by Jaide Fox
The question was, what was she going to do about this situation? She couldn't leave him tied up indefinitely, and she had a very bad feeling that he wasn't going to be a sport about this.
This was the sort of thing that inspired even mild mannered men to violence.
As far as she could see, she had only two choices open to her. She could go through with what she'd started and pretend that had been her goal all along—in which case he'd expect a repeat performance whenever the mood struck him—or she could leave things as they were and hope Sylo and Fuzz would keep him from killing her when he got loose.
She couldn't decide whether the first option was more appealing because she wanted to have sex with him, or because she was so reluctant to face his wrath.
She finally decided, regardless of her reasons, she had to go through with it. If she didn't, she wasn't going to be able to live with herself even if Sharmin decided to allow her to.
"Okay, that's enough of that,” she said a little shakily, looking down at him. She took a deep, calming breath, gathering her nerve for what she was about to face. “I'm going to untie you now."
It wasn't the smartest move in the world, but she had to untie him some time. She thought maybe releasing him would soothe his anger somewhat. She supposed that he'd probably get madder and madder the longer he was tied up, rather than be soothed at sexual release and then freedom. Besides, she thought, looking at him, he didn't look that mad.
Knowing she was probably being an idiot, Cole moved beneath the bed, freeing his legs with an effort and then moving to the other restraints. She'd just managed to get him completely free when she heard him shift on the bed. Cole lay under the bed, wondering whether or not she should come out now.
A thud sounded ominously behind her and suddenly her ankles were seized and she was dragged out from beneath the bunk. She didn't even have time to gasp before he'd flipped her over and was on top of her, plastering hard male flesh against her.
His mouth sealed her lips in a rough kiss that stole her breath away. His tongue surged forward on her frightened gasp, moving inside like a conquering bandit, stealing her breath, her protestation, her will to do anything but lay there and have him impale every one of her orifices.
He growled into her mouth, animalistic, angry. Fury seeped from every pore. Cole pushed at his chest, fighting for relief from his onslaught, to excited to truly struggle as she should. He caught her hands, bringing them up above her head on the floor, clamping them together with one great hand around her wrists.
She was pinned, vulnerable and helpless to his invasion of her senses. He propped on the arm that bound her, using a knee to roughly part her thighs, bringing his free hand down between them to grasp one leg and haul it around his hips.
He stroked his tongue in and out of her mouth. He jerked his groin, grinding up against her spread cleft. Cole gasped, sucking his tongue as he plowed that hardness through her soaked folds, striking her clit like a hot iron.
Flames licked at her insides. Her pussy trembled, burning for his rod to sear her insides, for his seed to quench the welcoming fire.
He tore his mouth from her own, hungrily gnawing her jaw line with his lips and tongue as if he would eat her alive.
"What comes when the slave betrays the master?” he growled against her ear, sucking the lobe between his lips and teeth.
Cole writhed beneath him, moving her legs against his hips, striving to free her arms from the manacle of his hands. “Punishment?” she asked, moaning as he ground hard against her clit, bruising her swollen flesh.
"Pain and pleasure are much the same in equal parts,” he said harshly, scoring the tendon along her neck with ravaging thoroughness.
She shuddered at the sensual promise in his words. “It's pain enough not having you inside me,” she said, making hurt, whimpering noises as he slid up and down through her labia.
He grunted in response, shifting his hips until his cock nudged her vaginal opening. “Why should I give this to you?” he growled.
"You want it as much as I do?” she said, breathing heavily, tightening her thighs around him.
"You are more trouble than you're worth,” he murmured huskily.
He held still, looking down at her, his hair tangled over his shoulders, across his forehead in wispy strands. Sweat beaded on his skin, on her own. She couldn't meet his gaze and the torture she saw there. The pressure built inside her until she thought she'd die from waiting for him to complete her. Cole grit her teeth against the pain clutching her insides.
"If you don't fuck me now, I'll brain you in your sleep,” she said, clenching and unclenching her hands as if that would help.
A slow, satisfied smile curled his lips.
"Sharmin,” she warned when he continued looking down at her. “I can't stand it!” she panted.
He moved his hips in a circle, making her muscles twitch. She bared her teeth at him, knowing she deserved this. It still wasn't going to save him from an ass kicking later.
He nudged her opening, gritting his teeth as he worked the wide head of his cock inside. Cole closed her eyes and moaned, her womb flaring to instant, achy life.
The ship suddenly shuddered all over.
"What the hell?” Sharmin exclaimed, rolling off of her and sitting bolt up right.
"We've got trouble, buddy!” Sylo's voice came to them over the intercom unit.
Sharmin groaned in frustration.
Cole echoed him and got to her feet, grabbed her jumpsuit and began wiggling into it frantically. “This sucks!” she said, having a hard time getting dressed as sweaty, and sticky, as she was.
Climbing to his feet, Sharmin looked at the jumpsuits hopelessly knotted and tied to the bed. “Federation damn it to hell! That was two of my favorite suits!” he exclaimed in dismay.
"How was I supposed to know that?” Cole demanded.
Sharmin's lips tightened, but he didn't waste any more time debating the matter. He rushed from the room. Cole hurried after him.
"We're in deep shit!” Sylo ground out as they reached the cock pit. “I tried to out run them, but no good. They've got us in their tractor beam.” He glanced at Hauk and his eyes widened as he couldn't help but be drawn to Hauk's crotch. “What the hell—never mind. I don't want to know what you two've been doing."
"Don't ask,” Hauk said tightly, turning to glare at Cole.
Sylo glanced from Hauk to Cole and back again. “It ain't none of my business, but if I was you, I wouldn't be going to see Bubba the Futt in my birthday suit. No point in giving the old pervert any ideas."
Hauk glanced down at himself as if he had no idea what Sylo was talking about. The blood suddenly left his face as something occurred to him. “Shit!” Hauk brushed past Cole and headed for the cabin once more.
When he'd gone, Cole moved close enough to the front that she could see the ship that had attacked them in the viewing screen. Slowly but surely they were drawing closer and closer to the ship, which must be a good bit more than four times the size of Sylo's trim little cruiser. There could be an army on the thing, and probably was. “You think it's Bubba?” Cole asked.
Sylo gave her a look. “Just a wild guess, but since me and Sharmin had a little bit of a dispute with him when we left Ustbol and they chased us half way across the galaxy, I'm thinking, if it ain't Bubba, it's somebody he sent to look for us."
Cole wasn't at all anxious to visit Ustbol again ... ever. “I would've thought they would have given up and left the area by now. We were on that planet for a couple of days, after all."
Sylo smiled grimly, turning to study the ship that was reeling them in like a fish on a hook. “They ain't the type to give up very easy. It would've been better if we'd stayed on the planet a while longer."
"With the whoopi?” Cole said disbelievingly.
Sylo shrugged. “It would've been better if we could've stayed on the planet a while longer,” he corrected. “Not that it matters now. I'm figuring we've got maybe five minutes
before they're knocking on our door. All in favor of a fight to the death, say aye."
Sharmin, dressed in a jumpsuit now had returned. Fuzz and Cole glanced at each other and then gave Sylo a look that said they thought he was out of his mind.
"You think we've got a chance?” Sharmin asked.
Sylo didn't bat an eyelash. “Not much, but then we'll have even less once they get us to Ustbol."
"If we're alive, we at least have a chance of escaping,” Cole pointed out. “Anyway, the guy that was supposed to be taking me home is probably looking for me. There's at least a chance that he'll be around to help us escape."
Sylo and Sharmin exchanged a look.
Cole glanced from one man to the other, feeling distinctly uneasy at their expressions. “What?"
Sharmin reddened faintly. “I don't think we can count on help."
"Why not?” Cole demanded suspiciously.
"Because we can't, damn it!"
The ship shuddered again, almost knocking them to their feet. Sylo glanced out the forward viewing screen. “We're out of time, people."
"They'll want to take us alive, if I know Bubba,” Sharmin pointed out.
"Yeah,” Sylo said, getting to his feet and pulling his weapon. “Let's just hope the bounty hunters are willing to hold out for the ‘alive’ portion of the reward."
The door burst open as if it had been blasted with a laser. Sylo and Sharmin aimed their weapons toward the opening waiting to take a bead on the first boarders. A canister flew through the opening and landed on the deck virtually at their feet, a gaseous cloud erupting from it.
"Aw, shit!” Sharmin and Sylo exclaimed in unison.
Chapter Eleven
Cole realized even before she opened her eyes that she was in a place she wasn't going to be happy about. She was lying on something, cold, hard and completely unyielding. Her feet and hands were numb, too. Slowly, she opened her eyes. The room was dim, but the little bit of light still made her head hurt. She didn't know what the bounty hunters had used to knock them all out, but whatever it was, it packed a hell of a kick.
Groaning, she tried to roll over. That was when she discovered her hands were tied behind her back.
Trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey again!
A strange sound behind her made shivers run up her back, and she whirled to see what it was. Fuzz, trussed up just as she was, lay on the floor behind her.
With an effort, she looked around the tiny cell. It was a cell, containing nothing but what appeared to be a toilet in one corner ... not even a bunk. Neither Sharmin nor Sylo were with them.
She glanced at Fuzz again. “You think you can untie me?"
Fuzz began inching toward her, almost like an inch worm.
At least Fuzz seemed to understand what she was saying. Cole just wished the same held true for vice versa and wondered how long she was going to be penned up in here with Fuzz.
Dismissing the thought, she concentrated on moving her hands, trying to shake the circulation back into them so that they didn't feel like useless globs of flesh. Fuzz bumped into her and then rolled over with an effort and inched back again. She held still while Fuzz worked at her bindings. Very likely Fuzz had lost circulation as well, because it seemed to take an awful long time before the binding around her wrists finally began to loosen.
Finally, with persistence, Fuzz managed to untie her and Cole discovered that her arms were almost as useless as her hands. Gritting her teeth, she moved her arms and slung her hands until the pin prickles of returning circulation began to subside, then pushed herself upright and began working on Fuzz's bindings.
She'd almost got the bindings loose when the grinding sound of metal against metal drew her attention and she discovered a door in one wall. A small opening appeared and a tray was shoved through.
Abandoning her efforts, Cole dove toward the tiny opening. “What have you done with Sharmin and Sylo? Where are they?"
A growling, snorting sound was the only response and Cole decided the guard wasn't wearing a translator and wondered, as the slot was closed once more if he'd even understood her. She clawed at the slot and finally managed to push it open a sliver. “Hey! What about the others?” she demanded.
"Cole?"
Cole's heart leapt. “Sharmin?"
"We must be in the next cell over. You okay, baby?"
Cole felt a sudden urge to burst into tears at the concern in his voice. “Yeah. What about you?"
"I feel like hell, but I'm okay. Don't worry. Me and Sylo are working on a plan."
Fuzz made a noise behind her and Cole glanced in that direction. “Sorry. I've got to help Fuzz."
Allowing the slot to close, Cole moved back to Fuzz. “I'm sorry. Hang on. I'll have you loose in a minute."
Her fingers were still clumsy. She had to use her teeth to loosen the bindings enough to untie them. Finally, though, spitting out the fur she'd collected with her mouth, she managed to free Fuzz's hands and turned her attention to untying the binding around her ankles while Fuzz moved both arms and legs to work the circulation back into them.
She discovered her feet were asleep and she couldn't walk. Crawling back to the tray that had been left by the door, she examined it suspiciously, particularly the two cups, but finally decided there was no reason for their captors to poison them. If they'd wanted them dead, they could've killed them while they were unconscious.
The food wasn't bad—either that or Cole was just too hungry to notice it wasn't. In any case, she and Fuzz ate and she felt a good deal better afterwards. Moving back to the door, she used the tray to push the slot back. “Sharmin!” she whispered loudly.
The slot on the door of the cell across from theirs was pushed open. If she strained, she could just get a glimpse of his eyes. A weightless sensation gripped her as their gazes locked. A wave of dizziness followed it. Why hadn't she noticed it before? His eyes looked just like Hauk's—but that was ridiculous!
Unless she'd been right before and he was related to Hauk?
"Yeah?"
It took her several moments to remember why she'd called out to him to start with. “Anything good yet?"
His eyes slid away. “We're still trying to work something out. I doubt an opportunity will arise before we reach Ustbol, though. Just—when they come to get us, stay alert for anything."
He was lying to make her feel better. He hadn't a clue of how they might get out of this. Her heart sank. “Any idea how long that might take?"
She could hear their muffled voices as he turned and discussed it with Sylo. “A couple of days, probably. I wouldn't think it would be more than three."
She nodded. “Fuzz and I will see what we can work up from our end.” She let the slot close and moved to the opposite side of the room, propping her back against the bulkhead. Fuzz was propped against the bulkhead adjacent to her. Cole glanced toward Fuzz. “What do you think? Any chance we might get out of here?"
Fuzz stared at her a moment and then studied the walls, the floor, the ceiling and, lastly, the door. Finally, Fuzz shrugged and began speaking. Cole didn't understand one word of it. She'd never been able to figure out how Sylo understood Fuzz, or at least seemed to.
"A translator would be nice,” she muttered when Fuzz finally stopped speaking.
Fuzz nodded.
Sighing, Cole turned her thoughts inward, wishing they'd at least put her in with Sharmin—or even Sylo. At least she'd have had someone to talk to. She was still frustrated by the interruption to their lovemaking, and wondered if he was as uncomfortable as she. Hell, something was wrong with her if she could think of that at a time like this.
She wondered if it had been pure imagination that had made her think Sharmin's eyes looked so much like Hauk's. She decided it wasn't. She knew she hadn't been thinking about Hauk. There was no reason for her to connect, except recognition. The question was, was there anything to it? Or was it purely coincidence?
Sharmin reminded her a lot of Hauk. He had from the first
. She supposed that was one of the reasons he'd rubbed her the wrong way; that cocky self-assurance that just begged for a little deflating; his devil-may-care attitude about things she felt he should have considered important; a smile that could charm the pants off of 4 out of 5 females.
She'd been attracted to Hauk, though, in spite of what she saw as a host of gargantuan flaws. If she were truthful with herself, she supposed the main reason she'd been so determined to make his life miserable was to hold him at arm's length, because she knew she could easily become another notch on his belt.
It almost made her feel better that she felt much the same way about Sharmin. At least now she knew that the attraction wasn't something that could be fatal. If she'd been as vulnerable to Hauk as she'd feared, she didn't think there would've been a chance in hell that she would've found herself equally attracted—maybe even more attracted—to Sharmin.
To her way of thinking, Sharmin had all the sex appeal Hauk had, but had the added appeal of some sensitivity and even a pinch of vulnerability. He'd made every effort to act like he suffered no doubts or anxieties about himself, but she could tell he wasn't quite as confident as he wanted everybody to think.
It was also very endearing the way he always looked out for her. He might say she was more trouble than she was worth, but, even in the worst sort of circumstances, he showed concern over her well-being.
Cole brought that line of thinking to a screeching halt. What was she thinking to let Sharmin, of all men, get under her skin? He'd bought her for chrissake! It didn't matter that it had probably saved her from a far worse fate, the fact remained.
It must be Stockholm syndrome, she decided.
She couldn't let that man grow on her—like lichen! She had to keep her wits about her. Right now, the main thing was to escape from the bounty hunters, but even that wasn't going to fix her own situation.