Star Mates (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Beth D. Carter

  Then he picked her up, tossing her shirt and bra aside. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he turned to the bed, untangled her legs, and threw her upon the firm mattress. Before she could gather her scattered wits, he was on her, pulling clothes away. His, hers, they all disappeared in moments.

  He kissed his way down her body, licking, nipping, making her cry out with pleasure. His hard body pressed against her, branding her. His scent, a blend of sweat, male, and wind, filled her senses. She wanted him, wanted everything about him.

  Raiden flipped her over, brought her to her hands and knees, positioned himself behind her, and thrust forward, impaling with one stroke. Emmarie cried out at the exquisite feeling as he slid in and out, stuffing her full of his thick, fat cock. Her pussy sucked him in, deeper, as she used her walls to milk his desire. She was so wet that a syrupy sound accompanied each thrust.

  Each time he penetrated further, his balls slapped against her clit, as if spanking her on her most delicate part. Her arms collapsed, unable to hold her up any longer, and she fell facedown. Raiden held her ass up by curving one hand around her waist and the other on the bed.

  “Yes, oh God, yes,” she panted. “Harder.”

  “Touch yourself,” he ordered. “Put your hand on your pussy. Touch your clit.”

  She had never done such a thing and the command sounded so erotic that it revved up her heat a notch. Tentatively, she did as he told her to do, pushing her hand under her to where they were joined. She brushed against her clit, rubbing the sensitive little nub. She also felt his hard cock sliding into her, exploring his length each time he pulled out. This also brought his balls banging against her fingers and he let out a groan. The mixture of her hand and his force seemed too much for him, and with another loud moan, his climax shot out of him. He stiffened, jerking once, his ragged cry triggering her own release.

  They collapsed in a pile of sweaty arms and legs. Emmarie could feel their mingled juices running together down her thigh, but she didn’t have the strength to move away and clean up.

  Raiden moved off her, lying on his side. She turned to face him. He stared at her so tenderly it made her heart turn over.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

  “So are you.”

  He smiled, pulled her into his arms, and wrapped together, they fell asleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Over the next few days she hardly saw Raiden at all. The first night he missed coming into the saloon she reminded herself he was a pilot and his missions came first. But when she saw Pike night after night, his missing partner was glaringly obvious. Doubt and suspicion began to creep into her thoughts, and she didn’t like teetering on an unstable balance beam.

  When Raiden did show up for her performances, he was usually accompanied with his new friends, Elliot and Parker. She even saw how Pike was watching the trio questioningly and it didn’t help her anxiety. Whatever Raiden was planning, Emmarie knew she wasn’t going to like it.

  One morning, after another night of not seeing Raiden, she was on her way to the communal showers when she saw him coming out of the men’s side. He flipped the towel over his head, drying his hair. His face was newly shaved. And he whistled while he walked.

  Emmarie stopped in her tracks, staring at him, her mouth dropping open a little in surprise. He was practically on top of her before he realized she stood there staring at him.

  “Emmarie,” he said, pleasure and surprise heavy in his voice.

  “I didn’t see you last night.”

  “No, I was…in a meeting.”

  She could hear the lie in his words. “What’s the matter, Pell? Have I done something wrong?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I hardly ever see you any more. You rarely come to hear me sing.”

  “I’ve been in meetings, Emmarie. I told you that I had to start working again.”

  She believed him that time but still, his evasiveness hurt her heart. “Lately it seems that mentally and emotionally you’ve been a million miles away.”

  “I’m here, Emmarie,” he said, spreading his arms open. “Right here.”

  “Are you? Back home there’s a name for men who get what they want and then disappear, usually taking a girl’s heart with him. They’re called players.”

  “You think I’m like that? That I would use you like that?”

  “I don’t know what to think, Pell.”

  “What I’m doing, I’m doing for us.”

  “That kind of talk makes me nervous.”

  “Shh. Don’t worry about anything, Emmarie,” he said, grasping her shoulders. “We’re going to have a perfect life.”

  And then, right there in the middle of the street, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  * * * *

  “Hey Emmarie,” Pike called out.

  Emmarie stood on stage, trying to figure out a dance pattern for an upcoming song. She paused and waved at Pike. But instead of heading into the back, he walked over to the stage.

  “Have you seen Pell?”

  She shook her head. “I thought he was with you. He said you guys were going on a mission run tomorrow.”

  The compression of Pike’s lips and the frown between his eyes gave truth to the lie. Emmarie felt her heart sink.

  “Come on,” he muttered, holding up his hand to help her off the stage.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To see Willoughbee.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Logan stared at the screen in front of him with tired, aching eyes. He had a sneaky suspicion that if he looked in the mirror they’d be bloodshot. They itched like fuck. He’d spent the past ten hours staring at the small computer monitor, checking transmissions bouncing around through the vacuum of space.

  He had been placed in communication because of his linguist talent. And in the short time he’d been there, he’d managed to decipher and translate not only the Kexian language but the Merloni as well. After all, what else was he going to do in the secluded human colony of Sparta? It wasn’t like Emmarie was breaking down the door to see him.

  How could he have been so wrong about her? When he’d first seen her in her cryo-chamber, he hadn’t believed how beautiful she was. Porcelain skin, pale hair, full lush lips, she took his breath away. And when she’d opened her wide blue eyes up at him, his heart just about jumped out of his chest. He’d thought they had a connection. He’d thought she wanted the same thing that he did, a way to get home.

  And then that damn captain showed up, rescuing them, flirting with her. He had thought nothing could get in the way of the desire to return home to Earth, but before his eyes he watched Emmarie become another airheaded bimbo caught in lust. It was clear he had to rescue her from herself. While her hormones were ringing like a bell Emmarie couldn’t see what she really needed, and that was to get home.

  It was clear he was going to have to save her.

  “Hey,” came a somewhat harsh female voice behind him.

  Logan jumped and turned, spotting the woman he had bumped into when he had first arrived. Instead of greasy overalls she was dressed in a clean, dark blue jumpsuit. Her dark hair was cropped short and swept back, contrasting with her blue eyes.

  “Got you in here monitoring transmissions, eh?” she said as she moved into the room, checking out various computer stations. He noticed a sleek-looking clipboard in her hand.

  “Yeah,” he replied but didn’t elaborate. He didn’t really feel like talking.

  “My name’s Ann, no e.”

  “Logan. Also no e.”

  She laughed. “You’re funny. I wasn’t expecting funny. Most people call you an asshole.”

  He didn’t comment. He could just imagine.

  “But that’s okay with me. Most people call me a bitch, but who cares, right?”

  She leaned over his shoulder and that’s when he noticed her roots didn’t match the dark coloring of her hair.

  “You dye your hair?”
he asked, blurting out the question before he could think about it.

  “Most women in Sparta do,” she answered without taking offense. “Too bad about your hair.”

  “What’s wrong with my hair?”

  “Your coloring won’t win you a mate. Women want their babies born with dark skin, dark hair or at least brown eyes. The market value is less on humans with dark features. You just hit the losing trifecta, my friend.”

  “I’m not looking for a mate,” Logan replied.

  “Neither am I,” she said breezily.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” he asked testily.

  “No,” she answered. “Just bored and thought I’d come and check you out. Truthfully, I don’t know anything about these computers. I’m a mechanic, actually.”

  She tossed the clipboard onto a counter and turned her back on it to look at him. He tried to ignore her as he concentrated back onto his monitor.

  “They have you studying intel from the enemies, eh?”

  He continued to ignore her.

  “Seems to me a linguist would better be suited for something else. Like diplomacy negotiations or something.”

  “They already tried that,” he muttered, reluctantly joining the conversation again. “I walked out.”

  “Oh right. That little rebellion song. I heard about it. I don’t go into Leona’s that often.”

  “Why not?”

  She gazed at him with stark, unfriendly eyes. “All these people trying to pretend that we’re ordinary humans going about our ordinary lives but fucking reality is a lot more screwed up that that.”

  He frowned at the wealth of bitterness underlying her words.

  “Were you born in Sparta?” What made him ask that question, he didn’t know, but he knew the answer even before it completely left his mouth.

  She hesitated for a moment, maintaining eye contact. “No,” she finally answered, her hand rubbing her chest through her shirt. “I was born in captivity, on one of the breeder moons around Unaria. And no, I never knew my parents. My mother was selected for procreation so I’m sure I’ve got some brothers or sisters out there somewhere.”

  He was at a loss for words.

  Then she smiled at him and punched him lightly in the shoulder. “If you want to make a difference, Lingistic-boy, then find us a way out of this hell hole.”

  She turned and walked out of the computer lab, leaving him staring after her. His heart thumped heavily in his chest. How could he possibly do that? How could he hope to save her, let alone save Emmarie and him?

  And then, as his monitor bleeped at him from an incoming transmission from a passing Merloni ship, it suddenly clicked into place.

  He knew.

  * * * *

  “We have to go,” Parker rasped as he ran into the Sunray. “Now.”

  “What?” Raiden demanded. “I thought we had until tomorrow!”

  Parker poked him in the chest. “Pike and your damn girlfriend went to Willoughbee!”

  “Shit,” Raiden muttered and ran a hand through his hair. “I should have told her what was going on.”

  “You agreed to keep your mouth shut,” Elliot warned. “This is the only way we’re going to make this work.”

  “Blowing up the hub is the only way,” Parker reminded him. “What we’re doing is a crap shot but one I’m willing to take since we have to stop the influx of Earthlings into our system somehow.”

  “It’s hard enough to rescue the ones still on the other side of the Rings,” Elliot finished. “And you’re the best pilot.”

  “All right,” Raiden groused. He hated being away from Emmarie for so long, for hiding things from her. “Let’s get going before they shut me out of the grid codes.”

  He hurried to the cockpit and settled into the pilot seat. A funny feeling came over him, and he paused for a second. But then Elliot was promoting him for codes and the ship was being taxied out of the hangar, and all thought fled as instinct took over.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Damn him!” Willoughbee shouted just as Pike and Emmarie walked into the control room

  “What happened?” Pike demanded.

  Willoughbee turned on him. “Raiden, Parker, and Elliot took the Sunray.”

  “But I thought he was going on a raid,” Emmarie said.

  Pike threw her a dark look. “I’m his navigator, his partner.”

  Realization dawned on her. “He went unauthorized?”

  “He went to blow up the hub,” Willoughbee announced. She shook her head. “Damn it. Hotheaded, just like his parents.”

  Ice coursed through her and her head began to pound. Emmarie stumbled back. “What do you mean, just like his parents?”

  “They stole a ship, too,” Willoughbee told her in a tightly controlled voice.

  “And they never came back,” she finished. “I… Excuse me.”

  She turned and stumbled out of the control room. Pike didn’t go with her and she suspected he stayed behind to try to contact Raiden, to try to change his mind. Emmarie thought back to all the conversations she had with him and came to the conclusion that trying to reason with him wouldn’t work.

  She made her way out of the bunker and hitched a ride back to Sparta, grief warring optimism. It was hard keeping from thinking the worst, that she would never see him again. She’d lost so many in her life, however, that staying positive was difficult.

  That night her singing held a note of melancholy. She deliberately sung sad songs to feed the fear within her own soul. Pike had come back and he worked side by side with Leona, and she was glad they didn’t try to console her. Pike looked betrayed and Emmarie figured he was equally as pissed.

  The next couple of days she lived for hope that she’d hear from him, either that or he’d just show up one night during her performance. And each night she cried herself to sleep. She worked hard to sing inspirational songs, songs of rebellion and righteousness. More and more people stopped her throughout the day to listen to stories of revolution and Emmarie began to rely on Hollywood to give her imagination a boost.

  She took to inviting people to Leona’s saloon to tell her stories and everyday the numbers grew. Leona didn’t mind at all because it gave her business a boost. And most of all, it kept Emmarie’s mind on something besides Raiden.

  One day, a week after he’d been gone, Emmarie sat in the saloon telling a story of Paul Revere, when loud noises overhead drowned out everything. People jumped up and ran outside. Screams were heard and Emmarie quickly realized that something really bad was happening.

  And just as she had that thought, part of the saloon exploded. She screamed and felt Leona grab her hand, yanking her along. They exited and it took a moment for Emmarie’s eyes to adjust to the bright light, but when they did she saw the sky littered with small zipping ships, going back and forth, firing weapons. A few ships she saw firing nets, capturing people. In the next instant, Leona tugged at her hand and they were off, running toward the bunker. Heavy smoke lingered everywhere, obscuring the path and Emmarie wasn’t sure if they were running in the right direction.

  Panic was everywhere. People ran screaming. Buildings burned. Fear blanketed everyone. She saw Leona in front of her but a second later, a heavy net fell on top of her. She screamed as her feet were yanked out from under her and she felt herself whooshing upward so quickly that her stomach dropped. Nausea slammed into her and tears burst forth.

  She knew, without a doubt, the aliens who had brought her would be getting her soon.

  * * * *

  Logan walked through the surprisingly elegant corridor, led on each side by a Kexian Sentinel. Unlike the Sunray, this ship didn’t have exposed pipes or wires and every surface was clean and polished. He felt dirty just walking past the white walls.

  They approached a door that swished open, revealing a moderate-size conference room complete with a table and several chairs. A Merloni and a tall, dark-skinned, black-haired man sat, waiting. They both looked up as Logan was b
rought forward.

  Logan paused, still unused to seeing such alien-looking creatures. He felt like he’d stepped into some Hollywood movie. The black-haired man stood and regarded him with disdainful eyes.

  “You are the one that provided the Merloni with the shield code?” he asked, his accent very formal as he overenunciated some of the words.

  “Yes. On the condition that one of the Merloni flies me and my companion, a woman named Emmarie Tice, back to Earth.”

  “Is this human woman Emmarie Tice?” the man asked, holding out a computer that looked like a small iPad.

  Logan glanced at it. “Yes. That’s her.”

  The alien’s black lips compressed. “Then I’m afraid we’ll have to decline your offer.”

  Logan blinked. “What? You can’t do that. I’ve already given you the code! You’ve already raided this place!”

  “This woman is my property,” the alien man reported coldly.

  “What do you mean…your property?”

  “As I believe you are, too. Both of you came from the ship I commissioned to bring you from Earth.” The man laid the computer pad down on the table and nodded to the Kexians.

  Logan’s arms were grabbed. He struggled but his strength was nothing compared to the two huge masses holding onto him.

  “You can’t do this!” he screamed.

  The alien regarded him without emotion. “Of course I can. I own you.”

  And Logan was dragged back through the ship, kicking and yelling the entire way.

  Chapter Twenty

  Emmarie’s Kexian escort pushed her into a room, decorated in white and steel, devoid of any warmth or humanity. Several Merloni waited for her in the sterile environment, like bizarre little people all wearing the same Halloween costume.