Mars Ho! (Mars Adventure Romance Series Book 1) Read online

  Mars Ho!

  Mars Adventure Romance Series, volume 1

  Jennifer Willis

  Copyright © 2017 by Jennifer Willis.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Cover artwork design by Steven Novak.

  Author photo by Rachel Hadiashar.

  Published by Jennifer Willis

  Portland, Oregon

  Jennifer-Willis.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or deceased), business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away. If you did not purchase this ebook, or it was not purchased for you, please visit your online retailer to purchase your own copy. If you would like to share this ebook with others, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting and supporting the hard work of the author.

  Created with Vellum

  For Barbara Bass,

  Who always believed I’d make it into outer space.

  As usual, I went about it a little differently than expected.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Wait!

  PREVIEW: Lovers and Lunatics

  Chapter 1

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Jennifer Willis

  1

  Lori honestly hadn’t anticipated how challenging it was to say goodbye to her underwear.

  Her bra and panties were nothing special. A matched set at least, though the lavender satin wasn’t as lustrous as it had been when she’d first tried on the bra in the Victoria’s Secret changing room the year before, and the lace trim of her bikini panties was looking a little ratty.

  But it was her favorite set. Comfortable and pretty. And it made her feel sexy and alive beneath her clothes. Now she had to trade her lavender lace for the dull-colored performance fabric of the athletic bras and briefs that were part of the official uniform of the female Mars Ho contestants.

  Technically, she shouldn’t have put her bra and panties back on after the humiliating strip search. The woman with the blue latex gloves had been nice enough, sympathetic even, but that had just made the invasion worse. While Lori was poked and prodded from head to toe, she’d forgotten about the silky underwear balled up in her fist, and then the lady with the gloves had let her walk off with her lingerie.

  Lori regarded herself in the mirror of the tight changing room, separated from the corridor by only a hanging sheet. She didn’t look too bad. Both the lingerie and her looks were holding up all right, though she wasn’t anxious to discover what her curves would look like in the standard-issue athletic bras and briefs. From this point forward, everything she wore, everything she used, everything she so much as touched was likely to be branded by one corporate sponsor or another. There would be precious little room for personalization or character.

  But going to Mars wasn’t cheap. The program had to pay the bills somehow.

  Lori unzipped her duffel bag—with the “Mars Ho!” logo in bright orange and dark green thread sewn into the navy ballistic nylon—and pulled out a pair of soft-sided Avid hikers. The shoes had been designed specifically for the Mars colonists, but online ads promised they were “coming to a retail outlet near you” before Christmas. She unfolded one of three burnt-orange jumpsuits from Tempe Sportswear that had been tailor-made for her. And she unpacked one set of the dreaded UnderCare garments meant to replace her lavender lingerie.

  Why couldn’t Victoria’s Secret or La Perla be sponsors? Surely when the folks back home caught glimpses of the new Mars colonists in their underthings—romping adventurously on humanity’s first extraterrestrial colony world—they’d prefer to see form-fitting satin instead of dull, oatmeal-gray poly-cotton.

  Lori took one last look in the mirror. She ran her fingers over the upward slope of material that covered her breasts, then rested her hands on her hipbones and looked her reflection squarely in the eye. This was the last time she expected to feel remotely feminine.

  With a sigh of resignation, Lori bade a silent farewell to her favorite bra and reached back to undo the clasp. The elastic straps were just slipping off her shoulders when the curtain was yanked unceremoniously aside.

  Lori found herself standing face to face with a very naked man.

  A very naked but rather good looking man, she noticed. Tall and lean, too. But her flush of embarrassment and the heat of outrage at having her privacy so rudely invaded kept her from exploring the thought any further. She clutched at the thin fabric of her brassiere to hold it in place.

  “You can’t take that into the biodome with you!” the man barked at her, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Lori was frantically trying to refasten her bra. Neither did he seem the least perturbed by his own state of undress. Holding the curtain aloft with one hand, he gripped his own Mars Ho duffel in the other and stood his ground. “And, you’re in my changing room.”

  “I’m sorry?” Lori choked out as she stepped backward and found herself pressed uncomfortably against the cold mirror. The glass sent chilling shocks across her body, pimpling her skin and stiffening her nipples visibly through the delicate satin—a reaction she hoped the naked stranger didn’t misinterpret.

  “No personal items allowed.” He dropped his duffel to the floor by his feet, and Lori found herself distracted by the graceful movement of his muscles.

  “How did you even manage to smuggle that in here?” His tone was still angry but his face revealed genuine curiosity.

  “I’m not smuggling anything.” Lori grabbed at her jumpsuit and attempted to cover herself with it. Now that she felt less exposed, she pushed away from the mirror and tried not to think about the reflection of her scantily-clad backside that this bare, angry stud would be able to see over her shoulder.

  “If you’re talking about my underwear, I was . . . I was just getting ready to change into this.” She indicated the jumpsuit pressed to the front of her body.

  The naked stranger paused and seemed to consider her words, giving Lori the opportunity to pause and consider his body. He was tall and lean, with a smattering of dark hair curling across his chest. As her eyes traced the contours of his biceps, shoulders, and thighs, she tried not to let her gaze linger too obviously on his equipment.

  She liked what she saw.

  Every Mars Ho contestant possessed abilities and expertise that would be critical to the first mission of colonists to Mars, and Lori caught herself wondering what special skills this particular candidate might bring to the table.

  But she was being crude. Was she over Charlie already? She wasn’t the kind of person who would so quickly dismiss a recent ex and move on. But this man—this dark-haired, amber-eyed specimen of all that is holy in the male form—was still standing before her, and was still very naked.

  And
apparently beginning to notice her as well.

  He reached down for his duffel bag and held it strategically in front of his body. “Okay, but, uh, you can’t wear that.”

  Lori smiled. He was beginning to blush, his lightly tanned skin tinging pink from his face downward. He gripped his duffel with both hands and let the curtain rest on his firm shoulder.

  “But isn’t this what I’m supposed to wear?” she asked coyly. The lilt of flirtation felt foreign in her mouth, but she enjoyed the way it made him squirm, just a little, and the way the corners of his mouth quirked up.

  “You know what I mean.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Those garments are a clear violation of the rules regarding personal items and effects. If this contest is to be fair—”

  “You mean my bra?” Lori let the top of the jumpsuit slip to expose one delicate shoulder strap and a hint of lace. He noticed. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight between his feet. She felt a tiny twinge of guilt for making him uncomfortable, even though he was the one who had barged in on her.

  She nudged her open duffel bag with her bare foot. “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to get away with anything. I just needed some time to give up this last personal luxury.”

  A moment of silence hung between them before he burst out laughing. “How are you supposed to say goodbye to the Earth if you can’t even let go of your underwear?”

  Lori frowned, both at the sentiment and his phrasing. There was a chorus of laughter from farther down the corridor, and Lori guessed his comment had been overheard and likely taken out of context. Before she could think of an appropriate retort, another voice called out.

  “Dr. Lauren? I’m sorry, but you’re supposed to be in this changing area here.”

  Before he turned to go, the naked man—Dr. Lauren, apparently—gave Lori a quick once over and lifted one eyebrow as his eyes met hers. Was he flirting with her, or sizing up the competition? He stepped away, leaving Lori to don her Mars Ho uniform in peace, though she managed to get a good look at his bare backside before the curtain fell closed behind him.

  Lori leaned against the mirror again, despite the chill. Her heart was pounding in her ears and she had to take a minute to slow her breathing. She couldn’t tell if she was incensed or aroused. Maybe both. She closed her eyes and remembered where she was and why she was here.

  She let out a low, nervous laugh. She wasn’t comfortable with confrontation. She never knew what to say, much less how to express it. How much of an idiot had she been with Dr. Lauren? If she wanted to do well in the competition, she was going to have to be more affable and more assertive. Nobody wanted to send a shy doormat to Mars.

  Moving quickly and without further nostalgia, Lori removed her bra and slid out of her favorite panties, knowing she might never feel the touch of satin against her skin again. The UnderCare briefs and bra were surprisingly comfortable, and when she checked herself in the mirror, she didn’t look half-bad in the grayish tan performance underwear.

  She didn’t have high hopes for the jumpsuit, however. Orange had never been her color, and she wondered if the uniform was meant to level the playing field by making everyone who wore it as unattractive as possible. Of course, that didn’t make any sense. The Mars Ho producers needed to keep their global audience happy—and keep them buying Mars-branded merchandise. That meant comely people doing scandalous things, on camera.

  Lori pretended not to second guess what she’d gotten herself into.

  She pulled tight the elastic cords on her boots and zipped up the front of her jumpsuit. Her heart was only beginning to settle after her close encounter with the naked Dr. Lauren. They hadn’t entered the biodome yet—where they would be judged on everything from technical skills to problem solving, and on their personal interactions as well—and she had already come nearly skin-to-skin with one of her competitors.

  A competitor who was also a potential mate.

  Lori tried to recapture her initial outrage at his behavior, but instead wondered what he might be a doctor of. She simultaneously cringed and tingled over the idea of his being the first Mars colonists’ medic. So she tried to imagine him in his own ugly orange jumpsuit, and that helped a little.

  She cast a last glance at her silky underwear on the floor, then turned and pulled the curtain back. She was met almost instantly by Hannah, the young minder assigned to her, and was ushered along to the next phase of her orientation.

  Entering the dome itself was anticlimactic. Carrying her Mars Ho duffel—which held her Tempe Sportswear socks and spare jumpsuits, her UnderCare underwear, Denti-Stream toothbrush, Scroll tablet computer, Ryland nail clippers, and the small assortment other branded items that now made up the entirety of her personal property on this Earth and beyond—Lori walked down a long airlock-style corridor that was crammed with more cameras than she’d ever seen, set to capture her entry from every conceivable angle.

  Four times, Hannah called Lori back for another take. Could she try smiling more? Smiling less? Walking more slowly? Holding her Mars Ho bag at a more shallow angle, so that the program logo showed prominently?

  Lori hadn’t had any idea there were so many different ways to walk through a narrow tunnel. She said as much to Hannah, who was covered head-to-toe in an isolation suit. The hood kept slipping forward and cutting off Hannah’s view through the attached visor.

  The producers weren’t leaving anything to chance. Once the Mars Ho candidates were cleared by medical and had gotten all their shots, appendectomies, and corrective laser procedures provided by corporate sponsor Core Vision, they were living literally inside a bubble. Every breath was filtered air, every surface sanitized, every possible germ or speck of dust eliminated from the program’s biodome environment.

  “You think this is a pain?” Hannah laughed as she readjusted her visor. “The original idea was to have you guys come through here in space suits. Full EVA. Freaking nightmare.”

  Lori didn’t pay much attention to Hannah’s explanation about the logistics of bulky helmets in the tight corridor, and the producers’ frustration about losing the dramatic reveal of the Mars colony candidates as they removed their helmets and smiled at the cameras for the first time. She was more focused on getting to the sealed door at the end of the corridor and finally entering the Mars Ho Candidate Habitat—her home for the coming competition. If she was lucky, the MHCH would be her last home on Earth.

  On her fifth pass through the corridor, Lori finally reached the rounded airlock door and looked back at Hannah. The young producer smiled behind her glass faceplate and gave Lori an enthusiastic, blue-gloved double thumbs-up.

  Lori took a deep breath and reached for the levered handle to open the air-tight seal. The door popped open and Lori pulled it wide. She stepped through the circular opening, the door whispering closed behind her.

  And just like that, she was inside the biodome. Mars on Earth.

  The airlock door sealed with a hiss. Lori wasn’t actually in space—the pull of gravity was enough to disabuse her of that fanciful notion—but she pondered the authenticity of this Earth-bound simulation. They were still at a full g, with the Arizona desert—and a hospitable atmosphere—just outside the MHCH’s domed shell.

  She followed the dark gray-blue arrows painted on the lighter gray-blue walls, pointing her toward Women’s Bunk 1. She knew nothing about her roommates or any of the other people she might be spending the rest of her life with—save for Dr. Lauren’s rigidity about rules and what he looked like naked. No fancy dorm or tribe names here. There was already enough trouble with public ridicule of the reality show’s name without additional silliness like the Buck Rogers Bunk or Dejah Thoris Dorm.

  The curving corridor was empty as she followed the arrows around the dome’s interior. Hannah had said at least a dozen others had entered already, but the habitat was eerily quiet.

  The producers had been very careful to keep the candidates separate from each other and their identities under wraps. Lori hadn’t come
within a hundred feet of the others while they were at The Ranch for their last medical checks. Lori had gotten chummy with the eleven others in her initial selection group during their two weeks of survival training, but they’d all been assigned pseudonyms—Lori Ridgway had become Laura Riley—and she hadn’t seen a single one of them since. Apparently, she was the only colony candidate from her group to advance to the biodome.

  Lori passed a series of closed doors as she curved along the biodome’s outer corridor. Most of the doors lay along the inner wall—Media 1, Media 2, Men’s Bunk 1, Spindle 1, Men’s Bunk 2, Galley, Recreation, Media 3, Spindle 2, Utility, Control, Men’s Bunk 3, Spindle 3—with a few airlock alcoves carved into the dome’s outer wall. Given all the cameras in the entry tunnel, Lori assumed her every step inside the dome was being recorded for broadcast, and it made her feel itchy.

  She kept curving slowly around, looking for Women’s Bunk 1. She was likely on some producer’s screen even now, with scores of motion-activated camera feeds monitored 24x7. Hannah had assured her there wouldn’t be any surveillance in the bathrooms, at least, and Lori wondered how much time she could get away with spending in the head without violating her Mars Ho contract or endangering her placement on the final mission team.

  She guessed she had walked more than half-way around the dome by the time she reached Women’s Bunk 1. She opened the door and stepped into a snug dorm room of excited activity.

  The walls were the same blue-gray color of the corridors and pretty much every other surface she’d seen inside the biodome. The only splashes of contrast came in the form of two framed Mars maps and a half-dozen Mars Ho promotional posters. Lori counted six beds—three double-bunks—and four women already in the room. Lori was the next-to-last in this dorm, and she made her way quickly to one of the free beds.