Ricochet (2 page)

Stratton Sinnet could rot. There was no way she was giving up control to the likes of him.

Stratton watched Willa march down the stairs and across the floor. She’d practically vanished into the sea of spectators and race hopefuls. The only indication she still moved forward was the disturbance of the crowd. He grinned, then summarily dismissed the woman from his mind. Any other time, he would have followed her, cajoling and flattering until she gave him what he wanted in the nearest bed, but today there were more important things occupying his attention.

Not interested in meaningless chatter with the other contestants, he jumped off the stage and headed toward the bays housing the race vehicles, muscling his way through the crowds. Pausing at the first one, he leaned a shoulder against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest and proceeded to monitor the flow of pedestrian traffic. For as long as he could remember, he’d watched life, always assessing. Every manner of being in all walks of life needed something at one time or another. When at all possible, he tried to be the man who took advantage of that need—legally or illegally.

Except it was generally the illegal actions he excelled at most.

This brought his thoughts around to the real reason he’d paid the entry fee. His quarry was here, and what was more, the man’s name had been called as one of the racers. Chaf Trant, the bastard. Stratton had tracked him from the moon Umbria on the outer rim of the galaxy. For the last few weeks, Chaf had eluded capture, with a tendency to melt into various courses on the racing junket, but Stratton was determined to make the Nebulon Trike the final call for the criminal.

A group of twittering, laughing women went by him, steps slowing, coy smiles plastered to their faces, some shooting him blatant invitations. “Not this time, ladies. Gotta get ready for the big race.” He put them from his mind as thoughts of the huge monetary prize for Chaf’s capture took precedence. Damn, he could do so much with that wad—at least move out of the dump he currently lived in. Maybe relocate to a better part of the galaxy. Hell, with a payload that size, he could afford to take a couple of weeks off the bounty gig and not worry where the next meal was coming from for a change.

A team of two blue-skinned beings entered the bay where he lounged, and both participants disappeared into the cockpit of a small assault shuttle. Stratton pushed off the wall. They were welcome to the older shuttle craft. He had his eye on one of the newer-model ships, a fast little number that would guarantee he’d get the top slot to the first checkpoint. Add those winnings to what he’d get hauling Chaf’s ass before the Planetary Alliance and he’d be living the high life.

Hell, if all went well, he might have enough to book passage on a transport vessel and get back to Earth in a few months’ time. Just let ’em try to kick him off again. This time around, he’d have the funds to back up the talk.

There was one problem with that plan—his black-haired, pain-in-the-ass, need-to-be-in-charge partner. Too much stubborn sass could mean not scoring the top spots on the race or bagging his prize.

Not caring that he was in full view of anyone who passed through the hangar, Stratton stripped down to his jockey shorts, dug a slick suit from one of the many containment bins and donned the uniform. A word with a couple of racing officials snagged him the appropriate sponsor patches and emblems, which he affixed to the suit before returning his attention to the shuttles.

He’d sauntered into a bay that contained a sweet little Scout-class number, all-black hull with shiny decals and a silver underbelly, when raised voices from a loud discussion drifted to his ears. One glance around the starboard side of the ship revealed Willa having a spirited conversation with one of the race officials. She used her hands to further convey her point, much to the apparent displeasure of the small, rotund individual. The man shook his head, thrust a handheld datapad at her and left the woman fuming.

Stratton stifled a bout of laughter at the look of total annoyance on her face. When she stalked in his direction, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the storm she’d undoubtedly unleash on him. During their exchange on the stage, he’d found it semi-amusing she’d chosen to challenge him in front of so many people. No matter. Once she accepted her place as navigator, they’d get along tolerably well. If not, it wouldn’t be him abandoned at the first checkpoint.

Never again would he be left behind.

As he opened his mouth to engage her in conversation, the woman stuck her chin out and sailed past him as if he didn’t exist. Stratton lifted an eyebrow.
Ah, so we’re playing that game, huh?
Well, he wasn’t dubbed “charming as sin” for nothing. “Uh, excuse me? What did you say your name was?” He remembered but knew it would annoy the hell out of her if he said he didn’t.

She didn’t look his way, merely ducked beneath the Scout. “Willa Rayes. Your pilot.”

“Right. I’ve heard about you. Your family, at least.” He followed as she continued with her perfunctory visual inspection. “Fighter pilots from Lingoria, award winners all. Decorated numerous times in your planet’s military for various acts of bravery and service to the crown. Must put a mountain’s worth of stress on your shoulders to know you still have to try twice as hard to even reach level with the guys, huh?”

She stiffened and straightened so fast, the top of her head connected with the underside of a wing. “That is none of your business.” Rubbing her scalp with her free hand, she approached him, her rosy lips set in a hard line. “The only thing you need to concern yourself with is getting our coordinates correct. I assume you’re intelligent enough to operate an instrument panel and work the controls at the checkpoints?”

“I can, but it doesn’t mean I will.”

“Like hell.” The words were so soft he barely caught them.

“Is this our ship?” When she gave him a curt nod, he rolled his eyes. This one would be a problem. “Listen,
kita
.” He strolled around the stern, inching toward the service ladder. “I work best alone and fly faster solo. I’m all about getting there first, by whatever means necessary.” He put one hand on the ladder, the cold metal biting into his palm. “And here’s another fact for you. I don’t allow females to pilot any boat I’m on. Got it?”

An angry red flush sprang into her cheeks, and her eyes flashed a warning. “When I registered, I purposely requested I be the pilot. I expect you to adhere to my wishes.”

“Or what, you’ll throw a tantrum?” He put a boot on the bottom rung and pinned her with a stare. “Guess what? I don’t care who you are or what your experience level is. Chances are your father spoiled you rotten, let you do whatever you wanted. He probably felt bad you were a girl.”

“My father did no such thing.” She planted a hand on a rounded hip, and for a second, his attention strayed to the curves her slick suit revealed. From all outward appearances, she was fully human. “He’s proud of what I’ve accomplished.”

“Is he?” Stratton pushed himself up to the next rung. “I’ve seen women like you. You’ve got a chip on your shoulder and are trying to prove something to the men in your life. Well, gorgeous, I don’t have the time to straighten you out.”

“Don’t call me by any empty endearments or stupid pet names. I’m not a member of your harem.” The end of her ponytail quivered.

He lifted an eyebrow. A harem? At the very least, the woman would be entertaining on the journey. “Whatever you say. Here’s a reality check. I don’t give anyone special treatment. If you want to race with me, then your ass is going to do it from the nav position. Your choice.”

“Absolutely not!” A boot heel struck the floor.

“All right, then, let’s play
this
game. First one into the pilot’s seat gets the position.” He scrambled up the ladder and vaulted into the cockpit.

Seconds later, Willa’s curses flowed, ending only when she appeared at the other side and slid into the cabin as well. “That was a dirty trick. You had a head start.” She stood at his seat with an expression of intense dislike marring her oval face.

“Of course. If you think the Nebulon Trike is about sticking to the rules, you’re more naïve than I thought. Beings across all galaxies cheat. Get over it or get out. It’s that simple.”

She tossed the computer into the nav’s seat and treated him to an amplified glare. “You move, Mr. Sinnet, because unless you do, we’re not leaving this hangar.”

Excitement shot down his spine. “Is that a challenge?” At this close range, he took full advantage of inspecting the hellcat. Lush breasts thrust against the front of her uniform, every male’s dream. A narrow waist he wondered if he could span with his hands gave way to full hips in equal proportion with her boobs. His cock twitched. She was the image of the perfect woman he’d had in his mind since adolescence, and she certainly matched him in temperament.

Interesting.

A feathery black eyebrow inched toward her hair line. “Do you want it to be?”

At the moment, all he wanted to do was stick his face between those glorious breasts, but he nodded, determined to see how far he could push her, find out what she was made of. “Go for it,
kita
. I love a good challenge.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Stratton grinned. He’d called her bluff, and she had nothing to back up the words. Even so, a tiny twinge of disappointment caught him off guard. Why did women only want to interact with him on a carnal level? It might be nice to have a heated discussion or argument that had nothing to do with what he could give them physically. “Well, I guess we know which one of us deserves this seat, huh?” He swiveled the chair around to fully face her, and the tip of his nose came dangerously close to her bust line.

With a tiny bit of coaxing, he could have her on his lap…

“You
deserve
this.” Before he could react, she stomped down hard on the instep of his right foot. “For now, I’ll let you have your way, but from here on out, you’ll have to fight me for the privilege of pilot. I’ve worked hard, struggled for every achievement I claim, and I refuse to let a louse like you take that away. Do
you
understand?”

Pain radiated through his foot and shot up his calf. Not for worlds would he show her the juvenile action had hurt. Swallowing down a string of vulgarity, he gave her what he hoped was an insolent grin. “Perfectly. If you don’t get your way, you’ll have a hissy fit. Gotcha. Typical spoiled little rich girl.”

“Bastard.” She spun on her heel, bending slightly to retrieve the handheld device.

“At your service.” Unable to resist the urge to tease her further, he gave her ass a hard slap. “Now, be a good girl and take a quick inventory of our supplies. I have real work to do up here with the instrument panel.”

Willa swung around, her ponytail wildly moving, the flush of anger still in place, but she said nothing, only crashed through the doorway and into the cargo area. Seconds later, a food ration pack sailed over his shoulder and crashed harmlessly against the windscreen.

Swiveling back to the control panel, Stratton frowned. As long as Willa toed the line and didn’t give him too much hassle, they could pilot the bird into one of the top slots for that first checkpoint. He didn’t care what her story was or why she’d signed up for the race. None of that mattered. As long as he got his money, she could do whatever the hell she wanted—within reason. No sense attracting any undue attention to themselves before he could bag Chaf.

Chapter Two

Willa cringed when their craft, the
Anomaly
, shuddered before resuming its smooth flow through the star-dotted blackness. The idiot was going to ruin their chances of making good time if he insisted on such a careless attitude. “Is there a reason you have your feet propped on the control panel?” She stared pointedly at his dusty boots. They rested perilously close to the button that would dump reactor-core waste all over the course. “Obviously, you have no respect for your ship.”

“As long as it gets me to where I need to go, I don’t care. And as for your question, there’s no need to be alert at this point.”

“Ah, such a wonderful work ethic.” She gritted her teeth. Of all the men to be stuck with, the powers-that-be gave her him. “When would you like to start the GCCs? I haven’t programmed them in yet, since I don’t know—”

“Willa, just stop, all right?” Stratton squirmed into an upright position, slammed his feet onto the floor and swiveled his chair around to face her. “We don’t need course corrections at the moment. We’ve been in space for an hour. Relax.” His glare sent a tremor down her spine. “If you feel the need to make asinine conversation to fill the silence, fine, but don’t expect an answer from me.”

She attempted to avert her gaze from his spread legs and crotch, but her willpower had dissolved. In the mandatory slick gear, there was no doubt that Stratton Sinnet had the necessary equipment to please the ladies. The black suit hugged his body so tightly, she clearly saw the outline of his abdominal muscles, as well as the bulge between his legs. Insistent heat rushed to her pussy, made doubly uncomfortable by the uniform.

Needing a distraction, she cleared her throat and wrenched her gaze to his. “Are you always an ass?”

“A good portion of the time. That’s what makes me well known.”

“No, that’s what makes you an ass.”

“It’s working for me.” A knowing smirk crossed his face. “See something you like?” He rested a hand on his upper thigh with his fingers dangling in such a way she couldn’t help but glance at his package again.

“No, actually.” Arrogant bastard. There was no way she’d let on how yummy she thought he looked. “You’re not as impressive as you think. I’ve seen better.”

His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned. “Do you always have to be so aloof?”

“I’m not aloof. I just feel the need to come down to your level.”

“Ah.”

Annoyed when he said nothing else, she sighed. “I’m going to do those course corrections whether you want me to right now or not.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself, Miss I-Always-Need-To-Be-In-Control. I’ll bet you’re rigid like that all the time. Unbending control, right?”