“I can form attachments and react to situations appropriately,” he whispered, all the while hoping she’d put two and two together and realize what he was trying to tell her. “Like wanting to rend those two out there limb from limb when I saw them hurting you…”
She winced, the haunted look returning to her eyes as she flicked a nervous glance at the office door. He kicked himself. Way to go, genius, just remind her she was nearly raped.
Galvanized into action, he reached out and smoothed his thumb over her cheekbone, sliding it down to flirt with the undamaged corner of her lips.
“Or wanting nothing more than to carry you down to your quarters and carry on where we left off.”
The tone of his voice dropped, taking on a husky quality as his hand tucked around her neck and smoothed down to her shoulder to distract. “I found some very…interesting items in your locker.”
The locker had been crammed full of feminine fripperies, expensive gowns and shoes that he couldn’t see his Milly wearing in a lifetime, all carefully packed and folded away. The sort of clothing he’d seen during his days in the fleet, when he and his kind had operated guard duty for the higher-ups and their various balls and soirees. High society.
Presuming that they were from her life with her ex, the dresses hadn’t interested him half as much as the vanity case he’d opened up, looking for the shower gel she’d wanted. Inside the innocuous looking case were dildos and vibrators of every shape and size. Hard as a rock within a heartbeat, he’d rifled through them, imagining her using them…imagining her letting him use them on her. His c*ck surged to life, hard and aching in his pants as he stole another kiss.
Diversion, he told himself, even as he felt like a prick for lusting after her when she was out of it. He shouldn’t, should stop this now, but he couldn’t, quickly finding he had absolutely zero morals where she was concerned. Pressing her back into the soft cushions, he parted her lips with a sweep of his tongue and groaned as she opened up for him with a soft whimper. The kiss was short, started out sweet, but ended with them both breathing heavily and Johnny fighting to retain control.
“You found my toy collection,” she murmured as she kissed along his neck, her legs entangled with his on the small couch. It was no good for f**king on. If they took this further, they’d have to move to the desk. “Jas…my ex hated them. Said it made him feel less of a man, that I shouldn’t need them or any of the stuff I wanted to do. That he should be enough for me.”
Johnny swore softly as her hand meandered down his torso and fought back the need to strip her nak*d, part her legs and make her forget both her ex and the two dead guys out on the bridge.
“I want you to use them. I want to see you use them. I want to use them on you.”
He caught her lips in a brief, hard kiss, swallowing her moans. The sexy little sounds drove him crazy. Deliberately he ignored the warnings of his onboard about threat levels and getting the ship back to the station. He’d felt the lurch as they jumped. No one was going anywhere until they dropped back into normal space.
“Oh god, yeah…” Her little plea hit him low down, his c*ck jerking and pulsing savagely in his pants, straining at the zipper. “Jason wouldn’t do anything…just wanted me to suck him off, then f**k me for a few minutes until he came. Then he’d roll over and sleep.”
Her hands clung to his broad shoulders, nails biting against his skin. Erotic little stings that fed the images rolling through his brain. Instantly he relegated blowjobs to the list of things he wouldn’t ask her to do for him.
“He never wanted to experiment. Not even doggy style…no tying up…definitely no…” She paused, a hitch in her breathing and a hot, yet shy look in her gorgeous eyes.
“Definitely no what?” he prompted, wondering what had brought the color to her cheeks and the sexy little look to her face. Fuck, he had it bad for her.
She shook her head, biting at her lip in a way that made him want to forget everything that was going on around them, forget he was a cyborg and she thought he was a bot, and just ride off into the sunset with her. Of course, first he’d have to find a sunset, but it was the thought that counted, right?
“Kinky stuff. You know…” Gods, this was sounding better and better. “Using toys, more than one…” He held his breath, but let her continue without prompting. “Maybe even ‘back there’.” She hid her face against his chest, hiding her expression from him “Oh god, I can’t believe I’m saying this to a bot. But you’re like a sex toy anyway, aren’t you? So it’s okay.”
Fuck. She was going to be the death of him. Johnny’s blood roared in his ears as he fought to get his body’s reaction under control. His little human wanted the kinky stuff, did she? That wasn’t a problem. Hell, it would never be a problem. Just the thought of spreading her wide and taking her ass had him ready to come in his pants right there.
“Hell, yeah. It’s more than okay.”
He ignored the comment about him being a sex toy, glad beyond belief that Cyn hadn’t been around to hear that one. He’d never hear the end of it. “And as soon as I get you back to your room, I’m going to prove just how okay it is.”
Chapter Eight
He’d fought on the desert planets of the Gerleran system, and the ice moons of Petia Four, but Johnny had never found anything as difficult as leaving Milly in the Captain’s office of the Starflame while he went about cleaning up. Tucked onto the couch with a light blanket and her eyes drifting shut from the shot he’d given her, she looked adorable.
He watched her for a moment, a smile on his lips. She looked cute and soft, her usual hard-edged demeanor gone as she snuggled into the cushions, ready to sleep. The shot was nothing serious, just a light painkiller for her headache which wouldn’t interfere with the concussion. He’d given it to her after she’d recited the main computer access code. Free of pain and worn out from the emotional distress, she would be asleep in minutes. His expression hardened as he turned back to the door and walked out onto the bridge. Time to sort this crapshoot of a situation out.
The smell hit him first. Blood and death, a perfume that had pervaded his life until he was sure it seeped from his pores. Dickwad and Fucktard still lay where he’d left them, their bodies twisted and grotesque. Normally he didn’t bother with his kills, simply dropped them and moved on. This time was different. Because of what they’d done and planned to do to Milly, he wanted to kill them again, mutilate their corpses in the vain hope that the agony would follow them into death and as a warning to anyone against messing with his woman.
His woman…
Who thought he was some kind of fancy bot and who he’d lied to consistently. He had to find a way to tell her the truth, a way that meant she would still have something to do with him or at the very least not space him before they returned to the station.
Gritting his teeth, he set about cleaning up. There was a maintenance hatch to the right of the main view screen leading to the access tubes that riddled the ship like a rabbit warren. It was how he’d reached the bridge without using the lift.
“Fuck, you should’ve gone on a diet, mate,” he grunted as he manhandled the pilot through the hatch and waited for the dull thud as he hit the walkway beyond. Once they’d dropped out of the jump, the access tubes could be vented to space to get rid of the bodies and their accompanying stink.
Returning for the second body, he dragged it across the bridge, leaving a trail of blood and nastier fluids in its wake. At least this area wasn’t carpeted, so he could simply mop it down and get rid of the evidence. Not that he was bothered, he could simply ignore the smell, but he didn’t want anything left behind to upset Milly when she woke.
As he reached the hatch, a comm unit crackled.
“Welch, Vors…what’s happenin’ up there? We’re like fookin’ sardines down ‘ere. How close are we to the jump end?”
Crap. There were more of them. Johnny dropped the body and patted down the pockets, totally ignoring the guy’s sightless eyes. He’d known others, even cyborgs, who couldn’t stand a dead man’s eyes, but it didn’t bother him. It wasn’t like they could do anything from where they were.
“You’d better not be having too much fun with the woman. Remember, we’re looking for a piece of the action before she gets sent off to one of the farms. And unlike them, we’d kinda like her still to look like a woman, not a bit of bloody meat.”
He yanked the comm unit from the guy’s back pocket, and schooled the rush of anger at yet another threat to Milly. This one, though, was far more insidious. The reference to farms could only mean one thing. Once they were done with her, they were going to sell her to one of the organ processing units. In the main systems they were legit operations, requiring both a death certificate and a medical examination before any payment was made. Signs of a violent death would mean the body was impounded and the seller arrested on suspicion of murder. Out here, there was less paperwork and even fewer ethics. Obvious cause of death or even mere unconsciousness was often ignored before money exchanged hands and the victim was loaded into a stripping unit. It was a brutal way to go.
Clicking down the button on the side, he spoke. His voice when it issued was higher and more whining than before. A perfect match for the guy whose neck he’d done a one-eighty on.
“Wait your f**king turn. We’re not done yet,” he snarled as he strode over to the first officer’s station at the back of the bridge. “She’s a hot piece of ass, though. Pity you’re locked down until we drop out.”
His fingers danced over the controls as he started to isolate the source of the comm signal. Where were they?
The comm erupted with foul curses, most directed at Welch and his comrade about their supposed carnal enjoyment of Milly. Johnny ignored it as he narrowed down the signal. Yes, there. They were on the ventral hull, near the stern, a small shuttle attached to the armored plating like a parasite.
Leaving them just a laugh to think about, he cut the comm and crossed back to the pilot’s station. The seat was obviously designed for a smaller man, or a woman, but he crammed his tall, muscled frame into it and flicked the displays up. Their jump course overlaid a star-map, a counter in the corner counting down to the end point. They were about halfway through the jump, so he didn’t have much room to maneuver.
“Computer, change jump destination point to coordinates seven-seven-alpha-zero-niner by nine-three-juliet-two-five. Authorization Locke-sierra-seven-nine-four. Please confirm.”
Silence greeted his words. He’d shortened the jump, which would drop them into normal space within a couple of minutes. He reclined in the chair as he waited for the computer’s response as it worked out the new drop point. He could practically hear it crunching the numbers. Hell, they really needed to get the flame’s mainframe updated. The fun Cyn could have with a whole ship to play with…
“Warning, alteration of jump destination will jeopardize fuel consumption rates for onward journey. Do you wish to proceed?”