Choosing Chuckles Read online

  “He has pigment on his lips?” The dad asked his friend.

  “He has pigment on his lips and sparkle all over his face.” Duggar expanded on his untruths. “He’s so brightly colored, even you could see him, you disagreeable fossil.”

  The friend was relaying a message. Chuckles delved his fingers into his female’s lip pigment and smeared the sticky substance all over his face.

  “That’s not how you apply it, sir.” His female took the container from him.

  He flung sparkle at himself. Some of it stuck to the lip pigment. Some of it fluttered to the floor.

  “You’re using it all up.” She commandeered that container also.

  “Move out of the way.” Her dad hollered. “Let me see my new son.”

  His new son? Chuckles’ processors spun.

  “Dad, it’s too soon for that.” His female wiggled, her tantalizing motions sending breeding messages to Chuckles’ cock, distracting him from her dad’s words. “We haven’t known each other for very long.”

  “He’s the first male you’ve introduced us to.” The dad’s ear-to-ear smile was so much like his daughter’s, Chuckles was forced to like him…a little. “I know he’s special to you, Bett Bits.”

  “I didn’t have a choice about introducing him to you.” She muttered those words. “He insisted. That doesn’t mean he’s special to me.”

  Chuckles recognized her reply for what it was—another one of her lies. Her dad’s vision system was malfunctioning. She didn’t have to mention his presence, claim him verbally as hers.

  She wanted to do that. His chest warmed.

  “Your daughter is special to me, sir.” He paused, not knowing what to say. “I have been ensuring she consumes sufficient nourishment bars every planet rotation so she doesn’t damage herself.”

  “Nourishment bars lack flavor.” Duggar made that comment from his position offscreen. “When she brings you home, I’ll teach you how to fabricate better nourishment for her.”

  The friend, a dreaded human, not only didn’t hate him, he planned to improve Chuckles’ female-caring skills.

  He stared at the viewscreen, unable to apply logic to the situation.

  “Some of the miners were once warriors…back in their youth.” The dad abruptly switched topics. “You sound like them, son.”

  Son. That one word communicated acceptance, caring.

  “Chuckles is a warrior, Dad.” Bettina answered for him, linking her fingers with his. “His current role is protecting me.”

  “You need protecting, Bett Bits.” The dad nodded, communicating his approval of Chuckles’ role. “My daughter sometimes attracts the wrong sorts of beings.”

  The dad would consider him to be the wrong sort of being. “No one will damage her, sir. I would die before I allowed that to happen.”

  His female’s breath hitched. Did she not know that? His lifespan was hers.

  “I like this male.” Duggar knew who…what he was, yet continued to support him. That earned the human Chuckles’ gratitude.

  “Tell me about yourself, son.” The dad gazed unseeingly in his direction.

  What could he communicate? Chuckles evaluated the specs about himself.

  He hated all humans except for his own female, Captain’s female, and two illogically accepting-of-him miners. Most of his lifespan had been spent killing other beings in the most gruesome, violent ways. He had also captured the male’s daughter; breeding with her four, five, six times a planet rotation and spanking her lush ass whenever she misbehaved…which was often.

  That summary wouldn’t endear him to the dad. He scanned his databases for a more appropriate reply. There weren’t many options. Civil cyborg conversations with parents were rare. Most encounters were hostile.

  Which this encounter would become if he didn’t speak soon. Tension crept across Chuckles’ shoulders. His processors remained devoid of acceptable data about himself.

  “You must have seen some interesting rocks during your travels as a warrior.” The dad supplied a safe topic of conversation.

  Rocks, he could talk about. “On Geminorum X, I once saw a cluster of purple silicate minerals the size of your daughter’s clenched fist, in a tunnel dug under the planet’s surface.”

  “It must have been pretty.” His female smiled.

  Chuckles nodded. “You would have liked it.” He didn’t mention that it had been splattered with the blood and brains of one of the local rebels, the cluster of silicate minerals having been used by his cyborg brethren as a weapon.

  “How deep was that tunnel?” Her dad leaned forward.

  Chuckles relayed the depth. They discussed tunnel construction.

  He shared more details about the solid aggregates of minerals and mineraloids he’d seen, naming them, describing their appearances, where they were found, the planet, the terrain, the depth.

  Before meeting his female, petrology hadn’t been an area of interest for him, but cyborgs stored every aspect of every situation in their databases. Recalling the rocks’ specs wasn’t an exertion for him and it seemed to excite his female’s dad.

  The human shared his recollections of rocks he’d uncovered, all of them found on Pegasi Alpha. Duggar contributed his knowledge to the conversation, aiding the dad’s malfunctioning databases.

  Chuckles now understood where his female got her love for the stones she crafted into decoration. The crystals and gemstones and other pieces were a link to her dad and her dad’s friend.

  When the discussion slowed, she’d pick up a rock and describe it. Her dad would become animated again and supply more memories he’d recalled. She would listen to him with softness in her big beautiful blue eyes.

  It was how she sometimes looked at him. Chuckles rested his chin between two gatherings of curls on the top of her head.

  The conversation flowed around him.

  The two males finally ran out of stories and ended the communication with an invitation to their shared domicile. Both of them were eager to see their Bett Bits again and to meet Chuckles.

  He had been invited home. Chuckles stared at the main viewscreen, at the tiny image of Vega R. The humans had not only accepted him, they wanted him to visit their domicile, meet their mining brethren.

  “Are you okay, sir?” His female peered up at him, her expression sweetly concerned. “You’re not freaking out because my dad called you son, are you?”

  “Cyborgs don’t freak out.” Chuckles frowned at her. “We’re logical beings.”

  She studied him. “I researched your kind. I know cyborgs don’t have parents.”

  “Some of my brethren have found their females and manufactured offspring.” He splayed his fingers over his female’s stomach, hoping some planet rotation in the future to be as fortunate as those warriors. “They are parents and their cyborg offspring have parents.”

  “You didn’t have parents, sir.” She clarified her statement.

  “That’s true. I was genetically engineered by the Humanoid Alliance, and manufactured in a vat.” He had source donors but that’s all they were, their input manipulated. “I don’t have any beings humans would classify as parents.”

  Why would that lack cause his female emotional damage? Chuckles processed the situation.

  “Are you questioning if I’m worthy of the role your dad has assigned me?” His frown deepened. “Do you believe my lack of experience will cause me to malfunction as a son?”

  “No, sir.” She straightened. “I—”

  “You are disrespecting your sir with that processing.” He would be worthy of the honor bestowed upon him. “I will increase my knowledge of rocks. I will protect you. I will learn to fabricate nourishment. I will don pigment so your dad can see me with his damaged vision system. I will be the best son any human male has ever had.”

  “You’re still wearing that pigment.” His female said that under her breath. “You look very pretty, sir.” Her lips twitched.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I can hea
r you, baby.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes rounded. “You will be the best son, sir.” She clearly sought to distract him by addressing the previous topic. “I have no doubt about that.”

  Her tactic wouldn’t be effective.

  “I have doubts about your honesty.” He forced himself to be stern with her. “Remove your garments.” They both had to release excess energy. “Your words have earned you a reprimand.”

  “Yes.” She jumped off his lap, her eagerness communicating how ineffective his reprimands had been.

  That would change this planet rotation. He flexed his fingers. “I’m displeased with your lack of trust in me, baby.”

  Her smile wavered. “I didn’t doubt you’d be a good son, sir.” She removed her boots. “I was worried my dad had given you a role you didn’t yet want. We haven’t known each other for very long.”

  “That’s illogical.” He shook his head, his female’s processes inconsistent. “The duration of knowing you isn’t a relevant input, and your dad is a good being. Any male would want to be assigned the role of his son. It’s a great honor.”

  His female gazed at him. An alarming sheen of moisture covered her eyes. “Only you would view that as a great honor, sir.”

  That was untrue. All of his brethren would battle for the role.

  “You continue to wear garments.” Chuckles reminded his female of her state. He needed to touch her, to warm that generous ass of hers with his palms.

  “Sorry, sir.” She rushed to remove her flight suit, revealing endless curves, gleaming pale skin, pink nipples, and brightly colored private curls.

  His cock pressed against the constraints of his body armor. “Come here.” He patted his thighs.

  “You’re wearing garments, sir.” She lowered her form over his thighs.

  “You don’t deserve my bare skin.” He ran his hands over her back, savoring her softness, her beauty. “You’ve been a bad, bad female.”

  “I have been bad.” Her tone lacked repentance. “You’re so hard against me, sir.” She rubbed against the bulge in his body armor.

  “Behave.” He smacked her right ass cheek.

  She jerked, stiffening and then relaxing. “That feels so good, sir.”

  “This is a reprimand.” He reminded her. “It will soon feel so bad.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Her voice was dreamy.

  She was a menace. He shook his head and applied himself to his task, much to the delight of his illogical little human.

  Chapter Ten

  Bettina was fucked. In more ways than one.

  The next planet rotation, she was draped over the bridge’s console, completely naked, her arms stretched upward, her tied hands above her head. Her cyborg pounded into her, smacking her ass against the hard surface, slapping his equally unrelenting chest against her breasts, the combination driving her wild.

  If she looked behind her, she’d see the image of Vega R looming large on the main viewscreen. It was a reminder that this would be their last fuck…for a while.

  Perhaps forever.

  Soon, she would have to stun her sexy sir and return him to his chamber. He’d be angry, would have a right to be that way. Her treachery might kill all of his caring for her.

  She didn’t want to take that risk, didn’t want to part with him, even temporarily. But the alternative was betraying Smarts and letting down the team. That female had saved her from a desperate situation, was a friend.

  The future would bring pain. All she could do was enjoy the moment, savor her cyborg’s rough handling of her appreciative form.

  A moan escaped her lips. He was reshaping her body, making her exclusively his. His cockhead pressed against her pussy walls, the fit enticingly snug. Every thrust forward filled her. Every withdrawal left her empty and needy.

  She panted, hitching her hips upward. That action pulled a growl from her sir’s throat and he took her harder, faster, spiraling her need to thought-demolishing levels. Her worries, her plans, faded away, scorched by the blue energy blazing in Chuckles’ eyes.

  He was her master, her sir, her world, the male she’d subconsciously been searching for, the rescuer she would allow to win her, to keep her permanently.

  If they survived their separation. If he could forgive her deceit.

  There were too many ifs.

  Her heart ached. She arched her back as they crashed together and fell apart, her passion edged with desperation.

  “Hurts so good.” The sting pushed her closer to completion, and she deserved that pain. “More, sir.” She bounced her heels against his ass. “Give me more.”

  “Behave.” He drove into her with such force her head spun.

  A wild recklessness swept over her. She kicked him again, silently provoking her dominant male, asking to be reprimanded.

  He grunted, owning her with each thrust, imprinting his body on hers, nudging her toward the abyss. Passion wrapped around her chest tighter and tighter.

  She struggled to breathe, to think, to be. Her entire form heated and ached and sang from his sweet abuse. She wouldn’t last, didn’t want to tumble into the darkness alone.

  Her sir would be angry with her if she instigated his release. He preferred to be in control. That would warrant another punishment, one more smack on the ass before they parted.

  That was more reward than reprimand.

  Decided, she waited until he stuffed her with his thick, long cock. Then she clenched down on him. Hard.

  Bolts of light flashed in his eyes. He howled, pushed deeper, exploded as only he could. Hot cyborg cum hit her inner walls, the force of his release stealing her breath, the bubbling of his nanocybotics delivering an ecstasy beyond comprehension.

  She screamed, twisting, shaking, fighting to be freed. He lowered his muscular physique, restricting her movements, capturing her. His hands covered hers as they became one. He forced her to remain still, to take every last delectable drop of his essence.

  And she loved it, gyrating under him, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing his cock. The bridge spun around her. Sound rushed in her ears. She fell for several moments before she reached emotional solid ground, and when she found it, he was there, holding her, hot and heavy on top of her.

  “So good, sir,” she murmured, pressing her lips against his skin, tasting salt and metal and him.

  “You will be the death of me, baby.” He fell back into the captain’s chair, taking her with him.

  She landed on his lap. He propped his left foot up.

  “Did I damage you, sir?” She asked him the question he usually asked of her. He had been standing. The fuck must have hurt his knee.

  “It’s good damage.” Her cyborg gave her the answer she usually gave him. He pulled her closer to him, untied her hands, kissed the red marks on her wrists. “Like this.”

  She smiled at him. “I love it when you tie me up, sir.”

  “You are impossible.” He tucked her head under his chin.

  His chest rose and fell against her. His warmth engulfed her. She was safe in his arms, cossetted, cared for.

  Leaving his protection held no appeal to her. She blew out her breath. Maybe if she explained the situation, he would allow her to return the ship, arrange a means to pick her up from the rendezvous site.

  They would still have to part, but she wouldn’t have to deceive him.

  “I have to bring the ship back, sir.” She splayed her fingers over his skin, wanting to touch as much of him as possible as long as she possibly could. “I owe that to Smarts and to the rest of the team.”

  “You don’t owe them anything.” He snorted. “They placed you on that shuttle craft to face larger, stronger beings alone. They used you as bait.”

  “I had to be alone, sir.” She looked up at him. “If lifeform scans had picked up more than one being, you would have changed your mind about rescuing me.” It hadn’t been a rescue. It had been a trap. She winced at that past deception. “The others would have done the same thing.�
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  “I wouldn’t have changed my mind, baby.” He met her gaze, his eyes the brightest blue. “I would have rescued you if there had been one hundred beings on board that shuttle craft.”

  “Oh.” She blinked. He’d been that determined to meet with her?

  Fuck. That was sexy. She wiggled.

  He clamped his hands down on her hips, forcing her to remain still. “But yes, the other males might have reconsidered their decision, looked for easier prey.”

  Her chin lifted. “Then you admit it, sir, I had to be alone.”

  “I’ll admit to that if you will admit they put you in peril.” His handsome face darkened. “You could have been killed.”

  That had been a possibility. “If I follow Smarts’ instructions, the danger to me is limited.”

  “The danger to you was limited.” He corrected her. “Past tense. Because you’ll never be put in that situation again. And you don’t follow instructions. Ever. You’re a bad, bad female.”

  She was his bad, bad female. “You’re the only being who tempted me to break Smarts’ rules, sir.” She flirtatiously fluttered her eyelashes at him. “She was very angry with me for that.”

  “I was very angry with you for that.” He kissed her forehead, that gentle action belying his harsh words. “You need someone to protect you from yourself.”

  “I do.” She nodded, wanting him to be that someone. “Smarts installed safety measures like the button I was supposed to push when the procurement being arrived. I didn’t push it with you.” She’d been distracted by his kiss. “Which was why Keeper showed up unexpectedly.”

  “You could have been killed in the duration it took the Dracheon to arrive.” His jaw clenched. “Your Smarts knows that.”

  “Every role has risks.” She shrugged. “Smarts was open about the role when I took it. It was better than the three roles I was juggling to try to merely cover expenses.”

  “Those three roles were safer.” He must have uncovered her background. Her cyborg didn’t appear surprised about her former life.

  “They weren’t safer, sir.” She shook her head. “I had to move to a large settlement to find roles.” There weren’t any roles close to her dad’s home. “I was alone and scared, and living in the worst domicile in the worst area.”