Chapter 1: Rek

I have to admit, I’m not exactly thrilled by the prospect of meeting our new Warp companion in this club. To call it seedy would be an understatement. As soon as I walk through the door, my nostrils are hit with the smell of cheap liquor and casual sex. Pounding music shakes the darkness, setting the tempo for the topless dancers writhing for credbits on their little spotlit platforms in the center of the room. Loud as it is, however, the headache-inducing drum-and-bass doesn’t quite drown out the other raucous sounds bubbling out from the hazy shadows--a peal of drunken laughter, a glass breaking, a fight.

Yeah. Definitely not the kind of place I would usually look for a companion.

But today I have no choice.

The companion Traven and I usually employ when we visit this sector was already engaged with another set of clients, and she won’t be back for several weeks. Our second choice is out sick. Our third got cold feet and backed out at the last minute, leaving us high and dry.

If we’re going to meet our delivery schedule, we have to leave today, and there’s no way in hell we’re going through the Warpgate without a companion on board. We tried that once, a few cycles back.

Never again.

So, here I am in this dirty club, meeting our Plan D.

I found her on WarpSeekers.com, the website Traven and I use to meet new companions. Her handle is Binxxx, and just in case the three Xs in her name didn’t make it clear what she’s about, her profile was one of the dirtiest I’ve read in a while. Never spits, always swallows. Loves taking it up the ass. Specializes in getting drilled by two cocks at the same time.

Thirsty. Experienced. Super submissive.

All in all, a good fit for Traven’s and my interests.

Of course, Traven disagreed. He said her profile sounded tryhard, like she’d written what she thought a warper wanted to hear, rather than what she actually wanted. Traven’s usually a pretty good judge of character. As a matter of fact, he’s never wrong. But when I reminded him of the pickle we were in, he reluctantly agreed.

I knew he would.

Traven might be a hardass, but he’s a predictable hardass. It’s one of the reasons I like working with him. No clue why he likes working with me, but I guess he does. We’ve been warping together for over ten cycles now. We make a pretty good team. He’s what you would call no-nonsense, but to make a living in this crazy galaxy, you gotta be willing to put up with a certain amount of nonsense, and that’s where I come in.

This club’s a good example. Traven wouldn’t last two minutes in this joint. Or, more accurately, this place would last two minutes with Traven inside it.

It was Binxxx who suggested we meet here. I was kind of hoping she would be sitting close to the front door. No such luck. I decide to take a lap around the place to see if I can spot her. Based on her profile pic, she has dark hair, collagen-enhanced DSLs, and the biggest pair of bolt-on tits I’ve ever seen.

Maybe she’ll spot me first. She’s seen my photos on WarpSeekers, so she knows what I look like too: six ten, athletic, pale blue skin touched with silver. Those are all fairly typical characteristics for a seasoned warper like myself. My more distinguishing features would be my dark hair and short, black beard. I also let her know what I’d be wearing--black boots, black jeans, and a black shirt with sleeves short enough to display the tattoo encircling my right upper arm, proof of my membership in the Warper’s Guild.

I’ve been told before that I look imposing. If that’s true, then Traven looks downright terrifying. That’s another reason why he’s still back on the ship, and I’m the one doing the meet-and-greet in this dump.

It ain’t easy being the nice one.

As I make my way toward the bar at the back of the room, the dancers wiggle at me, displaying the barcodes tattooed on their asses in the hopes that I’ll scan them a few credbits. I ignore them and keep moving.

Glancing into the booths around the sides of the room, I see a woman who looks a lot like the one I’m looking for, but she’s already taken. She’s nestled up against a big, burly warper like myself, happily petting the sizable bulge at the front of his jeans. As I move past, she discreetly slides her whole body under the table, and positions herself between his legs.

I think it’s a safe bet she’s not looking for a missing earring under there.

A burst of noise from the other side of the room grabs my attention. A pair of warpers are standing next to a pool table, arguing. I can’t quite hear what they’re saying over the music, but I have a feeling it has something to do with the buxom blonde perched on the table between them.

In the blink of an eye, the argument turns physical. One of the men hits the other over the head with a pool cue. The stick snaps, and the end of it comes whirling in my direction like a miniature helicopter blade.

My reflexes kick in, and I catch the spinning piece of wood before it hits me in the face. The two warpers don’t even notice. They’re too busy beating the hell out of each other while the blonde looks on.

Those guys are lucky I’m not Traven.

If he was here right now, that broken-off piece of pool cue would be going up someone’s ass. Literally.

Me, I’m a little more even tempered than that. I just set the piece of wood on a table next to me and keep moving.

Until a woman’s hand catches me by the wrist.

And a voice catches me by the balls.

“Rek?”

It is the softest, sweetest voice I’ve ever heard in my fucking life. That voice alone is enough to make my heart start pounding like I just spent an hour on the treadmill doing wind sprints. Sweat breaks out on my skin, and my cock goes hard in my britches. I think I could probably come just from listening to that voice. I wouldn’t even need to use my hands to make it happen. All she would have to do is beg for it, and it would come gushing out.

I turn my eyes in the direction of the voice, and my heart stops.

This is not who I came here to meet.

Is it?

She does have dark hair, and she’s definitely curvy too, despite her best efforts to hide her body beneath that loose-fitting trench coat she’s wearing. But my instincts tell me those curves are all natural, no surgical enhancements here. Same goes for the luscious, pink lips that are trembling ever so slightly as she stares up at me from her chair.

I can’t tell what color her eyes are, because they’re hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. Then again, I can’t remember what color Binxxx’s eyes are supposed to be. I wasn’t exactly paying attention to that detail of her picture, but now I’m interested. Real interested.

“I’m Rek,” I tell her. “Are you...?”

She must see the confusion written on my face, because nods and forces a smile--a far prettier smile than the one I saw in her profile pic. The music goes quiet for a moment as the DJ switches between songs, and she takes the opportunity to answer me with a whisper.

“It’s me,” she says. “I’m Binx.”

Based on the way she says it, I know it’s only spelled with one X. Her voice is far too sweet and innocent to have three Xs attached to it.

The thoughts racing through my head, on the other hand, have all the Xs attached. I’m thinking of all the things I’d like to do with those perfect lips of hers.

I’m also wondering why a woman who looks like this would use fake photos on a dating site. Her profile pic wasn’t simply doctored or put through a filter. It was literally a different person. That fact alone ought to be raising all sorts of red flags.

But right now, the only thing raising is my cock.

Before I can ask any questions, Binx springs up from her seat and places a small, soft hand against my arm, right over my tattoo. With her other hand, she takes off her shades, and I’m greeted by a pair of eyes so blue they damn near glow in the dark. Those eyes sweep away the last vestiges of suspicion from my mind.

I don’t care if this woman is trouble. She’s my trouble now.

Mine and Traven’s.

There are only two things that matter to me now. The first is protecting Binx from whatever it is she’s obviously running from. The second is hearing her scream with pleasure as I fill her with my cock. Both of those goals would be better served in a different, more private venue.

As if reading my mind, Binx says, “Can we get out of here?”

It’s all I can do to keep from slinging her over my shoulder like a caveman and carrying her out the door.

“My ship’s parked right around the corner,” I tell her.

She links her arm around mine.

“Lead the way...”

To be continued!
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