Jeremy stepped closer and in a quietly controlled voice, he said, “Look harder.”
The flight officer paled. “I’m merely telling that you the Mirage isn’t here, sir. And it isn’t scheduled to land in the next twenty-four hours. Perhaps it was delayed. That’s all I know.” Liar. Jeremy knew all the up-to-date information was on the digital clipboard he held.
All the planets, in six out of the seven districts throughout their galaxy, participated in an obscenely expensive communication system that cut through the space static regular folks had to deal with in order to ensure any and all flight information was relayed in a timely manner. However, the personnel on the flight docks in every port regularly denied that they had access to any special flight information.
“Was there a message that she was going to be delayed?”
The harried man pushed out a disgusted sigh, looked at his high-tech clipboard manifest, and scrolled through several screens before shaking his head. “No messages in the last seventy-two hours from the Mirage.”
“Do you have information on her cargo? Did she make it to her destination in the first place?”
Another long sigh escaped from the flight officer. Jeremy fought the urge to rip the manifest from his fingers to check for himself. Protocol be damned.
The man looked at his device again, scrolling and sighing deeply before a smile finally emerged. “Yes. Here it is. She delivered her cargo and the passengers two hours before the scheduled arrival in the Fulchrome System.” He stopped reading, but Jeremy prompted him.
“And then?”
He studied his clipboard again. “Oh, here it is. She departed on time for her return immediately after her tanks were filled and a new cargo was loaded for transport back to Bravura.”
Finally, a worthy explanation. She wasn’t supposed to have cargo on the trip home. A job must have come up on her way back. No wonder she was late. He relaxed a notch.
“Amazing. And when is she supposed to arrive with the new cargo?”
The man stopped to answer a question from a passing flight deck crew member before turning back. He looked puzzled to see Jeremy still standing there. “What else do you want?”
“When is the Mirage due to arrive?” he asked between clenched teeth.
“Let’s see.” Pursing his lips, he slowly perused the surface of the digital clipboard but remained silent.
Seriously, Jeremy was about to take violent possession of that fucking clipboard.
He tapped the surface of his screen. “Her return flight is listed as the same arrival back to Bravura with her initial flight. Her return travel time didn’t change.”
His relief was short lived. “That can’t be right.”
“Why not?” The man was distracted, looking all around the dock except at him, but Jeremy was about to help him focus if it took both fists. The really bad feeling he had in his gut all of a sudden hadn’t abated. And this joker wasn’t helping.
Jeremy snapped his fingers in front of the man’s face to help wake him up. “Because she’s not here.”
The man looked unconvinced. “Lots of things could have delayed her.”
Jeremy stifled a sigh. Not Angelica. Or she would have sent a message ahead. Then something occurred to him. “If she picked up cargo, she would have had to file an amended flight plan. Where is that?”
The man frowned, swiping several screens with on finger. “Oh. Here it is. She did file an amended plan.” He stared at it but didn’t part with any details. Seriously, Jeremy was going to strangle the man or beat him over the head with the clipboard.
“And,” he said, impatiently.
“Oh. That’s what I’m looking at. But the return travel time was re-input as being the identical. Her arrival is listed as the same on the amended flight plan.”
“That can’t be correct.”
The man frowned. “Why not?”
“If what you say is true, then she should have landed already, but she’s not here. So back to my original question. Where is she? Or, where is her further amended flight information to explain her absence in the Bravura air dock right now?” His voice had elevated with each word. Jeremy tried to calm himself, but his gut was twisting. Something was wrong. He knew it.
The man shook his head. “I have no idea where she is. All I know is that she’s not here and I don’t have any additional information. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“How about you tell me you’re on the way to go try harder to find her?” Jeremy didn’t often raise his voice, but found he lacked the willpower to remain calm. The really bad feeling he had was pounding a more strident rhythm in his chest. She should be here already. She wasn’t.
Angelica was someone who followed protocol and regulations just as rigorously as he did. If she wasn’t here, and she hadn’t amended her flight plan to a later time, then she was in trouble.
* * * *
William flinched as Parisa tended to the punctures in his side. “God’s teeth, woman!” His delectable accent was still there, even when he shouted. She liked the sound of it. They stood next to the table with the supplies, but he kept dodging her attempts to clean the wounds.
She straightened, pulling the cloth back a bit. “Hush. Don’t be such an infant. I need to clean it.”
“Well, it fucking hurts.” He dodged another attempt to thoroughly clean his injury with the cloth she held. Pulling his torso just out of her reach, he smiled when she dropped her arm. She pushed out a long, deep sigh of frustration.
“Are you going to let me do this, or not?”
His beguiling grin surfaced once more. “Not.”
Parisa threw up her hands. “I give up.” As she started to turn away to discard the pungent cloth, he latched a hand on to her forearm, effectively stilling her progress. She turned back, sending a sharp look of question his way. His gaze burned a hole through her.
Admittedly, she was not unaffected by his magnificent, manly aura. He fairly seethed with an undertone of raw sexuality. It was becoming difficult for her belligerent libido to ignore.
She was more and more curious about discovering what he was capable of in bed. The guilt of wanting a man—regardless of her previous, unknown lover—still lingered in the back of her mind. But the more time she spent in William’s company, the more the guilt was being crowded out by lustful thoughts of what if I let him just touch me once, or maybe twice.
The slim glimpse of her sexual memory intruded with sharp clarity and a rush of disgrace over the direction of her shameful thoughts zoomed across her conscious. She shouldn’t do this. She shouldn’t want this stranger so desperately.
She tried to withdraw, but he held her fast in his grip. “Release me.”
“Why? What do you fear?” His query goaded her.
“I fear nothing,” she snapped. Whatever her past—and also now that her confusion from waking in the arena had passed—Parisa knew she had strength of bearing.
With or without her memories, she was certainly no shy flower. However, William was going to be difficult to resist if he pressed any charm upon her. He’d saved her life, even with no memories, that was a huge debt to pay back for anyone.
“Come here.” He tugged her arm. “Please.”
“No. Why should I?”
His smile never wavered. “Because I said, ‘please.’”
She inched closer. “So what?” She moved another step toward him.
“So you intrigue me.” She halted her progress a mere whisper from touching her torso to his chest. The musky scent of him accompanied by the fresh-cut flower aroma hanging sedately in the room overwhelmed her senses. He pulled her against his warm muscled body, and she didn’t have the wherewithal to stop him. Her eyes drifted shut even as she crowded closer in his embrace.
“I don’t suppose I’ve earned a boon,” he whispered against her mouth.
Parisa’s eyes opened. Their gazes met and locked in simmering concentration. She could no more look away than she could stop the
breath from entering her lungs at regular intervals.
What had he asked? For a boon?
She wanted to climb atop him, plaster her lips across his mouth, open her legs wide and ride his lusty “boon” until they were both completely satisfied. However, a slim rational thought slipped through. I shouldn’t have sex with him. But a kiss would qualify as a boon, right? Then again, kissing William might be her undoing. The moment she thought it, Parisa decided she’d expire if she didn’t at least press her lips briefly to his in the next few seconds.
One little kiss would be okay, wouldn’t it?
“Perhaps a small one,” she whispered back. Their lips were nearly touching as it was.
His smiled widened. “Sorry, I don’t have anything on me that’s little. How about a big kiss?” The breath from his words brushed along her cheek, sending a riotous tingle straight to her core.
She suspected that once he kissed her, she wouldn’t be able to stop at just a little one or a big one. Truthfully, Parisa might not be able to stop even at two.
In fact, his nearness and delectable scent combined with the knowledge that he’d saved her life earlier made immediate and deeply desired penetrating physical contact damn near inescapable. The strip of naked skin beneath her breasts pressed to his bare stomach. She wanted more. Wanted a deeper connection. Wanted him to make love to her.
No. She shouldn’t. Even as the vision of sex with the other man faded in the wake of her lust for the man standing before her, Parisa resisted.
With Herculean restraint, she pushed out a slow sigh and released him from her grasp. She took two long steps backward well away from his seductive body. It almost hurt to pull herself from him. The reasons for her distance also faded in the wake of William’s masculine scent wafting in her wake.
His puzzled expression of her letting go, only lasted until she thought better of the separation and promptly launched herself at his body. She wrapped her arm around his neck and aimed her mouth at his. Their lips connected at about the same time their bodies collided once more.
William devoured her mouth, thrusting his firm tongue between her willing lips. She fairly hungered for his attention. His kiss. His cock.
Her breasts tingled and swelled even as she pressed herself closer and closer still. William wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her tighter. Soon his hands slid down to cup her ass, holding her in place so he could bury his growing cock against the warmth of her center. Being melded together simply wasn’t enough. Parisa wanted more.
With a groan, she tore her lips from his and searched their immediate location for the direction of the bed. She wanted to get comfortable.
Together they turned their heads in synchronicity to the crude sleeping surface. A thin mattress on top of a flat stone ledge jutting out from the wall was the accommodation.
Parisa pushed William backward toward the simple bed, not caring if it were comfortable or not. They just needed a place to fuck.
Two steps from the bed, William slid an arm around her waist and held her from the destination she raced to. “Not that I’m going to turn you down, but the kiss was the only boon I’d envisioned.”
“Well, I need more.” Parisa flung herself on him once more and pushed her mouth against his sculpted lips again. The flavor of his ardor was apparent in his kiss. He wanted her, too.
“I need you,” she broke away long enough to whisper. Her tongue swept back into his mouth to convince him. His cock pressed into her skirt, as if in response. She reached down and unfastened the toggles along his fly. His hips lurched forward, bumping his rigid arousal against her belly. She slipped her fingers into the opening of his pants and grasped his cock with her bare hand.
His growl of appreciation and the insistent kiss increased her ardor to near desperate levels of desire.
William secured his hands to her face and deepened the already volcanic kiss. Moments later, and without even realizing he’d moved, his fingers caressed her ribcage beneath her shirt. He pushed the garment up until her breasts slipped free. His knuckles glanced across the underside of one breast, bringing that nipple to pert attention.
The next touch was his palm glancing along the tip of her breast as his fingers rubbed and squeezed the tip of the other. The sensation was so acute, she shuddered. Her pussy lips moistened and then gushed in anticipation of what was to come next. Sex.
He broke the urgent kiss and trailed his mouth to her unattended breast. He latched onto her nipple, swirling his tongue across the surface. The suction he exerted was excruciatingly perfect. She wanted more, more, more.
She squeezed his cock again. He sucked her nipple harder even as he pinched the other tip. Tingles of desire raced through her body from his ministrations. A gush of fluid released from her pussy the scent of which even she noticed.
Her shirt was pushed up under her arms, but she was distracted by his attention to her nipples when suddenly she realized she was horizontal. One moment they were touching each other while standing, and the next, she was flat on her back alone on the bed. Her skirt had miraculously flipped above her waist in the process.
Parisa sent a startling lust-filled gaze to William’s beautiful blue eyes.
“Come here,” she commanded. Her voice had deepened as her sexual desire had increased ten-fold in the past few moments.
William smiled and bent over the bed. His head lunged toward her crotch. The second his lips fastened to her pussy and he licked her clit, she came in a wondrous glow of pleasure. Hips bucking and back arching, Parisa moaned her release long and loud. The sounds of her elation echoed off the stone walls.
Before the constrictions of her pussy subsided, William had climbed onto the bed and straddled her thighs. She locked gazes with him. His expression was that of question. His trousers were unbuttoned, now gaping open where she’d freed him.
His cock, thick and long, jutted from a thatch of dark curly hair between his muscular legs. And she wanted him inside of her.
“Please,” she said and grabbed him. His cock throbbed in her hand. He lowered his hips until his cockhead pushed inside her body. The sensation of his wide dick penetrating her with slow deliberate care sent a new friction of ecstasy along her spine and to the still-pulsating walls of her pussy.
The weight of his chest flattened her breasts with delicious pressure. At first, he moved slowly inside. It was nice, but she urged him to go faster with the uplifted surge of her hips against his. She met each thrust with one of her own.
“Harder,” she whispered. He accommodated her. His heated breath, scented with her first orgasm, rushed against the side of her head with each penetration, breathing and stroking as if in synchronized motion. Like one couldn’t happen without the other. The sweet scent of fresh-cut flowers drifted around them along with the musky flavor of sex, bolstering her desire into the stratosphere.
The friction of his movement brushed against her clit with each stroke of his cock within her body. Parisa was fast headed to another pinnacle.
William thrust deeply and groaned. He stiffened as if he’d come, sinking his cock all the way inside of her. But he didn’t stop. He pushed inside her several more times until she climaxed again.
Parisa’s back arced against the thin mattress as the second climax took her breath away. William slumped against her chest as if completely sated.
“That was amazing,” she whispered after several moments of panting like she’d run a race. The weight of his body made breathing difficult.
“Indeed,” he replied, but didn’t shift his weight.
She pushed at his chest. “Can you move, please? I’m having trouble getting a full breath.”
“Certainly.” William slid to one side, but still snuggled close. “That was an unexpected boon.”
“Did you like it?”
“I loathed it. We’ll have to do it again, right away.”
She laughed and kissed his whiskered cheek. “I’ve decided to call you Will as a nickname. William is to
o formal if we’re going have sex regularly.”
“Are we going to have sex regularly?”
“Yes. I believe we are.” The scent of their lovemaking still lingered in the air around them. The aroma of the flowers on the table next to the bed—the only other nice smell in the room—comforted her on a soul-deep level. This was the first time she’d been relaxed and content since waking up here.
Will caressed her arm lightly from shoulder to elbow with his long fingers. It added another layer of comfort to her overall mellow attitude.
The reality of what she’d done likely should have made her feel guilty, but instead of guilt, her thoughts drifted to having sex again instead. She wondered if he’d be willing to oblige her once more.
“All right.” She turned and faced him. “I’m ready for another round. I’ll try harder this time.”
His brows furrowed slightly. “I was joking.” He brushed his fingertips down the side of her face. Was that regret coloring his expression? “I most certainly did like it.”
“I’m glad. And I’m not sorry either, you know.” The sexual memory of the other faceless man in her dreams faded into the background of her mind. In the here and now, she wanted Will. She needed his help to survive, and she refused to feel guilty for wanting to stay alive in this barbaric world.
He flashed a quick grin. “Neither am I.”
Parisa leaned into his chest. She pressed her mouth to his chin, then his jaw, and then his lips. She sought more. She removed her meager clothing. She then helped Will pull his pants off, discarding them on the floor beside the bed. Now they were both naked.
This time she straddled his hips, took his cock deeply within her pussy, and rode him until satisfaction coursed through her body once more. Emblazoned by the urges she didn’t want to stop or control, Parisa reconfirmed her recent outlook. She lived for the here and now and not a forgotten past because of her less-than-optimal future.
Both groaning their satisfaction into the air simultaneously during the second round, Parisa didn’t disconnect their bodies as she slumped forward. She flattened her breasts against his heaving chest in an effort to catch her breath, knowing she’d never be sorry about this night.
Sexual Memory [Dark Colony 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 4
