Free Doomsday Warrior 12 - Death American Style by Ryder Stacy

aisle and out the door. Not a man, even those who disagreed violently with the idea, dared reach out or say a loud word. The fighting abilities of Ted Rockson were known by all.
    The moment he exited the place, pandemonium broke loose. Within seconds Fabres completely and totally lost control of the situation, as voices screamed out for court martial, for arresting Rockson for going against the Council’s decree, and much more. But the Doomsday Warrior had no time for it. No time at all. If anyone wanted to stop him—they could try.

Seven
    S he stared at him with the kind of frank admiration that women feel for their men when they see them do something powerful, perform some feat of strength or daring through pure will. The will of one man over another, one man over a group. He was powerful. That’s what turned her on so much about him. No other man in Century City could even come close to his strength, physical and mental. Many had tried. But she had thrown them on their backs with a judo throw or foot sweep. She wasn’t a woman to play around with. If she could beat up a man—she couldn’t love him.
    “Rock—they’re angry out there,” Rona whispered softly as Rockson lay on his bed, staring up at the white ceiling as if deep in thought. “Talking about—about all kinds of things. They don’t like the will of the Council thwarted.” She spoke the words nervously, but her eyes betrayed that whatever he did was fine with her.
    “There was no decree, Rona,” Rock said softly, not moving his eyes from the invisible thing they were focused on straight above his head. “The vote was close. Thus, nothing was decided. The situation was neutral. I moved in and filled the space. At any rate, I’m willing to take the consequences—whatever they are. They’ll either let me go or shoot me.”
    “Take me,” she said, lying alongside him.
    “Not a chance, baby,” Rock answered, turning his head and letting his mismatched eyes take in her full beauty. “This one’s going to be bad—real bad; I can feel it in my bones. I’m not saying the Premier’s not on the up-and-up, but something’s wrong, somewhere. There’s a dark veil hanging over the future.”
    “Then don’t go Rock, for God’s sake. Your intuition has saved your ass before. You always told me you would never go against it, that it was that very mutant ability that had let you live—when so many others didn’t.”
    “I’ve got to go, Rona, for the reasons I said. It is a military operation—if it’s a trap, maybe it can be sprung on them. They’re stupid up there at the top, Rona, you and I both know that. Perhaps somehow this whole thing can be used for our good. Can be something that does help peace, even if there’s treachery.”
    “Oh shut up, Rockson,” the redhead said suddenly, pulling herself to him hard, slamming her lips down against his. She pressed her tongue in like a snake looking for a mouse and cleaved against him so he could feel her firm melon breasts pumping with desire, pressing against him. Her hands snaked around his neck and her hips pressed hard, turning in little circles. Rock held the kiss for nearly a minute as she just seemed to come at him stronger every second. At last he came up for air.
    “My God, the woman is aggressive,” Rock laughed, pulling his face a few inches away from hers, but holding her just as tight.
    “If you’re going to get taken prisoner and tortured—and all your bodily appendages snipped off one by one,” she said with a look of mock anger at him, “then I want one last fuck. Before it’s all gone.”
    “You really know how to get a guy excited,” Rock laughed. But though his words were critical, his hands and body weren’t. He couldn’t resist her sweet smell, her soft flesh pressing him over the whole front of his body. The woman was a siren, she was irresistible. How could any man be anything but a puppet on a string of desire in her hands?
    She pushed back away from him