WarriorsWoman (8 page)

“Aren’t you forgetting the volunteers?”

He frowned at her as if puzzled by her question.

Mentally, she rolled her eyes. “Vilmos told me all the about the volunteer sex workers.”

“I understand. Did he fail to mention the volunteers are pleasure droids?”

“That part must’ve slipped his mind.”

Still hurt over learning she was Batzorg’s assignment rather than his lover, she honed a verbal knife and slid it past his damn metal reinforced ribs. “Is this new mission—the one to make me care—a solo operation or another triad objective?”

For a second, he looked completely destroyed. In a blink, his face resumed his default mask so totally that she wasn’t sure she hadn’t just imagined his pain.

Why would an artificial man have real feelings? But then why would he lie about having emotions?
No matter how she looked at the question of mech feelings, nothing made sense, which was exactly the same way her own, much too human, emotions defied reason.

Take me falling for metal man for example—an obvious dumb move.

Batzorg’s chest ached as if he’d taken an armor-piercing blast. He wanted to howl over his substandard communication skills and the mistakes he’d made that cost him Minka’s trust, starting with letting his desire to be close to her override basic safety and damn near kill her with his crushing weight.

He was a weapons specialist, a leader, excellent at strategy, but he sure as hell was not a diplomat. When he spoke he managed to keep his tone even and stick to the facts. “We are a triad battle unit. Though we each have specialties, there are no individual missions.”

“Three handsome mechs from the future, just for me. How lucky can I get?” She averted her beautiful eyes from him.

Her anger stung like another cyborg blast. “You are upset.”

“What do you understand about anything I feel?” Her shoulders stiffened into right angles.

Definitely upset.

“Mechs are artificial humans, cloned rather than conceived and we have been technologically enhanced to improve our effectiveness in a variety of different mission conditions, but we have free will, the capacity to learn, and our feelings bruise as easily as any man’s.”
Something the founders themselves never seemed to fully understand.

“I don’t want to be a damn triad mission objective.” She scrubbed angrily at her eyes.

He frowned, trying to understand why she was upset. Human women were often incomprehensibly illogical, but he had expected better of his Minka. Choosing his words with upmost care, he slowed his speech for emphasis.” If we had not been sent to rescue you, then I would never have met you, so I cannot regret this mission.”

Careful not to jar her, he cupped the side of her face and exerted the lightest possible pressure. Slowly he angled her head toward him, but her attention stayed stubbornly focused on her lap. “Look at me.”

She raised tear-drenched eyes to his and the ache in his chest worsened. He used the corner of his top to wipe her tears and pleaded, “I will make it better. Please do not cry.”

“You can’t make it better.” She sniffled.

He yanked his fleece off and handed it her. “Mechs achieve impossible objectives as a matter of routine. Tell me what you want.”

“I wanted a normal life. I wanted to teach and paint. Most of all, I wanted to have a family and a man who loved me.” She dabbed at her eyes, blew her nose, and balled his soggy fleece in her small fists, looking at him with a fierce challenge in her beautiful silver eyes. “Can you give me any of those things?”

“Yes, if you are willing to settle for three mechs who cherish you instead of one man, the triad can make your dreams come true.” His promise went far beyond rash, but he would die to make it so.

She shook her head, but did not make a direct response to his optimistic offer. “I shouldn’t be taking out my frustrations on you. None of this is your fault. The pandemic wiped out normal and replaced every survivor’s hopes with an endless nightmare.”

He set aside his disappointment and tried to understand her pain. “You lost your parents, your friends, your students all within a short span of time.”

“Exactly and for months I wished that I’d died with them.” She leaned a small increment closer to him.

He opened the mind link with Vilmos and Lorcan, communicating at the speed of thought as he spoke to Minka.
The cyborgs wouldn’t give up and they will not underestimate her next time. Alone she has no chance of surviving. She needs time to accept us. We can wait as long as she cooperates with the triad’s protective measures. Even if we have to force her cooperation, we cannot let her be captured by those tin cans. To hell with headquarters’ mangled operation.
Minka’s safety comes first.

Lorcan snorted.
Damn straight, the scrap metal rejects want her blood and they’re not fussy about how they get it.

Agreed,
Vilmos added,
she doesn’t understand how ruthless the cyborgs are in pursuit of a target. The future of the human race depends on her survival.

Who knows how much we’ve already screwed up the future? No matter what, the triad has to keep her safe,
Lorcan agreed with an uncharacteristic seriousness.

Protect and serve.
Batzorg closed the link with the mech motto and focused on Minka.

“Despite great loss and hardship, you did not quit. You kept going. When your car broke down, you continued on foot, staying off the highways patrolled by roving gangs of survivors.”

Minka met his gaze with reddened eyes and a pink nose. She was still the most beautiful woman in this world or any other.

“You’re right, but how did you know about the gangs?”

“I have studied every account of your life I could locate since I learned to read.”

“I’m that famous?”

“You are that special.”

“Why?”

He gathered her hands and squeezed them lightly before leaning in until his forehead rested against hers. “I fell in love with your determination, courage and honor long before I met you. I am frequently overbearing and demanding, but if you want me I am yours. Vilmos and Lorcan feel the same way. Give us a chance.”

He held his breath as he waited for her reply.

“I don’t know what to say.” Her voice caught.

He disregarded his own fears for her safety, leaning away enough to meet her eyes. “You do not need to say or do anything. If you do not want intimacy with the triad nothing will happen. None of us would ever hurt you. Please give us a chance to protect and serve you.”

Keeping his hands off her would kill him, but her well-being and happiness were more important than anything else, even the triad. He closed the gap between them, pressing her lips softly with his until she sighed and her mouth parted, welcoming his invasion.

A few seconds later, she pulled back and he ended the kiss.

“You made me a really generous offer and obviously I’m attracted to you.” She blushed. “I-I still need time to think.”

“As long as you let us stay and keep you safe then you can have as much time as you need.”

“Of course you can stay.” She squeezed his hands.

Lightheaded with relief that she would cooperate with their protection measures, he exhaled the breath he’d unconsciously held, drew in fresh air, and placed a tender kiss across her soft knuckles. “Excellent. The first task is to change the bed.”

She glanced at the rumpled king-sized bed. “Exactly what are you going to change?”

“The frame is not built for mechs.” Gathering the quilt, he wrapped the cover around her securely, pulled the ladder-back chair closer to the fire, and settled her on the cozy seat.

He crossed to the door and let in Vilmos, Lorcan and Nigel.

The cat scooted straight for Minka, hopped on her lap, circled twice, and curled into a circle of purring black fur.

The triad coordinated efforts without communicating. Lorcan set the helmet he’d brought in with him on Batzorg’s stack of armor then stripped the bed. Vilmos carried the tub to the bathroom, emptied it, and returned to gather the towels. Batzorg folded bedding, hung up clothes and lifted the mattress. Lorcan grabbed the box springs and Vilmos produced a screwdriver to disassemble the wooden frame. Soon the sections had been moved to the blank wall. The new frameless, and much safer, bed was reassembled and remade on the floor.

Lorcan fluffed the last pillow and straightened. “Need us for anything else?”

“No,” Batzorg said firmly.

“Wait.” Minka scooped Nigel off her lap and stood, clutching the quilt. “Where are you and Vilmos sleeping?”

Without thinking about it, Batzorg removed the chair and stood behind her, pulling her in nice and snug against him. Once her ass cradled his throbbing erection, his need to protect her from any possible discomfort was satisfied and his contentment increased to an acceptable range.

Lorcan shrugged. “The front room.”

“Is there a fire?”

“No,” Vilmos answered.

“Blankets?”

Lorcan shook his head. “None.”

Thrilled by Minka’s implicit acceptance of him wrapped around her slim curves and his heavy metal body in her bed, Batzorg still frowned at the direction the conversation had taken. He knew she was too generous and softhearted to leave the other two mechs out in the cold.

If he mentioned the mech’s capacity to regulate their body temperature he would appear churlish, but he was not sure he was ready to share her, even with the rest of the triad.

His impulsive promise to Minka that she choose who she wanted to make love with came back to haunt him, bringing regret for his lack of foresight and patience. He clenched his jaw to keep his objections silent and hoped she did not change her mind about including him.

“Then you’re both staying here.” Minka held up a slender hand. “Don’t bother arguing. It’s freezing outside and this is the only heated space. I’m not going to let you two suffer in the cold when there’s plenty of room for all of us.”

Vilmos and Lorcan lapped up her kindness with the same level of eagerness Nigel displayed consuming tuna. Though Batzorg resented sharing her, he could not blame the rest of the triad. How could he? His own possessiveness of Minka was equal to or more than theirs.

“Are you sure you are all right with Vilmos and Lorcan joining us?” Batzorg whispered, tightening his hold around Minka’s slender torso and nibbling on the smooth skin below her ear as the triad waited for her answer.

Chapter Five

Minka leaned into Batzorg’s solid presence and soaked up his heat the same way a damp sable paintbrush absorbs a color charge. His insanity had to be contagious craziness, because she actually trusted him to anchor her—to keep her safe. She wet her parched lips with quick darts of her tongue.

“Actually, I think I am okay with doc and the big guy joining us.” She gave them all a shaky smile, still searching for her inner wild child. “I’m still a little nervous. I’ve never done anything like this…”

“None of us would ever hurt you, little one. The only thing you need to do is tell us if you are uncomfortable with anything that happens. I promise if you say stop, then we stop.”

“Of course,”
Vilmos agreed.

Lorcan added his approval. “Damn straight we will.”

They were all so sure, so solid, and so sexy that she wanted to pinch herself to be sure this wasn’t a dream. She turned in Batzorg’s embrace, wrapped her arms around his thick neck, and stretched up to press a kiss to his firm lips.

He made the stretch easy by lifting her until their mouths aligned perfectly. Then he brushed across her lips with his. Slowly, tenderly, he placed tiny sipping kisses along the edge of her smile until she was panting for more. She melted against his hard body, parting her lips to tempt him inside, and shivering with arousal.

His kisses drifted across her cheek. “Are you cold?”

More like on fire, wriggling closer to the thick erection that was a few inches north of where she wanted it. She squeaked out, “No.”

Hot breath teased the sensitive shell of her ear as he whispered, “Good.”

He changed his hold on her, sliding first one arm and then the other under the blanket.

Doc was there instantly, peeling away the quilt. He paused, grinned and brushed a kiss across her still tingling lips.

The fleeting caress woke the wild vixen inside—the same wanton hussy who wanted all three sexy mechs. She held his manly jaw in place and deepened the kiss.

Whoa, doc tasted sweet and spicy and totally yummy. She shivered again, still not from cold.

Warm hands cupped her bottom. Lorcan’s chest pressed against her spine, hard, hot and naked. Turning to face him, she framed his gorgeous face and pressed her lips to his.

Lorcan took charge and she softened against his invasion. He plundered her mouth as if it belonged to him then kissed the breath out of her.

She loved it.

When he released her and turned her again to nestle her backside against his front, Batzorg reclaimed his place. Sandwiched between the two heavy metal hunks, she peeked through her lashes over champ’s broad shoulder and saw doc, folding the last of his armor. He added another stack to the pair already by the closet and turned. A huge erection thrummed against his corrugated abs as he moved toward her.

Before she had a chance to get nervous all over again, Batzorg captured her mouth in a mind-erasing kiss. Lost in the intoxication of his scent, his flavor and his power, she barely registered another pair of warm hands pulling her stretchy top high enough to bare her breasts. Someone else skimmed her long john bottoms from her legs. All three mechs lavished her with careful, gentle, almost reverent touches.

Finally, Batzorg ended the kiss and she opened her eyes to Vilmos’ heated stare.

“Lift your arms for me, dear.”

She couldn’t think of a single reason not to cooperate. Of course she couldn’t think about much beyond how wonderful their hard bodies felt. She unwound her arms from Batzorg’s neck and held them aloft. Vilmos pulled her knit top over her head. He stepped away, quickly folded the material into a square, and tucked it into a dresser drawer. In seconds, he returned to smooth one of her unruly curls behind her ear with such tenderness she melted a little more.