Steel Coyote

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Steel Coyote Page 8

by Beth Williamson


  Push him away.

  “Get dressed.” She picked up her night shirt and pulled it over her head, ignoring the warm trickle on her thigh.

  “Time for me to go, huh?” He sat up.

  She shrugged, although her entire body tightened with the need to rejoin him on the bed. “My shift starts in two hours, so I should hit the rack. Don’t want to fall asleep at the helm.”

  Remy held herself still, not daring to breathe or move even an inch until he got to his feet and picked up his clothes then walked to the door, bare-assed naked. Sweet God, was there nothing he wouldn’t do to drive her insane? Her palms itched to grab that perfectly shaped ass. Her mouth watered to taste his cock.

  She was in trouble, and the best thing she could do was put up her fists and fight to protect herself.

  Remy had made mistakes in her life, suffered for them, and learned to keep her softer emotions hidden. Her mistakes as a teenager were as stupid as she had been. She couldn’t forget that she’d run away for two months, leaving the ship, her father, her family. All for a man.

  She almost fell back into the memories she’d locked away deep inside her. Hogan Rocket had charmed her, brought her pleasure for the first time in her young life, then enticed her into an adventure. It wasn’t all bad, and she’d learned how to live on no money. Getting back to the Steel Coyote had been almost as hard as apologizing to her father. She’d made a mistake and let herself be selfish and driven by the excitement of the moment.

  No more. She knew what it was to have a family and fight to survive alongside them. She couldn’t risk what she’d regained. She’d grown armor to keep the world at bay.

  Max had slipped past it for a few stolen moments. It couldn’t happen again.

  He turned when he reached the door. His hair was sticking every which way, his chest as lickable as it had been twenty minutes ago. The expression on his face, however, was inscrutable.

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever been booted out of a woman’s bed so fast. I can’t say as I like it.”

  “We both have a job to do.” She waved her hand at the tousled bed. “This was good, but it can’t get in the way.”

  He watched her for a long few seconds. “Roger that, Captain Hawthorne.”

  With that, he walked out the door soundlessly, leaving her to face her actions alone. The door stood open with the smell of sex in the air. Remy had rarely experienced moments that hit like a kick to the gut.

  The next two weeks would be the hardest of her life.

  She sank down onto the floor and put her face in her hands. “Jesus, what did I just do?”

  Remy resisted the urge to find Katie and confess. No, she had to work this out on her own. It wasn’t going to be easy, but she needed to focus on the twins she was about to bring on board and the dangerous cargo. Either one could be the biggest disaster of her career as a captain. They also might be the end of her completely.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  Chapter Five

  Remy successfully avoided Max for the next twenty-four hours. It was ridiculous and childish, but she couldn’t help herself. The incident in her cabin haunted her, asleep or awake, so she stayed awake as much as she could. She worked hard enough to make herself ready to puke, yet as soon as her mind drifted, bam! An image of Max naked on her bed slammed into her.

  It was hell. It was heaven. It was enough to make her want to throw herself in the blow-out chamber. How could she let herself get distracted by him? She was stronger than that.

  They were a few hours outside of Azesus station, their unexpected stop to pick up Jean’s twin cousins. She expected a couple of snot-nosed teenagers who’d be nothing but trouble. Damn Jean for pulling that marker like he did. Gunnar used to say that a man’s honor was the only thing he truly owned and he had to protect it no matter what. Remy had a debt to Jean and she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, let her own honor be compromised. Even if it meant they had to burn more fuel to get to Haverty on time. With more than ten thousand credits left, they could afford to top off the tanks at Azesus.

  She stood in the galley and wondered what the hell she was doing there. Remy stared at the damn water purifier and willed it to work faster, while it trickled out slower than Foley moved.

  “What are you doing?” Katie walked in with God only knew what smeared on her face and white T-shirt, hair sticking every which way, and sweat patches all over her clothes.

  Remy’s brows went up. “You been wrestling the bears again?”

  “Funny. No, I’m trying to fix that fucking piece of shit regulator. Damn thing is gonna crap out on us one of these days.” Katie pulled a rag from her pocket and wiped her forehead, further decorating her pale skin with black goo.

  “Oh good. We need to fix it now because…”

  Katie frowned. “Because we don’t want the engine to explode or be stranded in space, prime pickings for scavengers and scrap metal collectors.”

  “Ah, yeah, that would be bad.” Remy couldn’t bring herself to participate in the standard fare with her chief engineer. Too tired or too out of sorts.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Quite a lot, I think.” She sighed and rubbed her hands down her face. “I did something stupid.”

  Katie sat down hard in one of the chairs, her mouth open. “You fucked him.”

  “Jesus, Katie, can you read me that easy?” Remy sat across the table, her movements slow and measured. Her body was about to give out, too long without sleep and too stressed.

  “You haven’t gotten laid in six months or more. You looked more relaxed yesterday. Now you look like shit, so I’m guessing it felt good but you regret it.”

  “Pretty much. I reckon I made a mistake.” One she shouldn’t repeat.

  Katie fiddled with the rag, her fingers picking at a few stray threads. “Why was it a mistake?”

  It was Remy’s turn to be surprised. “What?”

  The engineer shrugged. “He’s good-looking, can fly like a bird, and you’re compatible in bed. Why not have fun with him? Doesn’t mean you have to go find a preacher or nothin’.”

  “Hell’s bells. I hadn’t even considered… I mean… It’s… We had an interlude.” Remy couldn’t make her brain function.

  “Interlude? It was sex. Was it hot monkey sex?” Katie raised her eyebrows. “He looks like he would be good in the sack.”

  “He was good, but that could be because I’m that good.” Remy snorted at her own sense of humor.

  Katie folded her hands. “So?”

  “So what?”

  “Will you do it again?”

  That was the real question and one Remy didn’t want to answer yet. She couldn’t answer it.

  “I should say no, but the truth is, I don’t know.”

  “You’re no fun.” Katie frowned. “Was his dick big at least?”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Remy loved her friend but there was nothing the woman considered private.

  “Quite a bit, I reckon.” She smiled widely, but it didn’t reach her eyes. There was too much sadness that lurked inside. “Well, how was his weapon?”

  She could tell her friend about Max’s incredible body, how perfectly made he was, but that would tumble her down into the hole she was trying to keep out of. It had been hard enough to get through the last day without breaking down and giving in to the intense craving to repeat the previous night’s carnal events. Even now, thinking about the taste of his skin, the firmness of his muscles, the hardness of his cock, made her flush.

  “None of your business.” Remy couldn’t meet her friend’s gaze. “I can’t let myself get lost again.”

  Katie’s expression turned serious. “You can’t keep punishing yourself for a mistake you made when you were sixteen.”

  “It’s not like I snuck out and came back the next day. I left for months. No thought for anybody but myself.” She shook her head. “I won’t even let myself be tempted. Now I’m done talking about this. I’ve got to go up on the br
idge before we get to Azesus.” Remy shot to her feet and almost ran out of the galley. Not before Katie had the last word though.

  “You can’t run forever, y’know. This ship isn’t that big.”

  After a brisk walk, Remy arrived at the bridge to find it empty. The autopilot was engaged, the nav set for their next destination. She glanced out to see the space station Azesus floating lazily above the planet Galileo.

  The six levels of docks encircled the core facility. It housed mostly travelers and temporary workers. No one truly lived on Azesus for longer than a month. Remy had wanted to ask Jean what his cousins were doing there, but knew he wouldn’t answer. It was another shady deal she had to accept without question.

  She knew very little about them except they were twins, sixteen, and their names were Morgan and Mason. Unfortunately, she also had no idea what they looked like. Perhaps they might show up on the dock looking for the Steel Coyote. Remy should have asked more questions, but she had been distracted by Max and Pierre. Damn men. Nothing but trouble.

  “They’re pulling us in by tractor beam.” Max appeared at the pilot’s seat, wearing his standard black clothes. He ought to wear a sackcloth and hide the muscles he obviously wanted her to notice.

  “We need to be on our way in an hour. Katie will take care of refueling. I’ll find the twins.”

  An awkward silence filled the air, growing with each passing second. She crossed her arms as though that would protect her from the ridiculous urge to touch him. He smelled clean, as though he’d just washed up. The soft scent of soap and man floated past her nose, and she pinched herself under the arm. The sting made her eyes water but it was worth it.

  She had to think about the job she was hired to do, and the fact two strangers were about to come on to her ship. If she were lucky, the twins wouldn’t find out about the mysterious, and illegal, cargo.

  A loud thunk vibrated through the ship as the docking clamps locked around it. Max sat in the pilot’s chair and powered down the engine. Remy walked over to the nav panel and hailed the Azesus dockmaster.

  “Steel Coyote to Azesus.”

  “Go ahead, Steel Coyote.”

  “Well met, good sir. Thanks for the smooth dock. We have two passengers to pick up. We’re also going to refuel.”

  “Well met, Steel Coyote. Fee will be one hundred credits to dock.”

  Max whistled and Remy bristled.

  “We’ll be here for an hour at most, Azesus. Why the hell are you picking my pockets?”

  A short silence. “This is a space station, not a charity. We can release the clamps, Steel Coyote.”

  Remy fisted her hand and cursed under her breath at the knowledge she had to bring Max with her on the station to pay the goddamn docking fee. “Fucking hell.”

  “What was that, Steel Coyote?”

  “Fine. A hundred credits, but there better be sticky buns and free beer.” She ignored Max’s chuckle.

  “Roger that, Steel Coyote.”

  Remy got to her feet and blew out a frustrated breath. She’d wanted Max to stay on board, but with Azesus charging a hundred credits to kiss their station’s ass, she needed him. Again.

  “You ready, Captain?” Max stood at the entrance to the corridor and gestured to the hatch. “Azesus awaits.”

  She walked toward him, her gut telling her things were about to change for good. She had to move forward, because there was no way to go back.

  …

  Max paid the credits to the dockmaster and followed Remy’s well-shaped ass into the throng of travelers who crowded the dock. Her arms swung as she walked, clearly aggravated and incredibly sexy. After the life-altering sex they’d had twenty-four hours earlier, he had trouble keeping his mind on anything but repeating the experience.

  Something told him she regretted it and wouldn’t be signing up to repeat it anytime soon. He’d been with many women, but none had the incredibly raw passion Remy possessed. Max knew he’d only scratched the surface of all she had, and he’d do anything for another taste. Well, except beg.

  Not yet anyway.

  They were good together. More than good, like an explosion of light and heat. He was no poet, but he might be able to come up with a sonnet or two about the curves of her body. Ones he could barely keep his gaze off. He’d never expected to get so involved with her when he’d seen her a few days ago. Hell, he could hardly believe where he was, what he’d done, or what lay ahead. It was like some kind of dream. Nightmare maybe. Here he was, caught in a web of a ridiculous attraction he had to get control of.

  As they walked across the metal grill floor, the sea of creatures brought a variety of interesting sights and scents, some of which made him wish he’d stayed on board. Fortunately, Azesus was a station he hadn’t been kicked off or been arrested at. Still, he was doubly glad he had the pistols strapped to his back and could plainly see the pistol secured to Remy’s thigh.

  Azesus was a circular station with at least a dozen levels of living quarters, shops, and other dark corners. There were very few security personnel and more people watching them as they entered the station from the dock. Regardless, the Corporation spheres patrolled above. The black orbs shushed past the crowd, reading chips, monitoring the universe. As he turned to avoid the orbs, so did Remy. Two of a kind.

  She kept her gaze moving, no doubt noting everything he’d already seen. She walked into the passenger holding pen, where the cacophony of noise was deafening. Remy pushed her way through the throng until she reached the ticket office. The bored-looking female behind the cage acknowledged her with a nod.

  “Captain Hawthorne from the Steel Coyote.” No polite niceties today, apparently. “I’m here to pick up two passengers.”

  A symphony of voices rose up from behind them, all begging for passage or claiming to be the two she came for. Many travelers were stranded, left behind by crooked ship’s captains or their own stupidity. Without money, they resorted to begging, or worse, to survive. Hanging around the depot gave them an excuse to find a captain with a soft heart who might take them off the station they’d been stranded on.

  “Shut up,” the woman ordered the crowd, and most listened. A few hooted and kept yelling.

  Max looked at the crowd, noting the ragged clothes, the protruding bones from malnourishment, and the desperation in their eyes. Memories of his own flight from Haverty, and the fear of starvation and death, rose in his mind. It was a shitty existence to beg for life from strangers. Damn, he wished he could help them, but if he showed even a hint of compassion, they’d eat him alive and stand on his corpse to get off the station.

  One woman shoved a small child aside and ran at Remy from behind. Max reached under his jacket and pulled out the specially made pistols. He pointed them at the woman. Much of the crowd hit the deck and put their hands over their heads. Some stared open-mouthed. Others eyed the guns enviously.

  The woman sneered, showing stained teeth. “Protecting your bitch, eh?” She shuffled off, giving him dark looks as she vanished into the crowd.

  He’d keep his eye out for that one. Yet he needed to teach the crowd respect or they wouldn’t get out of there alive. “The next one who threatens my captain will know just what this cannon sounds like when I fire. Let the captain get her business done.”

  One woman in a poke bonnet with a wine stain mark on her cheek stared at him. She raised one hand as if to wave and he saw the mark on her wrist. The Great Family tattoo. That was the last thing they needed. He had to fight his way past them, too? And what were they doing on Azesus? Max bared his teeth at her. When he wanted to be, he was as cold as the space they flew through, colder even than the depths of a witch’s heart.

  The Corporation orbs moved silently past, no doubt capturing his image. Damn.

  “Nice guns,” Remy spoke under her breath.

  The woman seemed to know what to say to keep him on edge.

  “Passenger names?” The clerk chewed on something, her jaw cracking with each pass, not unlike a c
ow chewing her cud. Not that she was the size of a cow, but she definitely had the nearly catatonic attitude of one. Not to mention the atrocious table manners.

  “Mason and Morgan St. Pierre.”

  The clerk tapped the screen in front of her with one red-tipped finger. Once, twice, three times.

  “I don’t got ’em here.”

  “Bullshit.” Remy leaned toward the bars. Faster than greased lightning, her pistol appeared in her hand, pointed straight at the now quivering female. “Bring them out. Now.”

  “Bitch.” The woman turned to do as she was told, but not without leveling a resentful glance Remy. Not that her posturing did any good. Remy was steady and unfazed.

  “You have no idea.” Remy didn’t look behind her to make sure Max was still there, guarding her back. He didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. The subsequent hush in the small terminal was ripe with discontent and some damn bad thoughts.

  A door beside the caged desk opened and two figures stumbled out. Two relatively small figures.

  Holy shit. They were barely teenagers—a boy and girl with curly brown hair and wide blue eyes. They were dressed in brown garb befitting a slave or a poor farmer’s child, no shoes or socks. The two of them took in Remy and her weapon then Max with his two pistols. If possible, they seemed to get smaller.

  “What are your names?” Remy didn’t turn to look at them, but the kids jumped as though she’d poked them with a switch. “Names. Now.”

  “M-Morgan and M-Mason.” The girl spoke, looking as though she’d bolt for the exit hatch at any moment.

  “Who left you here?”

  “Jean St. Pierre.”

  “What’s the name of his ship?”

  “The St. Pierre.” This time the boy spoke, his arm around his sister’s shoulders. They looked guileless and had the right answers to Remy’s questions.

  Remy finally turned to look at them, one at a time, peering at them as everyone in the terminal watched. He suspected the two young people were set to be sold to slavers, and Remy had interrupted their plan to get rich. Someone was going to be very unhappy with them.

 

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