Kiss the Clones Read online

  Kiss the

  Clones

  Emma Abbiss

  Kiss the Clones

  Copyright © 2018 by Emma Abbiss

  ISBN: 978-0-6483473-5-4

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2018

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Q~Press Publishing

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter One

  With careful movements, Aden fastened the tabs on his pants over his growing erection. Just thinking about Sera made him hard. He paused to check the reflector to see if his excitement was obvious and noticed his double, Oren, slouching in the doorway.

  “Who is she?” Oren asked. Noisy bastard. The door slid closed with a light hiss as he stepped into the room.

  Aden busied himself with straightening his silver-blue shirt—Sera’s favorite because it matched his eyes—wishing for the millionth time that Thabor tradition allowed unmated males to move out of their family home so he wouldn’t have to have this conversation—it wasn’t like they were a real family anyway.

  Oren wasn’t Aden’s brother but his clone. And they weren’t their father’s sons but the designer clones their original had ordered from True You Labs, a fashionable cloning facility for the rich and egotistical. If only they’d been born into a real family.

  “What tipped you off?” he asked letting sarcasm ride his voice as he tucked Sera’s anniversary present into his front pocket.

  “You mean besides the tent in your pants?” Oren gave a grim smile, the same one he used to convince criminals to talk, the same one Aden could never master even though they were each other’s double. “Well, there’s also the fact that you’ve been dressing like you actually give a shit.”

  Aden snorted. “High praise coming from your conceited ass.”

  “Don’t try to derail me. Won’t work. You’re talking to one of the city’s finest enforcers.” He plopped down into a silver hover chair and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “You’ve obviously caught a female. It’s been over two months since you’ve joined me to hunt prey and your dick’s still in working order.”

  Aden sighed.

  Leave it to Oren to point out the obvious. Thabor physiology dictated that everything from musculature to eyesight to sexual organs had to be maintained or they’d atrophy in about twenty days. Use it or lose it.

  “Her name’s Sera.” Aden raked a hand through his hair.

  “You’ve bonded with her.” It was a statement not a question but Aden nodded anyway. He’d begun bonding with Sera almost as soon as he’d met her. Everything in him had recognized her as his potential mate.

  “I knew you’d found someone, Aden, probably before you did. I’m hurt that you didn’t confide in me.”

  Shit. He should have known Oren would sense the bond he’d forged with Sera; he was a law enforcer, which meant he’d been trained to pick up on the small details.

  Their original’s mate had been like that too, which meant she’d known each and every time her mate had been disloyal to her. Growing up, Aden had always wondered why she had stayed with their original, why she had raised his clone children instead of birthing sons of her own. A year before they became legal adults, she’d left and bonded with a new mate.

  Aden missed her kindness but didn’t blame her for leaving. He’d do the same given the chance. He grimaced. “Does our original know?”

  “Hard to say what Wathan does and does not know. Though why he’d care…” Oren let the thought drift off.

  Wathan would care if he could use the information to hurt Aden, which was one of the main reasons Aden had kept Sera a secret for so long, but he didn’t say that aloud. Oren knew their original’s perverse nature as well as he did, could guess Aden’s reasons for keeping his relationship a secret.

  “If you want to talk about her.” Oren let the offer hang between them.

  “I will,” Aden said as he left the room. “Just…not tonight. I’m already late.”

  Twelve minutes later, Sera greeted him with an open smile that lit her burnt-orange eyes to glowing embers.

  “Turi, Aden’s here. I’ve got to go.” She pointed to the tiny p-comm attached to her earlobe. “Okay, I’ll meet you at the Steel Trap on Venurday. Bye.”

  Aden stepped forward. She tapped her p-comm off, went up on her toes, and tilted her face back to meet his kiss.

  “Mmm. You taste good, Aby” she said against his mouth and pulled him into her dilapidated little apartment.

  “You smell like a feast.” Aden sat with her on her broken-down float couch, which thumped to the floor, the crimson cushions sagging so that they slid comfortably together in the center.

  “Does that mean you want to eat me up?” She snuggled her petite body against his larger one.

  “Gods, yes.”

  “Good. Because my foodgen is on the fritz again.”

  Aden smoothed his hand over her golden-blonde hair, loving the texture. “We can order in.”

  “Already did. Food should be here in ten minutes.” Nuzzling his neck, she climbed onto his lap and wrapped her lithe body around him. “Just enough time for a little appetizer.”

  Aden slid his hands up her smooth legs, the feel of her gently curved thighs sending a bolt of desire racing through his body. He pushed her pale-green dress up around her waist and silently commanded himself to stay in control of his passion. He needed her, needed this. Now.

  When he squeezed twin handfuls of bare bottom and pressed her against his erection, she choked on a laugh. “Did I say a little appetizer…?”

  “You did.” Aden nipped her earlobe then sucked it into his mouth to soothe the slight sting.

  She popped open the tabs on his shirt and kissed her way down his throat to his chest. “I meant big.” She found a nipple and pinched it between her teeth. “Huge.” She rocked against him, making him groan. “Enormous.”

  “That’s more like it,” Aden said before he pulled her dress over her head and laid her out on the couch.

  His breath caught as she cupped her breasts. The sight of her naked and open-hearted always made him forget how to breathe. She ran her hands down her undulating body, watching his reaction with heavy-lidded eyes that scorched his skin, heating him through and through.

  His caught prey. His mate—if she’d have him.

  Aden ripped open the tabs of his slacks as he drank in the sight and scent of her. Free of its confines, his cock pulsed as he stroked himself. He wanted to tease her but was probably doing a better job torturing himself.

  With one quick movement, Sera rolled up onto his lap, straddling him, kissing him, commanding his body. She lifted her hips and silently demanded he end their foreplay.

  Aden guided his cock into her slick passage. So warm. So taut. He gritted his teeth, keeping himself in check. Her hot sex accepted his, one slow inch at a time.

  When she was fully seated, Sera dropped her head to his shoulder and made a soft purring sound that never failed to empty his mind of rational thought. Her name became his mantra.

  “Sera. Gods, Sera.”

  She leisurely rocked against him, adjusting her position until she found one that made her tighten around him. With a low groan, she increased her rhythm. He forced his dominating instinct
down, to let her set the pace because he knew she got off on leading their lovemaking.

  She tortured him, grinding against him, straining toward her release. His muscles bunched beneath his slick skin as he held himself in check.

  She was close—Aden could feel it—but he was closer.

  Sliding his fingers between her legs, he stroked her clit. Starting with light, lazy caresses, building to strong, rapid rubs. Her body shaking, she bit down on his shoulder, smothering a shout. He sent her over the edge by sliding a lubricated finger between her ass cheeks and penetrating her tight rim.

  She climaxed, shrieking wordlessly. Shivering, shuddering around him, breaking his control.

  Cussing, clutching her ass, Aden thrust sharply into her. Once. Twice. He threw his head back and shouted her name.

  Chapter Two

  Out with Turi and Dettis five days later, Sera slumped in a tall booth at the Steel Trap Club. Her nerves made her breath short and quick. Her girlfriends were acting as buffers, keeping the drunken males on the hunt away so Sera could relax in the dance-floor-adjacent booth and down as many bitter-tang drinks as she wanted without having to worry about someone choosing her as prey.

  She felt sexy and dangerous in a red, sleek mini-dress that made her stubby little legs look long and graceful. The moonstone anklet Aden had given her for their anniversary, caught the bar’s flashing lights, and twinkled like pale-blue stars. She suspected Aden planned to propose marriage when they met up later tonight. As much as she longed for him to say the words, make that commitment to her, the fear of the unknown tainted her excitement.

  He was hiding something. She could feel it all the way down to her bones. He avoided the topic of family; hadn’t introduced her to any of his friends. She wondered if he could be embarrassed by her?

  Sera shook the thought out of her head.

  Stop worrying over nothing, she admonished herself. He loved her. No way did he care about her lack of money or social status.

  He was unlike any male she’d ever met. Strong and confident in an understated, soft-spoken sort of way. Gentle and kind. Yes, he hunted her, but she never felt like his prey. More like his companion in the hunt. His equal. His friend and lover. His mate.

  A string of curses carried over from the booth at her back.

  Sera froze.

  That voice. Familiar yet different. She swiveled around in her seat, pulled herself up on her wobbly knees and peeked over the booth.

  Aden?

  He sat with a tall, foamy drink in one large hand. His other hand fondled the exposed breast of a tall, curvaceous woman who straddled his left leg. He was aroused—Aden was too well endowed for that to go unnoticed—and cursing out his friend who stood over them and nipped at the woman's slender neck.

  “You can have her when I'm finished, Moday,” Aden said, his steel-blue eyes flashing, “if you hunt one up to trade with.”

  Clearly wasted, Moday wheeled around and slammed into the booth right in front of Sera. “What 'bout this 'un?”

  Sera ducked down into her booth. Not for anything would she let Aden see her humiliation, her stupid tears. She grabbed a cocktail napkin to wipe them away. Never would he know how much he had hurt her.

  Sharing sexual partners was common for Thabor, but to do so without her there to help select the additional player for their bed sport—unforgivable. You didn't lie about such things, hide such things.

  Shaking, she clenched her teeth and forced herself not to cry.

  *****

  Aden ground his teeth together as he walked down the sidewalk in the cool night air. Eighteen days had passed since Sera had left him. He should be home licking his wounds not out babysitting his clone.

  “Let me guess,” he said with forced levity as he glanced at Oren. “You want to hunt.”

  Oren laughed, the sound deep yet light as it ricocheted off the high solar-powered buildings lining the dimly lit street. “How'd you know?”

  Aden stepped over a soggy biograde box. “Hmm. Let me think. Oh, that's right, the twin moons are full, Copul is in the seventh house, and it's been at least, what, a week since you've gotten any?”

  “Eight days!” Oren wailed, as if he were a teenager instead of a highly-decorated city enforcer. But, like their original, Oren had always used his physiology to justify indulging his baser instincts, hunting to slake his lust instead of hunting for his mate.

  Aden gritted his teeth, cursing under his breath. He did not want to think about mates tonight.

  “Hunting?” a squat Burgoan male with tiny eyes called from across the recently rain-washed street. He sat in front of an open door to an establishment advertised in bright, bold letters as Taste of Exotica. “My girlfriends make great prey.”

  “Yes!” Oren shouted back.

  Aden punched his arm. “No, thanks!”

  “Ow. Damn it, Aden. What'd you do that for?”

  “Without the hunt, satisfaction cannot be found,” Aden quoted the well-known Thabor Hunter-Prey verse. “I don't care how good the Burgoan’s girlfriends are at pretending to be Thabor prey, you wouldn't be happy with anything you bought and you know it.”

  “Thought I should try it once without the hunt.” Oren smirked, his left eyebrow lifting in the way females found so charming. “Especially after finding the Burgoan sexbot you've got hidden in your closet.”

  “That was a present from your friend, you moron. A gift I should've returned.”

  Oren laughed. “Oh, gods, that's right. Our birthday last year. Can't believe I forgot. Fant gave it to you.”

  The sexbot had been a gag. A Burgoan male might find it useful, but no Thabor, male or female, could find satisfaction through masturbation, not even with the use of high tech toys like the damned bot. But Fant, a close friend since childhood, knew Aden and Oren’s original usually came to their birthday parties with the intention of ruining them.

  In a desperate attempt to distract everyone from their original’s merciless ridicule, Fant had pulled out the sexbot, set it on a table and ordered it to strip dance. It worked. The partygoers’ shouts and laughter drowned out their original’s humiliating words. But Aden had heard their original curse and call him a genetic aberration before storming out of the bar.

  Aden felt the words like stab wounds to the heart. Maybe he even believed them, especially now that he’d lost Sera. She'd left before he'd proposed. Gone with no explanation other than a brief message telling him it was over. No forwarding address.

  When he'd tracked down her best friend, Turi, she'd sniffed at him like he smelled like space trash. Then she’d said Sera had not only moved to a new residence but moved on to someone so much better than a bent like him.

  “So, did you at least test the bot out?” Oren asked, elbowing Aden in the ribs.

  He opened his mouth to tell his clone to fuck off but a skidbus rounded the corner, kicking up rain puddles left over from the afternoon's storm. He jumped to the side, jerking Oren with him.

  Despite his quick thinking, muddy water sprayed over them.

  Dripping wet, Aden smiled despite the oily residue made his skin itch and burn. Game over. No way would his double hunt while looking like a street-squatter and smelling like week-old road kill—his vanity wouldn’t allow it.

  “You think this is funny?” Oren wiped at his unhappy face. “Well, the joke's on you 'cause I was going to share my catch with you tonight.”

  “Anyone you'd catch, I'd just release back into the wild,” Aden said with as much bravado as he could muster while his body raged at him for release.

  Oren gave a snort and turned to walk the few blocks back to their family home, his long stride eating up ground.

  Aden leaned against the slick, metal building wall and closed his eyes. Thank gods. They were going home. Hell, the only reason he’d agreed to come out with Oren tonight was that he thought their original would be home but the assumption had proven false.

  In spite of
his long abstinence—eighteen days—Aden wasn't in the mood to watch his clone play hunter-prey, harassing him to participate. He had two more days before his self-denial damaged him, and he damn well would take them. The idea of hunting prey when he’d already found the mate he wanted…damn near unbearable.

  With a sigh, he pushed off the wall and walked slowly home.

  Chapter Three

  Sera braced herself between rails as she carefully disembarked from the skidbus. Her left heel had popped off while she'd been running for the bus. With a very unladylike squeal, she'd hit the ground. Now her new cream-colored dress looked a shredded, muddied mess.

  That's what she got for running in heels.

  Still, the fall had been worth it to lose her blind date. What a disaster! She knew better than to go out with someone sight unseen. The only excuse she had for her error in judgment was the amount of time she'd gone without coition. Eighteen insufferable days.

  She hopped from the skidbus and balanced on her unbroken heel.

  The male Turi had set her up with, Wathan something-or-other, was supposed to bring an end to her sexual frustration. Instead all he'd accomplished was her anger.

  What a noom.

  Loud to the point of deafening. Aggressive to the point of assaulting. He seemed to think Turi had done his hunting for him, giving him all rights to begin mauling his catch as soon as they'd met.

  The moment he'd left to buy them drinks, Sera had darted out of the bar. Running at break-neck speed, she'd forced herself not to look back until she reached the nearest bus stop. Even when she’d fallen, she hadn’t wasted time to check if he was following her.

  Truth was he'd done more than anger her. He'd scared her.

  There had been something wrong peering out of his strangely familiar eyes. Something chilling in his rumbling voice. Something off in his intense scent.

  What had Turi been thinking? Even if Wathan hadn’t been an obnoxious bent, he’d been way too old for her. What had Sera been thinking in taking her friend's advice?