by Reagan Woods
He knew she was tired and in pain, but he suspected the spirited female would be difficult even on a good day. It was the way she was wired. Sick male that he was, he enjoyed her feisty attitude and found her indescribably sexy. It would be much easier to appreciate her from afar, though. Stone he was not.
“Seriously,” she pushed stubbornly. “This isn’t the first time you’ve seen me bare.”
“You were in danger of dying before,” Bram reminded her, blinking burning eyes. “Now, you’re not.”
“So?” Lacy pulled the front of her tunic down and the tightness in his throat eased. The temptress’s behavior was not making it easy to focus on their survival.
“Drink this.” He pushed the broth at her. “I’ll finish your back as soon as you put your pants on.”
“Dude, we’ve been over this,” she paused to guzzle some of the broth. Making a bitter face, she continued, “I haven’t magically sprouted a tail. Just do what you need to do so we can grab some sleep before we hit the Dead Zone.” She turned and presented her back.
“Lacy,” he gritted, frustrated. Part of him was elated that she trusted him this way. Of course, the rational side of him realized it was because she didn’t see him as a female would a male. There was no delicate way to make her understand what she did to him or what she risked when behaving so brazenly. In the end, he left it alone, and bore the torture in silence.
Gently, he pulled up the back of her tunic and grabbed the healing wand from the sleep surface where she’d laid it. He did his level best not to stare at her rounded bottom, and he cursed his wayward cock as it thickened, pushing up beneath the hard band of his belt. The lush mound of her backside practically begged his hands to knead it. He bit his tongue against the temptation, tasting blood.
“Will you come on already?” She wiggled that pert ass, dancing from foot to foot. “I’m tired and I want to get this over with. Heads-up, I’m not sleeping in those pants. They’re too tight.”
Jaw set, Bram turned the wand on and went to work. “That feels so good,” she moaned, the sound far more sexual than it should be.
“Lacy,” he growled her name this time, watching in fascination as chill bumps rose on her peachy skin. “Why do you push me like this?”
“Like what?” She glanced over her shoulder at him, teeth sinking into her full lower lip. A stray lock of hair fell over one eye, giving her a tousled, inviting appearance.
Sucking in a breath through his nose, Bram deactivated the wand and carefully sat it aside. It took every ounce of his control to smooth the tunic over her back. “Get some sleep,” he commanded tersely.
She crawled under the silky quilt and reclined. “I thought you were tired?”
Bram clenched his back teeth, steeling himself against those wide eyes as he kicked out of his boots. He was careful to leave space between them when he lowered onto the padded surface and turned off the lights. It took all his focus to force deep, even breaths, and he was marginally successful in tuning her out.
“I’m chilly. Aren’t you?” Her hot breath steamed against his ear, jolting him.
Bram stayed far away from the politics of the CGA, but if Lacy was a typical Earth female, it was no wonder the Corian and Doranos males were jockeying over who controlled the work camps. Easy access to females who embodied such an unusual combination of weakness and boldness would be impossible to resist.
Full-blooded Doranos males were dominants, both in the bedroom and out of it. According to his mother, it was a biological quirk and one Doranos females quite enjoyed – on their own terms. His Corian blood combined with lack of acceptance in the Doranese community ensured a certain amount of distance and control over his urges.
With her this close, that distance was shrinking at a disturbing rate.
He jolted when her small hand came to rest over his heart, biting out grimly, “Lacy, what are you doing?”
It would only take a moment for his guard to fall and for him to become like the males he’d spent his life despising, the ones who used his mother so hard and so publicly. That was not acceptable.
“It’s probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done,” she admitted in a throaty whisper that made his eyes cross. Where did this seductress come from?
“We’re down to the wire and I can’t figure out what makes you so different. I want to trust you, Bram.” Her small, warm hand trailed down his abdomen teasingly. She purred, pressing closer. “I know how to be grateful and, if I have to go that route, I would rather be with just you than with either,” he felt her small body shudder when she paused, “Or both of those pirates.”
The instinct to dominate poured through his blood at her provocative tone, clouding his mind for vital moments. She was too small, too delicate; there was no way Lacy could withstand the appetite she aroused in him.
“I’m not following,” he muttered, holding himself immobile as she pushed the magnatabs on his uniform open. Now, her hand traced the bare skin around his navel. This was certainly a game she was playing. Dangerous. Destructive.
Warm softness wiggled along his side as she wedged her shoulders between his arm and torso. His arm tightened reflexively, drawing her closer until she sprawled across his chest. “Lacy, stop. What are you doing?”
“Please, don’t let Lyon have me. Promise.” Her words, spoken against his chin, sounded foreign when filtered through the swelling fog of lust in his brain. He could roll her beneath him here and now, take whatever he wished, and she could do nothing to stop him. How could she fail to see that?
Belatedly, her words registered. Realization pierced the veil, and he breathed easier. She was trying to manipulate him. He preferred straight talk. “There is no need to lower yourself. I will take you away from here. I can even try to get you back to Earth, Lacy, but I cannot be your escort.”
She stilled. After a few moments, he felt her breath against his open collar. “Lower myself?”
“You shouldn’t touch me,” he bit out. Weakling that he was, he made no move to push her away. Instead, he reveled in her closeness, in the silk of her hair twined through his fingers.
“Why not?” She whispered.
There was no shame in doing whatever it took to stay alive; however, offering herself like this wasn’t necessary. Or wise. “After I kill the hunter, I will not be welcome in CORANOS Space again. Essentially, by honoring my agreement with the pirates, I’m putting myself in an untenable situation. Not that I would return to serve them after this.”
“Who knows you’re here?” Confusion laced her words.
Patiently, Bram explained, “The High Council knew you and I were aboard this ship when they chose to send the assassin.”
She pulled in an audible breath. “What? No, that can’t be.” After a few moments, she asked, “Will I be able to return to Earth?”
“I think, once you’ve snuck back into the camp, you should select a Protector and join the ranks of the Claimed Females before they realize who you are,” Bram told her pragmatically, though the words sliced like razors leaving his mouth. “We must find someone trustworthy to take you back.”
“Bah!” Lacy rolled off his chest to end the interlude but stayed at his side. He wanted to shove her away as much as he wished he could cradle her close.
A moment later, she asked, “How?” Her voice cracked, “How can I get back when so much stands in my way?”
He reached out in the dark and felt the trickle of moisture on her face. Wiping it away, he gripped her chin, silently encouraging her to be strong. “One step at a time,” he told her. “Get some sleep.”
Her sweet, female scent drifted to his nostrils as she cuddled close, snuggling into the space between his shoulder and his neck. “Goodnight.”
If her emotions were genuine – no, he wouldn’t go there. He wouldn’t fantasize about what it would be like to truly find acceptance with a female like Lacy. Her diminutive size and soft exterior camouflaged an inner core of steely resolve. Bram found the combin
ation of soft and strong unbearably sexy.
A frustrated huff left his chest as he resigned himself to a sleepless night. The feel of her soft, pliant body curled into his side was the sweetest torment.
Chapter 19
Lacy stared fixedly at the proximity indicator, an upside-down pyramid of light emitting from a round eye in the console before her. According to Bram, the small, limp clump of wires that spun like a possessed ceiling fan above it charged ions and fired them into the light, creating a replica of the space surrounding the ship. She would love to learn more about how it worked but getting information out of him was like pulling teeth.
Ever since they woke, he’d been terse, uttering grunts in answer to her questions and being generally pissy. Not that she blamed him. Her come-on had been a bit strong, but what else was she supposed to do?
“Whatever,” she’d told him the last time he growled at her. “My bad. Okay, but how was I supposed to be certain I could trust you?” He hadn’t answered. “You held out and didn’t try anything no matter how much I pushed. That means something,” she’d insisted.
Since then, he’d been even more subdued, going about his business as though she weren’t there. It hurt, if she were honest, but, in his shoes, she would be leery, too. She’d let her fear push her into doing the very thing she didn’t want to do. Now, she felt weak and stupid. More, she regretted losing the feeling of camaraderie they’d had. Guilt sat heavy on her chest.
Their ship had left the relative safety of the asteroids behind, and they were almost a day into the trek across the Dead Zone. Everyone was gathered on the bridge. It felt like they were huddled together, waiting for fate to find them and dish out a helping of pain. Or maybe that was her pessimistic attitude on full display. She’d much rather do something productive than wait around like this. Honesty compelled her to admit that if she hadn’t ruined the rapport between her and Bram, the situation wouldn’t be so unbearable.
Lyon and Zocan played a game that reminded her of three-dimensional chess on one of the displays. Neither paid her or Bram any attention. Instead, they lazed in their chairs, quietly talking as they played.
Bram, on the other hand, was intense, constantly checking and rechecking data. He’d left for a bit and returned covered in a sheen of sweat and the fragrance of hard work. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d loaded their special missiles into the guns around the ship.
Every few hours, she returned, alone, to the cabin to do a quick pass with the healing wand. She was almost in the clear – there was very little of the watery yellow color on the indicator display, so she should be grateful. Instead, she fretted. Why didn’t the assassin register on any of their fancy equipment? What was he waiting on? Not knowing was eating at her.
Her stomach gave an empty rumble. Before she could excuse herself, Bram pushed up from his seat and stalked away.
Lacy kept her eyes glued steadfastly to her post. She would grab some of the heinous broth when he returned. They couldn’t both abandon their jobs, and she was determined to prove her worth. Plus, she didn’t want to look like Little Girl Lost following him around.
Movement in the periphery had her curious gaze swinging to the side. She came nose-to-bowl with a steaming serving of broth and Bram steadied her with a light touch on her shoulder.
“Thank you,” she murmured, accepting the shallow vessel. It was the first friendly move he’d made today. Impulsively, she grabbed his wrist before he could move away.
Apologies didn’t come easy to her. Most times, she’d rather just take her punishment and move on, but this had to be said. Staring directly into his pink eyes, Lacy said earnestly, “I’m sorry I offended you. I was scared. It was wrong of me to come at you like that.”
“Drink your broth.” He broke her grip without moving away.
Hesitantly, she brought the bowl to her lips. Callused fingers brushed a lock of hair over her shoulder.
“I’m not angry with you,” his words were so low she barely heard them. “I understand it was a test. Just… don’t do it again. You won’t like what happens.” With that, he returned to work.
His words gave her hope that their tentative friendship wasn’t dead. She hated the conquering aliens, the terrifying soldiers and demanding overseers. Well, she thought she did, but Bram was different. He encouraged her to be herself when he didn’t have a stick up his ass about her health or some imminent peril. How could she reconcile the vastly different sides of this alien?
Which brought her to another thought; how could someone so protective not be as invested in her as she was becoming in him? Why was he intent on protecting her from the Lyarans and from whatever horrors waited on Xani?
Whatever his reasons, she had misjudged him from start to finish. That didn’t happen often. She had skills when it came to reading men. Her take on him so wrong it was embarrassing. The whole situation was a mistake she couldn’t repeat.
She’d already apologized and wouldn’t do it again. They had to move forward. Of course, she hoped he remained willing to help her find someone to aid her return to Earth. It might be tricky sneaking back to the surface, but Earth was the only home she’d ever known. Going back was the only option. Wasn’t it? She kind of wished it wasn’t.
The longer she considered, the less she liked Bram’s idea of applying to that stupid Claimed Female program, too. She’d have to have her DNA tested and submit to a rigorous personality test. After which, the alien overlords would match her to her ideal Warrior.
Oh, yes, if the idea of one of the violent, hulking Corians as a Protector wasn’t enough to seal the deal, they also had a spiel to attract the lazier Earth women. Warriors provide stable homes and get their females out of working in the prison camps. Blah, blah, blah.
She’d rather return to Earth and live alone, away from the aliens and the other humans, in peace. Ideally, she’d be responsible for her own survival. Yeah. She could hunt and fish and start a garden. Totally. She snorted at the ridiculousness of that fantasy as she finished the remaining broth.
“Not talking to you,” she waived one of the golden aliens off as he turned to see what she was doing. “Just mumbling to myself. Move along.”
Now that she had clear faculties and time to consider, she realized someone had set her up to die. That was one little fact that she kept coming back to. She was a nobody, so why bother with her? No matter how she racked her brain, answers were not forthcoming.
“Lacy, are you well?” Bram rumbled next to her.
“Peachy,” she snarked, momentarily forgetting her goal to make nice.
He slid his eyes toward her briefly, but quickly returned his attention to his station. “Whatever.”
“Bram, why am I here?” She asked, unable to prevent her bad attitude leaking through.
“Because I didn’t have the will to lock you in the cabin,” he answered promptly.
Through clenched teeth, she gritted, “I mean, why am I not on Earth snugged away in the little closet I had in the prison camp?”
His shoulders straightened, his finger absently scratching at his ear. “You mentioned something about someone taking you from the camp.”
“His name was Tobit, he worked for that Jorkan guy that bossed everyone around. He came to my cabin with reassignment papers. I thought it might be a chance to run, so I didn’t really question it.” She laughed hollowly at her own stupidity. “Next thing I knew, I was tied up in a weird circular room. Then, I just sort of blacked out again.” She wrinkled her forehead. “It would have been easier just to take me out into the desert and…do whatever he was going to do. Why forge papers and stuff?”
Bram tugged at his ear, a tell that he wasn’t sure of his reception. “The Lyarans found you in an escape pod bearing the markings of the Horizon – that was the ship I served on. Maybe this Tobit used the pods as a hideaway for certain…encounters. The maintenance checks and escape drills are predictable. The pods are left strictly alone otherwise.” His head cocked tho
ughtfully. “We don’t know that he intended to keep you on the Horizon either. Perhaps, he thought to launch the pod and have someone pick it up later.”
Lacy hadn’t considered that. “You’re saying that the Horizon might have only been the first stop?”
Bram nodded. “Getting you from the camp to the escape pod was no mean feat. It’s not logical to believe he went to so much trouble to kill you. More likely, something prevented him from collecting you.”
“Well, that’s fantastic.” When she returned, what would stop someone else from pulling that kind of stunt? Life alone was sounding better and better.
Chapter 20
Bram stood behind his station on the bridge of the pirate ship. Sitting so much went against his active nature. They weren’t far enough into the Dead Zone for the assassin to move on them yet. The inactivity already chafed his nerves.
From his position, Bram could monitor his station and keep a close watch over Lacy. He told himself it was to ensure Lyon didn’t make her uncomfortable. Honesty compelled him to admit it was more than that. He couldn’t keep his eyes from her.
She’d twisted her vibrant locks into a messy knot atop her head - again. Her exposed nape drove him to distraction. He knew just how silky soft that sensitive skin would be under his fingers and what it felt like to thread his fingers in the shining waves of her hair. He wanted to dislodge the knot, to wrap her hair around his fist and drag her back to their cabin.
The desire was so real, he’d half-moved to act on it several times before catching himself. However, her safety came first and right now he needed to focus on that. How was he going to survive a month on a shuttle with her? At this rate, he’d have her naked and tied to the sleep surface before the first hour passed.
Transfixed, he watched her practice on the simulator. They took turns monitoring the blackness of space and doing whatever it took to keep their reflexes sharp, their minds prepared to fight. Even Zocan and Lyon constantly talked strategy, asking for his input here and there. For the most part, they had a plan, but contingencies were how Warriors - and apparently pirates - assured success.