Rogue Stars

by C Gockel et al.

  He let go of her long enough to shake the sleeve off. This left the shirt hanging on nothing but his other wrist, which still grasped her leg firmly on his hip. His hand returned to snake up her stomach, her own shirt bunching in its wake.

  “It’s up some stairs….” The words vibrated on her collarbone as his tongue teased along it.

  She gave a ragged laugh and dragged her other leg free to coax him toward the remaining stairs by nothing more than the threat of physical separation. His shirt fell unnoticed to the landing as hers disappeared over her head.

  Support had been woven into her top, and their chests were now skin-on-skin. The sensation of his chest pressed to hers was…was…‘pleasant’ was clearly too weak a word. A pittance to describe a treasure.

  She cursed having to divert a miniscule portion of her attention to feel her way up the stairway backwards. A few more stairs. Only a few mo— her legs weakened as his thumb ran over then lingered upon a nipple, and she sank down short of the bedroom landing.

  The tiny corner of her brain which managed to continue functioning at a minimal level of rationality noted his hand slid behind her head before it hit the top stair to take the jarring blow for her. Later, she should think about what a shocking act of kindness and sacrifice it was. Yup, lat—

  —his mouth was on her left breast and his tongue was swirling around the nipple, suckling it right to the edge of pain while a thumb teased the other, and she thought her eyes probably rolled back in her head.

  “Yebat’sya mne….”

  His lips ghosted down her chest toward her navel with a throaty chuckle. “It would be my genuine pleasure.”

  The words fluttered over her skin to send a fierce shiver coursing through her, though his accent now rolled so alluringly thick she could barely understand him at all. She didn’t care and oh how she wanted him to keep going…. Her spine arched, begging for him to keep going, but her fingernails scratched up his back and tugged him up to her until his mouth again crushed hers.

  He was acting as if he was the one in control, yet happy to indulge her every request. She considered making a mental note for possible future reference, but got horribly distracted by his tongue halfway through.

  In a supreme act of will she slid up the final two stairs and shakily stood with him.

  Instantly her hands dropped to his waist and yanked the drawstring loose; the pants fell to the floor unaided. She tried to pull his naked form to her, but his hands were in the way, busy sliding her own pants over her hips. Hers were snugger and clingy and she wasted two precious seconds shimmying them and her underwear together to the floor.

  Finally there existed nothing between them. For a perfect moment he held her next to him. She could feel every long, taut muscle, his racing heartbeat reverberating beneath his skin. She’d never known his pulse to race. He was so warm. It felt sublime and luscious and laced with an unexpected throbbing in her chest.

  She looked up—it wasn’t far, he wasn’t terribly much taller than her—and willingly fell into the ocean of his eyes.

  The back of her knees hit the bed. She curled one leg up and sank onto it, bringing him with her as if they were one.

  With astonishing gentleness he slipped inside her, and they were.

  She wondered if her eyes widened as much as his did, lips a mere centimeter apart, her hands clutching his face and his clutching hers.

  “Jesus, you—”

  Her mouth smothered his as she scraped a hand down his back and drew him all the way into her. The momentary tenderness melted, burnt away by the scorching passion which flared.

  She thought she must have been with someone who was more beautifully passionate, more naturally in sync with her every movement and desire, who more perfectly fit within and around and against her, and later she would doubtless recall who it might have been. But damned if she could think of anyone now.

  She arched into his grasp to meet his movements…on second thought, it suddenly seemed impossible there ever could have been.

  At some point his arms coiled around her and he rose up to rest on his heels as her full weight slid down over him. Oh my god….

  Her fingers wound fiercely in his hair while the other hand ran along his back as her legs wrapped to envelop him. His hands mirrored hers, until one settled on her hip. It began to smoothly guide her, yet he let her set the pace…and the last remnants of the outside world, of time passing at all, blurred out of existence.

  Her lips hovered a whisper apart from his, every so often connecting for a fervent yet somehow gentle kiss, as they exchanged the air necessary to continue living and feeling and experiencing this. Gradually the pressure began to intensify within her until she feared she would surely shatter—

  —she buried her face into his neck and screamed, every measure of her tightening around him in a tidal wave of ecstasy.

  Then she was falling back onto the bed and he was consuming her with a fervency and passion absolutely like nothing she had ever felt. His body was fire on her skin, his breath desperate in her ear, his hands everywhere and—

  —she gasped into his shoulder as he carried her with him on his own torrent of ecstasy. His face was tangled in her hair and his arms had encircled her to hold her against him as if she was the only lifeline he possessed, but it was okay because his embrace was warm and wonderful and….

  By the time she remembered how to breathe, he was planting feather-light kisses along her cheek, across her jaw and down her neck. Her eyes slowly focused to find him gazing at her, wearing an expression of…unfettered, almost innocent pleasure. It was so striking her newly found breath caught in her throat.

  After untold moments—hours, days—he rolled them both onto their sides. They lay facing one another, panting slightly but grinning like fools.

  She giggled devilishly. “You shouldn’t have kissed me in the confinement cell.”

  “Yes, I quite clearly should have.”

  Her head shook minutely; it was all she was able to manage in his embrace. “No, you shouldn’t have. You should have kissed me on the ship night before last.”

  He responded with a winded laugh. “You say that now, but if I had then, I might still be tied up on the ship.”

  His accent had again faded, she noticed in some disappointment. “You said I wouldn’t be able to get you back in the restraints.”

  “I did, but that was before I knew you. Now, I’m not so sure.” He kissed her, long and slow, then sighed in contentment and rolled the rest of the way onto his back. “This is going to be complicated, you know.”

  She propped up on an elbow and regarded him curiously. “What is? I assumed this was merely a one-time stress reliever, or maybe a ‘thank you’ for getting you out of confinement.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched, as if uncertain of which direction to curve. A shadow passed through his eyes as they darted to her then away, darkening them to the color of the ocean depths where no light reached.

  She quickly smiled, broadly enough to get his attention. “And the look in your eyes tells me it isn’t.”

  His face scrunched up in disbelief as realization dawned. “I thought I was supposed to be the devious one.”

  “Oh, you are, you are.” She placed a soft kiss on his lips; he didn’t respond. She pulled back to meet his gaze. “Forgive me for being wary.”

  A chuckle escaped his throat, but it had a sharp, pained edge to it, reinforced by the shadow lingering in his expression. “You still don’t trust me.”

  She coaxed his eyes to meet hers. “I trust you with my life.” And she did. She kissed him more deeply, and after a pause this time he did respond.

  I just don’t know if I trust you with my heart.

  It was several relatively blissful minutes later when he sank into the bed and she settled onto her stomach beside him. “So about this ‘complicated’ part….”

  “I’m from Seneca, you’re from Earth. We’re practically Romeo and Juliet.”

  “N
ah, as I remember it Romeo and Juliet gave a damn what everyone else thought. Hell, we’ve got more pressing concerns anyway. The galaxy has embroiled itself in an idiotic, pointless war, and any day now a massive alien force is going to show up and crash the party.”

  She groaned and rolled over to glare at the ceiling. “And even if we get somebody to listen, who says we’ll be able to counter them? I have a sneaking suspicion their weapons will be a tad more powerful than ours.”

  His fingers drew idle circles along her stomach, tickling the damp skin and momentarily drawing her into the rather pleasurable present…but only momentarily. “Maybe if we presented a united front—but no, instead we’re busy blowing up the ships and weapons and defenses we’ll need to fight the aliens on each other.”

  At the sobering reality they both fell quiet for a while. Finally she took a deep breath and exhaled audibly to break the silence. “So I was thinking. We should go to Pyxis. I know it’s a bit far, but it’s the closest independent world to Seneca other than Pandora, which I’d really prefer to avoid. You can leave from there and hopefully find a way for your government to end this war, since we failed so impressively here.”

  He rose up on one arm to stare at her. “Come to Seneca with me. You can explain the Metis data better than I can and help convince them of the severity of the problem. Like you said, two voices are better than one.”

  “Oh, you’re not seriously going to use that argument on me now?”

  “What? Other considerations aside, it isn’t a bad point, and we need every advantage we can get.”

  She flinched and rolled away. “I don’t…I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “It’ll be fine. I promise you won’t get arrested.”

  “Yes, because your government is a pillar of right and justice and good.”

  “Of course not. It just so happens you’re not an enemy combatant.”

  Why couldn’t he let it go for the moment? Give her a little time to come to grips with the idea? A few hours earlier she had been defending the Senecans to her mother and the Board. Now she was recoiling at the notion of visiting their damn planet, as though it was somehow a corporeal evil all its own. Which of course it wasn’t, but….

  “I said I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

  He exhaled in obvious frustration. “Come on. Help me make them listen.”

  She refused to meet his gaze this time. Goddammit. “I need to take a shower.” She started to get up, but he reached out and grabbed ahold of her arm.

  “Look, I know you hold no particular love for Seneca or its government. I know you blame them for your father’s death. I get that, I do. But I also know you want—”

  Stop! Stop acting as if you can stare into my soul so easily! The detached, untethered sensation washed over her once again. She had thought perhaps she might hold onto him as an anchor, but now he was pushing and prodding and behaving as if it were all so simple…she yanked her arm out of his grasp.

  “You think a week together and a quick roll in the sack means you know me? I realize you’re cocky, but please. You don’t know the first thing about me.”

  She shot him a withering glare and stalked off to the bath, lightheaded to the point of dizziness from whiplashing emotions. No, it wasn’t simple at all.

  Caleb banged his head against the bedcovers. In a rush of frustration he grabbed a pillow and threw it angrily across the room; it bounced ineffectually off the wall and tumbled gently to the floor.

  With a harsh, bitter breath he squeezed his eyes shut…then climbed off the bed and collected his clothes from the laundry port. He’d steal a skycar from one of the residents and get to the spaceport. He’d use another ID to catch a transport to Pandora or Romane.

  Two hours and he’d be gone.

  After all, his mission was complete, if a failure in the purest sense of the term. The war had everyone spinning in circles chasing their tails, but he was determined to make Division, the government, the military and whoever else mattered understand they had been fooled. They were wasting precious time and resources on the wrong target, when the true threat loomed hidden on the horizon.

  He pulled on his shoes and headed down the stairs. There were things he needed to do, and they did not involve getting entangled with an Alliance Admiral’s daughter in the middle of a war and impending alien invasion…even if the peculiar tightness in his chest proclaimed otherwise.

  He had done everything in his power to get her to trust him; done everything her way even when it went against his better instincts. That path had taken him away from where he needed to be, put Senecan citizens at greater risk and gotten him arrested and imprisoned. True, it had also gotten him outstandingly laid—only to be turned on in a fit of spiteful anger he did not deserve.

  Dammit she was infuriating! And bullheaded stubborn. Quick to flare in temper. Ridiculously private and emotionally closed-off—

  He felt his attention drawn to the wall of spacescapes once more, found himself pausing in front of the panorama.

  She had somehow managed to capture in frozen images the sense of wonder and awe one experienced in deep space. The vastness and the beauty. It was as if he was looking into space through her eyes, seeing it as she must see it…and thus glimpsing a mirror into her soul.

  —also intriguing, even captivating. Exceedingly talented, capable and independent. Fiercely determined and unafraid. Vulnerable and strong in equal measure. A damn revelation in bed. All in all, kind of remarkable.

  His gaze rose to the balcony above. Never have anything you can’t walk away from. Especially a woman.

  “Shit.”

  He grimaced and dragged a hand down his face…and went back upstairs, dropping his clothes in a trail across the floor to the door of the bath.

  She stood in the shower, eyes closed and head bowed as the water cascaded over her. Before she realized he was there, he had slipped inside.

  Her irises flared in outrage, sparking a pure bright silver. He thought there may have been a glint of tears in them…but it may have just been the falling water.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Invading your privacy. Sorry, I didn’t want you to have any more time to get angrier at me.”

  She shoved him into the glass. “How dare you! Get out—”

  He smiled, ignoring her attempts to extricate him from the shower. “Listen, you’re right—I don’t know you, not really. But I’d very much like to, if you’ll allow me.”

  She stared at him furiously, but at least she stopped trying to shove him out. Her features could be so expressive when the mask fell away. He saw anger, then suspicion, confusion, doubt and perhaps even fear in the shadows crossing her face, in the quirking of her lovely mouth. He wondered what his own eyes were showing her, and whether it was more than he wanted to reveal. Ah well, too late now.

  He recognized the softening in her expression before it manifested in the relaxing of her shoulders and dropping of her chin. It took another several seconds for her to roll her eyes in exasperation and step forward to rest her forehead on his.

  “You’re infuriating—and entirely too clever for your own good. You know this, right?”

  He chuckled lightly and reached up to run fingers through her soaking wet hair. “Back at you.”

  Her face tilted up and supple, moist lips met his. Hesitant, tender, gentle. She tasted of warm spice, like nutmeg in mulled cider. Her skin had felt amazingly smooth earlier; here, softened by the steam of the shower, it was silk beneath his hands.

  One arm coiled around her until his palm came to rest at the small of her back. Her body was quite slender; he would have called it delicate but for the long, lithe muscles gracing her frame. It reminded him of a dancer’s body, though after watching her spend three days repairing her ship he knew the work which had actually shaped it.

  Her hand in his hair tightened, the other grasped his hip and in a flash any hesitancy in her kiss vanished. Urgency was bleeding out of her and int
o him, and he gathered her fully into his arms as desire battled with and quickly overcame sentiment.

  The water flooded over them as he pressed her to the opposite wall. His hand slipped along wet, soapy skin, desperately seeking her toned thigh. He gripped her leg and coaxed it up to his hip…then he was engulfed within her.

  She gasped in response but pulled him yet closer and deeper. Demanding, needing all he had to give. As before, she was a force of nature, a whirlwind to which he could do little more than hang on for dear life. The spirit, the fire he had first witnessed in the hold of her ship blazed to life in his arms.

  Still, he tried to draw it out, to tease her and prolong her pleasure, and his. But she was so damn intoxicating and it was all so overpowering—the deluge of water enveloping them, the steam filling the air, the silk of her skin pressed to his and the incredible, perfect heat within her. The look of wild abandon in her eyes was like staring into a nova at the moment of its explosion.

  She clenched around him, her eyes squeezed shut—and he let himself go, following her over the edge into the rapturous abyss.

  They very nearly tumbled to the shower floor as they lost control of everything…bodies, thought, breath, time and space. He fell deeper into her as his legs threatened to collapse beneath him.

  An aeon passed before the world began to regain detail and, eventually, clarity. His lips had found hers, and she grinned into them. “Less than an hour and we’ve already had our first make-up sex.”

  He laughed haltingly, still struggling to catch his breath. Reasonably confident in his legs’ capability to now marginally support him, he leaned back enough to gaze at her.

  “It isn’t going to be boring, is it?”

  He was leaning against the windows and contemplating the wall of spacescapes—again—when she descended the stairs.

  Alex frowned to herself. Either he was playing at manipulating her on such a deep and meaningful level as to be reprehensible…or he was like her in such a deep and meaningful way as to be extraordinary. She was a bit shocked to realize how much she wanted to believe it was the latter, and how terrified she was it could be the former.