Mercenaries (4 page)

Nathan's gaze slid to the redhead again.
“It's a thought,”
he admitted.
“But she's not exactly in our weight class.”

Just as he was feeling virtuous, she slid off her stool and started toward them. Head up, shoulders back, pretty breasts leading the way.

“Maybe not,”
Sebastian commed,
“But does
she
know that?”

Nathan blinked. That stiff-legged march should have looked awkward as hell. Instead, it gave her lush body a sweet little feminine jiggle that made him want to beg for mercy.

Even through the fog of alcohol and lust that surrounded him, he felt a flicker of wariness. What the hell did she want, anyway?

Unless . . . Nathan's imagination instantly went into overdrive. Maybe she wasn't a virgin. Maybe she was one of those women whose fantasies centered around bondage and wicked male mercenaries. There was nothing he loved more than obliging that particular kink.

If Red turned out to be a closet submissive, he'd have her naked, bound, and stuffed full of cock before she had time to get the come-on out of her mouth. It had been way,
way
too long since he'd played “seduce the captive” with a pretty sub.

Red stopped beside the table and looked down at them, her green eyes wide and wary. She licked those lush lips as if trying to work up the guts for whatever kinky request she had in mind. Nathan watched her tongue and went hard and hot as a cheap beamer pistol.

“Maker's blessings on you,” she said at last. “I'm Trinity Yeager.”

He nodded, trying to paste a polite, professional expression on his face—at least until he knew what she wanted. “Captain Nathan August of the
Starrunner
.” Gesturing at his friend, he ignored the blond's knowing grin. “My executive officer, Sebastian Cole. What can we do for you?” And would it, please God, happen to involve cable restraints and a fantasy about vicious, well-hung mercenaries?

He probably shouldn't have had that last mead.

“Honored.” Red lifted her chin and braced her feet apart like a trooper in parade rest. “I have a proposal of sorts. A request.”

“Yes?” Nathan prompted, and was faintly embarrassed at the hot purr of anticipation in his own voice. He ordinarily had more subtlety.

“I want to be a mercenary. I'm interested in joining your crew.”

Stunned, he stared at her, his alcohol-fuzzed brain struggling to follow the abrupt conversational detour.

Sebastian roared with laughter. The smile faded from Trinity's face as she looked over at him, a hint of hurt in her green eyes. “Oh, Ms. Yeager, I'm sorry,” he gasped. “I'm not laughing at
you.
”

Nathan, knowing exactly who his friend was laughing at, kicked him viciously under the table. Sebastian only hooted louder.

When his executive officer's howls finally subsided into wheezes, Nathan said coolly, “I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that's out of the question.”

He expected her to instantly back down from his chill, forbidding tone. Instead she straightened even more. She probably had no idea what squaring those shoulders did to her luscious breasts. Nathan clenched his teeth and tried to ignore them.

“I'm in good physical shape, Captain,” Trinity said. “I really am stronger than I look.”

“Oh, yeah,”
Sebastian commed.
“I'll bet she has a real tight grip.”

“If she does, you won't be finding out.”
Nathan shot his second-in-command a glare that made him go poker-faced. Sebastian quelled, he returned his attention to Trinity. “Whatever your physical abilities, you're not a cyborg, Ms. Yeager. The rest of the crew have nanotech enhancements that make them far stronger than a human could ever hope to be.” He hoped she hadn't noticed the slight slur in “nanotech.” That last mead really had been a bad idea.

She leaned forward to rest her palms on the table. Nathan struggled to keep his gaze from drifting to the tight bodice of her unisuit. “I realize that. I plan to get the implants myself as soon as I can save the funds.”

Damn, he was not in the mood for this. “Why—so you can kill people? That's what mercenaries do, Ms. Yeager. We're killers. We hire out our ships and our bodies to the highest bidder. Is that what you want?”

“And if so, can I make a bid?”
Sebastian commed.

“I,”
Nathan told him, thoroughly out of patience,
“am going to kick your ass the minute we get back to the ship.”

“. . . father was a mercenary before we immigrated here,” Trinity was saying, unable to overhear the silent byplay without a com implant. “I heard his stories, I know what it's like. I want that lifestyle, Captain August. I want to travel to other planets, and I'm willing to fight—even kill—to help people defend themselves against aggressors. . . .”

“Sometimes, Ms. Yeager, we
are
the aggressors.” The idealism shining in those green eyes was rapidly eating away at what little patience he had left. “Being a merc is a violent, bloody ride that often ends in violent, bloody ways. This is a nice planet. Stay here, do whatever it is you do, raise babies and die of old age. I assure you, you'll be much happier.”

“Captain, I'm well aware of the risks of being a mercenary. My mother died in combat.” Her curvy upper lip lifted, exposing small white teeth in a snarl. “As for this being a ‘nice planet,' next week the bigots who run this colony are going to auction me off to the highest bidder. He'll marry me whether I like it or not, and the laws of Orville's Paradise will give him the right to beat or even rape me whenever he wants. And if I complain, if I don't obey him in every last detail, he could kill me without having to answer too many difficult questions. Your life may be hard and violent and bloody, but so is mine. And at least you're
free
!”

“Damn,”
Sebastian transmitted in an awed tone,
“there's a lot more in that fluffy package than meets the eye.”

Nathan stared at her, caught flat-footed for one of the few times in his life. The situation she was describing was appalling, assuming she wasn't exaggerating. Yet every instinct told him he had no business exposing such an innocent to a mercenary's life, no matter what her alternatives were.

It wasn't simply that she was female. Women made up half his crew, and he'd have no hesitation about kicking down a door with any of them. But an upbringing on a religious colony, extreme or not, did not equip anyone for the hard, violent life of a merc.

It was one thing to fuck the little redhead. It was another to take her into a situation that could get her crippled or killed. “If that's true . . .”

“It is.”

“. . . I'm doubly sorry. But we just don't take passengers. Everybody on my ship works, and I don't have any openings.” He winced and waited for Sebastian to com,
“But wouldn't you love to fill one of hers?”
For once, though, his executive officer remained wisely silent.

“There's got to be something,” Trinity insisted, her voice edged with desperation. “Cook. I'm a good cook. . . .”

“We don't need a cook. We eat prepackaged rations, like every other military company.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “I appreciate your willingness to—”

“Any job at all, no matter how menial,” she said, fiercely demanding. “Anything.”

Frustrated, uncomfortable, and more than a little horny, Nathan lost his temper. “I need a fuck toy,” he snarled. “How's that?”

She stared at him, her soft, pink mouth curving into an O that looked entirely too dick-ready for the peace of his libido. Sebastian raised a hand as if shielding his eyes. Grimly Nathan waited for her to explode in outrage.

“All right,” she said.

“I'm sorry I can't . . . What?” The room revolved slowly. He
really
shouldn't have had that last mead.

“I said I accept your offer.” Her gaze was cool, steady, and surprisingly cynical.

What offer?
Nathan wondered in mild panic.
When did I make an offer?

“Now what, genius?”
Sebastian commed, his mental voice dripping sarcasm.

Inspired, Nathan added, “You'll also be required to service my executive officer.” That should make her think twice.

Her gaze slid to Sebastian. Nervousness flickered across her expressive face, but her voice was brisk when she replied, “That won't be a problem. Not if you get me off this planet. How long would you expect me to . . . ah . . .”

Nathan's lips twisted. “Serve under us?”

She didn't flinch. “Yes.”

He pulled a number out of the air. “Six months.”

The colonist considered the figure, then nodded. “That's acceptable.”

Oh, God. It was?

S
HE hadn't even blinked.

It was tough to believe a virgin would be willing to take on both of them, but she had, and she hadn't blinked.

So did that mean she wasn't a virgin? Nathan wondered, suddenly intrigued. If not, he could satisfy his randy hunger with a clear conscience. Then he'd send her home where nobody would shoot her.

Trinity stared back at him, a stubborn angle to her pointed chin. There was no pleading in her gaze, but there was definitely a trace of desperation.

Could she be telling the truth? Would the cult's elders force her into an abusive marriage? Or was she simply playing a role, trying to free herself from the stultifying religious strictures of her culture?

If the situation she described was real, he had no problem giving her transport off-world. It wasn't necessary for her to actually join the crew, after all. He could help her land a berth on a vessel captained by one of the merchants he knew. Plenty of them owed him favors, and it would be a safer life for her than a merc's.

But he refused to be the victim of a scam. Was she lying?

There was one way to find out—one very delicious way he'd no doubt thoroughly enjoy. Nathan felt his cock harden.

“Before we make any agreements, I want a test-drive,” he drawled, giving her his best menacing smile. If she were lying, she'd back down when they started playing hardball. “Let's see you take on the two of us first.”

She only shrugged. “I have no objection to that.”

His cock grew even harder at her assent. He reminded it she'd probably back out.

“Then if you'll accompany us to the ship . . .” Testing her resolve, Nathan rose from his chair; that alone had been known to make some challengers back off. Not Red, though her green eyes widened. He started toward the door, placing his feet more carefully than he ordinarily did.

“Nate, what the fuck do you think you're doing?”
Sebastian commed as he and the colonist followed.

“I'm drunk, I've got a hard-on, and I want to see what she's made of,”
Nathan replied.
“And you're going to help.”

“You don't really mean to make this fluffy little virgin one of the crew?”
Sebastian sounded scandalized.

Sebastian eyed him.
“Sure it's not just the fit of her tight little cunt you want to investigate?”

Nathan gestured at her to proceed them. As she strode out the door, he grinned wolfishly, watching the feminine sway of her lovely backside.
“Well, that, too. Assuming she doesn't run for home before I get around to it.”

The three of them stepped from the bar's dim confines into the bright, hard glare of the afternoon. Nathan's head instantly produced a protesting throb. He ignored it, intent on getting Red back to the ship and into his bed. She probably wouldn't stay there, but he suspected she'd be thoroughly entertaining while she was.

In the meantime, he ordered his computer implants to sober him up for the flight. Almost instantly, the throbbing in his temples faded as his thoughts slid into focus.

He shot another glance at Trinity's butt. Damn, it was as luscious as he'd thought. He'd hoped alcohol had made her more appealing than she really was. As it was, satisfying his aching hard-on was going to take a while.

Which reminded him.
“Lieutenant Vika?”

Cassidy Vika's voice responded in his mind.
“Yes, Captain?”
Vika was one of the
Starrunner
's fighter pilots, but she also did double duty as a security officer. Tough, capable, and skilled, she always rose to any challenge he cared to throw at her.

“The supplier is supposed to deliver that shipment of food at 1500. Meet the driver at the port and accept it, then give me a call.
”

“ 'Fraid so, sir. She seemed genuinely in need of a ride off-world. And based on what I've seen this morning, I wouldn't want to live here, either.”
She paused.
“Did I screw up?”

“Don't worry about it, Vika. I plan to investigate the situation.”
His gaze tracked to Trinity's back.
“Thoroughly.”