MissionMenage

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MissionMenage Page 2

by Cynthia Sax


  “I’ll protect her with my life,” Vegas vowed with no hesitation. She was his. “And the cargo?”

  “It arrives tonight.” His friend’s blue hairy face creased with worry. “I’m glad for the quick in and out, considering…”

  “Considering?” Vegas stilled, his complete attention on the big Ungarian.

  Ug leaned forward and Vegas nearly gagged, an overpowering animal scent permeating his friend’s thick fur. “You have someone asking after you, someone dressed in black, with a pale face and red eyes.”

  Fuck. Vegas placed one hand on the phaser attached to his belt. “Does he know what I look like?”

  “No, but he knows what you want to do. He’s looking for an individual of your species accompanying a shipment.”

  Vegas released his breath. She’d be safe. He stared into the green ale, watching the bubbles rise, contemplating this new development. “The mission will be more complicated, but it is still viable.”

  He glanced across the room. The sequins on the hooker’s bright-red top reflected the light, drawing attention to her generous chest. His mate had smaller, firmer breasts, tipped with pink, pert nipples aching to be plucked. Vegas flexed his fingers, his breathing deepening and his body hardening. Soon.

  “I can’t accompany the shipment,” he decided. Too risky. “Change the orders to cargo only, no passengers.”

  “I never punched it into the system in the first place.” Ug twisted his chin hair around a thick finger. “She refuses to take passengers.”

  “She says they’re too much trouble.” Vegas sipped the ale, wincing at the burn.

  “Yeah, that’s what she says.” Ug frowned, his burly brows meeting to form one continuous ridge over his eyes. “I thought you two had never met, so how do you know that? Oh, right.” He shook his hairy head. “That’s what you’re trained to do. So how will you rejoin the shipment?”

  “I’ll find a way.” Vegas watched the hooker walk away, her hand curled around the big mercenary’s arm, their relationship established in minutes. Daybreak. He sucked back his envy. Mere hours left.

  “Are they true, the rumors?” Ug glanced over his shoulder and dropped his voice. “About the dead planets, the warships, the breeding farms?”

  “Yeah.” Vegas took another swig of the harsh liquid designed for the digestive system of the colorful wolfman in front of him.

  “Grrap,” the Ungarian cursed. “I wish there was more I could do.” His brown-and-yellow eyes gleamed with a zeal for battle Vegas recognized and sympathized with.

  “We are more valuable in our roles,” he recited the Federation line, his voice flat.

  “Yeah, that’s what they tell me.” Ug’s thick-lipped mouth twisted. “The sacrifices we make, huh, friend?” He raised his beverage.

  “The sacrifices we’ve made.” Vegas clinked his tankard against Ug’s. “The rewards we have earned.” Daybreak.

  Chapter Two

  “Since I docked earlier than scheduled, I thought we could hit that bar you’re always asking me to join you at.” Raylee followed the big bear of a man down the wide depot aisles. “The one with the green beer.” Her body vibrated with a recklessness, a wild untamable energy she needed to siphoned off in a safe, controlled way.

  “Not this time, Ray. The client wants his package there yesterday.” Ug waved his electronic clipboard, a feminine pink backdrop plastered across it. “He’s in such a rush that if you’d gotten lost again, I would have shipped it with someone else.”

  Raylee made a face, scuffing the soles of her sturdy boots on the concrete floor. “That happened once. When are you going to let it go?”

  “When it stops being funny.” He grinned, displaying sharp canine teeth. “Which means never.” He stopped in front of a large wooden crate, scanning the tag attached to it into his clipboard. “This is it.” He patted the wood, the deep sound indicating it was solid. “To be delivered to planet Celia, Spectra Quadrant.” He read off the screen. “Do you know where that is?”

  Raylee’s face heated. “It was one time, Ug.”

  “That I officially know of,” Ug mumbled loudly enough for her to hear, but too quietly to warrant a response. He scratched the thick blue fur matted on his right shoulder, his uniform consisting of purple cargo pants and green boots with no shirt.

  Raylee tilted her head and stared at the crate. There weren’t any manufacturer logos or return address labels or any other identifying marks on the shipment except for the tag. “Celia is a different drop-off point, isn’t it?”

  Ug raised one hairy eyebrow.

  “Not that there’s anything wrong with it,” Raylee hastened to reassure him. “It’s just…different.” Her explanation trailed off.

  “Do you want a map? Because I can send you a map.” Ug gave her the clipboard. “You can’t get lost with this shipment, Ray. The Federation will dock my credits.”

  “It was one time!” She glared at him. “And I didn’t say I couldn’t find it. It is only that, normally, I go to the same locations, back and forth, back and forth.” Without looking at the form, she pressed her thumb to the screen, leaving her print behind, and passed the clipboard back. “I’ve never heard of a shipment to Celia.”

  “I have, and that is where the client wants it to go.” Ug waved his clipboard over the sensor. “Since when do you ask so many questions?” The crate shuttled backward in a blur of motion and Raylee’s mouth dropped open.

  “Since when do you move shipments so quickly?” She looked up at her friend and Ug’s gaze immediately flicked to a distant spot over her right shoulder. “You said top speed made no grrappin’ sense.” Her stomach twisted. “You said the shipment would be loaded before we even reached the docking bay, not allowing me to supervise it, and you said the risk of damage to the—”

  “I know what I said. This is an exception. The client is in a rush.” He stalked away from her, his big boots ringing on the shiny depot floor.

  “Everything about this shipment is an exception.” She followed him, her concerns multiplying exponentially. “You know I don’t normally ask about—”

  “Then don’t ask this time. It’ll lose you this contract, Ray. Let it go,” Ug advised.

  She chewed on her bottom lip as the bubbling in her gut percolated to painful levels, a taste of acid creeping up her throat. “I don’t transport living creatures. Ship is a closed system and I can’t have anything onboard I might have to fight with weapons or chemicals.”

  “I asked about that,” Ug reassured her, his gait increasing in speed. She took twice as many strides to keep up with his long legs. “I don’t know why…oh, grrap!” He stopped suddenly, his face compressing with concern.

  Raylee followed his line of sight. A tall, thin man dressed in black talked with a frightened-looking depot worker. The stranger was humanoid, but not human, his skin as pale as death and his hair resembling thin white tentacles. “Who is he?”

  “A Balazoid, a creature you don’t want to mess with.” Ug straightened his shoulders, his countenance fierce and beastly, as he strode forward. Raylee trailed him, all of her senses on high alert. She scanned their surroundings, noting exits and the position of other Federation employees.

  “Whose ship is this?” The Balazoid didn’t bother with social niceties, waving one gloved hand at her freighter, his voice echoing as though traveling over time.

  “Mine.” Raylee stepped forward.

  The Balazoid’s blood-red gaze swept her from toe to head before meeting hers, the impact startling and intense. Exuding from him was a power so dark it pained her, and she struggled to breathe, opening her mouth, gulping recirculated air, a coolness gripping her pounding heart, squeezing and squeezing, until she couldn’t stand it anymore, her knees giving way.

  Then as abruptly as he’d entered her being, he released his hold, dismissing her entirely to address Ug. “How many crew members does she have?”

  “I…have…no crew.” Raylee faced the Balazoid, hanging on to a pillar fo
r support, her chest heaving, the docking bay swirling around her. “It’s a solo freighter.”

  “The human I seek may be inside.” The Balazoid studied her with suspicion as though she was hiding his mystery human in her baggy flight suit. “Inform her I will board her ship,” he told Ug.

  “Like hell you will.” She stood protectively between him and Ship, her hands on her hips, her boots braced apart, and she glared up, up, up at him. Fuck. He was big, almost as tall as Ug. “I don’t know who you think you are, but unless you can show me a warrant from the Federation authorizing your search, you’re not getting on my ship.”

  “Ray,” Ug rumbled a warning.

  The Balazoid’s red gaze gripped her once more, but this time she was prepared, pressing her back against the pillar, her body steeled against his silent bullying. As her heart constricted and her lungs burned, she didn’t blink, her chin tilted upward defiantly. Must…protect… Moisture trickled from her nostrils, the metallic scent of blood staining the air, and the room grew alarmingly dark.

  “She is a woman,” the pale stranger sneered, ending the torture. Raylee sucked in deep breaths of air, her energy zapped, her legs shaking. “I’m looking for a great warrior. He wouldn’t align himself with a weak woman.”

  She clenched her hands into fists and forced her body to straighten. “Why, you—”

  “Ray,” Ug cautioned once more.

  “I will search the freighter in the east dock,” the Balazoid arrogantly informed Ug. “Its captain is male and served in the Federation Elites.” His feet didn’t touch the ground as he moved, his black coat flapping behind him.

  Female-hater. Raylee glared at his back.

  “Get the grrap out of here, Ray,” Ug murmured, slapping a square of pastel-yellow fabric into her hands as he passed.

  Raylee wiped at the blood dripping from her nose as she stomped up the ramp. “Ship, is everything ready for takeoff?” She hurried through the corridor, heading toward the bridge.

  “You must be asking about the cargo, which is safely stowed, as I am always ready for takeoff,” Ship snipped. “I am a class-A freighter, the finest of our kind. I can—”

  “Yes, yes.” She plunked down in her comfy captain’s chair, the leather worn to fit her ass perfectly. “You can reenergize in mere minutes. You are a marvel of modern engineering. You can dazzle me with your specs during the long flight.” The main viewscreen was unveiled, displaying the closed docking port. “Right now, we need to leave Ungaria, heading to the planet Celia in the Spectra Quadrant. I hope you know where that is, because I sure the hell don’t.” She typed the information into her console. “And make it quick before the Balazoid changes his mind about boarding us.”

  “What is one more passenger?” Ship’s question was loaded with sarcasm. All of the lights flickered as energy was redirected to the engine. “We’ve already been boarded by a human.”

  “What?” Raylee raised her head. The Balazoid searched for a human, but no, Ship would never allow an unauthorized entity to invade him, not after…not after. “Where is the human now?” The docking port opened, revealing a sky clear and perfect for flying.

  “Your sleeping chamber.” Ship vibrated under her ass, his engines rumbling to full capacity.

  “Visual, please.” A view of her cabin stretched across the screen. Sexy sat on the edge of her bed, hunched over the microchip in his hands. “That is Sexy, Ship.” Raylee rolled her eyes. “Wreak your revenge on him later. Concentrate on getting us into orbit now.” She pushed the thruster forward.

  “Unlike humans, I can multitask. I—”

  “Ship,” she barked, and they shot forward, the force of their takeoff pushing her back against her seat. Better than sex. She grinned, her teeth rattling, her blood pumping.

  * * * * *

  “Fuck. He hurt her,” Vegas fumed to his robotic twin as he reconnected the android’s battle chip. “Twice. Any other damn woman would back away after the first time, but not my mate.” He shook his head, torn between pride and absolute terror. “She’s fucking fearless and that bastard Balazoid almost killed her.”

  “If you hadn’t incapacitated me, I would have protected her as you programmed me to do.” The android stood still, his skullcap removed, displaying an intricate pattern of electronic circuits.

  “By protecting her, you would have jeopardized the mission and eliminated your entire reason for being.” A spark zapped Vegas’ fingertip.

  “Short-circuit me and I will also cease to be,” the android joked.

  Vegas paused. Footsteps fell in the corridor, small boots stomping on hard surface. His mate. “Silence.” He shoved the android into the storage closet, amidst a collection of primitive archery equipment and a headless synthetic body. “And be still,” Vegas instructed, closing the door, concealing the android.

  The doors slid open and Vegas moved quickly, hugging the wall. “What a day, Sexy,” Raylee sang out, her voice lilting in that way that made his body harden and his pulse rate speed up. Kicking off her boots, she pulled at the fastenings on her body-concealing flight suit. “Sexy?”

  She turned her head, meeting his gaze, and her big brown eyes widened. A squeak escaped her full kissable lips as Vegas grasped her shoulders, flipping her petite form around, facing her toward the wall.

  “What the fuck—” She struggled, and he stretched her arms upward, pinning her.

  “Shhh…” he murmured into the nape of her neck, brushing his lips against her soft skin as he spoke. She smelled of chalk powder and mechanical things, a cock-hardening scent that was all Raylee. “I have you.”

  “You do.” She looked over her shoulder and her eyes sparkled with excitement, not fear. “I’m liking your solution to my problem, Sexy.” She wiggled her ass, rubbing against his groin, torturing his already primed body.

  “I’m not Sexy.” Vegas curled his top lip in distaste at the name she’d given his temporary replacement. He spread his feet between hers, forcing her legs apart.

  “I disagree.” Her husky voice sent shivers of lust down his spine. “This is the sexiest you’ve ever been.” She arched her back, tilting her ass upward in an invitation he had no willpower to refuse.

  Fuck taking it slowly. He needed her now. “That’s because I’m a man, not an android.” Wrapping one hand around both of her fragile wrists, holding her in place, he parted her flight suit using his freed hand. “There’s nothing I can’t do and there’s nothing I won’t do.

  “With this first fuck, I’m going to take you, Raylee, hard and rough, the way you’ve been craving.” He stroked inside her androgynous clothing, skimming his fingertips over the hollow between her breasts. Soft. Female. His. He leaned farther into her, needing more contact, more touch. “I know you want it like that, my cock slamming into your pussy over and over, driving into you so deep you’ll feel me all over.” She shuddered, the musk from her pussy tantalizing his nostrils.

  “Yes, today, I’m going to show you what a real man can do.” He cupped one of her breasts, her gentle curves fitting against his palm the way he knew they would. “I’ll make you mine and you’ll never want another.” He nudged the cap off her head with his chin, her brown curls spilling down her shoulders. It was sinfully soft, the softest substance he’d ever touched in all of his rough life, and he buried his face in the tresses, inhaling her clean womanly scent.

  “Sexy,” she moaned, her ass swaying back and forth, back and forth, like the flicking of a cat shifter’s tail, the brush of her body straining his control.

  “Vegas,” he corrected, his voice choked with desire. “Call me Vegas.”

  “Vegas.” His name dripped off her lips like liquid sex. “I need to touch you.”

  “Later, not now.” If she touched him, he’d come, his balls drawing up close to his body, ready to explode.

  “Until I tell you otherwise, your hands stay on the wall.” He gently unfolded her curled fingers, flattening them, and placed her hands high above her head.

  �
��Move them and I’ll stop.” He covered her form with his, pressing the ridge in his pants between her fabric-covered ass cheeks. She breathed heavily, her excitement adding to his.

  “You don’t want me to stop, Raylee.” He caught her right earlobe between his teeth and pulled. She trembled. “I promise you.”

  “Oh, yes.” She made a low needy sound and every muscle in his body tensed.

  “Yes.” He ripped away the baggy flight suit to reveal the stunning woman beneath. Raylee twitched but didn’t move her hands, obeying his command, trusting him. “My woman.” Vegas dragged his lips over her shoulders, down her spine, tasting her salty skin, feeding on his mate. “My reward.” He greedily cupped and squeezed her breasts with both of his hands, pinching her dusky nipples between his fingers.

  She moaned, the sound sweeping over his skin like the gentlest caress. “I’ve wanted you to do that for so long.”

  “I know.” He’d thought he’d known everything about her yet the surveillance feed hadn’t captured the full extent of her beauty or prepared him for how he’d feel when he touched her.

  “Your android couldn’t hurt you like I can, Raylee.” Vegas glided his palm down over her slightly rounded stomach to her hairless mound, claiming her with his hands. “With desire.” She responded unreservedly to his touch, her flesh warming. “With reverence.” He slid his finger between her folds, her pussy slick with moisture, ready for the cock straining against his pants. “With love.”

  Vegas tugged off his shirt and unfastened his pants, yanking them down, the cool recycled air hitting his heated flesh. “I’ve waited so long for this.” Bending his knees to adjust to her shorter height, he pushed forward, his cock cradled between her ass cheeks, his tip bumping up against her spine. Home.

  “Vegas,” she gasped, waving her ass like a fuck-me flag. The mental ropes securing his lust snapped one by one.

 

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