Jingled

by Tana Stone

  She shrugged as she watched her mate fasten the sash filled with medals and commendations over his chest. “I guess Christmas isn’t my thing.”

  “From what Mandy said, it is a very important holiday on your planet. One that most people love.”

  “Most people,” Katie said. “Christmas was just never very merry when I was growing up.”

  She didn’t tell him that the holidays had been a perfect occasion for her professional scam-artist father to go into high gear, roping her into schemes to bilk people out of bonuses and convince them to donate to fake charities. He’d considered the uptick in generosity to be the perfect time to run cons, while the whole thing had made her feel dirty. It had been bad enough that she’d never had a normal childhood and had learned to play Three-card Monte when most kids were playing Uno, but fleecing people at Christmas had made her feel even worse. She’d quickly learned to dread the season, and the knowledge that she and her father and his shady friends would be the cause of more than one miserable Christmas.

  Zayn came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, then bent down so that he could kiss her neck. “Then we will make sure this year will be different.”

  She wanted to believe him, but the knot in the pit of her stomach told her not to get her hopes up. What did an alien who’d never even celebrated Christmas know about the holiday? It had never brought anything but sadness for her, and she preferred to ignore it altogether. Somehow, she suspected with Mandy at the helm of the Boat’s celebration, ignoring it would be hard to do this year.

  Katie let out a sigh—half resigned, half hopeful. “Okay.”

  He kissed her again, before walking to the door and swiping his hand over the side panel to open it. “Have fun planning with the other brides.”

  “Good luck at work.” She gave him her best smile, as he disappeared down the walkway with a final wave over his shoulder.

  “Fun” and “planning” were not two words that went together for Katie, especially not having to do with Christmas. She resisted muttering “Bah Humbug” under her breath, as she headed for the bathroom and her own shower.

  Chapter Five

  Even with her head practically inside the metal hull of the space ship, Trista heard the thudding boots as they crossed the floor of the flight deck. She didn’t look up, though. Not when she was so close to figuring out why the thruster on this particular fighter continued to jam.

  Drexian tech may have been significantly more advanced than that on Earth, but when it came down to it, machines were machines. She’d worked on enough bikes, trucks, and muscle cars to understand what made engines run. One advantage to dating guys who were in rough bike clubs on Earth. And if she was being honest, the only advantage.

  Trista drummed her oil-stained fingers on the steel of the damaged engine. “What’s got you all clogged up, baby?” she muttered.

  “I wouldn’t say clogged up.” The deep voice said from right beside her. “More like dismayed to find my mate missing from my bed.”

  Trista jumped at the sound and banged her head on the metal engine hatch. She straightened and tipped her head back to look up at her husband’s scowling face. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, Torven.”

  He looked slightly wounded at her response. “I did not sneak up on you.”

  Okay, he was right about that. She’d heard his footsteps, she just hadn’t known they were his, and hadn’t cared. She’d been too absorbed in her work, a recurring theme since she’d been given access to the flight deck and permission to assist with repairs.

  She was actually happy to see him, she thought, as she studied his severe expression with narrowed gold eyes. Despite his appearance—the shaggy dark hair, the thick tattoos swirling down one arm, the craktow tooth dangling from a leather cord around his neck, the massive muscles everywhere—she knew her husband wasn’t as scary as he looked.

  “Sorry.” Trista popped up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss, as she tucked a strand of blonde hair back into her ponytail. “I’m just stuck with this thruster issue.”

  He eyed the black hull of the fighter. “So stuck you had to crawl out of bed in the middle of the night to come work on it?”

  “It wasn’t the middle of the night. It was almost light outside, and yes, I had to come try something.”

  Her kiss seemed to mollify him, and he uncrossed his arms. “Did it work?”

  She let out a long breath. “No, but I’m not giving up.”

  “I would expect nothing less from my little grease monkey.” Torven hooked an arm around her waist, and yanked her close so she was flush with him.

  His nickname for her always made her smile. “Oh, yeah?”

  She put her grease-stained hands on his chest, all hard curves and ridged muscle, and her pulse quickened. As much as she loved working on engines, she couldn’t deny that the slightest touch by him could rev her up in a matter of seconds. She’d always had a thing for bad boys, although this bad boy was actually an honorable Drexian warrior who would give his life for hers without thinking twice. Trista liked to think that falling for him had finally broken her streak of getting involved with the wrong kind of men who never treated her right. Torven treated her like a goddess. Well, a grease-monkey goddess.

  “I’m proud of you.” Torven ran a thick finger down her throat, stopping at the top closure of the Drexian version of coveralls she’d thrown on over her clothes. “You’ve shown everyone just how smart and hardworking you are. And how you don’t take no for an answer.”

  “Thanks. I learned it from you.”

  He gave a low laugh as he unfastened the top of her coveralls to reveal a silky top. “You were headstrong and tough before I came along.”

  She shrugged, trying to ignore her rapid breathing as his finger wandered down and caressed the soft swell of one breast. “Maybe down deep, but you brought it out in me.”

  His eyes flashed desire as his finger brushed her nipple through the fabric, and it hardened instantly. “Then we bring out the best in each other, mate. As it should be. I always told you we were meant to be together.”

  He had always insisted that, even when she hadn’t been so sure, and everything seemed stacked against them. Torven had known he wanted her—and that they would be perfect for each other—in a way that made her catch her breath. It was hard to resist a guy who looked at you the way he looked at her.

  Trista glanced around. Luckily, the hangar bay wasn’t busy since it was early in the artificially created space station day cycle. That didn’t mean it was empty. A handful of aliens were inspecting ships, and a few Drexian pilots were preparing for departure.

  “Torven.” She bit her bottom lip as he flicked her nipple. “We can’t.”

  “Oh, we most certainly can. If I cannot get my fill of you when I wake up, then I must get it here.”

  She sucked in her breath as he pinched her lightly. “On the hangar deck?” Part of her was horrified, and another part of her—perhaps a bigger part of her—was thrilled.

  He pulled his hand out of her coveralls, and led her around to the other side of the ship. This particular ship happened to be docked at the far end of the high-ceilinged space, so there was nothing on the other side except for a curved wall.

  “Better?” he asked, proceeding to unfasten the coveralls and tug them so that they dropped to her ankles. His mouth gaped when he saw what she had on underneath—the blue shorty pajama set she’d been wearing when they went to bed the night before. “You walked around the station in this?”

  “Like you said, it was the middle of the night,” she told him with a half smile. “No one was around to see me.”

  He continued to stare in disbelief. “Anyone could have seen your nipples poking through the thin fabric.” His gaze lowered and his eyes widened. “And you aren’t wearing any panties underneath these tiny shorts.”

  Her cheeks heated. “Like I said, I was in a rush.” She darted a glance at her full breasts. “And my nipples weren’t ha
rd then.”

  “No?” He cupped her breasts in his large palms, thumbing the erect nipples. “This is all for me?”

  “Of course, it’s all for you.” She lowered her voice. “You know that.”

  “Mmm.” He closed the distance between them. “I like to hear you say it.”

  She met his gaze. “I’m only yours.”

  With a growl, he kissed her hard. Trista let the force of it press her back against the hull of the ship, wrapping her arms around his back and pulling him closer. She couldn’t stop a small moan escaping as his tongue found hers, caressing urgently while continuing to thumb her nipples.

  After a few moments, he slipped one hand from her breast and slid it underneath the waistband of her shorts. Using two fingers, her parted her slick folds and quickly found her clit. Her knees almost buckled as he began circling it with the tip of one finger.

  “You’re so wet for me, my little grease monkey,” he whispered in her ear.

  She couldn’t speak as he dropped down, capturing one nipple in his mouth and sucking. Blood pounded in her ears as competing sensations of pleasure made her bite her bottom lip to keep from crying out. She didn’t even care that they were in public, and anyone might walk around the ship and see them. As it was, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure things out by looking at their legs underneath the ship, especially with her coveralls around her ankles.

  “You taste so good,” he said, pulling away from her nipple.

  “Don’t stop,” she gasped.

  He grinned up at her. “Where do want my mouth, Trista?”

  Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt a spasm between her legs. “You know where I want it.”

  “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me where to lick you.”

  Her cheeks burned. “My pussy. I want you to lick my pussy.”

  Dropping to his knees, he yanked her shorts down until they joined the coveralls on the floor. He teased a kiss on her thigh. “This tight, wet pussy?”

  “Torven,” she begged, stepping out of the clothes pooled at her feet and kicking them away.

  He dragged his tongue between her folds, and she clutched at his shoulders so she wouldn’t fall. It was almost too much as he began swirling his tongue over her clit, and when he lifted one of her legs, hooking it over his shoulder, Trista dug her fingers into his flesh.

  His tongue continued to swirl while he slid a long, thick finger inside her, and began pumping it in and out. She dropped her head back, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling as her mate pleasured her, her heart racing and her hands gripping his shoulders so she wouldn’t collapse. When he quickened his pace, she couldn’t hold back anymore as her body convulsed around him, her release sending her catapulting over the edge. Clawing at his back, she gasped as wave after euphoric wave crashed over her.

  She felt boneless when he stood and gave her a satisfied grin. As the hum in her head cleared, and her heart rate started to return to normal, she reached for him. “What about you?”

  “As much as I would love to bend you over this ship and show you how wild you make me, I think they’ve probably waited long enough.”

  “Who’s waited long enough?”

  “Mandy and the other tributes.” He reached down and retrieved her shorts. “That’s actually why I came looking for you. They stopped by the suite to remind you about the party planning session.”

  Trista smacked her forehead and snatched the shorts from him. “Shit! The Christmas party. I totally forgot.”

  “I’m sure they’ll understand.”

  She hopped on one leg as she pulled on the shorts. “You don’t know Mandy. If I miss the meeting, I’ll get stuck working with Serge on color-coordinating streamers, or something else ridiculous.”

  Torven handed her the coveralls with a grin. “I still don’t understand this Christmas thing.”

  She stepped into the baggy suit and paused. “It used to be my favorite time of the year. I had a couple that weren’t so great, but there was something about hearing Christmas music and seeing lights on people’s houses that could always make me smile.”

  Torven tilted his head at her. “Lights on houses?”

  She fastened the coveralls and took a deep breath. “Even in some of the crappiest neighborhoods—and I lived in a bunch—people would put little string lights around the edges of their houses. Sometimes they blinked. Sometimes they didn’t. Some people only do white and some people are all about color. Honestly, I liked them all.”

  “Humans continue to fascinate me.”

  “Good thing for me.” Trista gave him a quick kiss before she backed away “Now wish me luck that Mandy doesn’t kill me.”

  Chapter Six

  Ella leaned back on the transparent chair in the design studio, rubbing the crick in her neck as she spotted her best friend True walking across the chic, high-ceilinged space, her shoes tapping on the hardwood floor. “You’re early.”

  The woman shook her head and her long, blonde hair swung behind her. “Actually, I’m not. You just lost track of time again. How long have you been staring at the screen?”

  Ella glanced down at the tablet. “No idea. Has it really been that long? I feel like I just got to Preston’s.”

  True sat down on another clear, wingback chair across from Ella, grinning at her friend. “Tell me something I don’t know. As soon as you start working, the world disappears around you.”

  Sighing, Ella ran a hand through her mass of dark curls. Her friend was right. It felt like she’d just arrived at the floral design studio where she worked as a holographic programmer, but she vaguely remembered her boss, Preston, saying something about going out for lunch, and that had been a while ago. “At least it isn’t as bad as when I was working on the military stuff. I definitely put in longer hours then.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  Ella reached for her almost-empty coffee tumbler and swirled the contents so she wouldn’t swallow a mouthful of dregs. “You mean, do I miss staring at data for hours, and worrying about making a mistake that might cost lives?”

  True shrugged. “It must be hard to go back to creating holographic wedding designs after working on a top-secret project that ended up rescuing a captured Drexian.”

  “You know I love working for Preston.” She knew that wasn’t really an answer, but she didn’t want to admit how much she missed working on military intelligence with a bunch of badass Drexian warriors. As much as she enjoyed working for the human designer, creating holographic sunsets and meteor showers for weddings wasn’t quite as rewarding as saving lives.

  True looked at her like she didn’t believe her, reminding Ella that the woman knew her pretty well, which meant she also knew when she was trying to fool herself. But it wasn’t like the Drexians were going to bring her onto their team permanently. She’d known the gig was temporary when she’d accepted it, and she’d been okay with that. Mostly.

  “Even if the military needed me again, I couldn’t abandon Preston,” Ella said, blinking as she looked around the studio—all exposed brick and modern furniture that looked more like a New York City loft than part of an alien space station. “Not when we’re about to get an influx of tribute brides.”

  True twirled a strand of pale hair around one finger. “Speaking of tributes, I’m not sure why you want me at this meeting. Everyone else is a tribute bride, right?”

  “Not everyone. Shreya’s another independent. Besides, the tributes aren’t so bad once you get to know them.” Ella took a sip of her now-cold coffee equivalent, wishing for the hundredth time that the Boat had real coffee.

  True cocked an eyebrow. “Someone’s changed their tune. You used to be pretty dismissive of the whole concept of tribute brides, and all the Earth women who went along with it.”

  Ella’s cheeks flushed and her gaze dropped to her tablet.

  “Of course, that was before you fell for your own Drexian warrior.” True craned her neck, as if looking for someone. “I’m surprised he isn’t here
.”

  “Here?” Ella laughed. “I don’t think Dakar wants to sit in on a meeting of tributes to plan a Christmas party.”

  True’s face brightened. “I do love the idea of celebrating Christmas. The party we tried to do in the independent section last year wasn’t great.”

  “It wasn’t bad,” Ella said, tapping her tablet’s screen. “But we didn’t have access to Drexian resources or technology. Now we do.”

  “And they’re really letting you use the holographic tech to create a giant Christmas tree in the promenade?” True cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the door she’d entered from, beyond which was the promenade—the hub of the station.

  Ella’s brow furrowed. “I just have to figure out how tall I can make it without interfering with the inclinators. You know they move using magnetic force.”

  True gave her friend a sideways glance. “And why would I know that?”

  Ella sighed. “It wouldn’t kill you to learn more about the Drexian tech, True. It’s pretty amazing, and you do enjoy using it, especially since I used my connections to get you time on the fancy officer holodecks.”

  True’s pale cheeks colored. “Oh. I meant to mention…thanks for the addition to my holodeck program.”

  “Your holodeck program?” Ella ran a hand through her wild mane of dark curls. “What do you—?”

  “Don’t kill me for being late!” The door flew open, and Mandy bustled inside, breathing heavily. Her chestnut-brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail, with damp tendrils curling around the nape of her neck. One arm was looped through Bridget’s, although the other woman didn’t seem nearly as harried.

  “I told you we wouldn’t be the last ones,” Bridget said, shaking her head as she was propelled across the room.