Hero

by Cheryl Brooks

  "It was the only way I knew how it was supposed to feel to be with a man," Micayla said, "even though it had never actually happened." Scowling, she added, "I always thought it just gave me unrealistic expectations."

  "Not unrealistic at all," Trag said, "at least not for a Zetithian." Taking a deep breath, he went on, "I hate to admit this, but after Kyra came, I liked to imagine it was her--but it must have been you all along."

  "I never had anyone to put in place of you," Micayla said slowly. "Oh, I tried it with Adam, but somehow it just wasn't right." She looked up at him as another wave of tingles rippled over her skin. "What does this mean?"

  Trag smiled wickedly. "It means that one of these days, we'll be in an orchard picking fruit together and I'll nail you under a tree."

  His grin was infectious and Micayla couldn't help but smile back at him. "Well, that gives us something to look forward to, doesn't it?"

  Trag scratched his head. "It certainly does, but I was trying to come up with something to do right now. There aren't any trees here."

  "Trag," she said with a mischievous look, "we don't need trees. You just have to chase me."

  "Ah, well then," he said, his expression brightening, "I guess you'd better start running." He held perfectly still for a split second and then lunged at her.

  With a squeal of laughter, Micayla sprang from her seat and sprinted off down the corridor. She, at least, had explored the ship a bit and knew where she was going, but it really didn't matter. Darting down a passageway at random, she ducked into a small, dark alcove that was stacked full of odds and ends.

  Her heart was pounding as she waited for him to pass by. She could hear his footsteps coming closer and held her breath as he approached. He knew this game as well as she. He would stop following her eventually and she would go looking for him, but he would be waiting for her, ready to pounce.

  This was the feeling she'd always derived from her fantasy--the breathtaking excitement, the hint of danger, the heat of desire in her blood as it coursed through her veins. This was why she'd noticed him in the park; he truly was the man of her dreams--she had seen him, just as Windura had suggested. She should have known, should have remembered and made the connection, but she hadn't--at least, not until now.

  She slipped out of the alcove and headed in the same direction he'd taken but found nothing; there was no sound or movement to indicate where he might be. Her whole body tingled with anticipation. Was he already shadowing her movements? He possessed the same skills as she and didn't have to make a sound unless he chose to. She would have no clue where he was until he grabbed her from behind.

  As she moved silently through the dimly lit vessel, he made his leap at last, seizing her around the waist. She tried to escape, but he held her until her squeals of laughter gave way to sighs. Spinning her around, he kissed her, pulling her tightly against his bare chest. She could feel him purring, could smell the scent of his passion, and could feel his engorged cock pressed against her stomach. His own clothes had already been discarded, and he stripped hers from her as he covered her face with kisses.

  "My lovely Mick," he whispered. "You make me feel things that no other woman can. How did I ever live without you before? How did I even breathe without holding you, kissing you, and giving you joy?"

  She had no reply to offer but knew that the reverse was also true; he made her feel complete--replenished her soul and nourished her spirit in a way that no one else ever had. Sighing, she melted in his arms, breathing in his scent as her teeth sank into his skin. The taste of his blood set her senses ablaze and she pulled him down and licked his nipples and his dripping cock, avoiding his orgasmic fluids until it seemed he could take no more. With a growl, he rolled her onto her back, nipping at her breasts before he thrust into her, his thick shaft buried up to his balls in her soft, wet heat.

  Groaning with pleasure, his eyes blazed with passionate fire as he rocked into her, gently at first, and then harder as she raked his arms with her nails and bared her fangs, hissing at him and urging him on. With a kiss that promised more pleasure to come, he backed off, teasing her with a circular motion of his cock and raking her slick, inner walls with the serrated points of the head. As her orgasms began, Micayla gripped his meat with her tight warmth and Trag's climax began to build. She could feel the change as his thrusts became shorter and more forceful--stretching, reaching, climbing, until at last he gasped and his cock erupted, filling her with long, forceful jets of his creamy snard. She was still drinking in the glow of his eyes as his snard worked its magic on her, spreading the warmth and euphoria throughout her being. His ruffled corona began its slow undulations, prolonging her ecstasy, as well as his own, until, sated at last, she began to purr.

  The light in his eyes softened as he smiled. "So, what about it, Mick? Did I give you joy unlike any you have ever known?"

  Nodding, she reached up to caress his cheek. "Or ever dreamed of."

  Chapter 22

  "You're kidding me, right?" Trag said, scanning the horizon. "I know this is where we were supposed to land, but how far is it to the city?"

  "About three kilometers," Micayla replied. "We couldn't risk setting down too close to civilization."

  "Well, yeah, but this looks worse than the Darconian desert!"

  Micayla leaned over his shoulder for a peek through the view port. The entire landscape was blanketed in soft, virgin snow. Frost glittered on the dormant plants protruding from their winter shrouds and the sky was a crisp, clear aqua. "What's the matter? It's just a little snow."

  "Just a little snow?" Trag echoed. "It must be at least thirty centimeters deep!"

  "Twenty, maybe," she said. "That's nothing. We have a lot more than that back home. Besides, we knew it was going to be winter on Nerik before we came."

  "We did?"

  "Jack said something about it at the meeting--and you said you were okay with it. Plus, it was in Curly's report. Didn't you ever read it?"

  "Well, no, I didn't," Trag admitted. "Been too busy fucking you, talking to you, getting to know you, looking at you..."

  While this was true, all of the above hadn't stopped her from reading it. "You should have. Granted, there wasn't much, but we need to know all we can."

  "Aw, Mick, I never read shit like that."

  "Well, at least I read it," Micayla said. "And we'll be together, so it won't matter." She shook her head, smiling at him warmly. "That's one of the things I like about you, Trag. I have to admire a guy the always flies by the seat of his pants."

  Since Micayla had been into his pants so often on the trip that he'd stopped wearing them, she knew firsthand just how enticing that part of him could be. Great place to bite him too. She paused for a moment, wondering just when her mind had been taken over by sex. She'd never been one to see a sexual reference in anything before, but she saw them everywhere now. Salivating profusely, she wanted to bite his ass so bad it was a wonder she could keep from doing it. Then she realized he was in the perfect position for her to do so. Backing away from him, she took in the view of his firm, biteable butt with his balls hanging enticingly between his legs. The urge to pull his cock back and suck it was overwhelming.

  Now is not the time for that, she told herself firmly. Giving her head a quick shake that set off a brief wave of dizziness, she went on, "We'll bundle you up good and it won't be a problem. We've come prepared--at least I think we have. Jack knew about all of this, so she'll have made sure we've got the right equipment."

  "I hope you're right. I sure as hell don't want to go out in that naked."

  Micayla took another look out the port. "I think it's beautiful. I've always loved snow--especially when you're curled up inside a nice warm blanket with a bowl of my mother's chili."

  "Chili?" Trag echoed. "In a bowl? Is that some kind of soup?"

  "Hot, spicy, rich, wonderful soup," she replied. "You probably wouldn't like it. No fruit in it at all. More like something Hidar would make."

  Trag shuddered.
"A few nights out in that crap and I might decide hot, spicy food is a good thing. Keeps you warm, huh?"

  "Not so much keeps you warm as it warms you up when you've been out in the cold. Hot chocolate is good for that too. I'm not sure if Jack packed any though."

  "There's bound to be some around here somewhere," Trag declared. "Jack sells that stuff all over the quadrant. I guess everyone loves it. Never cared that much for it myself."

  Micayla looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. "You don't like chocolate? What's wrong with you?"

  Trag shrugged. "Nothing. I mean, it's okay, I'm just not that crazy about it." He looked at her questioningly. "Not gonna hold that against me, are you?"

  Micayla grinned and shook her head. "Nope. That just leaves more for me."

  "It's always seemed to me to be more the kind of thing women like, but Leroy can't get enough of it either. Though he mainly uses it to attract women," he reflected. "He gets a load of it from Jack whenever we see her."

  "A hunk like Leroy shouldn't need to ply women with chocolate," Micayla observed. "He's plenty attractive on his own."

  "Yeah, you'd think a guy with two dicks would be pretty confident," Trag agreed. "But he's not nearly as macho as he'd have you believe."

  "I never could stand the macho type," Micayla said with a shudder. "Besides, women don't necessarily want men who are always in control. We like to see a little vulnerability now and then."

  "Nobody's perfect, I guess." With a big grin, he added, "Especially me."

  "In some ways you're not," she admitted, letting her gaze sweep down over his nude body. "But in other ways..."

  "Yeah, and my dick's not even worn out from all the things you've put it through on this trip," Trag said proudly. With a quick pelvic thrust, he demonstrated just how eager it still was. His thick rod bounced as a gush of coronal fluid oozed from the points. "Want to suck it one more time before I get all bundled up?"

  "Don't tempt me," Micayla said, doing her best to avoid staring at it. "We've got to get going if we want to reach the city by nightfall."

  "Aw, come on, Mick," he cajoled. "We might not get another chance for a long time. Besides, you can get me off quicker than any woman I've ever known. It won't take that long."

  Aside from the fact that he was right about the time factor, Micayla truly couldn't resist. With no further prompting, she dropped to her knees and buried her face in his groin. Licking his balls caused even more fluid to come pouring out, and she used it to caress her cheeks with his slick cockhead. Scattering kisses up and down his shaft, she fought the urge to bite it and instead moved to the head and sucked him inside. As always, he was hot, firm, and delicious and she swirled her tongue over his skin, massaging his nuts while he fucked her mouth. His coronal ruffle became a firm ridge as her first orgasm struck and Trag's purring took on a more urgent note. She felt his muscles tense and released him at the last moment, letting his cock spray her face and chest with creamy delight. Her body seemed to implode and she cried out in ecstasy as her head fell back. Trag used his cock to caress her skin once more, and the slick heat on her face and nipples soon had her moaning with exquisite pleasure. It took her a few moments to recover enough to open her eyes, and her first sight was of Trag's fabulous cock, and beyond that, his killer smile.

  "See, I told you it wouldn't take long."

  Kissing his cock, she licked the last spurt of his snard from the head, savoring the sweet euphoria it brought her.

  "Maybe so, but now I feel like I need a nap."

  "Hey, I got no problem with lying down for a while," he purred. "We could stay here another night if you want. You need to tap into the local com system anyway."

  "Roslyn couldn't get much of the local stuff from space," she admitted. "Said there was too much atmospheric interference or something." Micayla took a deep breath and stood up, again feeling slightly dizzy. Trag had that effect on her, though--no matter where or when they made love, he took her breath away and made her head spin. "So far, all we know is that Grekkor landed at the spaceport at Rechred, which doesn't give us much to go on. He could be in the city or have gone somewhere else after he landed. I'll run some manual scans and see what I can turn up."

  "You do that," he urged her. "I'll check on our survival gear."

  ***

  Trag went down to the cargo hold to see what was there. So far, he and Micayla hadn't done much in the way of preparations for their mission, mainly because Mick was just too damned sexy to allow Trag to think of anything else. She was endlessly fascinating and he had an idea that if the food supplies had held out, they could have kept right on flying through space forever. The Terran mates of his friends frequently mentioned feeling as though they were addicted to their men, but Trag suspected that the reverse was true in his case. He was rapidly becoming hooked on Micayla and was beginning to see his feelings toward Kyra as the result of wanting something he knew he couldn't have--not true love at all. He was pretty sure Mick would stay with him now, but though he'd done his best to keep her happy, she'd never said she loved him. Not in the heat of passion, or in the quiet laetralance that followed. He had an idea that she might be waiting for him to say it first, but he wasn't sure how she would react. She might like the idea--or she might not--but Mick had never been in love before, and saying I love you wouldn't come easily to her.

  Exploring the cargo hold was a revelation in Nerik secrecy. Veluka must have locked down a lot of the compartments because there was only one Trag could access, which fortunately was the one he needed. He really hated the idea of asking Roslyn for assistance.

  Jack had outdone herself. The compartment was stuffed with cold-weather gear of all kinds. There were heated boots, medical kits, marching rations that warmed up automatically when opened, weapons of every kind, and tracking devices. There was also an abundant supply of hot chocolate and, last but not least, a book titled The Flora, Fauna, and Seasons of Nerik.

  "Too bad we didn't see this sooner," Trag muttered to himself. "No time for it now." He stashed it in the breast pocket of one of the parkas and gathered up all he could carry.

  Time was one thing that Trag wished they'd had more of. The three weeks had passed all too quickly and Trag's initial fear that he'd only get sex from Micayla once in a while had evaporated. So far, she hadn't turned him down and had even been the initiator a few times. Trag wasn't tired of it either. He thought he might be after fifty years or so, but certainly not before then.

  He wanted her to be his mate. But how to ask her was the dilemma. Being fuck buddies was close but not quite the same. He was falling for her to the point that if she left him now, he wasn't sure his mind could take it. Even now, when he'd only been apart from her for a short time, he was already feeling the loss. Trag didn't have to have his cock inside her to feel complete either. She only had to be within his reach where he could see her, hear her breathing, listen to her voice, taste her sweetness...

  He had never felt this strongly toward Kyra--though he'd only been intimate with her once, and Ty had been there too. Infatuation--or a lack of options--was more likely the cause for his continued feelings toward his brother's wife, but this thing with Micayla was different. Completely different. He cared about Kyra, but Micayla brought out protective instincts he'd never felt before. He was very reluctant to let her leave the safety of the ship, let alone go blindly forth into a snow-covered world in search of the nemesis of the entire Zetithian race. Even before that, he found himself trying to take care of her--make sure she was comfortable, happy, and such--something he couldn't recall doing with Kyra, though he was quite certain his brother had. He'd also seen it with Cat and Jack. Sure, Jack was tough and highly self-sufficient, but Cat still looked after her, though in a very subtle way. It wasn't always something brave or heroic--unless, of course, such behavior was called for. It was the little things. Touching her, rubbing her shoulders, getting her anything he thought she might need or want. Trag knew he was doing the same thing with Mick n
ow. She fussed at him at first, saying he was spoiling her, but after a while, she'd stopped mentioning it. Trag took it upon himself to see that she got regular meals, kept her warm, kept her company, and kept her sated. It was a pleasure for him to do these things, not a chore or a duty he felt he had to perform--more of a privilege, actually--particularly given the nature of their first encounter. Things had definitely taken a turn for the better.

  Heading back up to the bridge, he found Micayla in the closest thing to a state of panic he'd ever seen her in. She was sitting at the comstation, anxiously tapping the console, muttering to herself.

  Dumping the gear he was carrying in the middle of the floor, he eyed her curiously, half expecting her to start tearing her hair out. "What's up, Mick?"

  "Not much," she replied, "which is a major problem. Did anything break when we landed?"

  "Not that I'm aware of. You felt it. It was very soft."

  "Well, now that we're here, nothing much seems to be working--nothing important, anyway. Oh, life support, lights, power--those sorts of things all work, but not much else. Have you talked to Roslyn since we landed?"

  "I talk to Roslyn as little as possible," Trag said bluntly. "Is she pouting again?"

  Micayla shook her head. "I don't think so. I can't get her to answer me, which makes me think she's either been damaged or is being jammed. The scanners don't work either, nor does the regular com system."

  "I guess that means we're out of touch with Jack too, doesn't it?"

  "Yeah--unless she comes close enough for the comstones to work. They only function over a kilometer or so. Is there anything in the hold we could use?"

  "Maybe," he said. "There's a ton of stuff down there. I didn't go through it all." He stopped for a moment. "So you think someone's jamming us, huh?"

  "It sure seems like it, but to jam us, they'd have to know we were here, wouldn't they? We've been cloaked the whole time and we haven't exactly announced to anyone that we're on our way to nab Grekkor. Aside from that, how could anyone know that it's you and me flying this ship instead of Veluka?"