“Only if you kiss me properly first.” He tugged her back onto his lap and kissed her until she was melting against him and his cock was a rigid bar beneath the lush curves of her ass.
“That’s a much better way to say good morning,” she whispered when he finally drew back and her eyes fluttered open.
“I agree. I would repeat it, but I have eggs to gather for you.”
“We could just have protein bars instead,” she suggested.
“I am very tempted, but I do want to see if I can find out what that wagon was doing out there and I suspect we would end up spending most of the morning in bed.”
“I suppose you’re right. And there’s work to be done.” Her hand cupped his cheek briefly. “But it’s so much better working with the person you love.”
After breakfast, Morgan insisted on checking her breathing mask twice and putting an emergency supply of oxygen in one of Ghost’s saddlebags.
“We’re only going to the edge of the claim and back,” she protested. “Is this really necessary?” He had made her wear the heavy-duty mask that covered most of her face rather than the smaller nose mask she usually wore.
“I’m not taking any chances with your safety, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, but I’m really very good at—”
“—taking care of yourself. I know.”
She opened up the small pack she was carrying to show him the second mask she had packed as a backup. “You see?”
“I didn’t doubt you, but please, Hattie, let me take care of you whenever I can.”
He looked so earnest that her mild annoyance at his controlling ways completely disappeared. “All right, my love. If it makes you feel better.”
“It does,” he said firmly as he led her into the vehicle shed.
Ghost waited patiently against one wall, but she thought he looked rather forlorn. “You know, we really ought to get him his own stable.”
“He is a means of transportation, even if he doesn’t look like your rover.”
“I know, but he feels different.” She walked over and ran her hand through the thin mass of tubes that made up Ghost’s mane. “Don’t you, boy?”
“He can’t respond to you.”
When she sighed and lowered her hand, Ghost immediately butted her lightly with his head as if asking for more. A delighted laugh spilled from her lips. “He can’t, can he?”
After petting the big horse for a few more minutes, she let Morgan lift her onto his back. The ground suddenly looked very far away, and she clutched the built-in saddle with a nervous gulp.
“You won’t let me fall, will you?”
“Never.”
He climbed up behind her with one smooth, powerful movement and pulled her back against his chest. His metal arm came around her waist, holding her securely in place and she relaxed back into him.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Definitely. I’m excited to see what it’s like to actually ride.”
The big automatic doors opened, and they rode out onto the claim. Everything looked slightly different from this perspective and she looked around eagerly. The habitat sprawled across the slight incline behind them while in front of them, the greenhouses looked neat and prosperous, the green of their contents a shocking contrast to the reds and browns of the Martian landscape. The lichen was already spreading, turning the dusty ground into a living carpet. The small rocky hills surrounding their valley rose up against the pale orange sky. She gave a sigh of contentment.
“This is really beginning to feel like home. Our home.”
“Something I have never had.”
“You do now.”
His arm tightened around her waist and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. It was one of the rare warmer days and she could feel the heat of the sun on her face where it wasn’t covered by the mask. They rode in contented silence for a few minutes before she looked over her shoulder at him.
“Can we go a little faster?”
He didn’t respond verbally but Ghost immediately started to speed up. She laughed in delight as they began cantering across the plain.
“Faster?”
“Yes!”
Their pace increased to a gallop. Her hair whipped around her head and she could feel Ghost’s body moving between her legs in a smooth demonstration of strength and speed. Morgan’s firm, warm body pressed against her back. Despite how safe she felt in his arms, the rush of sensation thrilled her. Her nipples tightened and a demanding ache began between her legs. She leaned forward, increasing the pressure against her clit.
“You are aroused.” Morgan’s voice was dark and husky in her ear.
“I didn’t realize it would be so exciting,” she gasped.
His hand moved, reaching up to pluck lightly at her nipple, adding to the thrill.
“Harder,” she urged.
The pressure increased, a spark of fire running from her breast to her clit. He pressed his other hand between her legs, rolling his finger across the swollen nub, as the hard vibration of Ghost’s body rippled through her system. With a startled cry, she climaxed, pleasurable shivers washing over her.
“Oh my,” she sighed, slumping back against him as Ghost’s pace slowed back down to a trot. “I can see why you rangers like your horses.”
“I’ve never had that reaction,” he said a little dryly as he pulled her against his massive erection. “But I certainly enjoy having you along.”
“What about you?” She deliberately wiggled her butt across his cock.
He groaned. “Do you trust me?”
“You know I do.”
With one easy movement, he lifted her up and turned her so that she was facing him. The sudden change in position shocked her but she still felt safe. Dark, hungry eyes surveyed her.
“Do you like these pants?”
“What?” The question didn’t make sense.
“Never mind. I’ll get you another pair.”
Before she could protest, he ran a metal finger across the seam of her pants and they split open, a rush of cool air caressing her damp flesh. Her arousal started to spike again as he stared down at her pussy, fully exposed to him with her legs spread wide across the saddle.
“So pretty. So pink and perfect.” He stroked a cool finger across her naked folds, groaning in approval at the slick heat that met his touch. She cried out as he slid the digit inside her, the cold metal both shocking and arousing, then clenched around it.
“You’re ready for me,” he growled.
“Oh, yes. Hurry.”
He freed his erection with his other hand, then lifted her hips and pulled her down over him. She clung desperately to his shoulders, the sudden shocking fullness almost overwhelming. Her breath came in rapid pants as she tried to adjust but each step that Ghost took jolted her, forcing her further down on his massive cock. Morgan didn’t try and thrust, although she could feel his hands tighten on her ass. He felt impossibly bigger this way and her body quivered, trying to cope with the invasion. He reached between their bodies and placed his fingers on either side of her clit, exposing even more of the sensitive flesh before he began rolling them up and down, the light touch a thrilling contrast to the heavy weight of his cock deep inside her. She hovered on the verge of climax.
“Morgan!” she cried desperately.
He lowered her back over Ghost’s neck, the change in position putting even more pressure on her strained pussy, and began rocking into her with the same rhythm as the horse’s movement. His eyes were focused on where their bodies came together, and she caught a flash of burnished metal before she felt the cool kiss of his finger across her swollen clit.
“Come for me, Hattie. Now.” He pressed down hard on the exposed nub, his finger vibrating, and pleasure washed over her so completely that her vision turned white as her body convulsed helplessly in his arms. He thrust into her, moving so fast and hard that she kept climaxing, a series of mini shocks running through her system until at last he buried h
imself in her, hot jets of liquid filling her as he shuddered and called out her name.
Trusting him to keep her safe, she brought her legs up to circle his hips, wrapping him in her love as his breathing slowly returned to normal. He raised his head and smiled down at her as he lifted her back upright.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She wanted to kiss him but the irritating breathing mask was in the way. “How long can I survive without the mask?”
“Possibly ten minutes, maybe more. There is oxygen in the air, just not enough for a human to survive on.”
Reaching for her mask, she grinned at him. “That’s plenty of time.”
With a horrified look he pulled her hand back down. “You’re not taking the mask off.”
“But I want to kiss you. Just for a minute.”
“Absolutely not. I’m not taking any chances with you.”
She sighed. “How much longer do we have to wear these stupid things?”
“By current estimates, it will be at least another ten years before the oxygen levels are high enough to begin to match Earth conditions.” He hesitated. “There has been some discussion of experimenting in another few years to see how well human bodies can adapt—like the ones who used to live at high altitudes.”
“I’m willing to try,” she said eagerly.
“We’ll see. We still have several years to go before it’s even a possibility.”
“Fine.”
“When we get back to the habitat, you can kiss me as much as you want to,” he promised.
“Anywhere I want to?”
His cock jerked and she laughed.
“Wicked temptress,” he said and pulled her closer. She snuggled against him and let Ghost’s rhythmic movements lull her into a half sleep. When Morgan finally lifted her free, she mumbled a groggy protest.
“We’re almost there, sweetheart.”
That roused her enough to pick up her head and look around. Up ahead, the rocky canyons that formed the far boundary of their claim began to climb into a steep escarpment. From the maps she had seen previously, the ground dropped away even more steeply on the far side of the massive rock wall, dropping down to form one wall of a huge crater.
Morgan brought Ghost to a halt at the bottom of the rock face and helped her down. She looked around with a puzzled frown.
“Looks like the usual Martian dirt to me.”
He pointed to some long grooves in the ground. “These are new tracks.”
Taking a second look, she nodded. “I see what you mean. Everything is sort of churned up. But what are they doing out here? There’s nothing here.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Other than the tracks, the only thing that stood out to Clint was this crack in the rocks.”
She ran her hand up the fissure but even on her tiptoes, she couldn’t find the end of it. After stepping back and studying it, she said thoughtfully, “It looks kind of like a door.”
“A door?”
“Look at how it curves across under that overhang, like that’s the top of the door frame. And if this is one edge, the other could be there, behind that outcropping.”
“That would be a massive door.” He moved closer to the rock, also following the crack with his fingers as far as possible, then tilting his head back to study the rock face under the overhang. “But there does appear to be a small fissure up there as well.”
“It wouldn’t be any bigger than the loading doors at the supply depot.”
“The supply depot,” he repeated, and they looked at each other.
“Could someone be stashing supplies out here?” she asked. “And why would they? There’s plenty of room in the town depot.”
“Except those are all inventoried,” he said slowly. “If someone had something to hide…”
“Someone? It’s a pretty elaborate setup. I can’t see anyone doing this on their own.”
They looked at each other again.
“GenCon?” she asked. “Could that be why they have been so insistent on getting us off of the claim?”
“They certainly have the credits to build something this elaborate—assuming it actually is a door,” he added. “And if they are doing something they don’t want people to know about, it would make sense that they wanted one of their own on this plot.”
“Which is why when Winthrop died, they wanted me gone.” She kicked a small rock across the ground. “But it still doesn’t make sense. They have that huge building in town. They could have ten depots in there and no one would ever know.”
“But people work in that building, plus they do a lot of business there. It’s hard to keep a secret for long, especially in a small place like this. One drunken night or one loose lip to one of Cherry’s girls…”
“Which brings us back to what? What would they be storing?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” he said grimly.
Clutching his arm, she stared up at him beseechingly. “You need to be careful. Those men at the market were willing to get violent.”
“Without much success.”
“Your head might not agree,” she said tartly. “Please, Morgan. I know you’re tough but you’re not invincible. And I don’t think they’re worried about playing fair.”
“I’ll be careful,” he promised with a quick kiss, then smiled down at her. “Since I don’t have any idea how this door opens—if it actually is a door—we might as well go back home. I have an experimental greenhouse to build.”
When he lifted her back on to Ghost, she flinched when her naked flesh came in contact with the saddle. “Next time we go riding, I’m wearing a dress.”
“Is this better?” He mounted behind her, then picked her up and turned her so that she was sitting sideways across his lap, securely clasped in his cybernetic arm. “I’m sorry that I did not consider the consequences. I was just desperate for you.”
“Mm, I like hearing that.”
The ride home wasn’t quite as exciting but snuggled safely in Morgan’s arms, she had no complaints.
Chapter Eighteen
As soon as they returned to the habitat, Hattie went to change her clothes while he contacted Clint. The other cyborg gave a low whistle after he told him about their speculations.
“I’m an idiot,” Clint said. “I should have looked deeper. I just assumed it was solid rock and only did a surface scan. Do you want me to come back out there?”
“No need to make a special trip. I’ll ride into town tomorrow and pick up a scanner from headquarters. I can’t say I’m really convinced; the whole thing just doesn’t make any sense.”
Clint grunted. “How often do the wagons go out there?”
“No idea. Because of the way the land dips, you can’t see that path. Of course, now that I have the monitors, I’ll be able to track them.”
“Track them? Or intercept them?”
He sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Really?”
“It’s just… if all they are doing is driving that route, I’m not sure it really matters. They are trespassing, but that’s a pretty minor offense. They aren’t causing any harm, so do I really want to stir up trouble?”
“Based on the incident at the market yesterday, trouble is already stirred,” Clint said dryly. “Is Hattie behind your sudden forbearance?”
“Of course. I don’t want her getting hurt.”
“I understand why you might want to drop it, but I’m not so sure that whoever is at the other end of this is going to be as willing. Not as long as you’re on that land.”
He sighed and rubbed his brow. “I suspect you’re right. So next step, scanner.”
“You said that Hattie’s husband—”
“Former husband,” he growled.
“—would make periodic business trips where he was gone for a few days. It might be interesting to know if they were on any kind of regular schedule—and see if that schedule matches up with the wagon sche
dule.”
“As much as I do not want to discuss him, it’s a good idea. I’ll ask her.”
“If you need me, let me know.”
“Thanks, Clint.” The bonds of friendship still felt strange to him after so many years on his own, but the camaraderie reminded him of those early days in the military before it all went so horribly wrong.
“Any time. We have to look out for our women, don’t we?”
“That we do.”
After the call concluded, he went to retrieve Ghost. The horse was standing peacefully, absorbing sunlight to power his supplemental batteries, and Morgan put a hand on his back as he gazed out over the valley.
“This is our home now, Ghost, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep it—for Hattie, and for us.”
That evening, he brought up the subject of the business trips. They had finished supper and were discussing the progress he had made on the greenhouse, but part of his mind was still worrying about the problem of the intruders.
“I’m sorry to have to bring this up, Hattie, but I need to ask you about those business trips.”
“The ones Winthrop took? Why?” She frowned up at him as he started clearing the table.
“Were they on any kind of schedule?”
“Yes. About every three weeks, I think. Does it matter?”
“I’m wondering if there is any relationship between when the wagons come and when he was gone.”
“Do you think he had something to do with it?”
He shrugged. “If GenCon is involved, they arranged for the two of you to have this claim. That would suggest that he was at the very least aware of what was happening.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She sighed. “Let me check my records. I made a note when he was away.”
While he started on the dishes, she brought up her calendar. “I was right. It was every three weeks, although not always on the same day of the week.”
“When would he have gone again?”
“Hm. One of the dates has already passed, but the next one…” A startled look crossed her face. “The next one would have been tomorrow, give or take a few days.”
The Good, the Bad, and the Cyborg Page 12