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“But I want you to fight against me next time. Can you do that, Lucca?”
“Keep doing t-that,” she said, words broken with each maddening stroke, “and—I’ll do—anything you want.” He stroked her hard enough to send lightning through her bloodstream.
Hard. Harder.Harder.
Shesqueakeda sound she’d never heard come out of her in her life, and he continued going.
The ship shook to its foundation as the pressure crashing through her senses peaked. The thunderous turbulence was an added bonus. She cried out, poised to climax on the hand she was furiously riding, sinking against the slippery wall.
Suddenly he went alert and perturbed, eyes no longer seeing her. Something was terribly wrong.
And the ship began to truly tremble.
Caligher slipped his hand out, a look of reluctant alarm crossing his face. “Get dressed,” he said quietly, stopping the shower.
Shaking off the fugue that had entranced her, she followed him. Her clothes were soaking wet and the ship shook violently.
The cabin pressure sounded… off. Teeth-rattling vibrations pulsed down the frame as they slipped into the hall.
They reached the cockpit to discover they were under attack.
* * *
“They shot the ship,” Caligher reported mildly. “We have a leak through multiple rooms.”
Lucca was mesmerized by how calm she was.
Air hissed out slowly from the starboard side of the Selkie. Another well-aimed strike and the wall could crumble off like clay. She should have been pissing herself. But with true fear came focus, and she became a better version of herself.
“What do we do?” she asked as she took her chair, all business.
“We outfly them,” he said simply, steering the Selkie evasively like he could do it in his sleep. The faster they flew, the more air they lost. She was endlessly grateful for the magical air bubble that kept them alive. But even that could fail if they lost enough of the ship.
Caligher wasn’t freaking out and neither was she. They could do this.
“Who are they?” she asked. Her fingers worked on auto-pilot. Lucca was part of the Selkie, its systems an extension of her.
His eyes were trained on the ship in the rear camera view. “Fighter ship. Probably not pirates.” There was an edge to his tone that grabbed her attention. “It could have something to do with me skinning that guy.”
“Wonderful,” she sighed.
Arguing with Caligher over the problem he’d created would only get them killed, so she kept her opinions to herself. It wasn’t the time.
“Can we cloak?” she asked.
“You know how to do it.”
“I’m on it.” She got to work as he dodged. Sure, they had guns now, but they were intended for preemptive, carefully aimed strikes.
New alarms blared on the system status screen. Someone had boarded the Selkie.
“Who the fuck—” she asked.
Caligher swore. “Take the helm, Lucca. Lose them.” With that, he slipped out of the cockpit.
She was left multitasking for her life—evading hard strikes that could rip them in two—watching the cameras—fumbling with the gravity drive in an attempt to hide them.
She contained their uninvited guest with doors, providing support to Caligher from her birds-eye view. That rhythmic thrill of playing a game pervaded her.
