Pirate: Space Gypsy Chronicles, #1 (12 page)

T
he excitement
of the wormhole faded quickly, especially since it involved a whole bunch of number checking to see where the hell they ended up.

Emma leaned over Rafe’s shoulder as he perused screens scrolling lines of gibberish. “Why is it taking so long? I thought wormholes got us from point A to point B quicker?”

“They do.”

“And don’t you control where you come out?”

“Usually, we would enter at a moderate speed, at a specific angle to ensure we’d exit at the correct spot, spots mapped out over eons by the travelers who’ve gone before us. But given someone was behaving recklessly”—Rafe patted the armrest—“we emerged slightly off course. We should know momentarily our location. We’ve just about matched up the star points.”

The remark surprised her. “You’re relying on constellations? Doesn’t your superior alien collective believe in sign posts?”

His teeth flashed white as he grinned. “Of course we do, but the universe is a rough place. Signposts get misplaced. Especially in remote areas.” And pirates sometimes changed them to fool unsuspecting targets into flying into a trap.

“So we’re lost.”

“Nope, I know exactly where we are, and better news, there is civilization.”

“How civilized?”

He shrugged. “Depends on your definition. It’s a place where we can go in order to refuel and refresh our supplies.”

“A space mall?”

“The proper term is a way station, and if it hasn’t moved or been destroyed, then it’s only a few hours from here.”

“A few hours?” Just enough time for a nap to rid herself of gritty eyes and a wipe down of her parts. “Wake me when we’re close.”

He chose to wake her with a grope under her blanket.

She grabbed his hand, the fingers latched around the edge of her panties. “What are you doing?”

“I think you forgot to give me these.”

More like she thought he was joking and didn’t want them after all. “I’m still wearing them.”

“You won’t be for long once you let go of my hand.”

She peered at his face and noted the playful grin, the twinkle in his eyes. “And here I thought you’d given up on seducing me.”

“Never.” He leaned close. “You’re an interesting enigma, wench.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m an enigma. I think you’re just not used to girls with morals.”

“Actually, I am. In my culture, the women are chaste. Sex is only allowed after the joining ceremony.”

“So the girls have to be virgins to get married? What about the guys?”

A wicked smile tilted his lips. “We practice fornicating every chance we get.”

“Seems kind of unfair.”

“I told you before. Space is full of chauvinism.”

A bell chimed before Annabelle announced, “Approaching the way station known as…” The gibberish made no sense to Emma.

She wrinkled her nose. “What did she just say?”

“There isn’t a polite translation.”

“Since when are you worried about being polite?”

“Good point. Very well, prepare yourself, wench, as, in moments, we shall dock with the Giant Three-Headed Cock.”

“Seriously? Does that even exist?”

“Yes. It’s a species trait of the Dka. But I don’t recommend sleeping with one. Their ejaculate is acidic to humans.”

Good to know.

He tugged again at her underpants, and she frowned. “Don’t you have anything better to do than sexually harass me, like, say, fly the ship?”

“And insult Annabelle? Perish the thought. Are you welching on our deal?”

“It’s not a deal. You said you wanted them, but I don’t recall agreeing.”

“Still playing hard to get.” He stood with a shake of his head. “Don’t play too hard, or at one point, I might just stop trying.”

And that would be a shame. Emma wouldn’t deny she enjoyed the way Rafe made her feel. Just another reason why she avoided the final step. The fear of change made her hesitate. She would hate for what they had to devolve into something ugly if things went south. Not to mention, where could she go? She was adrift in space without a clue or a home.
I have nothing.

Without Rafe, how would she survive?

During her mental debate, he rummaged through his items, changing his clothes for a fresher set, not even thinking twice about stripping in front of her. She didn’t bother looking away. If he was determined to put on a show, then the least she could do was appreciate it.

Sigh.

If only she could see the future and know how things would turn out.

Dark eyes regarded her without recognition. The edge of the knife pressed against her skin, pinching it.

The vision she’d seen in the wormhole—a vision she’d not shared with Rafe—came back to taunt her, feeding her already present fear. Was that why she’d seen it? Did the void feed on her subconscious trepidation?

As Rafe left, Emma hurriedly dressed, running a cleansing cloth over her skin then finger combing her hair before tying it back with a strip of cloth. She could do nothing else to make herself presentable. While Rafe carried a myriad of supplies from Earth, fashionable accessories and clothing weren’t included. She peered down at her boring and shapeless jumpsuit. Not pretty, but all she had. Perhaps she could demand he give her some money so she could do some shopping. After all, as his employee, he owed her some kind of wage.

She joined him on the bridge, her gaze caught by the odd object centered within the screen.

“What the hell is that?” she asked, leaning close to the viewing screen, treating it as if it truly were a window to the outside. Having gotten used to the mind-numbing boredom of space, where the most exciting thing was the occasional glimpse of a planet, it thrilled her to spot the twinkling lights of something shaped like a “Caterpillar?” The word slipped past her lips. She tilted her head, and yet the concept remained.

“What are you talking about?” he muttered. “There are no bugs on my ship.”

“I was talking about the shape of that thing over there. It’s got like a long body and a bunch of legs sticking out of it.” Legs of different length, and some of them sporting blobs.

“Those legs, as you called them, are actually docking arms.” The screen zoomed in, clarifying the image. “As ships arrive, depending on the size, the arm will extend. We’ll lock onto it and use it to enter the space station.”

“Will there be people there?”

“Perhaps, but most likely the lifeforms on the way station will not be anything like you could imagine.”

“Real aliens? Awesome.” She couldn’t resist pressing her nose against the glass, peering with a childish wonder at her first true taste of alien culture. And hopefully better cuisine. Freeze-dried mush had gotten old a few weeks ago.

“Yes, aliens, although you might not want to call them that to their visage.”

“Oh, I won’t say anything rude. I just can’t wait to meet some.”

“You won’t have to worry about offending them as you’ll be staying on the ship.”

That’s what he thinks! I am going whether he likes it or not.

I
gnoring
the excitement shining on Emma’s face was easy. Rafe just had to remind himself she didn’t put out.
Nope, she’d rather let a man suffer intense blue balls.
A pain he was forced to relieve by hand. His poor abused hand.

And it was all her fault. It was enough to make him grumpy and manage to fight off her cuteness.

He also fought off her many requests to join him on the space station. “You are staying on board,” he repeated as she bombarded him with why’s. To those who thought the tactic childish, he would agree, with the addendum that it was also vastly annoying.

“Why? Why? Why? Why?”

At one point, even the most patient person—which he was not—would snap and say, “Because I said so!”

The fact that he channeled just about every adult he knew growing up irritated him to no end. He liked to think himself above a petty thing like acting mature.

“I don’t see why you’re the only one who gets a say.” The pout evident in her lower jutting lip. A lip he could have chewed on.

“Because I’m the captain, and I give the orders.” Ha. Argue that.

Emma did. “Annabelle, don’t the galactic charters for all merchant vessels state that crew members are allowed at least six para units of shore leave should the ship make an unauthorized stop?”

His treacherous AI sided with Emma. “That is correct. He also owes you a quarter of your current earnings payable either in credits to your account or by allowing you to charge expenses to the ship’s account.”

Emma crossed her arms and arched a brow. “See. You have to let me go. It’s in my job description.”

“That applies to employees of Serenity Trading, the fellows I stole this ship from. You seem to forget, wench, I’m a pirate. I abide by pirate mandates, which means this is not a democracy and I make the rules. First rule. No getting off the ship.” The mighty glare he tossed her way did not remove the mulish expression from her face.

“I am not staying on the ship, and I don’t give a rat’s ass what you say. I want to see the space station and aliens. If I have to be stuck out here with you, then the least you can do is allow me to expand my horizons and enjoy the perks of being a galactic traveler.”

“You’ll enjoy it better if you are alive,” he stated. Despite all her protests, his gut told him to keep her safe, and safe was out of sight.

The space stations could be harsh places, and with good reason. Many of them were stuck in the middle of nowhere with very little to entertain the visitors and inhabitants. The very remote ones also struggled to maintain a level of supplies to sustain them. In lean times, many an eye glinting with avarice would watch for an easy mark. Something with resale value.

At superficial glance, his ship seemed as if it wouldn’t fetch a great price, not with its age and lack of amenities. The
Annabelle
wasn’t pretty or luxurious. It required great amounts of maintenance, or at least so Rafe made them think.

He made a point to rip out parts and drop into every station he could find, lamenting about his hunk of junk and the fact that he kept missing great pirating opportunities. He put on a good show, which wouldn’t stand up under scrutiny. He now had too many heists attributed to him to keep flying low.

What this meant was, while most might show no interest in his ship, they would wonder at his cargo. If certain lazy thieves got the idea they could get their hands/paws/tentacles on it, he could end up with a bit of a dilemma. He truly hated having to kill people on space stations. Their family and friends usually tended to take a bit of offense, which led to more blood and death. A vicious circle all around that led to him being banned from a few places, although it did add to his dashing repertoire.

“You keep saying it’s not safe. Not safe from what? I thought you said there was some kind of galactic council or group that made up some rules for you to follow.”

“Yes, we have a galactic council. I never said it was effective, though. In order for it to work, people actually have to obey the laws. And, while some people do, most species and even stations like this one tend to forge their own laws.”

“And they allow it?”

He shrugged. “The po’li’za, the council’s version of enforcement, have enough to handle without chasing down every single tiny infraction. They save themselves for the big-ticket items, the ones garnering the most attention. They also like to bother those with the most credits.”

“Bribery?”

“Out here, it’s the way of life.”

“So I’m beginning to understand. Given what I’ve gleaned, I’m going to guess you’re one of those rule breakers. I’ve noticed you kind of have a tendency to do whatever you want.”

“If I did whatever I wanted then you’d know it,” he stated. Oh yes, she would know it because his fist would be in her hair, her head would be tilted back, and he’d be devouring her mouth while plunging his dick between those sweet thighs.

His shaft hardened at the very thought of it, but he didn’t like to let her know she affected him. Never. He would never give her that kind of power over him. It wasn’t done. A man should always be in charge.

A man should never admit weakness.

A man should never lose control. Taking control, on the other hand, that was a whole different story.

“Hello?” She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. “Anybody in there?”

“Must you constantly question me? I’m getting mighty tired of it.” Actually, he wasn’t. Her presence on board provided a bright diversion to the usual boredom of space travel. Of course, he’d enjoy her presence even more if she spent it naked on his cock. Just like he’d enjoy her open mouth a lot better if it was full—of his cock.

He sat back as his inciting words had the desired effect. Emma got angry. Very cute. Not that he’d tell her.

“You’re tired of it?” She cocked an eyebrow, angled a hip, and gave him
the look
. It was a universal look. He should know. He’d seen it often enough on his mother’s face growing up, as well as on his sisters’ and his aunts’. Pretty much every woman at some point in his life gave him that look. Thing was he’d never had an urge to kiss it before.

It occurred to him for a moment to try plastering his mouth to hers and stealing an embrace, but given he would look rather odd without lips if she bit them off, he refrained.

“Listen,” he said. “I’m not trying to keep you on this ship because this conversation is fun for me. Believe me when I say arguing with you is not fun.” Total lie. “If I had my way, I’d go back in time so I could put you back on your planet and leave you there.” Another lie. “But I was an idiot, probably because there was no blood left in my brain, which I might add, I blame on you.”

“Me!”

“Yes, you. It’s your fault I was thinking with my dick instead of my head. And now, because of you, we are stuck together. But if it’s any consolation, you’re turning out to be a fun distraction and decent travel companion—even if you don’t put out.”

“Gee, I feel so special right now,” she said.

“You should feel special because I don’t tell too many people that.” As a matter of fact, it was probably the first time he’d ever told a woman that he kind of liked her. The emasculating realization had him adjusting his cock. Still there. What a relief. “Anyways, the reason I’m telling you this is because I don’t want to see you dead, which, in turn, is why I am advising you stay on the ship. Now, obviously, short of tying you down”—which might be kind of fun—“I’m aware I can’t force you to stay on this ship. So I’m asking you.” And, yes, he batted his lashes at her and gave her his most winsome smile in an effort to sway her to his line of thinking.

“Asking me?” she queried. Her voice held a little bit of incredulity. Okay, make that a lot. “You are so full of bullshit your eyes are brown. You are not asking me because, let’s face it, if I were to try and walk off the ship right now, you would do everything in your power to stop me.”

He growled. “Of course I would do everything in my power to stop you. After all, I didn’t go through all the trouble of saving you and feeding you and letting you drive me insane to have you die on me now.” Not before he’d at least gotten some kind of reward for his patience and care.

“Be still my racing heart,” she stated, clasping her hands to her breast. “You say the sweetest things. But I don’t know if I believe you. How do I know keeping me hidden on this ship isn’t your way of keeping me away from people, people who I can ask to help me get back home?”

“You won’t find anyone willing to take you back. Nor will anyone show you the same patience I have. You should thank me for being so nice considering you’ve been nothing but a pain in my dick.”

“What do you mean a pain? I haven’t touched your you-know-what.”

“And that is exactly my point,” he stated as he paced in front of her, hands on his hips, looking every inch the haughty pirate she accused him of being. “Here I am hornier than a sac-dragging Wulla’m from the planet Wu, and this despite the fact I have a lady on board with all the right parts. We are perfectly sexually compatible, and yet you refuse to do anything about this.” Both his hands arrowed over his groin area, and it was all he could do not to laugh at the look on her face as he pointed to it.

“You did not seriously just say that. I mean, I’ve heard of guys acting like pigs, but that is truly unbelievable, even for you.”

“It’s called honesty, wench. Isn’t that what all you women want? Here I am giving you honesty, telling you that you’re making my balls fucking blue, and you’re complaining. The one who should be complaining is me. Do you have any idea how sore my hand is from whacking off?” He thrust the injured limb at her.

She looked at him, really looked at him this time, and it was all he could do not to burst out laughing. Yes, he was laying it on thick, but the entertainment value was not to be passed up.

Thing was she never reacted how he expected. He didn’t trust the sudden smile on her face, as it held a hint of mischief.

“Poor wittle baby with a sore hand. Cry me a river.” She did an odd motion with her hands, with one seesawing over the other.

“What are you doing?”

“Playing you the galaxy’s smallest violin.”

“I am not too sore to give your ass the spanking it deserves if you don’t start showing me some respect.”

“Then don’t whine. It’s not attractive.”

He wasn’t whining. He was complaining, in a very manly fashion. To prove that point, he scratched himself. “We seem to have gotten off topic. Despite all this talk, I haven’t changed my mind. I am not taking you onto that space station, and that is final.”