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VirtuallyYours

Page 2

by Caroline McCall


  Pete closed the door firmly behind her and wandered out to the balcony, taking several deep breaths of tangy sea air. Home was usually an untidy space. Somewhere he could work on the projects he didn’t have time for while he was running a starship. Home wasn’t sleeping on a couch while a beautiful woman lay alone in his bed. The spare room was a mess and he had no idea where the bed stuff was. He grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and settled down to read the latest tech journals. There was no way he could sleep while she was lying in the next room. Even with a wall between them, Blondie was driving him crazy. It was going to be a long night.

  * * * * *

  Pete’s eyes flew open. He must have dozed off, but now he was wide awake. Blondie was straddling his lap, gloriously naked. His hands reached out involuntarily, cupping her hips, drawing her against him. He definitely wasn’t dreaming. “Guess,” he made a halfhearted protest. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  Blondie pressed her lips against his, silencing him. Her tongue explored his mouth lazily and he groaned when she pulled away. Her gray eyes regarded him playfully. “I think we have a communications problem. Your mouth says one thing, but your body says something else.”

  To emphasize her point, she rocked her hips against his burgeoning erection. “Now, which one do you think I should believe?”

  Blondie raised herself up until her breasts were level with his face. He was lost. His mouth latched onto one dusky-pink nipple and he suckled greedily. He caught a faint hit of perfume, fresh flowers and crushed green leaves. Her throaty moans spurred him on and his hands left her hips, stroking along her smooth flesh until he found her other breast, pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His cock strained against his pants and he thrust upward, rubbing himself against her.

  Her hands fumbled at the fastening of his pants and she stroked his cock. Pete groaned with mindless pleasure until he remembered protection. Did he have any? It was so long since he’d brought a woman home with him. As if she had read his mind, Blondie reached over to the arm of the couch and picked up a foil packet, tearing it open quickly.

  When she lowered herself onto him, he thought he would explode. He wasn’t going to last. He pumped against her, meeting her downward strokes. A trickle of sweat rolled down the valley between her breasts and he licked it slowly, relishing the taste of her. He could feel her molten sheath convulse around him. Blondie wasn’t going to last either. Reaching between them, his fingers found her tiny nub and he stroked gently. Her breathy cries told him that she was close. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back, and then she came, throwing her head back, crying out her release. Stars exploded behind his eyelids as he followed her.

  She collapsed against him in a quivering heap, resting her head on his shoulder. Pete wrapped his arms around her trembling body. He nuzzled against her until he found her mouth and kissed her gently. As his racing heart slowed down and returned to normal, Pete was certain of only one thing. He might not know Blondie’s name, but he wasn’t going to let her go.

  * * * * *

  Charley didn’t recognize the crack on the ceiling. She closed her eyes and opened them again. Nope, the crack was still there. She was in a strange room, in a strange bed. How the hell had she gotten here? Hearing a soft snore beside her, she turned her head. He was cute and naked and she couldn’t remember his name. She had to get out of here.

  When she tried to sit up, the room lurched drunkenly, filling her with nausea. She clutched the edge of the mattress. Maybe she better lie down for a little while longer. As her face touched the pillow, the memories flooded back. The spaceport bar, the guys hitting on her, then things got a little fuzzy. She had been swimming, no, not swimming. She had been dancing in the fountain on the main concourse of the spaceport.

  The men in the bar had Joyed her. Bastards. Most people thought Joyz were harmless little pills, no worse than a couple of beers. What did the advertisements say? “Release your inner self.” There was quite a lot of her inner self that she didn’t want anyone to know about. She remembered being carried from the fountain. He had lifted her as if she weighed nothing and she had clung to him as they drove along the coast road.

  After a quick shower, Charley searched for her clothes. Her pants were still damp and she couldn’t find her tunic. She would have to take one of his. Charley glanced at the sleeping man. His unruly brown hair was tousled and his mouth was curved in a half-smile. His mouth. Another memory slammed into her brain. He had tried to send her to bed alone, but she had kissed him. Worse than that, she had been all over him like a sex-starved nymph. She had released her inner self all right, her inner brainless bimbo. What must he have thought of her?

  She didn’t want to find out. It would be better if she was gone before he woke up. Coward, alittle voice whispered inside her head. Charley scribbled a quick note of thanks and left it on the table beside the bed. She hesitated before deciding not to leave her name or com details. Probably best not to. She had lost her kit bag, stood up her new mentor and made a complete idiot of herself with the cutest man she had met in ages. The sooner she put last night behind her, the better.

  Chapter Two

  “What am I going to do, Misha? I really messed up.”

  In a coffee bar at the spaceport, Misha sipped her syntho-latte, trying not to laugh. She would have dearly loved to have seen Charley dancing in the fountain. “Don’t sweat it. I’ve done much worse than that. Your kit bag is probably in the bar and the guy doesn’t know your name. You just need to fix things up with the general. What was he like anyway?”

  “Who?”

  “Oh don’t give me that, Charley,” Misha said impatiently. “Mr. knight in shining armor. Come on, I want to know everything.”

  Charley looked around her. The cadets at the next table were definitely eavesdropping. “Will you be quiet, Misha,” she hissed. She stirred her tea again. “He was cute.”

  Misha raised one dark brow and grinned at her. “On a hotness scale of one to five, Charley, how cute was he?”

  “Four point eight.” A pink blush stained Charley’s cheeks.

  Misha squealed, sending her spoon ricocheting across the floor of the café. “Then we have to track him down. Let’s go back to the bar.”

  * * * * *

  A lone barman wiped the zinc counter, trying to appear busy. His eyes lit up when he saw them. “Ladies, what can I do for you?” He smiled flirtatiously at Misha. “In case you’re wondering, I’m off in half an hour.”

  Misha grinned back at him. “I’ll keep that in mind. We’re actually looking for a kit bag. It was left here last night.”

  The barman looked over her shoulder and nodded to a customer sitting in a side booth. “Your friend has it. He’s sitting right over there.”

  Charley turned around slowly. Her kit bag sat on the floor beside the table. His long legs were stretched out in front of him and a close-fitting tunic displayed a body that spent a lot of time in the gym. He hadn’t bothered to shave and his hair looked as if someone had been running their fingers through it. Her heart sank. She remembered doing that while they were kissing.

  Misha gave her a sly glance. “You’re wrong, Charley, he’s definitely a five.”

  There was nothing for it. She would have to face the music. Crossing the bar felt like the longest walk of her life. What was she going to say to him? Hi, sorry for throwing myself at you. Or, hi, have you found any women dancing in the fountain today? Already she could feel her cheeks flaring with embarrassment. Maybe they could just grab the bag and run.

  Misha waited until they were almost at the table. “You know, Charley, I’ve just realized that I’ve forgotten something. See you later.” With a quick wave to the barman, she was gone.

  Blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “Hi, Guess. I figured you’d come here.”

  “Hi,” she mumbled. Charley took a deep breath. It was best to get this over with quickly, and then she could go back to Fleet Academy and sort out the mess with
her mentor. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  “Sorry for what, exactly?”

  He wasn’t going to make this easy for her. One side of his mouth was twitching with suppressed laughter. Misha was right. He was definitely a five and she had really messed up.

  “I don’t usually behave like that.” To her embarrassment, she could feel tears pricking behind her eyelids. Charley reached for her kit bag. She had to get out of here.

  A warm hand covered hers. “Don’t go. I’m sorry. I’m behaving like an idiot.”

  His eyes were deep blue, the kind that you could drown in, and his nearness was unnerving. Charley pulled away. “You weren’t the one dancing in the fountain.”

  “No.” He grinned. “I don’t dance.”

  He had said that last night too, just before she kissed him. Charley stared at his mouth, remembering. That Joyz had definitely affected her brain. “Thank you for last night, but I really have to go.”

  With that, she grabbed her bag and almost ran from the bar. She half expected him to follow her and wasn’t sure whether she was glad or disappointed when he didn’t. It was probably just as well. She still had to face the general and she wasn’t looking forward to it. What the hell was he going to say when she told him?

  General Holmes was leaving his office when she arrived at the Academy. He opened the door again and ushered her inside. Charley’s words jumbled out. She had been ill the previous night and had stood up her mentor. The general didn’t look pleased. “Charley, do you know what I had to do to get you a chief engineer? Why couldn’t you want to be a captain like everyone else?”

  She shook her head miserably. “I am so sorry, General, I really want this chance. Please. I don’t care if I have to scrub his floors for the next month.”

  General Holmes shook his head and sighed. “Go to the mess hall and grab a coffee. I’ll contact Pete Olafson and smooth things over with him.”

  She had barely reached the mess hall when the general commed her. “Good news. Pete’s in town and he’ll take you back with him. I’ll see you in the main lobby in five minutes, and Charley, try not to mess this up.”

  “I won’t, General, and thank you.”

  Charley raced back though the hallway and down the main staircase to the lobby. She was going to be the best student ever. She would wash his socks if he asked her to. Anything, just anything, to get back into his good books. Her heart sank when she saw them. One uniformed man with cropped gray hair and one who was wearing the same leather jacket she had worn the night before. This couldn’t be happening.

  The general stepped forward to greet her. “Ensign Maxwell, this is Chief Engineer Pete Olafson. I know you two will get along just fine.”

  Pete didn’t know how he kept a straight face. He couldn’t believe it when the general commed him. He had almost forgotten about his new student and here she was. Charley had run out on him twice in twenty-four hours. Now they were stuck together for the next month, unless she dropped out of the mentoring program. He stepped forward and offered his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ensign Maxwell.”

  “Likewise, Sir.”

  Two bright spots appeared on her cheeks, and from her worried glance, she was probably wondering if he had told the general about the night before. Fleet Academy operated a strict no fraternization policy between teachers and students. If General Holmes suspected that there was anything going on between them, Charley would be off the program. He couldn’t do that to her. “Is this all of your luggage?”

  Charley nodded.

  Pete bent down and picked up the kit bag. “Let’s go then.”

  The journey back to his apartment was different from the night before. She held his waist lightly, instead of curving her body against his and wrapping her arms around him. When they got to his apartment, Charley picked up the bag and hurried in the direction of his bedroom.

  “That one’s mine, Charley. Yours is the one on the left. It’s probably a bit of a mess.”

  She didn’t look around, but hurried into the other room and closed the door firmly behind her. This was going to be awkward. If they had to live together for the next month, they had to talk. His personal com buzzed and Pete looked at the display. It was Karl Hayes from Fleet Command.

  “Sorry to disturb you at home, Pete, but we’re calling in the team. Professor Liston has gone AWOL and there’s a problem with the Pegasus.”

  Pete went to his room and threw a few things in a bag. It was a two-hour ride to the base where the ship was undergoing trials and he didn’t know how long he would be gone. Pegasus was a top-level project and only a handful of people outside the research facility knew of its existence. What the hell was he going to do with Charley? Pete tapped on the door of Charley’s room and went inside. She had unearthed clean sheets from somewhere and was busy making up the bed. “Don’t bother unpacking, Charley. Something has come up. I’ll drop you back at the Academy on the way.”

  He expected that she’d be hurt and annoyed. He wasn’t prepared for her silence. When she bit her lip, trying not to cry, he felt like a heel.

  “Of course, Sir, I understand perfectly. Just give me a moment.”

  Pete went outside and picked up his bag. He couldn’t figure her out, the giggling blonde who had danced in the fountain, the passionate woman who had made love to him and the blushing girl who had run away from him twice. He had just ruined her final-year plans and yet there was barely a flicker of emotion. It was almost as if she expected to be disappointed. Pete dropped the bag and sat down heavily. He was useless with women. Machines were much easier to decipher. If he was completely honest, he wanted more than a one-night stand with Charley, but first he had to get her to trust him. Pete heard the bedroom door open.

  “I’m ready.”

  Her voice was steady and calm, and that made him feel angry. She had no right to feel calm. They had gone from strangers to lovers and back again in the last twenty-four hours. She should be bawling him out at this stage. He patted the cushion beside him. “I’m not. Sit down, Charley.”

  He didn’t look at her face. That would have unnerved him completely. He felt her weight as she settled down on the cushion beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of silver. A tiny fragment from the foil packet she had torn open the night before. It had been one of the best nights of his life. There was no way he was letting her go. She would have to come to the base with him. “Charley, I’m working on a top-level project for Fleet Command. If you come with me, you’ll probably end up working night and day and you won’t get any credit for it.”

  Charley couldn’t believe it. Pete was giving her another chance. Her first reaction was to wrap her arms around him. No. This was the new Charley. No more fountains. No more kissing strangers. No more fantasies about her new boss. Okay, forget that last one. “I don’t care about the hours, Sir. I want in.”

  Ten minutes later, they were on their way. Mile after mile of anonymous tree-lined road flew by them. She gave up trying to keep her distance from Pete. Charley wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. She liked the feel of him under her hands and the earthy smell of leather. They made good time, arriving less than two hours later.

  Pete waited impatiently as the security guards at the base checked her ID twice, scanned her retina and fingerprints and finally allowed her to enter.

  “This way.” Pete strode ahead of her toward the hangar. He swiped his security pass and ushered her inside. The Pegasus hovered silently in the middle of the hangar—a sleek beauty the color of gunmetal, with an outer skin that seemed to pulse with energy. The ship was so beautiful that it took her breath away.

  Charley walked around the craft, stroking the underside admiringly. “I can’t hear the engines,” she whispered. “And where is the propulsion unit?”

  Pete laughed proudly. “You’re touching it.”

  “You’ve cracked light propulsion?” Charley’s face was a picture of wonder as she imagin
ed the possibilities. With this new propulsion system, human beings could travel further into space than they had ever imagined. If only they could solve the problems associated with long-term stasis. The current record for continuous stasis was two years, and most of the test subjects experienced severe psychological problems when they emerged. The enforced isolation without any human contact proved too much for them. “You’d still have a problem with stasis,” she reminded him.

  “That’s what we’re working on, Ensign.” A white-coated figure emerged from the ship and walked slowly down the steps. “Hi, Pete, I’m sorry to drag you out here on the weekend.”

  Charley was dumbstruck. She was looking at Karl Hayes, one of the best scientific minds of the century, now Head of Research for Fleet Command. While other kids had admired holo-images of the latest singing sensations, she had lain in her bunk looking at him. She clutched at Pete’s arm, wondering if this was a dream. Nope, it was definitely real.

  “What seems to be the problem, Karl?” Pete asked.

  “Liston’s gone and the Array is down. Come and take a look.”

  It was like no ship Charley had ever been on. In the center of the bridge were five seats, tilted back in a reclining position. Each seat had two sensory plates for the hands and a visor which partially covered the face. The bridge had no viewscreen and there were no consoles for the crew. Colored lights played around the walls, merging together and separating again like fractals.

  Pete lay back in one of the chairs and strapped himself in. Pulling down the visor to cover his eyes, he pressed a control device beside his right ear. “Initiating the Array, now.”

  Charley stepped back as thin beams of light crisscrossed Pete’s body. Like the intricate pattern of a spider’s web.

  “Come on, sweetheart. Say hello to Daddy.” The lights flared briefly at his words, and then disappeared. Pete tried again, but this time there was no response. He rolled back the visor and slid out of the chair.

  “She’s not responding. How long has she been like this, Karl?”

 

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