by Susan Hayes
He expelled a sharp breath and tried to find something to say. He couldn’t. “That… I…” he stammered, his brain failing to form a complete thought.
“Speechless? And you’ve been so chatty tonight.”
He tore off his pants the rest of the way, kicking off his shoes hard enough one of them hit the far wall.
She yelped, laughed, and took two steps back from him. “Ooh, is this when you go all big bad cyborg on me?”
He didn’t say a word. He just nodded once and closed the distance between them so fast she didn’t have time to move. Not that she tried. She wanted this as much as he did, and knowing that unlocked something inside of him.
If she wanted to play… he could, too.
Maggie knew she was pressing Striker’s buttons. She knew, but she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted to see who he was under the growliness he wore like body armor. She wanted to break through and reach the man buried beneath the scars and guilt.
When he came after her, she was ready. Her arms ached from fight practice, but she caught hold of his shoulders as he swept her off her feet and carried her down onto the bed of pillows.
She clung to him, laughing as they tumbled into the soft nest. Somehow he managed to roll them so he landed first, cushioning her against his big body.
His mouth found hers, arms like steel bands wrapping around her as he flipped them again, pinning her beneath him.
“No more talking.” He placed one hand beside her shoulder and pushed up in a display of strength that made her head spin and her blood sing.
“You mean you’re not talking anymore? Or are you telling me I can’t talk anymore? Because that’s really not going to work for me.” She licked her lips and grinned.
He didn’t answer her aloud, but his mouth quirked up into a smile that sent thrills chasing down her spine. He shifted, pressing a knee between her legs until she spread them enough for him to move between her thighs.
“I’m still not clear on the rules. Am I allowed to talk or—oh!” she broke off as Striker pressed a callused thumb to her clit, rubbing it in small, tight circles.
The sexy little smirk on his face told her he knew exactly what he was doing to her and was enjoying every second of it.
So was she.
“So… no talking?” She managed to get the words out in a soft, breathy gasp as she rocked her hips against his fingers.
This time, he slid a thick finger into her channel and started fucking her with it, his thumb still working her clit at the same time.
“You’re still not answer—” she lost the ability to form words as he added another finger.
He was kneeling between her legs, out of her reach, so she had to settle for gripping the blanket beneath her as he worked her body like a maestro playing his favorite instrument. Time blurred and her focus narrowed until nothing remained in their universe but the two of them and the pleasure coursing through her.
Her orgasm came on with breath-stealing speed, her cries ringing off the walls of the near-empty room as she bucked and arched against his hand.
She collapsed back onto the pillows, limbs boneless, her whole body buzzing with the aftershocks. It took most of her will just to lift her head to watch as Striker withdrew his hand and raised it to his lips, sucking her cream from his fingers with the same intensity as he’d consumed the dessert they’d shared.
He grabbed several of the pillows and rearranged them before shifting positions so he was sitting down, legs outstretched, the hard ridges of his abdomen flexed and perfect as he pointed to her and then crooked his finger.
This time, she decided to keep her mouth shut. Without a word she rose and crawled over to him, her movements as slow and sensual as she could manage. It didn’t matter that she’d just had a mind-blowing orgasm, her body wanted more.
The moment she was within reach he reached up and undid the tie holding back her hair, wrapping it around his fingers and using it to pull her in for another kiss.
His free hand took one of hers, guiding and balancing her as she straddled his heavy thighs and pressed her wet pussy along the shaft of his cock.
They both groaned, their kiss becoming more urgent as she rocked her hips, every move increasing the friction between them. He tore his mouth from hers, tugging on her hair until she tipped her head to one side and bared her throat. He kissed his way down to her collarbone, nipping and nuzzling at her tender skin. She’d have marks there in the morning, but right now she didn’t care. That was a problem for her future self to deal with.
Striker kept working his way lower until his lips found her nipple and he sucked it into the heat of his mouth. She gasped and then squirmed as his teeth closed over the pebbled nipple with the perfect amount of force. He was pushing without hurting her, learning her boundaries and claiming her body one kiss at a time.
She wrapped a hand around his neck, holding him to her as she bowed her head to blow gently in his ear.
He shuddered, his cock twitching against her folds. “Like that?” her voice was barely more than a whisper, fanning more of her breath across his ear.
He growled something incoherent, a sound, not a word. Laughing, she ran the tip of her tongue along the curve of his ear and then down to the lobe to draw it into her mouth.
This time the sound he made was half-wild, the vibration of it rolling through her. He bucked his hips hard, lifting them both off the floor as his cock slid over her clit again.
It was exquisite, intense, and not nearly enough. “More.”
Fingers tightened in her hair, their heads rising at the same time. His mouth crashed against hers, hungry and demanding.
Callused hands slipped to her shoulders and then down to her hips, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He gripped her hips and lifted her off him, their kiss breaking for a moment as he positioned her and then brought her down on the thick head of his cock.
He held her like that for several seconds. She dangled in the air with only the backs of her feet touching the floor, her entire body throbbing with the need to have him inside her.
She cupped his face in her hands, looking into his eyes, and saw desire there. Raw and primal. But something else was there, too, something she hadn’t expected—vulnerability.
She whispered his name and then leaned in to kiss him. As their mouths met, he lowered her into his lap, easing himself into her passage as he did. Gazes locked, bodies pressed together, the intensity between them built as he filled her.
Neither of them moved for several seconds, but then impatience drove her to action. She flexed her inner walls around him and rocked her hips, pushing him just a little deeper.
Striker groaned, arching into her, and the next thing she knew the world spun and she was on her back again, pressed down into the pillows as Striker took control.
“That didn’t take long,” was all she managed to say before his mouth was on hers and he was moving over her, driving his hard length into her body with long, powerful thrusts.
His kisses were bruising, his touch demanding as every stroke unleashed a fresh wave of ecstasy. Maggie moaned into his mouth, her nails digging into the curve of his shoulders as she clung to him and met his every movement with one of her own.
She wrapped one leg around his thigh, using the leverage it created to take him deeper. Within seconds his hand wrapped around the back of her knee, drawing her leg higher and holding her there. She was pinned beneath him now, wide open and unable to do anything but accept the pleasure he offered.
The end came too quickly for her, the constant barrage of pure pleasure tipping her over into a breathless orgasm that tore through her with all the fury of a storm.
As she arched and shuddered beneath him, Striker’s rhythm faltered, his strokes coming faster, her name a near silent whisper on his lips.
“Yes. Oh yes!” she called out. She needed to see him lose control. To feel him empty himself inside her.
His cock twitched, his pace accelerating. He broke th
eir kiss to raise his head and roar as he reached his climax, his wordless cry ringing out as he drove himself into her one last time. Then, he slumped over her, keeping most of his weight on his hands as he buried his head in the crook of her shoulder.
She held him, stroking his hair and making soft noises of contentment she hadn’t known she was capable of making.
When he finally raised his head, his expression was softer than she’d ever seen it. “Beautiful,” he said and then brushed a tender kiss to her lips.
“So, now we’re talking again?” she quipped, deflecting the compliment.
“I am. You were already warned what happens when you speak.” He winked and kissed her again before easing himself out of her body and flopping onto the floor beside her.
“I’m pretty sure I’m safe for a little while. I mean, not even cyborgs can recover that fast. Right?”
His answer was a grin so wicked it would have done the devil proud. He took her hand and guided it down to his cock. It was already hard again. “Wrong.”
“Oh fraxx,” she murmured, wrapping her fingers around him.
“And yet, you’re still talking.”
She leaned in and kissed him. “So are you.”
He growled, speared his hands into her hair, and kissed her so hard she saw stars. If this was how she was destined to die, she was totally at peace with it. Being with Striker would be worth it.
10
“You’re spending more time in town these days,” Edge commented as they ran through the silent streets of Haven.
Striker liked the colony when it was like this—quiet and still, with most of the inhabitants still sleeping. “The rockclaws are starting to hibernate and I’m waiting on some materials for the cabin,” he sent via their internal channel.
Edge shot him a look that made it clear he wasn’t buying it. “Materials, huh? You sure it isn’t because of the human you carried out of the Bar None the other night? I hear you even have a job now. You. Working. In town. For a human.”
“You’ve been trying to get me to pick a profession since we got here.”
“True. Working as bar security wasn’t what I thought you’d pick, but if you’re happy…” Edge’s words packed enough subtext to fill a cargo deck.
“You have something to say about my recent decisions?” They flew past their friend Denz for the second time that morning. He waved as they passed him. Denz wasn’t a cyborg and couldn’t keep up with them, but they still ran “together” a few days a week. Most of the cyborgs thought they were crazy, but Striker liked it. Until the last few days, running, sparring, and his time in the woods were the only ways he had to burn off excess energy. Now… now he had Maggie, too.
“It’s your human. Skye’s a little worried about her.”
Striker sped up as a surge of resentment hit him. First Skye warned Maggie to stay away from him, now this. “Skye needs to worry about the human females still trying to acclimatize to life here. Maggie isn’t her responsibility anymore.”
Edge caught up within a few seconds and matched Striker’s new pace. “You know why that isn’t easy for her.”
“I do. That doesn’t change the facts. Maggie doesn’t need Skye’s protection. She has mine.”
Edge did a double take and nearly tripped over his own feet. “Say that again.”
“I don’t need to. You have perfect recall of every conversation we’ve ever had.”
They ran the last hundred meters to their usual stopping point, a bare patch of ground just outside the gharshtu pens.
“Yeah, but I’m saving that for later when I’m trying to convince myself I didn’t imagine this whole conversation. When did you start trusting them?”
“I don’t. I trust Maggie.” He paused and then added, “And Denz, Sevda, and Phaedra. I’m coming to like Anya, too. She asked about you, by the way. I gather you haven’t been around for your weekly chat about Zero-G hockey. She wanted to know if you were okay.”
Edge looked sheepish for a second and then laughed. “Okay, I like some humans. Not all of them are a waste of atmosphere.”
“Some,” Striker agreed. He wasn’t giving the whole human race a pass because Maggie and the small cohort of humans in Haven hadn’t tried to enslave anyone or destroy this world the way they had Earth.
“So. This thing with the human…”
Striker answered him with a swat to the arm. “Her name is Maggie. And when did you get this nosey?”
“Maggie. Right. This thing with Maggie. It’s serious?”
He shrugged. “It’s something.” Being with her made him happy. She was a bright light in the gray twilight of his existence. He wasn’t ready to put any of that into words, though. Not yet. They were. That was enough for him.
Denz caught up to them, his arrival stirring up the gharshtu. The flightless birds were big, vile tempered, and dangerous. They were also tasty and fierce enough to fight back against most of the local predators and win, which was why they were so common in Vardarian colonies.
“You two look serious. You telling him about the platforms?”
Edge shook his head.
Striker shrugged. “He’s being nosy. Wants to know about Maggie.”
Denz looked momentarily startled, and Striker realized he’d been speaking aloud.
“Yeah. He talks now,” Edge said. “This woman must be magical.”
Striker jabbed two fingers into the air in an obscene gesture, and both men laughed.
“I heard. You and the new bartender. This keeps up and Anya is going to need to post a sign warning patrons that drinking at the Bar None can lead to relationships.” Denz pointed to himself and then Striker. “You. Me. And I heard a pair of Vardarians found their mahaya there last week.”
Edge nodded. “Talia.”
Talia was like River and Skye. She’d been created after the war with behavior mods that made her more nurturing and almost shy in comparison to most of her brethren. Striker had heard the rumors, of course, but he’d been too distracted by his own situation to pay much attention.
“She’s happy?” Denz asked.
“Overjoyed,” Edge said, his voice dryer than dust.
“Relax, I’m fairly sure it’s not contagious.”
Edge snorted. “Think I’ll stay away from the Bar None for a while, anyway. Just in case.”
“It’s not so bad. Is it, Striker?” Denz asked and grinned at him.
He smiled back and flashed a thumbs up. Not only in agreement, but because he was enjoying teasing Edge. The surly cyborg was even more solitary than he was, at least when it came to female company.
After a moment, he pointed upward and then raised his brows in query.
“Yeah, the platforms. There’s a problem,” Denz said, his tone darkening.
“A big one,” Edge agreed. “But you’re going to be one of the first to know, so… discretion is needed.”
He touched a finger to his lips and then made a locking gesture.
“The defense grid is down,” Denz said grimly.
“When? How?” Striker asked.
“It started acting up a few days ago. Minor outages and glitches at first, but it’s turned into a cascade failure. We’ve got crews working on a fix here and in orbit, but so far no one’s been able to find the problem.”
He had no doubt Phaedra would be part of the team dealing with this crisis, and if one of the most talented cyber-jockeys in the galaxy couldn’t find the reason for the failure, it wouldn’t be an easy fix.
A thought occurred. “Positioning data?”
“Yeah. That’s where it started. Yours went out, too?” Edge asked.
“Maggie’s.” And if that was going to be a concern, he’d have to tell her she couldn’t leave the colony. Not until he had some other way of finding her if she got lost again.
“We’re vulnerable until that grid is back up. All of us. The prince has every ship we have to spare in orbit, acting as a makeshift blockade, but freighters and shuttles aren’t w
ell-armed. They can be used as spotters, but that’s about it,” Denz said.
“We’re going to issue a population-wide warning soon. I wasn’t going to mention it until then,” Edge glanced at Denz, who shrugged.
“An hour isn’t going to make any difference. Striker and Maggie spend a lot of time in the woods. Shadow and I figured he’d want to know that wasn’t a good idea for the next while.”
He nodded in appreciation. The plan had been for Maggie to come with him today to check the rockclaw traps. That wouldn’t happen now, but he knew how to make it up to her. He’d picked up her kes’tarv yesterday. He’d give it to her and show her how to use it. He liked that idea. Training led to long, hot showers and even hotter sex.
Maggie might be unenhanced, but she made up for it with passion and an enthusiasm for life that was infectious. She had more energy than should have been possible for someone without nanotech. Once she got her injection… The thought had his cock hardening and he had to refocus on the problem at hand.
The colony was vulnerable. Play time was over… for now.
“Who?” he asked aloud.
“We don’t know. It might just be a coding glitch,” Denz said.
Striker snorted. The system had worked perfectly for months. The chances that it would suddenly develop an issue on its own were low.
“Yeah. None of us believe that, either. Someone brought it down deliberately.”
“Here?” Striker pointed to the ground. If the enemy was on Liberty, they should be hunted down and killed.
“If they’re on the planet, they avoided being seen. Bad news is, that probably means they’re cloaked. Good news is, if a bunch of ships had tried that, we’d have seen an energy surge. So, it’s likely only one or two smaller ships,” Edge said.
“Odds are it’s miners coming to grab what they can of the tantalum, but in case it’s something else we need to be ready for trouble,” Denz added.
Striker snarled and tapped the grip of his blaster. Like most of his cyborg brethren, he never left home unarmed. It was part of their conditioning and their commitment to never be taken prisoner again. This was his home, and he’d die defending it. Anyone who threatened this place or its citizens would pay the ultimate price. They should be tracking the intruders down and putting an end to this. Now.