“Where are they sending us, sir?” Crystal asked, hoping it wasn’t solid waste recycling.
“With all of manufacturing slowed, First Quadrant is at risk for widespread starvation when their supply of nutrishakes runs out. We’ll be bringing in food production from Fourth Quadrant as emergency relief. Therefore, we need your expertise, Corporal Crystal, to deliver whole food meals to the populace.”
“Yes, sir.” Crystal finally took a deep breath, swallowing the disappointment that she was still going to be stuck in the kitchen.
“And me, sir?” Fisher asked.
“You will assist Corporal Crystal. You will be what I believe is called her sous-chef.”
Crystal clamped down on the chortle that threatened to burst free. The Bad Boy of their military class was going to tie on an apron to be her second-in-command in the kitchen.
Oh! How she was going to enjoy this—as long as he didn’t ruin her food with his bitter disposition.
“Is that it, sir?” A touch of resentment shadowed Fisher’s words.
It appeared Corporal Hot Shot wasn’t too pleased with his new assignment.
“No, Corporal. There’s more,” the Major confirmed.
Crystal stiffened as she waited. Could this be more than another cooking job?
“You’ve both shown aptitude for undercover work, so you are going into the field to collect information on the OAS for the Council. Working as Food Preparation Specialists is your cover. You will have the opportunity to interact with the entire population of sector one to gather intel.”
“Sir, if the populace knows it’s the military who has taken over the jobs, how are we going to get any OAS members to trust us?”
“Rumors are coming out of First Quadrant that several high-ranking military officers are working with the OAS to overthrow the Council. You will act as sympathizers to their movement. You will do whatever is necessary to gain access to their core leadership.”
Excitement brewed in Crystal’s chest. This undercover assignment was the perfect fit. She could use her abilities in food preparation and her field training, and the best part was having Fisher assigned as her sous-chef. After her failure in good judgment, she couldn’t wait to boss him around in the kitchen.
* * * *
On the long runabout flight from Fourth Quadrant to First Quadrant, Crystal considered another benefit of this assignment. She would have the chance to reestablish her relationship with Stepho and Henri, two refugees from the First Quadrant she’d met shortly after the first terrorist attacks.
When Fisher stepped out of the runabout cockpit to take a bio-break, Crystal let autopilot fly the craft while she daydreamed about the day she met the scientists nearly two moon cycles ago.
Crystal had looked up from the chopping board to find two shell-shocked men entering her mess hall. The first man was shorter and had a head of dark, thick, silky hair brushed back from his olive-toned forehead. His First Quadrant intelligentsia uniform emphasized his broad shoulders and flat stomach, and even though he had the discombobulated look of a displaced person, he still walked with an air of authority.
The taller, brown-skinned man with him was even more slender; his uniform overlapped in pleats where it was clinched in his trousers. Both men sported unshaven jaws and looked like they’d been living solely on nutrishakes.
They definitely needed some of Crystal’s cooking.
She wiped her hands on the towel tucked into the waistband of her military uniform and stepped up to the grill in the middle of the kitchen.
“Sammy, I need two plates of fish and veggies, ASAP.” She wished it were the last week of the moon cycle. Then she’d be able to give these underfed men a hearty piece of beef, but this fish steak was all she had to work with for now.
“Yes, Specialist Crystal. Coming right up, boss,” Sammy replied.
She blew out an exasperated sigh. “Sammy, you’re not military. You don’t have to call me by my rank.”
Her younger sous-chef gave her a cheeky wink. “Just giving you the respect you deserve, ma’am.”
“You’ve been surrounded by military uniforms too long, Sammy. You’ve adopted all their best behaviors,” she said with a touch of sarcasm. Having grown up in a military family herself, she knew all too well the positives and the negatives, but she wouldn’t change any of it. Family was more important than anything else on the planet.
Sammy refrained from replying. Instead, he flipped two beautifully grilled fish steaks onto plates and added a side of roasted root vegetables.
Crystal grabbed two sets of silverware wrapped in cloth napkins along with the plates of food. With her elbow, she tapped the wall panel and waited for the door to the dining area to slide open. Then, she approached the two men who’d found seats at an empty table at the back of the mess hall.
“Here you go, boys.” She set a plate in front of each of them.
The men stared at her, then at their plates, then back at her.
She chuckled softly. “It’s fish steak. Sorry I can’t give you any beef today. Our order comes in next week.”
“Beef? From the Bovidae family?” the brown-skinned man with the short black curly hair asked.
“We didn’t expect anything,” the olive-skinned man said. “We came in here to talk.”
“This is the mess hall,” Crystal explained. “Most people come in here to eat, and you boys look like you could use a good hot meal. Now, eat up.”
“Not until you do us the honor of allowing us to introduce ourselves,” the man with the silky black hair said, using the formal method of address. He appeared to be the senior of the two men; or rather, his natural leadership made him seem more mature.
She nodded her consent at his request for an introduction.
The men pushed back their chairs and stood. The senior man held out his hand, palm up. “I am Doctor Henri, son of Kevin, Robert and Oliver, mates of Cecilia.”
Crystal laid her palm over his and answered, “I am Specialist Crystal, daughter of Jeffers, Thomas and Vanguard, mates of Priscilla.”
He squeezed her hand for a moment, and Crystal sensed a deep strength both in his physical presence and his personality. When he withdrew his hand, Crystal turned to the taller man for his introduction.
“I am Doctor Stepho, son of Santos, Russell and Owen, mates of Angelina.” His voice was soft and deep.
Crystal placed her hand over his much larger, darker one and repeated her lineage. His palm was warm and slightly rough, not what she would have expected from a member of the intelligentsia, who were known for their brain usage, not their physicality.
“Now, sit and eat before it gets cold,” she urged the men.
“Are you able to join us?” Stepho inquired. “We’d be most interested in learning about these food items.”
She quirked a brow. “It’s fish steak and root vegetables. Pretty standard fare.”
Stepho shook his head. “Not in First Quadrant. We have mutton once a moon cycle and green leaves at our nightly meal for those who choose them.”
“That’s it?”
Henri nodded, a lock of his hair falling over his forehead. “We are agricultural engineers, but we’ve never worked with food like this. Sit and tell us about your work.”
Were they serious? She glanced from Henri’s face to Stepho’s darker one. She knew the First Quadrant relied nearly entirely on nutrishakes, but she thought that was because they were convenient and fast. She’d had no idea whole food production was so limited on the other side of the planet.
She pulled out a chair and sat. “Your meal’s getting cold.”
Henri and Stepho took their chairs and began poking at the fish and vegetables with their forks.
“Come on, boys. Give it a try,” she teased. “It doesn’t bite back.”
Stepho sent her a lopsided grin before inserting a forkful of fish between his full lips. His brown eyes closed as a look of pure joy crossed his face.
Stars, the man was good-loo
king for an intelligentsia. She’d always imagined members of the brainy class would be thin-necked and bug-eyed from staring too long at their datapads. Though Stepho was definitely on the too-thin side of what she considered healthy, he had good bones on which to add some muscle mass. A few days of her cooking and a little time in the gym, and he’d be one hot scientist. She particularly liked the way his wide nose complemented his thick lips. Lips that looked as if they would feel oh-so-good kissing their way down her—
“Crystal…Crystal?” The sound of Henri’s voice interrupted her impromptu erotic fantasy.
“Uh, yeah.” She turned to face the other scientist, hoping her cheeks weren’t too flushed from her overactive imagination.
Henri pointed his fork at his plate. “What soil type produces vegetables such as these?”
“It’s a mix of organic materials and minerals. I’m merely a Food Preparation Specialist, not a Food Production Specialist, but I can introduce you to some of them if you are interested.”
“Merely?” Stepho inclined his head. “Who designed this meal?”
“I did,” she said. “Do you not like it? I can get you something else.”
“Whose directions did you follow?” Stepho asked without answering her question.
“We call it a recipe, and this is one I created myself.” His brusque questions provoked her ire, causing her own words to come out clipped.
Henri laid his hand over hers where it rested on the table. “Please forgive Stepho. He tends to lose his manners when he gets excited by his research.”
“Research?” She waved at their plates. “We just call this evening meal around here.”
“Do these vegetables come naturally with this blend of flavors? I’ve never tasted anything like them,” Stepho said, seeming to ignore Henri’s comment about proper table manners.
What Crystal found hard to ignore was Henri’s strong hand covering hers. Her gaze skimmed up his forearm to meaty biceps that were evident even beneath his shirtsleeves. How did tapping on a keyboard all day build such strength?
She glanced up at his face, which displayed two long dimples on either side of his smiling mouth. A mouth that looked as tasty as the berry tarts she’d made for dessert.
“If you’ll do the talking, Stepho will get more eating done,” Henri suggested.
Crystal returned his grin, and had to fight to keep it in place when he removed his hand from hers to pick up his fork. Just that brief physical touch had her craving more. She’d like to take both of them back to her personal pod and get to know them each on an intimate level, but she didn’t know how the intelligentsia viewed casual intimacy. Did they save themselves until they were assigned their mate?
Oh, blasters. Maybe these two already had a mate. Why hadn’t she considered that? She would never proposition another woman’s mates.
Then she remembered their introductions. They would have mentioned the names of their woman and the third man, rather than their parents, if they were mated.
Her grin gained in strength. She was going to take a shot at these two. It was a perfect opportunity to expand her knowledge base. Even though she’d had a few sexual encounters with individual men, she’d never moved on to two men at once. How much better it would be to do it with two men of her own choosing, rather than waiting for the men the Council would assign to her.
“Yo, Crystal.” Fisher snapped his fingers in front of Crystal’s glassy gaze. “Care to join the rest of us on Profortuna?”
She jerked in the pilot’s chair, and her usually pale cheeks took on a decidedly red color. What he’d give to know whom she’d been fantasizing about. He didn’t flatter himself and assume she was thinking about their encounter in the storage bench. It had been damn good, but with the anger she still showed toward him, he didn’t think she was daydreaming about him. And if she ever found out about his little trick, she would be furious with him for the rest of their natural lives.
So, who was the mystery man? And why the hellitude did it piss Fisher off to think about her with someone else?
It was a good thing he hadn’t been assigned as one of her three mates because he would have to maim the other two men based on these irrational surges of resentment against his imaginary rivals.
She tapped a few commands into the control board in front of her. “W-we’ll be nearing First Quadrant soon. Do you want to take us in?”
Oh, yeah. She was feeling embarrassed about something. She never willingly gave up the pilot seat. Flying was one of her passions, along with cooking and soldiering. She was pretty damn good at sex, too.
And she’d just handed him the perfect diversion for the remainder of this monotonous flight. He was going to enjoy finding out what she’d been thinking about so deeply, or at least, he’d use the opportunity to get into her trousers again—and wipe away her memories of any other men.
“Nah, keep the chair. I don’t mind the view from the co-pilot’s seat.” He slid his long frame into the tight space. “So, Crystal, I couldn’t help notice you seemed lost in your thoughts. Anything you’d like to share with the rest of us?”
She glared at him, but then smiled. “Do you always refer to yourself and your manly bits as separate identities?”
He chuckled. “Manly bits? We both know what I’ve got is significantly more than that.”
She huffed out a “ha” sound, then shrugged. “You think you’re the biggest I’ve had?”
And that made his anger spike. No man liked a woman throwing around comments like that. It had absolutely nothing to do with the kernel of jealousy he felt like a lead weight in his gut.
“Don’t go there, Crystal,” he warned.
“Where? To the land of truth? Can’t you handle it, Fishy?” She used his old nickname from the Academy, the one that had him getting into more than his fair share of fistfights.
But this time, instead of feeling as if his anger was getting the best of him, he felt preternaturally calm. It was like a switch flicked in his brain, and understanding clarified his thoughts. She was baiting him. Not unlike he had baited her in that storage bench. Whatever she’d been daydreaming about had got her stirred up, and she was looking at him to put her out of her discomfort.
He swallowed a smirk as he checked the radar screen for their flight distance to sector one. Not nearly as much time as he’d like, but he’d make the most of what he could get.
“Crystal, darling, you couldn’t possibly have gotten a good look in that cramped compartment.” He unlocked the co-pilot’s chair and swiveled it ninety degrees to the left, so he faced her chair. Then he opened his trousers and palmed his growing cock. “Why don’t you come over here and get a better look?”
Her eyes widened as she stared over her shoulder at his face, as if she were refusing to look down.
He leaned back in his chair, dropped his hands to his sides, as his erection pointed to the ceiling. “Come on, darling. Or are you afraid I’m too much man for you?”
“Ha!” she huffed again. “I bet I could swallow you entirely.”
His cock twitched. Damn, she was good at this game. “Then how about a wager?”
The corners of her mouth slid upwards. “What’s the prize?”
“If you win, I’ll give you the best orgasm of your life. If I win, I get to take you from behind.”
Her mouth gaped slightly as she blinked rapidly.
As far as he was concerned, it was a win/win for both of them; he intended to make sure they each got a killer orgasm. “Better make up your mind quickly, darling.” He checked the control panel. “We’ve got a limited window of opportunity…unless you’re not willing to accept the risk.”
“I know what you’re about, Fisher, but fortunately for you, I like to bring a man to his knees.” She slipped out of the pilot’s seat, moving toward him as she spoke.
And he thought it amusingly ironic that she was the one kneeling before him, but his grin quickly faded when she wrapped her hot, wet mouth around his tip.
His hips jerked involuntarily when she slid a finger down from his balls to play with his asshole. Damn, was she going all the way in? He’d never last if she stimulated his prostrate.
As if that were her intent, she wetted her finger with her tongue and entered his backside. And that’s when she sucked him completely down her throat.
“Blasters!” he shouted with the double stimulation. He held her head between his hands and thrust into her welcoming mouth. Her hums of pleasure vibrated around his cock, making him harder, until all his focus was on the building tension that nearly hurt with his need to come.
She sucked harder, then swiped his tip with her tongue, as her finger stroked his prostrate. His hands clamped around her head, and he let himself go, driving into her mouth with fierce thrusts.
Her free hand grabbed his balls and squeezed roughly.
He bellowed out a roar as he came, unloading deeply into her throat, the eruption seemingly unending. His hips jerked stiffly, irregularly, as his orgasm ended.
He collapsed into the chair, his entire body lax.
She gently slid her finger out of his ass as she licked around his shaft. He twitched violently when she lapped across his tip, evoking a moan from him.
“A little sensitive?” she razzed him.
He lifted an eyelid to glance down at where she knelt between his sprawled legs.
“You better not be thinking of taking a snooze, Fishy. You owe me.”
A growl rumbled in his chest as he sprang from his chair and pinned her body to the cockpit deck in the narrow space between the seats. “And I will deliver,” he promised before taking her mouth in a hard, deep kiss.
His taste mixed with hers, making him want her more, to return the favor and savor her flavor on his tongue.
With one part of his brain keeping track of their imminent landing in sector one, he focused the rest of his attention on stripping off Crystal’s clothes. His one regret from their first encounter was that the tight space hadn’t let him get her naked so he could appreciate all her assets.
Crystals Three Chosen Mates Page 2