Cyborg Nation (20 page)

“I mean to choke him to death,” Gideon snarled in a choked voice.

Glancing around a little frantically for a weapon, Bronte finally realized she still had her book in her hand. Charging across the ship, she began pounding on Gideon’s shoulder with the plasti-metal tube. “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” she yelled, punctuating each demand by rapping Gideon on the shoulder with the hard, cylindrical tube.

Jerico snagged her around the waist and snatched her off her feet, heading toward the room with her. After prying at his fingers for a moment and discovering she couldn’t break his grip on her, she began swinging blindly at him with the tube, catching him several times on the head with it before he snatched it out of her hand. “Damn it, woman!” Jerico growled as he set her on her feet inside the cabin. “Stay in here!”

Glaring at his back when he turned to head back into the fray, Bronte followed him. He halted at the door, whirling to face her. “You will stay put or I will
tie
you to that bed!” he ground out.

Bronte snapped at his finger with her teeth when he shook it in her face.

He managed to snatch it back before she could clamp down on it. For a split second an expression of stunned surprise crossed his features. Anger quickly replaced it, however.

“Bronte!” he growled warningly.

“You stop them then!”

His eyes narrowed. “Did you pleasure him with your mouth?” he demanded.

Bronte blinked at him rapidly several times. “He
told
you!” she gasped indignantly.

Jerico’s face contorted with fury. Turning on his heel, he left the room abruptly.

Furious herself now, Bronte was tempted to let them kill each other. As she watched the fight, however, searching a little frantically for something she might use to distract them, her gaze lit on the refrigeration unit. Stalking over to it, she opened the door, snatched the large container of ice water from the shelf and pitched the contents at them. As full as the container was, it seemed doubtful more than a glass full had hit any of the three. They were already overheated from fighting, however, and the moment the icy water sluiced over them all three men sucked in a harsh gasp of shock and froze, lifting their heads slowly to stare at her in disbelief.

Stunned herself at the effectiveness of it, Bronte stared back at them with a shock nearly equal to theirs. The moment their shock wore off, however, and all three faces went taut with anger, Bronte dropped the container and sailed back to the safety of the room. She wasn’t sure where to go once she got there. There was no place to hide and no room that she could barricade against them—nothing she could drag to the door to use as a barricade. The bed was attached to the wall and floor.

Scurrying over to the bed, she hopped on top of the mattress and snatched the cover up … as if it would work as some sort of shield if they decided to come after her.

Minutes passed while Bronte tried to listen over the thumping of her heartbeat in her ears and wondered what in the world had possessed her. She’d just decided they weren’t going to follow her when the door opened and all three men crowded into the doorway. After staring at her frowningly for several moments, however, as if
they
were trying to figure out what had possessed her, they turned and left again.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Bronte dropped the cover she’d been holding and stared at the door thoughtfully, wondering
why
she’d decided to interfere. It didn’t take long to arrive at the conclusion that she hadn’t actually decided to at all. She’d felt a compulsion to stop them and she’d acted on impulse.

As her impulses went, this one hadn’t been near the disaster her urges usually were. In fact, now that she thought about it, it had actually worked very well. She’d broken the fight up and in record time.

She still didn’t know why she’d felt compelled to do anything at all.

She hadn’t wanted them to hurt Gabriel, she realized.

Not that he didn’t deserve it since he’d gone straight out and
told
them when she’d warned him not to, she thought indignantly. After she’d thought it over a few minutes it occurred to her that he might not have. He’d been so sated he’d hardly been able to drag himself up. She smiled faintly at the memory.

He’d looked so cute and addled when he’d left.

Maybe he hadn’t said anything to start it? Maybe they’d only looked at him and known instantly that he’d just been thoroughly pleasured and they had suspected he had gone against orders? And then he’d told them in his defense?

She hadn’t been able to hear what had been said. She’d only heard angry voices, and that had happened almost as soon as he’d left. By the time she’d managed to get to the door the ‘conversation’ had degenerated mostly into growls and grunts.

She supposed they’d jumped him because they’d thought he hadn’t followed orders.

Gideon
had
to have been the one to give those orders and it made her mad all over again when she thought about it. Why would he do that, she wondered, feeling her anger dissolve as misery took its place?

He must hate her. She felt a deep down ache at the thought, wishing she could go back and undo what she’d done. It wasn’t as if she would’ve actually had the nerve to try to fly the ship herself, after all—not unless she’d found herself completely on her own with no other options.

On reflection, she decided that had been the
worst
impulse she’d ever had … next to
telling
him what she’d had in mind under pleasurable torture, and the comments her anger had prompted afterward.

Not that she wasn’t still thoroughly pissed off about it, damn him!

And
he’d ordered them to torment her!
Ordered
them to, she thought in disbelief!

She frowned at that thought, wondering abruptly if the orders had been only that they weren’t supposed to pleasure her or if they’d been told to tease her and keep her on edge? She’d
thought
that was what Gabriel had meant, but he hadn’t said that. He’d said they’d been ordered not to pleasure her and she’d jumped to the conclusion that Gideon had given the order specifically to torment her. That wasn’t true, though, unless he’d specifically told them to tease her and leave her in the lurch.

She was trying to make excuses for him, she realized after a moment, irritated with herself. She
wanted
to make excuses for him so she could forgive him.

What difference did it make, though, if she forgave him if he’d decided he hated her?

She was actually beginning to look forward to reaching their destination. At least then, hopefully, she would have work to do and not so much idle time to drive herself crazy with too much thinking. At least she wouldn’t be cooped up in close quarters with those three barbarians!

They’d probably be more relieved than she was. She probably wouldn’t ever see them again. Very likely they would volunteer to go off and fight at the first opportunity, or maybe even volunteer for another mission like this one—anything to get as far away from her as possible, she thought morosely.

Chapter Thirteen

“That was … unnerving,” Gideon said uncomfortably, rubbing absently at his bruises as he dropped onto the bench by the table, watching Jerico prepare their meal.

Gabriel, who’d settled opposite him, nodded, but worriedly. “You saw no sign of space dementia?”

“You saw her yourself. She did not look at all disoriented. I am convinced that she was only angry. I am just not certain what set her off.”

“Gabriel.”

Both Gideon and Gabriel turned to look at Jerico. He threw Gabriel a resentful glance. “I think that she was trying to defend Gabriel from you,” he added after a moment, frowning at the container he was trying to open without spilling the food inside of it.

Gideon’s eyes narrowed as he studied Gabriel. “Why would you think she would do that?”

Jerico shrugged. “She did not offer to pleasure me that way,” he said tightly.

Gideon said nothing. She hadn’t offered to pleasure him that way either, but he was damned if he was going to admit it. “Exactly what did you do when you went in there?” he asked instead.

Gabriel shrugged, so obviously trying to hide his satisfaction that Gideon was tempted to reach across the table and slug him again. “I had repaired her glasses. I took them to her and … actually I do not remember anything very clearly after that. I was trying
not
to think about throwing her down on the bed and fucking her while she was smiling up at me. All I can remember very clearly was that she kissed me,” he touched his chest, “here, and then I could not really think about anything but kissing her in the same place … And then I was.”

“How did it get from there to her pleasuring you?”

“I told her I wanted to....” Gabriel broke off, shifting uncomfortably.

“Wanted to …?” Gideon prompted.

Gabriel sent him a harassed look. “I
might
have said something to the effect that I couldn’t, and then she offered to pleasure me instead.”

“Fuck!” Gideon growled, shooting up from the table. “
Tell
me you did not go in there and allow her to interrogate you, you cock sucking son-of-a-bitch!”

Gabriel shot to his feet, as well. “I was not sucking cock. I got my cock sucked!” he snapped goadingly.

“He spilled his guts,” Jerico growled in disgust. “I can see it on his face! Are you going to take him into the hold and beat the shit out of him? Or do you want me to?”

“I will take you both!” Gabriel snarled, stalking over to the hatch and snatching it open. Before he could straighten, Gideon planted his foot on his ass and gave him a shove. He managed to catch one of the rungs on the way down.

Gideon slammed the hatch and bolted it.

“Now what?” Jerico growled.

“I am all out of ideas,” Gideon snarled, stalking back to the table and dropping onto the bench he’d just vacated.

Gabriel began beating on the hatch door.

“At ease, soldier,” Gideon bellowed, “or I will come down there and break your fucking neck!”

Apparently Gabriel decided it would be best to stew in the hold for a while. He stopped beating on the hatch door. “I think we can safely assume he told her everything,” Gideon ground out. “That is why she came out and beat me with her book.”

“She tried to bite me,” Jerico added. “She is angry with both of us … very angry.”

“Because Gabriel could not keep his mouth shut!” Gideon snarled, getting to his feet and beginning to pace. Discovering after a few minutes that he was biting his nails, he stopped abruptly, stared at his hand in horror for several moments and finally settled at the table again. “This is wrecking my nerves,” he muttered, spearing his fingers through his hair as he propped his elbows on the table and held his head in his hands.

Jerico cleared his throat uncomfortably. After a good bit of rattling of containers, he finally assembled the food and tossed two of the meals into the cooking unit. “Do you think that what she did with Gabriel means that she favors him?”

Gideon looked up at him, his face slowly growing taut with anger. “Do you?”

Jerico shrugged, then frowned as he thought it over. “I wonder what it was like,” he finally said moodily. “I will say this for Gabriel—he is far braver than I. I would not have allowed her to put her mouth on me. She is too ready to bite.”

Gideon gave him a look. “You would do the same thing he did. You would risk it if she offered.” He paused. “I would, and she already bit my finger.”

* * * *

The first thing Bronte became aware of as she drifted toward consciousness was burgeoning arousal and a shivery, all-pervading, tingling tension. Warmth drifted through her, curled low in her belly, coaxing moisture from the walls of her sex and causing a gentle quaking as need stirred to life. Becoming more aware in her lazy search for the source, she eventually located the point where the delightful sensations were channeling into her.

There was a mouth attached to one of her breasts, tugging at the distended tip with a lazy, unhurried persistence that induced gentle waves of pleasure to wash through her. Awareness rose until it met the blanketing barrier of arousal in her mind that discouraged conscious thought as her focus centralized on the perception of sensation. Misgiving drifted through her mind, though, a nebulous certainty that acknowledging the giver would make the pleasure go away.

She shied away from that, unwilling to let go of the enchantment, allowing the receptors of sensation in her mind free reign to usurp cognitive awareness in favor of the visceral. It couldn’t last. She couldn’t hold on to it. Her allowance of sensory perception to dominate made it impossible to remain passive. The warmth intensified into heat. The tingling grew in strength until it became electric currents. The tension expanded outward until it encompassed not just her sex but every muscle in her body. Tremors began to ripple through her in her effort to remain still that gave away her awareness.

Feeling him tense as he became aware that she was no longer sleeping, she reluctantly gave up feigning sleep and sucked in a shaky breath that bordered on a moan.

He took that as a cue to shift his attentions to her other breast. She shivered as he released the bud he’d been teasing and the air chilled the moisture that lingered there from his mouth. The contrast of cold and heat as his mouth opened over her other nipple evoked a cascade of stippling flesh across her upper body that washed downward over her arms and breasts and belly. The walls of her sex spasmed, squeezing a gush of heated moisture into her sex.

The certainty settled in her that he would stop when he realized she was nearing her peak. He would tease her on and on until she thought she would die if he didn’t fill her with his flesh and drive into her until he took her the rest of the way there, and then he would abandon her.

And she still couldn’t find the will to try to avoid that inevitability. Instead, even knowing she was playing into his hands, she found herself struggling to hide from him just how aroused she was so that she could enjoy it just a little longer before he took even that away from her.