For several moments Jason watched his roommate without speaking, his mind on Lacey. He wanted her so badly it hurt to think about it. He wished with his entire soul that he could somehow change the past so that he could look forward to some sort of future. As it was, his life seemed pretty fucking pointless. “What you got there?” he eventually asked, sighing as he rolled onto his back again, reached behind his neck and punched his pillow a few times.
Match turned his brilliant blue gaze on Jason. “It’s a prototype.”
“Prototype what?”
Matchstick gave him a significant look. “Working parts for a female ‘droid.”
Jason snorted as he lifted one hand to move his tangled hair from his eyes. “A mechanical pussy? How’s it work?”
“I’ve installed a small electrostatic precipitator in the top end.”
“How’s it work?” Jason repeated dryly.
“Kind of like one of those early smoke-eaters. When something moves inside it, between the two posts, it sends a small electric charge across the poles and…zap!”
“Ouch,” he said. “Sounds painful.”
“I think it sounds hot as hell,” Matchstick replied with his usual optimism.
“Sounds painful and hot. Neither of which appeal to me in the least. Have you tried it out yet?”
Matchstick shook his head. “You wanna be the first to give it a go?”
“No thanks,” he answered with a heavy dose of skepticism that he didn’t bother to hide.
The slashroom door opened and a pretty eYonan warrior dressed in black leathers stepped out. She sent a shy wave in Matchstick’s direction, her long tumble of blonde hair falling over one shoulder as she reached for the bedroom door.
“See you, Farra,” Matchstick said cheerfully then returned to his work.
Jason stared at the closing door and gave his bedsheets a slight tug upward to make sure his pubes were covered. “Was she…in here last night? All night?”
Matchstick shrugged. “You were asleep,” he explained.
Jason turned his stare on the tall redhead.
The slashroom door opened again and another pretty soldier stepped through it—this time a brunette with closely cropped hair. “Bye, Matchstick,” she said, her voice a husky croon.
“Bye, Aleya,” he answered briefly before returning his attention to the contraption in his hands.
Jason’s stare widened as he glanced at his roommate’s single bed. “I must have been sleeping pretty soundly.”
“Dead to the world,” Matchstick affirmed.
Again the slashroom door opened. Another young woman flashed a smile at the redhead before tiptoeing from the bedroom.
Match caught his pole-axed expression, shrugged and explained. “I don’t think Terra would have been here except that she was hoping to meet you.”
Jason crossed his brawny arms over his chest and sent him an injured look. “Well, I hope she wasn’t disappointed about the way things turned out.”
“She wasn’t,” Match answered lightly as he inserted a small battery into the device and closed the plastech door over it. “What do you think?” he asked, laying his tools on the desktop and holding the mechanical pussy up for Jason’s examination.
Jason motioned with one finger toward the thing in Matchstick’s hands. “Feathers?” he asked, his voice thick with incredulity.
“Hey. Don’t knock ‘em until you’ve tried ‘em.”
“But…won’t they catch fire when that thing discharges?”
“Maybe,” Matchstick said, shrugging again as he inserted one long finger inside the shuttlecock. The electrostatic precipitator discharged with a flash of light and a crack of sound. A puff of smoke followed, along with the smell of burning feathers.
“Back to the drawing board?” Jason suggested.
Match set the smoldering object on the table, his look distant as he gazed at the bedroom door. “I really like it here,” he said, which by the look of things was probably the understatement of the year. “I like the…space. The people. I’d like to stay.”
“That doesn’t exactly surprise me,” Jason muttered. Anywhere three beautiful women were willing to pile into bed with one man was probably a good place to stay. Right now, Jason would settle for one. As long as she was the right one.
The redhead cut a glance at the smoking shuttlecock. “If I can get this thing working right, I might go into business with one of the eYonans, installing working parts in ‘droid barmaids. Have you met Junkie?”
“Junkie!” Jason snarled, sitting up in the bed. “That fuckup? You’re not serious.”
Matchstick sent him a surprised look. “I take it you don’t like him.”
“‘Don’t like him’ doesn’t begin to cover it,” he started before he was interrupted by the sound of another door opening. Jason let out a curse of exasperation as he turned, expecting to see yet another woman creeping from the slashroom but this time it was Gray at the bedroom door. His commanding officer stepped into the room and targeted Jason with his gray gaze. “Alpha Tango,” he said, which was their private command to listen up. “Meet me in my room in thirty minutes. I have new orders for you.”
* * * * *
Jason trailed a few steps behind Lacey and Junkie as together they explored Danjer’s villa. They’d spent a leisurely morning on three hovering magnabikes which floated a foot above the ground by means of magnetic field repulsion, there being enough magnetite in the planet’s crust to create the perfect conditions for the frictionless vehicles. Traveling southwest, they stretched a two and a half hour trip into three, crossing miles of wildflower-strewn meadows and passing through the city of Aranthea before climbing into the forested foothills of a lofty mountain range. Before leaving the Iron Palace at Judipeao, he and Lacey had been summoned to Gray’s room where they’d been given their orders. Gray had informed them of special training they were to receive at the hands of their new wing commander—Junkie. They’d been instructed to follow his every directive without exception. Barring the development of a life-threatening situation, they were to maintain communication silence during their deployment at Danjer’s villa.
Jason couldn’t figure out how the hell he’d ended up under the eYonan’s command but years of military discipline had taught him to think twice before he questioned his commanding officer. And if there was one Spaceforce officer who had his complete confidence, it was Graham Hamm. Maybe Junkie was going to bring them up to date on radio communication. Or perhaps he was going to drill them in eYonan fencing technique.
Thrown suddenly together with Lacey, he was acutely aware of her presence as they strolled the halls of the villa. He was so distracted, in fact, that he felt like a tongue-tied schoolboy. Desperately, he searched for a topic of conversation that might allow him to share a few words with the stunning redhead.
“Drop your bags here,” Junkie informed them curtly as he strode into the villa’s large master bedroom, his cleated heels clicking on the marble tiles beneath his feet, “and we’ll get to work.”
Wondering what the hell sort of work they’d be doing in the master bedroom and why Junkie hadn’t assigned them each a room to bunk down in, Jason glanced around at the long room Danjer and Saxon shared with their wife. Tinted windows spanned the south wall from the ceiling to the low, built-in cabinets, allowing an open view of the grasslands sloping away to the south. The evening views would have to be stunning as the storms moved across the landscape from east to west. A wide bed layered with comfortable-looking quilts and lace-trimmed sheets sat against the white stucco wall. As he gazed at the bed, he realized it was wide enough for three people. But then, the room was used by three people who were married to each other and, by all accounts, very much in love.
His gaze drifted to Lacey who grasped the shoulder straps of her bag firmly in her small fist, an uneasy expression tightening the corners of her mouth. The lieutenant was quite clearly uncomfortable about surrendering her bag and accepting the prospect that this r
oom might be her bedroom during their stay.
But they had orders that required them to follow Junkie’s every command.
Jason dropped his regulation Spaceforce bag on the floor and reached for hers. “Let me get that for you,” he urged her gently. When she gave up her bag, he stowed it on top of the built-ins. Wishing he could set her at ease and still searching for something relevant to say, he stepped through a wide arch which opened into the most lavish bathing room he’d ever seen.
While the villa’s other bedrooms were each equipped with a small adjoining slashroom, the bathroom for the master bedroom had been recently remodeled. It featured a tub big enough to pass for a swimming pool on most planets along with a large old-fashioned tiled shower running the length of one wall, both of which fixtures had been plumbed to deliver hot water! While water-fed bathrooms were rare on eYona and virtually nonexistent on space stations and spacecraft, it was still used for personal cleansing on Earth. Danjer was an Earther, which probably accounted for the luxury installments, but bathrooms on Earth were tiny. This bathroom was huge, harking back to twentieth-century comfort and opulence and easily as big as his family’s apartment back home.
Jason let out a low whistle and stepped back into the bedroom, a grateful smile on his lips as he said, “Lieutenant Meadows, you’ve got to see this.”
Junkie’s stern voice cut across his enthusiasm like a cold knife. “That’s a good idea, Lieutenant Orlov. Take Lacey into the shower and bathe her.”
For several seconds, Jason thought he must have heard wrong. He stared at the eYonan who stood in front of the windows at the long bank of low cabinets while pulling his clothing and other personal items from his bag. “What?”
Junkie didn’t even turn to look at him. “You heard me, Lieutenant Orlov.”
“You can’t—”
“Your orders require you to follow all of my commands,” he bit out, turning to face Jason, a heavy book in his hand.
“Yes, but—”
“Without hesitation,” Junkie barked, slamming the book down onto the cabinet’s gleaming surface. “Get in there and strip. Both of you. I’ll be in there in a moment to watch.”
Lacey’s eyes were as round as saucers as Jason looked down at her. Grabbing her hand, he dragged her behind him as he stalked through the arch into the bathroom. There, he was confronted with a long wall of mirrors that reflected his image back at him, that ugly damn scar standing out prominently, a white slash on his flushed and angry face.
“Jason,” Lacey asked, her voice faltering. “What’s going on?”
Jason glowered at the reflection of his own grim face. “Domination and humiliation if you ask me and, believe me, I’ve seen enough in my lifetime to know about it.”
“But Junkie never seemed like the sort—”
“I know. I know,” he snarled, ripping both hands back through his hair, watching as the golden strands slipped through his fingers and fell back across his forehead. “Fuck! What the hell’s going on here? Maybe there’s a reason for the…training. Maybe it’s vital that we learn to follow Junkie’s commands without question, no matter how outrageous. Gray wouldn’t have put us in this spot unless he felt it was important.”
“We’re going to have to go along with it?” Lacey asked, clearly appalled.
“I think so,” he growled. “Looks like you’re about to get your wish, Lieutenant Meadows.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think this is going to end at stripping and bathing.”
“Lieutenant Orlov?” she murmured, her bottom lip quivering, her chin unsteady as her worried gaze focused on the archway that led back into the bedroom where they’d left Junkie.
With a snarl burning in his throat, he turned away from that picture of feminine innocence, so at odds with what he knew about her. She wanted two men fucking her at the same time. How innocent could she be? “I’m just guessing, sweetheart, but it looks like you’re about to get two men to fuck you.”
When she offered no answer, he turned back to face her. Her chin had stopped its trembling. Her eyes were narrowed on him, a flicker of fire in her opaline irises.
He ignored the warning light that glowed at the back of her eyes and forged ahead. “That is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Not exactly,” she said, her voice edged with ice. “I was hoping to find two men to love me. I could find two men to fuck me, if that’s all I wanted. I’ve had no less than five offers.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he countered with a defensive snort, his blood curdling at the thought of five men climbing on her.
“And I was hoping to find two men I could love,” she went on, stiffly. “Foolishly enough, I thought you might be one of them.”
He answered her with a grunt and a roll of his shoulders. “Earthers don’t share their women. Not if they care about them. But don’t be surprised if I react,” he warned her. “If I have to wash a naked woman, I’m going to get hard.”
“Finally, some good news,” she ripped off with a callous snort then turned her back on him, missing the dirty look he shot at her as she started to undress.
When he stripped, he was already hard. He saw Lacey’s gaze drop to his groin then swiftly search for somewhere else to look. He was hardly surprised. It wasn’t exactly a pretty sight and he would have spared himself the embarrassment, if he’d had any say in the matter. But Junkie hadn’t given him any choice, the bastard. Jason growled as he glanced down at his heavy cock, the once-fine skin gnarled and thickened with the ugly scars of a rough lifestyle.
He led her over to the showers and turned the faucet. When he was satisfied with the temperature of the water, he angled the spray on her head and shoulders. He soaped up his hands and faced her. “Where should I start, Lieutenant?”
“On her tits,” came a voice from behind him.
Jason turned and glared at Junkie as he lifted himself to sit on the marble counter beneath the mirrors. His legs were spread wide as he took a bite from the piece of tallic fruit in his hand. The three stones that studded the placket of his fly drew Jason’s eye and, against his will, he found himself staring at the thick weight that filled the crotch of the eYonan’s leather pants.
Junkie prodded the crescent-shaped fruit in his direction. “Start with her tits,” he repeated.
Jason took a deep breath then went to work with both hands while trying to maintain some sort of professional reserve. But as his hands glided over Lacey’s round breasts, what started out as perfunctory, businesslike movements soon deteriorated as his blood thickened and his breathing turned into shallow, tortured bursts. He found himself smoothing his palms over her flesh and lifting her breasts as he rubbed the lavender-scented soap into her skin. With a sense of quiet awe, he watched her nipples tighten beneath his soapy palms, intrigued by the wide spread of her rose-colored areolas, enthralled by the hard peaks her nipples formed, aroused by the high color in her cheeks and the resentful fire in her eyes.
The young woman was angry and there wasn’t a fucking thing she could do about it.
“I think that will work better if you stand behind her,” Junkie suggested, yanking him from the lust-hazed dream state into which he’d fallen.
“Actually,” Jason snarled, “I think her breasts are probably clean by now.”
“I disagree,” Junkie drawled.
Sending a sharp glance at Junkie, Jason moved behind Lacey and continued soaping her breasts, swirling circles around her nipples, fighting the urge to close his eyes, to squeeze harder, to draw her back into his chest and pull her perfect heart-shaped ass into his groin. He was sure it would be absolute fucking heaven—the feel of her slippery wet skin sliding over his cock.
Junkie waved his fruit in the air, his voice annoyingly casual as he gave the next order. “Okay. You can move on to her arms and hands.”
The tension that had been building in the steamy room abated somewhat as he moved in front of Lacey again and lifted her hand th
en slowly soaped first one arm then the other. He was surprised how much he enjoyed the act—the feel of her, being with her, touching her. Sure, he’d longed for this moment. But a part of him had worried about how he’d react. And if he’d react at all. He’d been in similar situations before, with men, when he’d had to force a reaction out of his body, when he’d had to masturbate to produce the necessary hard-on. Despite his earlier gruff warning that Lacey shouldn’t be surprised if he got hard, he’d been afraid that his body, long used to different circumstances, wouldn’t react to a woman.
But being with a woman was different. Different in a deliciously achy, blood-pounding kind of way. Just the sight of Lacey made his cock rigid and full as blood hammered into his erection and thudded dully along his entire hot, needy length. He glanced at his cock, rising in a strong thick spike, dark and angry and ready to go deep and get fucked. Although he’d have a hell of time trying to explain it to another man, who’d surely have a hard time relating, it seemed like the most wonderful thing in the world to react instinctively rather than by force or directive. He had never felt more natural—or more male. And despite the anger he wanted to direct at Junkie, a hot lusty wave of gratitude rose within him for the man who’d finally forced him to take the difficult step he’d been avoiding for many different reasons.
Because he had been avoiding women—not just Lacey but women in general—for the last eight years. He’d been afraid of how a woman might react to the sight of his thickly scarred cock, afraid that she’d recognize him for a whore. And, though he ached to experience a woman’s tight, wet heat for the first time, he was terrified that he’d hurt her when he did.
Lacey’s slender naked body looked so impossibly fragile compared to what he was used to—as though one wrong move might break her in two. His cock was a pulsing, aching mass, ridged with thick scar tissue. Would he hurt her as he penetrated her? Because, when the time came, he didn’t think he’d have the strength to hold back.
Made for Two Heroes Page 6
