Striker
Page 6
He tugged his jacket off, then his shirt, ripping it into strips. Scooping up water from the stream with the leaf, he poured it over his wound. Red mixed with clear. He hissed with first the sting. A strange tingling, almost a fizzing sensation began deep within the wound. He hoped to hell it wasn't some strange bacteria. If he got back to the ship – when they got back to the ship – Arix, their medic, would have a job on his hands. He rinsed his leg until it ran clear, then he wound the strip around his thigh, covering the wound as best he could.
Vivien uttered a low moan and tossed her head from side to side. He wet another strip of his shirt, scooped up his pants and jacket and limped over to Vivien's prone form.
She was freezing cold all over. Colder than she was a few minutes ago. The fire was only doing so much. He needed to get her warm and fast. He carefully peeled off her jacket. He undid her belt, pulling it free. It was quite heavy, the multiple pockets filled with unidentified objects. Whatever she was doing when she was abducted, she'd gone prepared.
He unclipped her pants. He inwardly groaned. He had a thing for legs, and hers went all the way to heaven. He forced his mind off them, as well as the strip of lacy material that covered her womanhood, and unbuttoned her shirt to reveal a flat, toned stomach and breasts that were covered in a matching bra. The bra was as brief as her underpants, the tops spilled out in a delicious, finger-itching display.
She was lean all over. Toned muscle worked beneath soft, pink skin. Her bulky, masculine clothing hid a goddess. Even though she was tense with illness, it couldn't hide her beauty.
She was absolutely gorgeous.
Stunning.
Sexy as hell.
This time, he groaned out loud.
Another tremor wracked her body and kicked him into gear. What was he doing?! Hells, he should be ashamed of himself. He gathered her in his arms and lay behind her so she was sandwiched between him and the fire, trying to ignore how indescribably good she felt.
When she was better, she probably wasn't going to be anywhere interested in a bastard like himself.
Best to let that idea just slide off the face of consciousness.
Besides, now was definitely not the time to be thinking anywhere near along those lines.
He really was a bastard of the first order.
Her recovery should be his top propriety, not his dick. Besides wanting her to get better, there was still an unanswered mystery as to why the Reptiles abducted her in the first place. She was the key that could save billions. The human females had been handpicked for a reason, and that reason was bound to be important. She needed to live, not only for herself, but for the rest of the universe.
Violent tremors wracked her body. Perspiration rolled off her forehead. He pressed a cool strip of material to her forehead. Reaching for the pile of branches, he threw the largest one on top of the fire. Flames ignited and threw off a tremendous amount of heat. He tugged her close, her back to his chest, and wrapped his arms and legs around her body before arranging his jacket and some of the larger, dried leaves he'd found as a blanket over the both of them.
After a while, the tremors subsided until they were sporadic. That was when he relaxed a little, but when he started to relax, it emphasized how well she fit against his body. Just like she was made to be there. Her scent enveloped him. Apart from the recent sweat and grime of recent events, the sweet undertones that were uniquely hers infused into his senses, knocking him about and making him think about entirely inappropriate things. Again. He groaned, resting his head against the pallet, demanding his mind to think on other things than the woman in his arms.
Firelight crackled pleasantly, giving the blue leaves an orange tinge and drying out the humid air. He slowly relaxed against her body. Although his dick had other ideas and refused to calm down, he managed to ignore that too. He'd found a sanctuary, yes, but how long would that sanctuary last? He could only hope they would be safe until Vivien recovered.
Hopefully, he'd done enough.
Hopefully, the antidote from Lauren would work.
Hopefully… hopefully - too many hopefullys without a solid answer.
But at the moment - that was all he had.
Chapter Eight
Her senses slowly came back. She drifted through layers of dark semi-consciousness to the lighter layers on consciousness, filtered light, sound and sensation.
Her body was heavy. And hot. Almost too hot. There seemed to be some sort of electric blanket behind her, draped over every inch of her skin from the back of her head to her feet, which was strange because she'd never had an electric blanket in her life. She was also lying on something soft and rubbery that crinkled like parchment paper.
She peered about with no understanding of what she actually saw. She clinched her eyes shut for a moment and blinked them open again. Where were the pale grey walls of her bedroom? Her clothes strewn over the chair in the corner of her room? She wasn't in her room at all!
She drew a hard, fast breath and worked her way onto her elbow, eyes darting about. She was on a pile of what looked like blue leaves. And sand. Pale blue sand. She plunged her hand into it to make sure it was real, then noticed a narrow stream not too far away.
Blue and bright pink leaves were scattered over the floor, from which vines as thick as her thigh led up to the ceiling, seeming to come out from a centre point high above. Subdued lighting from thousands of pin lights illuminated the entire space.
Memory thundered back into her mind. This wasn't her bedroom. Not even her city.
Or even her planet.
She sat abruptly, throwing off a jacket and some dried-out leaves that had covered her. Cool, humid air immediately caressed her skin, prickling goose bumps. She was also practically naked. She crossed her arms over her breasts, for the first time in a long time feeling lost and helpless. It didn't sit well.
“Vivien? How are you feeling?”
She squeaked - squeaked! - spinning around. A blond man with ruffled, wavy hair came up onto his elbow, regarding her with concern. A naked blond man who looked entirely too good without clothes.
Words dried as her eyes wandered over a chest that never ended. He wasn't beefed up like a bodybuilder might be, but more trim and lean and in no way appeared less strong. Tan skin stretched over firm muscle that lead to chiseled abs and a spectacular triangle V of muscle that would lead to Heaven. Or hell. Depending on how you looked at it. Either way, he had a body only hours of fitness and working out would achieve.
Her throat closed over, and she forced her eyes off his delicious chest to focus on his face. He looked at her much the same way she looked at him. With intense hunger and awareness. She snatched the jacket and huddled behind it, feeling all too exposed and all too aware of both their state of undress.
“Did we… did I… what did we do?”
He reached for her as though to comfort her, but she blanched back. His hand dropped. “You've been ill, Vivien. Very ill. You were freezing. I had to keep you warm.” He frowned. The expression was familiar and brought with it the circumstances right up until they'd been found by those creatures. Monsters.
Reptiles.
“Striker,” she murmured, recent memories crowding back fast. “How did we get in here?” She glanced around the cave, her equilibrium unbalanced.
“I found the cave. This was…is…unexpected.” He glanced around, then back to her.
“It seems to be more than just a cave.” It was alive somehow. Maybe it was the never-ending display of twinkling lights, but it almost felt as though something in here was sentient. Watching her. “Are you sure we’re safe?”
He nodded. “Quite sure.”
She gazed into the darkest reaches of the space but didn’t detect anything other than a feeling that was slightly off. But then again, it could be her nerves that were beyond fried. She reached and felt behind her neck. The small wound was tender.
“The antidote worked.”
She peered up at him, her brain spinnin
g with what she saw. He had stood and reached for his pants. She couldn’t help staring at his perfectly proportioned, masculine behind hidden beneath black cotton underpants that looked like the boy-short style preferred by some men. There was no way a strip of black cloth could hide toned cheeks like those, though. They were chiseled to perfection. Firm, toned, nicely rounded.
As though he read her mind, he peered over his shoulder at her, a cocky smirk on his mouth. She knew that look on a man’s face. The look that knew women found him attractive and it wasn’t that much of a secret.
She quickly struggled into her clothes as quickly as she could, trying not to think too much about their sweaty and stained state. Although he joked about it, he seemed a decent enough person. After all, he’d saved her from the Reptiles when she’d all but fainted on him, then found the relative safety of this cave. The vulnerable position didn’t sit well.
“I should thank you, then. For saving my life.” Her voice was thin. She wasn't used to being saved. Just ask her team.
Former team. No longer because of her actions. She grit her teeth. She wasn’t going to go down that path. Not here. Not now. She ruthlessly shoved the thought aside and brought her attention back into the moment.
He dipped his head in acceptance. “It was my honour.”
She didn’t know what to do with that comment, so she handed him his jacket, “Here. This is yours.”
He nodded his thanks, shucked it over his shoulders. Her attention zeroed to the bandage wrapped around his muscular thigh.
“You were injured?”
“I was shot when we were attacked. It's nothing.”
She vaguely remembered arguing in the forest, then her memory entered a dream-like quality of fogginess. If she hadn’t of been so incapacitated, maybe he wouldn’t have been injured.
“It's not nothing. It looks painful to me. Come closer and let me take a look.”
“As I said, it's nothing.”
He moved to put on his pants, but her fingers curved around his wrist, stopping him. She glared up at him. “Listen, soldier. If you get sick with infection, I'm on my own. That’s not only dangerous, it's stupid, so get your head on straight and let me look.”
The expression on his face faltered and the smugness dropped, revealing a level of the man inside. The glow in his eyes intensified. He was so still, then realized what was so close to her fingers that had encircled his wrist.
Her eyelids fluttered down as she stared at the large bulge of his manhood, clearly evident beneath the material stretched tight over his groin. Just like the rest of him, it was…magnificent.
“My apologies.”
She jerked her hand away. She wasn't a prude. Had her fair share of boyfriends. Seen enough dick around the barracks to last a lifetime. But seeing his, even covered, was something altogether different.
It made her so aware of herself. How the leaves scrunched beneath her palm. How her lungs drew in air. How her skin tingled and she heated from the inside out. How her abdomen clenched and extremities tingled.
How she wanted to reach forward again, palm his cock through the material and stroke it from bottom to tip. To watch it thicken, feel it stiffen and then watch him come undone with her touch. The already impressive bulge grew firmer, with the clear shape of a thickening erection. She couldn't take her eyes off it. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as an internal coil started to constrict.
“I’m here if you want me.” His voice was warm whisky smoothed over gravel.
Something loosened in her gut, uncoiling in a slow, languid stretch. “In your dreams, soldier. I merely want to check your wound.”
His brow rose. “Are you sure you just want to check my wound?”
She huffed, a sound of exasperation. “Are you always like this?”
“Like what?” He offered her a puppy dog look she was sure had hundreds of women lined up for him.
A jolt of unexpected jealously shot through her, and she mentally grimaced. Maybe that poison did more than just render her physically unconscious, although she wondered what use a poison that targeted the libido could possibly achieve. And hers was certainly in a state of upheaval.
She pointedly looked to the bandage on his leg. “Your wound. If you don't mind.”
“As you wish.” He said the words, clearly meant as more, which she promptly ignored. Without waiting anymore, she unwound the bandage, doing her best to ignore the masculine bulge behind that very thin, brief covering of material.
Pull yourself together, Captain. This isn't a situation where you think you can go and have some quick fun. If you haven’t noticed, we're not on a resort, or holiday, or even day leave.
She had a job to do, and she needed to keep her mind on the mission.
She gasped out loud when the bandage fell free. The wound was an open gash. Blood oozed from the deep cut. The edges were blackened, as though they were burnt. He must be in so much pain, yet he'd cared for her. It seemed she had more to thank him for than just looking after her. He’d done it wounded. He also needed immediate medical attention. Or as best as she could provide under the circumstances.
“It needs to be cleaned.”
“I have done that.”
His mouth was pressed into a firm line, the edges white with tension. She silently admonished herself. He was in pain, and all she'd been thinking about was his dick.
“I think it needs to be done again. I'll help you get to the water, and we'll wash it out.”
“That isn't necessary…” Gone was the cavalier attitude, replaced by a man who didn’t want to appear weak.
“Just like it wasn't necessary for you to help me when I was out of it and you helped me. What's good for the goose is good for the gander, soldier.” She stood on shaky legs, determination keeping her upright, and grabbed his hand. She was weak, and she didn’t like feeling this way. It left her too open to mistakes. And reliance on another person. “Come on, get your arse down to the water. We'll worry about parasites later.”
“What's a goose and gander?”
A genuine look of confusion crossed his features. And he didn't move. She sighed and said, “It's just a saying. Not a delay tactic.”
She manoeuvred herself beneath his shoulder. A reluctant arm wound around the back of her shoulders before he started limping to the water. She hadn't realized how tall he actually was, but with a strong arm thrown around her shoulders, his near naked chest pressed against her shoulder, the heat from his skin searing though her shirt, she'd never felt so… feminine. Delicate. That feeling was entirely foreign.
“I’ve tested the water. It is clean,” he said.
She positioned him next to the water and sat him on the sand, faintly surprised he complied so easily, the only sound he uttered was a hiss when he stretched his leg. “How could you have done that?”
He held his wrist. “The Seeker is very helpful.”
She glanced at the water. It ran clean and clear over a sandy bottom. A perfect natural filtration system, despite what the Seeker had registered. “Well, thank heavens for small mercies.” Besides, she'd be feeling the effects if there was something in the water if he’d given it to her. Seems like they'd struck a break. After recent events, it was a small miracle.
She cupped water in her hands, blinking her surprise. “It's warm!”
He nodded. “And refreshing.”
She licked her lips, regarding the water. She'd love nothing more than to ditch her clothes and wash off the stickiness of her skin.
“I think it would be safe to bathe in. If you're interested, I'll give you some privacy.”
She glanced up at him. Became entangled in his gaze. He was so serious. Intent. Entirely focused on her.
“What, no offer to join me?” Where had that come from? It was like she was flirting, and she’d never flirted in her life.
His mouth stretched into that cocky grin again. “If you wish, I will accompany you.”
He was exasperating, but she had t
o admit, she liked the banter. A part of her was grateful he was doing it, even if it was to take her mind off their situation. “Not this time, stud. We’ll take a rain-check.” At his confused expression, she offered, “Maybe later.” She sighed, then said, “Let’s get your wound cleaned first.”
He inclined his head and positioned his leg within her reach, yet she still caught the clench of his jaw and tightening around his mouth that told her he was in pain.
His consideration surprised her. He was going out of his way to put her at ease, as well as putting her physical needs above his. She really wasn't used to that sort of attention. Didn't know what to do with it. So, she did what she did best when she didn't know how to process this type of stuff and pushed it to that part of her mind that took care of wayward emotions and locked it in that box that seemed to be getting alarmingly full of late. The box that had a huge note on it that said, 'Unwanted and unnecessary'.
As hard as she tried to pry the lid open, it stayed shut. Why, of all times in all places, was the box suddenly not opening?
Chapter Nine
Vivien scooped up some water and poured it over his wound. Her fingers were long and delicate, and it had been forever since he'd noticed anything like that about a woman. He mentally cringed, hating to admit usually his thoughts were a lot more basic. He welcomed the tingling that pricked like pins and needles as the water washed over his wound. Yet, she refused to look him in the eyes. Or utter a word.
“Vivien?”
“You’re lucky. The wound doesn't look infected.”
Still hurt like a bitch, but he wasn't going to voice that. It didn't matter because there wasn't anything that could be done about it if it was. What he could do was work out why she'd shut down.
“As I said, it will be fine.”
“It needs to be rebandaged. You used your shirt? Do you have more strips?”