Deep Indigo (24 page)

In the two lunar months they’d been working together, they’d been through a major crisis, trained new guards and improved the quality of security on the
Orion
. And through it all, the heat of desire hadn’t faded, and he still refused to act on it.

Her gasp of shock caught in her throat and, as their eyes held, it became a soft, escalating moan as she climaxed harder than she had all night, pleasure imploding deep within her pussy and then exploding outward through her body. Her co-commander’s voyeurism was as delicious as the cock inside her.

By the time she finally managed to open her pleasure-drugged eyes, he was gone.

A short time later Sirena stepped outside the pilot’s stateroom and stopped short, startled to see her co-commander of the Serpentian guard walking toward her. Walk—such a colorless word to describe the way he moved. He strode, he prowled like the magnificent male creature he was. His tall, heavily muscled body erect and graceful, his beautifully shaped head held high, he surveyed her with narrowed eyes.

His sculpted jaw was still clenched, his nostrils flared. Pushing back her hair, she eyed him cautiously. Great serpents, he wasn’t embarrassed. He was furious.

Perhaps it would teach him a lesson. He could have been the male groaning with pleasure beneath her.

Her own body hummed with satisfaction. She’d left her latest lover sprawled across the bed in the stateroom behind her. He wouldn’t wake for a long time, but when he did, it would be with a smile. As she recalled some of the things he’d done to her and with her, the corners of her mouth curled up with satisfaction.

If she’d sighed, feeling detached even as he groaned his eternal devotion, that was no one’s business but her own. As was the fact she’d come most deliciously of all with Slyde watching them.

“Commander Stone,” she said now, ignoring the way his narrow gaze made her want to touch her flight suit to see if it smoldered. Even after coming several times in the last hours, she still felt the usual low curl of desire at his nearness. But she’d resolved from the beginning that she wouldn’t hang on his sleeve. That was for dewy-eyed ingénues. Let the great beast tell her what was wrong, if he wished.

Otherwise, she was headed straight for a hot shower-dry.

Slyde berated himself in savage silence. What had he been thinking to confront Sirena here outside her lover’s door? Nothing coherent, that was certain. Since the instant he first saw her, he’d been thinking mostly with his cock.

After he’d refused her in the bar that first night, he’d seen the fighter pilot preen himself before her. Had known how it would end when the fellow swaggered out of the bar after her. And he’d watched the scene repeated several times in the last two months. The lovely, sensual Sirena was a typical Serpentian, sharing her body with any male she chose. And he was nearing the end of his patience. He’d done his best to show her how well they got along as they trained, planned and worked together, had even resorted to showing off in sparring. But still she turned to other men.

Tonight, he’d overridden a prime rule of courtesy on board ship and opened a com-link between them. He bitterly regretted his decision. Because now he had to do more than imagine the things she allowed her lovers to do to her—the things he dreamed of doing to her, with her, himself.

Now he’d seen her. Her lovely body naked, kneeling astride another male, riding him with perfect, sensual grace. Had seen the other man’s hands on the taut swell of her ass, his mouth on the perfect globes of her breasts.

Now he knew her skin was the same silken gold over her entire body, save for the dusky peach of her nipples and the delicate line of auburn that limned her mons. Knew how those scant curls looked soaked with another man’s seed, how the pink lips of her labia stretched taut around another man’s glistening cock as he drove it in and out of her.

Now he knew her soft, escalating moans as she enjoyed her orgasm. And the look in her eyes as she came, because their eyes had locked and he’d been unable to break away, drowning in those emerald depths.

Controlling his anger with a supreme effort, he stopped before her. Her golden cheeks were flushed, emerald eyes sleepy, her auburn mane tousled. Even the collar of her sleek top was crooked, which she would never allow on duty. It was obvious she’d just come from her lover’s arms. Arms that Slyde wanted to rip off and feed to the bastard.

He grimaced as her fragrances mingled with the stench of another male ripped at his sensitive olfactory glands like rotting Pangaean fruit.

She raised an arching brow at him.

“Commander?” she asked in her throaty voice. “Are you well?”

“That’s a question I might ask you,” he answered, his deep voice as rough as mountain stones grating together. “Were the answer not so obvious.”

She straightened, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Merely that a shower-dry is in order. You reek of your lover’s sweat.”

“Commander Stone. You forget yourself.”

“Forget?” he sneered. “I’m not the one who has lain with too many lovers to remember.”

She drew in a hiss of pure rage, her emerald eyes going molten.

Good—let her have a taste of the frustrated rage he’d been battling since he laid eyes on her and realized that here was the woman of his dreams—his fervid, tormenting dreams—and that she would never be his… unless she agreed to his terms, which she was unlikely to do. Why should she, when she could enjoy any male she chose, for as long as she chose, instead of pledging herself to just one?

“I presume you had an important reason for following me?” she asked with dangerous softness. “And for spying on me?”

“It will wait,” he bit out.

He’d come on this voyage to look for a woman—a far different kind of woman. The kind who’d saved herself for marriage and who was chaste. Instead, he’d taken one look across that hellhole of a bar on Solaria and fallen like a space rock for this beauty, a warrior who could fell a man as easily with a kick or a look—and did both with regularity.

He turned his back on her before she could reply and before he could do what he really wanted: throw her over his shoulder, carry her off to his quarters and toss her in his shower-dry until she’d been through three or more cleaning cycles. And then…imprint his own touch and scent on her, so thoroughly she would never want another.

Slamming through an open hatchway, he raced down one of the many small spiral staircases, not caring where it led as long as it was away from her and what he wanted of her.

On the edge of freedom lies a dangerous love.

Thief

© 2010 Anitra Lynn McLeod

Nothing has ever come easy for Jace Lawless, captain of the salvage vessel
Mutiny
. Forced into thievery after a virus unleashed by the InnerWorld Government killed his family, only one ambition burns at the back of his mind. Kill the next IWOG officer he has at his mercy.

Bargaining over goods with a middleman isn’t exactly his strong suit. But who in his right mind spends an entire salvage job’s profits on a woman, even if she has a body built for sin and eyes so fathomless a man could lose himself in them? He must be getting soft.

Once Kraft realizes Jace expects only the “cook” part of their cook-whore contract, she sets out to change his antiquated ideas about women. A challenge she relishes, especially if it earns her the freedom and money to get her own ship. Her big mistake is letting down her guard.

Shameless flirting only intensifies the itch to ride Jace hard and put him away wet—several times. It’s an itch it would be dangerous to scratch. Exposing her heart could reveal her secret, one that the still-grieving Jace must never know…or showing her mercy will be the last thing on his mind.

Warning: Contains a celibate ship captain who can’t abide swearing, a kick-ass woman with a marshmallow heart, a motley crew of misfits, interstellar battles, thwarted groping, sensual seduction, and a total bastard who owns his own planet.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Thief:

Kraft willingly cooked, willingly fought, and claimed she would willingly whore. By her own honor, she offered the full of herself up to him, but Jace sensed that she expected him to restrain himself by his own dictates of honor. Asking her to cook and fight was one thing, but asking her to whore? Well, that was an entirely different matter.

When she saw him approach, Kraft stood at full attention with her face demurely lowered. All at once he felt a foot taller than her when he wasn’t.

He’d ordered her to his bunk as a spur-of-the-moment way to get her to stop defying his authority. He never thought Kraft would actually obey. Now that she had, he wasn’t sure what to do with her. Feeling awkward and shy, he thought the first thing he should do was explain and apologize.

Embarrassment at her having saved him and his crew fueled his need to remind her and himself that he was in charge. As he drew close to her, he longed to reach out and touch her face. On a rush of emotion, he wanted to confess he didn’t always know what to do, or how to proceed, and sometimes acted rashly, fueled more by his heart than his head.

As a captain, Jace wanted to ask for her help and make her his partner in crime. Perversely, he felt he shouldn’t need her help and should make her his partner in bed. As a man, Jace wanted to possess the full of Kraft. He wanted to protect her even though he knew he couldn’t. Worse, he knew he didn’t have to coddle Kraft, which only increased his longing to claim her as his bedwarmer. Beyond that corral of confusion, Jace knew Kraft shouldn’t have to protect him.

Instead of saying anything, he unlocked his bunk with a slap of his hand to the wall com. The metal catch released with a soft snick that vibrated the floor below their feet.

Her braless breasts jiggled against the worn yellow fabric of his secondhand shirt. The enticing movement caught his attention, and he forgot what he intended to say. Instead, he found himself imagining what she would look like topless.

“If you’d like, I could put the harem outfit on.”

His gaze went from her chest to her mouth.

Lifting her lowered face a fraction, Kraft met his gaze, and whispered, “Someone placed the costume in my closet.” She flashed him that slow, lazy and sexy smile.

Jace had no idea who put the outfit in her closet, but he wouldn’t mind seeing her in that getup again. Fluffpink clinging and exposing the full promise of her undeniably strong and sexy body was certainly worth a second look. After seeing her in the revealing outfit, he knew her nipples were large and toffee-dark against her skin. He remembered the snug slit of her innie bellybutton drawing his gaze down to the wide pleasure of her hips. Between her lush thighs, he would find another snug—

“Should I fetch that costume, Captain?”

Her seductive, superior attitude dispelled all his thoughts of apologizing. Kraft didn’t worry one bit about him taking charge, because she assumed she had the upper hand. His blushing and backing off made her think she could say or do anything, and he’d just turn away. Normally he would have, but not this time.

Slipping a finger under her chin, he lifted her face until she met his gaze. Fathomless black eyes held a smirk that he wanted to quash in a sudden rush. For the first time, she didn’t flinch away from his touch. She melted to him as he stroked his finger across her full, sensuous lips. More than anything in the Void, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to taste every bit of her luscious mouth. Kraft had a body built for sin, but she had a mouth destined for seduction.

Jace lowered his voice as his mouth descended on hers. “Seems like a waste of time for you to put on all those complicated clothes when I’m just going to make you take them off.”

Her eyes widened.

Placing his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “Or did you want to dress up and then strip for me?”

She tensed and swallowed with an audible click.

He pressed closer. “I’ve never had a whore in my bed. If you’re familiar with the concept, maybe you could walk me through it.”

Kraft pulled back and narrowed her gaze. “After ten years of celibacy, I think a walk is all it would take.”

“Is that so?” Refusing to back down, Jace traced his finger along her ear to her neck. “Since it’s been a decade for me, I’m thinking you won’t be able to walk by the time I’m satisfied.”

Her jaw damn near hit the floor.

Jace took a perverse delight in shocking her, and her dismay made him even more determined to make her back down this time. Even if he had to say the most vulgar things in the Void, he would force her retreat.

“I can’t believe you’re surprised.” He stroked her lips with a forceful fingertip. “You can read me so well, right?”

She darted her gaze to the floor. “I told you, I can’t read you like that. I can read—”

Plush lips gave way below the thrust of his silencing finger. When her hungry eyes met his, he said, “Don’t try to distract me. I don’t care what you can read. You don’t have to read me. I’ll tell you what I want.”

Lowering his mouth to her neck, he nipped lightly. “I want you.” After pulling her mocha skin, marking her, he lifted his mouth to her ear. “I want you writhing and panting and sweating below my thrusting body.”

She placed her large hands on his chest, pushed him back and looked him right in the eye. The depths of her black gaze swarmed with heat, smoky and slightly unfocused. “You want me by force?”

He heard the catch in her voice and sensed her desperation. He smiled at her as he answered her question with one of his own. “How can I force you when sex is part of your contract, my lovely cook-whore?”

Kraft withdrew with a startled step back. She pressed against the metal door of his bunk and flattened her palms against the smooth durosteel to steady herself.

Closing in on her, he took a half-step forward and placed his palms on the door, encasing her with his arms. In a tingling rush, a fleeting ripple washed over his body, and he wondered if he could actually feel Kraft trying to read him through the door. He forced himself to contain the rush by focusing his mind and constricting his body to a tense stance.