The second sun had set when she signaled for them to dismount. The third sun’s dimmer radiance failed to penetrate the deep shadows around them. Down to a routine now, they quietly hobbled their horses and followed Hope in the slow, arduous process of creeping closer to yet another location big enough and accessible enough from the air to hide a ship. Nimble as an Old Earth goat, Hope mounted a sharp incline.
Stev and Tarik checked the straps on the packs they wore and joined her.
Halfway up, Stev reached for a new fingerhold and grimaced as a sharp rock sliced into his palm. Blood welled sluggishly from the wound. He pressed it against his pant leg to stop the worst of the bleeding. Stoically, he ignored the pain and made sure to solidly anchor his boot in yet another barely discernable notch before moving his hand to another anchor point. Ahead, Hope limberly scaled the slope, her fingers and toes effortlessly finding even the faintest grooves and lips while he had to squint and pray. A faint scuffle behind him and a ’pathed curse told him Rik wasn’t having any easier a time of it, which was at least some comfort. Hope pulled a few feet farther ahead. He wanted to call her back, tell her to wait for them, but couldn’t risk the sound of his voice carrying. And while she could evidently hear Stev and Tarik ’path when they made love, she gave no sign of being able to now.
When she stopped at the crest of the ridge, eyes fastened on something he couldn’t yet see, he knew their search was over. Hope looked back. Her face glowed with triumph. If he didn’t already think his mate beyond lovely, that look would have convinced him.
Hope was right about the canyons’ shielding power. There hadn’t been so much as a peep of warning from Tarik’s wristcomp.
Stev tried to hurry and forced himself to slow down when his boot slipped, sending a hail of gravel down on Tarik’s head.
Finally, the three of them were positioned along the ridge.
“Yes!” Tarik ’pathed, giving their bondmate a pleased wink. “Our girl got those bastards.”
“She did.” Stev took a small mag-viewer out of a pocket in his pack and surveyed the rugged camp below. Tarik did the same. The Blackjack had been set down with some skill under a wide ledge. It had undergone some slight modifications, and almost certainly some not-so-obvious ones, to hide its identity. It bore different call letters, and some superficial changes to its hull would make it pass for a different ship entirely at first glance. Unless someone was looking for the Blackjack, that is. Stev and Tarik would recognize it anywhere.
Basic camouflage netting concealed it from surveillance satellites as well as human eyes. A portable table had been set up under one wing. Four men—Stev recognized them as identified members of the Rogan Gang—sat around it, apparently playing cards in utter silence. The entire area seemed blurred, as if seen through an opaque curtain.
He handed Hope his mag-viewer so she could have a look and ’pathed Tarik. “Sound shield?”
“Best guess,” his bond-brother agreed. “That would cut down on any noise that might give away their position but let air through.” Tarik lifted his wristcomp and used it to scan the ship and the immediate area. Consulting the device, he pointed to a number of barely visible brown discs set on the ground in a rough semicircle around the Blackjack. “Transmitters. There are some on the overhang, too, but I can’t see them from here.”
“Can they hear us, do you think?”
Tarik thought before answering. “Not likely. The shield should work both ways. But they might have set up some other kind of detection system out here or have someone on lookout.”
Stev looked at the nearby rocks and ledges but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Thinking Hope might be more knowledgeable about what belonged and what didn’t, he gestured for her to do the same. Her eyes paused where his hadn’t. Finally, she indicated she didn’t think any guards had been posted. She handed over his mag-viewer, and he trained it on the camp.
Just then a fifth man walked down the ramp from the ship. Stev felt his fingers tighten on the mag-viewer’s plastic casing. Rogan. The gang leader sauntered to the table. Stev couldn’t make out the expressions on the poker players' faces, but their body language was tense. Rogan threw his head back in a soundless laugh, slapped one of the men on the shoulder and turned away.
Stev, Tarik, and Hope immediately crouched out of sight. It was unlikely Rogan would spot them at this distance and through his own shield. With a man as ruthless as this, Stev wasn’t willing to take chances. He was amused to note that both he and Rik grabbed Hope to urge her down if she needed it. He should have known they wouldn’t have to. Their bondmate was no one’s fool.
Cautiously, he eased forward until he could again see the camp. Rogan moved away from the others and was consulting his own wristcomp. He cast a baleful eye at the sky, as if unhappy with whatever information he received and looking for answers. He consulted his wristcomp for a few more minutes before going back inside the Blackjack.
Stev looked at Tarik. “Ten credits says I’m good for eight for eight.”
Tarik’s teeth flashed. “You’re on.”
Hope steadied him as he wrangled his bag around and pulled out the plas-gun he’d assembled at the campsite. Stev used a convenient notch in the ridge to balance the barrel and took aim. The tapping of Tarik’s fingertips on his wristcomp was barely audible. Though the air around them cooled with the coming night, Stev felt a trickle of sweat track down his spine. Staring down the sights, he waited.
“Nanobots active,” Tarik ’pathed. “Hope you have those ten credits on you, my brother.”
“In your dreams.” Stev squeezed the trigger. The gun gave a barely discernable recoil. Something flashed through the shield, the tiny flare gone in a fraction of a second. Through the gun sight, Stev saw a small blob of gel spatter against the Blackjack’s hull. He waited just long enough to be sure none of the card players noticed. From experience, he knew the gel charge sounded no louder than a juicy bug hitting a windscreen, if that. Satisfied they wouldn’t raise an alarm, he pulled the trigger seven more times in quick succession, adjusting his aim slightly with each shot to evenly space the gel charges along the visible hull. By the time he finished, the first blob was gone, the chemical carrier evaporated. The nanobots would have drilled a tiny hole in the hull and disappeared inside to begin infiltrating the Blackjack’s every system.
“So, how much do you owe me now?” he asked Tarik.
“No more than you owe me.”
“Right. Let’s get out of here.”
Stev efficiently stowed the plas-gun and nudged Hope’s shoulder, tipping his chin down to indicate she should begin her descent. In short order, they returned to their horses and led them away as fast as they dared before mounting to continue their retreat. Making noise now would be the same as never finding the Blackjack at all—total failure—with the added fillip of putting Hope at Rogan’s mercy.
* * * *
Hope felt the zusha swirl in her belly when Stev and Tarik touched her shoulders to urge her down and out of view of the gang’s camp. It swirled faster when Stev took aim with the plas-gun and her eyes honed in on his starkly handsome profile. It wasn’t as bad as it had been. She could control it. Or so she told herself. Now, leading Stev and Tarik away as the third sun set and true darkness settled over the canyon, she realized she’d been lying to herself.
Hope pulled gently on her horse’s reins. Obediently, it stopped. The men’s horses continued for a few paces before Tarik noticed she wasn’t with them. They guided their horses back to join her.
Stev leaned close, concern evident in his expression even in the soft glimmer of starlight. “Hope,” he said, his voice a bare whisper. “What is it?”
Hope made a face, reluctant to admit her need. “I have to stop,” she said, her voice as soft as his. His nostrils flared slightly, and his eyes gained a recognizable heat, telling her she didn’t have to explain.
“Is there somewhere safe nearby we can stay the night?” Tarik asked.
Hope nodded. “A cave. Big enough for us and the horses.”
“Okay.” Stev’s hand caught her chin, and he touched her lips in a soft kiss. “Please don’t be upset, Hope. This isn’t a sign of weakness.” Tarik stroked her back, and she felt comforted.
Which was odd, considering her loss of control was all their fault. She couldn’t quite muster true outrage, though. Nudging her horse with her knees, she got the animal moving.
Fortunately, the cave wasn’t far. They reached it in less than fifteen minutes. Hope was grateful. The sublime twist in her belly moved from warning to the edge of demanding.
She dismounted and led her horse into the tunnel, clicking on her handlight once she was certain it couldn’t be seen by anyone outside. The light fell on what appeared to be a dead end about twenty paces ahead. Hope continued to the lead the way to the wall and turned, urging her horse into the narrow passage that was invisible from the entrance. From there, the passage opened into a yawning cavern.
The beam of Hope’s handlight sparkled in a million pinpoints set in the walls and ceiling, and it seemed like they were in the midst of a vast starfield.
“What is it?” Tarik asked.
“Diamond chips,” she said. “Too small to be worth mining. It looks pretty enough, though, and there are some intriguing rock formations down a side tunnel that eventually lets out into an underground river. I plan to bring tourists here for campouts.” She gestured at the boxes of stacked supplies in a depression along the wall. Hope took the reins of all three horses and secured them in another nook where packaged feed had been stored beside a water trough.
Working in silent concert, Stev and Hope took the gear off the horses, fed and watered them, and settled them in for the night. Tarik ferried their bags to the cleared area Hope indicated and arranged their sleeping bags. Hope didn’t say anything when he again used all three of their sleeping bags to prepare a single pallet. How could she? It was why they were here.
Taking into consideration the enclosed space, Hope forewent a traditional fire for the portable stove. It shed both light and heat. Tarik assembled a hasty meal, but Hope couldn’t eat. It was getting hard to breathe. She sat on the pallet, sipped a cup of cold water, and tried not to imagine the men naked.
They worked so seamlessly together it was easy to forget they had an edge. Where other men had to talk, to plan out loud, Stev and Tarik knew each other’s thoughts. It was evident in the way they made love, each anticipating the other’s moves, complementing them. Hope took another cooling sip of water.
Abruptly, Stev stood up. Eyes never leaving Hope’s, his fingers went to the buttons on his shirt. He popped one through the tiny hole. The blue cotton shirt spread a fraction of an inch, revealing a slice of golden, hair dappled chest. His fingers slid down to release another button.
“By the pit, brother, I’m not going to let you have all the fun.” Tarik, a glint of challenge in his eyes, stood to begin his own striptease.
Hope was mesmerized. Totally unselfconscious, they seduced her with their animal grace. Her eyes noted every ripple of muscle, the lighter hue of skin normally covered by clothes, the intimate patterns their body hair formed on their flesh. Her fingers tingled with the urge to touch, to caress.
At last, they stood naked before her, rampant cocks eager to give their mate what she needed most. Them.
Chapter 9
Stev and Tarik stood in front of Hope and waited. Unhesitatingly, she reached for them. Stev’s head fell back as her hand wrapped around his throbbing length. A husky rumble rolled up from Tarik’s chest as his eyes fixed on her hand fisting his cock. Hope felt the vitality pulsing through them as she stroked their shafts, noting their differences, their similarities. Both had velvety skin. Hope luxuriated in the long, slow glide of her palms on their cocks, from the thick bases she could barely get her hands around, to the dip near the bulbs at their tips. She ringed the heads of their cocks, and Stev shuddered. Noticing a glistening jewel forming on his slit, she bent her head to catch it with her tongue.
“Yes, shalla,” he gritted out. Or maybe she only heard him in her head. She didn’t care.
Not wanting Tarik to feel slighted, she dipped her head. Taking just the tip of him inside her mouth, she sucked lightly, teasingly. He moaned.
Hope shifted on the pallet. The movement reminded her she was fully clothed, while Stev and Tarik were bare and at her mercy. She let Tarik’s cock slide out of her mouth and glided her tongue along the length of Stev’s. Instead of stopping, she continued lower. The skin of his scrotum was even softer than that which covered his penis. Hope inhaled deeply, loving the masculine musk filling her senses. Then she softly sucked his scrotum until she captured one hard sphere in her mouth. Stev gave a little cry, and his hips flexed.
She sensed he only stopped moving by will alone. Smiling, she turned hungry eyes on Tarik’s heavy balls. Before she could touch him, though, her hands were trapped, stopped.
“As much as we love what you’re doing, shalla, have mercy,” Stev said.
They knelt beside her and set about peeling her clothes away. With the two of them working together, it didn’t take long. Tarik, hands on the hem of her shirt, caught her lips with his. His tongue darted into her mouth, thrusting and demanding. Hope kissed him just as eagerly.
Stev tugged on first one boot, then the other, tossing them both aside. Tarik came back to himself long enough to divest her of shirt and bra. Then he unfastened her pants and yanked down the zipper. His hands slid over her ass, moving aside pants and panties until Stev pulled them both off and away with her socks.
Impatient for his turn at her lips, Stev crawled up her body. Hope spread her legs in welcome, and he settled into the vee of her thighs, his penis a shaft of hot iron against her mound. Stev licked her lips, teasing her into following him. Impatient, she grabbed two fistfuls of his hair. Holding him exactly where she wanted him, she took his mouth. One arm scooped around her back, and his fingers sank into her ass. When he rolled to his back, she went with him.
Strong hands glided down her sides, and warmth blanketed her back. Hard thighs bracketed hers on either side of Stev’s. Tarik nipped her shoulder. Hope tossed her head and pressed against him, rubbing her body along his chest and ridged stomach. The motion also rocked her along Stev’s cock. Trapping her hips, he steadied her long enough to position her over his cock. Hope braced her hands on his shoulders, arched her back and took him inside in one long, slow slide. She didn’t stop until her pussy met the wiry curls at the base of his sex. He urged her to ride him. As she moved, Tarik palmed her breasts, fingers plucking at her distended nipples. He freed one hand to glide it down her side and around her waist. Talented fingers followed the cleft of her ass to the hidden rosebud. With none of the cautious hesitation either man had shown before, he pressed his thumb into her. And held it there. Hope did all the work. Plunging down on Stev’s steely cock also plunged her ass over Tarik’s thumb. It wasn’t enough.
“Tarik,” she gasped. “I need…I need …”
“Yes?” Thumb trapped in her tight rear passage, she felt his fingers trace the stretched flesh surrounding his bond-brother’s cock.
Hope gasped and pumped herself over them, Stev’s cock and Tarik’s thumb. Stev leaned up to suck her nipple into his mouth while Tarik’s free hand continued to play with the other one.
Tarik nipped the cord of muscle in her neck. “What do you need, shalla?” he asked, his voice dark with promises. “Tell us, and it’s yours.”
“Tarik, please, I need your…your cock in my ass. Oh, God. I can’t believe I just said that.”
Stev pulled her down until her chest pressed tightly against his, tipping her ass into the air. “Say anything, shalla. Do anything. We are yours.”
Tarik ran the head of his cock along the cleft of her ass. She felt the trail of moisture it left in its path. Resting the blunt head against her rosebud, he began to push forward. Hope stiffened, breath caught in her throat. He kept coming. Stev
murmured words of praise she didn’t hear, all her attention focused on Tarik.
This was no shallow taking like Stev’s last night. This was a claiming.
Tarik stopped, pulled back. A sharp thrust drove him further inside, the flared head rubbing along her sensitive inner tissue. Backing out, he thrust again. Out, and back again. This time, his hips slapped against her ass.
“Okay?” he asked tightly.
Instead of answering, she ignored Stev’s cautioning hold on her hips and drove herself down against them both. The sensation was exquisite. She had to do it again.
That was all the response they needed. Planting his hands and knees in the pallet, Tarik drove into Hope, the force of his thrust pushing her along his bond-brother’s cock. Stev responded with a short jab of his hips that clenched the muscles in his abdomen and put pressure on her clit.
The three of them quickly found a rhythm that gave them all maximum pleasure. Hope writhed with abandon, knowing her mates would do nothing less than pleasure her into oblivion. She reveled as their thoughts seeped into her mind, snatches of images and impressions more than words. She was beyond caring whether zusha or simple lust drove her now. It didn’t matter. Her whole body felt primed for release. Tarik’s hips slapped against her as he pistoned his cock into her ass, each forward motion tearing a grunt from him. Stev thrust in perfect counterpoint, hands locked around her knees. He was the first to go. Pressing his head back into the pallet, he arched up and shouted her name. Hope felt his cock jerk and throb as he shot his cum deep inside her. The violence of his release triggered her own. The orgasm exploded through her, and Hope screamed. Almost instantly, Tarik’s growling cry echoed in the chamber. His fingers dug into her hips as his cock pulsed in her ass. Impossibly, Hope fell into a second, longer orgasm.
Marshals' Most Wanted Page 6
