a pawn in any game of yours."

  "Oh, come on, Val," he coaxed, a leer ruining the effect, "just imagine the look on his face when I..."

  "Blow off." She got up and turned to leave.

  And he attacked. "What's the matter, Val -- no guts? Afraid of what Radm'll do if he finds out? Too bad he wasn't that worried when he started fucking Gabri... But then, maybe he already knew what you'd do..." He paused, and a sneer curled his mouth. "Nothing."

  Valcyr's spine went rigid. Then she turned. "Name your seconds and your weapons, bastard."

  "No seconds. We fight to first ... penetration." J'Bon smiled broadly, satisfied. "You use a long knife."

  "And what'll you use -- a great sword?"

  "No, but you'll probably think it is when I drive it into your cunt." The smile turned into a leer.

  She blinked, then barked out a laugh. "Keep dreaming."

  The leer faded, and he asked with silky menace, "Are you refusing to honor my choice?"

  Valcyr cursed under her breath. As the challenged party, it was his right to choose the weapons, no matter how outrageous. She couldn't object unless they put her at a ridiculous disadvantage -- and being armed with a knife while he was barehanded could hardly be said to do that. "No."

  "I'll meet you at 3 a.m. on the Dome Deck," J'Bon said, not even bothering to disguise the smug satisfaction in his voice. "And, Val -- get some rest. You'll need it."

  Valcyr blew a gust of air between her teeth as she watched him swagger away ... and tried to rid herself of the nagging thought that she'd just been outmaneuvered.

  She walked onto the Dome Deck exactly on the hour, carrying a sheathed long knife in one hand.

  J'Bon was waiting for her, standing tall and arrogant in the center of the deck's huge space. She had to admire the way he'd orchestrated the scene. The great transparent dome formed a starry backdrop behind him, and he'd dimmed the room lighting until it sculpted his muscular body in rich shadow. He wore nothing but a fighter's thong brief -- a triangle of leather supported by a band that bisected his ass. To put a final erotic spin on the moment, he was squirting a bottle of oil slowly and deliberately over his chest. "Sure you want to win, Val?" he purred.

  She instantly decided it was time to give him a taste of his own aphrodisiac.

  J'Bon stared at Valcyr with hot anticipation as she paused in the hatchway. She wore a white haltertop and a pair of french cut briefs with a great deal of long body showing, and he had to admit she looked good. "Oil, 'Bon?" she asked in her husky voice. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. I certainly wouldn't want you to get a good grip."

  She started toward him with a fighter's long pace, and he found himself admiring her full breasts, nipples plainly visible through the top's thin fabric. A speculative smile bared J'Bon's teeth, and he thought, Winning this one might be good for more than just the chance to throw it in Radm's face.

  Then, in a single easy gesture, Valcyr pulled her top over her head and tossed it aside. "We

  do want to make this as...hard as possible, don't we?"

  J'Bon felt his jaw drop.

  She reached out to take the oil bottle from his nerveless fingers, murmured a thank-you, turned with a roll of her ass, and walked off. J'Bon, speechless, could only watch her lean legs scissor in her stride.

  On the opposite side of the wide red circle painted on the deck -- the Dome's dueling ground -- Valcyr paused and lifted the bottle. Casually, she squirted a shimmering stream of oil across her chest and along one arm, then began briskly smoothing it down her shoulder to her wrist. J'Bon swallowed, watching her breasts bob as forgotten oily streamers rolled like pearls down their gentle contours. One drop clung, glinting, to a pert nipple as he felt his cock lengthening. He had, he thought through his hunger, underestimated her badly.

  Valcyr had always struck him as being cooly, untouchably virginal. Beautiful, perhaps, but about as sexually exciting as vanilla ice cream. He should have realized that to have kept Radm --whom he had always pegged as a sensualist -- she'd have to be anything but the boring little innocent he'd imagined.

  She seemed maddeningly oblivious to him now as she stroked the oil across her midriff. He waited hungrily for her to reach up and touch those breasts, to stroke oiled fingertips over the hard nubbins. Instead she bent to begin working on her long legs, rubbing her hands up and down her thighs. And still, she seemed totally unaware of his hungry eyes.

  He instantly decided she wasn't going to ignore him for long.

  Valcyr heard him approach, but concentrated on coating her calves evenly. She'd put on this show so her victory would be even more frustrating to J'Bon; she simply couldn't resist hacking at that huge ego. Unfortunately, the trick had backfired--she was beginning to get hot herself. Not that she'd let him know that...

  Suddenly she felt a large, warm hand descend onto her back, and she quickly straightened to glare. J'Bon met her eyes with a credible imitation of innocence.

  "I thought I'd help you with your back."

  Fighting a grin at his twist on her
game, Valcyr relaxed and let his hands smooth the oil down her spine. The warmth of J'Bon's skin was seductive, and she slitted her eyes in pleasure. Then his hands slipped around her ribcage to brazenly cup her breasts as he crowded his erection against her ass. "Ready, Val?" J'Bon purred. "I certainly am."

  She twisted neatly out of his hold and turned, drawing the foot-long knife from its hip sheathe. Valcyr smiled. "Oh, I'm ready, all right."

  She sauntered into the dueling circle and fell into a combat crouch, the knife glinting. "You want me, 'Bon? Come get me."

  J'Bon bared his teeth and came in low -- normally a stupid move against a knife, but his sensors said Valcyr wanted him as badly as he wanted her; he didn't expect more than token resistance.

  He realized his mistake when he saw her lunge in a blur of steel and long muscle. Twisting aside, J'Bon escaped her attack so narrowly the blade dug a red path across his chest. He grabbed for her, but missed as she kept on going past him. Whirling for a slash he barely avoided, she asked with a white flash of a smile, "You didn't really think I was going to be that easy, did you?"

  J'Bon answered her with a standing backflip, kicking up in a blow that clipped her chin. She stumbled, and J'Bon, hitting the deck on his back, snapped his legs up to encircle her waist. Jerking her down, he rolled her over into a wrestling hold. Apparently stunned, she lay limp between his hands as he lowered his head and took one of her beaded bare nipples into his mouth. Sensors alert for retaliation, J’Bon began sucking greedily; the oil had a sweet taste.

  Shaking the sparks from her head, Valcyr realized she was flat on her back, an arousing suction at one breast. She looked down and saw her opponent's dark head. Stirring in hazy protest, she realized he had her pinned just as he released her left wrist to reach for her briefs. Her mind snapped to full clarity.

  Instinctively, Valcyr stiffened the fingers of one hand and drove a nerve strike into his ribs. J'Bon's breath whooshed at the blazing arrow of pain, and she threw him easily. With a triumphant whoop, Valcyr pounced after him, the knife raised for a strike. He saw her coming and rolled away from the descending blade, then leaped to his feet with a curse.

  Backpedaling clear of a second slash, J'Bon swiped a hand across the long cut she'd inflicted on his arm. His fingers came away smeared with blood, and he looked down at them for a bare heartbeat. When his head came up, his eyes were sparking with hot rage.

  And Valcyr knew he wasn't playing anymore.

  Suddenly he launched a flying kick that would have taken her out if it had landed. As it was, she barely had time to duck, though she did get in another vicious slash across his thigh as he passed overhead. Despite the pain he must have felt, J'Bon landed neatly -- and ripped off his fighter's briefs. Valcyr blinked at the size of his erection and the fury on his face as he turned and scooped up the oil bottle lying nearby.

  Deliberately, J'Bon squirted it down the length of his hard shaft, standing there as if uncaring that she crouched a meter away with a knife as long as his forearm. He was all erotic arrogance in that instant--magnificently naked, blood snaking along muscled contours, oil gleaming on his skin and dripping from his cock. Valcyr shook her head in silent admiration. Then she drove at him.

  In a blur, his hand came up and across with the bottle, shooting a shining stream. Valcyr jerked her head aside. That instinct saved her eyes from the oil that splashed one cheek--but it also left her open to J'Bon's brutal punch to the jaw. The impact spun her around and dropped her.

  She must have blacked out for an instant, because her next awareness was of the deck, cool against her cheek. J'Bon was on top of her, his chest pressed against her back, his thighs crowded against hers. Valcyr felt a jerk and heard the sound of tearing fabric, and knew he'd just stripped her.

  But the knife was still in her hand.

  She twisted with it, feeling something nudge against her buttocks. Aiming the blade at a spot between his ribs, she prepared to thrust...

  Just as his cock forced its way into the tiny opening of her anus.

  "First penetration, Val," he growled.

  With a defeated groan, she dropped the knife. It would be dishonorable to fight any longer, but she knew J'Bon wouldn't be generous in his victory. She steeled herself to endure.

  Grinning savagely, J'Bon began to work his cock deeper into Valcyr's tight asshole. She made no sound at all, which probably meant he was hurting her...but just now he couldn't care less. She'd pissed him off, he'd beaten her, and he was going to enjoy his conquest.

  Ah, but she felt so good lying under him, narrow and soft and muscular all at once, skin like silk and an ass like a virgin. Winning always made him hard, but this was the first time he'd ever had the chance to fuck his defeated opponent. And it was incredibly erotic.

  He paused an instant, shuttering his eyes in ecstasy, buried in her to the balls. Her muscles

  were clenched in protest, and the grip on his cock was pure painful pleasure. It occurred to J'Bon again that she was probably hurting, and the thought began to bother him. He'd won; there was no real reason to inflict any more pain.

  On the other hand, there was no way he was going to withdraw from that luscious ass of hers, either.

  He reached under Valcyr, one hand going to her slick nipples, the other sliding down her body to the soft dark curls between her thighs. J'Bon sought between them until he located her clit, then, bracing against her, he began fucking her ass as he caressed it. For several long moments, her body was rigid with pain and tension under his, but J'Bon was not discouraged. Gradually she began to respond to his coaxing fingers, her asshole surrendering to his invasion, nipples hardening. He smiled, resting his cheek against her back as he fought to rein his eager lust to a slow and relentless pace.

  Valcyr made a soft sound deep in her throat. Her hips made one swift upward grind against his, then stilled. Grinning, he stroked her clit, managing to thrust a forefinger into her rapidly creaming cunt. She shuddered deliciously. Her ass lifted to him again, paused, then finally began to match his buggering thrusts. His grin broadened.

  Valcyr moaned at the invasion of J'Bon's long cock, its thick pressure filling her interior with a dizzying combination of pleasure and pain. His fingers tipped the balance, though, spinning delight around her clit with teasing circles. It was a bit demeaning, but she had to admit she was beginning to enjoy the whole thing. Trust the sonofabitch to find a way to make her like losing to him. She shuddered, feeling the slow build of an approaching climax.

  Sensing that, J'Bon thrust so deep that her orgasm pumped through her in white fire, a keening cry tearing between her teeth.

  Valcyr bucked under him, grinding her firm ass against his pelvis, her cry sounding like agony as much as pleasure. The sound arrowed straight to J'Bon's head, and he let go, pistoning in and out of her body. He heard her scream again, in protest or delight, he couldn't tell which -- and didn't care. His only thought was the feel of her around him, and a single image, white hot, of her crouching with the knife in her hand, a smear of his blood on her cheek.

  "I'm going to tell him about this," J'Bon snarled in her ear, shafting her with all his strength until she jerked with the impact of his thrusts. "I'm going to tell him how tight your ass is and how sweet it was to fuck it. I'm going to tell him how you surrendered..."

  As the words left him, he felt his climax build in his balls like a wall of fire. He rammed deep, and it broke loose to sear straight up into his skull.

  J'Bon roared his triumph and pleasure.

  ***

  He stood in the dome's shower, feeling the tiny needle jets hit him from all directions. The water was hot and soothing, and his body felt boneless in its utter relaxation. J'Bon wondered idly whether Valcyr would be waiting for him when he got out. He'd asked her to, but she'd said nothing at all. She was probably royally pissed off; he had seen something hot in her amber eyes. Not about the sex--by cycop standards, he'd been generous during their duel. Losing a knife fight would have been far more painful
for her.

  No, it was probably his threat about Radm that had angered her. Actually, he wasn't sure whether he was going to carry through with that. Valcyr had been a thoroughly delicious fuck; he had no desire to ruin it for her with an unpleasant aftermath.

  Then again, he truly hated Radm's guts. This was a wonderful opportunity to stick it to the bastard, and he wasn't sure he could pass up on...

  Suddenly something seized J'Bon, picked him up off the deck and slammed him down on his back. Before he had time to do more than blink, Valcyr was kneeling astride his chest, pinning his wrists with a strength born of overdrive. Her narrowed eyes glared down at him, gone from soft amber to the yellow stare of a hawk, her pupils shrunk to pinpoints. It occurred to him that he was about to be put in regen.

  Automatically, he started to order overdrive -- but stopped as her grip tightened until bones ground. "I wouldn't," Valcyr warned, her voice low and dangerous.

  "Is there a problem?" he asked cooly.

  She grinned. There might have been real humor in the expression, but the chill frenzy of overdrive rendered it menacing.

  "Yes," she said. "I don't deny you beat me fairly. I don't even object to the way you took me; it was a bit rough, but I would have done worse to you if I'd won." She paused, and even the pretense of amusement left her face, leaving it cold and hard. "But I do object to your attitude. I am a cycop, by God, and I am entitled to respect from you even in defeat. Instead, you tried to degrade me. And I think you need a lesson in manners."

  "Yeah? What do you have in mind, Val? Another duel ... or a garden variety beating?" he asked mockingly, then added with an edge of menace, "Though in either case you won't find me easy prey."

  "Actually, I'm counting on your being quite hard." Valcyr gave him a grin that bordered on feral.

  It was all he could do not to wince at the strength of her hands as she rose, dragging his wrists upward. Making an insult out of it, she turned and straddled him again, drawing his wrists between her legs. Then Valcyr sat down across his chest, her thighs clamping his arms against his rib cage as she released her grip on them. He found himself gazing, bemused, between her widely spread thighs as she stretched out, head down, along his body.