Adam 483: Man or Machine?

by Ruth D. Kerce

  “Ahh.” Her uneasiness faded next to the thrill that skittered down her spine. His tongue felt wet and warm, not like a scratchy, damp washcloth, as was her experience with other eroti-bots.

  He sucked at the sensitive skin below her earlobe.

  “Um…” Geez, he had great lips.

  His voice rumbled low and sexy in her ear. “I can lick and suck other places that will please you more.”

  Her heart pounded against her ribs. They’d definitely improved bot programming since she had last indulged, at least in the sensual stimulation area. She admitted she was intrigued by what he could do. But Adam was still just a machine.

  He reached inside her robe and cupped her bare breast.

  She squirmed in his embrace. “Hey, what are you doing?” His hand felt warm and even slightly callused. She slapped at his fingers, now caressing her skin. She couldn’t believe he was actually fondling her. He seemed to know just how to touch her body for the best response. Every feminine part of her came alive.

  “I’m fulfilling your fantasy, Captain.” He rubbed his thumb back and forth across her hardening nipple, mindless of her swats and protests.

  Her knees suddenly felt weak. His touch excited her more than she ever thought possible. “I did not—” He pinched the bud. “Oh!” She shuddered, unable to deny the pleasure coursing through her body. Too much time had passed since her last orgasm, and even that hadn’t been overly satisfying—the lack of intensity a definite let-down. She really needed to come long and hard. Her body ached for the release.

  But that’s all her reaction was. Built-up sexual tension. Otherwise, she’d be immune to the bot’s touch. He did have great hands though, for a piece of machinery.

  He turned her around in his arms and tugged roughly at one shoulder of the robe, fully exposing her breast. She pushed at his chest, but he was immovable. His fingers squeezed the plumpness, and he again pinched the nipple, slightly harder this time.

  Tyree bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out at the pleasure. This is exactly what I need. And he knows it.

  His other hand slid into her hair, and he tilted her head back. “Stand still. Look at me.” For several heartbeats, he simply stared into her eyes.

  She saw intelligence and emotion in the dark, almost black, depths. No. She was mistaken about the emotion part.

  He thumbed her nipple and pulled her closer, nudging his knee between her thighs. “Order me to suck your tit, Tyree. I will make you come.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but then snapped it closed. She hadn’t expected such words and actions from a bot. She didn’t know what to say, an odd feeling for her. She wanted to blast him for his audacity, but not, if that made sense.

  No way could he make her come simply by sucking her. Bots didn’t have the kind of sucking power required. Their mechanics weren’t that advanced yet. Still… The thought of him trying intrigued her.

  Adam wasn’t like the other eroti-bots she’d been with. He knew more, knew how to excite her. His security training made him more aggressive than a regular eroti-bot. Maybe that’s what threw her off balance, and what made her hot, at the same time.

  The bots and men whom she had associated with in the past were too accommodating and not very exciting. Men always seemed intimidated by her position of power and relation to the Ambassador. Bots always needed to be told what to do, and how to do it.

  Adam didn’t wait for orders, nor was he intimidated by her. In fact, she felt intimidated, and aroused, by him—a combination she wasn’t used to dealing with.

  “Tyree…”

  Her name, spoken in his deep, rich voice along with the intimate brush of his knee, caused moisture to gather between her thighs. Her whole body hummed with awareness. She wanted him to toss her on the bed and take her, despite the doubts she still harbored about him.

  “Submit to me.” Adam lowered his head and lightly brushed his lips against her mouth.

  She jerked back from the tender kiss.

  He cocked his head.

  She’d surprised and confused him, but didn’t explain. He didn’t need to know how she felt about kissing. That would be too personal for a bot. As far as submitting…

  Oh, how tempting to finally allow a man complete control of her body. But then, Adam wasn’t a man. And a bot simply responded to his programming and orders. He didn’t make demands, not in life and certainly not in bed.

  His gaze dropped to her exposed breast, then returned to her eyes. “Let me suck, lick, and bite your nipple. I want to pleasure you, Tyree, with my mouth and my cock. Your body needs fucking.”

  At his explicit words, she simply gaped. At the same time, she knew what he said was true. She did need fucking. Desperately.

  The tone of his voice deepened. “Let me between your thighs, up your…gorgeous ass,” he hesitated as if letting the words sink in, “between your breasts, and deep inside those luscious lips. I want it all, every part of you.”

  Her body throbbed at the image of him and his cock working her over. Yes… He said all the right things to make her hot and needy and unable to resist.

  The intercom buzzed.

  Not now. She stared into his compelling eyes. She wanted to go for it—all of it.

  The intercom buzzed again, its intrusive sound drawing her out of the sensual moment. A denial tempted her, but she knew her duty.

  “Damn.” Shrugging her robe up, she pulled away and stalked to the table beside her bunk. He let her go without protest. She clicked a button. “Yes?”

  “You’re needed on the command deck, Captain,” a male voice announced.

  Well, that put an end to the sexual encounter. For now. Perhaps the interruption was for the best. She needed some think time. “I’ll be right there.”

  Without a word, she stalked past Adam and into the bathroom for her uniform. Work was her priority. Her emotions and needs would have to wait until later.

  Chapter Two

  Tyree studied the military-grade black freighter off their port side. The plasma screen displaying the ship flickered and the transmission turned to fuzz. She punched a vid-button and adjusted the reflector, reestablishing and stabilizing the image.

  “No apparent heading—they’re drifting. No appearance of life from the portholes. Everything’s dark over there. The ship looks abandoned. Communications?”

  “None,” Corporal John Hanson, the Engineer and Mechanical Specialist, reported.

  “High ore concentrates show in their storage tanks,” she observed, the blood thrumming through her veins. She wasn’t sure if the rush was from the possible salvage or from the residual effect of Adam’s words and touch.

  “Shall we board, Captain?” Analyst Mick Ridgeway asked, excitement in his voice.

  “Don’t be so eager, Corporal. Any life detected?” She wasn’t boarding a ship without knowing for certain whether the crew still controlled the vessel or not. She only salvaged ore from abandoned freighters, unlike space pirates, who also trolled the area.

  “Checking now,” he grumbled. Ridgeway activated the sensor reads. A multicolored bar chart of elements popped up on his panel. “Analyzing.”

  Her crew always expected to collect any ore they came across. A large part of their pay came from a percentage of the take. She understood their desire for profit but carelessness wrought problems, especially from taking on an inferior load. Less room in their tanks meant less room for a larger profit if they came across a better find. Her earnings weren’t based on a percentage, so she stood in the best position to make an educated decision about each salvage.

  This freighter, drifting past the control deck viewers, loomed almost as large as her own. Normally, the abandoned ships they came across were small, with crew quarters of eight or less.

  The control deck’s lift door slid open.

  Mick Ridgeway jumped from his seat.

  Tyree’s hand automatically settled over the knife on her belt. When she saw who stepped out, she waved her hand dismis
sively. “It’s all right.” She turned and studied Mick’s rapid breathing. “Relax, Ridgeway. That’s Adam 483, the security bot Ambassador Samou put aboard.”

  “Security bot? The crew wasn’t informed. And a new assignment hasn’t been logged.”

  “You’re informed now, and with barely more notice than I received myself. I’ll post a log entry later.” Ridgeway reseated himself but Tyree noted that he studied Adam from the corner of his eye. She couldn’t blame him. She did the same.

  “Do you have the information I asked for, Corporal?”

  His gaze shifted back to his monitor. “One moment, Captain.”

  Adam strolled around the command deck. Tyree noticed he didn’t touch anything or purposely distract anyone from their duty. One of the female crew couldn’t seem to ignore his presence though. Corporal Ellen Pratt, looking a bit smitten, explained the sensor functions to him as he stood by her station. He simply nodded in response.

  Tyree wondered what he, as a bot, thought. If he even had thoughts, or just processed information.

  “Completed, and no life forms register, Captain,” Ridgeway reported. He flipped on the intercom. “Attention, crew, prepare for salvage.”

  Tyree’s head snapped toward him. “Hold up!” Irritation grated along her spine. She stalked over to the man’s station and, with a sharp snap, shut off the ship-wide channel. “Last I checked, I was still Captain of this vessel, Corporal. When I decide we board for salvage, I will give the order. Do you understand?”

  Mick’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t acknowledge or refute her words. The anger in his gaze spoke plainly enough though.

  The heat of a body directly behind Tyree drew her attention. Adam. She didn’t need to turn to know he stood there.

  “Do you understand, Corporal?” she repeated.

  “Yes, Captain,” he said this time.

  Somehow she doubted he complied because of her order, especially since his narrow-eyed gaze remained locked behind her the entire time. He’d been just shy of subordination ever since he’d come on board. This was his second mission under her command. A couple of months ago, he’d replaced Lieutenant Samantha Nikor, a close friend of Tyree’s, after the woman had become ill and passed away suddenly.

  Tyree felt Adam move away, giving her space. She also noticed Ridgeway visibly relax at the bot’s departure. “What’s the freighter’s atmosphere?”

  “Oxygen, nitrogen,” Mick answered, turning back to his panel. “No detectable breaches on any deck. Habitable without life support equipment.”

  “Very well. We’ll shuttle over a crew to check things out.”

  He abruptly turned back toward her. “Request permission to serve on the team.”

  “Denied.” The man took too much for granted. She didn’t trust him. His enthusiasm and constant presence every time she turned around made her nervous. “I’ll go. Hanson, you’ll accompany. And Adam, you’ll come too.”

  “You’re taking a robot instead of me?” Ridgeway protested.

  “That’s right. You have a problem with my decision?” Even though no life forms were detected on board, it was Adam’s job to protect her off-ship. She didn’t feel the need to reiterate that to the crew.

  “No, Captain,” Ridgeway answered tightly, his mouth forming a grim line. “No problem.”

  Mick wasn’t flying any more missions with her. She’d already put in a request for his transfer. She didn’t like the man or the way he questioned her orders.

  The next time he defied her in any way she planned to punch him in the nose and toss him into a detention cell. “Gentlemen, let’s go.”

  * * * * *

  Adam glanced out the pod’s side porthole. The black freighter they approached looked like a ghost ship in the emptiness of space. He checked his weapon, making sure of a full charge.

  The pod descended through the landing port and into the freight’s expansive bay. Smoothly, the capsule set down on the deck.

  The engine hummed, vibrating the pod’s interior. The power slowly decreased, then faded into silence. The air lock popped and the hatch opened.

  Adam exited the pod first, his laser pistol in hand. Only the pod’s landing lights gave off any brightness, so he switched on his infrared visor and scanned the deck. No organic life forms detected but robots might be aboard and operational. In the immediate area, he picked up no movement or threat. “All clear.”

  Tyree exited, followed by Hanson. She secured the hatch and coded the security lock, as regulations dictated. “Before we salvage, I want to know what happened to the crew,” she announced. “Let’s head to their command deck.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Hanson agreed, scanning the area around them.

  They crossed the bay, keeping watch for any crew members or other signs of life. Adam made sure Tyree stayed between him and Hanson for maximum protection. They entered the lift, which still maintained power, making things easier than climbing levels by hand.

  Adam pushed up his visor and discreetly studied Hanson. He wondered about the trustworthiness of the man. He’d already decided Ridgeway was an ass. He didn’t like the way the Corporal’s eyes followed Tyree’s every move.

  On the silver panel near the door, Tyree pressed a green button. The lift rose smoothly.

  Fully functional. Good. Though he stayed alert for signs of a glitch, just in case.

  Moments later, the lift stopped and the door slid open. Adam stepped out first. The command deck sat dark and abandoned. He moved aside. “It’s clear.”

  Tyree and Hanson stepped out of the lift, joining him.

  “Check the logs, Hanson,” Tyree ordered. She led Adam to an operational panel. “What do you think?”

  He looked over the navigation controls and power readings. “Their engines are toast.”

  “Toast?”

  He inwardly cringed at the casual term. Tyree was a senior officer and not easily deceived. He needed to be more careful in his speech patterns. He would pretend not to notice his mistake. Any other reaction would only further fuel her suspicions of him.

  Deep down, she already knew he wasn’t what he pretended. He saw it in her eyes. For some reason, she kept doubting herself though and hadn’t acted on her suspicions. She just continued to question and test him. She was probably looking for solid evidence before she made a definite decision on what to do. He’d take care not to give her any.

  “The controls are not even functional enough to prevent drift. This ship is not going anywhere on its own.”

  She double-checked the panel readings. “Agreed.” She flipped a few switches. “Overheated, from the looks of the readings. Like they were trying to outrun someone.”

  “I’ve pulled up the logs, Captain.”

  Tyree moved across the deck. Adam followed.

  “They were boarded by a patrol ship. The Commander reported that the security team was searching for someone but no details were entered.”

  Adam’s heart rate increased. He shared a glance with Tyree. When her eyes narrowed, he schooled his features. They both knew patrols only stopped vessels when looking for a criminal or Cyborg stowaway. “What does the log say happened to their engines?” he asked, switching his gaze to the data screen.

  “It doesn’t say anything about the engines or anything else. That was the last entry. No indication of mechanical trouble noted. Or that they tried to outrun the patrol. Nothing about the crew off-loading either.”

  “Strange.”

  “I don’t like it.” Tyree glanced from Hanson to him. “Let’s get a salvage crew over here. Get the ore and get out. I’ll file a report with Space Patrol Command. If they want to follow up, they can. That log entry isn’t legitimate. It’s too incomplete. Whoever boarded them wasn’t a patrol team. If they were and arrested the crew, they wouldn’t leave the freighter out here. They’d have hauled it back to impound. If pirates boarded, the ore would be gone and the crew dead. A Sector 6 slaving vessel, I suspect, overpowered them, which would explain the disappearan
ce of the crew and the fact that the ore wasn’t touched. Slavers don’t have the proper storage tanks on their ships for anything other than human or humanoid-type cargo.”

  Adam nodded. Tyree was correct. Slaving vessels from the neighboring star sector often ventured into this area of space, looking for easy pickings. They might even still be in the area. He’d stay alert, make sure they got the ore and got out of there, as Tyree ordered. Safely.

  * * * * *

  Tyree finalized the salvage report and shut down the computer. “We got a good load today,” she told Adam, who stood stationed by the door, back ramrod straight and hands behind his back. His black outfit, with three silver bars on each shoulder, identifying him as security, made him appear even more mysterious and powerful.

  “You should let your crew handle the takes on salvages. The ship could be a trap, rigged to blow when boarded.”

  She leaned back in her chair and studied him. He had a good point. Normally, she’d think that a bit paranoid but, after being attacked more than once in recent months, perhaps not. “I’m not one to sit around and watch others work. It makes me uncomfortable.”

  His hands casually dropped to his sides. “I make you uncomfortable.”

  Very perceptive. “That, too.”

  “You can trust me more than anyone on this ship.”

  “Maybe.” He was programmed to protect her from smugglers and space pirates and anyone else out to harm her. But was she safe from him?

  He cocked his head. “Would you like to continue the erotic fantasy we started earlier?”

  Surprised laughter escaped her. Her heart began to race and she rose from the chair. Earlier, she’d taken a shower to wash off the ore’s grime and dust, and she automatically tightened the belt of her robe—because it was loose or as a protective measure, she wasn’t sure. She’d also taken a short nap before starting her reports and felt revived now, enough to confront him about his actions. “Why are you so intent about sex between us?”