“Thanks for that,” the woman says as she pulls a pair of panties from her satchel. Red lace. Definitely not prison-issue. “I don’t mean the orgasms. Though those were amazing.” And they were what she needed. So, what is she thanking me for?

I dispose of the condom and pour a little water on one of my rags so I can wipe myself off. There’s one other rag in my pack, and I wet it and offer it to her. She turns away from me to clean herself up.

“But I mean thanks for not making me beg for it. That’s the worst part of that damn drug,” the woman says as she steps into the bright red underwear, then pulls her stretchy pants back on.

Mallory. Her name is Mallory.

I give her a puzzled look as I button my pants. I don’t understand.

“Oh, jeez. Okay, how do I explain? This is the first time I’ve been out in the open since I got to Rhodon. During in-processing on my first day, they pulled me and one of the other girls aside. While everyone else was getting backpacks and supplies, this other girl, Lilli—she and I got shoved into the showers. They told us to strip down, scrub up, and remove all our body hair. Then they brought us down here to the surface and threw us into this dorm room with a bunch of other girls at the Resort. They rented us out several nights a week. But you probably figured that out.”

I give her a grim nod, but inside, my blood is boiling. No matter what she did to get sent here, she doesn’t deserve that.

She frowns at my expression. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not awesome, but it’s not so different from before I got here. At least at the Resort we were guaranteed food and hot showers, which obviously isn’t the case out here. And the ‘guests’ mostly wanted ordinary stuff. Most of them didn’t even hit us.” She shrugs, as if that’s the most normal thing in the world to be happy about.

I shake her blanket out, then I spread it on the ground again and sink onto it. I take a meal packet from my bag, then I pull one from her satchel and set it on the blanket next to me.

Mallory shrugs and takes a seat. “Anyway,” she continues as she rips into her packet. “A few months ago, this girl named Maci basically ended the whole Resort. I never found out how. She and the other women escaped into zone three. Is that where I am now?”

I nod as I tear open a packet of vegetarian pasta. But that makes no sense. I want to ask her how many women escaped. If there were more than a few, I should have seen them. I can’t imagine they wouldn’t have shown up in the city, flooding the market with a welcome new currency.

“But I…didn’t make it,” she continues, and I can see that there’s something she’s leaving out. Not that it’s any of my business. “I got caught. They stuck me in a cell up on Station Alpha, and they’ve been renting me out ever since. Mostly to guards. Twice to the warden, though I don’t think he actually pays. But yesterday, the fights started up again. At the arena. You know about— Wait, of course you do. You fought there, right?”

Another nod, while I dig a bite from my pouch.

“So there was a party on the blimp. Have you been on the blimp?”

I give her a disgusted grunt in the affirmative.

“Tell me about it. Last night, this couple named Gerald and Phoebe rented me. They came in early, for some kind of flyover tour. At first, they were nice. They handcuffed me to the bed, but I figured that was just for some kind of normal kink. Then they shot me up with something from a pneumatic injector. I thought I was going to get high, and that would have been fine. Sometimes that makes it easier, you know?

“But I didn’t get high. I just got really, miserably…needy. Turns out the handcuffs were to keep me from…taking my own relief. Which I normally wouldn’t even consider doing in front of a stranger.” Mallory shrugs, and finally she takes a bite of her chicken noodle stew. “But after a little while, you need it so badly. And it’s not about sex. It’s about relief. About making it all go away, even if that’s just for a little while. Because after an hour or so, everything starts to hurt. Your muscles ache, and not just those muscles. It's all of them. I think that’s from the tension. Because you can’t relax, you know?”

An hour. They kept her miserable and begging for more than an hour.

What little flavor my pasta had is gone now. I may as well be chewing wet cardboard.

“And they would make it worse.” Mallory swallows her bite and continues, and I want to stop her. To tell her I’ve heard enough. But she wouldn’t still be talking if she didn’t need to say this. “They would touch me, but just a little. They’d stop before I could come. So they could hear me beg. And I did. God, did I beg. I couldn’t help it. By then it had been hours, and I was so desperate I couldn’t control my arms. I kept pulling at the cuffs, trying to reach down and…make it stop. I couldn’t quit squirming. I couldn’t think about anything else. Every muscle in my body ached. And the whole time, Gerald and Phoebe are going at it right next to me on the bed. Getting each other off over and over. Between rounds, they’d stroke me with feathers, or a silk scarf. Just enough contact to make me cry and beg them to finish it.

“I hated them. But they made me beg until I hated myself too.” Her words fade into a silence that feels strange, now that I’m used to her voice. “But you didn’t do that,” she whispers.

Mallory shakes her head, as if she’s shaking off the whole experience. As if talking about it is enough to purge it from her mind. She takes several more big bites, then she turns to me, and her eyes are dry. “I’m sorry. I promised I wouldn’t talk your ear off, if you let me stay. And all I really meant to say was thank you for not making me beg. For letting me keep my dignity.”

A familiar warmth washes over me, and I start to reach for her out of habit.

No. That’s not it. I’ve only known her for an hour. I haven’t had time to form any habits. So then, why do I want to hold her? Why do I want to brush hair back from her face and kiss her until she smiles?

Oh, no. No, no, no. She is not Norah.

I do not want her.

I cannot have her.

Fuck. Me.

After we eat, Mallory digs into her satchel, prattling on about everything she finds in it. Evidently she didn’t have time to go through the contents before she stole it. “Yes!” She pulls out a disposable toothbrush, still sealed in its packet. “There’s mouthwash too. And…makeup. I don’t have much use for that, out here. Damn. There’s no toothpaste.”

I pull a tube from my bag and hand it to her. We brush our teeth and rinse with purified water from one of the pouches I filled when Cody and I came across a stream yesterday. Then we relieve ourselves and I spread out the doubled-over bedsheet I carry, for nights I can’t make it back to my place.

Mallory curls up on her blanket with her hands folded beneath her cheek. Firelight flickers over her skin, and I notice that she’s starting to sweat again. And her posture is tense.

She’s pressing her legs together.

Damn. How much of that shit did they give her?

I don’t know how to ask her if she needs me again. So I decide to wait and let her approach me.

Instead, after we’ve both laid down for the night, she rolls away from me, and I hear her sniffling. I want to tell her that it’s okay for her to touch herself. That I won’t watch, and I’ll try not to listen. But if I speak, all she will hear is garbled nonsense.

Fuck my useless tongue.

Wait. My tongue isn’t entirely useless. It still knows how to swallow my food. And it still knows how to lick.

The sniffles stop when she hears me stand. Her spine stiffens. It doesn’t occur to me that she might not want me again—maybe that’s why she rolled away—until my hand is on her shoulder.

Mallory twists and looks up at me. Her brown eyes are magnified by the tears standing in them and they’re shiny in the flickering firelight. She blinks, and those tears spill down her cheeks into the long, dark hair spread out beneath her on the blanket.

Something deep inside me aches. A memory brushes against the firewall in my head, but I shove it back.

Mallory. Her name is Mallory.

I don’t know how to offer myself to her without the risk that she’ll think I’m taking. I can only hope that she understands by now that I would never do that. That if I go slow enough, she’ll have plenty of time to stop me, if this isn’t what she wants.

I run one hand down her arm, over the silky material of a blouse she evidently stole from a sadist named Phoebe. I hold her gaze, my brows arched in silent question.

“You want something?” she whispers, and I shake my head. Then I point at her. “You’re asking if I want something?”

I nod.

She sniffles again. “It’s not want, exactly. But no, I can’t ask you to do that again. That’s not fair to you.”

I snort, letting her see the amusement in my eyes. She actually laughs, and the sound tugs at something—

No. Here and now. There is only here and now. And Mallory.

I slide my hand from her arm onto her stomach, watching her face. Waiting for her to object. She catches her breath when my fingers skim the bare skin beneath her navel. Just above the elastic waist of her pants. But she doesn’t stop me.

She groans when I slide my hands beneath her waistband, one on either side of her body. Her hips thrust toward me and she laughs nervously. “Sorry. I’m a little eager. But you really don’t have to—”

I shush her with one finger over my lips. Then I slowly slide her pants over her hips. The red panties are hot, but they don’t seem like something she’d choose for herself. Not that I know her well enough to assume that. Yet I kind of think I do.

I slide the red lace down, and my cock twitches in my pants. She’s bare. I didn’t really look at her before. I was trying to give her as much privacy as possible, considering. But now that I’ve seen her, I can’t look away.

Mallory props herself up on her elbows, her stomach muscles shaking with anticipation. Or…urgency. I can’t imagine how she must feel.

I can’t imagine how badly this would have gone for her, if someone else had found her. Someone like Cody.

I run my hands down the outsides of her thighs, and she opens them for me. Her skin is soft and smooth. Fragrant from some kind of expensive soap, despite the time she’s now spent in the woods. And between those thighs…

She’s flushed and swollen. Glistening. Practically dripping. She can’t help that, but neither can I help responding to it. I haven’t tasted a woman since—

No.

Here and now.

Mallory.

I lower my face between her legs, and she gasps when she realizes what I have in mind. She squirms beneath me and her breathing quickens, taking on a demonstrable sense of urgency.

I remember this drug. There’s a very thin line between misery and ecstasy, and she’s straddling it right now. She just needs a little push. The longer she goes without it, the more miserable she will become. She’s already as tense as a spring under pressure.

Her scent surrounds me as I take my first taste, licking slowly up from her center toward her poor, swollen clit. “Oh, god,” she moans. Her fists clench in the blanket beneath us. “Please. Barrett, please.”

My name on her tongue makes my cock twitch again. I didn’t mean to make her beg. So I start licking in earnest, spreading her wide with both my thumbs. She makes the most amazing noises. Soft little gasps, punctuated by moans when I do something really right. And “really right” seems to be direct clitoral contact. No cute, careful circles. No teasing. Mallory is ready, and she needs to come.

I alternate sucking on her clit and flicking my tongue over it, and her thighs tense on either side of my face. She groans, and I can feel her quiver beneath me.

I slide two fingers inside her, and her hips buck upward, demanding more. As I stroke her and lick her, I can feel the tension in her body building. Her spine arches. Her hands clench the blanket so tight she’s pulled it taut beneath us. And finally, her gasps reach a zenith and her body clenches around my fingers as she claims the most well-deserved release in history.

I keep licking, plunging into her until she collapses on the blanket. “Thank you. Fuck, thank you,” she breathes. Then she moans as I slowly withdraw my fingers. I sit on my knees at the end of the blanket, between her thighs, staring down at her. She’s flushed all over and glowing in the flicker of firelight. She looks like some kind of goddess made of blazing light.

When she notices me watching, she sits up and holds my gaze for a second. “Seriously. Thank you.” Then she reaches for my waistband.

My hand closes over hers, stopping her.

She frowns. “But what about you? I owe you, and I give a mean blowjob.”

I shake my head, and her frown deepens.

“Seriously. I don’t mind,” she says. But I shake my head again. I don’t want her mouth on my cock unless her opinion on the subject is a bit stronger than simply not minding. “Okay, then, why don’t you lie back and let me ride you again?”

I shake my head as I stand, and her gaze snags on the bulge in my pants. Damn it. I guess there’s no sense pretending I don’t want her.

“Barrett.” There’s something off in her voice. Something…painful. “I already owe you so much. Please don’t let my debt pile up. That makes me feel like—”

I shake my head. There is no debt. But I can’t tell whether or not she understands.

“Okay, but the truth is that I actually need one more go, so you’d really be doing me a favor. Again.”

She’s not lying. Gerald and Phoebe really screwed her over. But she is twisting the situation to her advantage. Which is ironic, considering that she’s actually trying to twist it to my advantage.

“Please. Please, Barrett.” She reaches into her satchel and pulls out another condom. “Let this be for you, too. I know you’re up for it. I can see that.”

She’s right. But it’s my name that does it. I need to hear her say it again, and the only foolproof plan for that is to make her come on my cock.

And just like that, my little head has overruled my big one.

Mallory is still waiting for an answer. I nod at her, and she smiles in triumph. Then she gestures at the blanket, clearly expecting me to lie down again. To let her ride me with my hands folded behind my head. But if we’re going to do this again—if she truly wants me—we’re going to do it my way this time.

I unbutton my pants and push them down, along with my underwear. Her eyes widen at the sight of my erection, and I realize she didn’t look before, either. “Whoa.” She laughs, and the sound trips through me like a fountain over a bed of rocks, lighting me up everywhere it touches me. “I’m kinda glad I already know I can take that thing.”

Me too.

I reach for her, but she steps back, still smiling. “Shirt, too. Let me see the guns, gladiator.”

I give her an amused grunt. Then I pull my shirt off and drop it on the ground.

Mallory’s smile fades. “Holy shit. She lets her hands skim over my chest, playing in a light sprinkling of hair they always used to make me remove, before a fight. “You’re…beautiful.”

I roll my eyes at her, but she doesn’t notice, because she’s running her hands down my arms now. “People are scared of you, aren’t they?” There’s a wistful note in her voice. “They’re never scared of me.”

But I’m scared of her. Right now, I’m fucking terrified of how badly I want her. I should never have let her follow me. I shouldn’t be with her right now. But since I am…

She squeals when I take the condom and lift her into a cradle hold, her warm, bare legs draped over my left arm. I kneel and set her on the blanket, then I slide my hands up her sides, beneath the material of her open blouse. When I get to her shoulders, I continue down her arms, dragging the thin fabric with me until it falls off.

Already breathing hard again, Mallory folds the blouse in half, then rolls it up and sets it in the mouth of her open satchel, out of the dirt. Then she crosses her arms over her chest and pulls her stolen sports bra off over her head. Her dark hair settles down her back and over her shoulders, just teasing the peaks of her beautiful, round breasts.

I have to taste them.

As I lean toward her, Mallory lies back on the blanket, her pink nipples already forming hard points. I gather her right breast in one hand and take the peak in my mouth, as my free hand slides down her stomach. She moans, arching toward my mouth as she opens her legs for me. She’s already wet again. I circle her clit, then let my hand slide farther down, teasing her entrance with just the tip of one finger.

Mallory groans. “Hey big guy? I’m gonna need more than fingers this time. Okay?” But despite her casual phrasing, her voice holds a calculated, beguiling appeal. As badly as she needs this, she seems determined that I get off too.

Who am I to argue?

In reply, I give her nipple a gentle bite. Then I rip open the condom and roll it on. I lower myself over her, between her still-scalding thighs, and slide into her slowly, experiencing every inch this time, since I’ve already taken the edge off for her. She’s wet, and tight, and so hot. I know the drug raises her body temperature, but I can’t help thinking some of this is just Mallory.

She winces when I hit the end, and I pull back a little. “No, it’s okay,” she insists. But it’s not. I don’t want to hurt her.

We can work up to the full length. Somehow, I don’t think that’ll take long.

She wraps her legs around my hips, and I pull most of the way out, only to sink back into her. Faster this time.

“God, you feel good,” she whispers, running one hand down my side. I wish I could tell her that she feels amazing. I wish I could tell her any fucking thing in the world.

Instead, I show her.

I lower myself onto my elbows and nibble my way up her neck as I thrust into her. She turns her head to give me more room. Her legs tighten around my hips and she arches up into me, taking me deeper. Harder.

She’s aroused enough now to take all of me, like before, and for the first time in my life, I wish there were more of me to give.

I came an hour ago. I should be able to make this one last. But maybe one meal isn’t enough to make up for famine. Or maybe there’s something about Mallory. Her hungry little body seems determined to suck me dry, and I can already feel my climax coming.

I slow, trying to put it off, but she groans beneath me. She wants it now. All of it. She has no patience, and I wonder how much of that is the drug, and how much of it is just Mallory. I would love to find out.

No. I think it so hard I actually shake my head, but her eyes are closed. She doesn’t notice.

This isn’t long-term. It isn’t even short-term. It can’t be. She’s not safe with me, so this is just until the drug is through her system. Until I can find someplace safe to leave her. Someone safe to leave her with.

She thrusts up, hard, and I slide my hand under her ass, pulling her toward me. Angling myself deeper. Then I let it all go. I have no past, and the future is a problem for tomorrow. Right now, there is only me, and sweet, chatty little Mallory, making the best of a shitty situation, and bringing me along for the ride.

I take her hard and fast while she clings to me, breathing in hot little pants. Her nails dig into my sides. Her heels dig into my lower back. Then her pants become a rapid series of gasps. “Oh god, Barrett,” she groans, and I come the moment I hear my name on her tongue, slamming into her so hard I’m afraid I’m going to hurt her. But her sounds are all happy sounds. Hungry, needy sounds. Then…satisfied sounds.

She looks up at me, her hair lying wild on the blanket beneath her. She blinks, and her eyes seem to focus on me suddenly, while her body spasms the last of its aftershocks around my still-stiff cock. “Barrett?” she whispers, and I arch one brow at her. “That was good, right? You liked that?”

I nod as I pull out of her and reach for my pack. Of course I fucking liked it. I take off the condom and clean myself up, then I step into my pants without bothering with my underwear.

“So, maybe I could stay? With you?” Firelight dances in her huge eyes. “I promise I won’t eat much. And I’ll earn my keep. Not just like that.” She glances at my crotch. “I’m a hard worker. And I never complain.”

Fuck, she’s breaking my heart. She should complain about what’s been done to her. And she shouldn’t be trying to sell herself to me. I’m not like Gerald and Phoebe. I’m not even like Cody.

I hand her her pants. It gets very cold here at night, and as soon as the drug has left her system—as soon as her body temperature drops into the normal range—she’s going to feel that.

“It’s just that…I’m not safe here on my own,” she says as she pulls the pants on. “In zone three. There’s a man here who wants to kill me.”

There are men here who will want to do much more than that to her. And if she keeps throwing herself at men in exchange for food and protection, she’s going to get passed around. Used until she breaks.

She thinks I can prevent that, but she has no idea how wrong she is.

I’m the worst thing that could possibly happen to her.