“Why, you basta—,” Rivers heard her growl.
“NO!” Both he and Seven yelled simultaneously. They saw the flash of gun barrels rising. Rivers never heard the sound of the weapons discharging, the phtewww, phtewww! of the pulse rifles or the high-pitched whine of his own gun. He hadn’t even realized he was firing. It came instinctively, a reflex created by brutal combat.
He also didn’t realize he’d been hit until he was falling to the ground. Suddenly, his rifle was no longer in his hands, probably because he no longer had a right arm to hold it with. The sound was back now, filling his ears as the shock wore off. He heard Dailey grunt and then cry out pitifully. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the shadow of her body falling.
And then he was on his back, looking skyward. Out of his vision, someone was shouting.
“What the fuck, Three? You lost your goddamned mind?”
The man called Three stepped into his vision, standing above him, looking down, face impassive, like a hunter surveying his kill. He looked back at what Rivers assumed was the unseen voice and shrugged.
“She was provokin’ me.”
“You didn’t have to kill ‘em!” Seven was beside himself. These assholes were unbelievable. Human life meant nothing to them. “Fuckin’ ass wipe!”
Five knelt beside the charred and smoking Dailey and checked the telemetry readout on her wrist. He looked up at Three and shook his head.
“Looks like we just killed one.”
Three continued to stare down at Rivers as if trying to determine his fate. At his feet, Robbie coughed, and blood filled his mouth. His right shoulder, or what was left of it, was burning now. There was Lunarol in the patrol craft.
If he could just get to it …
“Her Vita-Lert has gone off.” Five raised the women’s wrist, showing Three the blinking red light that indicated her telemetry had detected no vital signs and had alerted Redstone Tactical’s Operations Center. That meant backup would be scrambled to investigate.
“Alright,” Three looked around, “we can assume we’ll have company here shortly.”
“Gee, ya think, genius?” Seven asked sarcastically.
Three ignored him, “Mount back up! We got no time to waste.”
“What about him?” Five pointed to Rivers, who now lay moaning softly, writhing in ever-increasing pain.
“He can consider himself lucky, I guess. He came out better than his bitch partner,” Three sneered, a smug smile of satisfaction on his face while he gave Dailey’s corpse one last glance. “His backup’ll be here soon. They’ll keep busy tending to him.”
Suddenly, it made sense to Seven. Five was leaving Rivers alive and hurting intentionally, to stall any pursuit or interference. It was cold … but it made sense.
It was something he would’ve never thought of before today. As he climbed back aboard the AC, he wondered if one day, he’d be as coldly efficient as that.
***
Lulah and Amber slept until almost eight, exhausted from hours of passion and desire too long restrained. It’d been the second consecutive night of little sleep and lots of erotic adventure for Lulah. She was covered in dried sweat, and the strips of hair under her arms were sticky and heady, her deodorant giving up several hours back. She ran a hand down between her legs and found her inner thighs and crotch still coated with a delightful mixture of herself and Amber. Lazily, she dipped a finger down inside her, stirring the still-simmering cauldron of passion. She moaned contentedly as her eyes closed, her long, womanly body writhing at the digital intrusion.
God, how she’d missed fucking! She hadn’t realized just how much. She’d never allowed herself to dwell on it, purposely throwing herself into her duties as a mother after the divorce and the affair with Cutter. Maybe it was a way of punishing herself for her transgressions with the gangster, a self-imposed penance of some sort. Perhaps she just needed to get back to what was important. She’d lost sight of that and needed to refocus. And it was sooo hard to focus when all you could think about was cock.
She rolled her head to the side to take in Amber. Passed out from sheer exhaustion, she hadn’t even made it underneath the sheets. She simply lay at a slight angle across the bed. She was sleeping on her belly, legs still spread wide, as they’d seemed to have been the whole night. Her bushy tail lay across her back, exposing that exquisite ass. The vixen’s face was turned away so that all Lulah could see was an unkempt mop of hair. Her arms lay to each side, pointing downward with her palms up, another sign she’d simply succumbed to fatigue.
Lulah slipped off the bed, trying to make as little movement as possible. Let the girl sleep. She’s earned it. The rubbery feeling in Lulah’s legs, her raw nipples, the soreness of her lips from hours of kissing, the sensitivity of her clit … all attested to that. She’d forgotten what it was like to be with a woman. It reminded her of the track team in high school. Tiger and Cutter were like sprinters, going hard and giving everything they had for an hour or so, exhausting both them and her. Being with Amber or Buttercup had been like a relay race. When one got finished, the other simply took over and everything started anew, an endless erotic cycle of need and gratification.
She needed a hot shower badly, but before she washed all the delicious stickiness away, a strong cup of coffee was in order. She picked her t-shirt up off the floor and pulled it over her head. She grudgingly stepped into the pair of panties lying nearby. She didn’t want to put them on. For the first time in years, she was in a naughty mood, and the thought of walking around the house butt-ass naked excited her. But alas, she wasn’t a twenty-year-old single girl without a care in Sol, sharing a pussy palace with another girl
