Women of Steel 2: Martini on the Rocks Camille Anthony All rights reserved. Copyright ©2005 by Camille Anthony No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC. ISBN 1-59596-065-1 Formats Available: HTML, Adobe PDF, MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader Publisher: Changeling Press LLC PO Box 1561 Shepherdstown, WV 25443-1561 www.ChangelingPress.com Editor: Sheri Ross Carucci Cover Artist: Bryan Keller This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers. Prologue Martini sat at the long conference table situated in the main conference room on the Starbase, Gedde Prime, her folded hands resting on the table, eyes glued to the screen showing the approaching Scarth ships. She wondered what Denzel would think about this present situation. Instantly, she castigated herself. How can you sit here, faced with a horror almost beyond imagining, and still find yourself thinking about him ? She couldn’t help it. She missed him, missed the conversations they’d had, the arguments and quizzes. There was nothing like exploring the mind of a self-aware android. This morning she had done what she did every day since she’d reported for duty. She’d gotten up early, did her routine calisthenics and then jogged the perimeter of the base. Returning to her cabin, she had then spent far too much time in the shower, trying to scrub the memory of Denzel from her stubborn mind. The only thing was… she kept dwelling on all the things they’d never gotten around to doing. Recalling how frightened she’d been at the time, she couldn’t believe she was now wishing he’d had the time to take her ass. Just the thought had a nasty leap of excitement tickling her belly, causing her muscles to jump erratically. Her pulse pounded in a frantic rhythm. Nipples, rising against the snug material of her tunic, tightened and swelled. Her womb fluttered, turned liquid with heat that rained down into her vagina, making her wet. This is insane! I have to stop doing this. I have to get my mind off that fucking robot-boy and focus. Look at that flotilla, will you? The damn thing is miles long. Gaze locked on the images on the vid screen, she watched the inexorable fate hurtling toward her, toward Earth. The base stood light years out from Earth. Their allies, the Geddites, had first observed the armada a month ago, but had only confirmed the ships as Scarth configuration a week past. They’d sent the early warning to Command Central right after, and the information had resulted in Brigadier General Thalassic ordering all shore-leaves cancelled. She sent Marti to Gedde Prime to assess the immediacy of the threat facing Earth. Now, a week later, she was ready to return home and give her report. What I’m looking at is death, cold and implacable. And it is approaching at warp speed. “Matrix, help us.” Chapter One In the middle of the night, Marti came awake in her lonely bachelor’s quarters, eyes staring into the dark, mind spinning with the information her subconscious had provided during sleep. “Newton! Hercules’s sidekick was Newton, the young centaur.” Her sleep-encrusted eyes narrowed. “But you cheated me on the song, you dog. Those weren’t the right words!” She fell back against the cool cotton sheets, drawing her blankets up around her shoulders. Shivering in the pre-dawn chill, she twitched and fidgeted until the covers cocooned her just so. “I don’t know how I could have forgotten that show. Mom loved that little mute guy, Tewt, who communicated by playing on the pan pipes.” A wide yawn surprised her, over before she had time to bring up her hand and cover her mouth. Halfway through a second jaw-stretching yawn, her bladder woke up and screamed. “Well hell! Just when I start to get warm I gotta pee!” Throwing back the blankets, she sprinted toward the loo, quick-stepping across the cold floor until her bare toes reached the thick army-green rug she’d used to cover the tiles of the latrine. Doing the pee-pee dance, she palmed the light on, yanked up her nightgown and wiggled out of her panties. Before her bottom hit the seat, the flood commenced. Her chest rose with a thankful sigh, relief flooding through her. “Thank the Matrix I made it, this time!” She didn’t know why, but the last couple of days she’d missed the mark a few times, unable to control her bladder long enough to make it to a bathroom. She’d never had this problem before and couldn’t figure out why it had cropped up now. One thing was certain -- she found it darned embarrassing wetting her panties while practicing on the combat drill field… and it was inconvenient, too. Nothing like sprinting off the field while trying to keep the telltale signs from running down your leg. The situation made her feel like a damned school kid, unable to hold her water. Damn it, she was too young to start wearing Retains. Her toes curled into the warmth of the synthetic rug while her bare arms sprouted a second rash of goose bumps. Impatient to finish emptying her bladder and get back to bed, she rubbed her hands up and down her chilled flesh, working heat into her skin… and froze in the midst of the action. She hissed through her teeth as a spike of pain curled about her swollen nipples. “Ow -- ow -- ow! Ouch !” She’d forgotten and inadvertently brushed her distended tips. They were so tender, the slightest touch sent agony screaming through her. She carefully cupped her throbbing tips and held on until the pain lessened. Once it let up, she moved over to the sink and turned on the hot water, waiting impatiently for it to warm up. Shivering, she stuck a finger under the flow and snatched it back. Brrr ! Eons later, convinced the water was never going to turn warm, she gritted her teeth and thrust her hands quickly under the gushing water, lathering and drying them in record time. There was nothing worse than washing already cold hands in colder water. “ Damnthe maintenance department to hell,” Marti snarled. She’d put in a request for them to repair her hot water heater two days ago and it still wasn’t fixed. Why was everything going to hell in a hand basket around her, lately? Fine tremors, caused by the cold, still ran through her hands as she returned everything to its place and headed back to bed, absently palming off the light, brow furrowed in conjecture. Can good sex destroy your bladder? She thought it might, because she hadn’t had the “I-can’t-hold-it” problem until after she’d been with her borrowed A.I. unit, Denzel. And, oh my churning Matrix, he definitely had given her good sex! As always lately, as soon as she thought about him, her heart hurt with the now familiar ache of missing Denzel. She’d never had a better lover or better sex. In fact, she wouldn’t mind having some of that stellar class fucking right about now. “Dammit, I forgot to bank my covers.” With a disgruntled sigh and another low curse, she slid back under her ice-cold bedding. “Shitpissfuck! I’ll never get back to sleep at this rate. Reveille sounds entirely too early these days.” Hugging herself beneath the blankets, waiting for her spot to warm up again, her mind drifted back to those few glorious days spent with her M.A.N… Bold, flamboyant heat-inducing pictures made up her memories of those long lustful hours of sex -- the hot, panting, groaning, toe-curling, raunchy, nasty best ever imagined kind of sex only possible with a partner blessed with inhuman stamina. Marti sighed and curled her legs up closer to her torso, trying to evade the distracting cold. Hard to imagine it had only been three months since her life had changed. For five years, she had devoted her energies toward pushing back the Scarth invasion. Only when Earth’s forces had battled the enemy to a standstill, negotiated a cease-fire and mopped up the radioactive hot spots had she given herself permission to take care of her own needs. With all the abandonment of over five years’ worth of horniness, she had dived into the sexual experience of a lifetime. She had thoroughly indulged her deprived libido. For five glorious days filled with the joyous heat of discovery, she’d reveled in the intimate attentions of her personal Mechanistic Anatomically-correct Nurturer, taking full advantage of its torrid lovemaking skills -- edgy erotic skills that had left her craving more. General Thalassic had recalled her to active duty five days early due to rumors of another all-out Scarth invasion. For the first time during her military career, Marti resented having to answer to a higher authority. Reluctantly, she had packed and accompanied her escort back to headquarters. She’d arranged to have the unit delivered back to the offices of M.A.N.-Kind, Inc., only to find it had anticipated her orders and left without saying goodbye. If she’d had her way, she would have remained with her M.A.N. for the full ten days, luxuriating in the sensual feast he’d spread before her. A heated shudder chased the early morning cold away as she moaned in remembered bliss, recalling how often he’d spread her … buried his hot mouth and facile tongue between her thighs and made her his feast. Marti greatly feared she’d fallen in love with ...
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