Skylar didn’t want to care, either, but if another attack was coming, she couldn’t keep the men here, couldn’t selfishly demand that they attend to her needs. But she didn’t want to say that, didn’t want them to stop.
Cortez drew back, but not far. His hips still pressed against hers, his passion as hard and aroused as Jerick’s, his breathing hard. He looked like he was struggling to gain control, to pull away, and a part of her wanted to draw him back. It excited her to realize how badly he wanted her, to see how clear it was that he would much rather finish what they’d started and take her right there, against the bed. Or… against Jerick? Skylar had no idea how it would work, but she did know she wanted somebody to take her.
His comm beeped again. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped back. For a moment, his gaze lingered, watching her and watching Jerick behind her.
“Cortez here,” he said, not able to disguise the huskiness in his voice.
He swallowed and turned sideways, staring down at the floor.
“We’ve got a problem, sir,” one of his men said.
Cortez could barely focus on listening to Pip over the wristcomp. His blood was pounding in his ears, adrenaline surging through his limbs as if he were in battle, and his penis was so full and hard, he was sure it would tear his trousers in its eagerness to thrust out. No, to thrust in.
He glanced back toward Skylar, though he knew he shouldn’t. He should look anywhere but at her flushed face and full lips. At her bare breasts and tight nipples, skin still damp from where his mouth had touched her. At the way her pants hung off her hips, revealing the lacy waistband of her underwear. Her shirt and bra lay on the deck next to her, and she didn’t seem to care. Her back was arched, her breasts pointed straight toward him.
Jerick’s hand cupped one of those breasts as he nuzzled the side of her neck. His other hand drifted tantalizingly lower, strong fingers poised to dip beneath that lacy waistband and into her. Even as he stroked her and kissed her, his eyes lifted enough to meet Cortez’s, a question in them. Are you coming back? As strange as it was, Jerick seemed to want that. And Skylar was watching him too. She licked her lips, her mouth parting in invitation.
Cortez’s penis hardened even further, and he forced his eyes away, lest he leap back over and take her right there. He hadn’t meant for it to go this far as it was. This was hardly the time for romance—or lust. But when he’d seen what she’d started to do and then had decided not to do, he’d been overwhelmed with emotion. If she had enacted her plan, he and his men would have dropped, easy pickings for the fleet soldiers. And she could have done it. But she hadn’t. She’d decided, for whatever reason, that she didn’t want to hinder them. Maybe she would even help them.
“What is it?” Cortez asked into his wristcomp, knowing Pip would be wondering at the long wait.
“Three more warships came out of the wormhole on the other side of the system. We’ve got less than eight hours before they make it over here.”
“Understood.”
“There’s more trouble.”
“Of course there is.”
“Tek Tek has detected a transmission coming from somewhere inside the prison.”
“A spy?”
“Robot or human, it seems so. We’re not sure which, but none of the hostages have gotten out, and we don’t think anyone has gotten by our teams. Something mechanical seems most likely.”
Cortez looked over at Jerick and scowled. “I bet it’s that second drone. I thought it left through the tunnel, but I was busy trying to defeat the other one. It could have come back.”
“I didn’t see it, but there were definitely two that came out of the borer,” Jerick said.
“Tek Tek is doing his best to jam the transmission, sir,” Pip said, “but it would be best if we could find the source and get rid of it. We don’t want the fleet to know how few people we actually have here.”
“I know. Try to find it. I’ll come up to help shortly. Cortez out.”
As much as he wanted to return to what he’d been doing—what they’d been doing—eight hours wasn’t much time. Three more warships would mean three times the strike teams, robots, and who knew what else. He could never hold the facility against all that, but that wasn’t what he’d wanted, anyway. He needed a ship, not a prison asteroid.
He cleared his throat and turned toward Skylar, forcing himself to look into her eyes, not at her sexy assets… or Jerick fondling those sexy assets. “Dr. Russo.”
“I think you can call me Skylar now,” she whispered, her voice as husky as his.
Good. That pleased him. He wanted to know that she was willing, that she wanted this and wasn’t turned off by having two strange men pawing her.
He liked to think that they weren’t complete strangers now, but he didn’t know her nearly as well as he would like, as he usually did before… His gaze dipped toward the lacy waistband again before he growled at himself and jerked it back to her face—her eyes.
“Can I?” Jerick murmured, his tongue darting out as he licked at her, then nipped her throat.
God, why did he find that arousing?
“Jerick,” Cortez snapped, sexual frustration making it come out more harshly than he intended.
Jerick lifted his gaze, his eyes full of just as much sexual desire, and a sullen twinge of disappointment.
“I need you,” Cortez said. “Actually, I need both of you.”
“Yes, I think we established that,” Jerick drawled.
Skylar rolled her eyes at him, but she didn’t pull away from his grip. For a recently injured man, Jerick had a lot of vigor.
Cortez paced, hoping that would help calm his libido—and his penis. “I want to capture the Black Star before the fleet reinforcements arrive. I arranged for the Black Star to be sent to deal with us. That’s our old ship.” He looked at Skylar, realizing he needed to bring her up to speed, needed to make her a full ally. If she would allow it. He glanced at the other bunk, making sure the pilot wasn’t awake yet. Keiko, he was positive, wasn’t ready to accept an alliance with rogue cyborgs. She’d taken Jerick’s stunner beam full in the chest, though, and was still out like a rock.
“How’d you arrange anything militarily speaking when you’ve been a civilian for three years?” Jerick asked, then told Skylar, “He doesn’t tell me anything. Nothing has changed.”
“If it helps,” she said, “Director Martin, my boss at the university, doesn’t tell me anything, either. It’s always a big surprise if we get grant money and a new project. I’ll come in on a Monday and find out I’m working on something completely different than I expected to be working on for the rest of the year. In this case, I came in on Monday and was told to pack my bags to come here.”
“That’s rude,” Jerick said. “One should wait until at least Thursday to announce transfers to prisons.”
“Are prisons more palatable later in the week?”
“Yes, and cyborgs are too.”
“Jerick, what are you doing?” Cortez couldn’t keep the exasperation out of his voice. They now had hours when he’d expected to have days. This wasn’t the time for screwing around. Literally or figuratively.
“Flirting, sir.”
Cortez stared at him.
“You teach horny teenagers,” Jerick said. “You must recognize flirting when you see it.”
“Isn’t it something you do before you stick your tongue in the woman’s mouth?”
“Well, you’ve known her longer than I have. I was hoping you’d checked all the necessary boxes there already.” Jerick released Skylar, hopefully acknowledging that they had work to do and that further groping would not happen now, but he did grin and rest a hand on her shoulder. “Did he check your boxes?”
“He stayed in his cabin for the whole three-day trip.”
“Sir,” Jerick said. “You do not know how to flirt.” He squeezed Skylar's shoulder. “This is why he’s still single at his advanced age.”
Cortez bit
his tongue to keep from retorting. This silly conversation had already gone on too long.
He couldn’t tell if Skylar was amused, bemused, or stunned by the whole situation. He hoped Jerick’s irreverence wouldn’t put her off. He also hoped that all three of them could enjoy a dinner date later, even if it was while sailing off to a distant and dangerous part of the galaxy.
“Let me explain what I need you two for,” Cortez said, starting again. When Jerick opened his mouth, no doubt to spout further irreverence, Cortez silenced him with a glare. “Dr. Ru—Skylar. Would your sleeping gas work on normal humans as well as cyborgs?”
“Yes. Your brains aren’t any different from ours on the basic biochemical level.”
“What’s the area of effect for one of those vials?”
“Not huge. It’s potent, but as soon as the gas is released into the air, it’s diluted drastically. One of those should be sufficient to knock out people within a twenty-five-foot radius if we’re talking in an open field.”
“Ouch, that’s not very much,” Jerick said.
“In the station’s corridors—or a ship’s, if that’s what you’re wondering about—it would go farther,” Skylar said. “I was counting on that. Further, the vials are inert right now, not weaponized in any way. In theory, they could be attached to a rocket or buried in a grenade and be dispersed rapidly over a greater area upon detonation.”
Cortez smiled, pleased that she’d caught on right away to what he was thinking. “I want to take a boarding party to the Black Star and capture it. There’s a crew of over a hundred on there. It would be a lot easier if we could knock the majority of them out. It would also mean far fewer casualties. If we get the ship, we can then leave everybody behind—everybody who doesn’t want to go—on the asteroid. Skylar, do you have more ingredients? Can you make a couple dozen of those vials?”
She glanced at the cabinets but didn’t answer right away. She might be doing calculations in her head, but Cortez realized he also might have assumed too much. Just because she hadn’t gassed him and his men didn’t mean she was ready to join them as criminals in the eyes of the law. He grimaced at the thought, realizing that was exactly what would happen if she was found assisting them.
He walked toward her, pausing to pick up her shirt and bra, feeling like a heel for pacing around and chatting her up while she was standing there half-naked. Of course, Jerick had been keeping her warm for much of the talk. Cortez wasn’t sure whether that annoyed him, made him jealous, or neither. It should have annoyed him, but he didn’t mind Jerick here, as odd as that seemed. He’d even found it a little intriguing and titillating when they had both been kissing Skylar.
“Skylar,” Cortez said, stopping in front of her and offering her the fallen clothing. “I understand what I’m asking. I don’t want to get you in trouble with the law or presume anything on your behalf. I hope you believe me when I say this will make everything easier and mean fewer injuries—fewer deaths—and that you agree with wanting that. What I propose is that, if things go poorly and we all end up captured, we say we forced you to help us. No matter what happens, we can say that. I would be happy to have you come along with us—I meant that invitation earlier—but if you want to return to your regular life, we don’t want to ruin the possibility of that for you.”
Cortez glanced at Jerick, half-surprised he’d gone so long without saying something irreverent. He merely nodded, uncharacteristically grave, in agreement.
“What if I say no?” Skylar accepted her clothing and looked into his eyes. Wondering if they would force her?
Cortez spread his hand, palm up. “Then we do it the hard way. I am here for a ship, and I intend to get it, one way or another. I do have a couple of contacts on the Black Star. That’s how I was able to ensure Captain Falconer was goaded into volunteering for the mission.”
Jerick snorted softly. “I wish I could have seen that briefing.”
“Maybe Baxtor recorded it.”
“Baxtor is your inside man?”
Cortez nodded. “Lieutenant Varma is over there, too, but I didn’t contact her ahead of time.”
“How sure are you about Baxtor? Because I looked at him when you were talking to Falconer, but he didn’t wink or even acknowledge me.”
“No, he wouldn’t do anything obvious,” Cortez said. “Neither would Varma. I didn’t want them to risk their careers or getting their families back home in trouble. I just asked Baxtor if he could be slightly inept if the situation called for it, or arrange for an accident or two.”
Cortez looked back at Skylar. She was slowly and contemplatively putting her bra on and slipping her arms into her shirtsleeves. He didn’t want to rush her or pressure her, but he needed to know if she was willing to help or not. One way or another, he needed to set plans in motion. He had no doubt that Falconer would send more attacks out to keep him busy and that the eight hours wouldn’t be peaceful.
“I’ll do it,” Skylar said.
Cortez clasped her hands. “Thank you. Jerick, I’m going to check in on the others and on Falconer. Will you stay here and help her?”
“Help her… make sleeping-gas bombs?”
“Let her do the making, but you can get her whatever she needs from the armory—I assume you know where it is. We may be able to use the Black Star’s ventilation system, just as Skylar was looking to do here, but if not, then some handheld weapons that we can use to fire the vials across a distance would be a good backup plan. Better to break the vials open at our enemies’ feet than ours.”
“Oh, you want me to make weapons,” Jerick said. “I can do that. Remember the time I blew up a Hrorak fuel generator with an MRE heater?”
“I do. That’s why I know you can handle this.”
Cortez released Skylar, keeping himself from glancing downward—she had put her shirt back on but hadn’t fastened the buttons, and somehow, the partial view was just as stimulating as the full view had been.
A faint groan came from the other bed, startling him. Right, they weren’t alone.
“Jerick, lock the pilot back in her cell or tie her up. Something.” Cortez raised his eyebrows at Skylar. “I assume she’s not going to be on board with helping us.”
“Not at this time.”
“And we don’t want her to be able to testify against you later. Jerick, be a convincing captor. No kissing and fondling each other while the pilot watches on.”
“Hell, Captain, you can take the fun out of anything,” Jerick said.
“You still get to make weapons.”
“I guess that’s almost as good as fondling a woman.”
Skylar rolled her eyes again. Cortez grinned, liking her more with every passing minute. He jogged out the door, hoping he could make this all come together and that they could all have that peaceful dinner eventually, perhaps while looking out over some beautiful nebula and getting to know each other. Or flirting, as Jerick might have called it.
An alarm went off as he stepped into the corridor. First things first.
11
“What’s going on?” Keiko asked when she regained full consciousness.
It had only been two minutes since Cortez walked out the door, but Skylar had buttoned her shirt and stood by her makeshift laboratory, dragging out more bottles of chemicals so she could create another dozen vials. Or had it been two dozen? Cortez didn’t deal in small change.
Keiko grunted, trying to sit up, but Jerick had found fast-ties and bound her wrists and ankles, so she struggled. Even though Keiko wasn’t hurt, aside from the nausea she likely felt in the aftermath of the stun, Skylar sympathized with her discomfort and feeling of helplessness.
She wished Jerick had decided to take Keiko to a cell rather than tying her and leaving her here as a witness, but when she’d suggested it, he’d seemed unwilling to leave her alone here. He’d glanced at the door, as if to imply something was out there roaming the corridors. Maybe something was. She’d heard Cortez’s man reporting on someone or someth
ing sending transmissions back to the warship.
Whatever was going on out there, it hadn’t been enough to seriously worry the two men, or they wouldn’t have thought it was a good time for kissing. More than kissing. Skylar blushed and glanced at Jerick, who leaned against a wall by Branigan’s desk, his stunner loosely pointed toward her for verisimilitude.
Now that some time had passed, she was stunned that she’d allowed the two men to pin her between them, to touch her and kiss her and… How far would it have gone if they hadn’t been interrupted? She couldn’t deny she’d been aroused—it hadn’t even occurred to her to push them away. Having so many hands on her, stroking and rubbing and teasing, had made her feel like a goddess being worshipped. Her body had been humming with such pleasure that her mind had completely checked out.
That never happened to her, even in the middle of sex itself. Damian had often told her to “stop thinking,” but her brain had never worked that way. Until now. She blushed harder as she remembered grabbing the men, rubbing against them and hoping one of them would take her. Or both of them would. How would it even work? Would they take turns or would it be more… risqué? She was embarrassingly naive in such areas, having had only a handful of serious boyfriends over the years. And they’d all leaned toward the un-experimental side. Not that she’d ever given any indication that she wanted someone experimental. She wasn’t experimental. Or at least she never had been.
“Skylar?” Keiko prompted. “Are you allowed to talk?”
“Sorry, Keiko.” Skylar yanked her mind back to the moment. She was supposed to be making weapons, under apparent duress, not fantasizing about threesomes. “I think so.” She looked at Jerick as if to ask for permission.
He gazed blandly back at her without saying a word. Was he going to do the strong, silent act? Maybe that was for the best. It wouldn’t take much acting, and with his muscled chest still bare and his legs still in those blazing orange bottoms that screamed inmate, he could do intimidating well.
Unchained_ A science fiction romance adventure Page 13