CHAPTER 2

Mercy

Poe squinted, trying to make out the dimly lit room he was now in. He groaned as he had awoken with one hell of a headache. He could feel warm liquid dripping down the side of his head, that seemed to be coming directly from the source of his head pain. The last thing he remembered was being hit in the head by something hard. "That's going to leave a mark," he groaned.

As he tried to reach up to touch the wound, he realized that he was unable to move. He looked down and saw that he was firmly tied to a metal chair, his hands locked behind his back, the rough rope tied in a crisscross across his over his chest and around the legs of the chair. This wasn't the usual cable binding that the First Order used. No, this was crude rope that was a bitch to remove due to it biting into the skin with every movement.

He was royally carbon flushed.

He hissed as he struggled. With every move, the rope seemed to tighten, cutting into his wrists and legs. He tried to reach into his back pocket, hoping that blasted Schutta hadn't robbed him of everything.

He paused as he heard a light creak as the door to the room opened. He looked up, expecting to see that blonde woman, or worse someone from the First Order. Instead he raised an eyebrow as he caught sight of a familiar shade of bright red. It was the bartender.

He heard her sigh as she reached up and pulled at her bright red hair. In one fluid motion she pulled off the wig. A wave of silky chocolate curls fell past her shoulders and curled just above the curve of her buttocks, drawing his eyes to their sweet, toned shape. When she looked up and saw him she gasped. "Oh, my stars I'm so sorry! I thought this room was empty," she said in shock as she averted her eyes, struggling to find somewhere to focus her gaze. Eventually she settled for the floor. "Usually the girls put a scarf on the door letting us know these rooms were occupied. Typically, they don't use this area though. This hall is reserved for our private use. I'll umm… I'll just-" she stammered as she started to close the door.

"No, no, no! Wait, wait, wait!" Poe struggled at the ties, cursing as he felt that rope tighten again.

She paused, leaving the door slightly ajar as she stood in the doorway. He heard a light tapping on the floor. When he looked down at her feet he noticed that she was lightly tapping her foot. She appeared to be impatient and did not like that she was being held up. He gathered that this room was possibly used as a breakroom of sorts for the girls of this establishment, and him being here impeded on her downtime.

"Maybe you can help me…" He pleaded.

She shook her head. "Sorry guy… I just pour drinks. Plus, my shift is over. If you want more company, you will have to take it up with the woman you're here with when she comes back." She finally raised her head and looked at him. Her eyebrows raised as she seemed to recognize him. "Ah… flyboy. You definitely are full of surprises." She eyed him suspiciously, her eyes narrowing as she assessed his current state. Seeming to decide that he was not a threat, she walked inside the room and closed the door behind her. He eyes followed her as he watched her walk over to a set of storage lockers that was up against the wall by the door. She punched in a code on the keypad on one of the units and opened the door. She pulled out a large leather rucksack and opened it, stuffing the red wig inside.

Poe couldn't stop himself from laughing at that moment. Here he was, tied up to a chair, awaiting whatever threat was coming his way, and this woman thought he was just being kinky.

"Sorry babe… not this time unfortunately. I find myself in a rather compromising situation that I have no idea how I got into," he explained.

Actually… he did know. And frankly, he should have known better.

He was in this situation because he let his cock rocket do the thinking. If his brain hadn't short circuited at the sight of that blonde's massive assets he would have seen that he was walking into a trap. When he walked upstairs he noted that there wasn't anyone in this area. This hallway was not decorated like the others. The hallway that was used for typical meetups was adorned with fabric and soft lighting like the rest of the cantina and the sounds of pleasure echoed into the halls adding to the erotic scene.

This hall she led him down however, was different. Instead of being plush and sensual, the walls were cold and concrete. The only thing echoing into the hall was the sound of their footsteps. This hallway seemed more business than pleasure. If he wasn't as ravenous as a rabid Anooba in heat, he would have noticed that something wasn't right. When she opened the door to the room and gestured inside, he noticed that the room was small. There was not a bed in the corner but instead a small cot and a small wash basin on the floor. In the middle of the room there was a single chair. On the floor beside it was a rope.

She was prepared.

And before he knew it he was knocked out.

Now he was here, staring at this unapologetically apathetic woman, completely at her mercy. He watched as she pulled out a worn sweater that was hanging in the locker and lifted it up over her head. Internally he said a small prayer in remembrance of the sight of her perfectly taught breasts, that were once on magnificent display, but were now covered by the rusty brown of the oversized sweater that completely drowned her slight frame.

"Well flyboy… if you didn't book this add-on then it looks like one of two things happened to you. Either, one you didn't pay for services and you're here as punishment until Dorgon comes up here to rough you up."

"Tusk cat… I'll have you know that I don't have to pay for sweet time with a female. They usually come to me." He wrestled again at the ties around his wrists. Damnit these are on here good. Did this woman work for the navy or something?

"I'm sure they do handsome," she quipped in a patronizing tone. She picked up a brush that was placed on a small table beside the lockers and went over to a mirror that was behind mounted on the back of the door. She began running the hairbrush through her hair.

"If you untie these ropes I'll show you why women like your blonde friend come running." He prodded and winked.

He saw the corners of her mouth twitch in the reflection of the mirror, as if she was holding back a smile. She took one long look at him before she rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Well based on your attitude flyboy," she continued. "I will have to go with scenario number two."

Poe tugged on the binds holding him in place. He felt like he almost got his arm out of the bind. But as he felt the rope pinch his skin he started to wonder if he should work on getting his legs free instead. "And what scenario is that tuck cat?" he asked, making sure to place emphasis on his pet name for her. If she was going to continue calling him flyboy then it was only fair that he got to keep his nickname for her.

"Someone has a price on your head." She said matter-of-factly. "The woman you came up here with, Chiara, is very resourceful."

"How did you know who I came up here with?" Poe asked inquisitively. "Paying attention to me, have you?"

The bartender paused, before turning to put the hair brush back on the table. She ran her fingers through her curly hair and turned from the mirror. Poe did not miss the fact that she was now avoiding his gaze. "Chiara does things for the highest bidder," she began, ignoring his question. "And what she does isn't limited to just her… private services that she offers at the cantina." She looked up at him then. "People seek out Chiara because she is able to get information out of people. Most guys typically fall for her. You can't be blamed for taking the bait. You're not the first and you definitely won't be the last."

Poe shrugged again. "Well you're not wrong there. She was definitely easy pickings and she appeals to a lot of different palates." He leaned forward as far as the bindings allowed him. "However," he said, making a show of eyeing her up and down. "I personally like things a little spicier."

She ignored his last statement. "If you truly are the best pilot in the galaxy like you think you are flyboy-"

"Poe."

She paused. "What?"

"If you're going to make assumptions about me, then you should at least know my name. It's Poe Dameron. And don't be mistaken babe." He grinned. "Just ask anyone who the best pilot in this galaxy is, they will all mention my name." Poe said confidently.

"Well, Poe Dameron, you probably haven't gotten the title of 'Best Pilot in the Galaxy' by playing it the straight and narrow." She held out her finger and pointed towards him. "My guess is that you either work for the First Order or for the Resistance. And since now a days the streets are starting to fill up more and more with First Order, I am going to go with you being part of the later."

"How very astute of you," he mumbled. Poe looked over his shoulder, trying to get a better look at his wrists. If he wriggled his thumb against his palm and used tried wedging his pinkie from his other hand underneath the binding, he just might be able to squeeze his hand through.

She sat on the floor and grabbed a pair of boots that were sitting on the ground by the door. She began to put them on and weave the laces through the eyelets of the boots. Noticing the vibrant bronze of her skin, he couldn't' stop from wondering if her legs felt as smooth as her hands.

"Get me out of here and I'll make sure you're handsomely rewarded."

She snorted. "Sorry flyboy…if you're in that chair you probably deserved it."

Poe felt himself begin to panic as he watched her stand up and head towards the exit. His odds of getting out of here were getting worse with each step she made towards the door.

"Name your price!" He called after her.

She stopped. After a few moments she looked over her shoulder at him. She was waiting for him to continue.

Poe needed to keep her in the room. She was giving him one final shot and he needed to take it. He knew that he would be able to break her down. "Look, I work with some very powerful people. What I am doing is extremely important. We are on the brink of war. You're a clever woman and I know you've felt it."

He saw a shadow drift over her face, her lips were now pressed in a thin line. When she didn't respond he continued.

"If Chiara is working with who I think she is, then it won't be long before trouble finds you too."

"Trouble doesn't have a hard time finding me." She said quietly, the barest hint of insecurity peeking through. He saw that she was no longer looking at him but instead tugging at the hem of her sleeves.

He pulled his body forward. He winced slightly as the ropes continued to bite into him, his skin beginning to be rubbed raw from the friction. "It doesn't have to find you. Just name your price."

It felt as if time ticked on as neither of them made a sound. It was as if they were playing a game of chicken, each of them waiting for the other to pull away first. Poe was not going to look away. He was not going to back down. She was his best chance at getting out of here. And he could sense that she was at a judgement point. The question was if he had said the right thing.

She finally looked up at him. And then, something in her eyes changed. The hesitation was gone, and she was once again that tusk cat in the bar. She set her bag down on the floor before she slowly stalked towards him. Her slender hips moving languidly as her lean legs carried her to stand in front of him.

She leaned over him, her breath against his cheek was like hot fire. A fire that ignited a fuse that went straight to his groin. His body responded instantly. Poe held completely still as he felt her perch herself upon his lap, one slim thigh resting on either side of his hips. He noted how light she felt sitting in his lap. She brushed her chocolate curls over her shoulder, her oversized sweater falling down slightly, exposing her beautifully golden skin. At that moment all he could think about was how much he wanted to trail his tongue along her silky skin just to see what she tasted like. Her pillow soft curls lightly feathered his neck as he felt her nuzzle against nose his ear. He felt her cool fingers trail down his arms, traveling over the ropes binding him in place.

Why had he been so stupid to follow that blonde? She was quick and easy cargo, that's why. He was not blind. He noticed the bartender right away. She stood out like a phoenix inside that dark cantina. The way the neon lights illuminated her long lean limbs, causing dark shadows to dance along her curves called to him. The way her pouty pink lips moved as she spoke made his mouth water. What he wouldn't give to feel those wet lips on his skin. If only he got her upstairs. Then he would be happily tied to this chair.

Her soft fingertips touched his bottom lip gently. His skin burned at the touch. When his mouth opened slightly, a shaky breath left his mouth. He was completely bare to this woman and completely at her mercy. His breath hitched. "What are you—"

She pressed her mouth to his, so hard that his head snapped back. Her tongue pressed passed his clenched teeth and Poe moaned as he tasted the warm peppermint of her saliva. Her kiss felt like a drug and with this one hit he was addicted. She was penetrating him like an infection, making him weak and eating him alive. He was suffering, and he knew he should pull away. But when her lips left his, he couldn't stop his groan and he hungrily took her lips back against his. His tongue slipped back inside of her mouth, demanding everything from her. With each kiss he realized that he could kiss her the rest of his life and he would never have enough.

He drank in the tiny, choked gasp that left her mouth as his hips involuntarily pressed upwards against her. He strained against the ropes, and his wrists burned in protest. He damned the ropes that were holding him down. He wanted his hands free, wanted to feel his hands on her hips as he pressed her hard against him. He wanted to hear her say his name from those sweet lips of hers as he thrusted into her, hard and slow.

"What's your name?" He managed to pant out in between breaths.

She chuckled against his lips as she glided her cheek against his coarse cheek, her lips feathered his ear as she whispered huskily. "That's another fee."

Poe's heart stopped as she began to kiss him once more. This time deeper than before. He felt her everywhere, down his back, up his arms, and finally behind his head, pulling him closer so that she could kiss him harder, deeper, and with an urgent need that wasn't there before.

As she pulled away and leaned back in his lap she met his hooded gaze. "For my services." She held her arm up, and Poe noticed that she was holding a small watch high in the air.

Immediately he looked down behind him at his wrist and saw that she had swiped his watch.

What the…?

"Good luck flyboy." She saluted as she jumped off his lap. She quickly picked up her rucksack and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Poe roared as he thrashed in the chair. The sound of the metal chair pounding on the ground as he moved. "YOU. SNARKIN'. SITHSPAWN!" Poe spat out as he strained against his ties, making the chair jump in protest. As he shook in rage he heard the faint sound of metal hitting the floor. He looked down at the ground just in front of his feet and saw a small knife lying on the ground.

He grinned and looked back up at the door. "That little tusk cat…"