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Dangerous missions, hidden enemies, an unexpected passion threaten to destroy them…
Tarik Baill is on a mission to keep a corrupt government from turning a new life form—one he created—into a weapon of war and destruction. Even if he is successful at getting past the guards, securing the ship, and taking command of BioOne, he’ll have to navigate a volatile and deadly region of space to rendezvous with his group. Taking a sexy brunette dressed in a skintight body suit as a hostage and dealing with an eager to please sex-bot was never part of his agenda. But for Tarik, nothing ever goes as planned.
Shon Monet’s assignment is to tour the ship and tout the accomplishments of a government that will reign in a new era of diplomacy. Then why the secrecy surrounding BioOne? In order to find out, she steals aboard the ship only to become an unwilling guest of a hijacking. Shon is determined to uncover the real story of BioOne and Tarik Baill. But how is she supposed to focus on the mission when, with the slightest touch, the sexy and dangerous pirate makes her shiver?
Excerpt:
The stench of ionic exhaust spewing from the cluster of idling engines
soured Tarik Baill’s stomach and burned his nasal membranes. Yet, he waited
with his heart racing and his senses fully alert. Waiting. Waiting. “In
position. Ready for go.”
“Hold, repeat, hold your position.”
Tarik glanced over his shoulder one last time. “Negative, Morry. We
move now.”
“Tarik, I need more time.” Morry liked a plan and hated when situations
erupted outside of his control. This wasn’t the time for hesitation.
“Sorry, we don’t have any more time.”
Boom!
An explosion rocked the port side of the space station. Tarik bolted
from his crouched position. Sweat trickled along his spine and dampened his
palms. He tightened his grip on his ion pistol, squeezed off a deadly pulse of
yellow energy and dropped a Tri’Neith government soldier guarding the ship. His ship. The guard crumbled to the
ground.
Sensing another guard, Tarik shifted. A flash of light blinded, and
searing pain ripped through the flesh of his upper left arm. Fuck. He ignored
the pain—his military training still serving him well—and returned fire. The
guard cried out as his trigger hand disintegrated. Tarik fired again, assuring
the man wouldn’t be a further hindrance. Then he signaled to his team.
Morry rushed over, spun, and braced his back against the ship. “You’re
a crazy sonofabitch. One of these days, you’re going to get yourself into a
situation you can’t get out of.”
“Not as long as you have my back.” Tarik grinned as the automatic door
of the spaceship hissed open.
Tarik entered the craft first, his men slipping in behind. Morry covered
the entrance and Rodra stealthily slithered through the corridor to the lower
deck. Intel had guards outside the ship. If they were lucky, there would be
only a few casualties inside.
The vessel was small—in its infancy—and the only one of its kind. Tarik’s
footfalls were whisper quiet as he raced through the main area of the ship. The
layout had only slightly altered from his memory. He bolted left, then charged
into the dimly lit captain’s suite, staying low to create a smaller target.
Adrenaline and battle stimulants mixed to sharpen his senses all the
way to the cellular core. He forced his breathing to slow. Steady inhales and
exhales. He focused and listened. The fully charged pulse gun at his shoulder
was set to combat mode and, like him, covered in blood spatter. Detecting no
soldiers, he relaxed his stance.
“Lights,” he commanded softly. Movement caught his eye. With lightning
swift reflexes, he snapped the gun to the left. “Shit.” He’d almost blasted a
newer model fem-bot to pieces. Big tits, a tight ass, and the soft curves of a
woman. But she was nothing but a damn mechanical date. “You’re lucky you aren’t
reduced to spare parts.”
“I have just the spare parts you need, sir,” the mechanically feminine
voice soothed.
The plush suite had the amenities of any luxury space resort. Liquors
from across the galaxy stocked the full bar. Everything from Earth motion
pictures to Ocara hard-core sex flicks. Some of twin-cocked beasts double
penetrating females of every persuasion. Lavatories, closets, and the master
bedroom were on the same par of comfort.
Tarik moved on, quickly continuing the sweep with his gun at full
ready. The bot followed behind as he searched onward.
“Is your large weapon always kept at the ready?”
Tarik rolled his eyes. “Who programmed you?”
“Captain Javis. I have several programs ready to be initiated.” The bot
suggestively swiveled its mechanical hips.
Tarik lowered the gun barrel. “Not now.”