The Space Colonel's Woman (Dragonus Chronicles Book 1) Page 9

  Glider one was a dream to fly. A pocket rocket of greased lightning that thrummed, purred, and rolled over under her touch. Julia put her telepathic foot down and Glider one responded instantly, the landscape streaking as it sped by far below.

  “Having fun?”

  Mark’s question was rhetorical since one look at Julia’s wide eyes, flushed cheeks, and manic grin was answer enough.

  “She’s amazing!”

  The display bleeped; destination reached. Glider one hovered in place awaiting Julia’s next command. A purebred alien pedigree on a telepathic leash. Every system eager and ready to be set free.

  “I’ll load the simulation.” Mark’s fingers tapping out a sequence on the console. “Just follow what you see on the display.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’ll do great.” He glanced up, eyebrow quirked in question, before looking back at the console. “You got us here, didn’t you?”

  “True.”

  “Program’s loaded.” He gestured to the virtual topography of a canyon with plenty of twists and turns, and a tiny red glider silhouette waiting at the bottom of the screen. “When you’re ready, Wings.”

  The fact Mark had lounged back in his chair with no more concern than if he were having a few beers at a local bar, gave her back the confidence that had been seeping away the longer she held Glider one in check. She took a deep breath, and accelerated into the computer-generated canyon.

  Julia focused on the display instead of the icy-blue sky beyond the windshield. Her speed increasing as her confidence grew. Glider one responded with enthusiasm to the combination of thought and touch, like a dog wagging its tail to the sound of its master’s praise. And soon Julia had the little ship executing rolls, slides, nose dives, and high-angle climbs; a symbiotic understanding between pilot and machine. A match made in the dark recesses of a long-forgotten Zydonian scientist.

  The exercise was over before she knew it; holographic display bleeping the end of the simulation. Julia rolled out her shoulders then her neck as she slowed Glider one back into an idling hover.

  “Wow!”

  “Wow’s right.” Mark sat in his seat, looking as stunned as she felt. “You can fly.”

  Julia gave him a puzzled frown. “You doubted I could?”

  “Oh, no no,” He waved his hand, then rubbed it through his hair, leaving random spikes in its wake. “It’s your skill level. Combat pilots take two, maybe three goes, to match your interface compatibility.”

  “So…” Julia felt a warm prickling sensation stroke her mind. “…I did good?”

  “Yep.”

  He pushed out of his chair and leaned down to kiss her. “Almost as good as me.”

  “No false modesty then, Colonel.” Julia brushed her fingertips over Mark’s cheek and he chased the touch.

  “Pilots aren’t renowned for their modest egos.” He stole another kiss and traced the shape of her lips with the pad of his thumb, before pulling back and whispering. “Amazing.”

  “Wanna fly it for real?”

  Julia was keen for anything that meant she could do more glider-flying. She was already addicted. “Hell yes!”

  “Hop up, I’ll fly it first.” He chuckled at her crestfallen expression and tugged her up out of the chair, hand tight around her bicep. “Then it’s your turn.”

  Mark flew Glider one through the actual canyon that turned out to be located right below where Julia had been flying the simulation. She could see the beginnings of a target range under construction before he stepped on the gas and the purple-grey canyon walls became a blur.

  She knew he was showing off, but she couldn’t help being impressed. He flung the little ship around blind corners, over outcroppings, through rock arches, and straight up as they reached the end wall. When they had levelled out back at thirty-thousand feet, Mark turned and bowed from the shoulders; his arms wide in a mimicry of courtly submission.

  “Very impressive, Colonel.” Julia’s blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “Is it my turn now?”

  He stood up, gesturing to the pilot’s seat as if he were a waiter in a five star restaurant. “But of course, Wings, she’s all yours.”

  She loved the way her call sign rolled off Mark’s tongue. The whiskey-drenched velvet of it made her want to curl up in his lap and purr.

  Instead, she drew herself into a world where only she and Glider one existed. She was determined to complete the run perfectly; working on matching, and beating, Mark’s time would come later. Julia dove into the start of the canyon and accelerated, dipping under the first rock arch before swinging the glider onto her port wing tip and flinging them around a blind bend. Glider one levelled out in time to skim the rise of cliffs before flipping back onto her starboard wing to fly vertical through a narrow gap. Before Julia knew it, the end canyon wall was looming up fast, but she waited; waited as the gap rapidly closed.

  “Ah, Wings?”

  Mark’s fingers dug into the soft arms of his chair.

  Julia increased their speed, and yanked the nose up. The underbelly of Glider one skimmed the wall of rock as they ejected from the canyon, and climbed back to thirty-thousand in a matter of seconds.

  “Nice.”

  “I did say I could fly.” She laughed at the stunned expression on his face. The tension in Mark’s body melted away, leaving only broad shoulders and long lean limbs in its place. “What did you expect?”

  “Yeah, you did.” He rubbed both palms over his face, speech muffled for a moment. “Knew you would. Didn’t think you’d have that level of precision though.”

  He hit buttons on the console and the display fed him Julia’s run statistics.

  “Sixty-point-two seconds.”

  “Is that good?”

  “Damn good, for a first time.”

  “What’s your best time?”

  “Forty-eight flat.” He smiled. “Take a bit to beat me, Beautiful.”

  “I’ve got time.” She straightened in her seat and huffed a breath, making the whisper curls around her face dance. “Besides, it’s only twelve seconds – give or take a point.”

  Mark’s belly laugh had him clutching at his sides, knees pulling up on reflex.

  “No doubt you’re a pilot.” He gasped for air. “Confidence isn’t something you’re lacking.”

  “Sure, you’re laughing now, but we’ll see who has the last laugh when I come in under forty-eight.”

  Mark wheezed, slumping deeper into his chair as his laughter consumed him. Julia circled around and headed back to Phoenix, glowing with pride in herself and a steely determination to wipe the grin off her colonel’s handsome face.

  Once she touched down and Glider one had, with the help of some mysterious alien tech too complex in nature to delve into, come to rest on its docking clamp, Mark stood up and rested his hands on the arm rests of her chair. It was a familiar action and she couldn’t help the fission of heat licking up her spine.

  Perhaps he was thinking along similar lines because he smiled, slow and thoughtful, and leaned in to kiss her breathless. Julia moaned, couldn’t help it, and ran her hands up into soft black whorls; tugging Mark closer, keeping him right where she wanted him.

  Time had passed, but she had no clue how much when he pulled back; gasping for air and running his tongue over the contour of his lips. His dark pupils edged in a thin ring of whiskey fire. Julia felt the heat of his gaze on her heaving breasts and tried to calm her racing heart. She wanted him; wanted him bad. But Colonel Archer was expecting her to report on how her first flight had gone. Their pleasure would have to wait.

  She stood into the small space between the chair and Mark, ran her hands over his chest and down across the place where he was hard and eager for her. He ground against her touch in a silent request she had to refuse.

  “Mark.” She murmured in warning as he traced a palm around the shape of her ass, pressing her closer. “Colonel Archer’s waiting.”

  He kissed her again, hips grinding tight and
close, so turned on the slightest hint of weakness on her part would find her bent over a chair, and screaming her pleasure for all of Phoenix City to hear. Julia moaned aloud at the thought and knew she’d already surrendered. Mark’s tongue tasted the cavern of her mouth as he scooped her into his arms, carried her into the rear cabin and placed her on the bench seat.

  “On your knees.” He ordered, rough and urgent as he tugged both BDUs and white cotton panties down her thighs.

  He gripped tight to the curve of her hips and thrust in deep and quick. At this pace it’d be over all too soon. Julia could do nothing more than lay her forehead on the cool leather and push back to meet each stroke; the feel of him filling her amped by the lingering buzz of adrenalin sparked low in her belly. Glider one’s telepathic approval of their X2 bond thrumming a warm caress across her mind shoved Julia over into climatic bliss, chased quick by embarrassment, aware the ship understood what they were doing. Could see how having Mark in and around her affected her. How his touch anchored her to her body. Glider one fed the information back to her through their connection, through Mark’s as well, and Julia shuddered with the surging insistent heat of it. Bright blue synapses igniting and overwhelming her as Mark joined her in a torrent of confusion and completion she feared she would forever crave.

  ~*~

  Julia sat in Mark’s lap, back to chest with her legs splayed over his, and sighed in contentment.

  “I aim to please.” He chuckled, cupping her breasts through her shirt and making her hiss as he tweaked her nipples. “Customer satisfaction is my only goal.”

  She laughed, full and light, still riding her afterglow. His hands slid down her flanks and tickled her hips, making her squirm in his lap.

  “Unless, you’re wantin’ round two, I suggest you sit still.”

  He stared at her with such intensity she felt like a mouse hypnotized by a cobra. Her heart thudding, breath caught, and temperature rising; the spell breaking when he tickled her ribs. Julia felt him harden as her ass shifted around him.

  “Damn, woman!” Mark groaned, big hands anchoring her in place as he ground up to meet her. “Do you know what you do to me?”

  She whispered his name, soft and teasing, into his fever-hot skin. He pulled her tighter into him; seeking out her heat through her clothing.

  “I have to go.”

  “I’ll write you a hall pass.”

  “I don’t think that’ll work.” She moaned in both pleasure and protest. “When do you get off?”

  Julia bit her lip, waited for Mark to answer the pun with hot words and even hotter enticements.

  “Sixteen-hundred, unless something comes up.”

  “I’ll see you at sixteen-o-one, then.” She whispered in his ear, head lolling on his shoulder while she arched her breasts into the squeeze of his hands before pushing up onto shaky legs. “Make sure you’re not overdressed.”

  Julia felt his groan of anticipation low in her belly and smiled a dreamy smile as she walked down Glider one’s ramp, headed for the access bridge. Please let today go fast.

  Super-duper alien light-speed fast.

  Chapter 10

  Smash Cut had closed out season two of their flagship show Phoenix Rising with a two-part episode that saw the demise of the Darvac as the dominant threat in the Dragonus galaxy. It was the most watched season finale in the studio’s history, with record-breaking ratings across all viewer platforms. When the Emmy’s were dished out, Phoenix Rising collected five awards. Three for the CGI used in the epic battle scenes of Part II: D-Day.

  It wasn’t until she had watched Mark donned his Class A’s and slipped a black satin sash across his chest, in preparation for the memorial service, that Julia realized D-Day had actually happened. For the men and women of Phoenix City and the allied worlds of Dragonus, those events were more than entertaining television created for the titillation of couch-bound audiences. They were memories and experiences they would carry with them to their graves. Many had done just that. Their friends left behind to mourn their passing, while they celebrated the downfall of Darvacion oppression.

  The Service of Remembrance was held in the amphitheater at the close of Phoenix City’s crown, overlooking the stretch of the canyon plains toward the mountains in the distance; still cloaked in dawn’s pre-light. Padre Smith had officiated reading aloud one name for every candle and attendee placed on the steps; a symbol of gratitude, hope, and remembrance that burned straight and true in the breathless air.

  Julia had watched from the back row as Mark took his turn. It had felt wrong to occupy a front row seat when she hadn’t served. Nor had she lost a friend, a lover, or a comrade to a battle that, until now, had been nothing more than the imaginings of a gifted screenwriter. But Phoenix City was her home and its military commander her love. It was important to her to be there.

  As the sun rose with shards of pure white and summer yellow to flood the plains before them, Padre Smith led with a prayer; each poignant line intoned by his audience. They rose as one to observe a minute’s silence, and saluted as one for the departure of the colors.

  Like the other residents of Phoenix City, Mark and Julia opted to find a quiet spot and just be. She spread the picnic rug from her backpack in a corner of manicured park and they lazed in the dappled shade of a pink-leafed tree. It reminded Julia of their time together on Onemana beach and she lifted her head to press a kiss over his heart. Mark smiled, fingers playing in her hair as he read aloud from her favorite book; the languid rhythm of his voice lulling her into a doze.

  At the going down of the sun, Phoenix City threw off her mourning shrouds and put on her dancing shoes. Her lost comrades would always be remembered, but it was time to celebrate Dragonus’ hard-won freedom.

  The Mess hall tables had been pushed to the sides and the white and silver architecture strobed in random patterns of pink, orange, and silver. Two rounds in and the girls were singing and dancing together in the center of the crowded, blue-lit dance floor. Julia was buzzing nicely when Stephen, Hayden, and Mark walked in; her temperature soaring higher as she spotted them in the doorway. Mark looked incredible in civilian clothes, his hair a wild chaos no styling product would ever tame.

  She imagined what it would’ve been like to meet him in a bar or club. How the bright lights and intimate shadows flirted with the contours of his handsome face, and the long lean lines of his body. His white open-collared shirt set off his tan and his black jeans rode his thighs and ass like a second skin.

  Julia had stopped dancing; was calling him with a crooked finger and a hungry look in her eyes. He moved through the crowd with the powerful grace of a hunting panther, his gaze never shifting from hers. No one would doubt it was her he wanted.

  Mark leaned in, lips soft and breath hot against her ear as he grazed a fingertip across the bare skin of her shoulder, traced the thin strap of her little red top. “All this for me?”

  She nodded, swallowing hard as she leaned into his solid heat. Her own hands laying claim over his flanks and narrow hips as he slid a palm over the curve of her ass, callouses snagging on her skirt; its frilled hemline cut to reveal flower vine garters and sheer black stockings. He smelled fantastic; soap and cologne with an underlying scent that was all his own, and she couldn’t believe this man, this military man, this sex god, wanted her.

  “I got your note.”

  Julia allowed her gaze to travel over him from head to toe. “I figured.”

  “You wanna dance, do you, Beautiful?”

  She grinned, the heat in her cheeks disguised by the timely swirl of pink overhead.

  The music changed and Mark pulled her into his hard length. She placed her palm on his bicep as he took her right hand and led her into a cha cha. Her mind was blown. He could dance, and she felt beautiful and sexy in his arms. When the song ended she slid her leg up and hooked it over his thigh. He held it there and dipped her back, offering a chaste kiss to her lips. Julia opened her eyes only to be caught like a deer in headlights
, Mark’s whiskey gaze alive with flecks of fire and want. His desire to take her right there on the dance floor surrounded by his men and his colleagues a potent lure. Images flickered through her mind like scenes from a movie. Alcohol and adrenalin coursed through her blood making her lightheaded. Mark’s chest heaved against her from exertion and hunger, his arms rigid as he fought to control himself.

  “God, what you do to me.” He murmured, husky and rich and seductive, burying his face in her hair and inhaling her scent.

  “We should get you a drink.” Julia eased her leg back down, before taking his hand and weaving their way to the servery.

  They waited in line and Mark pulled her back against him, his hands cradling her hips. She felt the hard line of him against her ass as he ground his hips.

  “Focus, Mark.”

  “Oh, I’m focused, Beautiful.” He moved her hair away from her neck, dipped in to lay a kiss on her nape. “I’m focused on the way you’re wriggling your ass back even though you know you shouldn’t. I’m focused on how your gorgeous tits feel in my hands, against my tongue.”

  Julia shivered, she couldn’t help it. The way he talked about her, told her what she did to him. She’d never had a lover like her colonel before; never dreamed – well, okay, so maybe she’d dreamed, fantasied – but never thought to actually find a man like Mark. She’d pinched herself too many times to count since she’d come to Phoenix. Still half-convinced it was all a dream or cruel joke on the part of the Universe, or Destiny, Fate, or alien deity, to lessen the boredom of an endless eternity. Any minute she’d wake up and find the white she saw everywhere was actually the padded walls of her cell.

  “Poor baby, such hardships you suffer.” She teased with a roll of her hips, forcing Mark to tighten his hold to stay on his feet. “But can we dance now, and play later?”

  He pouted and she laughed.

  “What can I get ya?”

  “Beer and a…” Mark quirked a brow, waiting for Julia to say what she wanted.