Captured Rapture: 3 (Mercy) (7 page)

BOOK: Captured Rapture: 3 (Mercy)
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Destiny. A word I’d never believed
in. A concept I’d always considered
shyte
.

And then Torr…

I squeezed his balls and thrust my
hips upward, taking him deeper, deeper. Letting him fill me, possess me.
Letting him consume me—and he was correct. Even in my dreams it had neverfelt
this right. And that
was
frightening. And wonderful.

Mine not just to claim, to fuck,
but mine to—

Love?

I cried out at the impossible
notion, my orgasm detonating in my core, incinerating rational thought. Torr
roared and I felt his body shift, his muscles strain and flex and coil. Liquid
heat flooded my sex, and through the rapturous surge of my climax, I heard him
roar again.

I opened my eyes—for a split second—and
witnessed the man fight the dragon he was. Fight the shift trying to transform
him. The sight terrified and elated me, and I came again.

I let the absolute perfection of
our mating take me away and came one last time, Torr’s name bursting from my
lips.

Chapter Six

 

Y’know those corny New Earth vids
where the hero and the heroine have earth-shattering sex and then fall asleep
in each other’s arms? The kind the Galactic Union deemed illegal and perverse
and banned from public access? I’ve always thought they were sappy,
gag-inducing
shyte
completely fabricated by the deluded minds of some
fragile, needy females incapable of seeing life for what it really was—cold,
harsh and brutal.

But I was currently living one.

I don’t actually know when I fell
asleep wrapped in Torr’s arms, his warm, hard, naked body pressed to mine, but
sometime after we’d both climaxed for about the tenth time or so, sleep claimed
me. Blissful sleep filled with blissful dreams of surreal happiness and
contentment. Dreams of making love time and again to the man holding me. Dreams
of moving through the darkness of space with nothing but Torr and the beat of
my wings to keep me company.

Good dreams. Dreams that felt more
real than the life I’d spent living.

When I finally woke, the warm
memory of those dreams lingering in my subconscious, I lay perfectly still and
listened to Torr’s soft snoring. I could feel his breath on the back of my
neck; gentle, even exhalations that tickled the hairs at my nape and made my
nipples pinch tight.

Lying in Torr’s arms now, the feel
of his body molded to mine on the soft, fur-covered sleeping pallet, the
absolute sense of safety and contentment his presence awakened in me was the
single most wonderful experience of my life.

I had to get out of there.

Now.

I slipped from his embrace,
ignoring the dismay slicking through my body like an icy fog and moving away
from the sleeping pallet on silent feet. I’m very good at moving silently. My
instructors at the academy had noted the fact many times during my Enforcer
training. Fraz called me a freak, but something about the way he said it always
made me kinda smile. I could move completely without sound and I was fast. Very
fast.

At this point in time, I’d never
moved faster or with more stealth.

I crossed the carved-out room, a
distant part of my mind telling me
why
I could move so quietly and so
quickly. It all made sense now. Of course I could move faster than the wind and
without a sound. I was Wyver—

I cut that thought dead and turned
my attention to locating my clothes. They had to be here somewhere, otherwise I
was heading back to Port Mercy buck naked.

Behind me, Torr’s soft snores
continued. I resisted the urge to turn around—just. I couldn’t risk it. I
couldn’t stay here with him, and if I looked at him again I knew exactly what I
would do. Sprint back to the pallet, climb onto its luxurious furs and kiss awake
the man I never wanted to leave so we could continue our explorations of each
other’s bodies and begin adding to our orgasm total with climax number eleven.

Shyte
, I had to get out of
there.

My throat grew tight and, just as I
was about to throw up my hands in frustration, I saw my clothes—non-regulation
combat pants, battle boots and heavy rubber vest—folded and stacked neatly on a
low bench to my right. I scurried across the short distance and snatched them
up, tucking them under my arm before searching for my partner’s favorite blade.

Time pressed down upon me. If I
didn’t get out of there soon, Torr would wake and then who knows what would
happen.

You know. It’s why you’re wasting
time looking for Fraz’s knife. You want Torr to wake and find you. You want to
stay with him.

I bit back a sharp sigh. Fraz would
have to get himself a new blade. I couldn’t risk it. I was a chicken-shit
coward, I know, but I couldn’t deal with it all. Torr, his revelations, my
destiny…
shyte
. My species. It was too much and I had to get away. I had
to clear my head and digest the insanity of the last few hours, and I couldn’t
do that while in Torr’s presence.

I scurried back across the room,
hoping the narrow niche in the far wall was the way out.

Beyond the recess was a long
passageway through the rock, a muted light at the end painting the walls a faded
red.

My heart skipped a beat and I
ground my teeth, staring at that light. It was the light of the moon’s surface.
All I had to do was run through the passageway, activate my jet cycle’s
return-to-me system via the trigger I’d planted in the sole of my boot, climb
astride and I was away.

Fifty yards and I was gone.

Finally, I turned and looked at
Torr. Ran my gaze over his sleeping form. Burned the memory of his image into
my mind, my soul.

Mine to claim. Mine to fuck.
Mine to—

I didn’t want to know how that
thought finished. It was too daunting. Too scary. I spun on my heel and fled
down the passageway.

The first cowardly act of my life.

And despite spending the entire
twenty minutes flinging across the moon’s surface on my jet cycle, and the
entire thirty-minute return flight to Port Mercy in the shuttle telling myself
I’d done the right thing, I still felt as if I’d just ripped my own heart from
my chest.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

* * * * *

“Where the fuck have you been?”

I jumped at Fraz’s furious yell,
banging the back of my head on the shower spout with enough force that black
stars filled my vision.
Shyte
, that hurt.

Slamming my hand against the water
flow regulator, I turned, glaring at my partner as I stepped—dripping wet and
entirely too naked—from the shower cubicle. “Fucking.” I snatched up a towel,
wrapped it around my torso and pushed past him, grabbing my clothes as I did
so. Fifteen minutes standing under icy cold water, staring at the gray metal
wall, had done nothing to destroy the churning ache in my stomach and chest.
Fifteen minutes spent trying to forget a man I knew I never could. Fifteen
minutes trying to ignore the last word of a thought forever branded in my soul.

Mine to claim. Mine to fuck.
Mine to—

“Well, while you were getting
laid,” Fraz followed me from the tiny bathroom into our apartment, “I was doing
some GU work.”

I paused halfway through shoving
one damp leg into my combat trousers and gave him a sharp look over my wet
shoulder. “You found our perp?”

Fraz smiled, and if my mind weren’t
so preoccupied with a certain bloody dragon shifter, I would have flinched.
Whatever my partner had been up to while I was screwing around—both literally
and psychologically—he was proud of it.

“Found him.” He nodded, his slitted
eyes glinting with malicious glee. “And if you hurry the fuck up and get
dressed, we can nail him.”

I yanked my trousers up and pulled
on my vest. My heart started slamming in my chest. This was what I needed.
Something to keep my stupid, preoccupied mind off Torr. “Details,” I barked,
grabbing my gutting blade from the end of my bunk and sliding it into its
sheath at the base of my spine. It was the only one I had left after leaving
the rest of my bladed arsenal—as well as Fraz’s favorite blade—back on Torr’s
moon. As soon as we had the spice dealer locked up, I’d have to go on a
shopping spree.

Fraz smirked, a wholly unnerving
expression from someone with such a nasty face. “Spied him in Steam last night.
Just before that walking mountain Jareth chucked him out. I followed him until
he stopped at the BDSM joint next to the gym.” Fraz’s smirk stretched wider,
showing a frightening number of needle-sharp teeth. “It seems our spice
dealer’s got a taste for highly illegal Slessorian anal probes.”

I frowned, scraping my wet hair
into a rather messy knot at the back of my head. “And?”

Fraz chuckled, throwing one of my
boots at me. “And Your Pain Is My Pleasure is currently out of stock of highly
illegal Slessorian anal probes.”

My own smirk pulled at my lips.
“Let me guess? You just happened to know where to get your hands on some and
offered to supply him.” I pushed my left foot into my boot and caught the right
as Fraz tossed it to me. “Aren’t you a considerate little Bo’aa.”

Fraz winked. “Just sticking to my
species’ stereotype. We
are
known for our sexual depravity, y’know.”

I snorted, stomping both feet until
my boots snugged them perfectly. “Never thought I’d be pleased by that fact
until now.”

“Ha.” Fraz turned and walked to the
door, grinning at me over his shoulder. “I know you want some.”

“Every second of every day,
partner,” I told him with a grin, pulling my spare molecular disruptor from my
locker before following him to the door. My heart thumped. Action. Just what I
needed. If I was lucky, the drug pusher would try something stupid and I’d get
to beat the shit out of him. What better way to clear my head?

It took me a few seconds to realize
Fraz stood by the open door, studying me. “What?”

He cocked his head to the side, his
eyes narrow. “Are you okay?”

The New Earth term sounded awkward
coming from his lipless mouth, but that wasn’t what made me want to fidget. In
a weird sort of way, Fraz was the closest thing I had to family. Sure, not a
particularly loving family member, but hey, at least he was always there. He’d
been my partner since the academy and looked out for me even when I didn’t want
him to—but I’d never once heard him sound worried for me. It was
uncharacteristic, and it made me angry. And reminded me with a big mental slap
just how brilliantly I’d failed putting Torr behind me. So much for leaving it
all on the moon. “I’m fine,” I snapped, pushing past Fraz. “Let’s get to work.”

Fraz didn’t look convinced but he
let the topic drop. We strode through the spaceport, heading for the rendezvous
point he’d arranged with our perp. The plan was simple—Fraz would offer the
anal probe for a ludicrous fee. Our drug dealer would no doubt balk at his
asking price. Fraz would call the deal off, and just as he turned away from the
perp, I would appear, bitching to my “salvage partner” that he’d finished off
the last of our spice. Trap set.

The second the dealer offered to
pay for the Slessorian anal probe with a trade of product,
bam
, we had
him. Yes, it was entrapment, but the days of following the GU Enforcer codebook
had long gone. When it came to scum like this bastard, there
was
no
code. Whatever it took, that’s what we did. No matter how unsavory, dubious or
ethically questionable. It was why Fraz and I had been assigned to the case in
the first place. We did what was necessary and our commander looked the other
way until the job was done.

Wrong? Maybe.

Effective? Always.

By the time we’d crossed the
spaceport to an isolated and unused wing on level eight, Fraz had put his game
face on. I wondered for a brief moment if that face wasn’t just a touch too
criminally malicious, before dropping back behind him to take up my position in
the shadows of the closest service corridor. It was the perfect location for a
takedown, one we’d scouted out day one after arriving on the port. The spice
dealer wouldn’t be able to see me until I came bursting onto the scene, pissed off
and showing all the signs of spice withdrawal.

Fraz continued down the passageway
until he reached the viewing wall. The massive expanse of unbreakable tempered
glass presented a glorious view of the star-studded space surrounding Port Mercy.
It also made for a very safe backdrop for the “exchange”. With no entry ports,
vents or internal systems, there was no way someone could take Fraz by surprise
from behind. Taking the
perp
by surprise from behind would be my job.

I watched my partner lean against
the glass and cross his ankles, his hands shoved into the deep pockets of his
trousers. He really was quite scary to look at, but for some reason, something about
the way he stood made my gut itched.

Something felt…

“Why the fuck did you pick this
place,” a surly voice griped, and I pressed myself hard to the wall behind me,
keeping my hand on the butt of my disruptor.

Our spice dealer stormed past me,
heading for Fraz. I studied his back, noting the plated armor jacket he wore.
Obviously, being a lowlife criminal git meant he was paranoid about getting
stabbed in the back. I grinned, looking forward to proving that paranoia
correct.

Fraz grinned as well, doing his
best to look apologetic. “I like the view,” I heard him answer. He shifted his
position slightly, adjusting his hands in his pockets. I knew he was adjusting
his grip on his small but ridiculously lethal de-atomizer pistol, but what
would our perp think?

“Big fuckin’ view of nothing,”
grumbled our crook with the anal probe fetish.

I couldn’t see his face, but
something about his voice made my gut itch again. I ground my teeth. Damn it.
Something just felt…

“You got the device?”

I cocked an eyebrow, forcing my
focus on the dealer’s back.
Device
? Now that was one name for a probe
I’d never heard before.

Fraz pulled his left hand out of
his pocket, holding up a long, thin object wrapped in soft black syntho-silk.
“Right here.”

The perp’s spine stiffened, and I
slid my fingers around the grip of my disruptor. “Lemme see it.”

“Uh-uh.” Fraz shook his head.
“Gotta pay before you play.”

I saw the perp’s wide shoulders
bunch and his right hand moved to his right hip, his left hand a balled fist by
his side. “Shoulda known this was gonna be a pain in the ass. You damn Bo’aas
are all the same.”

Fraz’s eyes narrowed to slits and I
held my breath. This could go pear-shaped real quickly. “The only pain in the
ass,” Fraz stated, jiggling the long, black parcel in his grip, “will be yours
when you cough up the credits.”

I gritted my teeth. You had to give
it to Fraz—he had a certain charm.

BOOK: Captured Rapture: 3 (Mercy)
8.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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