Ricochet (27 page)

“Willa…” He extended a hand, then drew it back with a grimace. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No shit.”

A slow smile slid over Stratton’s mouth, the grin that played havoc with her insides and sent molten heat surging between her thighs. “So, are we going to finish the damned race or not? If you wait any longer, we’ll be out of contention.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I think another team is bearing down.”

As apologies went, she’d never heard a better one. Maybe the new chapter would include him for a while. She peered into the distance to where he’d indicated. Sure enough, the dark silhouettes of a team appeared at the end of the street. “I thought you didn’t care about the Nebulon Trike?”

Stratton shrugged. A genuine groan of pain escaped him. He clutched his bad arm close to his chest. “Hey, I intend to collect on your promises. That is, once someone pops this shoulder back into its joint.”

“I guess if we’re stopping by a medical facility, I could get my arm patched. Hard to keep up in the sack with an open wound. Come on.” Pretending her cheeks were burning from the high sun, she began the trek along the road again, this time with Stratton struggling beside her.

Once they entered the crowd-lined section of streets, there was no opportunity for conversation. Hands patted them, people embraced them, escorting them along the raceway. Stratton’s soft curses and admonitions to “watch the arm” kept them company the whole way. Beings of all races cheered them on. Much as it had at the starting point, her universal translator caught almost every comment and statement. Colorful sponsor banners waved and danced in the breeze. Holographic triangles fluttered between the ruins, depicting ship owners and individual racing teams.

A wave of peace passed over her and helped her cope with the shivers of pain.
This is where I belong.
In the middle of all this chaos, with everyone here for one common purpose. Support and pride. Racing. Space travel. I love it.

Willa’s heartbeat increased in time to the chants of encouragement. She ignored the screaming pain in her shoulder as best she could. Her mouth grew dry as each step brought her closer to the goal she’d so desperately chased for the last week and a half. With Chaf out of the race and dead and his partner missing, how many teams had walked this very road while she and Stratton had fought?

After everything she’d lived through and experienced, did it matter where she’d placed?

Honestly? No. Racing was in her blood and would be until she died.

“Hell,
kita
, you’re slowing us down with the daydreaming.” Stratton’s clipped whine cut into her thoughts. “Podium’s ahead with that short guy who read the pairings at the beginning.”

She blew a strand of hair from her face. If Stratton did stay in the picture, she might die sooner than later. “Suck it up.” Without thinking, she punched his shoulder. When his knees buckled, her stomach bottomed out. She went to his other side and slid an arm around his waist, wincing when his fingers squeezed at her wound. “Sorry. I forgot, but look, we’re here.”

At the end of the road, a three-level podium stood, made of metal-grate blocks. Screaming crowds surrounded the platform as well as a black square in front of it where two officials from the racing league waited. Two teams already occupied the top tiers of the platform. The one in the second slot was the team who’d offered their assistance earlier.

“Fuck.” The word flew out of her mouth before Willa could call it back.

“We finished. Your turn to suck it up.” He pulled her onto the mat with his good hand. “Team Sinnet checking in.”

“Uh, Team Rayes, you mean,” Willa interjected.

The short man nodded. “Stratton and Willa, you’re team number three. You have won free registration for the next race on the circuit should you choose to continue. Please take your place on the podium.”

Willa felt Stratton’s ire long before it materialized as words. She yanked him onto the lowest square, grasping the front of his slick gear in her fist. “Don’t say it.”

“Say what?” He stood slightly behind her as the racing official began his closing remarks.

“How cheated you feel, how wrong it is that we didn’t win a prize purse.” She sucked in a breath when Stratton began stroking his fingers up and down her back. For the life of her, she had no idea what the racing league official said, her concentration was that scattered.

Stratton’s breath warmed her ear. “I was going to say that since I’ve met you, I’ve been cheated out of piloting great ships, had my cash stolen, been thwarted from winning big money hauls or even doing my job. You shot my bounty dead in the street, you managed to wreck every piece of crap we piloted, and beyond that, you’ve tried to control me. If you were me, what would
you
say?”

“None of it was my fault. I was just doing my job too.” She fought the urge to really lay into him. Everything he’d said was true, albeit by circumstances beyond her control. As she opened her mouth to protest, an overwhelming truth hit her. Everything she’d gone through had been
out
of her control. She had no part in steering her fate, except for going back for Stratton on the ice planet. That had been her own decision, no one else’s. What was more, she got through every part, and each one gave her a new understanding of herself.

I survived!

“Thanks to you.” Slowly, she turned to face Stratton, regardless of their precarious position or her aching flesh wound.

“You need to fill me in on the conversation with your invisible friends.” His voice was little more than a growl. “I’m confused.”

“Am I happy with our ranking? Yes and no, but the key here is we finished. All thanks to you. Before I met you, I’d be hanging my head in shame because of this. Now, I’m proud we’re here. Damn, we’ve run through three ships. It’s a wonder we’re in one piece.” Her gaze fell to his drooping shoulder. Finally, she looked at her own wound, wrinkling her nose at the mess of blood and charred racing suit. “Well, mostly.”

“And your point? You’re running your yap, but I’m not hearing results.” Pain settled into lines around his eyes and mouth.

She deserved the twinge of guilt. The guy had to be almost dying. “What would you say to making use of the free registration for next month’s race? If I could get my father to spring for a ship, we’d have a shot.” Surely her father would cooperate if he knew what she’d gone through. Hell, even if he didn’t, maybe she and Stratton could somehow secure a loan, borrow a ship, do some sort of equity work in exchange… Willa reined in her wild thoughts. It all depended on his agreement. Without Sin, the plans would never come to fruition. “Since we work so well together, we’d have an advantage over the rest.” She held her breath as he regarded her.

“I can’t think of a reason why not, except you might get your pretty ass hauled to the nearest spaceport for questioning, since you did kill a guy.”

“That was in self-defense.”

One of his eyebrows rose. “Was it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, and you did steal a ship, then proceeded to destroy that sweet piece of equipment. There might be charges.”

“Maybe so. I’ll just have to fight them.” Her heart pounded. “About the next race?”

“Is it because you want to manage the both of us?”

“No.” When he remained silent, she smacked his shoulder. “Damn it, say something!”

“Woman, I’ll do the next race if you’ll stop hitting me in my bad arm. Better yet, get a new habit.” Some of the pain vanished with his grin. “What was I thinking, getting involved with a pushy, controlling, bad-tempered—”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Hard to say. Are you going to accept life from this moment forward on faith, or will you try to orchestrate it in your favor?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell, yes. I’m of the opinion I’d rather go where fate takes us. Plenty of trouble and bounty to be had that way.” The sexy grin that melted her bones made an appearance. “Besides, none of your plans have turned out well. It’s my turn to come up with a plan.”

“Shut up, Sin.” Sliding her good arm around his neck, she tugged his head down and kissed him. Just let him lust after a new partner after this. Familiar heat built in her core, pulsing and ebbing outward until her body heated and need tickled low in her belly.

He pulled away first, slightly winded. No one in the crowd paid them attention, as they were wildly cheering for whatever the racing official had said. “I bet we could con the folks at the medical facility into giving us a private room.” His eyes darkened with an emotion bordering on love, well past affection.

“Yeah?” She forgot how to breathe for a moment.

“Afterward, I’d like to track down a guy who owes me a favor. He might be able to score us a ship. That way we won’t be dependent on your father’s charity, if he would even grant it.”

“Fine, but I’m the pilot.” She didn’t protest when he caressed her breast under the cover of their embrace.

“Wrong,
kita
. You’re the female, which means you’ll always be the nav. I thought I made this clear the last time around.”

Willa rolled her eyes. It took all her patience not to shove him off the podium. “You’re lucky I’ve got a thing for you.” Instead, she pulled him close again, despite his hiss of pain-filled breath or the agony in her arm. “And I thought we’d worked through your arrogant chauvinist issues.”

“You don’t know everything.” He pinched her ass and grinned when she squealed. “Is that a partnership, then? Or should I cast my lot with one of the racers coming in?”

“Do what you want. Your choice.”

“Aye, that it is.”

“You’ll be sorry with anyone else, though.” A second of profound panic set in. Would he leave her? “I’m the best there is.”

His expression turned serious. “Aye, you are, on many levels.”

A wave of heat washed over Willa’s body, and a huge grin curved her lips. She sagged in his modified hug.

Life was worthless without challenges to reach for, and with Stratton around, the stakes would always be high and stacked with plenty of goals to hit and egos to bust.

“Let’s see about that medical facility. Oh, and clean clothes. And something to eat.” She sighed and stepped off the podium.

“Don’t forget, you’re going to rub my feet and my stomach. Oh, and I want you to tell me more about this ‘thing’ you say you have for me. Does it involve you worshiping me in a bedroom scenario?” He bumped her hip with his.

“You never stop, do you?” But there was no annoyance in her question. He wouldn’t be Stratton if he didn’t drive her to distraction. Willa smiled and quickened her stride. Let him chase her for a while. It would do him good. Life couldn’t be better.

About the Author

Sandra is a writer of romantic fiction. Her portfolio includes historical, contemporary, sci-fi and paranormal romances in full-length books as well as shorts and novellas. No matter if the heat level is spicy or sweet, she loves to blend genres and often times will add humor.

When not immersed in creating new worlds and interesting characters, Sandra likes to read, bake and travel. Her favorite place to spend vacation hours is Walt Disney World. It’s where dreams come true and the soul can play. If she’s not writing, she’s keeping things interesting at her
Believing is Seeing
blog or spending time with her husband, who patiently answers questions she has about men and/or sci-fi-related subjects.

You can write to Sandra at
[email protected]
, visit her website at
www.sandrasookoo.com
or look her up on Facebook and Twitter. All links are provided on the front page of her website.

Acknowledgment

I’d like to take a moment and give kudos to my editor, Linda Ingmanson. In my time as an author, I’ve come into contact with many people who work at getting books ready for publication. Editors are a dime a dozen, and finding a good editor is hard enough, but having the opportunity to work with a great editor is rare—especially one who teaches with patience, imparts relevant information and does it all with a touch of humor. She has my eternal gratitude. Linda, I look forward to working with you again.

His planet is his prison…and only she can set him free.

Overlord

© 2011 Anitra Lynn McLeod

The Fringe, Book 2

After a year, Michael “Overlord” Parker finally knows who’s been pilfering his black market goods. Astonishingly, the elusive Bandit of Taiga isn’t a man. It’s a woman, an infuriating spitfire who’s half in love with “Overlord,” Michael’s overly romanticized reputation.

Remarkably Average Mary exudes an intoxicating scent that Michael can’t quite puzzle out, even with his unique ability. As long as she remains bound and blindfolded, he has the advantage—and the bonus of tormenting the bane of his existence.

Mary’s deceptively innocent face has never failed her. Yet somehow she’s ended up at the mercy of a man she knows only as “Commander.” His demands are simple. Surrender her methods of banditry, or surrender her body. As his essence invades her intuitive ability—and her remaining senses—she becomes increasingly frantic to escape before she yields all that and more to her compelling captor.

Their sensual sparring ignites, and Michael finds himself wanting to erase Overlord’s myth from her fantasies in favor of the real man. But first he has to foil the slippery little devil’s escape attempts. And find out who’s been using her to unknowingly help the empire wipe him off the face of his own planet.

Warning: This futuristic romance contains a planet-owning alpha hero, a feisty heroine who can swear in over thirty languages, a side-kick with a crackleseed addiction, witty repartee, epic space battles, sensual karate, and tight black leather pants.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Overlord:

Overlord eyed her speculatively. “You preach to me of not selling your honor, yet think I should walk away from one who steals from me, for you only steal a little bit. Would things be different if I were to steal only a little bit from you?”

He had a good point. Not that Mary was likely to admit it anytime soon, especially to him.