Raines, Elizabeth - Wanted [Wicked Missions 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

Wicked Missions 5

ELIZABETH RAINES

Copyright © 2011

Chapter 1

Callinda Seebré jerked the veil away from her face, weary of feeling as if the damn thing was smothering her. She could only gasp and pant after having run for so long. Her side ached with a stitch, but she knew she couldn’t take too much time to catch her breath. She had to make it to the docking platform before the ship with the precious medicines took off.

Slipping her hand into the slit she’d cut in her long robe, she pressed her fingers against the pulse pistol holstered against her hip. She still wasn’t sure she could actually shoot anyone, but her boyfriend had encouraged her to take it along just in case. Funny, but when she’d told Mikel she was going to that docking platform come hell or high water, he’d been very supportive—up until the time came to leave, and he told her there was no way he could go with her. Something about his boss needing him to get to the office immediately.

So much for love…

No way would
she
let
him
go on a mission like this on his own, which only confirmed her growing suspicion that she was much more committed to their relationship than he was. His lack of heart and compassion for the children she was trying to save had all but killed her budding affection for Mikel.

With a shake of her head, Callinda focused on the job she faced rather than her pathetic love life. The children in the mission hospital were counting on her, and she’d vowed not to let another girl die because of lack of what should be a freely available drug. Unfortunately, the Bromond government didn’t give a flying fuck what happened to the females on this world. The men on the desert planet saw women as nothing more than property, and they often abandoned their daughters at birth, leaving them to die in the heat of the sand dunes. Working with others who, like her, believed the practice to be barbaric, Callie helped save as many of the baby girls as they could and tried to find homes for them on other worlds.

And then the plague arrived, and no one would “waste” good drugs on girls. So when she received some highly valuable information from her less-than-savory contacts that Ampirica was arriving on Bromond via some well-established drug smugglers, she decided that she would steal the drugs from those smugglers as they delivered them to the person who would sell them for exorbitant prices on the black market. Her contacts told her she was crazy to even think about it, let alone try it. Callie hadn’t bothered arguing that pronouncement. It wasn’t the first time someone had told her she was nuts.

Drawing the veil back across her face, she peeked around the corner of the alley, relieved to see she was still alone. Gathering the long robe in her hands, she lifted it above her knees and started running toward the docking area. The sounds of the night were drowned out by her own heavy breaths, but on she ran, terrified she’d miss the one opportunity to steal the drugs her girls needed. Her informant had assured her that today was the day for a shipment of Ampirica, and she wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.

She skidded to a stop in front of Platform Eight and quickly ducked behind some enormous crates, moving from one to the next to get closer and watch the two men standing next to the ship.

Dressed in camo pants, dark T-shirts, and black combat boots, they looked more like soldiers than the pirates she’d expected. No wide sashes or silver swords. No weathered hats jauntily dipped toward their brows. No long hair or patches over one eye. Of course, her silly romantic notions of swashbuckling swordsmen were based on the ancient Earth tomes she and her older sister Lyrianna had grown up reading. Their ship was small, and it appeared to be built for speed rather than for transporting people or cargo. A modern version of a pirate frigate.

Both smugglers had laser pistols, but she forced herself not to think about the consequences. Her own pulse pistol was on a stun setting, but she knew their pistols would kill her should they have the opportunity to hit her. Didn’t matter. Little girls were dying, and she’d sworn to help them. She stopped not more than three meters from where the men stood, straining to hear what they were discussing.

“We’re ready?” the man with short strawberry-blond hair asked. “God, I wanna get this prick.”

The second, a tall man with wavy, brown hair that curled against his neck, patted his pistol. “Damn right, we’ll get him. I need to send the signal for the drop. Keep an eye on things?”

The blond tossed him a curt nod.

Callie pulled up the long sleeve of her robe to check her watch. Only ten minutes before the smugglers were supposed to arrive to buy the drugs. It was now or never. Luck was on her side as the odds turned in her favor. The brunet returned to the ship, walked up the ramp, and disappeared into the cargo hold. The blond folded his arms over his chest, turned his back to her, and leaned his broad shoulder against the ship’s hull. He was obviously watching the dock’s entrance as he hummed to himself. She didn’t recognize the song.

Offering up a quick prayer, she stepped from behind the crate and pulled her pistol through the hole in her robe, trying to control the trembling in her hands. Three quick steps put her behind him, and she pressed the gun against the man’s back. “Don’t move.”

He froze, not even glancing over his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“I want the Ampirica.” Figuring it would be intimidating and perhaps force him to comply, she pressed the barrel of the pistol harder against him. “Now.”

“Not happening,” the man replied, his voice calm despite the danger he was in. “I give you those drugs, I’m a dead man.”

“You don’t give me those drugs, you’re a dead man. Tell your friend to bring me two boxes, or I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

A startled cry slipped out when he suddenly whirled and hit her arm so hard, the pistol went flying from her grasp. The pain was immediate, but she dove for the gun, knowing it was her only chance. The man was faster, kicking it out of the way as he tackled her to the ground. She tried to bring her knee up to connect with his groin, but he pinned her with his heavier weight, his muscular thighs holding hers still.

Green eyes stared into hers, a mixture of anger and curiosity reflected in those emerald pools. “What in the hell are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?”

Callie struggled as she realized this man could easily kill her. She thrashed around in an attempt to get away. He didn’t budge a centimeter, only grinned at her with one of those condescending masculine smiles that made her want to slap him silly. “Let me go!”

“Not yet, my little wildcat. Not until I see who you are.” Holding her wrists with one hand, he lifted them over her head, pinning them to the tarmac. His other hand yanked away her head covering and veil. Her long blonde hair spilled out, partly blocking her vision. He smoothed the tresses away from her face, his fingertips caressing her cheek. “Wow. Not what I expected at all. You’re…pretty.”

“Go fuck yourself.” She tried to drag her wrists out of his grasp as she turned her head.

He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. “I’d rather fuck you.”

So he wasn’t going to kill her—he was going to rape her. She bucked against him, her pelvis pressing against his. The moment she felt the hard length of his cock, she stilled.

“Well, well,” a loud masculine voice called from across the docking platform. “Looks like you’re mixin’ business with pleasure, Hammond.”

The blond—
Hammond
—leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Be quiet. Just do what I tell you so I can keep you safe.”

Safe?
Was he insane? A moment ago he’d been intent upon rape and now…she had no idea what his intentions were.

“What can I say?” he said as he crawled off her and dragged her to her feet. “When a beautiful woman crosses my path, I have to take advantage of my good fortune.”

The new man—the one Callie figured the smugglers had come to meet—who’d been calling to the brunet came lumbering across the tarmac. She was amazed someone could walk with that much weight on his frame. Following close behind the obese, bald man were two other people, one a yellow-skinned Dracorian, the other an albino Tanglion with six arms. Both aimed pulse rifles at Hammond.

“Hey! Carlos!” the brunet smuggler called as he walked down the ramp. His gaze turned to Callie, and his blue eyes widened. “Geesh, Hammond. I leave for a minute, and you’ve already got a hot piece of tail.”

“I am
not
a hot piece of tail,” Callie shot back, leveling a scorching stare at him.

Hammond chuckled. “I think you just insulted yourself, wildcat.” He brushed a kiss on her cheek that sent heat rushing through her traitorous body. “Quiet.
Please
,” he whispered before she pulled away. He tossed a grin at his friend. “What can I say, Spencer? I have a reputation to uphold.”

Spencer turned to Carlos and his henchmen, his handsome face growing hard so quickly, it took her breath away. “Did you bring the money?” His command was harsh, sending a shiver down the length of her spine. This was not a man to be crossed.

“Of course!” Carlos nodded to the Dracorian who handed him the small duffle he carried. Carlos held it against his enormous belly. “I wanna see the Ampirica first.”

Hammond gave his head a stubborn shake. “Uni-credits first. Antibiotics after.”

Narrowing his beady brown eyes, Carlos scowled. “You don’t trust me?”

“Hell, no,” Hammond replied. “You’re a drug dealer.”

Laughter rumbled through the big man. “No wonder you’re such a successful smuggler.” He tossed the duffle to Spencer, who caught it.

After unzipping it and fishing around inside, he nodded at Hammond. “I’ll get the boxes.” Taking a couple of steps toward the ramp, he suddenly stopped and turned back to stare at Callie.

Shit
. For a moment Callie had hoped they’d all forgotten her. She’d even thought about trying to sneak away. Unfortunately, Hammond still had a hold of her. When Spencer cast a glance her way, Hammond draped an arm across her shoulder, hauling her up closer against his side. His gun jabbed painfully into her hip, but she didn’t think now was the time to complain.

“Maybe she oughta go on the ship,” Spencer said, nodding at her and leveling a hard stare at Hammond.

Hammond hesitated, clearly considering some silent message Spencer was sending him. He shifted his gaze between Carlos and Callie. “Good plan,” he finally replied. “Why don’t you go and wait for me? And take off that damned robe. In fact, take everything off and wait in my bed.”

Whirling around, Callie slapped his face. All Hammond did was chuckle, grab her hands, and tug her into his arms. His mouth covered hers, capturing her surprised gasp.

And Lord, did he kiss her. Soft, warm lips caressed hers, and when his tongue slipped into her mouth, she forgot where she was. Heat flooded her body, settling in her pussy, making her squirm against him. What in the hell was wrong with her?

When he tore his mouth away from hers, she tried to follow him with her face and realized she’d threaded her arms around his neck. His arrogant chuckle made her want to slap him again. “Don’t ever do that again!” she warned, laying her palms against his chest and trying to push him away. She might as well have been trying to move a prolobeast.

Hammond quirked an eyebrow as if he’d scented a challenge. Instead of kissing her, he turned her around and gave her an insistent push between the shoulder blades. “Be a good girl and go with Spencer.” He patted her ass. “And I
will
kiss you again later. That’s a promise.”

About to blister his ears, Callie could only cry out in pain when a shot rang across the tarmac, hitting her in the shoulder. Her knees startled to buckle, but before she could collapse, Hammond shoved her to the ground and covered her with his body. When a second shot whizzed by, she grabbed the gun from his hip, pointed it at Carlos as he turned to one of his minions, and blindly squeezed the trigger.

Carlos let out a howl, his hands covering his nose. His men gaped at him as if unsure what to do. “She shot me!” he bellowed through his hands, which were quickly becoming slick with his blood. “She fucking shot me!”

“You shot first! What the hell, Carlos?” Hammond shouted.

“She’s a fucking witness!” he shouted back.

“And you’re a fucking psycho!”

“That whore shot my face!” Carlos pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to his bleeding nose. “Give her to me! Now!”