Hijacked by Lolita Lopez
Chapter Nine
Misko checked the navigation table as the image updated and shifted. Camila had given them the coordinates for a planet that didn’t exist on any map. How her sister had managed to wipe an entire planet off the map without anyone realizing it confounded him. At the same time, it gave him hope. If she could do something like this, she could fix Andro.
Branko came out the captain’s quarters where their brother still slept. Before Misko could even ask, he shook his head. “No change.”
“We’re only twelve hours out from the secret base,” Misko said, trying to maintain his optimism. “As soon as we get there, Camila has promised to get her sister to diagnose him.”
“You think we can trust her?”
“The sister or Camila?”
“Both, I suppose.”
“Yes. I think Camila proved herself trustworthy.” And reckless and daring, he thought, but also gentle-hearted. The image of her holding that newborn and crying was forever imprinted in his mind.
“She’s not the spoiled little rich girl I thought she was,” Branko admitted.
Misko snorted. “Yes, she is, but she’s so much more.”
Branko stared at him for an unnervingly long moment. “You catching feelings for our not-a-hostage-maybe-an-ally?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Misko retorted. “I hardly know her.”
“Uh-huh,” Branko said, unconvinced. “Well, there’s one way you can get to know her better.”
He glared at his brother. “We’re on a mission.”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere, away from shipping channels and citizen travel routes. There isn’t a government flight path for lightyears. If ever there was a time to fuck around on a mission, this is it.”
Misko grimaced. “That’s so crass.”
“But true,” Branko replied. He planted his hands on the edge of the navigation table and studied the chart. “At least we’re headed far away from Kirs and in a completely opposite direction than the resort planet where this ship was headed. That should buy us enough time to reach our new destination without anyone catching up to us.”
“Were you able to change the ship’s signature?”
“Yes. Any scans from passing ships or buoys will show us as a decommissioned scrap ship bound for a junk station. White Fever,” he said. “That’s what I put on the quarantine warning.”
“Good choice,” Misko replied, certain no pirate or government vessel this far out would take a chance of boarding the ship. White Fever had a one-hundred-percent fatality rate and an infection rate of nearly ninety-eight-percent. The virus lived on surfaces for days and could be reactivated by moisture and temperatures above eighty-one degrees.
“I think it’s time for you to make a good choice,” Branko redirected their conversation. “Go back to Camila’s cabin. Take your recuperation time there. With her,” he added pointedly.
Misko blew out a noisy breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Branko placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Brother, I promise you that once you get started, you’ll figure it out. And, anyway,” he shrugged, “she looks like she’ll be one hell of a teacher.”
He glared at his brother. “Watch it.”
Branko grinned in that boyish, mischievous way of his. “See. I knew you had it bad for her.”
“You’re impossible.” He swatted away his brother’s hand. “You know where to find me if you need me before my recuperation cycle ends.”
“I won’t knock if I hear anything interesting on the other side of the door,” Branko called out as he stepped into the elevator.
Shaking his head at his brother’s rudeness, Misko selected Camila’s deck and leaned back against the wall. His head felt heavy and his eyes were dry and tired. A medical alert flashed in front of his eyes, warning him that he had gone a dangerously long time between rest periods. Even though he swept the alert away, he accepted that he couldn’t ignore it much longer. He would soon reach a point where the lack of sleep would render his reaction times less than optimum. For the safety of his team, he needed to rest.
Outside Camila’s cabin, he hesitated. Even though his brother had zeroed in on his actual feelings toward Camila, Misko didn’t want to presume or pressure her for anything more than she was willing to give. He entered her cabin without expectation, fully intending to simply find a comfortable spot to sleep.
Camila had already fallen asleep. She smelled of her scented soap, of the forest with a hint of sweetness, and her hair was still damp near the crown of her head as he gently stroked the strands. She slept on her side, her knees bent and her arms curled against her chest. He tried not to leer at her bare legs and the high cut of the shorts she had chosen. Her cropped shirt had crept up, and he could make out the soft curve of her breasts.
Feeling guilty for staring, he walked quietly to the bathroom and stripped out of his filthy uniform. He found the built-in sonic laundry cabinet and tossed everything into it before selecting the correct cycle. When he opened the shower door, he was surprised to find water controls. Having hot water on a ship was a novelty. Most of the military transports offered only sonic shower cubicles or cold blasts of chemical cleansers that burned his eyes and left his skin tingling.
Taking advantage of the luxury, he stayed under the hot stream, letting it pound into his sore and tired muscles. There was no other cleanser but hers available so he made do. The scent of her exploded in the steamy interior of the shower, and he breathed it in, letting it calm and center him.
When he stepped out of the shower, he noticed the automatic climate control had kicked in and kept the space cool and dry. He caught his reflection in the mirror over the large vanity and stepped closer to inspect his face. It was his first chance to truly examine the brand the emperor had forced upon him. He traced around the still sore edges of it, noticing the raised and irritated skin. His nanobots kept trying to repair the area, but it was useless. He blinked through his medical protocols to isolate that section of his face and turn off the repairs. There was no point in building up scar tissue.
After borrowing some of her dental cleansing foam, he waited for the sonic laundry cycle to end and plucked his clean uniform from the machine. He slipped into the long-legged briefs and carried the rest of his uniform into the living area of the cabin. He draped his shirt and pants over the back of a chair to ensure they wouldn’t wrinkle and left his socks and belt and boots nearby.
“Come to bed,” Camila’s soft voice called as he considered whether the sofa or floor would be the most comfortable.
Her gentle entreaty sent a streak of heat straight to his groin. Swallowing nervously, he said, “I’ll be fine over here.”
“I’m sure you would be, but I’m cold and you’re blazing hot so get over here and cuddle me,” she demanded in that high-handed way of hers.
Powerless to refuse her, he crossed the cabin. She had tugged down the covers and slipped underneath. She gestured to the space next to her, and he climbed onto the bed. His heartrate had picked up, causing his medical protocols to flash. He dismissed the warning and put his medical alerts on pause for the next few hours.
Camila snuggled in close to his side and placed her cheek on his chest. She draped her arm over his waist and murmured, “You’re so warm.”
“Glad to be of service,” he said, giving in to the desire to stroke his fingers down her bare arm. “You could alter your climate settings,” he pointed out. “Make it more comfortable.”
“But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to get you into my bed,” she whispered playfully before rising up and gazing down at him. The night lights mounted flush above her bed cast a pale pink glow on her skin and highlighted the mischief in her eyes. “May I kiss you?”
He answered her question by pressing his lips to hers, savoring the soft heat of her mouth. She moaned with encouragement when he threaded his fingers through her hair and tugged her closer. He gasped against her lips at the feel of her leg snaking over his thighs as she straddled him. The explosion of heat in his belly sent him reeling. He captured her mouth in more punishing kisses, stabbing his tongue against hers in a bid for dominance.
“Fuck,” he swore, his brain blitzing for a moment when she rocked her body against his. His heavy, hard cock ached for her touch and the slide of her warm sex threatened to short-circuit his processors.
“Too much?” She lifted her body away from his. “Should I slow down?”
He grasped her hips and dragged her right back down against him. “Don’t you dare.”
She wiggled her hips, causing him to gasp and buck underneath her. “I like a good dare.”
Suddenly overcome with worry that he would disappoint her, Misko said, “I don’t know if I can give you what you want, what you need.” He shut his eyes, not wanting to see her face as he embarrassed himself. “I haven’t ever done any of this.”
She smiled tenderly and stroked his cheek. “Mis, please don’t be nervous with me. I’m okay with whatever happens—or doesn’t,” she added gently and kissed him sweetly. “If all we do is make out, I’m totally fine with it. I just want to spend time with you.” She traced a line down his nose and then tapped his lower lip. “I really like you, Mis.”
“I really like you,” he replied and tugged her down for a passionate kiss. Desperate to feel more of her supple skin, he slipped his hands under her shirt and caressed her back. She shivered under his touch and leaned back enough to grab the bottom of her shirt. She quickly removed it and threw it aside. Pink light washed over her naked breasts, and he could think of nothing but touching them.
As if reading his mind, she grasped his hands and brought them to her chest. “Touch me,” she urged. “Feel my body.”
Her breasts were heavy in his hands—and soft, so soft. Everything about her was soft, he realized, as he swept his fingers down her torso and then along the generous curve of her waist. Unable to help himself, he slipped his hands into her panties and grasped her bottom in both hands. She gasped and then laughed, bending down to kiss him once again. “Do you want me to take them off?”
“Yes,” he groaned as she wiggled on his lap, stirring feelings he could hardly describe.
Her weight shifted off him as she removed her underwear. She reached over and stroked her hand along his erection trapped by the fabric of his briefs. “It’s okay if you want to take yours off, too.”
He nearly tore them in his haste to remove them, and she laughed before reaching down to grab them from his lower legs. She jerked them free from his feet and threw them somewhere over her shoulder. In the next heartbeat, she was straddling him again and leaning down to kiss him. Her nipples dragged against his chest and then—stars above—her slick labia dragged along the length of his cock.
Misko shuddered at the wicked sensation. She smiled mischievously. “Do you like that?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
She teased him again, sliding her wet pussy along his shaft until she reached the tip. She rubbed against the head of his cock, making herself shiver and gasp at the feel of his cock massaging her clitoris. Overwhelmed by the feelings she evoked, he gazed up at her in wonder. With a groan, he said, “You’re amazing.”
She grinned and nipped at his chest, his neck, his jaw. Ghosting her mouth across his, she whispered, “Baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
In the next moment, she began kissing and licking her way down his body. She kicked away the covers, baring them both, and slid all the way down the bed until her mouth hovered over his cock. His breaths grew shuddery and short, and he lifted up on his elbows to watch what she would do. Her elegant fingers clasped his throbbing shaft and stroked slowly up and down. He grunted at the wicked sensation, and she smiled lasciviously. “Do you want me to suck your cock, Mis?”
“Yes,” he said, shuddering. “Please.”
She touched the tip of her tongue to the root of his shaft and licked all the way to the crown with agonizing slowness. She repeated the movement a few more times before finally wrapping her lips around the head of his cock, surrounding his aching flesh in the warm, wet heat of her mouth. He gripped the sheet on either side of his hips as he tried to process the incredible and overwhelming sensations. “Camila!”
She hummed happily, and his eyes widened at the unreal vibrations rolling through him. She swirled her tongue around his cock and sucked him harder and deeper. With her hand wrapped around his shaft, she fluttered her tongue over the slit and pulled his length into her mouth again. He grunted and then gasped when she slid her mouth all the way down his cock, not stopping until her nose bumped against the wiry hair there.
Wanting to touch her, he combed his fingers through her hair and lifted his shoulders off the bed so he could watch her mouth gliding up and down his glistening erection. He curled his toes into the mattress, desperate for something to grip, and tried to calm the urge to pump his hips. She must have felt his attempts to hold back because she stopped sucking long enough to say, “You can fuck my mouth if you want.”
Her filthy words did wild things to his heart. The fluttering beats were accompanied by an electric arc of pleasure. Thanking his lucky stars that he crossed paths with someone like Camila, he gently thrust up into her mouth. She encouraged him with little moans and let him use her mouth in the way that felt best.
Torn between making the wonderful feelings last forever and desperately wanting to orgasm, he tempered his strokes. Her wicked tongue and the strong suction of her talented mouth drove him closer and closer to the brink. His fingers tightened in her hair, and she moaned with excitement. The enthusiastic sounds she made were his undoing.
With a groan of her name, he experienced his first orgasm since his teenage years. It was unlike the hasty, sticky releases into his hand or a tissue. Camila’s mouth was soft and hot and wet, and her hand added another layer of stimulation. She bobbed on his shaft, moaning happily as she sucked harder and faster. He surged off he bed at the buzzing burst of joy that exploded within him. Pulsing and pumping into her willing mouth, he let loose a strangled groan as she greedily swallowed his seed.
He shuddered as she eased off his cock, lapping gently and stroking slowly. The waves of euphoria rippled through him, and a feeling of extreme relaxation washed over him. Exhaustion began to cloud his vision, and the last thing he remembered before falling asleep was one single thought.
I’m not broken.
