Storms of Passion Read online

  “No way. I won’t be responsible for keeping you alive.”

  “I will take that responsibility upon myself. Now, if we’re quite through discussing, shall we be gone?”

  Khetan didn’t like it, and he was sure Trekar lied.

  “Captain, if we’re going, we need to leave now,” Max said. “We don’t know how long the atmosphere will remain stable.”

  Khetan inhaled deeply, let out a long steadying breath and turned to the men gathered around. “Brack, you’re in charge of the ship while we’re on the surface. Max, prepare the crew and transport, we leave as soon as all are assembled.”

  “A wise decision.” Trekar slowly dipped his head.

  Khetan moved to stand in front of the Durakee, his nose a mere whisper from Trekar’s. “If you cause the death of even one of my men, I’ll be the first to shoot you.”

  “Have no fear.” Trekar replied, his voice shaky and a whole lot less confident.

  Khetan left the bridge with Max close behind.

  “Remember our earlier conversation?” Max whispered.

  “Which one?”

  “The one about women, of course.”

  “What of it?” Khetan glanced at Max.

  “I have a feeling fate has played directly into your hands.” Max draped an arm over Khetan’s shoulder. “Perhaps the woman you’ll fall for will be on the planet below, just waiting to be discovered and rescued by her fair space knight.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Khetan shrugged out from under Max’s arm. “We’re going down to retrieve the survivors. Besides, women are nothing more than a hindrance to my goals and sanity.”

  “Don’t be so skeptical, my friend. They can also bring great pleasure.”

  “Good, then you can enjoy, as I’m sure you will.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  "Mayla, you know leaving the cave is not safe,” Sinsal implored.

  “I must retrieve supplies from the ship. I would not ask any of my people to risk their lives. We’ve already lost too many in the two weeks we’ve been here.” She forced the words past the lump in her throat.

  “But your death would be a greater tragedy than any of ours. We are but servants.”

  “And I am but a servant to my people. Those of us who survived the first storm have managed well enough, but how long will we last without food? We need those supplies.”

  The fear in Sinsal’s eyes gave Mayla a twinge, and she placed a hand on her beloved friend’s arm. “I will be back before the next storm comes in earnest.”

  Sinsal’s face paled. “That’s what Brenna said.”

  Mayla cursed inwardly, reliving the pain of loss. “Brenna died bravely trying to reach the supplies. I will not lose another. And I have the protection of this.” She held up the armored shell of one of the creatures that inhabited the planet, a giant centipede-like animal. They’d found a stash of the shells in the corner of the cave, apparently shed by the giant creatures. “I watched one hit full on by a bolt of lightening and not even slow down.”

  “But you are not one of these creatures. Perhaps its body absorbs the electrical charge.”

  “There is but one way to find out.” Mayla strode toward the mouth of the cave. The group of surviving women followed her, their gazes stricken as they watched their leader.

  The light shining into the mouth of the cave teased her, encouraging her to venture forth into the lush tropical paradise the planet offered.

  Sinsal grasped Mayla’s hand before she stepped through the opening. “I’m going with you.” Grabbing a similar shell, she moved alongside Mayla.

  Relief warred with fear for her friend, as she stared into Sinsal’s determined face. Mayla nodded and faced the waiting group of women. “We will return.” She spun on her heal and stepped out into the sunshine.

  Mayla paused for a brief moment and turned her face to the orange sun, letting the bright rays warm her skin. “Aye, I miss the sunshine.” The humidity in the cave was a natural air conditioner, keeping her people damp and cool. But to revel in the sun was what Mayla missed most.

  She’d spent many days on Shandal basking in the sun by the shores of the sea, soaking up the dying rays, as evidenced by her tanned skin and sun-lightened golden tresses.

  “Princess, we should hurry,” Sinsal’s voice shook, her gaze darting from under her upturned shield to the empty sky.

  Mayla’s chest tightened, and she shoved the armored shell over her head, blocking the sun. Yet, she couldn’t shove a hardened shell over the memories of her home planet.

  Shandal was a dying planet. Volcanic eruptions worked slowly to split it in two. No force in the universe could reverse the affects or mend their broken world. Mayla could do nothing but relocate her people to new homes on a far away planet. The Durakee had promised to help transport them to the new planet, not to the Palathean crystal mines.

  While holding a Batarian laser in her hand, Mayla trotted along the path to the disabled ship. When Sinsal strayed too close to the Punta flower, Mayla grasped her arm and pulled her clear. She refused to lose another to the electrically charged plant whose bright red flower lured its victims to touch it only to be zapped dead by hundreds of volts of electricity.

  The ship lay in a clearing, its smooth silver hull charred black in a dozen spots by multiple hits from the deadly lightning storms common to this planet. Even in a clear orange-tinged sky, lightning could spring from seemingly nowhere.

  Moisture beaded on her forehead and between her breasts as she hurried into the stifling stillness of the ship’s interior, intent on replenishing her people’s dwindling supplies. Mayla and Sinsal must retrieve them from the ship and get back to the cave before the next storm struck.

  Grabbing two large sacks from a compartment in the dining facility, Mayla tossed one to Sinsal and they quickly loaded neatly packaged foods.

  Looping the long strap of the bag over her head, she lifted. The sack weighed heavily, but she could manage.

  “That’s all we can carry and still protect ourselves. We must leave.”

  Weaving their way through the ships corridors to the exit, Mayla heard a rumbling sound outside the ship. “Hurry, Sinsal, the storms approach!”

  When Mayla reached the hatch, she peered out. The sky remained clear and pale orange. As the rumbling neared, the sound increased and intensified into a high-pitched scream of thrusters, pushing against gravity.

  Sinsal pointed at the sky. “Look! A ship!”

  Stark relief flooded through Mayla’s veins. A ship. They were going to be rescued. Her knees nearly buckled with relief and the added weight of the sack of food. She steadied herself against the bulkhead to keep from collapsing. Then another thought occurred and her heart jumped into her throat.

  When the small shuttlecraft landed in the clearing to the side of their crippled ship, Sinsal stepped forward.

  Mayla grabbed her shoulder. “Wait! What if they are smugglers or pirates? Or worse, Durakee?”

  The happy smile on Sinsal’s face slipped and she turned huge eyes to Mayla. “This may be our only chance for a rescue. How can we not welcome them?”

  “I know. All I ask is that we hold back, watch and listen. I would hate to have survived only to be forced into slavery on the Palathean mining planet. Or placed on another ship to Durak.”

  Sinsal glanced at the shuttle then back at Mayla. “Shall we hide in the ship or in the brush?”

  “The brush. Hurry!”

  “But what of the storms?”

  “The storms may be the least of our worries if these men are Durakee.” Mayla took off at a run.

  As the shuttlecraft’s hatch lowered, the women, loaded with their sacks of food, scurried for cover on the periphery of the open field.

  Mayla threw herself to the ground, and scrambled behind a low-growing bush, dragging her sack with her. Her breath came in hard gasps, and she willed herself to a calm she didn’t feel. She stared in morbid fascination at the ship that could prove to be either their destin
y or destruction.

  Sinsal squatted next to her, her eyes round and her body trembling.

  Before the hatch touched the ground, five men stepped out. Each carried a weapon, aimed in all directions of the perimeter around the ship.

  The man in the middle stepped forward and waved his weapon toward the disabled Durakee ship. “Max, you and Jepal search the ship. The rest of you, search the area to the sides and behind the ship. I’ll take the front.”

  “Khetan, what do we do if we find something?”

  “Nothing. Report to me,” the man called Khetan said, his voice stern with authority.

  The men laughed and dispersed.

  “Do you think it’s safe? Are they the good guys?” Sinsal whispered into Mayla’s ear.

  Mayla didn’t respond to Sinsal’s questions. The blood in her veins surged as the man called Khetan moved around the edge of the field, slowly closing in on their hiding place.

  His dark hair curled past the collar of his jacket and the stubble on his chin gave him a sinister look. One wavy lock fell over his forehead, the darkness in sharp contrast to pale, blue eyes. Broad shoulders, narrow waist and a determined look, made him appear formidable and extremely desirable.

  Her senses jerked, and a surge as strong as a Shandalan lava burst crashed through her veins. She recognized the precursor to a chemical release, and she willed her body to relax and the chemicals to subside. But the closer the man came, the faster her blood moved and she could feel the tingling sensation of the Shandalan Effect reach out to every nerve-ending.

  She couldn’t stop her body’s natural emission of the delicate perfume sensed only by the males of human species.

  “What’s wrong?” Sinsal nudged her.

  “I can’t stop it,” Mayla responded in a desperate whisper.

  “Stop what?”

  “The Effect.”

  Sinsal gasped.

  The man’s head swung in their direction. He moved quickly toward them.

  Sinsal grabbed her elbow and forced her to her feet. “Come, Princess, run!”

  Mayla couldn’t pull her gaze from the advancing stranger. Something about him triggered her body’s response. She knew she should run, but she couldn’t move.

  * * * * *

  Khetan saw the two women leap to their feet. One grabbed the other’s arm and dragged her away from the clearing into the woods.

  “Halt!” he shouted.

  His command had little affect on the women, but his men appeared from inside and around the ship. Khetan raced to the edge of the clearing where the women had disappeared down a narrow path.

  When he reached the area where he first noticed the women, his adrenaline kicked into high gear and he had the sudden urge to pound his chest in frustration. He had to find them. Beyond getting paid for this mission, he needed to find them on a deeper, more primitive level.

  He stumbled a step, hardening in response to what he assumed was the sight of the women. How long had he gone without the comforts a woman could offer? And how much longer would he go if he didn’t at least find the women who’d now disappeared out of his sight?

  Khetan forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand and kicked into gear to race down the path.

  “What are we after?” Max yelled from behind him.

  “Two women,” Khetan answered, then he spotted them again. “There they go!”

  The women split up running in opposite directions.

  “You take the one on the right,” he shouted to Max and Khetan sped after the golden haired woman on the left.

  She was fast even though her legs were shorter and a large sack weighed her down. It took Khetan longer than he wanted to finally catch up. When he was within arm’s length, he launched himself grabbing hold of her waist. The force of his body threw her off balance and he landed on top of her on the ground.

  Gulping air into his lungs, he shifted to take some of his weight off the woman, but left his legs draped over hers. She lay on her stomach, her shoulders heaving with the effort to replace the air in her lungs after her mad dash.

  Khetan couldn’t see her face, but his first impression was of a mass of golden tresses in wild disarray covering her shoulders and fanning out on the ground.

  When her breathing slowed, her body twisted and she pushed her arms beneath her. “Get off me,” she demanded, when she couldn’t move her legs. She collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.

  Khetan grabbed her shoulder and he rolled her over onto her back, removing the pressure of his leg long enough to allow her legs to follow.

  He’d only loosened his hold for a moment, but the woman jerked her limbs from beneath him and aimed her foot in an attempt to kick him full in the face.

  Khetan threw his body over hers, crushing his chest to hers, squeezing the air out of her lungs. He waited until she calmed. With one hand, he pinned her wrists high above her head, then he straddled her hips.

  Anger flashed from golden eyes through a veil of wavy strands of hair splayed across her face.

  He reached his free hand to push the hair aside and got bit for the effort.

  “Will you calm, woman!” he roared, snatching his hand back to see the angry red ring of teeth marks.

  “I will as soon as you get off me!” she retorted, bucking beneath him.

  The movement caused his body to respond in an immediate and dramatic manner. Within seconds he was as hard as Luithian granite.

  He shifted uncomfortably, resisting an overwhelming urge to toss his clothes from his body and take the woman. What had come over him? Wave upon wave of desire washed through his system. The need to couple with her threatened to overshadow rational thought. His craving surged so strong it manifested into physical pain--he could think of only one way to alleviate this kind of ache. He stared down at her, his mind warring with his body.

  She stilled beneath him, her eyes narrowing slightly. Then she lowered her eyelids and rubbed her pelvis against the bulge in his trousers. “Let me go and I’ll relieve your pain,” she said in a husky voice.

  Khetan moved, his body automatically responding to the invitation in her words. Before he shifted his leg to release hers, he slammed it back in place. Had he no mind? Was he led by his balls?

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “I’m Mayla, Princess of Shandal. And who are you to think you can keep me prisoner?”

  “I’ll keep you prisoner as long as it takes for you to come to your senses,” Khetan growled.

  “I will be nobody’s prisoner!” Again, she bucked beneath him, her breasts rubbed against his chest and her pelvis bumped the swollen appendage tucked tightly in his pants. “I will cut off your head, you Traborian Numspat! Then I will feed you to the lion-like creature inhabiting this planet. In fact I venture to guess it watches you as we speak. I wouldn’t be surprised if it licks its lips savoring the anticipation--”

  Khetan lowered his mouth to hers, effectively cutting off the flow of words and curses. All her talk of licking lips only drew his attention to hers, until he could resist no longer. But once begun, he couldn’t stop. The waves of desire discharged in a rush of need and he freed her hands to reach for the zipper at the front of her jumpsuit.

  He ripped the device downward and lifted his head to view the creamy mounds of her breasts spilling free. He thought he would explode from his pants.

  “I will not couple with you, pirate!” the woman said through gritted teeth. Her actions belied her words as she slid her hands beneath his shirt, her fingers leaving fiery imprints on his raw nerves.

  “What are you? A sorceress?” he asked, his head dipping, his lips wrapping around the peaked tip of her right breast.

  “No!” she gasped. Yet, she laced her fingers through his hair and pressed him closer.

  Khetan lifted his head and switched to the other breast, tonguing and teasing the hardened peak with the tip of his tongue. “Are you a witch, who’s made me incapable of controlling my need?”

  Her b
ack arched, pressing her pelvis against his throbbing desire. “No! I am not a witch. I...am...” she panted then forced out the last, “Shandalan!”

  Her words were a blur to his memory. He pushed the zipper lower, revealing the flat, smooth muscles of her belly. Lower still, exposing a mound of light brown curls.

  His mouth watered, and he delved his hand into the nest, seeking her center. Dipping into the moist, warm folds, he tucked a finger into her and swirled, stirring her desire to match his. His lips and tongue burned a trail down the center of her chest, ducking into her bellybutton and out to continue downward.

  Mayla bucked and pushed his head lower, shrugging out of her sleeves.

  Khetan slid the jumpsuit over her hips and down her legs, baring her to his heated gaze. His breath caught in his throat. She was a goddess, ripe and creamy with desire. Her golden hair spread across the ground, her mouth swollen from his kisses.

  She spread her legs and pressed her hand to her cunt, the moisture glistening over her fingers.

  He scooped his hands beneath her and lifted her buttocks, dipping in for a taste of her creamy sex.

  Kaboom!

  Khetan’s head shot up. “What was that?”

  “Lightning!” Mayla’s eyes were wide orbs in her face. She leaped to her feet, and grabbed for her clothing and the sack of food.

  Lurching to an upright position, still in the clutches of passion, Khetan stared at her naked beauty, unable to comprehend the danger crashing around him.

  “Hurry!” Not pausing to pull her clothes over her bare skin, she ran.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Mayla raced down the trail toward the cave. Twigs and branches tore at her skin. She glanced back once to see if Khetan followed. If the storm weren’t threatening to kill them, she’d have breathed a sigh of relief when he closed the gap between them. But danger struck all around them in jagged bolts.

  She was glad he was still with her. Although she still didn’t know his intentions, her gut told her to trust him. Seldom had her instincts been wrong until recently when the lying Durakee leader tricked her into taking the last group of Shandalan refugees to New Shandal. He’d promised to take the Shandalans to their new planet.