by K. F. Breene
Ryker hesitated for a moment before touching the hollow of Millicent’s back and applying pressure. She took the subtle cue and followed Roe out the door, through a few dingy corridors—a standard at this level—and to a small craft docked in an open bay. Wind whipped at them and rain stung their faces as Roe flipped open a box that must’ve held the controls. Before he could touch them, though, the doors slid open.
“What—” Roe glanced up in surprise.
“We’ll explain later,” Millicent said, jogging into the craft with Ryker and Trent right behind her.
Roe sat in the cockpit, and Ryker positioned himself as close to him as he could, leaving everyone else to take seats in the passenger area. “How long have you been doing this?” Ryker asked.
“Since I was your age, give or take. I was two clicks above when that was exciting. It seems like each generation gets smarter.”
“And more dependent,” Ryker said in a hollow tone.
“For the elite, yes.”
“How many times have you failed in this sort of thing?” Ryker asked.
“Me personally? A few. My people? Many. This isn’t a sure thing. Nothing about this is a sure thing. We’re better at getting people off-planet now, but we’re not perfect. Shit happens.”
The dock made a grinding noise—Millicent hoped it was the dock—before the craft started to lower through the air. She did everything she could not to push her face against the window and look down. Surely someone would be beneath them, unable to get away from the dock in time?
“We have to travel a ways to get to the ship,” Roe said. “Getting out of the city is going to be the hardest part. These conglomerates have eyes and ears everywhere. We can’t get past security to alter your files in any way, but I assume you have that ability?”
“Of course,” Millicent said, holding Marie close and running her fingers through her soft hair.
“Of course . . .” Roe shook his head. “Used to being in command, huh?”
“Yes,” Ryker said.
“I meant the girl,” Roe growled. “You’re just the muscle.”
Trent ducked his head, probably to hide his smile.
“I’m used to getting things done,” Millicent answered.
“Good.” The vessel started forward before continuing to lower. “It’ll take them a long time to search this low. Very little usable tech down here. When everyone is used to computers doing everything for them, they forget how to get around without them.”
“I doubt Mr. Hunt would have that hang-up.” Ryker threaded his fingers together and leaned his elbows on his knees.
“I get the feeling Mr. Hunt is as good as you are,” Roe said. The vessel moved forward again in its now pitch-black surroundings. Shutters lowered, clearly screening the lit interior from the outside.
“He’s as good as I am, but without a soul. He goes about things a little differently than I do.”
“And that’s saying something,” Trent grumbled. “If I were in charge, I wouldn’t have let someone like Mr. Hunt go through the tests.”
“That’s why they never would’ve put you in charge,” Roe said. “These conglomerates breed monsters when they need them. Humanity takes a backseat the higher you advance.”
“What made you get out?” Trent asked. “If you were two clicks above the Curve, you would’ve been treated as well as these two.”
“Fell in love. Pretty standard these days. They moved her away and wouldn’t let me join her. They tried to dose me with Clarity—not realizing that was just for sex, not for love. When it wouldn’t work, I got a dose of something that’s off the market now. It turned me into an emotional zombie, but it didn’t erase the memory. I no longer gave a shit about them, only about her. I knew that when the drug wore off, I’d be fine. So did they. Their final response was to kill her.”
Silence descended in the craft, finally broken with “You must’ve been more valuable than she was.”
Ryker turned his hard look on Trent, whose lips thinned before he hunched down into himself.
“I was, yes,” Roe said. “Much more so. She couldn’t even breed. Lab born.”
“So you devised a way out?” Millicent asked. “Like we’re doing?”
“No,” he said. “I burned the whole department to the ground. That crap they dosed me with left me with nothing but logic and a vendetta. That’s a damn scary thing for someone who’s cut off from morals and emotion. I killed over a million people, most of them just following the rules.” Millicent saw one of his shoulders twitch—a shrug, maybe. “When the drug wore off, I was so sick with myself, so disgusted with their resolve, I figured out a way to get off-planet without them catching me. But where can you go to get away from yourself? It wasn’t long before I came back. That’s when I started all of this. I was something of a legend. People were more inclined to listen.”
“Jessima Smith,” Ryker said in a knowing voice. “You’re still a legend. It’s why I get away with so much.”
“We’re a special breed.”
“Jessima Smith . . .” Trent took to his wrist. “You are the most bred man in history, I believe.”
“They like violence for certain positions, yes.” Another softer grinding sound emitted before the craft shook. They’d docked. “The conglomerates try to control everything, but they’re equally excited and terrified by what they can’t control. The whole system is . . .” He shook his head as he emerged from the cockpit.
“Don’t tell me we’re related,” Ryker said into his hands.
“No, no. He wasn’t approved for natural births. Too unpredictable.” Trent scrolled through the text on his wrist screen.
Roe barked out laughter. “If we were, you would’ve gotten your good looks from your mother, ’cause they sure wouldn’t have come from me.”
“They haven’t figured out how to quell the love emotion,” Trent said, not realizing the others had stood and were readying to leave the craft. “It’s an elusive thing. We don’t really understand what creates it. Sex is easy enough, of course. That’s chemical, for the most part, revolving around touch and pleasure and the biological need to procreate . . .”
Heat surged through Millicent’s center, simmering and burning and settling deep. It urged her to step closer to Ryker. She rolled her eyes and wiped her hand across her forehead to clear the sudden moisture. “I did procreate. Why does it persist? It’s the most annoying thing . . .”
Roe laughed as he stopped near the door. “Wait until you experience love, Ms. Foster, if you ever find it. That’ll be even more annoying, especially when it’s time to compromise over something trivial and you realize you can’t walk away, no matter how much you want to.”
“I have love, and I don’t want to walk away.” She kissed Marie on the head.
“I’m talking about a different love. Let’s go.” The doors slid open. Roe brandished an older-style gun with plenty of power before stepping into the pitch-black. A beam of light flared from his hand. “Best not to advertise our presence more than we must. We’re not the worst thing down here, I assure you. And given all our track records, I don’t say that lightly.”
“We won’t have long,” Ryker warned.
“I know. But it’ll work for tonight. You all need sleep. You look half-dead. I need you at full capacity.” Farther down the platform, Roe stopped at a door, took out a small metal thing, and fitted it into the metal door handle. He turned and then pushed. The door swung open.
“Wow. Talk about no tech.” Millicent looked at the contraption.
“Exactly. It is very confusing to people like you,” Roe said, slapping the wall to turn on the lights. “Okay. Through there”—he pointed down a hall—“are two bedrooms. One is mine. Out here is a couch that makes a bed. Figure it out. We leave at dawn. The sun doesn’t reach this far down, so dawn will be a loud alarm or my foot nudging your ribs.”
“Do you have any tech at all in here?” Millicent asked as Ryker took the baby and settled her and her st
uffed bunny onto the soft bed Trent had already pulled out. She was half-asleep, and she quickly curled up and closed her eyes. That she needed no more comfort than a stuffed toy was probably a testament to how tired she was. That, or how she’d been raised thus far, without someone to sing her to sleep or cuddle her through the night.
“Of course we do. How do you think we have light?” Roe pointed up at the bare lightbulbs from yester decade.
“I meant computer tech of any kind. Can I get online?” Millicent asked.
Roe’s eyes sparkled as though a joke had been told. “Yeah. Got a console in my bedroom. As well as an emergency exit. No screens out here, though. No wireless.”
“I’ll need to check it in the morning. To see how things are going.”
“Got it. Get some sleep.” Roe limped away down the hall.
“At least I won’t be the slowest one anymore,” Trent said, watching him.
“Ryker, I should check your back.” Millicent motioned for him to undo his suit. “We really need to get new suits, too. I realize they recycle fluids, but it’s not tech I’ve ever looked into. I don’t know if there is a limit . . .”
“I’ve definitely pushed mine further than you have,” Trent said as he sat on the bed next to Marie and then fell back. He threw an arm over his eyes. “And it’s still working.”
“Let’s take the other bed,” Ryker said, stepping to the side while gesturing her forward. “You can take a look in there. A long one. Up close.”
Millicent scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Let’s go.”
The walls seemed freshly painted, but maybe that was only in comparison to the exterior. The door was wood, and she let her fingers run over the surface before she pushed it open. “This apartment is probably a hundred years old. More. When’s the last time you saw a wood door?”
“In pictures. When’s the last time you saw a lock that required a physical key?”
“Never. But it’s all in great shape.”
“Defies logic, doesn’t it?” He dropped the tech bag on the ground and stripped down his suit. He didn’t stop at his waist, though. He pulled it all the way down to his feet before stepping out. His manhood stuck straight out.
The tingling turned up a notch. Her brain started to fog over, but not from fatigue.
And that’s why they named the drug Clarity.
“Right then.” She cleared her throat and turned him around so she could see his broad back covered in angry red flesh. “Miraculous.” She traced a few of the more healed lines with her fingers. “Inhuman that you heal this fast.”
“I am all human, I assure you,” he said, his voice deep and coated in velvet. “One hundred percent man.”
Butterflies filled her stomach. “Yes. I noticed that part of your body a moment ago.”
“Impressive, huh?”
“Ugly, actually. Obviously designed by a man.” Millicent applied a stitcher to a couple of places and healing gel to a couple of others. She’d save the rest of the Cure-all for the next time he nearly died. No sense speeding his healing up any more—he had some time to lie idle. “Okay, I think that’ll do you. Is there any pain?”
“None.” He turned to her, his eyes burning and intent. “Desire, though. Of that, I have plenty. You are a beautiful woman, Millicent Foster. And incredibly intelligent and resourceful. One of a kind.”
“All natural borns are.”
“No. Natural borns are unique in some ways, but usually small ways. Our characteristics are not perfectly symmetrical, a strange concoction of traits due to nature’s surprise, but we’re not that different from lab borns. And some of us are exactly the same as one or two clones. We’re just born differently. But you . . . are just you. There is no one like you, and believe me, I’ve looked. I’ve met a lot of people. A lot of women. You are one of a kind. The conglomerate knew that before I did. And now you’ve created another one of a kind.” His lips were soft and insistent, nibbling on hers. He tasted savory and delicious.
“I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you, Millicent. The very first moment. I’ll never forget all the thoughts racing across your face on that first ride. You were trying to figure me out, figure out what I was doing there. It was interesting to watch, especially since your reactions weren’t what I would’ve expected. Your brain works differently than mine. Than the type of brain I was taught to counteract. You’re smarter than me. It’s a first.”
“We’re on the same level, and I hardly believe it’s a first.” Her words came out wispy as his lips nibbled down her neck.
“I told you before that you should be retested.”
“What’s your point?”
His lips found hers again as his hand slid along her suit’s clasp. The fabric parted. His warm palm slid across her stomach before the other joined. Together they moved upward, roaming over her breasts and against her sensitive nipples. “I wanted to get you off-planet when I first saw you. I knew in that moment that I could spend the rest of my life with you. And only you. But when I watched you cuddle your baby. Our baby—I hadn’t realized she was mine at the time. When I saw that, I wanted to take you both. I wanted us to be a family. Before I even knew Marie was mine, I wanted to help raise her.”
She closed her eyes and got lost in his kiss. In his confession. It tickled that deep place inside her, softening the compassion she wasn’t supposed to have.
Then his thumbs stroked over her taut nipples, and suddenly all the sentiment was replaced by the tightening, pounding parts of her body that wouldn’t be ignored.
“Uuuoo. That’s . . . I like that.” Millicent’s eyes fluttered closed. “Yes, keep doing that.”
His chuckle was dark. “So many things you haven’t experienced, Millie. It’ll be fun awakening your desires.”
“Do you live with arousal constantly?”
“Around you, yes.”
“Isn’t it extremely annoying?”
“No. I enjoy the anticipation. It’s more exciting. You’ll see.”
“I don’t want to s—” A hot mouth encircled her nipple. Her gasp filled the room as fire blazed through her body. “I might want to see . . .” She groaned.
His hands slid over her shoulders and then down her arms, taking the suit with it. Then over the swell of her hips and down her newly trembling thighs. Her breath came faster, and everything tightened up.
“Have you done any of this before?” Ryker asked quietly, his breath tickling her navel.
“You know I haven’t.”
His mouth inched lower until another of her gasps filled the room. “Let me take you on a tour of your body, Millie, starting with this spot.”
The suction was probably the single best thing in the world at that moment. If she could form words, she would answer in the affirmative. More heat, followed by winding so tight she gripped his hair and made unintelligible sounds, panting and moaning in the process. An explosion so glorious only those black briefs had been able to match it rocked through her body. She breathed in deeply as shivers and vibrations made a smile blossom on her face.
Ryker pulled back strange-looking sheets before scooping her up and then laying her down. The fabric was softer than it was at home. It smelled different, too, like her air freshener. That was called cotton, after a plant that had existed hundreds of years ago.
She felt the fabric again. “Do you think this comes from off-world?”
“Or maybe we aren’t told all that’s happening on this world . . .” Ryker settled between her thighs. His playful, teasing tongue brought the tightness back with an intensity that had her writhing under him.
“I won’t stop until I hear you scream my name, princess,” he said quietly, moving back up her body so he could suck in her bottom lip.
Despite his earlier ministrations, nothing prepared her for what came next. His thrust pushed all the air from her lungs. His body inside hers chased away all the thoughts, big and small. All she could do was feel.
As he continued to mov
e, her legs drifted farther up the sides of his body before hooking over his hips. Her arms held on tight, and her swinging hips rose up to meet his downward plunges. And the heat, oh the glorious heat, soaked through her in a way that defied words.
An explosion of pleasure made her cry out. She bit back further exclamations just in time to maintain her dignity. Praising the divine, or worse, him, would get her teased forever. But he kept on, so intense. So consuming. It stole her will and then swept her away. When the next explosion came through, her yell of exquisite bliss probably woke the neighbors—assuming there were any.
“Not until you say my name,” he said as his lips met hers again. Then his deep and sensuous kiss got the heat building inside her all over again.
One thing was for certain: the black briefs had nothing on Ryker Gunner. And if she ever admitted that out loud, there would be no craft big enough to carry his monstrous ego.
Chapter 23
Millicent came awake slowly, still gripped by sleep. Purple flashed in the dark room, highlighting the large arm wrapped around her middle. The warmth coating her back was the distinct form of a man made of solid muscle. His breath fell across her cheek evenly, indicating he was still deeply asleep.
In confusion, she blinked and then widened her eyes, trying to clear away the sandy quality. The purple glow persisted, throbbing. She brought her wrist up grudgingly.
Then bolted upright.
“Ryker, wake up!” She shoved him.
One word pulsed across her skin: Breach!
“Ryker!”
She shoved him again so she could jump out of the bed. Cold assaulted her, but she didn’t have time to don her suit. She ripped open the bedroom door before slamming into Roe’s door. The handle would only turn a fraction, the soft click-click hinting at a lock. “Roe!” She slammed her shoulder into the solid wood again.
“What’s happening?” Ryker had followed her.
The door swung open, revealing a puffy-eyed Roe with disheveled hair. His hand slid along the wall next to the door. Light bathed the room. Roe’s gaze swept down her body. “No, thank you.”
