Raines, Elizabeth - Wanted [Wicked Missions 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (2 page)

Chapter 2

Callie woke with a start, sitting up in a soft bed. A very large bunk, she realized, in a small bedroom. No windows, only steel walls. Then the memories came tumbling back. She was alone on the inside of their space ship—the
Ecstasy
. There was no sign of Spencer or Hammond. Damn, she was trapped with two smugglers, and she didn’t even know their last names.

Cautiously rolling her shoulder, she felt only a gnawing ache rather than the intense pain that had thrown her into a faint. Seemed the shot had hit her upper arm more than her shoulder. Glancing at the wound, she gasped—not from the ugly welt and bruised skin but from the fact her breasts were bare. She lifted the sheet and sighed in relief that they’d left her shorts on, which she hoped meant they hadn’t taken advantage of her while she’d been out.
Fucking pirates just had to take a peek
.

A hasty glance around the room helped her find her tank top resting on top of a silver med-kit. Callie threw her legs over the side of the bunk and jumped to her feet. Too quickly, because her legs began to tremble. She grabbed the side of the bed and tried to keep herself upright.

The door slid open with a loud whoosh. “Hey! Hey! Who told you that you could get up?” Spencer hurried to her, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and holding her close to his side.

If she’d had the strength, she would have pushed him away. “I wanted my shirt.”

“Then you should have asked.” He helped her back on the bed.

She immediately seized the sheet and held it to her naked breasts. “You weren’t here.” He shot her a frown, making her roll her eyes in aggravation. “Fine. I’m asking now. May I have my shirt? You had no right to strip me, you know.”

With a chuckle, he fetched her shirt and held it out to her. She kept the sheet pressed to her bosom and took the tank top from his grasp. “Turn your back,” she ordered.

“I’ve already seen your tits. Damn fine tits, by the way.”

“Turn around!”

Spencer actually obeyed, although he laughed again. “I had to take the shirt off to check your wound,” he said, sounding defensive, which made her happy. “I took care of you after you got shot while Hammond got us outta there. Not my fault your bra was in the way.”

After she checked to see if her shirt was intact, she breathed a sigh of relief. The shot had missed the material. She jerked her shirt over her head, gingerly easing her sore arm through the proper hole, and then tugged the garment down. “I suppose you think I should thank you for your help. You can turn around now.”

His handsome smile made her breath catch in her throat. His eyes were the most wonderful shade of blue, reminding her of the clear water on Remiza. The long, brown hair suited his oval face, and she liked that he left it loose to almost touch his shoulders instead of pulling the thick tresses into some kind of masculine ponytail. “You were really lucky,” he said. “The blast went straight through. No broken bones and only minor tissue damage. You’ll be good as new in a day or two.”

She just grunted in response.

“You’re quite welcome, baby.”

“I told you before, don’t call me
baby
,” Callie countered. “Where are we? Still on Bromond?”

He shook his head. “We took off right away before Carlos could gather reinforcements. We’re heading back to Rozale.”

Rozale
. That was days away. Although she knew she should be grateful to the men for saving her life, she couldn’t bring herself to thank Spencer. A weight settled on her heart as she thought of all the innocent lives that would be lost because of the way she’d botched her mission. She had to fix this.
Somehow
. “I have to go back to Bromond.”

Fisting his hands against his hips, Spencer frowned down at her. “No way in hell we’re letting you go back there. Not when Carlos Pontierri wants you dead.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!”

With another loud swish of the door, Hammond walked into the bedroom. His chuckle told her he’d heard her angry declaration. “Unless you want to jump off this ship, we do. I suppose you can consider yourself our hostage for now.”

Hostage?
She snorted a laugh at the notion of anyone paying money for her safe return.
Mikel?
He probably wouldn’t part with a single universal-credit to save her ass. The only person in the whole cosmos who truly loved her was her sister. And the siblings lived such separate lives, Callie hadn’t heard from Lyrianna in literally months, although that wasn’t unusual. Like Callie, Lyrianna had a tendency to hang around some shady characters. Both sisters were able to help others with the information they gleaned from their contacts. Maybe once the epidemic ended on Bromond, she’d go looking for her sister.

“What’s so funny?” Spencer asked, cocking his head.

She refused to reply. “I
really
need to go back to Bromond. Now.” Just to prove to them she could be reasonable, she added, “Please.”

“Not happening,” he replied. “You might as well resign yourself to our company for a few days. When we get to Rozale, we’ll figure out what to do with you.”

A few days alone on a small ship with two handsome men? Most women would think they’d hit the interstellar lottery. Not Callie. All she could do was worry about the sick girls back on Bromond who were waiting for medicine that would never arrive. A tear slipped down her cheek.

Hammond reached out and captured it with his thumb. “What’s wrong now?”

All she did was shake her head and try to turn away.

Spencer sat down next to her. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Callie hit the pillow with her fist. “I’m not your baby! Stop calling me that!”

“Then you better give me an alternative,” he replied, clearly unaffected by her temper. An odd reaction, considering Mikel always left the room whenever she vented her irritation, which was probably far too often. Lyrianna always said that Callie needed to learn patience and control.

So they wanted to know her name. She thought about lying to them. If she made up some name, they would never know who she truly was. She could invent some story about her life as well, leading both smugglers on a merry chase.

But what would that accomplish? These men were drug dealers. They could rape her, even kill her, and probably never feel a moment of remorse. What good would lying do? She’d only be making her life more difficult as she tried to keep her lies straight. “My name’s Callinda Seebré.”

“Callinda,” Hammond echoed. “Do people call you that, or do you have a nickname?”

“Linda, maybe?” Spencer asked. “Or Lin?”

“Callie,” she replied.

“Callie it is,” Hammond said, plopping down on the bed at her other side. “I’m Hammond Miller.” He nodded at Spencer. “He’s Spencer Prentice. Now that we’ve been introduced, we need to come to an understanding, and the only way we can do that is to know why you ended up as our pretty little hostage. What were you doing on that docking platform?”

They were too close for her to think, and their clean, masculine scents were drowning her, sending a gush of moisture rushing from her pussy. Being Belusian, she possessed a very high sex drive. Or at least that was what she’d always been told. Having never felt an overwhelming need to seek out male company, she’d assumed she was immune to that genetic trait. The moment Hammond kissed her back on the docking platform, she realized she’d been wrong, because she’d wanted him with a fierceness that hit her like a club upside the head. She felt the same desire again as she breathed in their pleasing scents, curling her fingers into the palms of her hands to keep from reaching for the men.

Sandwiched between the two of them, all she could do was remember the warmth of Hammond’s lips, the wonderful taste of him in her mouth, and how her body responded to his nearness. She also remembered how wonderful it felt to be cradled in Spencer’s arms. Even with the pain in her shoulder, she’d recognized how strong and safe he’d made her feel. Shit, not only was she unbearably horny, she wanted
two
men.

“Callie?” Spencer placed his finger under her chin to turn her to face him. “Why did you come to that dock?”

“I needed the Ampirica you smuggled onto the planet,” she replied, trying to take hold of her scattered wits.

“Why?”

“For the children. The little girls in my hospital are dying from the plague.”

“Aren’t there other antibiotics, some that aren’t so rare?”

She shook her head. “We tried every other antibiotic. They need Ampirica.”

“How did you even know we had any?” Hammond asked, even though he was looking at Spencer. The two seemed to be close enough to communicate without words, and she envied that type of bond.

Then something very odd dawned on her. This was the only bed on a ship too small to have more than one bedroom. Did they share it?

No
. There had to be more bedrooms on the ship, no matter how small it looked. Two men who were that virile, that incredibly masculine couldn’t possibly be involved with each other, not sexually.

Right?

Callie dropped her gaze to her lap, hating that simply looking at their faces made her heart race. These two men were holding her prisoner. They were drug smugglers. Yet all she could think of was getting closer. Why couldn’t they be fat and ugly? Then her stupid desire would die a speedy death. As it was, she had pictures flying through her mind. Kissing them. Touching them. One particular image made heat shoot to her clit—Spencer sucking her tits while Hammond licked her pussy.

She was being ridiculous.

“Callie?” Hammond reached over and cupped her cheek in his palm to force her to face him. She had to resist the urge to rub her cheek against his hand like a pet seeking a sweet caress from its master. “You’re a million kilometers away.”

“I’m right here.”

“Not in your thoughts. What are you thinking?” When she didn’t reply, he frowned. “Are you worried about Carlos?”

Sweet heaven
. She’d been so busy thinking with her cunt, she’d forgotten about him. “He tried to kill me. Why? He doesn’t even know me.”

“No, but now you know him. You’re a witness. You could identify him.” He tossed a knowing glance to Spencer. “And of course you went and shot his already ugly face. I can’t imagine how hideous he’ll look without a nose. You know that you can’t go back to Bromond again. Ever. There’ll be a contract out on you, and Carlos never forgets.”