He watched her carefully, scrutinizing the straightness of her bearing without getting distracted by the sexy curve of her neck revealed by the messy up-do and the direct look and firm manner she used dealing with Cyn. No, she wasn’t crew. He’d bet his last credit she was an owner-operator of one of the big rigs currently on the docking ring of the station.
“So you have no androids that resemble cyborgs at all?” Her disappointment was evident as she looked about the shop. The gladiator model was on the runway and it stopped as it sensed her looking its way and posed. Johnny growled, the urge to knock its plastic teeth down the back of its throat almost getting the better of him. Hell, he had it bad if just a bot looking at her had him ready to kill it.
“Stall her.” He sent to Cyn via their internal comms link. It was one of the few implants they kept active while on station. A lot of people had cyber-implants, most were medical-grade, but comms units were also common, the small implants so tiny they hardly impacted on the five percent cybernetics every citizen was allowed before they had to register as a cyber. No one wanted to do that and become a second-class citizen, so most stayed well away from the five percent.
“Hmmm…there is something…let me have a look…” Cyn’s voice was pitched loud enough for him to hear as he stepped back and stripped off his shirt. “Johnny…please tell me I’m not going to regret this?”
The shirt fell to the floor as he looked at himself quickly in the full length mirror by the door. From one of the podiums, it was cracked on one side and tilted against the wall, but usable. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to tame the spikes but gave up. It would have to do. His combats were dark gray, not the quite the black he used in the show but thankfully he’d put boots on this morning, not sandals. Yeah, he could pull this off.
“When would I ever do that to you, sweetheart?”
Leaning forward he looked at his face in the mirror and concentrated. After a moment a stain appeared on his cheek, quickly solidifying into letters and numbers as he released the cellular control of the chameleon pad under his cheek. Not his number, he couldn’t risk that…but a random string that would mean nothing if someone got curious enough to run it.
“You want a list? Yeah, there’s something here. It’s a prototype, but I’ll just activate him and you can take a look,” Cyn said aloud, then switched to internal communication to speak to him. “Hun, she wants to hire a sexbot…ohmygod, I just became your procurer. You owe me a day at the Starburst bar for this. I want the works. Stellar massage, their diamonite facial…oh my god, and their nebula foot bath!”
He bit back his grin as he set his movements and walked forward. Instead of pushing the one-way aside, he simply walked through it. The fabric caught on his head and shoulders, obscuring his vision for a moment before it fell away. Without looking left or right, he marched through the shop, almost body-slammed the gladiator bot and stopped by the side of the petite woman looking at him with her mouth open.
God, the things he could do with that pretty mouth. Locking the erotic thoughts away, he swiveled his head from her to Cyn. “You activated me?”
Chapter Three
Oh my f**king god.
That the shop had a cyborg model was beyond her wildest dreams, but when the prototype walked through into the shop Milly’s heart almost stopped. Big, broad-shouldered and bulging with muscles, it was as if Johnny Ram himself had walked into the shop, large as life and twice as lickable.
“I have to warn you.” The shop owner, Cyn, ignored the bot and carried on talking to her. “He is a prototype, so he has a few personality glitches. Bluntly put, he’s a pain in the ass. All talk…don’t worry. He has the usual behavioral limiters so there’s no way he could hurt you actively or through inaction.”
“Uh huh.”
Milly was only half-listening to her as she walked a slow circle around the bot. He was perfect. Every detail, from his musculature right down to the costume he wore, was spot on. Amazement and awe for the bot creator’s skill surged through her. She’d long ago learnt not to expect too much from bots, particularly ones based on celebrities. They were always that little bit off, either the eyes too close together or maybe the lips and nose not quite right. She leaned forward to stroke a finger down the bot’s back. But this one was perfect, even down to the individual pores in the skin.
“Amazing. You do great work.”
“Thank you. He’s a bit of a project.” Cyn beamed at her as Milly circled around to the front again to look up into the bot’s face.
He was so freaking tall, exactly the same height as the real thing. Standing so close, she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. No surprise there, all sexbots had internal heat regulation to make them appear more human. What did surprise her was the bolt of need that speared her, arrowing down to her groin and making her p**sy clench hard.
God, just looking at him got her wet. She’d never had that before, not with a human lover and definitely never with a bot.
“How much?” she asked suddenly, her gaze flicking over the alpha-numeric sequence and wandering down his body as she looked her fill. Big shoulders, solid chest, tight abs, lean hips…oh yeah. Kneeling down, she peered at the ink on his stomach.
“More than skin deep… That’s amazing. You even got the tattoo perfect.”
“I bring in outside experts for the small details as and when required.” Cyn shrugged.
“Just part of the whole experience. As for price… He is a prototype and he’s still in learning mode. If—” She paused and considered Milly keenly. “Would you be willing to fill in a performance questionnaire? On his attitude, prowess and stamina? If you would, then you can have him for the full four days. No charge apart from the retainer. Which will, of course, be refunded to your credit line when you return him undamaged.”
Free. She tapped her lips and pretended to consider the offer. Free was a damn good price. Her favorite price. She looked up to find his green-gold gaze on her, with what looked a lot like heat in them, which wasn’t possible. Even though she was on her knees in front of him in what could be perceived as a sexually provocative position, no bot should react to that and get…
She couldn’t resist. Her gaze flicked down, her nose on the same level as his belt buckle. The thick bar of his c*ck was easily visible straining the faded fabric.
“Experimental predictive arousal system,” Cyn supplied at her gasp, amusement in her voice. “That can be a bit glitchy as well. Either that or he’s just randy all the time.”
He was huge. Just like Johnny.
“Can I?” Fingers going to the snaps on the bots pants, she arced an eyebrow in Cyn’s direction. If she was going to be road-testing the thing, she really should check out its capabilities.
Yeah, right, the little voice in her head sneered, You just want to see what Johnny’s c*ck looks like.
“Be my guest.”
Cyn waved her on and busied herself with a data pad on the counter in front of her, as if the whole process of a bot’s gen**als bored her to tears. Probably did, making the things, she probably saw them as a collection of parts, whereas Milly was still teetering between knowing that the thing in front of her was a bot and wanting to suspend disbelief so she could buy into the fantasy that this really was Johnny Ram. A version of him who couldn’t be hurt if that a**hole Jason decided to play the a**hole.
Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she dipped her fingers beneath the waistband of the pants. The muscles in his stomach twitched at the slight brush of her fingers and she stopped, fascinated.
“Here, let me help.”
His voice broke in unexpectedly, his large hands closing over hers and moving them to curl around his h*ps as he unbuckled his pants for her. She watched his hands, large and capable, as he unsnapped each fastener. Her mouth went dry as anticipation caught her in its grasp. She couldn’t have looked away for all the cargo on the station.
“Told you, he’s bossy. It’s a personality glitch I still need to sort,” Cyn commented as she peered at the pad, fingers quick as she put the hire paperwork together for Milly to take.
“He is. He’s perfect.”
It was perfect. Milly sat back on her heels and looked up at her big, perfect Johnny bot. Or would that be Rambot? He was bossy, but that didn’t bother her. Bossy was good at the right time and place, like in the bedroom. She suppressed a shiver of excitement at the thought of bossy becoming forceful. She wasn’t into the bondage gear and whatnot of the BDSM scene, but hell, did she like a guy to be take charge when it came to sex. Add in the added excitement of a bad boy and she was caught—hook, line and sinker.
A feral expression flashed across his face before it vanished, leaving her to wonder if she’d seen it at all.
“Cyborgs are not bossy,” he argued, taking a small step toward her. “We are dominant and assertive. Get my c*ck out. Touch it.”
“Aries 7000!” Cyn snapped. “Behave yourself.”
He gave her a haughty look. “Begone, human, I am busy.”
Heat pooled in Milly’s lower body, scalding dampness slipping from her cunt to soak her panties. Decision made, she surged to her feet before she did something she’d regret. Like embarrass herself by sucking a bot’s c*ck right there in the shop.
“I’ll take him. Four days hire. Later,” she said in an undertone to the Rambot. “Do yourself up.”
You’ll pay for that one, missy.
Personality glitch indeed. Unable to get anything through their mental link over the uproarious sound of Cyn’s amusement, Johnny contented himself with giving her a hard look, both for the comments and the fact that he was now sporting a lurid pink t-shirt that had “House of Cyn” emblazoned across the chest, as he followed his mystery woman out of the shop.
Hard on her heels, he uplinked to the shop’s database, pulling the rental agreement that Cyn had just input. A small grunt crossed his lips as she stopped, waiting for a group of Tralaxians to pass by, their high-pitched chatter irritating his ears. The pause gave him time to concentrate on the sexy curve of her neck, revealed by her upswept hairstyle, and the details on the form as it downloaded.
She was Milly Locke, freighter captain of the Starflame, and a human from the Tervashis colonies. Interesting, he wouldn’t have put her down as a Tervashi, they normally ran to tall and blonde, the women less curvy than the brunette vixen in front of him. He scrolled through the rest of the form as she started walking again. The rest of the data was routine. The Starflame was docked at the station, and she’d added the dock number and departure code as security against his “hire”. A four day hire. He knew it, she was into him. So why had she run at the club?
Intrigued, he remote linked to the station public access database, careful to conceal his tracks as Cyn had drilled into him. The last thing they needed was the authorities to work out that there were a couple of rogue cyborgs on base. The slightest hint would have the Fleet’s Witchfinder General on base quicker than an Arborian speed-skater. If that happened, he and Cyn would be gone just as quick. Their cover was good, but not that good. A medical exam would quickly pick up that their implants were far more extensive than the few medical grade installs that Cyn had listed on their doctored records.