The Zone

by Barbara Karmazin

  He bent his head. Kissed her. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, hard and probing.

  Axel rasped his tongue across her clit and slipped his fingers deep inside her.

  She gasped and bucked her hips for more. Her crew, each one of them, loved her as much as she loved them.

  Derek ended the kiss. He reached between her and Serena and tweaked their nipples. A delighted smile lit up his face as he watched them gasp and writhe under the deliberately rough twists of his skilled fingers.

  Jeresa turned her head to watch the view in the mirror above the bed.

  Marcus knelt behind Serena. One strong hand steadied her as he spread the soft, round flesh of her ass cheeks apart for maximum exposure. Warm oil dribbled from his other hand onto the puckered opening of her anus.

  Serena’s face twisted into an expression of startled pleasure. She rocked her hips back, and accepted the initial probe of his fingers with greedy enthusiasm. When he pulled his fingers out, she moaned and tilted her ass in blatant demand for him to continue.

  Sitting back on his heels, he carefully oiled his cock. “Soon, my little bird. Give me a minute to get ready.”

  Garian nudged Serena’s mouth with his cock. She grabbed his erection with one hand, fastened her mouth on him and sucked with practiced ease.

  Axel lifted her hips and slowly pushed his cock inside Jeresa’s empty pussy. Yes! She writhed and humped, shameless in her need for a good fuck.

  Axel increased his pace. His body lunged between her thighs. Hard, demanding strokes filled her over and over again. She wrapped her legs around him, holding him inside her. He braced his hands on either side of her body.

  More fucking, lovely, hard, pounding fucking. He brought her to the edge of orgasm, stopped and pulled back, leaving just the tip of his engorged cock poised inside her aching hole.

  No. Don’t stop.

  She grabbed his arms, dug her nails into his skin. The tip of his cock twitched between the plump lips of her pussy. She corkscrewed her hips in a desperate struggle to claim the full length again.

  He jerked his hips. Slammed his cock inside her. All the way inside. His balls slapped against her ass.

  The shocking power and pleasure of that entry wrung a delighted yelp from her. He leaned closer and rode her with his face inches from hers. Long, hard, relentless thrusts that seared her to her core as wave after wave of endless pleasure pulsed through her with glorious carnal satiation.

  A few seconds later, Serena’s ecstatic cries of shared pleasure and explosive orgasm joined hers.

  Derek and Axel switched places with Garian and Marcus.

  Jeresa fastened her mouth upon Garian’s cock. Tasted the tangy mixture of hot cum upon his skin.

  That was just the beginning of her first night of shared pleasure with Serena as her new crewmate.

  Chapter Twelve

  “We’re rich!” Garian plopped into one of the chairs around the galley table.

  “Nine companies paid us the rewards they’d been advertising for the last year because we found their missing ships at the pirates’ asteroid base.”

  Axel settled into his seat and sipped at the cheap substitute they’d been using for real coffee imported from Earth. “That’s right. We’re rich. We can do anything we want now. Buy more ships. Return to Spacer Central homeport and restore the Niallsen name to glory again. We’ll have entire families of spacer crews fighting to join our fleet.”

  Derek snorted. “Before we do that, we have to refuel. Escaping from that asteroid nearly drained our tanks dry. Where’s the closest fueling station?”

  Axel arched his eyebrows. “I’ve already researched that and reset our course in the ship’s computer. Two days from now, we’ll swing by Asgardholm, Marcus’s birth planet. We should arrive just in time to take a guided tour of Asgardholm’s Winter Festival while we top off our tanks.”

  Jeresa exchanged an excited look with Serena. “Asgardholm has an exclusive and very extensive shopping district. We’ll have a great time putting a dent in our newfound wealth there.”

  * * *

  Why had there been no human contact during their docking? Had Asgardholm abandoned Valkyrie Space Station for their winter festivities? Marcus hoped not. Refueling Nebula for departure was a very critical item on their itinerary. But then again, he was only the ship cook. His boards only gave him access to bids on food supplies and intra-ship life support data. The others should have more concise ship to station internet connections on their boards. The normal clangs and bangs of docking connections and airlock links echoed and shook through Nebula’s bulkheads.

  He swung his chair around and glanced at the captain.

  Captain Axel rubbed his hands restlessly over his shipsuit’s pants legs. His stumps must be itching again. He smoothed the expression on his face to a bland formality, folded his hands under his chin. “Pull up all exterior vids. Get me a direct link to the dockmaster’s office for status on our refueling request.”

  Garian sat in his customary seat and manned the communications board. His hands moved in swift assurance across data links, pulling up screens and sorting through the time and distance-lag of the overlapping transmissions flowing into the ship systems.

  He’d confined his dreadlocks into a loose bun at the nape of his neck as a concession to the changing g-forces of docking. The images scrolling across the main screen covered the spectrum from normal vision into ultraviolet and infrared. The dockside corridor was empty of human workers. Only robot drones large and small trundled and scurried past the bays loading and unloading other ships.

  The dockmaster’s face appeared on the screen. He looked harried, tired and overworked. A sheen of sweat shone on his buzz-cut salt and pepper hair. “Your request for refueling is granted. Due to the short staffing this week and the number of ships already in the queue you’ll have to wait forty-eight standard hours before we can complete refueling. Please have your computer system forward all documentation and payments directly to my office artificial intelligence program.”

  Captain Axel leaned forward, unfolded his hands from under his chin and smiled at the vidcam screen. “Thank you. This is acceptable.”

  Marcus rubbed his hands together and locked down his board. Asgardholm was his birth planet before he’d jumped station twenty years ago to marry into the Niallsen ship family. Forty-eight hours was more than enough time to find a Fenrisscald restaurant on the station where he could treat his crewmates to an evening of old-fashioned down home cooking and feasting.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The headwaiter stared down his long nose and glowered at Gem and Star sitting on their haunches at the high-status restaurant entrance. Smoked glass and chrome dominated the décor. A multitude of potted ferns towered on either side of the plate glass door. “Pets are not allowed on the premises. Leash them, muzzle them and remove them immediately or I will contact the Humane Society to remove these animals and fine you for creating a public disturbance.”

  Star sat up very straight, cocked her head and whined. Gem sneezed to clear the scent of the man from her nose. “Not pets. We full crew. Star no talk. Her voice box broken.”

  Jeresa straightened to her full height of five-six and strode forward.

  Marcus crossed his arms and exchanged amused glances with the rest of his crewmates. His cock strained against his pants. With long black curls pinned up on top of her head and fiery eyes, Jeresa was more than enough woman for any man or woman to handle. Too bad they were in a crowd. What he’d like to do right now was push her against the wall, lift the tight black mini-skirt clinging to the luscious swell of her ass and bang her until she screamed with pleasure.

  She jabbed her finger in her opponent’s crisp white shirt hard enough that he winced under the pressure of her silver-painted fingernails. “They aren’t pets. They’re gene-engineered pit bull guard dogs and licensed crewmembers. Check article fifteen of the animal rights code in regards to restaurants and other public locations. They have as much
right to be in this restaurant as a seeing-eye or assisted-living dog.”

  The headwaiter’s impeccably styled blond coiffure gave him the appearance of an android. He tweaked the internet implant stud on his right earlobe. His eyes went distant as he accessed the data dump regarding Gem and Star’s qualifications. Comprehension replaced the glazed look in his eyes and he nodded slowly. “My apologies, gentle fem. Should I secure two high chairs for your guard dogs?”

  Jeresa crossed her arms. Her full breasts jiggled under her low-cut white blouse.

  Marcus licked his lips and his cock grew even harder and pressed against his pants.

  Jeresa shook her head. “Gem and Star have the intelligence level of six-year-old human children. Regular chairs will work fine for them.”

  Serena took a step back, bumped into Marcus and wiggled her butt against his crotch. Dark and gorgeous, her mahogany brown skin gleamed in stark contrast to the white sheath slit up to her thighs. Her firm buttocks rubbed and teased his cock through the two layers of fabric that separated them. The minx! She knew he couldn’t respond to her teasing without causing a riot. He grabbed her waist and nibbled her earlobe. “I’ll take care of that fine ass for you later, my darling.”

  The headwaiter’s eyes widened.

  Marcus caught his gaze and flashed a lazy grin.

  The man’s mouth dropped open. His face went beet red. He closed his mouth with an audible snap, sucked in a deep breath and finally said in crisp, measured tones, “Gentle fems and sirs, please follow me to your table.”

  Gem and Star trotted after him with tails wagging so hard it looked like they were getting ready to fly.

  The headwaiter brought them to a large oval table in the middle of the restaurant, perfectly situated to give a full view of the other patrons. Another waiter and waitress hurriedly carried two large padded armchairs over and replaced two of the wooden ladder-back chairs.

  Gem and Star jumped into their chairs. Their fur gleamed under the soft lighting, freshly washed and groomed for the festive occasion.

  The waiter and waitress brought six glasses and two bowls of water. They set them out on little white straw mats and handed out six menus.

  Jeresa and Serena took the chairs flanking both dogs. Both women cooed and fussed while they tied large white napkins around the thick necks of their panting charges.

  Gem said, “Food smells good. When do we eat?”

  Laughter from the adjoining tables greeted Gem’s innocent remarks. The place was packed with space-tanned spacers taking advantage of the delay in their fueling schedule to enjoy the local cuisine. A holographic screen above the bar displayed a continuous listing of ship arrivals and departures.

  Three more holographic screens on the walls displayed live-action vids of the festivities taking place on the planet’s surface. Asgardholm had top rank across twenty star systems for their ski resorts and annual Winterfest sports competitions, from precision ice-dancing to hockey to snowboarding and ski racing. Their most famous sport was, of course, their reindeer sleigh race competition. Gene-engineered for size, strength, speed and stamina, Asgardholm’s reindeer were the size of large horses. A trained team was worth millions of credits on the open market.

  One of the dirtsiders strolled into the restaurant and took a seat at the bar. His huge fur cloak brushed the floor in direct contrast to the basic shipsuits and formal wear of the other customers. Five long blond braids with blue tassels tied at their ends trailed down the man’s broad-shouldered back. His fur-lined boots had red and black embroidery on their sides.

  Marcus held up his hand. “Let me order. I know all the best local food selections.”

  His crewmates grinned at him and put their menus aside. As ship cook, Marcus was the best and they trusted him to make sure tonight’s meal would be a banquet fit for kings where they’d be groaning at the end from pure gastronomic pleasure.

  Both dogs cocked their heads. Gem said, “Order meat please. Lots of meat.”

  Marcus chuckled. “This restaurant has a wonderful selection of sausages, both hot and cold. Plenty of meat for you and Star.”

  Derek lifted his head from his comp screen, blinked and stared at the table with a dazed expression on his face. For the past six days, he’d been a walking, talking math freak, totally engrossed in calculations of how to create an artificial airlock field system just like the one they’d found on the pirate asteroid. “No meat for me. You know I’m a vegetarian.”

  The dirtsider at the bar swung his stool around and faced the restaurant. Despite the fact that he had blond hair, the short clipped beard on his face was a blazing red color.

  Marcus frowned. This guy looked just like his Great-uncle Loki. But he couldn’t be. Loki’d died in a sleigh race twenty-five years ago. Holy shit! Loki’s son, Caspian, had only been five when he’d left. That would make him thirty now.

  The dirtsider stood, lifted his arms above his head and shouted. “I won the races at Sleipner, three star systems over, and booked passage on an interstellar liner to make it here in time for Asgardholm’s Festival Race. We offloaded three racing teams into the station pens before my wranglers came down with the Venusian Flu. They’re quarantined in the station infirmary for ten days.” He swiped his hands through his hair, then jerked his thumb at the docking list scrolling up on the restaurant’s wall monitor. “I need new wranglers to load the reindeer onto my ship, the Valkyrie, which is scheduled to dock here in fifty minutes. I’ll pay triple the usual fee for this rush job.”

  Marcus started to stand up. Axel grabbed his hand and spoke in a soft yet distinct voice of command. “What do you think you’re doing? This is none of your concern.”

  Marcus jerked his chin at the dirtsider. “That man. He’s family.”

  Comprehension glowed in Axel’s dark eyes. As a spacer, he knew full well the demands entailed by family. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. He’s one of my cousins.”

  “Nebula is scheduled for departure forty hours from now. I don’t want to have to change our flight plans.”

  Marcus sucked in a deep breath, looked around the table at his crewmates and exhaled carefully. “He’ll need at least four wranglers. We’ll be back in plenty of time.”

  Derek raised his hand. “I’ll stay with the ship. I have too many calculations to do.”

  Axel released his hold on Marcus’s hand. “I’ll stay and handle the dockmaster’s office. You know damn well they’ll try to cheat us if we don’t watch every little thing.”

  Gem and Star perked up their ears. Star whuffed and Gem said, “We go with you too?”

  Marcus shook his head. “The reindeer are afraid of dogs. Your scent will make them panic. He needs human wranglers.”

  Both dogs turned their heads and stared at the dirtsider who was busy repeating his plea for help. A low growl rumbled in their throats. Finally Gem said, “We stay. You take care of Mommy and Serena. Protect them. Promise.”

  Marcus gave a solemn nod and crossed his heart. “I promise.”

  He looked at Jeresa, Serena and then Garian. They shrugged and nodded silent agreement. Garian snorted. “I hope we get to eat this wonderful meal before we become reindeer wranglers for a day.”

  Marcus grinned. His heart skipped a beat. His crewmates were the best ever. Then he rose to his feet and shouted to the dirtsider. “We’ll deal with you.”

  The dirtsider’s name was Caspian Fenris and yes, he was Marcus’s cousin. On the one hand, Marcus was happy to be able to help his cousin out. On the other hand, he was beginning to have some major problems with the way his cousin kept sneaking looks at Jeresa’s cleavage and Serena’s legs.

  At least the food kept everyone too occupied to chatter after they’d ironed out the basic details of their temporary employment agreement. Both dogs were happily munching their way through a selection of little salamis and leberwurst sausages.

  Marcus selected one of the small bread rolls, a broetchen, and broke it open. The smell of fresh
baked bread hit his nose and his stomach started clamoring. He scooped a large chunk of creamy cheese called butterkase from the serving bowl with his knife and spread it across the broetchen.

  He bit into it and the flavors just melted in his mouth the same way he’d remembered as a small child sitting in his mother’s kitchen. Why did it bother him so much when Cousin Caspian openly admired Jeresa and Serena’s obviously feminine attributes? He never felt jealous when all of them bedded down together. Hell, he always got hard as a rock every time he watched Garian, Axel and Derek banging away at them.

  That’s because Garian, Axel and Derek are your crew, a mocking voice whispered in the back of his mind. They didn’t look at Jeresa and Serena as fucking partners. They saw both women as crew and lovers to be cherished forever.

  Caspian wasn’t crew.

  Marcus leaned back in his chair and finished another broetchen. He licked the crumbs from his fingers. It was interesting to realize how much he’d changed over the years since he became a spacer.

  Caspian folded his hands over his stomach. “I want to thank you all again for helping me in my time of trouble.” He reached for his beer mug and lifted it high. “A toast for victory tomorrow at the races!”

  Marcus and his crewmates lifted their mugs and drank a toast. Gem and Star took a long drink of water from their water bowls.

  Jeresa grabbed a broetchen and a hunk of Edam cheese. “When are we leaving?”

  Caspian lifted his arm, pulled back the furred sleeve of his shirt and consulted his wristcomp. “Departure is two and a half standard hours from now.” He sighed. “I hate to rush the meal but we need to arrive at my ship within the next thirty minutes in order to change and let you get acquainted with my reindeer and load them onboard. That will give them time to settle in properly before departure.”

  Axel nodded. “That’s all right.” He raised his arm and snapped his fingers to catch the waiter’s attention. The waiter hurried over to the table. “Bring me the check now and put all the leftovers and those pastries into carryout containers. Thank you.”