Jackson (BBW Secret Baby Bear Shifter Romance) (Secret Baby Bears Book 3)

by Becca Fanning

  “Right. My apologies, Mr. Rahm,” Captain Ingram said.

  “Think nothing of it,” Sylas said with what would have been amusement if he were the type of man to have emotions. “Please, tell me a bit about your work.”

  As the captain launched into a sales pitch, Zosha looked tentatively up at Rick. Instead of the anger she had been afraid of, all she could see was affection tinged with exasperation.

  “Surprise?” she said guiltily.

  “That’s definitely what you are, yes,” he said. “Why didn’t Spinner just take care of this earlier? He certainly has the influence.”

  Zosha shook her head. “He can’t afford to take sides. It could affect the quality of information he receives. Me running was easier for both of us. I feel horrible about involving him in all of this. I’m just trouble for everyone who helps me, I guess.”

  “Sounds about right,” Rick told her warmly. “You’re worth it, though.”

  Hyde snorted but didn’t say anything.

  “Glad to hear it,” Zosha murmured, clenching her hand tighter in Rick’s to stop it from shaking. Understanding filled his gaze and he turned to his captain.

  “Leo, I think it might be best if I took Zosha back to the ship,” he said.

  Captain Ingram glanced at Sylas, who nodded.

  “Alright. Make sure you fill Annie and Dom in,” the captain told him.

  “Yeah, be sure to let Annie know that she was wrong. Killing our way in totally worked,” Custer snickered. Everyone ignored him.

  “Comm me when you’ve rested a bit, Zosha,” Spinner said. “I think you owe me an explanation.”

  “Will do,” she said and let Rick pull her out of the room.

  The guards they passed looked at them suspiciously but did nothing to hinder them, and soon they were back out in the open air.

  Zosha looked around at the devastation in the market and felt the guilt twist in her stomach. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but several stalls were obliterated and bloodstains covered the ground. Zosha didn’t want to think about what had happened to the bodies.

  Rick squeezed her hand. “If you want to blame someone for this, blame Lan Doro, or the Rahm brothers. You didn’t know what would happen.”

  “That doesn’t make it not my fault,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “Think about it like this: more people would have died if the conflict between the Rahm brothers had continued. You all but ending it here stopped that.”

  “I know. It doesn’t feel like that, though,” she told him.

  They walked in silence. Zosha kept her eyes on the ground and her hand in Rick’s. After a moment, he huffed out a laugh.

  “Did I tell you about the time I had to hide in a tree for six hours because Custer pissed off a contact so bad he sent his personal army after us?” he asked.

  Zosha felt something warm and fluttery worm its way into her stomach. “No, no you did not.”

  By the time he finished the story, Zosha’s smile was small but genuine.

  “So, what do you guys usually do after something like this?” she asked.

  “Me personally? Get drunk as hell. Why, what did you have in mind?”

  “Life-affirming sex,” she told him. “But getting drunk works too.”

  Rick stared at her for a moment, then swept her up in a bridal carry. She shrieked with laughter, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “I like your idea better,” he said, walking purposefully towards the ship.

  “Glad you see it my way,” Zosha said, giggling.

  The door to the cargo hold lowered as they approached, Annie standing at the top of the ramp and waiting for them.

  “I’m guessing things went well,” she said.

  “Yup,” Rick told her cheerfully as he walked by her. “Sylas Rahm is on board, the captain’s negotiating for work in return for the notebook now, and Zosha’s information broker is Spinner, and yes, I do mean the ‘occasionally crumbles regimes for profit’ Spinner. Also, I’m off duty for at least the next two hours.”

  “What?” Annie all but shrieked after them.

  “Ask Leo about it!” Rick called back at her, turning down the hallway for his room.

  He shifted Zosha to one arm to punch in the access code to his room. She pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, then nipped the spot where her lips had been. Rick moaned and lunged into the room almost before the door was open.

  He took three steps forward and then tossed Zosha onto the bed. She bounced once, giggling, and then he was on top of her, sliding his hands under her shirt and pressing open-mouthed kisses down her neck and along her collarbone. She arched up, pressing her breasts against his chest and hissing in pleasure.

  “God, I’ve wanted you like this since I first saw you,” he said into the hollow of her neck.

  “What, you mean when you found me hiding in your cargo hold with a nutri-pack hanging out of my mouth?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I don’t think you realize how you look in that suit,” he said. “God, no wonder you never get caught. They’re too busy staring at you to do anything.”

  A laugh bubbled out of her. “It’s just a suit.”

  “It’s so tight,” Rick told her, thumb skimming along the underside of her bra. “I just wanted to rip it off of you.”

  He slid one hand down and squeezed her ass. Zosha moaned, then tugged at his shirt.

  “Okay, naked, we need to be naked right now,” she told him. He pulled away and shucked off his shirt, then went to work on his boots.

  Zosha pulled her own clothes off with record speed and had gotten down to her underwear when Rick pushed her back onto the mattress. He kissed her, wet and hot, before sliding down the mattress to take one nipple into his mouth. Zosha let her head fall back with a breathy groan and slid one hand into his thick hair. She wrapped her legs around him and he put one hand on her thigh, the other on her waist.

  Zosha relished the warm weight of him pressing her down. She felt deliciously caught, safe in his grip.

  Rick tugged at her nipple with his teeth, drawing a gasp out of her, then kissed his way down her body until he reached the band of her panties. He looked up at her, golden eyes bright and cheeks flushed. Thumbing at the elastic over her hip, he raised an eyebrow. She nodded at the tacit question and he lowered his head to mouth at her through the cotton.

  Zosha practically squealed at the feeling, gripping his hair with both hands as her legs clamped involuntarily together. Rick pulled back to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh and sucking a bruise into the pale skin there before moving his mouth back to the damp fabric and working Zosha into a babbling mess.

  “Rick, please please please, oh my God,” she gasped out, not knowing what she was begging for but knowing she needed it.

  Rick moved away to tug her underwear off, then nudged her legs apart and pressed his tongue to her swollen, dripping slit.

  Zosha nearly howled at the sensation, her brain whiting out. Her world narrowed to his mouth. Distantly, she realized that the room definitely wasn’t soundproof, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  Rick ran one finger teasingly over her entrance, then slipped inside her. He flicked his tongue over her hypersensitive flesh and gave her a moment to adjust before adding a second finger and working her open.

  Zosha lay back, sobbing for breath already, and taking in the feeling of him on and in her. Stars danced across her visions as her blood turned to fire. She could feel her climax beginning to build and she tugged at his hair until he pulled back to look up at her.

  “I’m ready, I want you now,” she told him, somehow managing to get the words out despite the fact her brain had long since turned to mush.

  Rick jackknifed up her body, settling between her legs. Zosha gasped as she felt his erection press against her thigh, hot and solid. He kissed her and she opened her mouth to him, tasting herself on his tongue.

  “Can I?” he asked her, running a hand up and down her thigh
.

  She nodded frantically and forced herself to relax as he reached down and lined himself up with her.

  The initial stretch of his cock inside her seemed to force all the air out of the room. She stared into his eyes, irises just a golden outline of his pupils, blown huge and dark. He hovered over, muscles tight, letting her adjust. After a moment, she rolled her hips experimentally, making them both moan.

  He began to thrust into her, slowly at first and then harder as she locked her ankles at the small of his back.

  “You’re so good,” he groaned into her ear. “You feel so good.”

  Zosha just whined in response, well past the point of coherent speech. The heat in her stomach had turned to electricity and she could feel her orgasm begin to spark.

  Wrapping one arm under Rick’s shoulder and the over his neck, she let herself fall apart under him, pleasure arching her back and pressing her flush against him.

  She let her head fall back as a river of white fire swept through her veins, burning through everything that wasn’t the feeling of Rick rutting into her or the heat of his skin.

  She came back to herself slowly, sparks of pleasure almost too intense to handle flickering to life as Rick continued to drive himself into her oversensitive body.

  “Shit,” Rick muttered as his hips stuttered. He tucked his face into Zosha’s neck as his rhythm broke down, fucking her hard and fast. He pulled out of her with a groan and reached down to stroke himself. Zosha felt something warm splash across her belly and Rick collapsed on the mattress beside her.

  They stayed like that for a moment, breathing heavily, sweat gleaming in the artificial light.

  “So,” Zosha started when she got enough breath back to speak. “Worth fighting a squad of mercenaries for?”

  Rick chuckled and leaned over to press his lips to hers.

  She curled into his side and ran her fingers over his stomach, feeling the muscles flex under her touch.

  “Come with us,” Rick said. “Leo will let you. You’re a fantastic asset. Annie’s fond of you and the others will get used to it. I don’t want to say goodbye to you yet.”

  Zosha considered it. She thought about the asteroid where she’d lived her entire life: all of its flaws and all of its strengths. About the neon lights she’d grown up under. She thought about never seeing the place that held all of her memories again.

  She thought about her future in the stars.

  “I’m in,” she said softly.

  She and Rick stared at each other, grinning like idiots, until the intercom crackled to life.

  “So, uh…” the captain’s voice said. “You done in there yet?”

  Zosha was too blissed out to be mortified, so she just turned her face towards the pillow and giggled. Rick kissed her cheek and reached over her to press a button on the intercom.

  “Just teaching her how to fire a gun, Captain,” he said in a tone that implied he was referencing something. Someone snickered on the other side of the line.

  “Well, put it back in the holster, cowboy, some of us are trying to work. And not vomit everywhere. Shut it, Custer,” he added when the cackling grew louder.

  “Understood,” Rick said and dropped back down on the bed.

  He pulled Zosha to him and wrapped an arm around her waist. She smiled, leaning on his broad chest and tracing her fingers lightly over the seam where the metal of his prosthetic legs met flesh.

  “Does it hurt?” she asked him.

  “Nope. Feel free to keep groping me,” Rick answered. “So, how does it feel to be an almost-official member of the Breakwater?”

  Zosha’s grin threatened to split her face in two. “It feels perfect.”

  Breakwater: Custer

  Star Bears III

  by

  Becca Fanning

  Delphine came to slowly, blinking as the light hit her oversensitive eyes.

  The edges of her vision were fuzzy and there was a bitter taste in her mouth, barely detectable under the dry, cottony feeling coating her tongue. She didn’t bother trying to move, recognizing the signs of being sedated and feeling the cool metal restraints around her wrists and ankles.

  She was sitting in what was, as far as she could tell, a cargo hold. The chair she was in was apparently strapped to a wall, and there were at least three other people in the room with her. A slight, black-haired woman stood next to a tall brunette, leaning into him. The two were talking to someone out of her line of sight and Delphine didn’t want to turn her head, feeling nauseous. Thanks to the dossiers she had been provided, she identified the people in front of her as Zoshanna Kane and Richard Chapel. The third person sounded feminine, which would make her Anyanka Heathcoat.

  Delphine’s vision cleared slowly, enough so that she could see Kane’s eyes widening as she noticed her captive was awake. She tugged at Chapel’s sleeve, pointing.

  “Annie, get the captain,” he said, straightening his shoulders. “She’s awake.”

  “About time,” the third voice, now confirmed as Heathcoat, huffed. “Shoot her if she tries anything.”

  There was the mechanical swish of a door opening and closing. Delphine ignored it, wondering if she could break through her cuffs. Two of her three primary targets were in the room with her and the third would be on his way down shortly. Even if she didn’t get off the ship alive, she could complete her mission.

  She ran over what she knew about the two. Kane was a former street rat, surviving mainly due to her abilities as a thief. No kills that anyone was aware of, favored escape over combat. An easy target. Chapel posed more of a risk; Delphine was fully aware of her own capabilities, but if she couldn’t neutralize him before he shifted she would be at a disadvantage. If she was going to kill them, she needed to do it swiftly, starting with Chapel and finishing before Captain Ingram reached the bay.

  The only thing in her way were the fucking cuffs.

  She tugged at them, but even with her genetically enhanced strength they held. The chair creaked under her but didn’t give.

  Chapel smiled at her. Or, he moved his lips in a way that revealed quite a few of his teeth. The expression held precious little warmth, which confirmed the suspicions the dossier had provided Delphine with that he and Kane were romantically involved. The bruise on the thief’s cheek was ugly and mottled. Delphine wouldn’t have been surprised if her blow had broken her cheekbone.

  “Good morning,” Chapel said in a pleasant tone, the kind that generally came before a significant amount of pain. “We have a few questions for you.”

  Delphine remained silent, years of experience keeping her face in a neutral expression.

  “I can see you don’t want to talk to us,” he continued. “That’s understandable. Unfortunately, we can’t really let you just sit there either. See, if it were up to me, you’d have a blaster bolt turning your brain into about three pounds of superheated mush. But since we don’t want a repeat performance of what just happened on the docks, we need you to tell us what we want to know.”

  Mistake, mistake, mistake. If Delphine were further from the fog of the sedatives they’d used on her, or less well trained, she’d laugh in his face. Letting your prisoner know they weren’t going to be getting out alive was a misstep. People wanted to believe there was a chance they could live, and removing that made them less willing to talk. What would the point be? Obviously, they were threatening her with torture if she didn’t cooperate, which was another mistake. Even with her training, Delphine was fully aware that everyone, including her, eventually broke under torture. That didn’t mean anyone in the crew had the capability to reach her threshold. She’d read all their files. They were smuggler, thieves, and, when the situation called for it, killers. They weren’t seasoned interrogators.