Pirate: Space Gypsy Chronicles, #1 (2 page)

M
en were pigs
. Without fail. Every single time. But that wasn’t why Emma got in her truck and pretended to leave.

As she peeked in her rearview mirror, she couldn’t help but grin as she spotted the very sexy Mr. Abaddon sprinting toward her truck. Balls naked.

Bounce. Bounce.

So entertaining.

Hot too. So hot she couldn’t blame the heat of the Nevada desert for the flush in her body. As a red-blooded woman, she could admit she found him attractive. That didn’t mean it would go anywhere—even if she did enjoy the tease.

Playing hard to get wasn’t easy with this guy, but she’d promised herself she wouldn’t fall into bed so quickly the next time she fell in lust. But damn, he made that hard, as hard as that rock-solid bod of his. Watching that man spring into motion, dick waving, muscles moving… Totally worth getting him agitated, client or not.

Emma thought she knew him well enough by now to expect he wouldn’t report her attitude, just like she wouldn’t report his behavior. They played a game of tease and deny, one she might eventually let him win. Maybe. To be honest, she was having so much fun she’d hate to ruin it with disappointing sex because a guy that pretty was probably selfish and lousy in bed.

As Mr. Abaddon drew alongside, she put the truck into park and smiled down at him. “Can I help you, sir?”

Without a hint of a smile, he held out his hand. “I’ll sign.” He scrawled something unintelligible on her tablet and handed it back.

“Thanks. Now, was that so hard?” Only as the words emerged from her mouth did she realize how he would take it.

He smiled. “So hard, wench.”

Someone crank the air conditioning, the temperature just went up about ten degrees. “Where am I unloading the stuff?”

“Around back, same place as usual. I’m gonna throw on some pants and meet you back there.”

Pants? What a shame.

Despite her claim she wanted to finish early, she didn’t immediately get to work, pretending to fiddle with her portable scanner. In reality, she checked out his taut, tanned ass as he sauntered back to his trailer. The man had incredible glutes.

Only once he disappeared from sight did she begin to unload his order.

Actually, she didn’t. The little machine on sturdy wheels she had in the truck did most of the work. The boys in the warehouse called it a self-propelled pallet truck. She called it the pretty red machine that did most of the work. It let her move with ease the packaged pallets loaded with boxes and shrink wrapped. Wheeling the shiny red truck, she steered the load to a cleared spot behind the trailer, a spot empty of the pallets she’d brought just over two weeks ago.

What does he do with the stuff?
Because his trailer certainly wasn’t big enough to stash it.
Perhaps he’s one of those survival nuts with a bomb shelter under his place.
Given his mental state, it wouldn’t surprise her.

As she lowered the second pallet, he reappeared, as threatened, wearing pants but nothing else. Not even shoes.

Was it wrong to notice the size of his feet? They matched impressively large hands. Hands big enough to…

Thump
. She lowered her load too quickly, and it hit the ground hard, sending up a puff of dust.

Waving a hand before his face to clear the air, he coughed. “Good thing my foot wasn’t in your way.”

“You have two. You can spare one.”

His laughter rang out, loud and boisterous. “You always have an answer to everything, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Except for the answer of what Mr. Abaddon did out here. Alone. On a road that technically barely existed.

As she had since she started bringing him order after order, she asked, “What are you doing with the stuff I deliver?” Because no one needed that much coconut oil for anything. And what of the saffron the previous delivery? As for the ton of jelly beans, he definitely didn’t have the body of a man who ate them.

“I told you. I am buying it for the intergalactic black market. There is a crazy demand for Earth goods. This coconut oil, for instance, is highly coveted by the Hu’lians. They like to use it in their food. Apparently it acts as some kind of sexual aphrodisiac.”

And there he went again with his wildly imaginative space stories, probably the biggest reason why she’d yet to let him get in her pants.

Cute, so very cute and sexy, yet batshit fucking crazy. “All coconut oil is good for is cooking and facials.”

“I know something that provides a better facial.”

She felt the twitch in her cheek as she forced her gaze to remain above his waistline area. It was a struggle, but she succeeded. “I’m going to drive away if you start being crude again.”

“I was merely going to suggest that if you’re looking to smooth fine lines and wrinkles that you might want to try the ghinzha oil from the Klrukian planet.” He pasted a benign smile on his face.

“And what is this oil supposedly made from?”

“Nuts. Hairy ones that their females milk when the three moons align.”

“You’re a pig.”

“No, wench, I am a randy pirate. You must be referring to the Piorcuma species. They are true swine.”

“I really think you should talk to your doctor about prescribing new meds. I don’t think the ones you’re taking are strong enough.”

He leaned against the cargo, looking utterly sane, until he opened his mouth. “I’m not crazy. Everything I’ve told you is the truth.”

“Because little green men are real and aliens are watching.”

“Watching and living among you. Sometimes closer than you think.” Wink.

What a waste of a cute guy. Ignoring him, she guided the little red truck back to her delivery van, loading and unloading it one last time. She didn’t speak to the client after dropping the last pallet. No point. She’d had her dose of crazy for the day.

Delivery done, it took only a few minutes for her to secure the pallet truck. She leaped out of the back of the truck to find Mr. Abaddon perched on the milk crates he used as a front step, looking utterly relaxed and comfortable, despite the screwy wiring inside his head.

Keeping her sights on his face meant noting his sun-streaked blond hair hung in messy hanks around his head. His jaw wore a bristle, an abrasion for a woman’s inner thigh before he went in for…

She reeled those dirty thoughts back in. “I guess I’ll see you next week or the one after,” she replied. He never went more than a few weeks between orders.

“Or, since you’re done for the day, you could stay for a bit. Maybe have a drink with me, or a
bite
.”

The boyish grin captivated her. The naked, tanned flesh of his upper body teased too, but she knew how to fight it. “Tell me again about our president.”

His eyes practically twinkled, a perfect match for his wide grin. “Your current president is an alien. Actually, it’s a she, but she’s wearing a male body at the moment so she can rule your country and eventually take over your world. But she’s only doing that in order to save you from yourselves.”

And those kind of white-padded room declarations were how she kept her panties on.

“Batshit crazy,” she muttered as she went to climb into her truck—except her truck kind of exploded and flung her to the ground.

K
aboom
!
The blast took out the top of the delivery van and knocked the woman to the ground.

“Shit.” Talk about unexpected. How the fuck had someone snuck past his warning system?

You mean the system you haven’t fixed since you spilled that beer on it a few days ago trying to fix the backup condensing unit?

So it hadn’t been at the top of his priorities. Complacency ever was his enemy. Fixing it would make the top of his list once he extricated himself from his current dilemma.

Speaking of dilemma, he could hear a low whine. A peek around the rear end of the smoking truck showed dust rising in the distance, a distance shortly closing as the riders went full throttle on their crotch rockets. It wouldn’t take them long to reach him. Of more concern was whether or not they’d stop and fire off another rocket. In either case, he should get his ass moving.

Fire on me, will they?
He’d show them. They weren’t the only ones with firepower.

Rafe darted into his trailer and dove for the sofa bench. Gripping the cushion, he yanked on it, pulling it free to reveal the storage area underneath. He tossed to the side the semi-automatic rifle, the handgun, and the three grenades. Useless human toys.

Leaning in deeper, he pressed against the false panel in the bottom until it clicked and popped loose. He reached into that hidden recess and pulled forth a
real
weapon.

Now that’s a gun.

While not very heavy, it did have size. Rafe carted it two-handed to the door, really wishing he’d thrown on more than pants. He hated going into battle almost naked. At least his balls were covered. On some worlds, the wildlife liked to jump and pinch. It made him envy the ball-less species that had evolved. Of even more concern than a possible snipping of his sac were his feet. Toes were a particularly tasty treat for some hungry critters.

Not a problem in the desert. Out here it was just the spiders, scorpions, and snakes he needed to watch for. At least until now.

Peeking through his door, the big gun cradled in his arms, Rafe searched the horizon for the culprits behind the demolished truck. The metal edges still glowed red from the heated laser blast that had disintegrated it.

Nothing moved. Nothing fired. Even the whine of the motorbikes had gone silent. Could they have left?

Possible. The destruction of the truck could have been a warning that it was time for Rafe to move on. Or perhaps the attackers thought him dead in the blast. A wrong assumption only an amateur would make.

He let his eyes track the open sky and area around his trailer. No sign of any drones or paratroopers. The only thing organic in nature and of concern was the delivery girl still lying on the ground. She didn’t move at all.

Did the blast kill her?
I hope not.
He’d feel bad. She was a nice girl who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

As if sensing his stare, she stirred, pushing herself up to an elbow. Her head shook as she probably tried to dispel the woozy effect of her tumble. He’d done enough to know the look.

She peered upward and recoiled as she noted her blasted vehicle. A tough wench, she didn’t remain on the ground. She scrambled to her feet and reached out to touch the hot truck.

Idiot. “Don’t touch that.”

At his words, two things happened. She turned and took a step toward him, and he heard the high-pitched whine of a bike popping out of a sound cloak, approaching from behind. Instinct made him whirl, but he could see nothing through the trailer. But the fact that he could hear the bike wasn’t good. Most enemies only uncloaked to shoot.

“Are you holding a gun?” the delivery girl squeaked, reminding him he wasn’t alone.

He turned his head to peer at her and noted her eyes rounded wide in shock. Her mouth opened, and he sighed. Just his luck, she was a screamer.

Except she didn’t scream. She did something worse. She questioned. “You better not be thinking of shooting me with that thing. You won’t get away with it.”

“I’m not shooting you. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re under attack.”

“Attack from who?”

Good question. He really should start a list of people he’d pissed off, but he didn’t have that kind of time. If he was smart, he’d stay away from things that might cause trouble, like people on cloaked bikes shooting lasers. Key emphasis on smart. His cousins always did say they’d dropped him on his head plenty when he was young.

The one thing Rafe didn’t have a problem with was survival.

As the whine of the bike’s engine grew louder, he took several steps away from his trailer home, moving to the corner so he could peer around it.

“Where are you going with that gun?” she asked.

Why, oh why, did some people feel a need to question when in dire situations? “Don’t worry about the gun. Get your ass into my trailer.”

“And why would I go into your place?”

“To save your life.”

“There’s a new line. Is this some elaborate scheme to get in my pants?” she huffed with her hands on her hips.

“No. But I might use this to my advantage later, though.”

“I’m not—”

He dove in her direction and shoved her out of the way before the laser, a zinging red bolt of pure heat, sliced through the air, the heat singeing some of his short hairs.

The woman hit the ground first, and Rafe landed atop her. As landing spots went, his was rather nice, and being a man, he took a brief moment to enjoy it. He also couldn’t resist a drawled, “How you doing?” And yes, he channeled his best Joey voice, which also sounded remarkably a lot like his cousin Emilian.

“Get off me.” She shoved at Rafe, but he was already moving.

Rolling to his feet, he tucked the gun back against his body. He scanned the area and finally noted one of the incoming culprits. Riding a speed bike with a laser gun mounted in the center of the handlebars, the helmeted figure hunched over it, not bothering to cloak anymore as the rider waited for the laser to charge for another blast.

But the incoming rider wasn’t the only problem; a second one remained cloaked. Again, not the biggest issue. That was reserved for the small cruiser that hovered a few hundred yards behind his house, just high enough off the ground that it could drop its cloak and avoid any radar in the area.

A two-pronged attack, ground and air. Even at this distance, he spotted the hole in the hull of the ship peeling open. Out came the gun, a big one, and no way to avoid it. Gun propped on his hip, Rafe prepared to shoot and wondered if today he’d get to meet his maker—and explain his many sins, most done in the name of, well, supporting himself. He’d long ago abandoned home and family. It was now Rafe against the universe, a universe that had finally caught up to him.

As he prepared to go out in a blaze of glory, it occurred to him he had nothing to lose. Except maybe his tongue, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing the delivery girl and planting a kiss on her full lips.

“Wha—”

He swallowed her protest as he embraced her, figuring if he was going to die he might as well do it having fun. Except…the expected pulverization didn’t happen.

With a bit of reluctance, because she did taste sweet even if she nipped his lip, he raised his head and noted the smoke curling from the cruiser’s weapon.

Misfire!
My god is watching over me.
The trickster deity once again hadn’t let him down.

A malfunctioning gun, though, didn’t mean his attackers were done. From under the ship, specks appeared. Floating toward them, using gravity-powered wings, a trio of hunters came zinging at them.

A slap distracted him. “How dare you kiss me!” she huffed, in full indignation.

“We’re under attack and you’re worried about a kiss? Maybe you should worry more about that. And that.” He pointed at the incoming problems.

“Who the hell are they?” Finally, Miss Oblivious noted their aerial company.

“Galactic bounty hunters would be my guess. Lucky for us, their aim sucks.” The best warriors in the galaxy chose a mercenary way of life. It paid much better. Those who couldn’t shoot joined the guilds, like the one for bounty hunting, for a steady paycheck.

“Bounty hunters?” Humans could achieve such high, incredulous notes—but the best ones happened in bed. “Why would they be after you, unless…” Her eyes widened. “You’re a criminal.”

“Can we discuss my illegal habits later? We really should move before they get off a lucky shot and turn us into dust. These guys don’t fool around when it comes to eliminating people wanted on bounties and warrants.”

“Maybe you’re wanted, but I haven’t done anything. I’m just an innocent bystander.” She shoved away from him and moved out into the open, waving her arms. “Hey there, Mr. Bounty Hunter. I’m not with him.”

Idiot.

Zing. The mini laser bullets peppered the ground in front of her, short of their target but showing their wicked intent with the puffs of dust they raised.

“They shot at me!” she squeaked.

“It’s what you get for associating with a known criminal. They now consider you my accomplice.” He smiled. “Welcome to my world.”

“This is your fault!” She yelled the accusation as she ducked behind him, moments before more laser bullets hit the ground where she’d stood.

Of course this was his fault. Way to state the obvious. Even more obvious was the fact that they’d end up as particles of ash if they didn’t get to safety.

“Get into my trailer.” Rafe shoved the woman in that direction before he leaned back and took aim.

Rat-tat-tat
. It took two hands to hold his rapid-fire laser weapon steady, and his aim wasn’t any better than the hunters. Stupid gravity and wind made a mockery of his years of practicing on the space stations.

Rafe did manage to clip one of the incoming brutes, but all that did was put his attacker on the ground where it dropped to all fours and sprinted.

Meanwhile the motorbike was close enough for him to see the bright red glow of the barrel, meaning it was ready to fire.

Shit.

He sprinted after his delivery gal, who hesitated before going in.

“You’re not a vampire. You don’t need a special invitation to go inside,” he growled as he shoved at her. “Move.”

“I don’t see how your puny trailer is going to protect us,” she muttered with a glare over her shoulder.

“Then stay outside. Right now, I really don’t give a fuck.”

For all her protesting, she apparently didn’t want to remain outside either, especially since the ground behind them was getting riddled with holes as the two remaining flyers got close enough to improve their aim.

She went into his trailer, and he dove in right after. As soon as he was inside, he pushed past her to his bedroom.

“I don’t think this is the time for a nap,” she remarked.

“I don’t intend to sleep until we’ve escaped from this situation.” Preferably alive. “Right now, we need to break camp and get out of here.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” she said, ducking as the ping of laser fire peppered his trailer, punching holes through it and letting daylight leak in. “You can’t exactly drive off with this thing and hope to outrun them.”

“Not with this thing I can’t.” He hauled back the worn, stained carpet in his bedroom and slapped his hand on the floor. The panel sank down a few cubits then slid sideways, revealing a hatch and a dark tunnel down.

“Is that a bomb shelter hiding under there?” she asked.

“Better. That’s the access tube to my spaceship.” How many guys could claim to own one of those? Cue the impressive music and get ready for her swoon of appreciation.

What he got instead was laughter.