Suddenly, the sensation of being out on an open deck was real. A gust of solar wind blew across the port bow. Tarik turned his face to the breeze. A feeling of triumph welled in his chest.
The embolic feeds retracted, and the pressure locks release. BioOne drifted away from the docking platform. A rush of raw power akin to sex surged through him, thickening his cock as heat simmered in his groin. He’d done it. He’d stolen BioOne.
Slow and steady, the ship backed away from the spaceport. Small, insignificant, and not a threat to those who didn’t understand what it was capable of. The control towers allowed the ship to pass, and he navigated through the ships clustered around the port.
His heart pounded as he kept alert, watching for the slightest disruption to his plans. A Tri’Neith battle cruiser bristling with massive guns was stationed at the perimeter of the port. Tarik held his breath. BioOne, as a cargo ship, would seem little more than a speck by comparison while passing by the behemoth war ship.
Once clear of the outer marker beacons, he engaged the engines. Running his fingertips over the propulsion panel, he steered the ship forward then slipped into light speed with ease.
“We’re clear,” he informed the bot, almost not believing he’d taken command of BioOne.
Tarik allowed a smile to form on his mouth as he shed his pockmarked battle armor. Then he flinched, reminded of his upper arm burn caused by the energy blast. Both sides had fought to the death. Losses Tarik refused to feel now. Later, when the war was over or when he was dead and he no longer mattered, he’d remember.
Taking a moment after a very long day, he sank back into comfort of the captain’s control chair. Stars streaked past overhead until he closed his eyes and enjoyed the silence of space.
A hum, a deadly hum, crawled over his flesh. A pulse rifle charging prickled the hairs across the nape of his neck. Sweat beaded along his hairline.
“Go for your weapon, and I’ll blow your hand off.” The command wasn’t from any fem-bot.
He opened his eyes to find an attractive female with dark hair and wide green eyes staring down at him. She held a pulse gun—
his fully charged pulse gun
—and it was aimed directly at him. How in the hell had the woman come aboard? The scent of perfume hadn’t come from the fem-bot. “How did you get on board?”
“I’ll ask the questions.” Her full lips were anything but smiling. Another time, in a different place, she’d be a temptation. She was slim and athletic. His type—that was if she weren’t pointing his pulse gun at his head. Her thick dark lashes lowered as her eyes narrowed. “Your gun.” She indicated the blaster strapped to his thigh. “I’ll take it.”
His lips twitched. “You can try.” He had no idea how multiple sweeps of this ship could have missed her, or what he’d do with her once disarmed. But he could guess why she was there. Only diplomatic papers would get her on board, probably entertainment for the captain. Regardless, he still had control of the ship. At least for as long as she didn’t pull the trigger and obliterate him.
Even if he still had communication with Jone and his team, they wouldn’t be of help. He didn’t need them. With a mental command to BioOne, he waited.
****
Shon Monet’s arms trembled trying to support the man’s heavy gun. Charging the gun hadn’t been difficult. Firing accurately posed a major problem. “Maybe I should tell you that I’ve never fired a pulse gun, but I’ve covered war zones and seen the effects. So best case scenario, you’ll lose your hand.” She allowed the gun to shift lower, redirecting aim at his groin. “Or perhaps a smaller target?”
The man stayed relaxed with his hands on the captain’s chair armrests and made no move for his gun. However, she wasn’t about to trust someone who was hijacking a Tri’Neith diplomatic ship—with her on board.
“This is the point where you make your demands,” he said, leaning back in the chair and acting as if he wasn’t caught in a treasonous act.
“M-me?” she stammered.
The space pirate had hypnotizing ice blue eyes, long feathery lashes, and expressive brows. She couldn’t look at him without feeling a tug in her belly. Although he was attractive, in a beautiful and dangerous way, the feeling wasn’t pleasant. Her stomach rolled as adrenaline rushed through her.
“You’re the one hijacking the ship. What is it that you want?” There was something frightening about his almost predatory calm. “No. I don’t care what you want.” She lifted the gun and took an authoritative posture. “I’m taking command of this ship and will be the one making demands here. I order you to return to port. Now.”
He cocked a brow, and she bristled. Damn it, this was supposed to be a simple assignment. Her intentions had been to do a story on the ship, tout the accomplishments of the government, and land the best story of her life.
BioOne—the new era of diplomacy
. But something just hadn’t rung true. Why had the Tri’Neith Minister of Defense assigned her an escort and restricted her access to a supposed harmless ship?
She had her own government contact, Darcolm. She trusted him, and when she’d told him of her plan to do a little investigative reporting, he’d cautioned her against deviating from the agenda. When he couldn’t convince her to stay with the entourage, he’d told her not to trust anyone.
Shon had been on her own long enough to know to take his advice. With her history, orphaned at twelve and unwilling to find herself destitute or, worse, a sex slave to some barbarian, she always listened to her gut. Something had seemed off, and even though Darcolm thought her imagination was getting the better of her, she’d decided to slip aboard BioOne for a better look. Curiosity made her a good journalist, but today, it had put her in a compromised position.
She waved the gun. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but I’m going to find out and you won’t get away with it.”
“I hope you’re wrong. But in the meantime, you’re on my ship, and if you don’t lower the gun, I’ll have the ship disarm you.”
“What?” She scoffed while readjusting the heavy gun. “It hasn’t escaped my notice that you and I are the only ones on this ship.” She glanced to the booty-bot hovering in the corner. “And that.”
He glared at the bot. “She’s obviously malfunctioning.”
Unwilling to lower the gun, Shon tried blowing stray hair from her eyes. “Why? Because she isn’t being a good droid and
servicing
her owner?”
“She should’ve alerted me to your presence.”
“Perhaps she would’ve been more forthcoming with information if you hadn’t instructed her to turn off her orator function.” Shon had listened to the exchange from her hiding place inside the captain’s suite.
At least he hadn’t taken the bot up on her offerings. He was too attractive to need a synthetic sexual servant. Hair, black as deep space, tied back at the nape of his neck. A couple days growth of whiskers shadowed his cheeks, strong square jaw, and cleft chin. Intelligent, soul-piercing eyes stared at her with a mocking blue gleam. Maybe he wasn’t right in the head. Tall, muscular, intimidating…insane? Obviously he thought he’d be all alone on this flight.
When she screwed up, she screwed up good. In hindsight, Darcolm had been right. She should have stayed with the government entourage. Of course, then she wouldn’t have known about the hostile hijacking of this ship. There was a story here, and damn it, she was going to tell it. “Stand up and put your hands on the top of your head.”
The man smiled as he stood—without putting either hand on his head—and took a step toward her. “Do you want to search me?”
Her sweaty palms gripped to the pulse gun harder, jerking the barrel threateningly as if she weren’t scared out of her mind to pull the trigger. “Are you mad, or do you have a death wish? I said, get your hands up.”
“I’m not going to hurt you…and I’m not going to give you my gun.” He sidled around the captain’s chair. “But I think I would still like you to search me.” He licked his lower lip and let his gaze rake over her body.
Shon warmed beneath the black body suit. She’d gone for stealth, and now her nipples clearly betrayed her, prodding against the body-hugging microfiber. “Tri’Neith sector control won’t let you get far,” she warned.
Needing him disarmed and needing control of the ship, she hesitantly approached him. Not that she knew the slightest thing about navigating a starship through space. Perhaps the booty-bot could be used for something besides fellatio.
“The ship and everything on board is mine.” He placed a hand on the control panel. “Including you.”
Fearing she had no other choice against him, she aimed, swallowed the dry lump in her throat, braced for…something, and fired. Nothing happened. Her gaze dropped to the gun. The gun was dead in her hands. She squeezed the trigger again.
The man lunged. Shon screamed. She’d have fled, but he was on her in an instant. Pain seared through her fingers as the gun ripped from her hand. In a flash, she was spun around and pressed against the wall of the ship. His hands were like steel manacles on her wrist, holding her immobile as much as his powerful body. The hard contours of his chest crushed her back.
“Let me go.” She thrashed trying to break his hold. But he pressed closer, almost lifting her feet from the floor. Oh god, the hard ridge of his cock nestled into the crease of her ass, tempting her to back against it.
Stupid girl. S
he didn’t want to become his willing victim. Perhaps the fem-bot’s pheromones were clouding her judgment. Fear should be clawing at the corners of her mind, not measuring the strength of this man and the hardness of his cock.
Suddenly, she realized just how precarious her situation was. He was strong, had control of a government vessel, and now had control of her. She turned her head and managed a gasp of breath. He was as solid as the wall beneath her face…and as warm.
“Scan her.” The masculine grate of his voice, so close to her ear, skittered over her flesh.
She was about to give a scathing response when a subtle vibration quivered in her belly. The sensation radiated out from her chest. A slight ringing started in her ears, along with the rapid pounding of her heartbeat. Or was it his?
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Hold still. The ship is scanning you.” He held both of her wrists in one hand and with his other, skimmed his palm along her side, surfing over the grooves of her ribs, over the curve of her hip, and onto the flat plane of her belly. With arousing slowness, he ran his hands along her inner thigh, sending heat into her pussy and fear down her spine. “You may have eluded me during my search, but you won’t hide anything from BioOne.” He found and removed her last defense, a small blast gun hidden at her ankle.
Shon shivered and sank her teeth into her bottom lip. How intoxicating was his touch? Or maybe it was the rush of pheromones causing her arousal.
“Who are you?” he demanded. “And what are you doing on my ship?”
“None of your business. And this isn’t your ship. It’s a Tri’Neith vessel.”
His body held her immobile. “As much as I’m enjoying your struggle…”
Enjoying?
His hand roamed over her like a blind man, as if committing her body to memory. His erection nudged her lower back, and his breath was hot against her flesh. Primal, powerful, and dangerous. Damn him. That quiver in her belly was fear, not arousal. Fear because this man could take what he wanted and she was—
unarmed
—enough to let him. He
had
taken what he wanted—the ship. And now apparently her, too.
Her struggling had little effect on his hold but clearly had an effect on his body. If sex appeal was her only weapon, she was totally screwed. And if she wasn’t smart, it would be in an erotic and satisfying way. She needed to get her thoughts together. She needed a new strategy. “We can compromise.”
“I’ll release you if you’ll calm down.”
“I’ll stop struggling once you release me.”
“You’re the only one in a position of compromise. And your weapons won’t function. Decide quickly to cooperate with me because one way or another you will tell me why you’re aboard my ship.” He stepped back, putting space between them, and gestured for her to sit down.
“No.” She jerked her arms out of his grasp and shoved him back. Scrambling away, she glanced left and right, looking for something she could use as a weapon since the damn gun malfunctioned.
The man sighed. “Here is the situation as it pertains to you. You have two choices. Stay on the ship or get the fuck off.” He turned and glared at her. “It’s a hell of a float back to port. Hopefully, you have a good sense of direction.”
“I don’t find this situation funny.” Although, she supposed it could be worse. He could have killed her.
“Neither do I.” He plopped into the captain’s chair. “I expected to be alone on this ship for the next few weeks. Now I have a—”
“A booty-bot and a hostage,” she spat.
“In order for you to be a hostage, you’d have to hold some value to me,” he stated matter-of-factly. “And you don’t.” He glanced to the bot. “And as for the booty-bot, her skills have yet to be determined.”
“I’m sure she’ll take pleasure in servicing your needs.” She wouldn’t think, couldn’t even contemplate a pirate as anything except a criminal. No matter how good he looked, she’d shoot him—if the gun would fire—and get back to safety.
Shon’s situation looked bleaker with each passing moment. If she didn’t have value to him, would her life mean as little as the men he’d killed stealing the ship? At this point that meant an abrupt exit for her.
“I suppose I’ll stay on the ship, then.” She jammed her hands to her hips, not liking the alternative of being blown out an air lock into space.
“Good choice.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“You made your choice by working for the Tri’Neith and then by boarding my ship. Knowing Captain Javis, I’m sure you had an advantageous arrangement.” His gazed skimmed over her body, making her intimately aware of his interest. “If you’d like to be of service to the new captain, just let me know.”
“I’m sure your booty-bot is sufficient in seeing to your needs.” And if she were lucky, the man would electrocute himself in the bots circuitry.