A part of her mind marveled at how so small a touch could make her feel so crazy with desire. Another part of her mind was trying to convince her that crazy was a word for someone else. She was ambitious and focused. She didn’t do these kinds of things. This wasn’t her. She gasped as he moved his hips against her, completely derailing her train of thought.
Ballard moved his mouth to her ear. “The feel of your body and your lips . . . All I could think about was seeing you again,” he whispered. His breath rustled the flyaway hairs near her face, sending delicious shivers cascading down her neck.
He brushed her lips with his, and she could only respond with a soft moan.
She reached down and stroked him through his shorts, rounding her palm and fingers to his contours. Sweeping her thumb around and around, she kept pace with the circles he made on the hard point of her nipple. He grabbed the edge of the table with his free hand, and pushed his hips forward into her touch, at the same time kissing her more urgently.
When her fingers moved up to the waistband of his shorts, with the intention of slipping her hand inside so she could stroke him more fully, he swiftly knelt between her legs, moving out of her reach.
“Not yet,” he said, his voice low and thick.
He slowly kissed the length of her thigh from knee to hip, electrifying every nerve in her body. Then he pulled the fabric of her swimsuit aside.
When he flicked his tongue against her most sensitive spot, she inhaled sharply and fell back to her elbows, any last internal protests about how she didn’t do these kinds of things dissolving in a surge of pleasure. Her surroundings faded away, and she was swimming in the sensations Ballard was creating with his hands and mouth.
He swept his tongue side to side for a few strokes and then stopped, perfectly still, until she couldn’t stand it any longer and had to rock her hips.
He gave a satisfied growl, eased back a little, and began to lick up and down with the firm tip of his tongue. The rhythm was just fast enough to build the tension deep within her, but slow enough to make her feel nearly insane with the need for more.
When he pressed his thumb over her opening, she gasped again. He increased the tempo and pressure of his tongue, faster . . . faster . . . She was torn between wanting to prolong the buildup and needing the release to scream through her. Her panting rose in pitch until she was moaning in time with his licks and thrusting her hips up to meet his mouth.
When he pushed his thumb just inside her, the orgasm came so strong and so suddenly, her elbows went out from under her and she fell back onto the exam table. She closed her eyes, losing herself completely. Ballard kept licking as wave after wave surged through her.
She lay there feeling her heart pound in her chest and breathing hard, slowly coming back from the trance of pleasure. Then she began to push herself up, satiated in one sense but now hungry in a different way. Ballard reached for her hands to help her back up and pulled her to his chest. Her entire body was still tremoring with the aftershock of the most explosive orgasm she’d had in . . . well, maybe ever.
After another few of breaths, she’d recovered her balance enough to push away from the exam table. Rising to her tiptoes, she sucked at a spot just to one side of Ballard’s throat and felt his pulse under her lips. She continued down, kissing across his collarbone. When she moved to his smooth chest, she reached down and cupped her hand around his erection, pulsing pressure with her fingers.
He took her free hand tightly in his. “Talia—”
The blare of an alarm drowned out whatever he was going to say, and every muscle in Talia’s body went rigid at the sudden, jarring interruption. She froze in confusion for a split second, her mind jolted from the euphoria that was still tingling throughout her body.
“What’s going on?” she yelled. She grabbed the two ends of her halter, hooked them together at the back of her neck, and worked her top around so it was back on properly. “What do we do?”
Her first clear thought was the startled realization that submarines had no life rafts. Of course she knew that, she’d just never expected to actually be on a sub, deep in the ocean, while an alarm shrieked overhead. Did really great orgasms cause a person’s I.Q. to temporarily plummet?
She pressed the heel of her hand to her temple, silently commanding herself to pull it together. Her addled mind tried to grasp at the possibilities. Was there a fire? Had they been attacked?
Ballard had scooped up the flashlight she’d dropped and was already moving toward the door. In the hallway, the alarm was even louder.
“You need to get back to your barracks,” he said. “We’ve reached the base!”
And then they were running, Ballard going ahead and pulling her along by the hand as fast as she could go. The hallways passed in a blur, strobe lights pulsing along with the alarm, and after a number of dizzying turns Ballard stopped short and Talia nearly skidded into him.
He steadied her with a hand on her low back, and he pointed down the hallway. “Your barracks are down there. Turn right and then left. Stay there, and I promise I’ll find you when I can.” He said it with his lips against her ear so she could hear him over the still-blaring alarm.
He squeezed her hand, and then he was off.
She took a deep breath and ran her hand over her hair, still reeling from the way he’d commanded her body, already feeling like it had been some crazy half-awake dream. She ran in the direction he’d pointed, her heart pounding much harder than their dash through the submarine warranted.
Chapter Six
Still turned on from his encounter with Talia, Ballard took the long route to where he knew the Alpha and Echo crews were now gathering, making a quick stop by his locker to secure the keys he’d gotten from Maynard and taking a few extra seconds to recover. It was probably just as well that they’d been interrupted. Talia still didn’t know about his genetic modifications.
The wound on his calf was starting to burn and itch, and if he didn’t soak it in seawater soon, it would begin to fester. Even without the wound, he—and all of the men—was due for a swim. Their skin would soon start to tighten and then become riddled with painful fissures if they went too long in the drying air. But there would be a submersion tank or two at the base; he just had to hold out until the Sea Dragon was docked.
If Ballard could sneak Talia into a submersion tank with him . . . his arousal began to return at the thought of moving through the water with her lithe body. In the tank, he could show her what he was really capable of, who he truly was. To his surprise, he found the thought of revealing everything to her made him feel hopeful, pleased even. And it wasn’t just the effects of his undercover mission or that he’d been emotionally isolated for so long. It was also the feeling that she was the right person to know these things about him. He saw it in her eyes when he’d told her about the plague. She wanted to help; she was the kind of person who truly wanted to make the world a better place. Even a world that wasn’t hers. He wasn’t sure yet how it would be possible, but he wanted to be able to work with her to eradicate the sickness that had taken his sister.
His thoughts drifted back to the immersion tank and Talia’s body. Exploring her body in water would be so much more sensual and freeing than on dry land . . .
He shook his head. That was a very nice fantasy, but it was unlikely he’d have a chance to play it out; in any case, it certainly wasn’t important. He wasn’t here to romance a woman. Now that they’d reached the base, the second phase of his mission would begin. This moment was the culmination of more than a year of dangerous work, and he’d made enormous sacrifices to get to this point. This was not the time to get distracted by thoughts of a beautiful woman from Above.
He turned down the corridor that led to an assembly room which was across from the ladder leading up to the hatch that would be docked with the base. There was a loud clang, and the sub rocked, throwing him against a wall. He frowned, surprised at the rough landing.
Pressure drilled into his
ears, and he gritted his teeth. The itching in his ears and behind his eyes grew into a sensation that became so painful he stopped, pressing his palms over his ears and squeezing his eyelids closed. If the pressure change was affecting him this way, he could only imagine what it felt like to Talia and the other women from Above. His body could withstand a much wider range of pressures and swifter changes than theirs could.
He flexed his jaw to equalize the pressure in his ears. What was going on? It was too soon to be opening the hatch; the sub couldn’t have completed its docking procedure yet. There was a loud suctioning noise, and then a whoosh of wind through the corridor. Ballard grimaced and his pulse jumped. Apparently someone wasn’t in the mood to follow procedure. They’d catch hell from the captain, at the very least.
He was half a step out into the corridor when the hatch clanked open and a blur of men began to drop through. Lots of men. They headed straight for the room where the Alpha and Echo crews were assembled. Ballard caught the glint of harpoon pistols and other weapons that weren’t military-issue.
Those men definitely didn’t look like the base’s crew.
Hollering and the sound of scuffles confirmed it, and Ballard ducked back around the corner, his breath coming faster on a wave of adrenaline.
This was an ambush. But who would be attacking this operation? Who would even know about it? Raiders would have had to time their ambush perfectly, first breaching and attacking the base and then waiting for the Sea Dragon, all without tipping off the ascent ships’ crews. Maybe there was a mole in their midst—well, someone besides him. He groaned internally. As if he didn’t already have enough to deal with.
He tipped his head around the corner just far enough to watch down the corridor with one eye. Two of the raiders were dragging Captain Rogers across the corridor to the hatch ladder. The way the captain’s legs trailed limply along the floor, it looked like he was unconscious or close to it. More raiders came right behind, wrestling with Vice Minister Casta, who was red-faced and yelling and trying to throw punches. One of the raiders knocked the VM across the temple with a pistol, cutting off his outburst. The VM reeled drunkenly, crashing into the man next to him. If Casta was the mole, he and the raiders were putting on a very convincing show.
Ballard pulled his head back and pressed against the wall, his mind whirling. He needed to get to his locker, where he’d hidden the keys he’d gotten from Maynard. Then he could get into the armory. Once he had some weapons, he’d be better prepared to try to figure out what the hell was going on.
He stole back through the submarine, taking a route that would swing him near the Alpha women’s barracks. He paused, listening. The raiders hadn’t made it this far yet. It was impossible to tell how much they knew about who they were attacking. Maybe they didn’t even know about the women?
At his locker, Ballard pressed his thumb on the lock pad and the door popped open. He found an extra holster, tucked the keys into it, and latched it to his belt. Then he was off through the corridors, his feet as quick as his pulse.
At the door to the Alpha women’s barracks, he waved the keys at the lock pad, which had been installed recently for this rogue operation. Normally, there’d be no reason to lock crew into their barracks.
He opened the door and slipped into the dark room. “Talia? It’s me, Ballard,” he said, his voice low and urgent.
There were gasps and soft cries of surprise. It sounded like a few women were crying.
“Ballard?” There was a rustle to his left, and then the lights came on. Talia stood at the switch. “We figured something bad happened, so we were trying to stay quiet. I think some of the girls have ruptured eardrums from the pressure change. What’s going on out there?”
The rest of the women had poked their heads out of their racks or hopped to the floor to stare at him.
“Some kind of ambush. I don’t know who they are or what they want. They captured the rest of the crew.” His gaze skipped over the frightened faces and then came to rest on Talia. “I think I’m the only one who didn’t get caught up in it. I need to find out what’s going on. Bar the door when I leave, and stay quiet. Don’t open it for anyone except me.”
Talia nodded, a look of determination on her face. “What about the women from the other dome? Echo? We still haven’t even seen them. I assume they’re in another room similar to this one.”
He moved to the door, hating to leave her but knowing that the longer he stayed the more he risked. “I’ll check on them, too. And I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Thank you,” Talia said. She stepped close to him, resting her fingers lightly on his forearm. “And if you need help, I’ll be the first to volunteer.”
Ballard nodded his thanks and allowed a tiny smile.
He put a finger to his lips and reached over to flick off the lights. He felt for Talia’s hand in the dark and gripped it, and she squeezed back. He cracked the door open, looked out into the corridor, and then slipped out. Behind the door, he heard quiet sounds of shuffling and movement. He hoped they’d find a way to barricade themselves in. He waved his keys at the lock pad for good measure, though it was likely the raiders had already confiscated keys from the Ice Cap officers they’d captured.
The armory was closer than the Echo women’s barracks, so he stopped there first. He used the set of keys to get in and turned on the light inside. Cases of harpoon pistols, harpoon rifles, and various daggers and knives lined the walls of the small space. He quickly waved the keys over the lock pads on the cases and started loading up, securing three pistols on his belt and taking as many rolls of ammo as he could fit into his belt’s pouches. He attached two loaded dagger holsters to his belt at the small of his back. It was as much as he could easily carry, and he hoped it would be enough. He tightened his belt a notch to keep it from slipping down under all of the added weight, and then grabbed two rifles.
He needed to get to the Echo women quickly. They were probably scared, and he didn’t want to take the chance that they’d start making noise and attract the attention of the raiders.
He flew through the quiet sub, pausing every so often to listen for the raiders. The Echo women were being held on a different floor, directly below the hatch where he’d watched the raiders bust through.
There were two hatches with ladders leading down to the floor below. He found the one farthest from where the raiders had come in, in case they’d decided to explore. It cost him some time but gave him a greater chance at avoiding an enemy encounter.
On the lower floor, he jogged through the maze of corridors with a rifle in each hand, stopping at every corner to make sure the way was clear.
Not far from the Echo women’s barracks, a burst of raucous male laughter made him pull up short and dart through a dark doorway. He stood against the wall, straining to hear. He couldn’t catch any of the conversation, but it sounded like the voices were receding. He followed, keeping a safe distance.
At a corner, he watched as half a dozen men gathered at the base of a ladder and stood laughing and talking loudly. They all wore dark hoods that covered their heads and faces, and shirts made of the same fabric. One of them pulled his hood down his chin a bit so he could poke the mouth of a bottle through the mask’s opening to take a swig of amber liquid.
“How much you think we’ll get for each of ‘em?” the shortest of the group asked.
“The men or the women?” another said, and they all guffawed.
Ballard’s heart lurched. Women? He told himself they couldn’t have taken the Alpha women. Talia and the others wouldn’t have let these men into their barracks.
Another man swiped the bottle from the one who’d been drinking, sending an arc of booze spraying onto the floor, and tipped it to his own mouth. He finished it off and tossed it to the floor, where it bounced to the wall next to a few other empty bottles. Ballard squinted. The bottles looked familiar.
The men disappeared up the ladder, and Ballard ran forward to retrieve a bottle, and t
hen retreated back around the corner. The label on the bottle had no words, just the silhouette of a leaping marlin, its tail curled and its long pointed nose aimed at the sky.
Black Marlin.
The stuff was a potent mix of alcohol and other substances, tailored to be extremely addictive based on his people’s physiology. It lowered inhibitions and caused extreme aggression, and after years of abuse, it eventually led to muscular tremors and madness. A dangerous—and very illegal—liquid drug.
The identity of the group behind Black Marlin had been the stuff of colony legends for decades. Just because these men were drinking it didn’t mean they were associated with the dealers who made and sold it. If they were, though, they were backed by a drug empire’s wealth. And even if they weren’t, they’d be very violent under the influence of the amber liquid.
Ballard backtracked a couple of turns and headed toward the Echo women’s barracks. He rounded a corner and stopped, his stomach contracting into a ball of ice. The door was wide open and the light inside spilled out into the corridor. He was too late. He pressed his mouth into a grim line, holding in the string of curses running through his head.
He left the rifles tipped against the wall and went to make sure the barracks were empty. One glance inside the disheveled room told him the women were gone. He cursed under his breath and slammed one palm against the doorway. Then he turned, grabbed the rifles, and ran back the way he’d come. If he could make it to the Alpha women’s barracks, he could hide Talia and the others somewhere else. It might buy some time, at least.
When he neared the Alpha barracks, the sound of voices forced him to slow down and then stop. His heart jumped into his throat. The raiders were already there. Leaving the two rifles on the floor along the wall, he took a pistol from his belt, flattened himself to the floor, and crept forward to look. Five masked men stood there, each of them well-armed.
“Give me that, you idiot.” One of them snatched a key from another and boxed the guy in the ear with his open palm. He waved the key in front of the lock pad. The mechanism made a soft click, but the door wouldn’t open. Talia and the other women must have figured out how to bar it from the inside. Ballard couldn’t assume that the barricade would hold up to a beating, though, and the men looked burly enough to break through the hull if they put their minds to it.
Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 117