Sunday, August 29, 2010

Deep Space Encounters: Rescuing Natcha by Selena Blake

Rescuing Natacha by Selena  Blake

Read an excerpt

Rescuing Natacha

by Selena Blake 

Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-471-9
Genre(s): Sci-Fi
Theme(s): Interracial
Series: Deep Space Encounters
Length: Novella


Halyn's mission was simple. On paper. Travel to PrimeC, rescue Natacha, bring her back to Isis on Del Sorna. But he should have known that no mission goes exactly as planned, and no matter how prepared the spacemerc was, he was not prepared for Natacha. Or the feelings she inspired.
In tight quarters with a strange man, running from the Federation, Natacha goes into withdrawal from the gas on PrimeC. Isis says Natacha can trust this man, but she's not sure she can trust herself.
The more he tries to soothe her symptoms, the more passionate she becomes. Is her lust real... or just a side effect? And just how long can a man be expected to stay out of her bed when she keeps begging him to join her?
Rescuing Natacha
Selena Blake
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Selena Blake

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A ray gun blast whizzed by Halyn West's right shoulder, and he spun and returned fire. The woman, a PrimeC soldier dressed in white, fell back against the wall, a gaping wound in her chest. The stench of fried flesh filled the ultra modern lounge, but he knew she wasn't alone. He dropped to one knee behind a low-slung sofa and took out two more PrimeC soldiers who hugged the walls of an adjoining corridor, his aim deadly.
Halyn closed himself off to the chaos reigning around him and focused on the shadows, using his gift to sense danger. His job was to get in, rescue Isis's friend Natacha, and get out. In one piece. But the Federation army was early. Four weeks early by the sounds of the ray gun blasts from the hallway behind him. The residents, women being brainwashed and held against their will, ran past him. They wore matching masks of confusion and terror, obviously stunned by the sudden appearance of armed soldiers and the ensuing gunfight.
When he didn't see any more enemy troops, he rose to his full height and started for the wide hallway before him. With all the frightened women heading for the hills, the hall was eerily quiet. So quiet that he wondered if he was walking into an ambush. But he sensed nothing. Holding a gun in each hand, he aimed one left and the other right, walking sideways, his back to the wall. He counted each door as he passed and when he came to the fifth one, he stopped, turned, and aimed in both directions again. Next to the door, a digital sign read Natacha & Isis. He used the handle of his weapon to smash in the computerized panel below the sign and the door opened instantly.
He shifted the weapon in his left hand to aim directly in front of him as he stepped into the small, dimly lit space. Tension rippled through him, and his old shoulder wound throbbed. The first room contained two gray chairs and a small center table. He stepped further into the space, and a feminine moan filled his ears.
He stepped right, his gaze sweeping the bedroom beyond. There on one of the single wide beds was a woman in the throes of a passionate dream. Eyes firmly shut, she lay twisted with the covers, her gown hiked up around her chest. She continued to moan as her hands roamed over her stomach, hips, and...
He swallowed hard. Isis was right. Natacha was chocolate in a vanilla world. Her skin was so beautifully dark against the stark white sheets. Her hair fanned around her, covering her pillow as she turned her head left, right, then left again.
Now was not the time to be transfixed but -- he stepped closer, lowering the gun in his right hand. She rubbed her clit with four fingers, and her thighs spread wide as her hips tipped upward. Halyn cursed the blood rushing to his cock. He'd wasted too much time already, standing here watching some woman get off in her sleep.
Fuck. Her middle finger dipped between the slick folds and her hips tilted further, giving him an incredible view of the innermost folds of her pretty pink cunt.
The tip of her finger thrust inside her pussy, and a husky gasp escaped her lips. His gaze drifted up her body, over the heavy breasts beneath the sheer gown, the dark nipples poking the fabric, to her face. She was beautiful. Sensual, with a wide succulent mouth he had an uncontrollable urge to kiss. But he couldn't. Not now. Now, he needed to get her out of this hellhole.
Tucking his guns back in the holsters, he adjusted his cock, giving it a firm squeeze before he started toward Natacha. He'd stop off somewhere once he got Natacha back to Isis and take care of the... tension.
As much as he hated to stop her show, halt her dream and ruin her orgasm, time was of the essence. Federation troops would be crawling over this whole compound in a few short minutes. He bent, tucking his arms beneath her writhing body, and lifted her high against his chest. Though it was warm inside the compound, her skin was icy against his. Her sweet scent filled his nose, and surprisingly, she didn't wake. Did they drug the women so they'd sleep? Or was her dream really that powerful?
Looking down at the soft O of her lips he wondered what... who she was dreaming about. Damn it, that didn't matter right now. He turned for the door and saw a Federation soldier dart past.
"Damn," he muttered and turned back toward the single square window between the two beds. Face the troops or take his chances on the ice?
Without hesitating, Halyn swung Natacha up onto his shoulder, set his gun to blast, and fired two shots. One at the top of the window and one at the bottom. Once the smoke died down, a gaping hole beckoned escape and a wall of icy air blasted him.
Halyn whirled toward the soldier in the doorway. A single shot to the center of the other man's chest knocked him back into the hallway. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder, Halyn turned back to the window and surveyed the icy landscape. The drop to the ground was about the same height as he was.
This was going to hurt. But less than getting his ass shot. He jumped. The ice crunched beneath his feet, his shoulder screamed with pain, and Natacha came to life with a start. She screamed something he didn't understand, but the knee to his gut told him she wanted down.
"Hold on, honey." Struggling to stay upright on the slippery ground, he gathered his strength and started toward the end of the building. All he had to do now was get to his ship. Another knee to the gut knocked his breath from his lungs. He dropped his hand from her hip to curl behind her knees, immobilizing them. All he had to do, he corrected, was get to the ship, keep the girl calm, and not get shot. Or killed. Or kiss the girl.

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