FreedomofThree (9 page)

Chapter Twenty

Setting Sail

Brandana joined Hans in the cock pit. He was busy running diagnostics and keeping a check that they were not about to be boarded by any unwanted Ratt Pirates. He looked at her bandaged wrist and winced.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Getting better. Anything on the radar?”

“No,” Hans said. “Looks like we’re safe. That was some explosion.”

“Yeah, I added some extra explosives without telling you. Sorry.”

Hans grinned widely. “My little sister.”

“Look at the stars,” Brandana mused, her gaze wandering far from the ship and out into the deep navy blackness, an expanse peppered now and again with golden stretches of dust or small, fiery detonations.

“Oh no,” Hans shook his head. “You’re in love, aren’t you?”

“Me?”

“Listen to yourself, all dreamy and pathetic. Who is it? Anyone I know?”

“Don’t tease but it’s that bipene. Devon.”

“The pretty boy?”

Brandana smiled, “He is, isn’t he?”

“You’d eat him alive, Brandy. Come on! Surely you can’t be serious?”

“I know, it’s ridiculous, Hans, but I can’t get him out of my head. I’m thinking about him all the time. I really miss him.”

“This is going to cause me problems, I can feel it.”

“Hans, can we go back to Kirslar?” she asked in her most persuasive tone.

“To fetch the bipene?”

“Yes,” she batted her eyelashes. “I think I might be in love with him. Unless I see him again, I won’t ever know. I have to find out.”

“What about the rebellion, Brandy? You’re a major player. Don’t you want to make a difference?”

“What have I just done? Of course I want to make a difference, Hans, and it’s not fair of you to blackmail me like that. What makes you think I’m going to stop just because I’m in love? I can multi-task, you know.”

Hans knew his sister well. “You won’t let it lie until we go, will you?”

“No, and if you don’t go with me, I’ll go alone.”

“Shit, Brandy. Alright! Women,” Hans muttered under his breath, resetting his course. “I’ll get in touch with Thorn.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Destiny

As Hans expertly slid his cruiser into the massive parking area of Botanica, he noticed a fine looking ship parked there and imagined it must belong to a film star. He had never seen a golden ship before, let alone one with a jaguar’s head on it. He parked his own rough and ready ship a little way away, feeling the contrast bite.

“You wait here,” Brandana told him. “I’ll be back soon.”

“I thought I’d stretch my legs, have a look round.”

“Not yet, Hans. I know you. Once you get into the resort, you’ll disappear and I might need you. There are too many pretty women and crazy things to do here. Just you wait for a while, please, this is important to me.”

“Alright!” Hans felt more and more frustrated; he needed some time to cut loose.”Don’t be long. And good luck!”

Almost as soon as Brandana stepped through the sliding glass doors of the grand entrance and under the virtual waterfall, she sensed that something was wrong. Other holidaymakers were not smiling or moving and there was a spiky tension in the air. She stopped in her tracks and looked around, trying to figure out exactly what was happening.

The only movement came from a drunken Ratt Pirate soldier who was causing trouble whilst on his general rounds. He staggered around with his pistol dangerously unsheathed. His aura emitted extreme aggression, tempered by the alcohol which had made him silly. Then, in the corner of her eye, Brandana noticed a tall, graceful, stunningly beautiful woman dressed in tight blue jeans, small high heeled boots, a black cashmere sweater adorned by several stunning pieces of diamond jewellery. She was moving like a tigress stalking prey in the savannah; slowly, almost imperceptibly apart from another hunter.

Their eyes met. In that split second, they made a silent agreement to attack the Ratt Pirate together somehow.

“You!” the Ratt Pirates spat at Brandana, “Keep still! I’m still waiting for my drink.”

“Alright,” Brandana said soothingly. “Don’t I know you?”

“What?” he reeled at her with his pistol dancing dangerously in all directions.

“Haven’t I seen you in a film or something?” she teased flirtatiously.

“No!” he growled.

Brandana continued to flirt with him shamelessly, her eyelids batting, lips smiling, showing him that he could if he wanted to. “Are you sure? You look really familiar.”

He approached her, his demeanour shifting from aggressive to aroused. “Perhaps you could join me for a drink? I’m famous for one thing among friends,” he hiccupped, breathing sourly upon her. “I’ve got an enormous…”

He slipped to the floor with a thud. While Brandana kept him occupied, Raniko had sneaked up silently behind and hit him with a heavy brass candlestick from the desk.

“Pleased to meet you,” Raniko offered Brandana her slim hand with a diamond ring in the shape of a jaguar. “My name’s Raniko.”

“Good to meet you, too,” Brandana shook her hand firmly. “I’m Brandana. I like your moves.”

Raniko twitched her eyebrows proudly. “Back at you,” she stepped out of the small pool of Ratt Pirate blood which was forming around her feet.

“Listen, I’m here on business but perhaps we could meet up for lunch before I leave?” Brandana asked with a view to persuading Raniko into a role within the rebellion. She was sure that Devon would not mind waiting. What Brandana did not know was that Raniko was thinking the exact same thing, the bounty hunter having traced the cosmic wraith’s information to Botanica.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Getting To Know You

When Brandana and Raniko met in the hotel reception at lunchtime, both were looking a little disappointed. Neither of them had been able to locate Devon whose contract had been terminated and he had, of course, left no forwarding address. Both of the women were eager to try and find him, although for totally different reasons. Both also believed that Devon would not be far away and might even possibly come back to the hotel since there was some outstanding salary to be settled. A leisurely lunch was what both of them needed since they had been travelling for some time and were both more than a little weary.

They met in the foyer and adjourned to the restaurant which was themed on the tropical surroundings. Tables, chairs and other furnishings were fashioned from pieces of driftwood, either bolted together or tied with thick rope. Tablecloths of spotless white linen draped down towards a bleached wooden floor. Cutlery was wound round with thin rope on the handles and the menus were printed on pressed, bleached seaweed paper.

Both women had been back to their ships to change and Brandana had given Hans leave to explore the resort for an hour or two. Although neither of them fully recognised it yet, their meeting had created a powerful spark. Confused as yet with the thrill of taking down the Ratt Pirate, something romantic had begun to blossom and both wanted to look their best.

Raniko wore a cream silk trouser suit which clung to her firm thighs and flared out elegantly towards her gold, designer shoes, the material billowing like the sea as she moved. Her blouse was cut low to the belly button, secured with tape around her curvaceous chest, into which spilled a long necklace of two golden strands fastened together with a good sized square diamond. Her hair was wild and flowing, showing her lustrous thick tresses to the full. Brandana wore a red halter dress in a soft, dreamy, jersey fabric that appeared to be melted onto her skin. Her hair was tied back loosely, framing her pretty face.

Ordering a seafood platter to share, swimming in creamy tarragon sauce, they served themselves in the giant oyster shell bowls.

“Your rebellion sounds interesting,” Raniko said. “Unfortunately I can’t help you.”

“Why?” Brandana flinched. “I know you don’t support the pirates.”

“No,” Raniko laughed, “nothing of the sort. I’m a bounty hunter. I do what I like and I certainly don’t trust pirates.”

Brandana nodded. “A bounty hunter? You don’t look like one, although you do act like one. My brother, he looks like a bounty hunter, all scruffy and ratty. So what brings you to Botanica?”

“Just business, nothing important,” Raniko lied.

“Not for a bounty?”

“Something like that.”

“Of course, you can’t talk about it, I understand.”

“What about you, Brandana? What brings you here?”

She sighed. “A man, I’m afraid.”

“I see.” Raniko arched her brows. “Have you come far for him?”

“I suppose so. We have a bit of history together.”

“Dangerous.” Raniko wrapped her tongue around a curled, pink tentacle of squid.

“Isn’t that what women like us want?” Brandana asked, her question surprising them both.

“Danger?” Raniko repeated. “Amongst other things. Good food and diamonds rank pretty high, too. Is he handsome?”

“Yes,” Brandana lost herself in her thoughts. “It might sound ridiculous but I can’t get him out of my mind. I’ve never felt anything like it before. If I’m honest, I don’t know if I like it. I don’t feel in control of it.”

“Must be love.” Raniko scowled.

Breaking up their good natured banter was an old local woman dressed in lace skirt and shawls who often came to the hotel selling roses to romantic couples. Seeing the two women deep in conversation, supping oysters and juicy prawns, she had something she wished to tell them.

“Your fortunes?” she asked in a creaky voice.

“How much?” Brandana replied although she would have paid any fee being eager to support local businesses and to find Devon.

“Two coins each.”

Brandana paid for them both.

Raniko was not quite so convinced. “You don’t believe in this nonsense, Brandana, surely?”

“Maybe. I’m always willing to listen. Go on, mother.”

“I felt it when I walked past you both, right over there.”

“What did you feel?” Brandana asked.

“Heat!” she spoke excitedly. “Such tremendous heat.”

Wide eyed, Brandana asked, “Is there going to be a fire?”

“Yes, a fire.” The woman swayed slightly, rolling her eyes. “Passion, I see that clearly.”

“Your man.” Raniko nodded, sceptical.

“No, I don’t see a man, only in the distance. I see colours whirling. Travel. Much happiness.”

“Alright, thank you,” Raniko dismissed her. “Travel, eh? Fancy that? At a travel resort. Hmm, what a talent she has.”

“Perhaps she meant it on a different level?”

Brandana reached for her glass of punch, a light and fragrant brew made from the nectar of a local species of jasmine, and knocked it over accidentally, shooting the sticky, yellow liquid onto Raniko’s once- pristine suit, her weakened wrist having given way.

“I’m so sorry!” Brandana yelled. “Waitress!”

A smartly dressed waitress came over to them with a tea towel.

“This is silk. I need to rinse it straight away. Where can I take it off?”

“I don’t know,” the waitress stammered. “The laundry room’s over there. Guests aren’t meant to go in there, though.”

“Unless you want me stripped naked in the middle of the restaurant, honey, you’d better show me the way,” Raniko demanded.

“This way,” the nervous waitress hesitatingly agreed.

Leaving them in the laundry room, the waitress returned to her duties and would profess ignorance if questioned on the topic. Everything necessary was in the steamy hot, white room; washers, dryers, ironing boards and bright boxes of soap powder.

“I’ll leave you be,” Brandana apologised. “So sorry about the mess. My wrist is hurt from my last excursion, it made me drop the glass. Let me give you my contact details. I’ll refund the cost if it doesn’t come out.”

“I don’t think it will,” Raniko said. “It’s dry clean only. Nevertheless, it’s worth a go.”

Raniko put her thumbs against her waist and hitched down her silk trousers which were sticking to her inner thigh.

Brandana did not quite know where to look; both embarrassed to watch this stranger strip and because she had caused the mess. Although she tried not to stare, something intrigued her about the exquisite tone of Raniko’s skin, the clarity of the honeyed colour, her taut slender thighs. In the wet heat of the laundry room, amidst the loud white noise of the rumbling, steaming machines, Brandana felt other worldly, like she was lost in a parallel universe. As if in slow motion, Raniko shook back her thick mane of natural waves. She stood quite confidently in her black lace thong, heart shaped with an outline of tiny, soft feathers.

“Where’s the sink?” Raniko asked, her stained trousers in her hand.

“Over there. Let me,” Brandana offered.

Brandana went to assist and the two of them leant over the sink, their hands in the running, hot water. Brandana poured on some washing liquid which released fresh bursts of tropical scents, foaming instantly, creating lush bubbles which began to gather over their wrists as they both rubbed at the trousers, their arms and hands occasionally knocking together.

Raniko wrung them out and together they worked out how to use one of the industrial size dryers. The poor trousers began to whirl around and around, alone in the huge mouth of the machine. Raniko began to laugh.

“I can’t believe I’m standing here like this. Look at me!”

Brandana did look. Lovingly. Raniko in her half- dressed state looked incredibly sexy, better than when draped in her designer couture.

Raniko was half-dressed, in a strange place, with a beautiful stranger whose nipples had begun to stick through the skimpy fabric of her expensive dress. The laundry room was warm so it was not the cold. Brandana was aroused, Raniko could tell, so took the opportunity to kiss her.

Brandana had never kissed a woman before, although Raniko had a couple of lesbian affairs in her modelling days. Such a soft sensation, Raniko’s plump lips upon hers, tenderly moving and pulling her into her warm sweetness. Both of them were constantly aware that they were in a public place and could be disturbed at any time. Even so, this made them kiss with more fervour. Both began to feel that hot throb down below, the warm circle of arousal which longed to be caressed.

Their kissing became stronger, their bodies pressed against one another, writhing, pushing, eager. Raniko kissed Brandana’s neck lovingly and released the bow of her halter. The red dress slipped to the floor, eased down by Raniko’s soft hand. Brandana felt her skin enveloped by the hot steam of the laundry. She never wore knickers with that dress and was now completely naked, occasionally glancing around the lines of airing clothes which were her only modesty to check that they were not being watched.

Kissing again, Raniko opened Brandana with her fingers and tenderly sought out her clitoris which she softly rubbed with a perfect rhythm that only a woman, or a trained bipene, would know.

Brandana knew there was no turning back now. She didn’t want there to be any reason to go back. She hardly cared any longer if they were caught. It was worth it.

She carefully lifted Raniko’s top, softly peeling it from her.

Raniko took it from her and threw it to the floor, a sign that she no longer cared about the state of her clothing. She was forgiven.

In a tight embrace, their breasts spread against one another, warm and silken soft. Brandana licked Raniko’s round, brown nipple with a smile and fell to her knees to take her first taste of a woman. Through her soft downy covering, peeling back the lips slowly, she protruded her wet tongue and sought out the small round clitoris which had begun to engorge. Brandana had often fantasised about this moment and tried to imagine how she liked her own clitoral stimulation; a little more than soft, very rhythmic and persistent.

A waiter walked into the laundry room with a pen between his lips and the girls froze, Brandana still on her knees buried deep between Raniko’s thighs as Raniko covered her breasts with her arms. He was so busy, however, that he simply collected a pile of napkins and left without noticing them. With their pulses racing even faster, they continued their escapade.

Raniko urged Brandana to sit upon the washing machine that appeared to be approaching final spin, its drum wrathfully spinning, the whole white box shaking as though full of angry bees.

As Brandana hitched herself up, Raniko took her own tongue to her, keeping eye contact, lapping away just enough to tease. Brandana itched for more and Raniko sensed this, mounting her after kissing her body all the way up. She locked lips with her once more and ran her elegant hands through Brandana’s hair, taking out the fastener and shaking the white tresses free and wild. Brandana reached around and squeezed Raniko’s buttocks, each of them desperately using the other to build their passion, sighing and breathing warmly into one another’s neck and hair until they came.