Chasing Mayhem (16 page)

“This is Captain Safyre with delivery L9Z3AA5, authorization code 86753091.” She held the male’s gaze. Always look the enemy in the eye, Kralj had taught her. Don’t allow them to see her fear.

“Not another one.” The Communications Officer groaned. “Don’t you read your notices? It is quarter end. The receiving personnel are assisting in the close. We aren’t accepting new deliveries until next shift.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. What was she supposed to do now?

“I’m authorizing you to land.” The male tapped his fingertips against a control panel. “You can open your doors, exchange air, but don’t leave your ship until the next shift arrives.”

Imee relaxed. “Thank you, Communications Officer Ernst.”

“If you truly want to thank me, read your notices before you arrive.” He ended the transmission.

The male was an ass and not a sexy ass like her cyborg. Imee slowly steered the ship into the administrative station, following the station system’s automated instructions.

Mayhem smeared black pigment over his cheeks. The plan was to kill every being who saw them. Covering his model number was an extra precaution.

They didn’t speak. She missed the sound of his voice, having grown accustomed to the low rumble, the flow of words, but she appreciated that he wasn’t taking any chances with her safety, her family’s safety, his safety.

When had Mayhem’s life become more important to her than her family’s? Guilt niggled at Imee, as she slowed their ship.

Mayhem moved to the console, placed his hands on his control panel. The systems responded, their descent steadying. She was adequate at flying. He was superb, his connection with the spacecraft impressive.

His battle skills were impressive also. Not that she’d ever tell him that.

They landed the ship in its appointed spot. There were other spacecraft in the bay but no sign of any beings. The pilots must have followed Communications Officer Ernst’s commands and remained in their vessels.

For the first few moments, they would do the same. The Humanoid Alliance might manually monitor their ship’s surroundings upon landing, ensuring they didn’t disobey orders. Eventually, they’d get bored and turn their attentions elsewhere.

The wait would be torture. She wanted to see her family
now
.

A part of her couldn’t believe this was truly happening. By the end of the planet rotation, she’d be surrounded by her family. Her mom, sister, brother would be safe.

She couldn’t have done this without her cyborg. Imee’s gaze moved to the male by her side.

His fingers flew over the ship’s control panel. He must be hacking into the station’s systems as they’d planned, giving them access to the entire station, taking systems offline, causing chaos.

It was almost go time.

Imee stood, her legs shaking with nerves, with excitement. She gathered her hair in her hands, wrapped the long tendrils into a ball and inserted pins to hold it in place. The pins were long and sharp, stained black to match her hair. They were easy to grip, designed to double as emergency weapons.

She hoped she wouldn’t need to use those. Imee blew out a ragged breath.

Mayhem bumped his shoulder against hers. She looked up at him.

He said nothing. They couldn’t speak. The Humanoid Alliance might be monitoring sound.

Instead, he slowly drifted his fingertips over her bared nape. She trembled, pleasure radiating from his touch.

His eyes glowed. The warrior knew what he was doing to her.

Mayhem skimmed his fingers along her spine, between her shoulder blades. He paused at the dagger concealed there, sliding it from its sheath, and then sliding it back. His hand lowered. He adjusted the gun stuck in the waistband of her ass covering, angling it to be better gripped with her right hand.

His sexy weapons check continued. He cupped her ass, glided his palms over her legs, found the daggers in her boots, ensuring they could be removed quickly.

Imee stayed as motionless as possible, savoring the firmness of his hands, the bliss of his skin against hers, her arousal climbing. They didn’t have time to find release. The blasted male was aware of that yet he tortured her anyway, running his palms along her shins, her knees, her thighs.

She no longer worried about the mission, no longer thought of her family. There was no fear, no tearful anticipation, only lust.

Mayhem breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling. The air hung heavy with her musk. He must smell her, must know how much he was turning her on.

He curled his fingers over her mons. She sucked back a moan, pushing her hips toward him. He released her and she gritted her teeth, the urge to snap at him, to take what she wanted tremendous.

Her guns were the next to be examined, the barrels peered into, the handles polished, his attention to every detail warming her heart. Mayhem’s examination of her weapons was a level of caring she’d never experienced.

She wanted him so much.

He caressed her stomach, brushing his fingers back and forth, back and forth over the exposed skin and she quivered with desire, with need. Knowing they couldn’t act on their passion made it even more exquisite.

Her torso was slowly explored, her breasts weighed in his hands, the small gun tucked between them nudged. Her nipples were so tight; they ached.

Mayhem tapped her chin. Imee met his gaze, not hiding her yearning. He extracted a dagger from one of his sheaths and tucked it under the shoulder strap of her breast covering.

Her breath caught, the metal cool against her skin, the meaning clear. He’d given her a part of himself. She wouldn’t be alone, even if they were parted. He’d be with her.

The aggravating male tweaked her nipples, ratcheting her yearning for him higher. And then he stepped backward, leaving her frustrated and needy.

Imee narrowed her eyes at him. If he believed she wouldn’t retaliate, he didn’t know her. She stepped forward, pressed her curves against his muscle, and gripped his nape.

Holding his gaze, she lowered her hands over his shoulders, along his back, pausing at every dagger, every gun, giving his weapons the same attention he’d given hers.

His body stiffened and his cock hardened. She stifled a smile. His face might be expressionless but his form didn’t lie. He desired her as she desired him. 

She relished the dip along his spine, the power in his clenched ass cheeks, the defiant bracing of his legs. The number of weapons he carried was staggering, would have rendered her incapable of moving. Yet he gave no indication they affected him.

Imee bent over as she felt along his legs, grazing her cheek over him, deliberately sticking her ass in the air, taunting him. His fingers curled into fists, his knuckles whitening.

She massaged his bulging calves, traced the seam of his boots, following the insole to the toes. His footwear was as immaculately maintained as the rest of him, a matte black, no reflection of light, nothing that would signal his presence while he waited in the shadows.

The blades strapped to his boots were long enough to slice through an opponent’s midsection, sharp enough to feel no resistance. She licked her bottom lip. He was a lethal being and he was hers.

For now. And now might be all they had, all anyone had. She’d treasure the moment, savor him, her cyborg, her warrior.

Guns hung at his thighs, more at his hips. The bulge in his body armor was as deadly to her composure. She stroked along his length and he bobbed. He didn’t have control over his cock. It was all organic.

Imee teased him, rolling his balls through the garment, pumping his shaft, until his lips were a thin line, his eyes glowed with heat, and his body was stretched to the point of breaking.

Then she showed him mercy, continuing her examination, navigating the dips and crests of his abs, the expanse of his chest. There was a sheath positioned on his left pec, over his heart. Her fingers shook as she removed the two daggers it held. The larger of the two was his, the blade curved, deadly. The other dagger had belonged to her. Mayhem had confiscated it the first planet rotation they’d met.  

He’d carried it on his body since then. She kissed that blade and returned the daggers to where they belonged, with him, her big warrior.

He caught her wrists, raised the left one, pressed his lips against her skin. Her heart pounded. Mayhem was a cyborg, had enhanced senses. He must feel her raging pulse.

He paid homage to her other wrist, nuzzling, nipping. It wasn’t enough for her.

It must not have been enough for him either. He hooked his arms around her, pulled her to him, and covered her lips with his. She eagerly opened to him, sucking on his tongue, twining her flesh around his.

They were in an enemy stronghold, surrounded by Humanoid Alliance warriors. This kiss could be their last. They might not survive their mission.

Imee’s heart ached. If he died, all of her hopes of happiness would die with him. Even if he discovered her weaknesses, deemed her unworthy of love, she would care for him, would want him to live, to be free.

She captured his handsome face between her hands and gazed into his dark eyes.

His lips curved against hers.

Could he see her caring? She’d never said the words, her engrained sense of self-preservation hadn’t allowed her to expose her emotions, even to him, the being she trusted most in the galaxy, but he always read her, always seemed to know.

She kissed him with a frantic desperation, imprinting his touch and taste on her brain, flooding her form with his nanocybotics. He met her kiss for kiss, their tongues dueling, their teeth clicking together. Her lips hummed, swollen with passion. Her head spun.

Imee gripped the collar of his body armor.

He pulled away from her, catching her wrists, stopping her from stripping him bare.

She tugged on her hands.

Later
, he mouthed, holding onto her.

No
, she mouthed back.
I want you now.

It was irrational, illogical, as her cyborg would say. They had a mission to complete. She shouldn’t be thinking about fucking.

But her family was safe, guarded by their Humanoid Alliance captors, unaware of her arrival. The next shift of receivers wouldn’t arrive for a long time. No one should approach the ship until then.

And this could be the last time she touched Mayhem. They could die. They were in an enemy stronghold. That could happen.

Imee also suspected when she saw her mom’s beloved face, her emotions would rush to the forefront, overwhelming her. She would cry and that would disgust her warrior male. He wouldn’t respect her, love her, want her.

She needed one last fuck, a final memory she could relive during the long, lonely rest cycles to come. Imee plucked at Mayhem’s body armor.

Later
, he repeated, removing her hands from his physique.

There might not be a later. She opened her mouth.

He turned her around, facing her toward the door, and he slapped her ass, hard, the impact of his big hand against her form propelling her toward the exit.

Imee cast a dark glare over her shoulder. He would pay for that after they completed the rescue mission. They might not fuck again but they would fight.

Mayhem’s eyes glowed with merriment. He was a foolish warrior.

And soon he would break her heart, shattering it into a million sharp jagged pieces. There was nothing she could do about that. She cared for him too much to stop.

Imee stomped toward the door, forgetting about her resolution to move quietly.

Chapter Thirteen

Mayhem closely followed the female he loved. She was angry. Again. He’d deliberately provoked her. She’d been close to tears. The need to safeguard her was already straining his control. If she had cried, he would have swept her into his arms and taken her far away from the station.

That would have scuttled the mission. It meant too much to his female to risk.

He slipped in front of Imee before she placed her tiny booted feet on the ramp. She pushed against his back, expressing her unhappiness with that action.

He squared his shoulders, ensuring she was covered, aware of how fragile and how human she was. She wouldn’t appreciate that coddling either but she wasn’t wearing body armor. He was.

He’d protect her with his life.

The docking bay was devoid of lifeforms. He’d taken the monitoring systems offline. There were no beings watching them. Not taking any risks with his female, he dashed from shadow to shadow, his tread silent.

Imee tried to mimic him. She was unsuccessful, her steps quiet yet detectable. A cyborg would be able to hear her.

Fortunately or unfortunately, he was the only cyborg on the station. Fortunately because he wouldn’t have face one of his brethren. Unfortunately because it decreased the odds that Imee’s family remained alive. Important captives would have cyborgs guarding them.

Landing in the station had also been too easy. He crept closer to the double doors dividing the docking bay from the maze of corridors.

A human male sat between the doors, visible through the clear barriers. A midsize viewscreen was set on the horizontal support before him, the images static. They had been frozen when the monitoring systems were deactivated.

The male hadn’t noticed. His eyelids were lowered. His chest slowly rose and fell.

Mayhem suppressed a snort of disgust. The human was responsible for the safety of every being on board the station yet he slept.

Mayhem caught his female’s gaze and pointed to the floor, indicating she should stay there. Her face darkened. She nodded, her reluctance clear.

Humor lightened his mood. His female was not one to wait, to miss out on the action.

He sprinted across the space, flattened his body against the wall, placed his palm on the control panel. It didn’t take long to link into the station’s security system. It was old, simple, exotically different.

The first set of doors slid open.

The human male’s eyelids fluttered. Mayhem waited. The male didn’t wake.