Choosing Chuckles Page 17

  Seeking to draw him away from the furry beings, she shifted slightly to the right. Her cyborg was somewhere amongst the trees. Her movement also brought her closer to him. That felt good. It felt right.

  Unlike her planned distraction. That felt wrong, very, very wrong.

  But luring males with her curvy form, tempting them into discarding logic, was what she did best. She’d be a fool not to use that skill now, with her lifespan, the furry beings’ lifespans, possibly her cyborg’s lifespan, at risk.

  “Do you want to see my body?” She ran her hands over her leather-clad breasts, down her form to—

  “Keep your hands away from your pockets, slut.” Dusta saw through that trick.

  Because he wasn’t yet distracted enough by her curves. She took another step to the right, raised her hands and rolled her shoulders. The flight suit fell to her waist. Warm moisture-laden air swept over her bare skin.

  “Do you like what you see?” Bile rose in her throat as she squeezed her breasts together, playing the seductress for yet another predator.

  This would be the last time she did that. And the act was necessary to save her life, the lives of the beings she cared about.

  “I’m going to carve my name into those big tits of yours.” Dusta leered at her, his eyes bright with an evil she’d seen in many of the males’ faces.

  She hadn’t seen it in her cyborg’s handsome countenance, however. Chuckles gazed at her with reverence, with admiration, with caring.

  Stars. She loved him.

  Gaining the opportunity to tell her sir how she felt gave her yet another reason to escape Dusta, to tolerate his visual and verbal abuse, to endure.

  “You’re going to carve your name into my breasts?” She swiveled her hips, moving once again to the right. “That sounds…” Insane. Violent. Horrid. “Interesting.”

  “I’ll make you scream with pain, slut.” The male’s lips curled upward. “You’ll beg me for mercy.”

  She could reach for her gun. He might shoot her. The weapon was deep in her pocket. But at least the pain and torture would be minimized. It would be a quick death.

  Or she could negotiate for more time. “What else will you do to me?” She took one more step.

  A shimmer of awareness rushed over her, a connection she only felt with one being. Her nipples tightened. Her pussy grew wet.

  Her cyborg had arrived.

  “I’ll fuck you with a dagger.” Dusta was unaware of the newcomer, his fantasies curdling her stomach. “Shove it right up your big ass.”

  “Up this ass?” She turned sideways, taking that opportunity to move again. There was a flash of gray skin to her right, a glimpse of Chuckles amidst the vegetation. Then he disappeared.

  She was positioned between her sir and their enemy. Dusta, once he was aware of Chuckles’ presence, would grab her, draw her in front of him, use her as a living shield. That would thwart her cyborg’s attack, hamper his rescue efforts.

  She had to take herself out of the human’s reach. Quickly. Before he could react and shoot her.

  To do that, she had to first lower Dusta’s guard, make him view her as being no threat to him. The easiest way to accomplish that was the same technique Smarts derived to decrease the predators’ risk levels.

  Bettina gritted her teeth and wiggled out of her flight suit. Her body heated with embarrassment. There was a huge difference between being partially naked and completely bare.

  She felt vulnerable and exposed. The only condolence was the human male who was now gaping at her would soon be dead.

  Her cyborg would kill him.

  “Your cunt hair is blue and pink too.” Dusta sniggered. “You’re a real slut, aren’t you?”

  The words hurt her as he intended them to do but she didn’t allow that to show, keeping a smile plastered on her face.

  “You like that about me.” Her giggle sounded semi-hysterical even to her ears. She removed her boots, kicked them and her flight suit toward the human.

  A growl rumbled behind her. Her cyborg wasn’t pleased with her act.

  “What?” She lifted her gaze above Dusta’s head. “I can’t hear you.”

  “Who are you talking to?” The male, no longer concerned she was a threat, glanced over his shoulder.

  She rushed toward her cyborg, knowing she wouldn’t reach him.

  Her right foot brushed against a stretch of braided vines. A loop tightened around her ankles, binding them together. She flew feet-first into the air, the propulsion jarring her entire form.

  “You slut.” Dusta raised his long gun, aiming it at her.

  The braided vines had some give in them. She bounced up and down, the movement jerking her body painfully and unsettling her stomach. Her ankles burned from the makeshift rope.

  Two shots rang out. The male dropped his weapon, shrieking. Blood spurted from his hands. “You said the machine left, slut.”

  “He’s back.” She pressed her lips together, trying not to vomit.

  “Baby, are you damaged?” Chuckles stalked toward Dusta.

  “No, sir.” She battled her unruly stomach as she swung back and forth, hanging upside down.

  Her cyborg passed her location, guns in both of his hands. She took one look at the back of him, at the tattered flesh, his silver frame, torn skin, and she lost her fight. The contents of her stomach spewed from her lips, raining down on the vegetation on the ground. The repulsive smell wafted upward.

  “You earned a reprimand with that lie, female.” Chuckles shot the retreating Dusta in the calves.

  The human fell face-first, attempted to crawl away. Her cyborg holstered his guns, grabbed the male’s boots and dragged him closer to her.

  Leader, the head of the furry beings, swung on a branch close to her. The male gazed at her with open curiosity and some humor.

  She tried to cover up her bare breasts and her mons with her hands. The furry beings didn’t wear garments. Leader likely didn’t care about her nudity.

  But she did, and she would have to face them after this ordeal was over.

  “Furless being.” Leader chattered. The rest of his communication utilized words in his language she didn’t understand.

  Chuckles responded in the same language. She couldn’t decipher anything he said.

  “You should gaze at a tree trunk, baby.” Her cyborg advised her. “The furry beings plan to kill the human you trapped and I plan to kill this human.”

  “I’m watching the ending of both of those lifespans, sir.” Even if it caused her to vomit again. “The human we trapped killed Blue Eyes.” That grief hadn’t left her. “She did nothing to him.”

  “And that death damaged your emotional system.” Her sir’s tone was grim. “You’ve earned two reprimands for lying to me about not being damaged.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She needed to be punished for not saving her friend.

  She also yearned for the expulsion of feelings that would accompany those reprimands. Her pain, her sorrow, her anger was too acute to be kept inside her. It ate at her.

  “You’re a bad, bad female.” Her cyborg shook his head, flipping Dusta until he faced upward.

  That action reassured her. If Chuckles was dying from the frame-deep wounds on his back, he wouldn’t be handling a grown human male as though he weighed nothing.

  “Kill me, machine.” Dusta ordered her cyborg. “That’s what you were manufactured to do, isn’t it?”

  “I was manufactured to kill quickly.” Chuckles extracted daggers from their sheaths on what remained of his body armor. “The ability to torture, to inflict pain for long durations of time was taught to me by humans like you.”

  “Get away from me.” Dusta scrambled backward.

  Her cyborg drove the daggers through his prey’s booted feet, pinning them to the ground. The male screamed.

  “You shouldn’t have followed us, human.” Chuckles drew two more daggers. “I gave my female my vow I wouldn’t kill you on the ship.” Light reflected off his
blades. “We’re no longer on that ship.”

  He sliced through the male’s cheeks. Bettina saw bone. Blood spurted. Dusta screeched. Her stomach heaved.

  “You boasted of holding one of my brethren’s heart in your hands.” Chuckles’ voice was flat, scrubbed clean of all emotion. “A human’s heart is smaller but more easily accessible.”

  He cut through Dusta’s chest. Metal rang against bone. The noises coming from the male weren’t human.

  Bettina couldn’t do it. She couldn’t watch. Shame filled her as she looked away. The killing had to be done. Dusta had hunted them, wouldn’t stop pursuing them until he was dead. But she couldn’t observe it. She wasn’t that strong.

  Squishy sounds originated from the direction of the other human, the male caught in the trap. Her gaze shifted to him and she instantly regretted that impulse.

  The furry beings were ripping the male apart with their teeth. Crimson arced in all directions. Her stomach convulsed.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “I lied to you, sir. I can’t watch the killings.”

  “Then don’t watch us, my softhearted female.” Loud cracks and more screams punctuated her cyborg’s words. “Contemplate how bad you’ve been and the reprimands you’ve earned.”

  “I will, sir.” She pushed thoughts of death and killing and loss out of her mind, replacing them with memories of how his rough palm felt against her bare ass, the smack of his skin against hers, the heat that radiated from the points of contact.

  Moments passed. The screaming stopped.

  “It’s over, baby.” Her cyborg’s deep voice caressed her soul.

  She opened her eyes, gazed down at him. He must have cleaned himself. Not a drop of blood speckled his gray skin or black body armor.

  He spoke the furry beings’ language and suddenly she was falling. She shrieked and waved her arms, trying to slow her descent.

  Her cyborg caught her easily, pressing her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her. “Are you damaged?” He gazed at her with heart-clenching concern.

  “I’m sad about my friend, sir.” She confessed to that emotional damage, her grief weighing on her. “But physically, I’m fine.”

  “You’re covered in blood.” His nose grazed over her skin, her cyborg sniffing the air around her.

  “All of the blood belonged to Blue Eyes, sir.” She touched his handsome face. “I’m unharmed.”

  Some of the lines bracketing his lips smoothed. “The furry beings lost many brethren this planet rotation.”

  Had she almost lost him? “Are you in pain, sir?” She tried to peer at his back, was unable to see it. “Your back is—”

  “My back is already repairing.” He grimaced. “I made an error when I blew up the humans’ ship, didn’t factor in the excessive explosives they had on board.”

  Why would they have explosives on board their ship? She frowned.

  It was doubtful they were using the material to dig tunnels, or demolish deserted structures, or complete some other non-lethal task.

  They likely planned to inflict great harm with those explosives. She suspected by killing Dusta and his crew, her cyborg and the furry beings had saved many innocent lifespans.

  Chuckles carried her past a bloody mound of flesh and bones. That must have been all that was left of their enemy.

  “Death is sometimes necessary, sir.” She shared that revelation with her cyborg. “I should have allowed you to kill Dusta while we were on the ship.”

  Blue Eyes would still be alive if he’d done that.

  Chuckles grunted. That sounded like he agreed with her.

  She rested her cheek against his body armor-clad chest. “I need those reprimands now, sir.”

  She would confess to him all of her offenses, the sources of her guilt, the things she felt she should have done, the lives she should have saved, and, with each smack of his palm, he would absolve her of her wrongdoings, intentional or accidental. Her dominant sir would wipe her history clean and erase all of her mistakes.

  And she would find peace, as she always did after he reprimanded her.

  The pain in her chest would ease.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The reprimands had to be delayed. There were death ceremonies to perform first. Their fallen furry-being brethren had earned that respect.

  Chuckles cleaned his curvy female and her garments, using that opportunity to touch her all over, to examine her form in great detail. Some of her pale skin was discolored and there were red vine burns around her ankles. His shoulders lowered. His little human hosted his nanocybotics. She would repair. Her damage was temporary.

  She donned her flight suit and boots. He helped her fasten both.

  They walked to the site hand in hand. The dead were laid out on the ground, fruit and flowers and rocks set beside them. He accompanied his softhearted female as she placed a rock beside each form. The rock designated for Blue Eyes matched the one in her decoration.

  Leader talked of sacrifices, of how the dead had protected their fellow beings, how they now would swing in the great trees in the afterlife, where fruit was abundant and there were no shiny sticks.

  Chuckles translated the words. His female cried. Fiercely. Then she was engulfed in hugs from the female furry beings.

  He stood to the side, watching, marveling at how his little human had become a much-loved part of the group in mere planet rotations.

  “It is a sad time for our kind.” Leader moved beside him. “Never have I seen so much death in one sunrise.”

  “I regret bringing that death to you.” Chuckles took responsibility for their part in the attack. The humans had been hunting him and his female.

  “The death would have come.” Leader shrugged. “And you might not have been here to kill our attackers with sharp shiny rocks. Your female might not have been here to teach us to set traps.”

  His female’s skill at setting those traps had impressed Chuckles. She had defended her terrain like a warrior.

  “I will show you how to craft sharp shiny rocks at sunrise.” He told the furry being. Because he soon wouldn’t be there to kill attackers. The beings had to learn how to defend themselves.

  “We will be ready at sunrise to learn.” Leader dipped his furry head. “It is a skill none of us want to gain, but it is better we have it.”

  “It is better you have it.” Chuckles was 94.6539 percent certain they’d need it. “One of my brethren will be arriving moments after the training.” He warned the male. “We have to return to our kind.”

  His female would be better protected on the Reckless, with his brethren around them and the systems monitoring a wider range of space.

  She walked slowly toward them, chattering with the furry beings, exchanging embraces with them. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet. His little human felt much, openly showing her grief and her affection.

  For others.

  Her feelings for him remained a mystery. She cared for him. He processed that. But how much? Would he ever be worthy of the human love emotion?

  “When you first arrived, I was certain Blue Eyes’ path was meant to merge permanently with yours.” Leader observed Chuckles’ female also. “You would take her into the sky to meet your kind. She would find happiness and belonging there, something she never found with our kind.” He glanced up at Chuckles, his eyes reflecting a solemn wisdom. “But she did not have to leave our world to do that. Her bond with your female was fast and firm. They were beings with the same heart, and Blue Eyes experienced true joy before her short path ended. That is rare, a colorful stone others search their entire lifespans to find. Tell your female this. It might not heal her hurt but it might ease it.”

  “I will share your words with her.” Chuckles would wait until they were alone to do that. He was 100.0000 percent certain the furry being’s communication would cause his female more emotional damage.

  Leader nodded. Their gazes met for a moment.

  The male then swung into the branc
hes, disappearing into the trees without uttering another sound.

  Chuckles knew his female better than anyone on the planet. She required physical damage to repair her emotional damage.

  Bracing his booted feet apart and folding his arms in front of his chest, he watched her approach. He would redden that lush ass of hers, give her the release she needed.

  Her gaze met his. Her eyes lit up, that sparkle rivalling any substance a being could manufacture. “Is it time, sir?”

  “It’s time, baby.” He grasped her waist and everything he hadn’t processed was malfunctioning inside him reset. Even the ache in his left knee faded to the back of his processors. When he was with his female, he was whole and powerful.

  He lifted her high off the ground, blatantly demonstrating that strength. She yelped, the sound holding excitement and no fear.

  Chuckles hefted his female over his right shoulder and limped at a fast cyborg pace toward the tree they’d claimed the previous rest cycle. She kicked her legs. He strapped one of his arms over them, pinning her in place.

  She was his. He would never let her go.

  “Your back is healing, sir.” She relayed that observation. “Your frame is now covered with light-gray skin.”

  “Your ass will soon be red, baby.” He smacked it, savoring her lush curves, the feel of her against his palm.

  His female jerked and her enticing scent intensified. “Thank you, sir.” She sighed, that sad sound pulling at his heart. “I need to be reprimanded. It was my fault Blue Eyes placed herself in danger. I told her we had to be the wall between the bad males and our friends.”

  “Did you shoot her?” He cuffed her ass harder, giving her the reprimand she deserved. His female’s processing lacked logic. “Was it your projectile in her chest?” He smacked her again. “Did you want her and every being like her dead?” He emphasized that question with another slap of his hand.

  “No, sir.” Her voice stretched with damage. “But—”

  “There are no buts.” He walloped her ass, using a fraction of his strength. “Her death.” Whack. “Was not.” Whack. “Your fault.”