
Mirror Image
Bonnie Dee and Mima
Published 2010
ISBN 978-1-59578-674-6
Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2010, Bonnie Dee and Mima. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Liquid Silver Books
http://LSbooks.com
Email:
raven@LSbooks.com
Editor
Devin Govaere
Cover Artist
Lyn Taylor
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Blurb
When Agent Mara Brannigan struts into a low-rent bar on a mission to seduce and apprehend a pair of fugitives from the government, she doesn't count on being the one caught in the snare of seduction.
Captain Frederick Ravenscraft has been duplicated during a rare space storm. Now the two versions of the sexy space trader disagree over which of them is the original and which of them is in charge. Two unique, heated kisses and one bar brawl later, Mara wakes up. On their ship, in their care.
Still, she's used to ever-changing field conditions, so why not make use of them? Two sexy interludes and one deadly alien attack later, she's shocked to discover these men are more than just her marks. Mara needs to do some fast talking to meet the needs of her heart and her job. Her Captains are a matched set of hardheads. Will she get through to them, or will she be forced to make a choice between love and duty?
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Double your pleasure.
Her gaze magnetically sealed to the matched pair across the bar. Most everyone in the place kept stealing glances at them, so it wasn't like she'd reveal they were her targets. The tall, auburn-haired, leather-jacketed, testosterone-laden specimens of manhood were speaking intensely and occasionally jabbing a finger into each other's heavy shoulders.
Crossing her long, bare legs, she swung them idly from the tall barstool. It was nearly impossible not to gawk, to study them and search for some tiny differences between the arguing men. Hard to tell in the dim light, but it appeared as if Captain A had a scar marking the side of his face while Captain B's hair was definitely longer, falling past the upturned collar of his jacket. What must it be like? Two of her would be weird.
Double your fun.
The words of the nonsensical nursery rhyme passed down from the Old Days revolved incessantly in Mara's mind. She drew a deep breath and shifted on the faux-wood bar stool, trying to relieve the tension building between her legs. Her pussy felt as soft and pliable as plastique and just as likely to explode given the right igniter.
Focus. She was here on the small moon of Bonmim to apprehend her quarry, not get turned on by them. She didn't want to be here, all dressed up for sex she wouldn't get. Alone as usual. She loved her job, and was proud of it, but lately the pace had been getting to her. She needed a vacation. She wanted someone to talk to, and someone to have sex with, and the isolation hollowing her ribs was pathetic. Seducing these hardheads into leaving the bar with her was part of the plan, but she mustn't be taken in by her own performance. They were double cute, double interesting, and she was double lonely.
No, the seduction was for show. The men were likely to fight if cornered so she couldn't apprehend them in a room full of people. But it shouldn't be too difficult to get one or preferably both of them to follow her outside where she could politely read them their rights then escort them to Rasedule where the Capitol Science Headquarters of Theory and Energy was located.
Not difficult at all, especially as both men simultaneously noticed her and stared with smoldering, dark eyes that peeled off her I-wanna-have-fun clothes from across the room. Mara longed to slip off the confining little black dress that lifted her sensitive breasts and rubbed too roughly against her feverish skin. Damn, it was like she'd been caught in a radiation shower, as if her very bones were melting. If the men's mere scrutiny could do that, think of what their roaming hands or mouths could do.
Double your pleasure.
She turned her attention back to her drink, sucking deeply on the straw impaling the icy blue confection. The slush cooled her throat but the alcohol warmed her blood even more. Mara waited, gazing around the bar at other people, making eye contact with other men. A young blond was notable for the return heat he sent her. Here she was, just an ordinary woman on the make. She ignored the empty cavern of her echoing heart. Here she was, just an ordinary agent who hadn't even seen her friends face-to-face in over a year.
A moment later, two blue Molten Icecaps were plunked down on the bar in front of her. She could tell by the dense cobalt at the base these were fully loaded. Drinking on a job was against her rules. It was common sense.
"Courtesy of the gentlemen over there," the bartender said. He paused before turning away. "I'd watch out for those two, miss. Lot of trouble."
"Really?" She looked at her quarry again, nodding her acknowledgement of the drinks, meeting the two pairs of sizzling eyes. "Happens to be I'm looking for trouble. You can let them know that for me if you'd like."
The Moltens were her favorite. How lucky for her. She pulled one closer and took a deep drag of the spicy slush.
The bartender shrugged. "All right, lady, but don't say I didn't warn you."
After he walked away, the blond man she'd smiled at came up beside her. "Hello. I see I moved too slowly and somebody's already bought you drinks. How about I break tradition and buy you a bag of pretzels instead?"
The man flashed a charming grin. If she hadn't been on a mission, Mara might have taken him up on the offer and taken him home later that evening. He was the kind of young, obedient and energetic partner she liked. But of course she was on a mission, same as she had been for the last ten years.
He angled his shoulders, blocking her view. Then again, the captains eclipsed every other man in the room. If she really was on the make, maybe she'd take a gamble on a less dependable date. Maybe she'd truly hit on her targets, if she was feeling really frisky. Which she was. The blond was in the way. She needed the stools beside her left empty.
"You're very sweet. Thanks, but sorry, I'm expecting someone." She smiled her firm, polite smile then let him know with her eyes that she meant it.
With a nod, the guy retreated back to his buddies at a nearby table.
Mara took another long pull on her straw, draining her glass, and an ice headache threatened. What the hell was taking them so long to move in? Restlessly, she stretched her neck and checked out the decor. This bar was the latest in historical reproductions. The synth walls were uneven brown slabs, supposedly like massive plants that had been cut and nailed together. Old names written in glowing tube lighting were scattered behind the bar. Her favorite was one the same color as her Molten drink. It read "Miller Time." Whatever that was. Maybe it was the frustrating amount of time between the Copied Captains giving her yummy drinks and getting their big firm bodies over here. She stole a look at the men.
The scarred guy was looking back at her, fucking her with his gaze, while his longer-haired twin berated him with an angry scowl furrowing his brows. Mara could guess what they were fighting about now. She angled her crossed legs higher, revealing more toned thigh, and draped her arm along the back of the tall chair, exposing her generous breasts. She stared at the bottles lining the wall behind the counter, licked her lips with lazy confidence, and waited some more. Unfortunately, the wait began to feel less predatory agent-in-waiting, and more flat-out sexual anticipation. The Molten Blue sizzled down her throat.
She felt them before she saw them, two hot bodies bracketing her on either side. Standing as tall as she did, she appreciated large men. The scarred captain slid onto the stool on her left.
His shaggy-haired mate asked permission. "Is this seat taken?"
She inclined her head. "Please, sit."
The very vibration of the air changed with their commanding presences surrounding her. Her nipples tingled and her sex clenched in response to their proximity. Mara sat up straighter on her stool, squeezing her thighs tight.
Double your fun.
All right. A closer visual scan confirmed these were her subjects. In their traditional flight jackets with tough gray canvas pants below, they certainly would be the subject of some memories when she was alone, again, in her own bunk. Time to get them outside.
She took a sip of one of the drinks waiting in front of her before turning to the longer-haired man, the one who'd bothered to ask before sitting down. "You probably get tired of hearing this, but you and your twin are extremely identical."
"Yeah, you're right. We do get tired of hearing that," the scarred one answered bluntly.
Mara could see him from the corner of her eye, leaning forward over his crossed arms on top of the bar, jockeying for her attention. He didn't like being ignored.
His reflection shrugged. "Inevitable. People are curious."
She glanced at the other. "Well, I don't want to be like everybody else so I'll drop the subject." But she truly was dying to know. Maybe it was her disappointment that made her poke at them. "You've probably spent your whole lives fending off questions about what it's like to be twins. I can imagine it would get annoying."
"You have no idea," Scar said.
"Thanks for the drinks, by the way." She took a deep, delicious pull. The chill against her tongue made her aware of their heat.
"Our pleasure." The shaggy handsome one dipped his head.
"Do you actually like those things?" The equally handsome one on her left gestured to her glass.
Eyeing the tall glasses, Mara was dismayed at the mostly empty state of all three. Unfortunately, she liked them too much. Luckily, she was only ten minutes from tagging and bagging the sexy duplicates.
She ignored his question and indicated the half-filled glass of amber-colored liquid in his hand. "What are you drinking?"
Without waiting for a reply, she lifted her finger to get the barkeep's attention. "Another round for my friends here."
"What's your name?" Scar asked.
"Mara Smith," she lied. Wouldn't do to have him somehow search up Agent Brannigan before he was in custody. "And who might you two gentlemen be?"
"Frederick," they answered in stereo.
The longer-haired one grimaced. "Red," he snapped. "Guess I'm stuck with the cute nickname. But then you have to go by Derrick."
"Damn it, Red---"
"No. We've been through this. Both of us use the nicks. It's my name, too."
Shaggy Red clenched his jaw, and the two shared such a heated look she wondered if she shouldn't get out of their way. It was hard to play with her straw and not stare in fascination at what they revealed through their bickering. How did they expect her to buy the "twins" line when they practically admitted to being the same person right in front of her? And why did two guys who were the same person come across as so very, fascinatingly different?
Taking a swig and pretending to commune with the taste, she turned to study Red. Mara examined the sexy waves of his thick dark brown hair. She liked the way it gleamed with rich russet highlights even in the bar's subdued lighting.
"Not really red, though, more of a deep auburn." She turned the subject to a less personal note, impatient with the game of social chitchat before she could seem ready for sex. After all, despite her ulterior motive, she was ready for them from her first view of wide shoulders above tight asses. "What do you do for a living?"
"Interplanetary traders," Derrick replied. "You need transport---We carry."
"We're only docked here for the night. We'll be leaving by dawn." Red leaned on one elbow and regarded her with solemn dark eyes. "It's hard to make new friends when we spend so little time in any one place."
It sounded like a wanderer's pickup line, but Mara believed he was sincere. There was a wistful tone in his voice and his eyes didn't lie in their regret. That he happened to stab right into her cavernous discontent was eerie.
"A person can live somewhere all their life and find it just as difficult to make a connection." She wasn't sure if she was playing him or telling the truth---a hazard of her occupation when lies were best mixed with reality. The second real Molten Icecap was making it hard to tell the difference, but it felt like the truth.
Red's eyes drew her in, wrapping her in understanding that made her dizzy.
Laughing at herself, Mara turned to Derrick, who watched her with a more predatory gaze. The dizziness morphed into trembling thighs. His eyes were just as honest. They said, "Sex. Now."
Double your pleasure.
"What about you?" she asked. "Ever get tired of traveling?"
He shrugged. "Sometimes, but I couldn't imagine doing anything else besides captaining my ship."
"Our ship," Red interrupted.
Wow, they couldn't contain their hostility for a moment. "Moving around works for me. Couldn't settle into one little corner of the universe." She licked her lips when Red's gaze swung to her and softened. The lines at the corner of his dark eyes were really nice. "If you get tired of floating the black, you could always go back to your relatives, start something new." Even though the thought of doing so herself left her with hives. Move in with Mom, Aunty, and Gram with their mechanic business? She shivered. They'd kill each other within an orbit.
Red answered her question. "My mom died a while ago and my dad was never really part of the picture. Can't say I'm close to any relatives."
"Except your brother," Mara suggested.
"Er, yeah."
She nodded, amused and fighting not to show it. She wanted to settle in and enjoy these two all night. They were awesome eye candy and intriguing people. The urge set off alarm bells in her, and she wondered how she could maneuver her quarry out the door. Move along, horny agent lonely lips. She didn't need any more convincing that Derrick and Red were the Captains Frederick Ravenscraft she sought. But right now her brain was a little iced over from too much blue slushy. What she'd needed tonight was not a mission, but some much deserved R and R. How long had it been since she'd simply relaxed and enjoyed herself?
Double your fun with double good, double fresh, double strong cum.
"What about you?" Red asked.
"Excuse me?" Her mind boomeranged back from the ridiculous place it had gone.
"What do you do for a living? You sure as hell don't look like you come from around here."
"A local told me where to go for fun on this moon. I travel, too. My job takes me all over. I guess you could say I'm a troubleshooter for my company." No need to mention that her company was the Unified Galactic Agency, or that her troubleshooting was not exactly of a corporate nature. In fact, it was often her literal job.
"So you're only stopping here for a night, too?" Derrick's question was innocent enough, but his tone was saturated with sex and his intent couldn't have been clearer.
Red shot him a glare before returning his attention to Mara. "Ignore my, uh, brother. Subtlety isn't his strong suit."
"Not mine either," she said. "When ships pass in the night, there's not always time for more than a callout from either deck." She looked directly into his eyes with amorous invitation then swung her gaze to Derrick. "Sometimes you have to throw a line fast if you're going to do it at all." She was a good agent. But this time, it wasn't her skill with lies that made the words sound so good.
She abruptly wished the banter was real. That she wasn't going to go out in the lot with both Captain Fredericks and cart them off to the waiting science facility. It wasn't just that she was tired, and they were hot. They seemed like interesting guys she might like to get to know, even after the sheets had cooled. There was a connection here, and it really sucked she couldn't explore it with her tongue.
Derrick bent toward her, his mouth only inches from hers. She could smell the whiskey on his breath, malted and mellow compared to the sizzling drinks she'd been downing. "I'd be happy to toss you a line right now, sweetheart, if you're ready to catch it."
He leaned closer, bridging the distance between them and his hot mouth settled over hers. Mara automatically closed her eyes and yielded to the pressure of his kiss. This was what she'd been longing for since before she'd walked into the bar tonight. If she were honest, this touch had ignited the first time she'd opened their file and seen the sexy pair she was supposed to apprehend. This was the rest and recreation she'd been denied by her superiors for too long as they'd sent her crisscrossing the galaxy on one assignment after another.
She tilted her head, parted her lips and slipped her tongue out to meet Derrick's. His warm hand cupped her jaw and his long fingers curved around the back of her neck. For a moment, Mara was lost in the kiss. The bar, the counterpart and the assignment were all forgotten as her mouth melted and burned.
"Hey." An annoyed growl interrupted her blissful floating.
Derrick's thumb rubbed her throat in a firm, nearly possessive sweep before he let her go. She opened her eyes, only to find that his were closed. She turned to face the other Ravenscraft.
"You have other options, lovely Mara of the lovely black dress." Red swooped in to take up where his partner had left off, kissing her out of her senses. It wasn't far to go. Between the drinks and her banked libido, Mara wanted to be driven. She would resume her professional demeanor when they were outside, but for now, she'd indulge in some harmless kissing.
Or not so harmless. Her body overreacted to the sensuous caress of Red's mouth. If her skin had felt mildly feverish before, it now seemed like a forest fire was blazing across her flesh. She curled her hand over his broad shoulder and held on as he plundered her mouth with his. The lips felt similar. He even tasted similar, but he wasn't kissing the same. Where the other had been a confident taking, this kiss had desperation underneath, a need she recognized.
Her pussy clenched and released in rhythmic spasms and her nipples pressed hard and sharp against her dress as if they'd cut through the material to get out. She moaned quietly and opened her mouth wider, accepting Red's plunging tongue, eager to ease him.
"Enough. This is bullshit." Derrick's voice interrupted her this time, breaking her from her trance of lust. Mara pulled away from the clone's arms around her back and blinked as she sat up straight.
"What's it going to be?" Derrick demanded. "Me?"
"Or me?" Red offered, smirking with confidence that she'd choose him.
Mara looked back and forth between them, taking in every detail of the identical faces: the long, aquiline noses, the unruly locks curling over their foreheads, the high cheekbones, firm chins and full mouths that kissed so well. Their eyes were dark and narrow, heavily lashed, with life lines fanning from their corners. She briefly scanned their broad shoulders and lanky bodies, each a perfect mirror image of the other except for Derrick's blue undershirt and Red's black. She imagined their large hands touching and stroking her all over.
"Both." She was as breathless as if she'd run the light-years from Bonmim to Rasedule and back again. "I choose both. But we should go someplace a little more private." If only. Her pussy squeezed with outrage over her lie.
Both men were off their stools in a shot.
"Where did you have in mind?"
"Our ship is parked outside."
"Or maybe you were thinking of your hotel room?"
"Whichever you prefer."
Given their clear hostility to each other, she'd half expected more contention over the idea of sharing her, but in less than two minutes, the two men were escorting her to the door.
The bar was built in a cul-de-sac, intended to appear like a primitive rural outpost. In front was an open "field" in which both land and air vehicles were haphazardly parked. The ground was dyed green, and had a comfortable sponge-synth that gave beneath weight, supposedly like dirt. All around the little field, decorative metal grass clusters hid powerslides, and tall blue-shining metal buildings loomed.
Bonmim was a successful moon, with a warren of streets on multiple levels. This level was not one of the more prosperous, although the cute repro was obviously trying. Mara had been hard-pressed to track the Ravenscrafts here. Only when she happened to scan an update from Bonmim's beat police on a Watch and Warn about combative identical twins asked to leave another tavern had she found the right area. She'd cruised the local bars questioning people, and eventually found the right bar. Unfortunately for them, tall, muscular twins were unique.
Now here she was, seconds away from fulfilling her duty. She had to handle this carefully. The men weren't criminals, just non-responders to a required scientific summons. She would formally inform the duo of her intent to escort them to UGA headquarters, and only if they refused would she introduce force if necessary. In the meantime that meant no threat by firearm or taser, no slapping on of cuffs. But these guys weren't going to want to come with her. She had no doubt of that. The explaining part would have to come after the apprehension---which she wasn't supposed to call an arrest. Her double pleasure Captains hadn't actually done anything wrong, after all.
The atmo was warm, the air misted with blooming floral scent. Although the bar had played current, hip music on the interior, on the exterior they continued the charade with a recording of peeping and hissing that supposedly was a recording of birds and insects. Her spiked shoes combined with the synth-sponge flooring to put a deep, slow sway in her stride. Two large, hot men walked on either side of her and her heart pounded from desire as much as from anxiety at their impending arrest. Couldn't she take a minute...ok, just another few minutes to indulge in what any red-blooded woman wanted on a sultry summer evening such as this? If she kissed them, let them kiss her for a while, then presented her case, maybe she would be more likely to get the men to listen.
The pair was the product of a rare space anomaly, a glitch in the space-time continuum and had miraculously survived... duplicated. They required further study. Surely she could get Derrick and Red to understand what they owed to science. Perhaps there were applications to derive from their experience that might benefit the human race. And it wasn't even like the study would impact them in any significant way, despite their belligerent responses to the several summonses they'd been issued. Their adamant evasion to come in was quaint, and sexy in a rebellious, independent way, but also hopeless.
She came even with her rented ship and stopped walking. The men stopped too. Derrick's eyes were on her chest, and when she met Red's eyes, she had to hesitate. Her gut twisted to think of erasing his current warm appreciation with hurt and betrayal. It was ridiculous. She was ridiculous, worrying about the feelings of a scientific anomaly.
"Listen. I don't think I know you well enough to simply go off with you to your ship," she said. "What if we take a moment here and---"
"Hey, Ravenscraft!" A small man flanked by some hulking guys emerged from the shadow of a parked jet. The group formed a loose semi-circle around Mara and her quarry, blocking them from moving forward. She gritted her teeth. Was the entire universe conspiring against a girl getting a measly kiss?
The man in the dapper, old-fashioned suit jacket approached the captains. "I'm not happy with the state of the cargo you delivered. I'm going to need some recompense for the damages."
"Sorry," Red said. "You'll have to take that up with your seller."
Derrick glared at the disgruntled man. "We off-loaded the shipment in the same condition as it was loaded into our hold. We're not responsible for any errors in content or quality. Like he said, take it up with your supplier."
"He's not here. You are." The man didn't move but his flunkies shifted menacingly forward. "So how about I collect from you and you see if you can get Flunderson to reimburse you later?"
"Not going to happen." Derrick moved closer to Red, the pair of them squaring up to fight. They automatically stepped in front of Mara, shielding her from potential danger.
If you only knew, she thought. But this was their situation, not hers. She'd keep her weapon holstered and let them deal with this state of affairs in their own way. As long as it looked like the hulking five wouldn't damage her merchandise. She faded back a step and felt the cold metal of her starcoaster behind her.
"What are you going to do to stop me?" the man demanded. "Go to the law? I don't think so. I hear tell you been the subject of some invitations you been dodging."
"Don't need the law. We'll handle this ourselves."
Mara wasn't sure which Ravenscraft was speaking since their backs were to her and the timbre of their deep voices was the same. With two against five, the words sounded like a boast, but she guessed they could handle themselves in a fight even when outmatched.
"No need for violence. Just pay me and you and your lady friend can be on your way." The dapper man's voice was as slick as oil.
"No way," one of the Fredericks said.
Mara's gaze flicked from one of the bodyguards to another. Her fingers itched to draw her weapon, but no one else was going for firepower, which would trigger the Watch. Evidently they were going to handle this in the classic way, hand to hand, because one bull-shouldered monster lumbered toward Red and clocked him across the jaw, snapping his head to the side.
All of the flunkies surged forward then and the two captains stood back to back, taking them on. Derrick ducked a blow and drove his shoulder into his opponent's gut, knocking him backward. Red swept out a booted foot and took his attacker's legs out from under him. Spinning around, he punched another bodyguard in the nose. Blood gushed from the man's shattered face.
Impressive. They didn't seem to need help. Mara stood beside the tiny blue ship with her hands loose and ready by her sides---just in case. The "just in case" came at her fast. One of the four bodyguards ran past Derrick when he stepped aside. Momentum carried him right at Mara. He barreled toward her. Falling away, she grabbed the back of his jacket to help him past her. His head sent a sonorous BONG across the field as it bounced off the coaster. He staggered, stunned. She brought up her knee into his crotch. As he bent over, she chopped her joined fists down on the back of his neck, sending him to the ground. He writhed at her feet, groaning, and she kicked him in the throat to ensure he'd stay down.
"Mara!" Red had noticed her danger and looked toward her, but his lack of focus was a mistake. The moustached, burly guy landed a flurry of blows that drove Red to his knees.
Meanwhile, Derrick was beating on the tow-headed man in the too-small jacket. But even with one of the goons still gasping for breath on the ground with the imprint of her shoe in his neck, the odds of this combat were a bit lopsided---four against two.
She couldn't stand watching Red get hammered anymore. Mara darted forward to help him out from under the two slabs of flesh that were pounding him. She whipped off the thin, gold belt that accented her waist and wrapped it around Moustache's neck. She had to ride the mountainous man, knees digging into his waist, in order to reach his throat and pull the belt tight.
Her chokehold made him abandon pummeling Red to struggle with the garrote cutting into his windpipe. He flailed out with one arm in an attempt to get Mara off his back, but his grip gouging into her thigh couldn't loosen her hold. The man staggered and stumbled backward. Mara knew what he was doing an instant before it happened. He slammed her into the nearest vehicle, smashing her body against the metal side of a skyrover. BONG! Now it was her turn to be the bell.
Her ribs compressed and she gasped for breath. He pressed her harder, squeezing her with his greater weight. She wouldn't let go of the gold cord that was cutting into his throat. Almost... Moustache wheezed and gurgled. With his last bit of strength, he slammed Mara into the vehicle again.
Her neck snapped back and her head hit a sharp corner of the cruiser. Lights strobed in her vision as a bolt of pain shot through her. Then everything went dark.
Mara drifted into consciousness through a gray fog. Her head ached and her ribs were sore. Hell, she hated old fashioned fighting. Give a girl a distance weapon any day. She opened her eyes to stare at the two blobs suspended above her. It took a few seconds to focus enough to recognize features and identify them as faces. Derrick and Red Ravenscraft were gazing down at her. And they were arguing again.
"I think we should take her to a doctor," Red said.
"Are you crazy? We can't go back to Bonmim. She'll be okay until we make our next stop. The med unit said only a mild concussion and bruises."
"She wouldn't have been injured if it weren't for us. We need to make sure she's all right."
"And we will. Just as soon as we land on Delteila."
"What happened?" Mara weakly demanded, although the answer seemed quite clear. One glance told her they were on board a ship and from the thrum of the engine they were in motion. This would be their trader, a nightcrater suited for solo flights.
"Sorry, we're not kidnapping you, but we had to get away from Lattimer and his men. They probably won't follow us out of Quadrant Eleven airspace, but we need to keep moving and can't take you back." Derrick touched the side of her face, a soft stroke of his fingers that almost made her forget her throbbing head.
"Why don't you go to the authorities if he's trying to make you pay something you don't owe?" She tried to sit and her head spun.
Red rubbed a welt on his cheek. "The goods weren't exactly something we could move through customs. A little illegal, but nothing like drugs or arms. We don't do that."
Derrick added, "Red, you got a damn big mouth. There was no reason to tell her that. You'll make us out to be contraband runners and we aren't... Usually. It's just that lately there's an annoying warrant on us for questioning, and it's been making it tough to get legit jobs."
He helped her sit, supporting her shoulders, while Red offered her a bottle of power water. Mara guzzled the enzyme-infused fluid and started to feel better almost immediately.
"Guys," she moaned. Oh man, when the other agents heard she'd been whisked away by her marks, she'd never live it down. "I have an agenda. I can't simply go pleasure riding with you two till we reach the nearest planet." Oh, how she regretted her choice of words the second they were out of her mouth.
Derrick smirked, the double meaning not lost on him.
Red chose to ignore her unfortunate phrasing. "We're sorry. It can't be helped, but we'll pay to send you back to Bonmim as soon as we dock. It's only a day jump."
But meanwhile I'm on your turf. She could just imagine trying to explain herself and apprehending them here on their own ship.
Let me reintroduce myself. I'm Special Agent Mara Brannigan and I've tracked you down to bring you to the Unified Galactic Agency so they can study your anomaly. Be good citizens, Captains Ravenscraft. Want to come along without a fight?
Her stomach curdled. No. She didn't want to humiliate them like that. Red's confession aside, they weren't criminals, and the UGA was asking for an intrusive study that must seem suspicious to them.
Oh yes, her mission had just become surprisingly more complicated---she glanced from one man's handsome face to the other---and more intriguing.
Frederick "Red" Ravenscraft sat in the darkened common room, only the cream glow of the mess lights shining. He slumped on the couch, and wondered if he'd felt this alone before the damned ridge storm had sprung up in the corona cloud where he'd been taking a "shortcut."
Or had it been Derrick taking that run, surprised by the once-in-a-millennium storm? Raising his mug, he sipped his creamcafe. He licked his lips. It was smooth, comforting. Derrick would of course say that he was the original, the "real" Frederick. And when Frederick began to feel exhausted by the argument after a few weeks, he'd agreed to let himself be called "Red."
Frederick thrust out his stocking feet and stretched, then crossed his ankles. The argument hadn't ended when he'd switched his name. Derrick hated everything about him. At first the feeling had been mutual, but lately... lately it hurt. It hurt to be denied and rebuffed and attacked and living in constant hostility with his literal other half. Or mirror half. Or twin. Or whatever they were.
Derrick's boots rang decisively in the corridor. As usual. When one of them couldn't sleep, the other couldn't either. Red leaned his head back, letting the warmth of the mug seep into his hands. He breathed deep, waiting for the criticism, the sniping words. As if he wasn't tired through to his bones also.
But Derrick surprised him. "We have to talk."
Frederick opened his eyes and watched Derrick, with his short, perfectly trimmed hair and his belligerent scar, make his own drink. Darkcafe. Harsh and bitter. He took a sip of his own smooth drink, and knew that before the storm, he'd only rarely added cream.
Derrick unlatched a chair from the table and pulled it over, straddling it. "I want her."
"I want her, too," Frederick admitted, "but things have changed. She's no longer a fun night at the bar. We took her against her will, and it wouldn't be right to pressure her for sex while she's wounded and in our care."
"She wants us."
Red nodded, remembering the thrill the first time he'd seen her curves, barely covered by that black dress. It had been Derrick who'd seen her first, because it had been the tingle of pleasure in Frederick's spine telling him his double was turned on that made him look around the bar. Then the lightning strike when she'd hinted she'd be agreeable to taking them both to bed. They'd never shared before. They'd occasionally enjoyed the same woman, or swapped when they were done, but never shared at the same time. Frederick ached at the thought, his dick swelling. He'd like to be that close to Derrick, to work in that kind of partnership. He'd thought about it already. It would be a way to share with his other self. Maybe the only way.
Reluctantly, Red urged his inappropriate boner to subside. "Mama didn't raise me to take advantage of a woman. She was already having second thoughts when we walked her out. You heard what she said right before Lattimer showed up."
"Don't mention my mama!" Derrick snarled.
This, too, was an old argument. Of all the things Red could say, any reminder that they shared all the same memories seemed to enrage Derrick.
"I want to give the ship to you." The words slipped out, shocking him. To cover, he raised his creamcafe and took a deep gulp.
Derrick stared at him in silence, his face mostly in shadow, his eyes dark pits. "Red. Why?"
Hearing Derrick use his nickname was bittersweet. It was a recognition and a denial all in the same breath. "Because I'm tired of the space game. And two of us are causing too much speculation. The UGA isn't going to back off unless one of us disappears. Tell them I died, that I just went "poof" one day."
In the early days, there'd been no consideration of hiding. They'd both been so adamant that it was their right to exist. They'd gone on about their business, stubbornly refusing to admit what a sensation suddenly emerging as an identical twin was when there was a perfectly clear birth record of not being a twin.
"I would like to go into a bar and know the people's names. And they'd know mine." Frederick. "And I'd like to have a family." Warm comfort that wanted to hold him. Maybe even a little bundle of laughter, something that came from only him. Something to take care of and watch grow and be proud of.
Derrick turned his mug in his grip. "This is a good business. We have a strong reputation."
We. The word rang in the darkness.
"Do we?" Red asked softly.
Derrick burst up from his chair. He strode over to the hall and looked down it.
Red knew he wasn't gazing at the other end room, Control, but at their stateroom off to the right.
Derrick took a swig from his darkcafe. "I won't pressure her, but I'm going to ask. And if she's turned on by me, I'm following through. I'll be gentle. But I want her. She's not the typical barfly."
"Her shoes are worth a bundle, and that new model mini-taser she had strapped to her"---silky, muscled--- "thigh is nearly worth a cloudskiff. Don't be led by your dick. She's not who she appears."
Derrick shot him a look over his shoulder, and Red shared the irony.
He wiggled his toes. "And you're never gentle."
Derrick lived and breathed being a trader. He thrived on it. When he finally got horny enough to turn that laser focus off of this nightcrater and onto a woman, it was fast and furious. Frederick didn't like being compared to Derrick, so he usually opted for a different tack entirely if they were using the same woman. He'd learned to slow himself down, to touch softer, longer. They worked hard not to compete for the same woman, but when they were both totally attracted to the same type, it was sometimes hard to find two equally interesting women in a bar.
Derrick leaned his shoulder against the wall, and now Frederick knew he was moments from joining their sleeping guest just a few short strides away. "I'll never forget looking up and seeing that determined, hard look on her face as she tried to choke that tower of meat. She's fucking hot."
Interesting. Frederick hadn't thought that at all. He'd looked up and seen her being spun and slapped at on the guy's back, and been horrified. Seeing her attacked had brought him first worry, then awe when she'd defended herself like a professional Matador in a cage fight. But even after seeing her skill, when he'd seen her crushed between that brute and the ship, he'd been so angry, so afraid for her. He'd found some well of strength inside, and laid out his man in short order. He'd been the one to make it to her first, gently untangling her from the slumped body of the man she'd choked unconscious.
"So you're not going after her then?" Derrick stalked to the mess counter and drained his darkcafe for recycling. His mug went into the sanitizer.
"No." Regret and irritation twined his gut. He stood. He was so fucking tired. Tired of passing a night with women he never really got to know. Tired of not knowing himself.
He walked up to the mess counter as well, and was surprised when Derrick didn't move away. Generally, when they were close, there was some sort of feedback between them, a sizzle. It felt vaguely uncomfortable, and while not remotely sexy to him, apparently women thought it was amazing.
"Where would you go?" Derrick asked.
Frederick repeated the tidying motions. "It doesn't matter. Somewhere off the trade routes, and probably a developing planet, where UGA's eyes are weak." He was young and strong and not afraid of hard work. "I'm a good mechanic. I could take some courses."
He looked up into Derrick's considering gaze. He'd never been farther than a city block from him. It would be weird not knowing he was at his back. But then again, he wanted the man off his back.
"Going to sleep now?"
Frederick nodded. "Yes." He gestured to his badly bruised face. "I tried to lie down before, but I had a killer headache. The pills have worked, and the bruising cream will have helped by now."
"I think I cracked a rib."
Frederick raised his brow. "Did you put a patch on?"
"Yes, nurse Red." Derrick spun and stomped off down the hall.
To Red's surprise, he passed the stateroom door that shielded Mara, and went into the farther of the two smaller bunks on the left. The door whiffed open, then closed.
In the days after the storm, their fights over who would sleep in "their" cabin had been tremendous. Bruised faces and cracked ribs had been the least of it. In the end, they'd agreed to retreat to the two guest bunk rooms, since neither would acknowledge the other as the deserving party for their old Captain's cabin.
Red paused in front of the door now. She was in there. With her thick, silky-soft, lustrous hair... his fingers itched. The knuckles were already healing over. He closed his fist, imagining a hank of the black locks in his grip.
She had a concussion. He would check on her. He opened the door and stepped inside. Her face was turned from him, soft in sleep. The blue sheet covered her, but was thin enough to reveal her black dress beneath. The desk lamp was on low, and he could see her generous breasts rise and fall. She'd been solid in his arms, for her size. There was a lot of muscle in that slim frame.
Stepping up to the bed, he looked down at her, wondering who she was. Troubleshooter. Badass. Gorgeous. She had bounty hunter written all over her. Derrick was a jackass, and going to get himself landed in a plexi-cage, bound and full of wires. His gaze hesitated on her chest and saw her nipples beaded high and thick. Then again... every man needed a proud way to go.
His fists clenched again, wanting to flick the little bumps, wondering how she'd react, if they were sensitive or not. He wondered if she'd moan or arch. If she was a talkative lover, passionate or playful. He smiled, remembering the glad greed on her face when she saw the two Molten Blues. She'd pulled them forward and sucked hard, that red, puffy mouth puckered.
His erection sprang up again and he turned to go. Her breathing was steady. She seemed fine.
"Don't go."
He froze with his hand hovering over the door plate. And his head swirled from the blood pouring into his metal-hard rod.
He turned. "I didn't mean to wake you up. How do you feel?"
Stretching in one long slink of woman, her hands strained high above her head. "A little achy. Nothing a rubdown wouldn't cure." She blinked long black lashes at him, her light eyes gleaming.
He still wasn't even sure what color they were. Gray-blue of some sort.
"Are you good at rub downs, Red?"
A pang twisted his heart. His name was Frederick. Or it used to be. Since the storm... maybe he wasn't Frederick anymore. Maybe he was someone new. Maybe they both were.
"Actually, I am." It was true. He had a knack for finding knots in muscle, and working along the strip until they flattened away.
"Somehow I knew you would be. Would you help a girl out?" Her lashes swept down over her cheeks, and she licked her lips, leaving them gleaming.
"I'm sure it's not a good idea. You should just take a minute in the cleaning chamber. The jets are as good as a massage."
"Hmmm. I doubt that." She sat up, the sheet falling to her waist, that incredible cleavage on display.
Shimmying her ass, she rucked up her dress, and he glimpsed the black satin panties he'd seen earlier when he'd examined her.
Lifting one arm as graceful as a dancer, she unsealed a seam. "How did you get to be good at rub downs?"
He swallowed. "My cousin was a dancer. She used to come home from hours at the studio and ask me to help her. It wasn't gross or anything, but I did, and she gave me direction. I even read up on it a bit to get better."
"So, you've never given lovers a rub down?" Keeping her gaze downcast, she held her loosened dress to her chest.
"Yeah. I've given lovers massages."
"Good." With one twist of her arms, her dress was up and over her head, her high round breasts falling a bit without the dress to support them. Her nipples were dark brown, her skin lightly tanned. Her hair swished down her spine, and she tossed the scrap of fabric to the floor. Sitting back on her braced arms, she smiled at him, sleepy and pleased.
He imagined he could feel her body heat reach out to him across the cool cabin.
"I'm glad you're able to use your expertise on lovers, because my back aches like a guy tried to pancake me against a ship, and I have every intention of enjoying your hands all over me." Her chin tipped to a challenging angle, her silver eyes direct.
His erection had picked up a heartbeat. "You'd trust me to take care of you, after we took you away?"
She licked her lips again, and nodded. "I do. Especially you, Red. I consider myself a pretty good judge of character. In my line of work it's important to be able to read people, and I read you as a decent, honest guy."
She kicked off the sheet, then rolled to her belly, pillowing her head on her arms. "Come down here."
He should turn right around and leave. This wasn't good. It wasn't right. Something about her was off. Derrick had staked his claim. But it wasn't her command that held him. It was her words that said she saw him as a unique person. Especially you...
He bent to one of the drawers in the headboard. He took out some lube. It wasn't massage oil, but it was self-heating, so it would do fine. He stepped up to the edge of the bed, missing its generous size and comfort after weeks in a slim guest bunk.
He reached out to brush her hair off her back, and couldn't help himself from petting it once, smoothing his hand down the glossy length of it. Half a dozen sexual fantasies sprang into his head. Wrapping the length around his balls while she sucked him off was the winning image that made him pull in a hard breath. He shifted the gleaming mass off her shoulders. From this angle, he could see one breast bulging to the side, the curve of her ribs, the flare of her hips, and the smooth, rounded mounds of her ass split by a black silky ribbon.
In the small of her back, the scraps of black satin were bound by silver filigree. The sight of it stopped him for a moment. It had three swirling arms. It was elegant. Balanced. And still, somehow dangerous-looking. He poured the oil into his hands, twining them to spread it over his fingers.
"If you really are interested in a massage, and not seduction, you need to turn around, so that your head is in the corner of the bed, and you're stretched out diagonally. That way I'll be able to get your back and neck along a central line." He went and stood at the lower corner of the bed, his heart thundering, his erection aching.
She lifted her head and looked at him, assessing. "All right."
He noted that was not an answer that refuted seduction. She rose up on her hands and knees, and the look of her gorgeous ass tightening made him leak out his tip. Good thing the thick canvas pants would probably hide it. She turned around and crawled toward him, her breasts hanging, the nipples still pearled tightly.
"You're gorgeous." He didn't used to be this undisciplined with what slid out of his mouth. But he found that he didn't regret the new honesty that he lived with.
She smiled, wide and bright. She lay down, her head precisely on the corner. "Thank you. So are you."
"Keep your arms down by your side."
She arranged them. Her hair fell over the side of the bed and tickled the top of one of his feet. Sensation flashed up his body like lightning. He hooked his foot around the desk chair and pulled it over. Sitting so his knees were spread wide along the corner of the bed, and his crotch was deliriously near her head, he leaned over her. The scent of her, some exotic perfume mixed with warm woman, rolled into his lungs and sank straight to his balls.
"Take three deep breaths."
She inhaled, and at the peak, he put his hands on her waist. She exhaled and he drew them up, thumbs along her spine, in a firm, hard drag. She inhaled again, and he rotated his hands over her shoulders, sweeping along the blade of her bone, and when she exhaled the second time, he flowed along the top of her shoulders. She inhaled, and he cupped her neck, his fingers drifting lightly up into her hair, and on her exhale, he thrust down the whole length of her spine to the three-armed swirl of her panties in a smooth glide. Her body was tight, muscled and sleek, and her skin was flawless except for a scar on her lower right back, over her ribs. It was the kind of scar left after a medbot had done its best to erase a truly bad wound. The bruising they'd seen earlier had faded with the same cream that healed his face.
"That feels amazing already," she sighed. "I haven't been pampered like this in... ever, I guess. Do it again."
She relaxed fully under his hands. He gentled her with light glides of his hands once more, and then he began to probe her muscles. Using his strength carefully, mindful of her bruises, he stroked along each muscle, pausing to circle and press on the knots. Where she hummed, he spent a little longer, and where her breath hitched, he lightened his touch.
After a few moments, he was able to close his eyes against the incitement of his large hands on her body and just lose himself in the touch of her. He ignored his aching dick, and focused on making her feel better.
"So we're on course for Delteila?" Her voice was slurred, drowsy.
"Yes. It will be easy for you to catch a ride back to Bonmim there." He worked his hands lower. She needed her gluts worked, and he decided to go for it. Damn. Her ass was firm and soft, the perfect handful.
"The last time I was on Delteila, I was running after... an appointment. I didn't get to look around. I hear they have special levels of entertainment there."
She lifted into his kneading hands, and he pushed his thumbs harder into the dimples on her spine. "Considering that Delteila was first formed as a vacation destination, it has lots of pleasure draws. Plus it's the most elaborately designed of any of the engineered and fabricated planets." He would not dwell on the thought of walking into a virtual booth with her, both of them oiled and ready for sex in a series of shifting environments.
"Oh, yeah? You know a lot of history? I'm interested in stories, too. There's a lot to learn about all the different planets and bases."
Red had a history that made him confident around a woman's body. He wasn't going to think of that history either. He went back to her shoulders, ignoring how he'd made her ass rosy and flushed.
"I do like history. Lots of pilots develop odd little interests. There's so much to explore while you're cruising space." Like her silken curves.
"When I was little, I always wanted to travel. Dreamed about it all the time." Mara sighed and rolled her neck as he dug into the knots at the top of her spine. "Guess I got my wish. And I do enjoy traveling and my work. It's just sometimes I'd like a long vacation, you know?"
"You're tense. I can feel it," he agreed. "Your neck is the worst, but to focus on it, you need to turn over. I'll pull the sheet up and you can---"
Or not. She rolled over, her breasts swaying. His hands clenched, the skin sensitized by the friction of working her.
"I don't need the sheet, thanks." She blinked up at him from upside down. "You're really helping me a lot." Her gaze went straight to the hard dick bowing against his pants. She smiled. "But I'm not helping you very much."
"I don't deal in keeping score. I'm glad to ease you."
She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "I see that."
He gritted his teeth. "You're safe with me. I'm not going to---"
"No? Oh, drat. Let's not be too hasty." Her mischief faded after a moment. "I should be on the com, arranging return transport. I have responsibilities I'm ignoring, but mostly I'm just glad to spend more time with you."
Her words made his stiff erection so tight his abs ached. "Close your eyes. Don't try to move your head. Let me move it for you." He slid his hand under her skull, found the bump, saw her wince, and adjusted his grip in her soft hair.
She closed her lashes, her lips parting on a sigh. He turned her neck, set his thumb high above her ear, and worked in small circles down the line of her neck and onto her shoulder. After a few passes, his view drifted to her breasts. They were stunning. Derrick was more of a breast man. Red appreciated them as much as any man, but also enjoyed a woman's hips, ass, and legs. However, these might change his mind and make him firmly a breast man.
"You could touch me there, you know. The pectoral muscle in the chest is connected to your back. It would be medicinal." Her voice was even lower now, pure throaty sex.
He looked down to see she'd caught him mooning over her. "No." He rolled her head in his grip, turning her neck to the other side, and began to work.
She hummed. "I'd like you to. Very much." Her legs stretched, shifting apart. "And my legs, too."
Oh, shit. He stopped, trying to calm his heart.
"Red." One of her hands rose up and covered his, where it rested against the crook of her throat. Her fingers were delicate and long, but calloused, like someone who works out. "Look at me." She squeezed his hand.
He was aware of how hot it had gotten from stroking over her. He looked at her upside down gaze, centered below him, just next to his groin.
"Say my name. I want to hear you say it, so I know I'm not just any woman to you."
"You're not just any woman, Mara."
Her breath caught when he said her name, making her breasts rock slightly. She lifted his hand, and he made her use some muscle to do it. Then she set it on her breast. He cupped it, and it overflowed his palm.
"Mmm. You're warm."
"It's the friction." He sank his fingers into her skin, softer than her ass, but still firm.
She reached up her arms again, and followed his other arm down from his elbow. She tugged his grasp from her hair, and drew it down to her other breast. "I need this. Space is too lonely."
He set the heel of his other hand into the top of her breast, pressing down on her pectoral until his palm covered her nipple. His fingers curved into the underside of her.
"I'm not going to make love to you, Mara." It wasn't right, and he very much worried it wasn't safe. He had no intention of being some lab rat, drugged and gibbering, just another credit in her account. But heaven help him, he wanted to.
"Hmmm." She arched into his grip, her hands trailing up, up his arms, then jumping to dance down his chest where he curved over her. She came down past his waist, and her fingers found his erection through his pants. The position drew her arms above her head, lifting her breasts even more.
"Harder, Red. I want to know a man's touch."
He squeezed, helpless to deny her. He tried to delay it, but within a few sweeps, his thumbs were digging into her nipples, then his fingers plucked them up again. He learned she wasn't that sensitive in her breasts, and liked a very firm touch indeed. She gasped and twisted beneath him, her breath on his stomach hot, even through his undershirt.
He was so focused on her breasts, his abs jumped in shock at the first brush of her fingers on his dick.
"Mara!" How had she gotten his pants open so fast?
"Come over me," she demanded breathlessly. Her hands rubbed his head, finding his wetness and using it mercilessly. Her fingers rimmed him and circled him, before closing hard and pulling. He stood, and oh, fuck, she pulled him down and slid him right down her throat.
The angle was perfect, and his hands clenched on her chest, making her moan around his dick. The vibration was the final straw. Clasping her throat, supporting the back of her neck, his thumbs gently passed over the hollow of her throat, watching her as she arched to suck on him eagerly. He couldn't see her eyes from this angle, but it was a fleeting disappointment as his gaze leaped from her lips tight around him, to her throat, to her chest, to the fact that her legs had opened, spread wide, hips tipped up.
One of her hands left him, coasted down the middle of her body, and plunged between her legs. He couldn't stop himself from thrusting in her mouth, just a bit, feeling her tight throat swallow on him. His balls, already tight, boiled.
"Mara, I'll come soon. Stop."
Her teeth set into him, her tongue lashed, and her hand pumped hard between her rising hips.
His thumbs stroked her throat again and again. She sucked, so warm and wet and tight and perfect. His earlier fantasy came to him, and he slid one hand along her skull, tugging his fingers through her cool hair. He pulled her tumbling curls between his legs, and their fingers twined together around his balls in a silky black grasp. Her cool hair pushing between his legs combined with her mouth pulling on his cock. He slid down that sweet slope toward the end.
Taking his other hand from her deeply arched neck, he reached out and squeezed her tummy. Her mouth clamped around him, an explosion of sensation. Her abs were tight and stark, but his fingers gripped her belly and circled hard, pressing.
She screamed around his dick, and he tossed his head back as he came. She still wouldn't let him pull away so he jerked, his tip locked in her throat, her tongue like a burning brand along his length. Her hand thrashed between her legs, wet sounds slipping from her fingers and her lips.
Her body shook, the tremors delicate and fluttering against his touch working her uterus. Pleasure exploded through his toes, out his ears, roiled in his chest, that she'd been able to come, too.
The door whooshed open, and he whipped his head to the side. Derrick stood there, nude, stroking his erection hard. They always knew when the other was horny... and occupied with it. It had been too much to hope he could have stayed in his room.
Red bared his teeth at him, furious at his presence in this moment, when pleasure was weakening his knees and locking him with seized muscles.
Derrick's face was tight, his nostrils flaring, his lips clamped in a thin line. His gaze burned down Mara's body. She shuddered one final time, and her hips fell to the bed, her fingers trailing up from between her thighs to lay glistening wet where they covered his on her belly.
Derrick wrapped his palm around the tip of himself, sneered at Red, then turned on his heel and left.
Mara's lips loosened, and their hands untangled from his balls and her hair. Frederick collapsed down on the seat. Her neck rolled into normal position. He moved both his hands to cradle her face. Bowing over her, he kissed her. It was like the first time all over again. Then, when he'd been thirteen and Killi had dared him to kiss her or she'd bean him with a hard gosha fruit, he'd known the awe of opening someone else's mouth and tasting them. Now, kissing Mara upside down, her lips were like Killi's. She was new. Her tongue scalded, her mouth tasted salty and sour with his cum, and her teeth were sharp and dangerous.
She writhed under him, and he realized she wanted to breathe. He lapped across her lower lip as he pulled away. Both of them were panting.
Her eyes were wide and dazed, her face soft and flushed, and her mouth... He leaned down and kissed her again, thrusting deep, tangling their tongues.
When she sat up, she twisted around to face him and stared, not smiling. Long, thick dark lashes fluttered. "You... Red..."
"Did I hurt you?" He coasted one hand gently over a softening breast.
She shivered. "No. I wanted you in my mouth. It was sexy and delicious. What did you do, with your touch on my stomach? Do you have... powers?"
He grinned at her, triumph bubbling. "Red's Magic Massage, at your service. I've had some experience with a woman's body. There're more points for pleasure than just these." He flicked one nipple.
She drew her legs underneath her and scooted toward him. Seeing her kneeling before him with serious eyes and tangled hair lit up something inside him. Her hands plunged into his hair, feathering through it, then tightened and pulled him forward. Right side up, her mouth fit to his perfectly. Their lips melded, and her curious tongue explored.
"Thank you, Red. I know I seduced you into that, but it's been a long time. I've been lonely. And you were wonderful."
I've been lonely, too. He didn't reply, just rested his forehead against hers, stroking her hair behind her delicate ears. He wanted to kiss them. He wanted to nibble on her nipples, lap at her ribs, and push her legs as wide as they'd go and feast on the cream she'd made.
Instead he drew in a breath, kissed her cheek, and pulled away. He stood and tucked himself back in his pants. "Would you like a cafe?"
She nodded. Yawned. "Yes, sweetcinncafe, please."
He held the sheet up, and she lay down. He drifted it over her, troubled. Out in the lounge, Derrick sprawled on the couch, still nude. A cloth was crumpled in one fist, and Red knew he'd probably finished in it. It struck him as ironic that Derrick was naked and had openly stated his sexual goal, but Red was fully dressed and had refuted the sexual option... but gotten it. Ignoring him, Red made her cafe. Sweet Sin, just like her. He turned to go back to her, his stocking feet sizzling on the cool metal floor.
"Thanks for softening her up for me. It always works out well when we tag team. You get them ready and then I can really use them hard." Derrick's words were clipped, angry as he scooped his gray pants from the floor and quickly dressed.
"So much for her being different then?" Red tossed the words off lightly, knowing Derrick's crudeness was to get him riled.
Derrick spat at him. "You're a damned bastard."
"Actually, I'm not. Mom was married, as you well know."
Derrick stepped into his personal space and, for a moment, Frederick thought they'd get into it again, as they hadn't in weeks.
"I told you I wanted her."
"And I told you I did, too. You never seem to understand you're not in control of me." Inhaling the scent of her sweetcinncafe calmed him. He sighed. "I didn't plan that. It just happened."
"Is that supposed to be an apology?"
Red shrugged. He held out the cafe. "Do you want to take this to her?"
I'm the waiter now? When the hell did I lose all control over myself? Derrick grabbed the cup hard enough to make the cinnamon-scented cafe slosh over the rim, turned on his heel, and strode back to the sleeping chamber---his bedroom, no matter what Red claimed---where beautiful Mara lay.
He absently rubbed the scar on his cheek as he regarded the lovely woman sprawled on his bed, her body still nude, her raven-dark hair tumbled in wild profusion over the pillow. She appeared to be asleep, her full, round breasts rising and falling evenly with every breath, but Derrick wondered if she really was what she appeared to be---and he meant much more than her sleeping state.
Strange that she was so skilled at fighting and that she'd had a weapon strapped to her thigh. And although she hadn't been the first woman thrilled with the idea of making love to identical twins, he'd sensed something more than pure lust was motivating her to go off with them.
Red, the paler, lamer version of himself, had noticed it, too. It made Red hesitate when he thought a hot woman was out for something. But then Red was a cautious guy. As for Derrick, he knew everyone was out for something and didn't hold it against a woman if she was hoping for some pay along with her pleasure. He was like that himself, lived for the moment, grabbed every opportunity.
That was the way he played it himself. Commerce was his business and his life. Personal pleasure rated lower on the scale of necessities. But if he could combine the two, he was always happy to do so.
Derrick crossed the room silently and set the mug on the nightstand before allowing himself another long gaze at Mara's face and body. Even though he'd just jacked off, his cock was rigid again, straining against his flight pants. Her long, black eyelashes swept against cheeks still flushed from exertion. Christ, what an exertion that had been. Derrick swallowed as he recalled how she'd looked with her throat angled impossibly high and Red's cock engulfed in her mouth. It was almost as if he could feel it himself.
Grabbing the cream sheet, he lifted it in one smooth sweep, dropping it onto the floor. He feasted on the sight of her full breasts, topped with dark, rosy nipples he longed to sink his teeth into. His attention wandered on to the flat plane of her belly and the slinky black undies at the junction of her legs. Her long, long legs were muscular and hard as if she worked out. If her battle with Lattimer's henchman was any indication, Derrick imagined sparring, not weight machines, had toned that fine body.
"Like what you see?" Her cafe-rich voice made him twitch, which pissed him off. Very few things caught Derrick Ravenscraft by surprise.
"Nice chassis. Guess I'd like to know a little more about what's underneath before I buy."
One black-fringed, blue eye opened languidly to gaze at him. "Those kind of lame lines work for you, champ?"
She was smart and quick. He loved that in a woman. "Maybe it's not a line and maybe I don't want to get laid." She put him off balance, made him lose his glibness and that pissed him off too.
"Oh, I think you do want to get laid, if what I saw while I was sucking off your twin is any indication." She opened the other eye and regarded him with a gaze that seemed to peer right through his bluster to the center of his being. "You being a 'full speed ahead' kind of guy, I sort of thought you'd charge right in and join us. But even though you waited until we were done, I see you're still ready." Her gaze swept his body, and returned to challenge him. "I seem to have lost my sheet. How immodest of me."
"What would you have done if I had joined you both?" He hitched a hip onto the edge of the bed and sat gazing into her face, even though he longed to examine her body some more.
She reached out and rested a hand on his thigh. "I'd think it was hot. I said so back at the bar, didn't I?"
"Wasn't sure you meant both at once. Besides, Red and I aren't what you'd call close. We may look alike, we may work together, but we don't fuck together. And we're not the same. Not at all." He rubbed the visible proof he stubbornly wore on his cheek, caught himself doing it and pulled his hand away from the scar. The damn thing kept drawing him, like a teenager with a zit to pop. It would be simple to have it lasered off, but he wanted it.
Mara nodded at the thin, jagged line that bisected one brow before curving around his eye and down the side of his cheek. "What happened there?"
"Red happened. We used to fight a lot."
She raised a brow. "Not any more?"
"Not physically anyway. We've come to...an agreement, I guess you'd call it. Negotiated a truce."
"If the pair of you gets along so poorly, why doesn't one of you buy out the ship and the other go his own way?"
Derrick thought of what Red had proposed earlier. Would he really step down and let Derrick have his old life back? Things could be like they'd always been, just him and his cargobots and his ship. When a quiet voice deep inside him demanded to know if he truly wanted it that way, he punched it in the face and shoved it into a closet.
"It's complicated," he answered. "Do you want this cafe or not? It's getting cold."
Mara sat, tucked a pillow behind her, then picked up the mug and brought it to her lips. Without a shred of hesitation, she settled back, her round, high tits with brown nipples standing out proud, her shoulders at ease. Damn, he wanted to taste those luscious, swollen lips again with every fiber of his being. Would they taste like his own jiz? The thought struck him and the paradox of two selves crashed over him once again. Five months now since "the incident" and he still couldn't completely wrap his mind around it.
She swallowed, sighed and set the cup down. "Wonderful. Just what I needed---especially after all those Moltens."
Derrick crossed his arms over his chest to keep from reaching out and wiping the drop of creamy cafe from the corner of her mouth. "You handled yourself seriously well in that run-in with Lattimer's muscle. Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
"Classes. Figured if I'm going to traipse all over the galaxy alone I'd better be prepared to defend myself. There's all sorts of assholes out there."
Mara placed her hand back on his thigh and it burned through his pants as if they were made of tissue paper. He narrowed his eyes. She was baiting him---seeing how long before his control broke and he jumped her bones. Meanwhile, she sat there chatting, acting as if she wasn't stark naked and he didn't have an obvious boner tenting his pants.
He felt like he was a kid again, trying to hide his attraction to Killi, the first girl he'd ever kissed. Uncalled-for erections had been the bane of his existence back then. Seemed like Mara was bringing on the affliction again, 'cause he couldn't look at her without getting a hard-on.
"As similar as you and your twin look, you guys really aren't alike, are you?" She deflected the questioning from herself to him like a master.
He shrugged. "Not so much." Not nearly as much as we ought to be considering we're the same man. Something had happened to him during that solar storm and the rash shortcut through it, something more than the bizarre time shift that had duplicated his body. Derrick had grown...different since then. More devoted to flying and trading than ever, more hot-tempered for sure, but also somehow colder inside, as if he'd lost some part of himself. And he hated the thought that Red might possess whatever the hell it was he'd lost.
He added, "Red's the one more likely to waste time admiring the beauty of a solar corona. Me, I want to know the quickest way around it so I can get where I'm going."
"Viva la difference!" Mara smiled and reached toward his face to trace the scar with one gentle fingertip. "You think you're so tough, but you want contact just as much."
Derrick growled deep in his chest. The light scratch of her nail pushed him over the edge. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand from his face. At the same time, he swooped down and took possession of her mouth like a pirate craft attacking a sportcruiser.
Her full lips were every bit as lush and soft as he'd remembered, and her mouth didn't taste like cum but like sweetcinncafe. He plunged his tongue inside to drink her deeply. Delicious!
He still gripped her wrist, but Mara slipped her other hand around the back of his neck and dragged him down with her onto the bed. Her warm, pliant body spread beneath him, making his own ache with the need to bury himself inside her. He thrust against her belly. His dick was hard enough to drill its own way out of his flight pants if he didn't free it soon. Contact.
Pinning her hand above her head, he devoured her mouth, kissing her hard, thrusting with his tongue the way he wanted to with his cock. Derrick grabbed her other wrist and pinned it against the mattress, too. He loved the feeling of her delicate wrists in his hard grip, and drew back to admire the sight of her upraised arms, her breasts riding high. She looked vulnerable, exposed, and outrageously sexy.
Mara grinned, clearly enjoying his display of dominance. She arched her chest, offering a taste of her pebbled nipples. Derrick accepted the invitation, descending and plucking one taut bud between his lips. He swirled his tongue around it, nibbled, then sucked deeply. Her breasts were amazing, not too big but large enough to really fill his mouth. She lifted toward the tugging of his lips. He stopped suckling to nip sharply, making her gasp.
"More!" she murmured.
"I knew you'd like it my way." His voice was rough. It was all he could do to form words.
"Shut up and fuck me." Her demand nearly made him come in his pants. Derrick ground his erection against her as he took her other nipple into his mouth. Maybe he gave it short shrift, a quick suck and a light mauling, before he leaped up and stripped off his pants, but Mara didn't complain.
He skimmed her panties down her legs. Winking at her, he twirled them once on his finger, then pulled them wide with two hands and snapped them across the room.
"Spread," he ordered as he stroked his cock with his hand, craving the tight heat of her body. She had the cutest tuft of black curls on her mound.
She laid there, arms above her head where he'd placed them---next time he'd have to really do it up right and tie her with rope---and watched him stroke himself through half-lidded eyes. Her sexily lowered lids and her frank appraisal of his body made Derrick clench his grip around his base. Those amazing legs spread slowly, too slowly, the toned smooth length of them making his fingers burn. When they finally pulled wide enough to reveal the mocha, glistening bare valley within her curls, he lost it. He was back on top of her and ready to bury his cock deep.
But he paused with the weeping tip a heartbeat away from her opening and reined in his galloping libido. Not because he wanted to give her one last chance to say "no" when it was obvious she wouldn't. Not for fear of STDs, since he'd had the vaccines like every USG citizen. Certainly not because Red wanted her and maybe he felt a little guilty.
No, the reason he paused was to prolong the moment, and because he wanted to make her beg for it. As he looked into her eager face, he wanted to be more than a tool for hot sex. He wanted quick, ballsy, mysterious Mara to shine.
Derrick shifted his hips a little higher and let his solid cock slide over her pussy. Mara gasped again as he rolled over her clit. He lifted up and brought his cock down, tap, tap, tap, just the head knocking against her erect nub, politely asking entrance.
She squirmed and started to reach for him, but he pinned her wrists firmly back to the bed again. "What do you want?" he rasped.
"You. Inside. Now."
"How do polite girls ask for what they want?"
She narrowed her eyes, her long lashes nearly lacing together, and glared up at him. "Fuck me, now!"
"Didn't your mama ever teach you 'please' and 'thank you'?"
She was breathing hard as he continued to torture her clit with little brushes of his cockhead. Of course, it was killing him, too, but damned if he'd let her know that.
"No. My mama said, 'No one's going to hand you anything. You have to take it.' She struggled against his hands pinning her down, but from her feral grin it was a toss-up which of them was enjoying the fight more. He eased more of his weight onto her, flattening her chest so tightly he could feel the hard press of her nipples.
"C'mon, you have to really want this cock, Mara. Show me you really want it," he whispered near her ear, then nuzzled her soft skin at the curve where neck met shoulder.
"Fine," she exploded, then offered with theatrical exaggeration. "Fuck me, please, right now."
He grinned at her sass. "Such begging will only get you so far." Settling his tip on her clit, he shoved lightly over it, setting up a rhythm. Her skin there was warm and wet. His dick rippled at her softest texture against his. The first orgasm came to her quickly, but he didn't slow down, didn't speed up.
"Uhhhh!" Sweat gleamed on her face. She blinked up at him, her breath catching. "Come inside!"
"Say my name." He stroked over her, gritting his teeth, determined not to shaft her until she'd remember him.
"Derrick!" She said it fast, and needy, and he had to break his rhythm to keep from coming.
She came again, twisting, pulling hard on her arms, but he kept her down with his weight, settling harder onto her, grinding her clit down.
"I-I-what is this?" She stared blindly up at him, and tried the old lovers' games. "Please! I want you deep..."
He couldn't stop himself from speeding up. Her frame under him was slender and strong. There was no doubt she could take everything he could give her. She was smart and capable and she wanted him. He'd never felt more powerful.
Her hips thrashed to get away from his cock and she sprayed hot, wet cream all over him, thrusting up with her thighs around his. "I need you inside!"
"You got it, baby." Derrick shifted again, bringing his cock to her entrance and thrusting deeply, impaling her with his long, thick shaft. Wet as she was, he glided as easily as a craft docking in the chute of a space station. An unerring pilot, he guided his skiff home, sighing with relief when he'd reached his berth. Her slick grip around him was tight, nova hot, and pulsed.
He might be pinning Mara's hands, but her long legs were free and she wrapped them around his back, grappling him to her. Derrick pulled out and thrust again. She aided him with the pressure of her legs locked around his lower back. The angle tilted her pelvis so he could reach even deeper inside her. When he landed home the second time, Mara grunted and cursed softly under her breath.
"Right there," she encouraged. "Do it again."
She wasn't being a very docile submissive shouting out commands like that, but Derrick was happy to oblige. His body slid over hers, hard chest against soft breasts, skin gliding against skin, as he pulled out nearly all the way before driving in again.
He released her hands, sliding his palms down her smooth arms, making her jerk and laugh when he stroked too near her armpits. He braced his hands on either side of her head, holding most of his weight on his arms as he rose and fell above her.
Mara left her arms right where he'd placed them, as if her wrists were locked to the bed above her head. Derrick raised himself and looked down to where their bodies joined together. He liked the sight of his glistening cock emerging from her black curls then being swallowed once more. He also loved the sight of her breasts, flattened by gravity but with the tips perkily up-tilted due to her raised arms.
And he really adored watching her face contorted with pleasure. She frowned, straight, black brows knitted together, eyes closed, and her lips parted and moist. Such concentration. When he hit that sweet spot inside her once more, her lips rounded in an "o" of delight and her eyebrows lifted.
Derrick bent to kiss the circle of her mouth, slicked his tongue inside once more at the same time he thrust with his cock. In and out, he drilled her like a cargobot sealed a bay, steady, hard, fast, filling and receding over and over.
He'd taken the edge off his lust earlier by masturbating, but teasing her before, drawing out her orgasms before taking her, made arousal swirl like starfire inside him. Moving faster and probing deeper, he was soon ready to come, but he wanted to look into her eyes---for Mara to see and know him at the moment of climax.
"Open your eyes," he whispered. "Look at me."
One blink of those long lashes and her blue eyes were open and staring back into his. She gritted her teeth and thrust her hips toward him as he pummeled into her.
"Oh yes, right there," she repeated as he hammered the spot she liked. "Fuck, yeah!"
Her words of pleasure and the blissful expression dawning on her face put him over the edge. He groaned, low and long, as his balls drew tight and his cock spasmed.
"Derrick." She breathed rather than spoke his name, and the sound was intricately mingled with the pleasure of his orgasm. Wave after wave swept through him, but he continued pumping, sensing Mara was right on the verge and needed a few more strokes to push her over. He needed to give it to her, even as he lost control over his own seizing body.
In the haze of his own ecstasy, he heard her cry out his name once more, then she bucked wildly beneath him as if she was possessed. Damn, he loved a woman who came hard. Her legs still wrapped his waist in a stranglehold and her hips rocked against him as her head rolled back, showing the long, white column of her throat. It was so worth all of the delay, to see her glow. He descended on her skin, sucking and biting softly as the last of his climax receded.
Derrick sprawled on top of Mara, their bodies melded together with sweat, deeply satisfied. He'd needed a good release. More than that, he'd needed it to be with this particular woman. Although they'd only exchanged a few bantering words and he knew hardly anything about her, Derrick wanted her more than any woman in recent memory. Maybe it was her smart-ass comments, or her kick-ass fighting skills. Maybe it was the secrets swirling behind her mysterious eyes, or the feeling he got that she was as exhausted and frayed as he. The combination of strength and vulnerability was seductive and Derrick wanted more of it. He wanted to get to know Mara a lot better, but that wouldn't happen. She'd soon be gone from his life---from both their lives, back to her own.
Rolling to the side, he propped his head on his hand and gazed at the still panting woman.
"Whew, that was a workout!" She turned her smile on him and it shone like a nebula. "I really needed that. Thanks." Some emotion flashed in her eyes, dimming her smile. "I keep saying that. Funny so much of what I needed is on a simple trader."
"There's nothing simple about my life. It was my pleasure to provide for you. I'd like to say I'm sorry about basically kidnapping you, but I'm not."
"Me either," she admitted, her grin widening again. "This has been an... unusual evening to say the least, but I'm glad I'm here."
She stretched alongside him. His gaze raked her neck, her belly and thighs. Fuck, she was magnificent. Her eyes fell on the com unit and he squirmed inside to see her consider it.
Derrick glanced toward the nightstand. "Your cafe's cold. Want me to get you another? You hungry?"
She shook her head, stifling a yawn. "Tired mostly. I've been traveling a lot this past year. Living out of a suitcase wears on you. Sometimes I wake up and can't remember which planet or station I'm on."
"Why don't you get some sleep then?" He started to rise even though he didn't really want to leave her side. He'd be happy to cuddle her soft body as long as she slept, but that might turn this into something more than a good fuck, and he couldn't have that. Better to keep it light. Two ships passing and all that.
She blinked sleepily and covered a yawn again. "Sorry. Won't you stay a while?"
"I've got to discuss the flight plan with my...with Red."
"Okay." She didn't argue. He wished she had.
Derrick retrieved his clothes and by the time he'd dressed and glanced at the bed again, Mara was asleep---or pretending to be.
He left the chamber---his room---and stalked down the hall to control. He knew he'd find his duplicate in the cockpit, checking the autopilot and the latest relay chatter.
Sure enough, when Derrick entered the room he saw himself sitting in the pilot's seat, his face lit by the ghostly blue and green lights of the control panel, his head silhouetted against star-spangled space.
Derrick slid into the co-pilot's seat and stared at the universe spread before them, the glimmer of shining suns light-years away, the brighter glow of planets in this solar system. His shoulders relaxed. He sensed rather than saw Red look over at him.
"Did she like the cafe?" His clone's bitter tone was a sharp contrast to the taste of sweetcinncafe and Mara that still lingered on Derrick's tongue.
"Guess so. Wouldn't be surprised if she wants more later." He didn't try to keep the smugness from his voice. Fuck you. My woman, my ship, my life, and you're the imposter.
Red sighed but didn't respond. He wasn't really steering since the ship was on autopilot, but he liked to be here. It was like he didn't understand that the bots did this for thousands of ships across the systems.
Both men sat in silence for a few beats longer before Red spoke again.
"I meant what I said earlier. If you're dead set on having the business and the ship to yourself, you can take it. I'll go. We can't continue fighting to share a single life. I want one of my own."
"Good!" Derrick reached to readjust a bay setting.
Why didn't it feel so good? As much as he'd wanted to rid himself of his doppelganger, why did the thought of it now send a shiver of apprehension through Derrick---like he might lose something vital if he let Red go?
"You're a son of a bitch, you know that?" Red snapped. "Damn, why do you have to be so hard?"
Because you took the parts of me that were soft and I got left with everything else. But he'd never say those words, never admit he wasn't one hundred percent the man he'd been before the solar storm. Derrick shrugged.
Red sighed again. "All right. When we drop Mara at Delteila, I'll take my share of our earnings and get off, too. You can keep the whole damn ship. I don't care anymore."
Derrick glanced at him sharply. "You'll get off with Mara in the pleasure capital of the galaxy? How convenient."
"Christ, D., the woman's got a life of her own and work to get back to. It's not like I'm planning a damn honeymoon sexcapade with her." Red shook his head and glared at him. "I swear we're going to rip each other apart if we don't get away from each other soon."
Derrick opened his mouth to respond even though he didn't disagree, simply because he always had to have the last word, when a voice from the entrance interrupted.
"Hello, boys." Mara stood in the doorway, clothed once more in her slinky little black dress that did great things to those amazing tits, gazing at the stellar view on the vidscreen. "How long 'til Delteila?"
"Twelve hours." Red consulted the glowing screen on the control panel. "Give or take."
Derrick rose to offer her his seat, but Mara spoke again.
"Captains, there's something I should probably tell you, and I don't think you're going to like it."
Mara couldn't believe she'd failed to call in. Twelve hours into the ride, and all she'd done was sleep and fuck. She stared at them sitting there. They weren't Captains A and B. They weren't her marks, and they weren't just a fuck. Derrick had loosened something inside her with his power play, and Red had touched her with his decency. She craved them, again, both, now. They didn't belong in a lab, they belonged out here, with her.
"Go ahead, Mara. Let us worry about the liking. You just say what you need to," Red said.
Watching his lips made saliva leap into her mouth. She remembered his kiss, and her tongue on his cock. She could still taste him beneath her cafe. Snap out of it and focus.
They sat looking at her, bookends in their pilot chairs in front of the control console. The screen wasn't really a window, but the vid was close enough to real time to approximate one. Their auburn hair was lit with the dim cockpit lights, and she was reminded of the bar. She'd known them a matter of hours. It didn't matter. Derrick had walked out, leaving his heat and scent in a tangle of warm sheets, and she'd made her decision.
She was not going to ambush them on Delteila. She was going to calmly explain the situation, assuage their concerns, and escort them like a civilized friend. Because she wanted them as friends.
"Let's go sit in the mess lounge." Her voice was so husky and deep even she heard the longing for sex. All right. So maybe she wanted them for more than friendship.
"That sounds fine." Derrick lifted his arm to direct her, and she turned, aware of the fact she hadn't put her panties on, and that her cunt was raw from his strength.
The walk to the lounge was a study in frustration. Her breasts ached and her nipples burned. Her belly clutched, remembering the press of flesh no longer there. Mara sat on the ugly gray couch, and Derrick sat next to her.
Red frowned at him and pulled the chair over. "We're listening."
She looked from his tousled hair, to Derrick's harder, scarred face. She did want them as friends, but also lovers, and she wanted them both. How long would the scientists want them? Her forehead wrinkled in a scowl. Only you, Mara. Only you could fall for a duplicated man on the run.
"Do you remember, in the bar, how I told you I was a troubleshooter?"
Red nodded. Derrick sat back, one arm stretched along the back of the couch where he turned to face her.
"Well, I am, but I'm not a data pusher. I'm more... hands-on."
Derrick grunted. "Shit, yeah."
A laugh bubbled up but she folded her lips together and held it in. "You know those summons you've been ignoring? The ones from the Capitol Science Headquarters of Theory and Energy?"
Derrick sighed. "Shit." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah." His disappointment told her they'd already guessed, and probably thought the worst.
Red burst from his chair and strode to the food deck. He braced his fists on the edge of the counter and stood with his back to her.
Pain, a surprising amount of it, clutched at her lungs. She touched the center of her chest, taken aback. "Red, it's not like that."
He turned his head enough to spit at her over his shoulder. "Not like what? Not like you get paid to ruin people's lives? To take their freedom away? To lie and kiss and suck and lie some more?"
Shrinking into the couch, she gripped the neck of her dress. It suddenly seemed too low, and the skirt too high. Her legs were cold. It was hard to breathe.
"Don't worry, babe," Derrick said sympathetically. He put a hand on her shoulder. "We already figured you for a head hunter."
Hot indignation that they assumed she was a lowlife snatcher, using her body as bait, poured through her. And they'd both taken pleasure with her, believing she was betraying them? While she'd been tangled up with emotion for them? "I'll have you know I honestly wanted---"
Beeee-OOOOP! Beeee-OOOOP! The piercing alarm cut through her defense along with shocking green lights. A cargobot trundled around the corner as both men sprinted for Control. Mara pushed to her feet, cursing her heels. They cleared the hall archway, feet pounding on the ship deck in long strides. She took two steps after them. The bot plugged itself into the wall and a hatch dropped down and sealed shut with a compression hissss.
"What the---" Her lungs ached again, and dizziness staggered her. She tottered, lurched, and clung to the table.
The siren cut off, and then the green lights. Then all of the lights. She eased herself down into a chair in one hundred percent pitch black. The metal was like ice where her dress failed to cover her thighs.
The crackle of a crappy in-ship com popped, and then, "Mara?" There was an urgency to the voice. It was Red.
"She won't know where the panel is." That was Derrick, terse and distracted.
"Mara, it's Red. We picked up a pack of tricees, and there's a breach. Oxygen has been leaking from the ship at eighteen percent, but we're shutting off the path and getting it back."
Well that explained the pain in her chest. She closed her eyes. It was less disorienting than staring into blackness, but really she closed them in despair. The word "tricee" hit her like a punch to the face. The space parasites, consisting of pebble-sized minerals orbiting a dense, charged gas, could disembowel a ship fast. At least one tricee was on-ship. This was bad.
Every feriam-powered vessel was equipped with a celled ship structure to slow down the destructive creatures' infiltration of systems. Once a tricee was isolated in a cell of the ship, a magnetized MN gas was released that disintegrated the core of a tricee "body". Unfortunately, a tricee enjoyed more than just feriam. Left unchecked, they would devour the ship, leaving nothing but drifting flotsam. If a person happened to fall into the path of a tricee wandering a ship, nothing was left but a frozen lump of bones mixed with sliced and scoured meat. And if a poor slob was unlucky enough to be contained with a tricee when the crew authorized disintegration, the MN gas was lethal in twenty-two percent of reported incidents.
From the com came a muffled tapping, and an exchange of "Don't touch that one" with "It's that one there" and "Get your fingers off my grid."
She wanted to scream at Derrick to let go of his anger at Red and work together for once. The men had to contain and neutralize the tricee before key ship components were lost. She had no intention of being engulfed by an ephemeral space parasite that was meant to exist only in the tails of comets.
Red's voice came clear again. "We never registered you with the bots. They didn't know you were in the mess lounge, which is why you're sealed in. We've got O-2 routing back in there now, so you'll feel better in just a minute."
"Sublevel four! Close it now!" Furious clacking and heavy breathing came from Derrick.
"Got it." Silence. "Did I get it?"
"Yeah. I think... Wait. MN gas commencing. Lemme..." Derrick sounded intent, but uncertain.
"Okay, Mara, it looks like we got the tricee. We'll get you out of there soon. Just sit tight." Red's voice lowered, turning from the mic. "Derrick, the bots will do their status sweep now, and then we have to sizzle the hull before we close up that breach."
"I know. Don't tell me procedure on my own fucking---"
"Damn it! Don't even try to say it's not my ship too, shit head," Red snarled at Derrick. "I know what to do!"
Derrick's voice got clearer. "Get off my controls! Keep your fucking hands to your fucking---"
If Red didn't punch Derrick soon, she would.
Beeee-OOOOP!
It gave her just as much of a heart attack the second time as it did the first, but the green emergency lights were the key. In the sudden revealing light, she lunged for the mess counter, gasping against the ache of thinned atmo.
"Fuck!" Their voices rang out in unison. The siren cut off after a few spine-shuddering wails, successfully interrupting their heated quarrel, but also plunging her into darkness again.
"There's another one." Red's voice was tight.
"Yes, thank you, Mr. Detective," Derrick spat.
"Focus, please!" Mara screamed, as if they could hear her through thirty meters of metal.
"It's moving up. There, on sub-one, aft compartment thirty-five."
Mara's blood ran cold. She knew the layout of their ship, having thoroughly studied her quarry. There was a tricee directly under her. Get it, guys. Get it, vaporize it, and seal the damn hull. Even though there was nothing she could do from here to stop them, her fingers itched. She needed a weapon.
Her pulse raced. "I need light!" she yelled.
Derrick and Red's staccato voices told her the story of sealing and gassing it, but she didn't stop pawing at the drawers. Silverware, useless. Plates and cups, useless. The hull was still breached, and if there were multiple tricees, which there usually were, the third now had the open path his first two friends had cleared.
"Initiating sweep." That was Derrick's growl. "Go override her door and get her out of there."
There was a clatter and several heavy footsteps. She knew Red was on his way.
She found a cupboard of bottles. One was unmistakably whiskey. She shoved it aside. The floor was so cold under her knees, but she thought she was breathing easier. A promising canister fell into her hands. She felt it all over with frantic fingers. Yes. This was a cleanser, for the tabletop, probably. The solution was meant to be safe on both air and skin. She thought it would have the effect of a tissue on a tricee. She thrust her hands forward to keep looking and cried out as she jammed her fingers into an interior cupboard that shouldn't be there. Shaking that hand once, she fumbled it open. To her delight, her fingers closed around a pulse gun. What clever, prepared Captains she had, to hide weapons in their common room.
Shoving her hair from her face, she frantically reviewed the settings, trying to guess if any of them would be effective on a creature that didn't care about heat or cold, light or dark.
"Mara. I'm here. It's Red. Are you all right?" Red's voice came from the door com in the far corner. This was a two-way com.
"Yes! I'm okay." Relief rang clear in her voice. This man was capable and kind. He would work hard to protect her, and she knew from taking pleasure with him that he wouldn't lose himself to emotion.
Beeee-OOOOP!
Green lights slashed through her vision, since she was turned toward the door and the speaker with Red's voice. She jumped, and only her training let her grab up the gun when she fumbled it. At the second flash, she righted her grip, and at the third, she glanced at the door and saw where the control panel was, on the left hand side of the wall, waist high. The lights and siren cut off.
"Tricee detected on sub-two. Red, stay there, get Mara." Derrick's voice announced their still perilous status.
Mara got to her knees, kicked off her heels, and crawled forward, keeping one hand on the wall. She thanked the men's spartan quarters as she maneuvered around a bulk-head. At least she had no furniture to run into. "I've got no lights, Red."
"Mara... Dammit! I'm getting there. Hold on."
"I'm here, Red. Concentrate on doing it right." She wanted fast, but a rushed job would just take longer.
"I'm so sorry." She heard the sound of ratchet-cutters.
"It's not your fault." She was at the panel now. Her fingers drifted over the speaker, wishing it was his face. His hands on her body had been so soothing, full of healing, full of care.
Derrick sounded hoarse when he grated out, "Tricee neutralized on sub-three. The first one is on sub-one, compartment thirty-three."
Slumping against the wall, Mara pressed the button for shipcom. "Derrick, this is Mara. If you have to gas me, do it."
"Mara!" Red's voice rang with shock, tinny through the door-com.
Her voice held a reverb as she heard it on the more powerful speakers broadcasting ship-wide. "I mean it, Derrick. The tricee's shooting for Control, and we're all dead if the damn thing makes it. Gas me if it comes up."
"No! I just need two minutes!" Red sounded vicious. She thought of his soft touch on her belly, his big fingers squeezing shocking pleasure from her. But she also thought of him throwing a beautiful uppercut into a thug, and his stricken face when he saw her get slammed against the ship.
"I hear you, Mara," Derrick responded.
She closed her eyes against the complete darkness. Derrick would do what needed to be done. Red's breath sawed in the com.
A vibration shimmered through Mara's legs and ass on the floor. "Shit. Hurry."
She tightened her grip on the gun, knuckles aching, again moving over the settings available on this model. The floor vibrated with a greater intensity, rattling her teeth, clattering the chairs as they skittered in their table clamps. The one loose from their aborted discussion toppled to the floor with a clang. Whipping the gun up and at that location, she braced her wrist with her other hand and felt her eyes burn with the strain of trying to see. The whirling particle entity was eating away the ship right under her. It could come up from beneath her ass, or along the outer-ship wall, blowing the ship atmo and sucking her into space.
There was a hiss of compression, and light poured through the suddenly open doorway. A big, square hand on a forearm roped with muscle shot through the opening, covered her shoulder and yanked her through like a floppy doll. She sprawled on the deck, rolling, gun up and pointing into the shadows where the chairs were jumping like big space fleas.
Then the floor went silent, and in the next rasping breath, the door slammed shut.
"Hold this," Red ordered.
She struggled to her knees, her hem up around her crotch, and clamped on the wires he had crimped together. His hands thrust into the cavern of grids, and then the deep thunk of the locking mechanism took. Now if they had to gas that room, the hallway wouldn't be contaminated.
Red collapsed from his crouch to his ass, his hands hanging loosely off his knees. After the darkness, the auburn of his hair seemed rich, and the black of his undershirt set off the warmth of his skin. He looked at her and his eyes were a rich chocolate, his long hair sticking to his temples with sweat.
Fingers outstretched, he stopped short of touching her face. "Mara, I thought I'd lost you."
She took his hand in a lightning-fast, hard grip. Her fingers folded through his, and the warmth of his skin in hers lit a fire in her blood.
Without filtering the impulse, she kissed his knuckles, held the scratchy back of his hand to her cheek. He was a good man. An amazingly handsome, sensitive, intelligent, good man.
"I'm sorry about demeaning your job earlier," he murmured. "You're a beautiful woman, and you use all the tools you can. I've no right to judge you just because I'm a target."
"I'm no bounty hunter, Red." She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was shaky. "I'm a UGA op. So yeah, sometimes I'm a sanctioned body slinger, but I do a whole variety of field work, from recon to investigation to retrieval of a pair of duplicated freight Captains."
Red frowned. "We won't live as lab rats."
"I'm one of the good guys, Red. You'll have to trust me on that." She gazed into his eyes, willing him to believe her. It sucked they'd have to go into the labs, but she wasn't sure it sucked that they'd been duplicated. As hard as it seemed to be on them, she valued both Fredericks.
He hesitated then nodded and rose, up and up, pulling her with him to her feet. "Let's get to Control and help Derrick."
She'd just steadied herself using his strength when the control room door burst open at the far end of the hall.
Derrick was framed in the opening, a swirling cloud of rocks behind him---a tricee!---and blood dripping from one arm. He collapsed in the doorway, face tight, scar white. Time slowed, and Mara knew in her soul that nothing must happen to this man or she and Red were both lost.
The white lights flickered, and the ship shuddered, propulsion stuttering. Red surged forward, but she stepped into his path, shouldering him back, even though he staggered her forward.
"Get down!" Her order echoed in the hallway.
Derrick shoved off the doorway, diving to the floor as she raised her gun up. Her thumb spun the dial from memory to the cuff setting. The magnetic burst of light fired from her gun, four charges in rapid succession that left spots on her vision.
The swirling cloud of tan and black pebbles heaved, clattered in a mess of small stones, and surged away from the door, leaving a streak of smoking floor.
"Get Derrick!" Red actually carried her for two strides as he picked her up and bodily moved her aside. He ran after the tricee into the other room. Get out! Red, what are you doing? It was too late to stop him so she bent to pull Derrick farther from the doorway, rolling him to see his injury.
The cockpit door hissed shut, and the compression lock thumped.
"No. Fuck, no. Fuck, Red, no." Derrick rocked under her seeking hands, moaning.
There was a whole lot of silence, and Mara felt fragile, hollow. Getting to her feet, she ran to the emergency med-bot button and smacked it. Turning back to Derrick, she pressed her hand to his shoulder, seeking his pressure point.
"It came up through the aft-port wall. I set up the gas---"
"Derrick, stop. Let me focus."
"---and sealed the compartment below, where it came from."
His undershirt stuck to him, streaked with shocking, bright red. Just a short while ago, they'd connected, as he played her body like a master. His ribs leaped and faded in relief with his sharp gasps.
"I had it prepped, all I had to do was press the button. But then it was there. It was right there."
"You need to stop talking." The wall opened and the bot finally rolled forward, sensor extending. Her eyes burned. The silence from the com made it hard to breathe.
"I tried to reach the button. Twenty centimeters is all I needed. I couldn't do it. It was so hot and the pain---"
She grabbed his jaw. "Stop. Talking. Or I will hit you!" Her weight bore down on his shredded arm. The abrasions looked like someone had taken a cheese grater to his skin. Had he tried to reach into the tricee to trigger the disintegration? Would he need a tourniquet?
He focused on her, and said, "He's gone. He was the best of me, and I needed him."
His head dropped to the side, a bruise on his temple stark against his pale face. His eyes rolled. The bot settled over his arm, delicate arms and tubes snaking every which way. The hall lights flashed threateningly.
The bot's lovely, smooth voice shared, "Status. Lacerations, burns, three broken bones in the hand, two lost fingernails. Immediate actions. Seal skin, stop bleeding. Seek human medical attention immediately. Prognosis. Not life-threatening."
Staggering up with the help of the wall, the gun still clutched in her grip, Mara went to the com. "Red!"
There was no answer. She'd just held him in her arms. And now he'd sacrificed himself for them. Derrick groaned as the medbot whirred and sprayed and hummed. She went and sat by his side, holding his good hand. Swiping angrily at her wet face, she assessed the bot. It seemed to be functioning well. Until she had access to Control, she wouldn't consider worst-case scenarios. Anything could happen in the field, and usually did. This assignment in particular. Double your pleasure, double your fun. The moments stretched, and she couldn't stand sitting here but had nowhere else to go.
Derrick rolled his head on the deck, turning to her. His cheek under her fingertips was as coarse as he was, but she wouldn't have him any other way.
"I can feel him. He's alive," Derrick murmured, eyes unfocused and dilated.
She froze, and then the door to Control hissed, and slid to the side. Joy and astonished gratitude flooded her so deep, so fast, she slumped back against the wall.
Red was there, on his knees, and a noxious, chemical odor rolled from the room. His mouth was one thin line, and a red bruise marred his temple. "Sorry, I was unconscious for a bit after the MN gas hit. Hull is sealed and sizzled. Two more clinging to the outside are gone. We're damaged but clear."
Thunk. Her head dropped back on the wall, and the bump from her earlier fight throbbed as she jarred it again. She closed her eyes. Life was too short to wait for the perfect moment. She wanted them to know, so she could move forward with claiming them. It was time to tell everything.
She repeated her earlier line. "Guys, there's something I have to tell you, and I don't think you're going to like it."
She opened her eyes and focused on Red wavering on his knees, one arm braced in the doorway. She looked at Derrick who was staring at her like she was insane. They had matching bruises just to the side of their right brow. That struck her as hysterical. Laughter bubbled up.
Chuckling, she managed, "I'm a UGA agent assigned to escort you to the Capitol Science Headquarters for a three month intensive workup, for which you will be compensated and thanked." Gasping with amusement at the way life messed with her, she struggled to get the air to finish her directive. "Frederick and Frederick Ravenscraft, consider yourself under official notification that your attendance is required within forty-eight hours at a UGA station, or you will be held in contempt and issued a ticket and armed summons."
There. That was better. No more secrets. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she grinned down at Derrick. She traced his scowling lips, thin and tight, and wanted to kiss him. Wanted to be held down and ravished by him until all she could do was scream his name. Turning her head to look over at Red, she smiled even wider, laughing outright at his glower. She wanted that face between her thighs, using his skilled knowledge of a woman's body where it counted most.
"Oh, yes, boys. You're going my way."
Derrick's arm felt as stiff as metal alloy in its cage of healing artificial skin. He wouldn't have minded except there were other things he'd rather be doing with his hand than cradling it to his chest while he lay flat on his back. At least he was in his own bed. Well, his and Red's bed, he supposed. He liked the view of Mara's ass.
She'd emerged fresh and sweet-smelling from the cleaning chamber and was currently poking through the wall dresser, searching for something to wear. How he'd like to see her long-limbed body drenched in the pelting spray of a real shower, but all that water was an on-planet luxury and not available on his nightcrater.
"Feeling better?" he asked. "'Cause I'm feeling pretty great myself. If you came over here, I could show you. Don't bother about putting anything on."
She cast an amused glance over her bare shoulder, the elegant line of her back and the high rounded curve of her butt going a long way toward reviving him from his happily medicated injuries. Her bright eyes sparkled and her lush lips curved. "You're serious? After all we've been through over the past hours, you have the energy to flirt?"
He grinned back, started to nod then shook his head. "No. Not really. But come and lie with me anyway, beautiful."
She strolled across the room toward him, hips swaying, eyelids half-lowered as she regarded him seductively. "Just a kiss and cuddle. Medbot's orders. You need to rest."
She pulled back the sheet and slid onto the bed beside him, her cool length pressed up against his hot side. Mara stroked her palm over his fauxskin-wrapped arm and trailed her fingers over his good hand. "How does your arm feel?"
"Like it's been shredded by a tricee," he said dryly, angling for sympathy. Mostly it was numb.
She dabbled across his skin and suddenly the injury seemed worth the pleasure of earning her comforting touch. He was glad to have her there---more than glad, overjoyed by her presence. Especially when they'd so nearly lost her. When he'd realized she was sealed in a room leaking oxygen, he'd been filled with a stone-cold focus. Not Mara. Not on his ship.
Now that she was here in his arms, safe and warm and smelling like springtime on Delteila, he realized he couldn't care less that she'd only met them because of her mission. At least she was here, this amazing woman with the skills of a warrior and the touch of an angel.
The door hissed open. Red stood framed in the entrance, also nude and freshly cleaned. He hesitated there, studying the pair of them entwined together on the large captain's bed.
Derrick's chest tightened with a surge of affection at the sight of his counterpart. He recalled the desolation he'd experienced earlier when he'd thought Red gone forever. When the split had first occurred, getting rid of his other self had been Derrick's greatest desire. Now he knew living without Red was unthinkable. The other man hadn't stolen his life, nor was he trying to usurp his power. He was Derrick, or a different version of him---perhaps the better one.
Derrick patted the sheets next to him. "Come on, loser. Bed's big enough."
Red grimaced at him but strode across the room and slipped onto the mattress beside Mara. "Checked the controls again. Ship's secure. I think we're safe to take a break till we reach Delteila."
Red slung his arm across Mara's hip and his fingers brushed against Derrick's hip---a touch that would've made Derrick recoil in alarm prior to today, but which now seemed warm and friendly. That strange prickling energy buzzed through him at Red's proximity. He breathed, accepting it. He closed his eyes and relaxed, amazed to realize how much of his energy over the past months had been spent struggling against his other self.
What would happen after they reached Delteila, how they'd respond to Mara's summons, and what their future would be were topics they still had to deal with, but for now, Derrick allowed himself to unwind and drift into a deep sleep.
Red woke with his cock stiff as the barrel of a pulse gun and pressed into something delightfully yielding and warm. He inhaled the aroma of fraca-blossoms and Mara. She shifted and made a soft sound in her throat that swelled his cock even harder. Damn, how he wanted to fill her, to feel her raging heat surrounding him and drawing him in.
He recalled the terror he'd felt as he fought to reach her through the sealed hatch door and realized how much he'd come to care for her in a very short time. When a man found a special woman like Mara, he'd best seize and hold on to her with all his strength.
He slid his hand the length of her side and hip, feeling her muscled, taut curves. He thrust lightly, gliding his cock along the groove between her cheeks and Mara wiggled again and pressed back against him.
Red opened his eyes.
Her shining black hair streamed over her shoulders and onto his chest, tickling him and making his nipples sharpen. He lowered his mouth to her shoulder, which emerged like a pale moon between the dark midnight strands. Mm, the woman tasted as good as she smelled, all flowery-sweet and salty musk.
Mara turned her head on the pillow, looking over her shoulder at him with sleepy, inviting eyes. Her rosy lips were parted and he bent to kiss them.
He glanced at Derrick, still asleep on Mara's other side. The man's injured arm was drawn up onto his chest and his skin looked paler than usual from loss of blood, despite the fact Red had administered an infusion while Mara had wrapped Derrick's arm.
How would the other Captain Ravenscraft feel if he woke and found Red making love to Mara right there beside him? Given his gesture to join them, Red thought Derrick probably wouldn't mind. Something had shifted between them over the past few tension-filled hours. The danger they'd faced, the near death, had given Red, at least, a new appreciation for his counterpart. From the look in Derrick's eyes when he'd beckoned him over, Red believed he felt the same way.
But now all thoughts of the other man left his mind as he kissed Mara. Her mouth was warm and soft. Her lips grasped greedily as her tongue met his and swirled around it. She was an arousing combination of strength and vulnerability; a woman who'd proven she could kick ass and shoot straight, but also melt as softly as snow on the moon of Aberia. She relaxed, shaping her mouth to his, reaching over her shoulder to hook one hand around his neck.
Red lost himself in the slickness of the kiss, which grew fiercer as he latched on more hungrily. When he pulled away so they could both draw breath, he glanced again at Derrick and saw his twin's eyes were open and watching them. Arousal darkened his eyes and his lips were parted as if he, too, was feeling the kiss. Perhaps he was. They had a sort of psychic connection which neither of them had explored too deeply. When one was in extreme arousal or danger, the other could feel it. The aching pleasure he'd suffered through while Derrick had fucked Mara before the attack had been bittersweet. What would it be like if they tried to access one another's feelings?
Leaning back, Red continued to look at Derrick in silent communication. He dipped his head, indicating approval, and the other man turned onto his side and took his place kissing Mara.
Behind her, Red grasped her hip and rocked his cock gently in the cleft between her buttocks, enjoying the warm friction. He slipped his hand down her belly to her mound and feathered his fingers through the softly curling hair there. He found the erect bud of her clit and teased it lightly, heard her moan muffled by Derrick's mouth. The soft, delighted sound coupled with the wonderful rubbing on his cock elicited an answering groan in Red.
Derrick stopped kissing Mara to move his mouth to her throat and lower, brushing his lips across her nipple. Red watched, aroused, as his counterpart drew the taut tip between his lips and suckled. Mara gasped and arched her back. She thrust her tits toward Derrick's tugging mouth.
She was beautiful like this, her face enraptured. He couldn't resist kissing those moist lips again although reaching them over her shoulder was an awkward angle. Meanwhile, he increased the pressure on her clit, circling until her hips thrust toward his touch. Then he moved lower, delving his fingers between her slick folds and finding her hot entrance. He plunged three inside.
His rigid cock ached and rubbing it against her bottom was no longer enough. He had to bury it inside her, to feel the joy of being clutched deep within. Withdrawing his fingers from the grip of her pussy, he scraped the edge of his thumbnail over her clit to make her shiver. Then he tugged his hand free from between her and Derrick where it was trapped. The other man's cock slid along the backside of his hand and the touch sent a thrill of pleasure through his own cock. Red didn't know if it was empathy or if he was simultaneously experiencing his own body's reactions and Derrick's as well.
Scooting lower on the bed, he tucked himself tight to Mara's back, and pushed her top thigh forward onto Derrick, exposing her pussy. He guided his cock to Mara's entrance and pushed easily inside. She was wet, open, ready. Her body welcomed him, clasping around him tightly as he thrust deep.
He groaned in relief. This was where he'd wanted to be from the first moment he saw Mara across the bar. But it was even better than he'd anticipated then because now he knew her so much better than he'd expected to in such a short time. She was cocky, funny, bold and brave, intelligent, sensitive and extremely sensual all in one package.
Even if she was here to take them to Capitol Science Headquarters, he didn't care. Mara was much more than just a UGA agent, and she was here now, in bed with them, because she wanted to be and not because she was playing them.
He wanted her. He had her. And whatever happened later, he would worry about later.
Pushing her thigh higher over Derrick's hip, he tucked his hips beneath her rump. Red pulled out and drove in again, dropping a kiss on the curve of her shoulder as he did so. She was so tight, hot and wet, and he controlled the urge to mindlessly pump. He couldn't help but focus on Derrick sucking harshly at one breast while he fondled the other. The sight was erotic and sent a renewed frisson of lust shivering through him. He pressed his face to the back of her neck, feeling the soft fall of her hair, and breathed in its sweet scent. His lips sizzled, and he wondered if it was because he felt the shadow of pressure, like he was suckling a woman's soft breast.
He drew out, reluctantly surrendering the heat of her body. And pushed in, finding his way to where he belonged. The rhythm of his thrusts was slow and easy. He wanted this to last a long time.
Mara pushed back onto him and gave another low moan. "Oh yeah. Right there," she murmured. And he made sure to maintain the exact angle and find that spot a second...and a third time.
Red looked up as Derrick rose at last from suckling Mara's breasts. He faced her, cradled her cheek and gazed into her eyes. The look Red saw in his counterpart's brown eyes must be exactly the expression on his own face. Delight, amazement, ecstasy.
Derrick leaned forward and kissed her, his mouth lightly covering her lips, drawing them in and letting them go gently. It was a soft, caring kiss, unlike his usual take no prisoners attack, although it quickly deepened and grew more aggressive. Red's own mouth tingled as if he were the one doing the kissing. And why not? He was.
Out. And in. He thrust again and stayed that way, buried within her, even though his body longed to rut hard and fast. The idea that he might be torturing Derrick's cock added to his excitement. He slipped his hand over her hip, down her stomach and reached for her clit again. Instead he accidentally encountered Derrick's cock. Rather than pull away, he impulsively grasped it in a hard grip.
Derrick's eyes flew open as he kissed Mara. He stared past her at Red, who raised a brow. Why should they hesitate to touch one another? He knew this body well---it was exactly the same as his after all. He'd masturbated too many times to fear touching his own cock.
And he knew just how he liked it, which meant he knew just how Derrick liked it, too. Red pulled on the long, thick shaft, a hard glide that made Derrick gasp. He tugged again, his hand pressed tight between Derrick and Mara's bodies. In fact, he thought his knuckle may have grazed her clit because she jerked suddenly.
Up and down, Red pumped his fist until Derrick responded by thrusting into his grip. He groaned and closed his eyes, allowing his other half to stroke him. Seeing Derrick give in sent a thrill through him. It was the closest the two had ever been, which had nothing to do with his physical touch. The bond that had joined them even as they fought against it was acknowledged at last. They were two halves of one man and could never truly be broken apart. Mara's heat surrounded him. She lay between them as a buffer and a bridge, while his hand chafed the hard cock. His own cock ached and throbbed in her deep softness, suffering two very different sensations.
Derrick's eyes flickered open and he looked at Red over the shoulder of the woman who had merged them. At last, his gaze held no hate, no resentment. But being Derrick, his words were brash and teasing. "You ready to give me a turn yet...Frederick?"
"If she wants me to," Red replied.
"Yesss," Mara's voice was hoarse. "I want you both inside me. Now!"
The two men exchanged glances, and Derrick grinned. "Guess we'd better give the lady what she wants."
Mara's body molded between the two hot, hard male bodies like a slab of plastique, pliant, nearly fluid, and so overheated she might melt away. The tension she'd been carrying inside her for so long from countless hours of travel, demanding work and too much isolation had completely evaporated. Between them, the Ravenscraft men had restored the sensual side of her which had been ground away by the rigors of her job. She was among friends. Between them, they'd brought her pleasure, fulfillment and so much more. Lying between them she felt safe, comforted, content and at peace.
Not to mention so highly aroused she was like one giant nerve ending, vibrating at the slightest touch. She'd noticed since first meeting the men that there was some invisible, high-powered electrical charge between them, and when a girl was caught in the middle of it, she sizzled.
Derrick's mouth sucked at her nipples while Red impaled her with his cock. She stretched and squeezed, aching to come. But the prospect of the pair of them filling her at the same time was infinitely more exciting. She craved it with the desperation of a woman gulping for air. Having recently experienced such a sensation, she knew this was a serious need.
"Yes," she repeated. "Do me now!" Her hips pushed down on Red's cock, but her ass against his belly was what really spiked her blood. Both of them. Double her pleasure.
Red pulled out of her completely and his loss was a sharp pang. But the emptiness was almost immediately filled by Derrick's cock. She glanced down, watching as his engorged shaft disappeared inside her body. His girth and length was an exact replica of Red's, but the internal pressure was different from rear entry to front. There'd been barely a moment's break between them and the momentum of thrusting was hardly interrupted.
She looked into Derrick's heavy-lidded eyes, so lust-filled he appeared drugged. His auburn hair tumbled over his forehead, strands sticking to the sheen of sweat. Perspiration slicked all three of them as their bodies shifted and glided against one another. He wrapped his bandaged arm around her and pulled her torso onto his while he rolled to his back. Lying across his chest, her aching breasts flattened. She moaned when he thrust up into her. Her ass felt so exposed.
Behind her, Red moved away for a moment. When he returned, he pushed her hair aside and kissed her spine all the way down to the top of her ass. Her cheeks tensed in anticipation as his cool, gel-coated finger slipped between them. He trailed it over her anus, down to her pussy and back up again. Then he tickled his fingertip around her clenching hole so lightly it made her lift up toward him. She wanted more, needed him inside her now. Needed both of them.
Red teased one finger inside, then two, stretching her entrance with a slick, easy touch. She clamped around their penetration, ass sizzling, vagina throbbing. Derrick continued to push into her and recede in slow, even strokes. Careful of his injury, she clutched his broad shoulders as he drove into her. Holding his big, strong form in her arms, feeling him move within her, was a revelation. She'd come to care for the brash, bold Captain who perfectly balanced the more gentle, caring aspect of his counterpart. How easily she could've lost him, lost both of them before she ever really got a chance to know them.
Now Red was inside her, easing the tip of his penis into her tight opening. Mara caught her breath at the stretching sensation, the slight burning as her ass adjusted to the intrusion. Her heart pounded and her blood sang through her veins as she wrapped her mind around the fact this was actually happening. She wondered what the original Frederick Ravenscraft might have been like before he was split in two. How lucky she was at his expansion. Both Fredericks at once were surrounding her, filling her, possessing her. Two perfect mirror images, but different men.
Her rear entrance stretched to the limit to accommodate Red's girth, and her pussy, too, was filled completely. A low groan came from behind her as Red pressed deeper into her channel. She moaned and rocked back, straining to fit both men inside her. The thrill of knowing they were aligned in her body, together, so close, so hot for her, kicked her heart. The pressure in her core was so tight, she felt like she'd fly apart. Her breath came in gasps. Red drew out. Her muscles let him go reluctantly.
It was Derrick's turn to moan, his mouth leaving her shoulder to clench hard. "Fuck. So good."
Surrounded by solid, masculine flesh, legs wrapped around hers, arms holding her tight, Mara's temperature rose. She whimpered in pleasure as she was buffeted between the two men. Derrick filled her with a hard punch of his hips, then Red eased in with a firm press. They worked in perfect synchronicity, in and out. The tension inside her grew.
A star was being born inside her. It was growing, tighter, hotter, and when it exploded, the supernova would be beautiful. Her nose pressed to Derrick's throat, she lapped at his neck, frantic. Red's warm breath gusted against the back of her neck. He paused inside her to whisper, "You all right? Is this good?"
"It's fantastic," she gritted out, barely able to speak. Her ass was on fire, and Derrick stretched her creamy folds, waiting. "More."
Red chuckled and moved again, drawing out and thrusting once more.
Derrick looked into her eyes, his own so dark with lust they looked black instead of brown. He didn't say anything, but his intense gaze spoke for him. He kissed her, covering her mouth, possessing it with his tongue as his cock filled her pussy. Derrick's lips ate at hers, and Red's feathered lightly, nipping the back of her shoulder.
Mara closed her eyes and surrendered to the bliss of total fulfillment. She was cradled between them, filled front and back and kissed until she could scarcely breathe. Swirling desire concentrated low in her belly, drawing in, condensing, preparing to explode outward in a powerful flash. She was still unprepared for the firestorm that shattered through her, searing her veins and frying her with ecstasy. Pulling away from Derrick's kiss, she cried out and squeezed her eyes closed. Every muscle seized and held.
Stars flashed before her darkened vision. Comets shot along her nervous system. Meteors showered through her. Mara was only dimly aware of Derrick's increased pounding and strangled groans, Red's ragged breathing and faster drilling. But she knew when they came, both inside her at once. They froze and their cocks pulsed, releasing.
The moment of union was extremely intense but all too brief. For a magical moment, they were one, their heartbeats, their breathing in sync. The three clung together, none moving. She wasn't lonely anymore. They were beautiful, her men. But then the moment inevitably passed. Red pulled out with a groan. Mara opened her eyes, her ass burning.
Derrick was looking back at her. He smiled as he gingerly moved his injured arm, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek. "You still want to turn us over to the government? I think you'd do better to go rogue agent and stay with us as our pleasure slave."
"Tempting." She smiled back. "But I'm a career woman. Can't abandon my duties." She rested the weight of her head in his big palm, and realized it was true. "I'm good at my job, and glad to do it. But it's been harder lately. I could use some good friends."
Red stroked his hand over her hair, smoothing strands away from her hot face. "Are you sure turning your friends in to the government is the right thing to do?"
They disentangled from one another. Derrick laid his arm above his head. Red rose from the bed to get quik-wipes and bottled water. Mara eased off Derrick to lie next to him, stretched and luxuriated in the afterglow of the most amazing, bone-melting, muscle-relaxing sex she'd ever experienced.
She accepted the water Red handed her, wiped herself clean with the disposable cloth he provided and settled back onto the bed. Red snapped the tangled covers smooth as he climbed in beside her, and once more Mara was bracketed by a handsome, red-haired captain on either side. This was bliss, and she could all too easily imagine traveling on with them like this. Falling off the grid and charting a whole new course in her life.
But her work was too important, her missions often vital to the safety of people on many worlds. Bringing in the Ravenscrafts was one minor assignment in a much bigger scheme.
Realizing that the two men had only been partially teasing about her giving up her agenda, she addressed their concern.
"Derrick and Red, I have to tell you, this has been the most outrageous twenty-some hours of my life. Not just the bar fight, not just the ridiculously fantastic sex, not just almost being devoured by tricees, but meeting you two."
She put a hand on each of the muscled bellies on either side of her. "I'd love to spend more time with you. I want to get to know each of you better. But I can't abandon my job, and I truly believe allowing scientists to study your anomaly might be of great benefit to all humans. I'll excuse myself from this assignment before I drag you in under protest, but I wish you'd consider the common good when you make your decision about whether to go with me to the Capitol Science Headquarters."
"Once they've got us, they're not going to let us go again," Derrick said. He kicked sullenly at the sheet on her left.
"You say it'll only be for a few weeks, but I know these government types," Red chimed in. "They could have us locked up for life." His hands pleated the sheet in agitation.
She shook her head, stroking around their belly buttons soothingly. "A few samples and some testing and charting, that's it. They'll probably want to keep tabs on you afterward for follow up." Mara turned her head to look into Red's eyes. "But if you're right, if by some chance they try to keep you beyond the length of time they promise, I won't let that happen."
She twisted her neck to the other side and regarded Derrick with an equally solemn promise. "I'd take names and kick ass until they let you go. If I had to go in blasters blazing, I would. I'd never leave my men behind."
She stressed the possessive, letting them know of her claim on them.
One corner of Derrick's mouth quirked in a smile. "Yours, eh?"
"Mine," she confirmed firmly.
His gaze shifted to Red on her other side. "What do you think? It's been getting hard to book jobs. We'd be able to keep flying legit if they let us go."
"We? I could still disappear, open my own repair shop. You'd stay free, have the ship to yourself."
Mara's heart clenched. She whipped her gaze over to Red, but his face was blanked like the professional trader he was.
The silence spun out until she thought they must be able to hear her heart. Arguments tumbled on her lips. But this was their decision. Either they went their separate ways and stayed a mystery, or they stayed together, where she could access them.
Derrick cleared his throat. "I'd rather you stayed."
"If we keep together, it sounds like we don't have a lot of choice. Might as well give in and let them run their damn tests," Red growled.
"After all, it's for 'the children'." Derrick put a mock halo around the words. "Building a better life for the worlds."
"It just might, you know," Mara said. "Maybe they'll discover some medical marvel from studying you two and how this...split happened. Or maybe they could even..."
She stopped, horrified at what she'd almost said. The idea that the Capitol's scientists might find a way to join the two men into one again had never occurred to her until the words were coming out of her mouth.
"Maybe they could even what?" Red pushed up onto his elbow and looked at her. Suddenly his expression was guarded. He frowned and his eyes narrowed.
"She's saying maybe they could fix us, make us one again." Derrick wore an identical frown.
Mara didn't like the sudden shift in mood. She'd never intended to suggest such a thing, especially since she was quite happy with the two of them just as they were. "No. I didn't mean that. I'm sure such a thing would be impossible."
Red gestured back and forth between himself and Derrick. "Impossible like this was impossible? If a ridge storm could create a time glitch that made two versions of us, nothing's impossible."
Derrick remained silent, picking at the edge of the fauxskin on his arm.
"I for one don't want to be snuffed out of existence," Red said, not shouting but hardly calm.
"You wouldn't be. You'd be joined together into one, just like you were before." Mara shook her head, horrified with herself for still sounding like she wanted this. "I'm certainly not saying that's what I would want. It was merely a thought...a stupid one I didn't think through. It's not like they'd make you. You wouldn't have to rejoin if you didn't want to."
"I've considered it and I've decided I'm happy as I am now." Red paused then glared at Derrick. "It's you who couldn't stand being split. You who've wanted me gone ever since the damn thing happened."
Derrick stopped picking at his bandage and stared at his counterpart with an equally challenging glare. "Well, I don't anymore either, all right? I like things the way they are too."
"Good," Red snapped.
"Great," Derrick barked back.
"Nothing more to argue about."
"I guess not."
Mara's gaze pinged between the two replicas with their matching scowls, and all of a sudden the surreal bizarreness of watching her men snipe about being happy apart was too much. A burst of ill-timed laughter escaped her. She clapped her hand over her mouth to suppress another, but it leaked out between her fingers.
"I'm sorry. It's not funny." She knew it wasn't. This was their lives---or life---they were discussing, but she couldn't hold back the storm of giggles. Too much drama and too little sleep and way too much sex had made her giddy.
The corner of Derrick's mouth quirked and Red's hard eyes softened.
"Yes, it is," Derrick said, and then he was laughing too. "It's ludicrous and funny."
"Damn funny," Red agreed with a smile.
Mara fought her laughter under control and sobered. "Even if they should figure out a way to join you again, they can't do it without your permission. If you two don't want it, it won't happen. I'll make sure of that."
"I believe you will," Red said. "We trust you, Agent Brannigan."
Derrick flopped from his back to his side, rubbing his injured arm with his free hand. "Don't worry, Mara, you've sold us. We'll go with you as soon as we fuel up and make repairs on Delteila."
"Afterward, I really want to continue to see you," Mara admitted shyly. "This hasn't been about business for me, not what the three of us shared. I don't want it to be a one-off."
There was a pause before Red answered. "I think I speak for both of us when I say we don't either. This was something far beyond a fling. We want to spend more time with you, too, and really get to know you."
"It's a date," Derrick said. "When we get out of the mad scientists' lair, we'll meet again on Delteila." A slow smile spread across his face. "I hear some of the hotels have special theme rooms equipped with devices that amp your senses so high the slightest touch makes you come. Sounds like my kind of place."
Mara pushed at his chest. "Do you have a thought that doesn't originate in your cock?"
"Few. But I'm also thinking of the contacts to be made there. Good place to do business, take on cargo."
Red added, "That's Derrick, always putting the ship's business first."
She laughed and snuggled back down between her two gorgeous captains. "All right then. We'll meet again on Delteila."
Red's voice was as silky as his hand where he trailed it breast to belly. "But in the meantime, it'll be a long trip from Delteila to the capitol on Rasedule. I'm sure we can think of many interesting ways to pass the time."
Mara stood up from the controls, the stabilizers locked and boarding gate sealed. Although they'd shared video chats, she hadn't seen Derrick and Red in the flesh in two months. They hadn't enjoyed their stay at the Headquarters. The scientists had wanted a promise to return, and they'd refused. A trial was pending on their rights if the government forced the issue, but she'd made sure they were released on the date they'd agreed to upon admittance.
In the meantime, she'd picked up their ship out of the dock, and taken it into the loading hub. Unbelievably, Derrick had managed to arrange a light cargo run from Rasedule to Delteila. And Red had managed the reservations on Delteila, keeping them a secret.
She'd been tempted to hack their account to see where they were taking her. Would it be Minder's Delight, the hotel that augmented flesh and cortex that Derrick had mentioned in bed? Maybe it would be the sensual, decadent Shareem Gardens, since Red had picked up a desire to grow things in the Lab. Then there was the fact Derrick had asked her if she liked purple. Royal Tower had a purple theme. She shivered in her gauzy black scarf-dress, her body humming with anticipation.
It didn't matter if they stayed on the ship the whole time. Their bed was big and soft, and the only thing they needed. Trailing her fingers along the smooth, cool metal of the hall to their stateroom, she smiled, remembering the heart-pounding moments she'd been sealed in it during the tricee attack. The government had paid for all their ship repairs, since she was able to argue that the attack happened while they were en route to their summons. At the entrance to the bedroom, she paused, critically eyeing her preparations.
Derrick had told her to get naked. Red had asked if she'd like to eat together first. On the counter near the dresser, plates of finger foods were arranged---fresh fruit and warm, soft bread, spicy cheese, and coarse, salty crackers. Wine, ale, and candy-syrup stood to the side.
Stepping to the bed, she smoothed the slick red sheets. Of course, red. She looked good in red. Smiling, she crawled into the middle of the bed, her breasts lifted by the delicate bands of the bodice, but bare. Sheer black scarves feathered across her belly, framing her hips. Her very bare, very smooth hips.
The shipcom announced in a soothing, synthetic voice, "Captains Derrick and Red Ravenscraft have boarded."
A huge grin split Mara's face. She stretched, fanning her hair above her head, flicking the long black talons she'd needed for her last mission. Admiring the curving nails, she enjoyed the way they so quickly pebbled her nipples when she dragged them across her skin. Two months was a long time to remember sex so good it made drool leap to her mouth every time she thought of it. Two months was a long time to go without hugging friends who made her laugh, only vidding across the cold reaches of space, no touching, no tasting, no kissing.
Two months was up.
The sound of pounding footsteps echoed on the decking. She flicked her nipple and licked her lips at the sting. Two men burst through the door. They were identical in their height and how their shoulders filled out their leather jackets. They were also identical in their clean-shaven, smooth, chiseled faces, and their finger-length, rich auburn hair.
Mara sat up. "You got your scar removed. You cut your hair!"
"Yup." Speaking in unison, both men grinned at her.
She studied them. One chocolate gaze drilled her breasts, eyes like a supernova. Then he met her glance with a wide grin. One brown gaze was more serious, searching her eyes. That man held his breath.
She smiled at him. "Breathe, Red. Come give me a hug."
He strode to the bed, reaching, pulling her close. Over his shoulder, she licked her lips at Derrick. "Nude. Now, Derrick." Wrapping her arms around Red, something eased inside her. She settled against him.
With a shouted laugh, Derrick shrugged out of his jacket and pulled the green undershirt over his shoulders. "How'd you know?"
"You're my friends. I know who you are."
Red's lips pressed hard to the side of her neck. "Mara. You smell so good."
Derrick knelt on the bed next to them, nude. His hand settled on her head, and she leaned into it. Inhaling, she held the scent of men and lust and strength. "You do, too."
Red laid her back, his fingers brushing one nipple like soft fire. "I can't believe you're here."
She raised one brow. "I said I would be. Reporting for one whole week's vacation, in the tender care of the Ravenscrafts."
Derrick swung one of her legs wide. Her breath caught at the cool ship air on her melting folds. Cream eased from her, and she squirmed. His hand kneaded her thigh, thumb sweeping along the crease of her leg.
"Red told me I had to respect you. He said we had to talk first, to get our bearings, that this wasn't a hook-up in a bar. He said I---"
"Shut up and fuck her, Derrick." Red's hands closed over her breasts, pressing her torso hard to the bed while he squeezed them tightly. Dragging his fingers to the tips, he pinched and pulled at her nipples. The shock of his perfect touch---Red, finally---so sudden on her body, tore a cry from her.
Derrick's cock plugged the entrance to her vagina, the soft skin there hot with the pressure he held. "Mara?"
"Yes!"
They were kneeling side by side, one between her legs, one next to her hips. Everything about them was the same, the lines on their face, their mouths, their brows. They were so beautiful, inside and out. Double her fun. "Please, yes!"
Derrick slammed his thick cock inside her, and it burned, stretched, ached, and exploded pleasure through her belly. Red grunted, scrambling off the bed to shed his jacket, shirt, boots, and pants. Finally, he was up next to her face. His hand cradled her head, turning her dazed face toward him as Derrick shafted out and in so hard her chest rocked.
"Open."
She did, and he put his tip into her mouth. Closing her lips tight, she pulled hard, lapping wildly with her tongue, her mouth sizzling with the earthy taste of him.
Derrick plunged into her, and she sucked. Derrick plunged in again, pushing her thighs wider, and Red's thumb swept her throat. Derrick rammed her, his deepest strike yet, and Red's other hand traced one of her brows in a delicate counterpoint. It had been too long. She'd dreamed of them so much. Sex with other guys hadn't even crossed her mind, and she was hungry for the magic of her Captains.
"It's been too long," Red murmured.
Focusing on his tight face above her, she ran her tongue hard across his hole, then swirled it around his tip. With her eyes, she told him she agreed.
Red looked over at Derrick, and she followed his gaze.
Derrick had been staring at her nipples, but he seemed to sense them looking. He met Red's narrowed stare. "Yes, fuck yes. She's perfect."
He slammed deep again, grinding his hips against her clit. The world turned white, pleasure arching her back in a hard, seizing grip. Derrick roared, hammering into her with no finesse or rhythm, spiking her orgasm into painful, extended moments. Red's taste coated her throat, and she swallowed on a groan, sucking and lapping every drop.
Derrick went stiff, shaking, and collapsed on her, his weight healing the surprising fragments born in their absence.
After a last swallow, she widened her mouth, and Red eased away. He reached across her chest, and Derrick lifted his hand to meet Red's. Their palms clasped, held, and came apart, each set of blunt fingers claiming one breast. She swore electricity ran through her body from nipple to nipple.
Shivering, she whispered, "What was that?"
"Just touching my reflection," Red murmured, his thumb pressing her nipple.
Derrick grunted. "It's you. You bring us together. It's like we can cross the mirror, with you."
Both Mara and Red lifted their heads to stare at Derrick. She was astonished at his eloquent statement.
He winked. "Can't wait to get more, but a ship waits for no man. Be right back. Want to check the new MN hydrants they installed." He lifted himself, planted a hard kiss on her lips, grabbed up his pants, and left the room.
Red circled her nipple. "You need to understand he's in love with this ship."
"I do understand that." She raised one leg, bending her knee up, unsettled by the "L" word. "And you, Red? Are you going to check out the hydroponic room you had installed?"
"Naw. I'd like to hear how your mission ended." He smoothed his hand down off her chest, along her arm and lifted her hand, examining her new, long nails. "These are a little scary."
She laughed, pulling away from him, and wrestling him to his back. He resisted, but was no match. Straddling his ribs, she unabashedly rubbed her throbbing core against his belly. "They're not scary at all. They're fun. Let's explore their various uses, shall we?" She grinned her most evil grin, and wiggled her eyebrows.
Red's face softened. "Only you could think talons are fun." His hands settled on her hips. "And only you could teach me how to see them as fun."
Tracing his lips with one sharpened tip, she cocked her head. "Trust me?"
"Yeah."
Derrick's voice came over the com. "Disengaging from the hub. Red, do you freaking trust me to set the bots in charge of our course?"
Red reached above his head to the panel set in the top of the bed. He tipped his head and called out louder. "Yeah."
"Thank you. Finally. Sheesh." The speaker snapped off.
Red's lips opened, and his tongue lapped up her talon. The sight sent soft flutters through her belly.
"Ready, Secret Agent Girl?"
She lowered her face down to his, and her hair curtained around them. "Yeah," she breathed, and kissed him.
The End
About the Authors:
Whether you're a fan of contemporary, paranormal, or historical romance, you'll find something to enjoy. My style is very personal and my characters will feel like well-known friends by the time you've finished reading. I'm interested in flawed, often damaged, people who find the fulfillment they seek in one another. Stop by my web site, http://bonniedee.com or my group blog, Erotic Muses at http://eroticmuses.blogspot.com. For future updates on my books, join my Yahoo group, http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bonniedee/
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Mima is a dreamer in upstate New York. When people query her on what she's reading, she answers proudly and simply, "A really sexy romance." She firmly believes women know the difference between fantasy and reality, and need both. No matter how sweet the kids, husband, mother, cats, house(work), and job are. Mima is at runemima@yahoo.com and www.mimawithin.com
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Urban fantasy world: TerranRealm.com
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