Sex Slaves 03 Waiting for Dawn

by Lorie O'Clare

  Destroying all of the buildings meant the three ships needed to pan out. Trent punched in the new navigation plan for his ship. He watched the screen noting his men did the same. They spread out, preparing for the last attack.

  “Communication is coming in from Grok,” one of his officers told him.

  “We don’t respond until the mission is finished.” They couldn’t afford distractions at this point.

  He moved his remaining missiles into place, preparing them to launch.

  “On my signal,” he said, his finger damp against the button that would fire his weapons.

  “There are more Bortan ships,” Dawn cried out, her hair flying around her when she turned quickly from her view outside the ship to focus on Trent. “Quick. You can shoot them down.”

  He ignored her. That wasn’t the mission profile. And if she’d listened well enough when she eavesdropped on their initial briefing, she knew that.

  “Fire,” he ordered, releasing his own missiles over the designated buildings below.

  His ship launched to the side, moments after his missiles dispersed. At the same time, bright light blinded them as one of the ships to the side of him exploded over the city. He’d just lost one of his men. The mission however, in the eyes of the Gren superiors, had just been successful. Fire burned in his heart, his insides hardening in anger over the loss of a good warrior.

  “Dar, get your ass out of there.” Por Gree spoke through his comm, the leader’s voice serious yet calm. “We’ll send in reinforcements to clean up the dirty work.”

  Trent knew they hadn’t wanted him on this mission. His rank could have gotten him out of it. The chances of none of them making it back alive were high. And he’d just lost a good man. But Trent wouldn’t send anyone into a suicide attack without going in with them. It went against everything he believed. As much as anyone he wanted to see the Bortan wiped out, crushed back to their home planet if not destroyed completely. The mass destruction they had brought on this solar system was enough to justify wiping them out of existence. But no one did his dirty work for him.

  He brought his ship around, ready to take on the Bortan remaining in the air.

  “Dar, this is no time for heroics. We’ve just launched several more ships.” Gree sounded stern now. “Get out of there now. The few remaining Bortan will be handled by the cleanup crew.”

  Trent ignored the order.

  “Heroics is the whole reason you initiated this mission,” he breathed through his teeth, not caring that Por Gree knew his feelings about this assignment.

  A more strategically planned mission could have wiped out the Bortan. The diplomats had argued that moving quickly would prevent leaks and show the Poltarian their good intent in bringing peace to their planet. Too little, too late, Trent thought. They should have attacked the Bortan long before now. He never had understood the minds of diplomats—these so-called peacemakers.

  The Bortan fired, the missile zooming toward them no more than a blinding light before it exploded against his ship. The impact sent him flying. Dawn next to him was simply a blur as she was hurled out of her seat, hitting the wall before sliding to the floor in a heap of clothes and black hair. He forced himself to stand, hurrying to her side to put her into her seat restraints.

  “Counterattack,” she hissed, almost sounding like she was giving him an order as her long hair streamed over her face. “Don’t worry about me.”

  He managed to lift her under her shoulders and dump her in her seat before reaching the controls, focusing on his panel that showed where the Bortan ship was. He could have just as easily looked out the window of his ship.

  “Target is lined up,” the officer on the remaining ship told him, letting him know he was ready to fire.

  “Take him down,” Trent told him, watching as yet another Bortan ship approached them.

  Again, communications from the ground came through his transmission. The officials of Grok had no means of defending themselves, their city barely maintaining its own under the influence of the Bortan. He couldn’t focus on their panicked voices right now.

  Another explosion ripped through the air, the shockwaves lurching against his ship, tipping it.

  “Hold on,” Trent yelled and at the same time the ship shook so furiously he had no doubts they’d been hit. And hard.

  They needed to land, and quickly, their only recourse at this point being to get this thing on the ground, or crash. Flames shout out from behind them, and Dawn screamed something at him. He couldn’t tell what she said though over the sudden sound of wind tearing into the small ship from the gaping hole behind them.

  He took them down quickly, strapping himself into his seat and hoping Dawn had the sense to do the same. The ground came up hard underneath them, jarring his teeth together from the impact.

  With no time to waste, he grabbed the small extinguisher from underneath the panel and attacked the flames with the pungent-smelling gas that quickly put the flames out, but left the small ship filled with a gas that made it hard to breathe.

  “Come on,” he said, grabbing Dawn’s hand and almost dragging her out of the ship.

  All small crafts were equipped with two handheld Rodners, large guns pinned to the walls of the ship and capable of a fair amount of destruction when fired. The long silver weapons weren’t actually invented by Rodner, but when he presented them to King Sorale on Benox as a gift, the king had automatically deemed them Rodners. The name stuck.

  He paused long enough to flip the latches, releasing the top Rodner. Dawn jumped to his side, releasing the bottom one just as quickly. It didn’t surprise him that she knew exactly how to take the Rodner from its housing. The woman had many hidden talents.

  They were barely out of the ship, and Trent was looking around them, getting his bearings, when Dawn flipped her comm around her ear.

  “Pahr,” she said calmly into the mouthpiece.

  At the same time, his comm buzzed. He watched her, curious who this Pahr was, while wrapping his comm around his ear and adjusting the end to his mouth.

  “Pahr, honey,” she said, in a much softer tone than he’d heard her use before. “You need to bring the ship down to Poltar. Lock in on my coordinates and then plot a course just south of here. I’ll come to you.”

  Dawn watched Trent study her with those penetrating black eyes. His expression unnerved her, made it hard to concentrate. Danger loomed all around them. They needed to get the hell away from his ship before the Bortan attacked. Yet her body was distracted by the intensity of his gaze, predatory, dark and mysterious.

  She did her best to focus on Pahr’s whining voice. “What’s wrong, Dawn? We’re all going to die, aren’t we?”

  Having lived most of her life with spineless male sex slaves, Pahr’s reaction shouldn’t have bothered her. But after just a day with Trent, his dominating pompous attitude so alluring, she found Pahr quickly grating on her nerves.

  “Do as I say. No one will die.”

  Trent spoke to someone in his comm. She ached to know what was being said. What he did, how he handled matters, impressed her, her insides tightening when she forced herself to pay attention to her own conversation instead of wondering what made his expression suddenly so tense.

  But she needed to get her ship down here. There was no way she would be left on Poltar again. This planet had nothing to offer her. She had people on her ship who relied on her, and wouldn’t make it without her. And more than likely, whoever came to rescue Trent, wouldn’t be as understanding as he had been with her. She wouldn’t be charged with some crime for trying to right the terrible wrong the Bortan had done.

  Pahr fumbled through setting the coordinates. She wished he had more confidence in himself. But it simply wasn’t in his nature. He was spoiled and continually needed reassuring. Dawn stayed on line with him until she was assured they had plotted the safest course possible to bring the ship down, and then disconnected. All she could do now was get to the meeting spot, and pray she could ge
t Trent to come with her.

  And why did it matter so much to her whether he came along or not?

  Because he still had the Bortan chips. Although in her heart, she knew they would never arrive in Bortan hands as long as he had them.

  “Don’t worry about her,” Trent growled with a fierceness that Dawn hadn’t heard before. “Your Poltar Leap was successful. The Bortan headquarters are destroyed. Now your job is to focus on cleanup. I can take care of myself.”

  Trent yanked the comm out of his ear, looking for a minute like he might crush it in his hands. Dawn guessed his commanding officer was upset with her presence in the mission. A heaviness hit her heart that she wasn’t expecting.

  She’d seen that look before. Trent was frustrated with her being there, and now had to deal with her. It was the same look her father had given her when she’d gone to meet him. And she wasn’t sure she could deal with another man trying to figure out what to do with her now that he was stuck with her. The best thing to do was what she did with her father—leave.

  Chapter Seven

  The Grok security had moved in around Trent’s ship, hurrying passersby on their way, searching the sky with worried expressions, and eyeing the two of them with trepidation.

  Trent said a few words to one of the security men, agreeing to have them move his ship. Amidst the confusion, Dawn managed to move away from Trent, knowing she needed to make her escape, start heading toward where she would meet her ship.

  There was open land to cross, and in all black she was an easy target from the sky. But hopefully the Bortan would see the downed ship and focus on that. Although from the sound of it, many of the Bortan had been destroyed. She wouldn’t discredit the race though, a counterattack would be pending. She needed to get out of there.

  The growing amount of security men watched her curiously when she moved to the edge of the group. She looked toward the end of the street, knowing undeveloped land lay past it. One of the security men said something to her, but she ignored him, turning from the street and hurrying toward the shadow of one of the few remaining buildings in the area. Countryside lay beyond.

  Her heart raced when she reached the building, sweat clinging to her skin under her clothes. She sucked in a breath and blew it out, forcing herself to remain calm. Thinking straight was imperative right now. Focusing on Trent and what it would be like to remain by his side wouldn’t help her. None of it was real anyway. Her thoughts didn’t match the reality of the situation. She was a burden to Trent. That was the simple truth.

  The dry, hot air on the planet didn’t lower in temperature that much in the shade. The two suns kept Poltar quite hot year round. Growing up here, Dawn was used to it. But right now, the heat aggravated her. Her insides recoiled, the urge to strike out, hit something, relieve some of her frustration, made her muscles ache as she clenched them.

  And her emotions made no sense. Fucking Trent last night had simply been pleasure shared between consenting adults. She had no ties to him, or him to her. He hadn’t even wanted her on this mission. For that matter, he didn’t want or need her in his life.

  She shook her head, brushing her hair over her shoulder with her hand while blowing out a breath. There was no reason to be angry. She’d brought all of this on to herself. The important thing was to stay focused on the big picture, the fact that the main headquarters of the Bortan on Poltar had just been destroyed. They didn’t have the prototype chips that would allow them to convert to human form. And she was on her way back to her ship.

  Turning her gaze back to the wrecked ship, the security team working quickly to move it out of the way, a glider left the scene, headed her way.

  Her heart lurched. Trent Dar drove up alongside her, looking outraged.

  The dome slid over him, disappearing behind him and at the same time he reached out and grabbed her arm.

  “Don’t ever run off on me,” he told her, yanking her hard enough that she lost her footing.

  She grabbed on to him, stabilizing herself, but unable to stop him from lifting her easily and placing her not too gently, on the seat in front of him. Taking the Rodner from her hand, he slid it alongside the glider, next to his.

  Suddenly he touched her everywhere, and if it wasn’t for the intense anger seeping from him, her arousal would have been uncontrollable. Nonetheless, her insides pranced with delight that he would come after her. No matter that he was mad. He wanted her with him.

  “I need to get to my ship,” she told him, hoping he wouldn’t see how happy she was that he hadn’t let her get away.

  “Where is it?” he asked, pulling him into her, his long legs pressing against hers on the seat while one arm protectively pulled her against him.

  The dome covered them and he took off, quickly, flying fast enough to leave ground in less than a minute, although he flew low, staying close to the ground.

  “They will be landing on the old Ryl plantation. It’s south of here.” She pointed in the general direction.

  Trent seemed satisfied with her vague directions, veering in that direction, his body relaxing slightly around her. She wished she could say the same of hers. It seemed like he touched her everywhere. Her entire body tensed with awareness, a warmth traveling through her that had nothing to do with the blinding suns outside.

  Heat scoured her skin along her legs where his muscular inner thighs touched her. One firm hand, with long fingers spreading over her skin, rested on her abdomen, dangerously close to the heat pulsing between her legs. Her backside leaned against his chest, firm and swollen with muscles that rippled against her skin. She knew if she relaxed any further against him he would feel the desire that raced through her like electric currents, turning her entire body into one massive pulsing nerve ending.

  Her rear end pressed against his crotch, the length of his cock stretching against her ass. Memories of the night before distracted her. She needed to stay focused on what was going on around them. The glider he’d somehow obtained had no tracking equipment on it. The only way they would know if the Bortan were flying overhead was to look. And the suns made that a difficult task.

  “Why did you run from me?” he whispered the words next to her ear, sending chills rippling through her.

  Suddenly her mouth was almost too dry to speak. “I heard you talking on your comm,” she said, positive that she sounded stupid when her voice cracked.

  Why in all the hells did she suddenly have a hard time talking to him? Sure, he was damned good-looking, and an awesome fuck but she needed to be more in control of herself. She’d known plenty of gorgeous men in her life.

  “Don’t worry about Command Center. They don’t have the power to override my decisions.” Trent misinterpreted her reasons for running. He thought she feared he would get a reprimand because of her.

  The sudden urge to tell her his feelings about the Gren military, to share with her his urge to leave the service, continue on his own as he had before, ran through his thoughts quickly. He had to put them to the side just as fast. Holding her to him was distraction enough, and they were far from being out of danger.

  “Command Center doesn’t bother me. You had matters to deal with, and so do I.” There. That sounded better. She told herself that no matter how cold her words sounded, they would show him that she could take care of herself, that she wasn’t weak.

  She ignored the small pang of regret that hushed through her when his body stiffened. And the heat that swelled inside her when his hand moved over her abdomen, brushing against her skin, igniting flames of desire between her legs was just that. It was physical. He was damned good in bed and it made sense that he would turn her on by touching her. That’s all it was.

  “So you use me to get rid of the Bortan chips, and now you’re done.” His words were cold, his grip on her tightening, crushing her against the hardness of his shaft pressed against her ass.

  She dared to look over her shoulder. But one look into those black eyes was a mistake. She drowned in his gaze, the i
ntensity of how he looked at her, the predator, hard and aggressive—a deadly man by many standards.

  She swallowed with effort. “I didn’t say that,” she managed to say, although she almost choked on her words. The desire to tell him she wanted to stay by his side wrapped around her like a drug, intoxicating, powerful. “My ship needs me.”

  Trent Dar was not a man to play with. If she tried, she would lose.

  A glisten of light caught her eye over his shoulder. Trent noticed her suddenly look away, look past him, her expression changing.

  “Where is your ship?” he asked, glancing in the direction she looked, seeing the ships lowering over Grok.

  Dawn pulled her comm out, adjusting it over her ear quickly. “Pahr, where in the hells are you?”

  “There are Bortans everywhere.” Pahr was terrified.

  Dawn knew this wasn’t something he was good at doing. She knew the poor man fought the urge to run under a table and hide. Seeing the Bortan flying over Grok, which was probably on his view screen right now, would have the man frozen in place with fear.

  She forced herself to sound calm, running her hand over Trent’s, which still rested on her belly, before she’d realized what she’d done. Her heart skipped a beat and she straightened in her seat.

  “I’ve told you before the Bortan can’t compete with our technology,” she reminded Pahr. “Bring the ship down. We are entering the Ryl Plantation now.”

  “Okay, Dawn. I can’t wait to see you.” Pahr calmed down immediately, the reminder that the ship he was in was top-of-the-line helping his fragile nature.

  And it should. She’d paid a small fortune for that ship, having used most of the money left on Ryl after the Bortan destroyed the place. In gaining her freedom, and obtaining an incredible amount of money, she’d paid the price of losing her home, and her mother.

  “I can’t wait to see you too,” she told Pahr, and then ended the transmission.

  “Well, you’ll be seeing him soon enough,” Trent said, a fire burning through him that he didn’t want to acknowledge.