“Sheesh, get a grip of yourself, Johnny-me-lad,” he muttered as he ran a shaky hand through his hair, sending the short spikes into disarray. The way he was reacting, cock hard and heavy in the loose combat pants he favored off stage, anyone would think he was a Gemini, an infiltration cyborg with a predilection for honey-traps. He wasn’t.
Aries 7000, the name he used in his act, was a reflection of his true nature. An Aries class, he was designed for heavy combat and demolitions and he was damn good at it. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do with explosives. No building, ship or safe he couldn’t crack with a little inventiveness and a shaped charge.
In his hands, demolitions became a work of art. He could parallel and string mines to bring an enemy force to their knees before they’d fired their first shot on the battlefield. Hell, give him a tea trolley and some spare time and he could take their entire command structure out while they had their morning brew.
And here he was acting like a damn randy Gemini looking for a lay. Shaking his head, Johnny shut the android’s front plates, his hands under the plastic and synth-skin covered breasts as he found and pressed down on the latches with his thumbs. To anyone watching it would look like he was copping a quick feel, but nothing could be further from the truth. The latches caught, the tiny click more felt than heard, and he twisted to pick up the sealing wand, running it down the cut in the synth that had the ‘droid open from clavicle to pelvis.
“You’re looking for a
cyborg
bot? Are you sure?”
Cyn’s voice filtered through from the main shop, the tone in it making Johnny frown as he finished closing the android. Using his implants, he uplinked with it and sent it off to stand between a gladiator and a sexy secretary model.
“We don’t tend to carry many like that because of the potential for panic. Yes, they really
can
be that lifelike. Just last week I had to recover one of my gladiator bots from the arena because the client misplaced it and the authorities thought he’d escaped.”
Moving to the door, Johnny stood behind the one-way mesh, the iridescent fabric concealing his form while allowing him to see the interior of the shop clearly. Like most bot-shops, it was large, with several circular podiums dotted along the walls. Each contained an android, the wall mirrored behind them to show the product off to potential customers. Down the center of the room was a runway of sorts, its edges marked out with tiny strip lights. Every so often a model would activate and take a walk down the runway, pausing to pose before returning to its original place.
That was where Cyn had the opposition beat hands down. Her bots walked and talked like the real thing, none of the time lag or wooden movements and expressions of her competitors work as her skill with android mechanics shone through.
What astounded him was that it was just a hobby, something she’d picked up on the side while they’d been deployed in the ass end of beyond somewhere with just themselves and androids for company. The damn things always broke down, and as the squad’s cybernetics expert, Cyn was the only one who’d had half a clue what to do to get them working again. It was that or dig their own latrines and they were so not going there.
“Com’on, shift that ass,” he muttered as one of the dancing girls shimmied across his field of vision and blocked his view of the customer with the query. Like Cyn, his hackles had gone up at the request for a cyborg. Sure, they were well hidden through a combination of new identities, hacked from some provincial backwater planet’s governmental mainframe, and Cyn’s ability to replace most of their implants with shielded tech that foiled every scanner they’d come across. The worry that something new would come out that she couldn’t foil, that they would be caught with their pants down, was always there in the back of his mind.
The bot moved. Johnny dragged a startled breath in.
“Shit.”
There, in the center of the shop, was the woman from last night. Stunned, his gaze took in every inch of her appearance, from the dark curls piled on top of her head, secured haphazardly with a pair of chopsticks right down to the heavy boots of a dockworker. The docks…why hadn’t he thought of that? The timing of her visits, her relaxed style…all the clues clicked into place. She crewed on the freighters.
He watched her carefully, scrutinizing the straightness of her bearing without getting distracted by the sexy curve of her neck revealed by the messy up-do and the direct look and firm manner she used dealing with Cyn. No, she wasn’t crew. He’d bet his last credit she was an owner-operator of one of the big rigs currently on the docking ring of the station.
“So you have no androids that resemble cyborgs at all?” Her disappointment was evident as she looked about the shop. The gladiator model was on the runway and it stopped as it sensed her looking its way and posed. Johnny growled, the urge to knock its plastic teeth down the back of its throat almost getting the better of him. Hell, he had it bad if just a bot looking at her had him ready to kill it.
“
Stall her.”
He sent to Cyn via their internal comms link. It was one of the few implants they kept active while on station. A lot of people had cyber-implants, most were medical-grade, but comms units were also common, the small implants so tiny they hardly impacted on the five percent cybernetics every citizen was allowed before they had to register as a cyber. No one wanted to do that and become a second-class citizen, so most stayed well away from the five percent.
“Hmmm…there is something…let me have a look…” Cyn’s voice was pitched loud enough for him to hear as he stepped back and stripped off his shirt. “
Johnny…please tell me I’m not going to regret this?”
The shirt fell to the floor as he looked at himself quickly in the full length mirror by the door. From one of the podiums, it was cracked on one side and tilted against the wall, but usable. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to tame the spikes but gave up. It would have to do. His combats were dark gray, not the quite the black he used in the show but thankfully he’d put boots on this morning, not sandals. Yeah, he could pull this off.
“When would I ever do that to you, sweetheart?”
Leaning forward he looked at his face in the mirror and concentrated. After a moment a stain appeared on his cheek, quickly solidifying into letters and numbers as he released the cellular control of the chameleon pad under his cheek. Not his number, he couldn’t risk that…but a random string that would mean nothing if someone got curious enough to run it.
“You want a list? Yeah, there’s something here. It’s a prototype, but I’ll just activate him and you can take a look,” Cyn said aloud, then switched to internal communication to speak to him.
“Hun, she wants to hire a sexbot…ohmygod, I just became your procurer. You owe me a day at the Starburst bar for this. I want the works. Stellar massage, their diamonite facial…oh my god,
and
their nebula foot bath!”
He bit back his grin as he set his movements and walked forward. Instead of pushing the one-way aside, he simply walked through it. The fabric caught on his head and shoulders, obscuring his vision for a moment before it fell away. Without looking left or right, he marched through the shop, almost body-slammed the gladiator bot and stopped by the side of the petite woman looking at him with her mouth open.
God, the things he could do with that pretty mouth. Locking the erotic thoughts away, he swiveled his head from her to Cyn. “You activated me?”
Chapter Three
Oh my fucking god.
That the shop had a cyborg model was beyond her wildest dreams, but when the prototype walked through into the shop Milly’s heart almost stopped. Big, broad-shouldered and bulging with muscles, it was as if Johnny Ram himself had walked into the shop, large as life and twice as lickable.
“I have to warn you.” The shop owner, Cyn, ignored the bot and carried on talking to her. “He is a prototype, so he has a few personality glitches. Bluntly put, he’s a pain in the ass. All talk…don’t worry. He has the usual behavioral limiters so there’s no way he could hurt you actively or through inaction.”
“Uh huh.”
Milly was only half-listening to her as she walked a slow circle around the bot. He was perfect. Every detail, from his musculature right down to the costume he wore, was spot on. Amazement and awe for the bot creator’s skill surged through her. She’d long ago learnt not to expect too much from bots, particularly ones based on celebrities. They were always that little bit off, either the eyes too close together or maybe the lips and nose not quite right. She leaned forward to stroke a finger down the bot’s back. But this one was perfect, even down to the individual pores in the skin.
“Amazing. You do great work.”
“Thank you. He’s a bit of a project.” Cyn beamed at her as Milly circled around to the front again to look up into the bot’s face.
He was so freaking tall, exactly the same height as the real thing. Standing so close, she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. No surprise there, all sexbots had internal heat regulation to make them appear more human. What did surprise her was the bolt of need that speared her, arrowing down to her groin and making her pussy clench hard.
God, just looking at him got her wet. She’d never had that before, not with a human lover and definitely never with a bot.
“How much?” she asked suddenly, her gaze flicking over the alpha-numeric sequence and wandering down his body as she looked her fill. Big shoulders, solid chest, tight abs, lean hips…
oh yeah.
Kneeling down, she peered at the ink on his stomach.
“More than skin deep
… That’s amazing. You even got the tattoo perfect.”
“I bring in outside experts for the small details as and when required.” Cyn shrugged.
“Just part of the whole experience. As for price… He
is
a prototype and he’s still in learning mode. If—” She paused and considered Milly keenly. “Would you be willing to fill in a performance questionnaire? On his attitude, prowess and stamina? If you would, then you can have him for the full four days. No charge apart from the retainer. Which will, of course, be refunded to your credit line when you return him undamaged.”
Free. She tapped her lips and pretended to consider the offer. Free was a damn good price. Her favorite price. She looked up to find his green-gold gaze on her, with what looked a lot like heat in them, which wasn’t possible. Even though she was on her knees in front of him in what could be perceived as a sexually provocative position, no bot should react to that and get…
She couldn’t resist. Her gaze flicked down, her nose on the same level as his belt buckle. The thick bar of his cock was easily visible straining the faded fabric.
“Experimental predictive arousal system,” Cyn supplied at her gasp, amusement in her voice. “That can be a bit glitchy as well. Either that or he’s just randy all the time.”
He was huge. Just like Johnny.
“Can I?” Fingers going to the snaps on the bots pants, she arced an eyebrow in Cyn’s direction. If she was going to be road-testing the thing, she really should check out its capabilities.
Yeah, right
, the little voice in her head sneered,
You just want to see what Johnny’s cock looks like
.
“
Be my guest.”
Cyn waved her on and busied herself with a data pad on the counter in front of her, as if the whole process of a bot’s genitals bored her to tears. Probably did, making the things, she probably saw them as a collection of parts, whereas Milly was still teetering between knowing that the thing in front of her was a bot and wanting to suspend disbelief so she could buy into the fantasy that this really was Johnny Ram. A version of him who couldn’t be hurt if that asshole Jason decided to play the asshole.
Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she dipped her fingers beneath the waistband of the pants. The muscles in his stomach twitched at the slight brush of her fingers and she stopped, fascinated.
“Here, let me help.”
His voice broke in unexpectedly, his large hands closing over hers and moving them to curl around his hips as he unbuckled his pants for her. She watched his hands, large and capable, as he unsnapped each fastener. Her mouth went dry as anticipation caught her in its grasp. She couldn’t have looked away for all the cargo on the station.
“Told you, he’s bossy. It’s a personality glitch I still need to sort,” Cyn commented as she peered at the pad, fingers quick as she put the hire paperwork together for Milly to take.
“He is. He’s perfect.”
It
was
perfect. Milly sat back on her heels and looked up at her big, perfect Johnny bot. Or would that be Rambot? He was bossy, but that didn’t bother her. Bossy was good at the right time and place, like in the bedroom. She suppressed a shiver of excitement at the thought of bossy becoming forceful. She wasn’t into the bondage gear and whatnot of the BDSM scene, but hell, did she like a guy to be take charge when it came to sex. Add in the added excitement of a bad boy and she was caught—hook, line and sinker.
A feral expression flashed across his face before it vanished, leaving her to wonder if she’d seen it at all.
“Cyborgs are not bossy,” he argued, taking a small step toward her. “We are dominant and assertive. Get my cock out. Touch it.”
“
Aries 7000!
” Cyn snapped. “Behave yourself.”
He gave her a haughty look. “Begone, human, I am busy.”
Heat pooled in Milly’s lower body, scalding dampness slipping from her cunt to soak her panties. Decision made, she surged to her feet before she did something she’d regret. Like embarrass herself by sucking a bot’s cock right there in the shop.
“I’ll take him. Four days hire.
Later,”
she said in an undertone to the Rambot. “
Do yourself up.”
You
’ll pay for that one, missy.
Personality glitch indeed. Unable to get anything through their mental link over the uproarious sound of Cyn’s amusement, Johnny contented himself with giving her a hard look, both for the comments and the fact that he was now sporting a lurid pink t-shirt that had “House of Cyn” emblazoned across the chest, as he followed his mystery woman out of the shop.
Hard on her heels, he uplinked to the shop’s database, pulling the rental agreement that Cyn had just input. A small grunt crossed his lips as she stopped, waiting for a group of Tralaxians to pass by, their high-pitched chatter irritating his ears. The pause gave him time to concentrate on the sexy curve of her neck, revealed by her upswept hairstyle, and the details on the form as it downloaded.
She was Milly Locke, freighter captain of the
Starflame
, and a human from the Tervashis colonies. Interesting, he wouldn’t have put her down as a Tervashi, they normally ran to tall and blonde, the women less curvy than the brunette vixen in front of him. He scrolled through the rest of the form as she started walking again. The rest of the data was routine. The
Starflame
was docked at the station, and she’d added the dock number and departure code as security against his “hire”. A four day hire. He knew it, she
was
into him. So why had she run at the club?
Intrigued, he remote linked to the station public access database, careful to conceal his tracks as Cyn had drilled into him. The last thing they needed was the authorities to work out that there were a couple of rogue cyborgs on base. The slightest hint would have the Fleet’s Witchfinder General on base quicker than an Arborian speed-skater. If that happened, he and Cyn would be gone just as quick. Their cover was good, but not that good. A medical exam would quickly pick up that their implants were far more extensive than the few medical grade installs that Cyn had listed on their doctored records.
A search for Milly on the public access database got him a date of birth and the fact that she was currently single. He pursed his lips, but smiled as she cast him a look over her shoulder. Currently single. That meant she hadn’t been before. Perhaps married? Separated? Either, or, she was single now and that was all he cared about. Much as he wanted to get her into bed, Johnny didn’t do married women. He had some principles. Admittedly not many, but some. Not fooling around with married women was one of them, that and underage girls. He didn’t do jail-bait, often had security remove them from his shows, tickets or not.
Rooting around in the record yielded no other tidbits of information. Frustration welled up. There was nothing else listed on the public access database, and without access to a secured uplink, he wasn’t about to go digging. Not when he had far more interesting things in his immediate future anyway.
“Come on then, big boy. Let’s get you home so I can have my wicked way with you.” She flicked him another glance over her shoulder, her eyes full of heat. He bit back a groan. The smoky, sultry sound of her voice did things to his body that should be illegal, his cock rubbing against the fabric of his combats, desperate to be free. Since when had a woman been able to arouse him with just her voice?
Falling into step behind her like a good little bot, Johnny contented himself with watching the seductive sway of her ass and picturing it naked as he drove into her from behind. God, she had a fantastic ass. One he was going to spend many happy hours behind, pleasuring her and teaching her to take every inch of his long, thick cock in every position he could think of.
She moved quickly, walking with a purpose and drive that seemed innate. Men turned to watch her as they passed but she ignored them all. It was as though she didn’t realize they were watching her, nor recognize the lust in their eyes. Johnny scowled at them, his whole stance protective and possessive to shut down any ideas they might be harboring of approaching her, then scurried after his little human like a pup on a leash.
Him, Johnny Ram, scurrying. It was laughable. Didn’t she realize how attractive she was? No, attractive wasn’t the word. She was way past attractive and into full on fucking gorgeous. A fact his cock was intent on reminding him, fully erect and fit to burst, his balls tight with the need to drive into her. Pound into her tight little pussy until he came deep within her silken depths. God, he hoped her ship wasn’t on the outer rings. There was no way he’d make it that far. He was so hard he could hammer a hole through plate steel.
“Yeah, that’s cool. Thanks, Sienna.” She spoke into the thin device wrapped around her wrist like a bracelet as they took a lift to the upper docking ring, a delightful little frown creasing her brow. He wanted to kiss it, distract her from whatever was causing her to frown.
He flicked a glance out through the glass sides of the lift shaft. They were all bigger freighters up here, forced to dock on the upper levels to accommodate the deep hulls rising around them like trees in a forest. Silver, green, red, purple. He couldn’t see them all but, leviathan like, they made him feel tiny.
“The refuel is done and they’re loading now. Should be done in a couple of hours but we couldn’t get a window until Tuesday, and the clients aware of the time delay. So, don’t panic. Enjoy the weekend.” She slid a sideways glance at Johnny. Awareness and heat sizzled through his body all the way down to his boots, then bounced back up to tighten his balls. “I certainly intend to. Locke out.”
The lift reached the top of the shaft and clunked as it moved onto the orbital track. Within seconds they were swept sideways, red, then silver hulls zipping past them until they came to rest alongside a docking hatch with purple hull-plates. Purple. It suited her. Every time she’d come to see his act, she’d been wearing something purple. A top, a wrist strap, tiny studs in her ears.
“Home, sweet, home.”
Her smile hit him deep in the gut as the hatch cycled to let them into the interior of the ship. A smile that had nothing to do with anything other than happiness. Joy in being alive, joy in the moment. Joy at being with him? He hoped so. The hatch released, the hiss of the atmosphere’s equalizing loud to his enhanced hearing. Extending an arm, he motioned that she should precede him.
“Ladies first.”
“Such a gentleman.” She walked past him and into the brightly lit airlock, Johnny hot on her heels. “I don’t know what Cyn was on about with your attitude. I think you—”
He didn’t give her chance to finish the sentence as he closed in. Hand hard on her shoulder, he spun her around to face him, backed her up against the cool metal of the airlock and dropped his mouth down on hers in a hard, claiming kiss.
“HhhHHmmmm.”
The muffled sound of surprise degenerated into one of need and pleasure, became a purr as he ruthlessly took her lips, prizing them apart so he could thrust his tongue inside and claim the silken sweetness within. A rough groan hit him, ripped from his chest as he tangled his tongue with hers. Sliding and stroking as he pinned her smaller body between his and the bulkhead.