by Susan Hayes
It took her far too long to form her next words. “It’s on the menu as ‘Almost Heaven,’ and it’s tonight’s special.” Then she looked at Striker and smiled, hoping like hell she wasn’t about to put her foot in her mouth. “Unlike these two, I’m interested in doing a direct comparison anytime you are.”
Before either of them could say anything else, the lights dimmed and a moment later the small stage was illuminated by a spotlight drone hovering overhead. A tall, gold-skinned Vardarian walked into the light carrying something similar to a guitar. Kade walked with confidence and settled himself in the spotlight with all the poise of a professional entertainer. He strummed the instrument several times, making small adjustments.
From somewhere in the darkness, a woman’s voice called out. “You already tuned your saryk at home, my mahoyen. We want to hear you sing!”
There was a ripple of laughter from the crowd at Shadow’s teasing words.
“Hush, my dyna. I’m getting there,” Kade replied, turning to look in the direction of his mate.
Maggie didn’t need to see her to know who he was looking at. His adoring expression made it very clear. While Kade finished warming up, she took a few more bites of her dinner and then turned her chair around so she could watch the performance while still being able to reach her food. Her break would end before the concert did, and she wouldn’t get a chance to eat again until her shift ended.
The new position meant she was closer to Striker. So close their legs were touching. It was like they were connected by an invisible power cord and even the smallest movement generated a fresh wave of sparks.
Kade was good. The song was in Vardarian, but it didn’t matter. The music carried her away despite the fact she could only understand a few words. As the first song ended, Striker reached back and retrieved their dessert. He moved it between them, balancing the bowl in one large hand with his knuckles resting on her thigh as he offered her a spoon.
She flashed him a smile. “Thank you.”
The next two songs were just as entertaining. At least, she thought they were. It was hard to be sure if the music or the moment made her feel so happy. Here she was on a new planet, at her new job, surrounded by kind beings and sharing chocolate with a sexy cyborg who made her heart race and starred in every erotic fantasy she’d had since the day they’d met. This was the best day of her life. The only thing that would have made it better is if Jade were here, too.
They finished the dessert as the next song ended, and Kade announced he’d be taking a pause before coming back for another set. Her comm buzzed in her pocket, announcing that her break was about to end.
“I need to get back to work,” she murmured.
“I’m staying to walk you home,” Striker informed her.
She pretended he’d given her a choice. “I’d like that. It’s sweet of you to offer.”
She gathered up their empty plates and stacked them back on the tray. “I’ll send some fresh drinks over, too. Wreckage and Ruin, a pleasure to meet you both.”
“Same.”
“Yeah.”
The lights were still dimmed, but she’d spent years working in semi-darkness. She lifted the tray and then bent down to brush a quick kiss to Striker’s cheek. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yes, you will.” And damned if his low, gravelly voice didn’t have her blushing as she walked away, adding an extra sway to her hips as she went. She was so distracted with thoughts of Striker she forgot to be on guard for wandering hands, and the pinch to her ass was hard enough to make her yelp in surprise.
Before she could do more than swat at the offender’s hand, she heard an enraged bellow and something large, heavy, and very pissed came thundering up behind her.
Being in the middle of a bar fight was never a good thing, but she’d been here before and knew what to do. She dropped the tray onto the nearest table and then dove underneath it, scrambling past customers’ legs and out the other side.
By the time she was back on her feet, the fight was over.
Striker had another cyborg down on his knees, head bowed, body painfully arched to try to take some of the pressure off the arm Striker held in one vicious grip. He was snarling at the other cyborg, teeth bared and his face a mask of fury. “She’s mine.”
“Sorry, Striker. I… I didn’t know.”
“Doesn’t matter. You don’t touch what isn’t yours. You know this. We’re not humans. We’re better than them!”
“Yes.”
Now she could see why Skye had warned her about Striker. Skye had seen this side of him back on Reamus. Of course she’d be worried.
Maggie wasn’t.
“Let him go, Striker. You made your point.”
His head snapped up. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. He surprised me. Now, let him go. You can’t start roughing up the other customers just because you don’t like what they’re doing.”
“He touched you!”
She walked around the table and set her hand on his arm. “And I was handling it. That’s part of the job.”
“I don’t like your job.”
“Tough. I do. You don’t own me, Striker. One make-out session doesn’t even give you the right to comment on my shoes, never mind interfere with my job.”
His gaze dropped to her legs. “I like the boots. Your skirt is too short.”
The lights all came on, leaving everyone blinking. When her vision returned, Anya was standing nearby with a pulse rifle in her hands. “Maggie, are you okay? Do we have a problem?”
“I’m fine. It’s fine. One of these fellows pinched my ass and the other has a bad case of over-protective-itis.”
“Thrash, is that true? Did you pinch Maggie?”
“Yeah.” Thrash said, looking sheepish.
Anya sighed. “You going to do it again?”
“Fraxx, no.”
“Good. Then I don’t need to shoot you.” She raised her voice to a shout that carried across the tavern. “No one touches my staff. You want to fight each other, fine. But take it outside. If you don’t, I will shoot you. Striker, you can let him go now.”
Striker nodded and released the man’s arm.
“Thank you.” Anya looked at him thoughtfully. “You want to make sure no one bothers Maggie again?”
Striker nodded.
“Great. You’re on the payroll. Your job is to make sure everyone remembers their manners. Sound good?”
“Yes.”
Maggie stormed over to Striker. “Oh hell no. This is not happening. You’re going to say no.”
He shook his head.
“Anya? You’re really going to do this?”
The older woman shrugged. “Sorry, hon. I’ve needed a bouncer longer than I’ve needed a bartender. Your man said all the right things, and he controlled the situation without doing any damage.”
Her man? Seeing she wasn’t going to get any help from that quarter, Maggie turned back to Striker. “You can’t stroll in and take over my life.”
“I’m not taking over. I’m protecting you.”
“That’s not your job.”
“It is. I’m your protector.”
“Since when?” she demanded.
“Since before we met. I have always protected you, Maggie.”
His words filled her stomach with giant, mutant butterflies. It was true. He’d kept her safe in the woods. Saved her life, probably more than once.
“I think I liked it better when you didn’t talk so much,” she muttered.
He grinned and held out his hand.
She was tempted to ignore it, but that wasn’t what she wanted to do. Not really. She slipped her hand into his, and he pulled her into his arms, kissing her hard on the mouth before picking her up and putting her over his shoulder.
“I will be back tomorrow to discuss hours and pay. Maggie and I are taking the rest of the night off. You can pay her out of my wages for the lost hours.”
“What? No! Put me down! Dammit, S
triker. I have to get back to work.”
He slapped a hand on her ass hard enough to sting. “Stop squirming.”
“Jerk!”
“Mags?” Anya asked, the single word loaded with meaning. If Maggie didn’t want this, all she had to do was say so, and Anya would take care of it.
Maggie raised her head, which wasn’t easy in her current position, and managed to catch Anya’s eye. “I’m fine. He might not be. I’m really sorry about this.”
Her boss relaxed but then nodded. “Don’t be.” She paused and then smirked before adding. “Just remember what Saral said. Make sure you get at least two!”
Maggie blushed and dropped her head without saying another word. She had no idea where they were going or what was going to happen next, but she couldn’t help but hope her friends were right and orgasms were coming her way… soon.
9
This night had not gone the way he’d expected. He’d come because someone needed to watch out for Maggie and she didn’t have anyone else. Now, he had a job he hadn’t been looking for and every intention of taking her back to his place to prove once and for all that he was better than any dessert in existence.
It was time to accept reality. This had never been about protecting Maggie for the sake of the colony, or herself. He’d done it because he wanted to. Because he wanted her. A human. It was hard to believe, but it was happening.
“Are you going to put me down anytime soon? I don’t know where the hell we’re going, and I’m not really enjoying being upside-down after eating all that food.”
“My place.” His throat was raw from all the talking he’d done, so he deactivated his pain receptors. He needed to be able to communicate.
He waited for her response, not sure if she’d protest. If she did, he’d respect her choice. He really hoped she didn’t.
“Okay. But if we’re going to be traipsing through the woods, I’m going to need to change first. Plus, my jacket is still at the bar.”
Her jacket. Fraxx.
His medi-bots helped regulate his body temperature, so he’d forgotten how cold it was outside. With no coat and that short skirt…
He set her down gently and then unbuttoned his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re cold. I’m not.” He stripped off the shirt and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was so large on her that it covered more of her legs than the skirt did. Now he was the only one who could see her legs, he regretted the need to hide them, but it would take a few minutes to reach his home and she needed to stay warm.
He expected her to button up, but instead she walked up to him and placed both hands on his bare chest.
Her fingers were cool, but her touch was like flames on his skin. “You are… wow.”
“So are you.” He covered one of her hands with his and wrapped the other around her back, pulling her in snugly against him. She raised her head and uttered a soft gasp as their bodies met. He leaned down and kissed her, claiming her mouth with his and letting the taste of her brand itself on his senses.
When she moaned, he felt it as much as heard it, a buzz against his lips and tongue that was sweeter than any music.
Hunger tore through him, awakening base needs he’d tried to bury and ignore. Every cell in his body burned with desire for the woman in his arms. “Will you come home with me?” His voice was so raw and rough with need he wasn’t sure she’d understand him. He swallowed hard and was about to try again when she rose up on her toes and pressed a finger to his lips.
“Yes. I’ll go home with you.”
He scooped her into his arms and set off at a jog toward the artists’ quarter. His home was there, on the outermost edge of the colony.
“Um. I know I got lost already today, but isn’t your home in the other direction?” She pointed back toward the bridge.
“Cabin that way. Home this way.”
She shivered, and he broke into a run. He had to get her inside before she got any colder.
“You have a home in town?”
“Yes.” Everyone did. It was how Haven worked. Every citizen had all they needed to live. Housing, food, and the basic comforts of life were available to every citizen.
She poked him in the shoulder with surprising force. “You jerk! I thought you lived in the woods.”
“I do. Sometimes.”
“Sometimes. But the rest of the time you have running water, electricity, and I bet you even have a food dispenser.”
“Yes.”
“And I made you cookies!” there was no missing the upset in her tone.
He reached the gate to his small front yard and popped it open with one hip. “Why are you unhappy?”
“Because I thought I was giving you something special. Something you couldn’t make for yourself at the touch of a button.”
“You did.”
“How?” her face was pressed into his shoulder now, hiding her expression.
He didn’t answer right away. He wanted to get inside before he explained. He reached out and connected to his home’s systems, switching on the lights and opening the door as he came up the walk.
Once they were inside with the door closed, he set her gently down in front of him. “Look at me.”
She raised her head, his heart twisting when he saw her tear-filled eyes.
He was tempted to speak to her through his home’s speakers, but this was too important. “No one has ever given me a gift before. Not once. And you made those cookies yourself. With your own hands. It was…” He touched a finger to her cheek. “I will never forget my first gift.”
“Oh.” She exhaled softly and then turned her head to nuzzle his hand. “Good. That’s good. Not that you’ve never had a gift before, but that it was special. I wanted it to be.” Maggie took his hand in hers and then took a look around.
“If this is where you live, why is there more furniture in your cabin?” She gestured to the mostly empty rooms with her free hand, a look of stunned bewilderment on her face.
“I have all I need.” And he did. A table with two chairs. A deep pile of cushions mounded up on the floor and covered in a handwoven blanket he’d picked up from a weaver who lived just down the way. It had all the colors of the forest in it—greens and browns with hints of gold here and there. He could watch holo-vids and other broadcasts from there if he was so inclined.
Dishes were stacked in the cupboards with linens and towels in the closet. Not to mention a separate bedroom housed a bed so large he could stretch out comfortably for the first time in his life. Even his showers were indulgent. Plenty of hot water, and he’d bought some handmade soaps and shampoo from another neighbor. He liked the way they smelled, like spring mornings and the forest after it rained.
As far as he was concerned, he lived in a palace with more space than he needed and comforts he couldn’t have imagined during his years of captivity.
“Maybe.” Maggie’s fingers tightened around his. “But it’s not all you deserve. You’re free now. You can have more than this.”
He chuckled at the irony of her words. She had less than this and had spent weeks scavenging for used and imperfect items she could stash away in case she needed them when she could have simply requisitioned new ones.
“Right now, I have everything I want.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail, which made it easy to wrap the strands around his hand. When he tugged her head back, she moaned and her eyes fluttered closed. He could sense her arousal, the way her pulse raced and her body temperature rose as he took control.
He hummed in approval and set his hand, still holding hers, on her waist. His need was a physical ache now, an all-consuming fire that had been left untended for too long. He glanced down the hall to his room.
Too far away.
His gaze landed on the mound of cushions in the living room. Perfect.
She moved in a slow, sinuous dance, grinding their bodies together as his tongue ta
ngled with hers.
He walked them both backward, guiding her with his hands and body. She moved willingly, responding to his touch with absolute trust, her eyes still closed as her breath mingled with his.
Fire streaked through him. She’d surrendered to him, trusted him to take care of her. At one time he’d been certain he’d never want that responsibility again. He’d been wrong. If that was the price for having Maggie in his arms, he’d pay it—at least for tonight.
When they reached the pile of pillows, he stopped walking and started to strip her out of her clothes. He wanted to tear them off of her, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate it. Like him, she valued what little she had.
She started undressing him, too, undoing the belt at his waist and dropping it at their feet. It would have been faster if they’d focused on themselves instead of each other, but he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. He reclaimed his shirt and then removed hers. The more skin he revealed, the harder he got until his cock was throbbing in time to his heartbeat. She undid his pants and slipped her fingers around his thick shaft, tearing a groan from his chest as she cooed in delight.
“So, the rumors are true…” she murmured.
“Only rumors, though?” The thought that she’d done this with another cyborg crashed through his head like an enraged beast.
She tightened her grip on him and looked up, hazel eyes bright with need. “You’re the first man I’ve been with in a long time, Striker.”
“Good.”
A flash of wariness darkened her eyes and she let go of him, leaning back. “And you? How many females have you been with since you came here? Is that something else you haven’t told me? Like this house? Do you have a girlfriend?”
He curled his lip back in a snarl. “No girlfriend. No females. Not for months. I was happy alone.”
“Good,” she threw his one-word response back at him.
Her skirt hit the ground, and he forgot to breathe. She was wearing a tiny scrap of black lace that barely covered her pussy. She might as well have been naked under her skirt. Veth. If he’d known…
“You like?” She flashed him a brazen grin and bent down to release the fitting on her boots. “I was wearing those during our training session today, too.”
