by L. V. Lane
Ignoring me, she reached for the clip of her helmet, and pulled it from her head. It hit the sodden ground with a dull clatter.
As I stared at the helmet, my frown deepened.
“I don’t want to talk,” she said.
Our eyes met. There was so much raw hurt there that it made my breath catch painfully in my chest.
The air around us seemed to charge. So much had changed, with us, with our lives, and yet, it was like we were back in the office on Nammu, and some things were exactly the same.
Stepping up to me, she grabbed hold of my collar in a surprisingly strong grip and pulled my head down to hers.
The first press of her lips against mine was heaven. I was a starved man presented with a feast. Our hands reached in an uncoordinated clamor. Shell armor came free piece by piece, dropping to the forest floor.
Underneath her armor was a microfiber vest. I ripped it over her head, ignoring her searching fingers that were battling with the lower part of my suit. My lips found her throat, pressing increasingly erratic kisses downward until I reached her breast, and sucking half of it into my mouth.
The sound she made was like a shot of raw need hitting my dick and swelling it to the point of urgent pain.
“Please, hurry!” She tugged at my sodden microfiber vest—I paused to rip it off. “Please, hurry.”
I lifted her up, one arm under her ass, and slammed her back against the tree.
“Please!”
“Fuck me, you’re impatient!” I wasn’t even sure why I was complaining when I wanted to sink into her pussy more than I wanted the next breath.
Her legs wrapped around me, and we both groaned as I slammed home.
“Ohmygod! Yes!”
I shifted, getting a better hold. We were both soaked and it made everything slippery. Her lips pressed against my throat, kissing and sucking sharply as I tried to get my breath. I pulled out and slammed deep before setting a pounding pace. She moaned, biting hard against my throat.
The resulting shot of pain went through some kind of cross-wiring and drove an imperative to fuck her even harder. Ramming deep, I held still as I grabbed a handful of hair and ripped her head away. “Don’t bite, you little hellion!” This was a terrible idea on so many levels. What the fuck was I thinking?
“Why are you stopping?” She looked at me through half-lidded eyes, her breath coming out on a pant. Maintaining eye contact, she bit her lip as her inner muscles squeezed over my cock.
“Fuck,” I muttered. My hips began to move, and she made those sweet little groans that shattered the last of my control.
“Please, don’t stop,” she said. Her lips were against my throat again, nipping too hard to be considered playful. I didn’t even care. “God, I’m going to come.”
And she did. Hot pussy fisting my cock in a way that demanded I follow her through.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Eva
IT WAS EARLY morning and blowing a gale outside my tent. It made a change from rain, I supposed, and presented new and interesting difficulties since the camp was now being pelted by leaves, twigs, and branches of every conceivable size. On a positive note, the birds, which could normally screech up a storm at this time of day, were blessedly silent.
Being on my own had never bothered me before the Brent incident. It bothered me now. So I took it as a blessing in many ways that Landon had stayed the night with me. We hadn’t slept much. There had been a lot of intimacy, and little talking.
I was glad there was only a little talking. I wasn’t ready to reveal things yet. And besides, this was yet too tentative to know what it meant. I was hopeful though, that my prediction was finally coming to bear.
“Damn, I’m so hungry I could gnaw my own arm off,” Landon said.
I squealed when his teeth sank into my arm.
“Don’t squeal like that,” he said. “It’s early. I’d like to get out of here without the whole camp knowing about it.”
“It’s already daylight.” I pushed Landon away and inspected my arm critically in the poor light.
“Some enthusiastic colonist—probably Marik—will be up and about, I guarantee it.” He sighed when I continued to study my arm. Turning away, he rummaged about in his shell armor lying beside the pallet bed. When he turned back, there was a slim, gray field-use medical scanner in his hand. He tapped the screen, and light illuminated my skin. “See, not even a hint of damage, apart from where your fingers are poking and pulling it about.”
Okay, maybe I’d overreacted.
“A confirmation that you’re not about to press assault charges from the chatty version of you would be nice about now,” he continued.
I blew out a puff of breath. “Who am I going to report you to?”
He grinned. “Good point.” Catching hold of my arm, he proceeded to fake gnaw it.
Biting back another squeal of laughter, I tried to push him off. Given he was twice my weight and a large percent of it was muscle, it didn’t get me very far. I wasn’t ready for this playful version of him. He continued on to other areas while making the fake gnawing noises.
“Landon!”
We both froze at the muffled call from outside the tent.
Landon lifted his head. Quietly cursed and then called, “Marik, I’ll be out in five minutes.”
I clamped my hand over my mouth to smother my laugh. Knowing Marik, he had probably just won a bet.
Landon pulled my hand away from my mouth and kissed me before snatching up his clothes. “I better go, because I really am ravenous.”
As he dressed, I rummaged in my meager store before presenting him with an energy bar.
He raised an eyebrow and grimaced. “Did you steal this?”
“I consider it payback for making me work in the stores.” My usual tendency to imperiousness had been suppressed in my quest for an elusive future prediction, and it was a pleasure to let a little of it back out.
“Now, there’s the Eva we all know and love.”
Love? Why did my stomach clench when he used that word even though it was flippant?
He took the proffered item without hesitation. “You know, I threatened anyone caught with hidden rations with corporal punishment.” He tucked it into his pocket.
The blood drained from my face before I caught his smirk and relaxed… Then I realized he was telling the truth.
He ducked out of the tent, calling back over his shoulder, “Yes, I was telling the truth.”
Tired, I may be, but for the first time since I’d arrived on Serenity, I felt a sense of lightness, and of possibility.
I readied myself for my day and my first meeting with Doctor Sull. Deception wasn’t one of my primary skills. It wasn’t a secondary skill either, but despite my lack of practice in the reprehensible art, my interactions with the psychologist were awash with artifice. On the surface, I was coping with my foray into subterfuge. No new predictions had been revealed recently, but each subsequent meeting solidified my firm belief that my decision to hide my predictive capability was the right one.
Exiting my tent, I trudged through the camp past Landon’s ‘office’—the transport I’d made my dramatic Serenity landing on. A small, fat, rodent bounded past me at lightning speed. Given rationing remained in place and appeared likely to do so until the second ship arrived, I failed to see how the critter could find useful scraps. Still, the constant movement of people to and from the site, coupled with the vast sprawling nature of the camp itself was doubtlessly disruptive to the wildlife. There had even been several reported animal attacks during daylight. I would be more cautious myself after that encounter with the huge golden-eyed cat at the edge of the chasm.
The abhorrent weather, coupled with the rationing, the increasing animal attacks, and the hard, physical work were all taking their toll on mood. The colonists were tired and cranky, and tempers often flared. Physical altercations had even occurred. The prevalence of danger was a new and unpleasant experience. I wasn’t innocent to th
e world. As a predictive, I was all too aware of people’s immorality. But I had previously been insulated from it, watching from a distance and engaging only under the protective banner of my lofty status.
I’d taken to avoiding people. When I wasn’t tagging crates, I was being questioned by Doctor Shenson. The few women I considered friends were off limits to me at the psychologist’s request, and now that Landon had caught me at the perilous outcropping, my last pleasure had been denied.
Well, not the last, but close.
An internal battle was also taking place amid this backdrop of subtle and not so subtle conflict, and I fluctuated wildly between unwavering self-belief and crippling self-doubts. At times, chagrin consumed me that they should dare to treat me in this way, and at times, I wanted nothing more to do with prediction ever again.
This newly acquired neurosis was masked behind a placid facade of amiability, which I thought was working well. The old me was never sweet or amiable. The new me wasn’t sweet or amiable either, but I had become well versed in faking it.
For the most part, my mandated separation from the other colonists and their troubles saved me from unduly testing my acting prowess. Before the sedation incident, avoidance had been a coping mechanism to prevent predictive overload, but my current predicament was working well since I wanted to focus every facet of my intellect on the doctor who continued to question me twice a day. The doctor’s actions were complex, and I was determined to uncover the nefarious reasons lurking beneath her fake smiles and gentle encouraging words.
Until I had a conclusive future prediction, I must continue to bide my time.
I did a double take spotting Eric heading toward the battered transport talking to Marik, who was grinning. Hopefully, it was nothing to do with him catching Landon in my tent. I cast a swift glance around the area, but there was, thankfully, no sign of Landon.
Recently, I came to be excited when Eric stopped for a chat, but not today. I didn’t want to explain myself to Eric, or anyone for that matter.
Eric lifted a hand in greeting when I was about to bolt for the path toward Shenson’s transport. My sigh was one of irritation as I waited for him to finish his conversation with Marik. He had sent a message yesterday to say he was leaving again. Not that I had seen a great deal of Eric recently given there were so many satellite camps.
“You get my message? Orders changed,” he said. “I’ll be based here for a while.” He was grubby and hadn’t shaved in days, which had turned him into a bit of a furry freak. He frowned and rubbed his chin. “It’s just a beard, nothing died on my face.”
I laughed despite myself, which earned me a raised eyebrow.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
I knew he was asking a deeper question and I looked away. “I’m fine. Busy tagging supplies.” It was hard to keep the sarcasm out of my tone.
“That good, huh? I’ll have Landon check in on you next time I’m away.”
“No, thank you!” A hint of my former testy personality popped out and Eric grinned back.
“So, did Landon find you at the outcropping yesterday? I was looking for you when I bumped into Landon.” He smirked. “Figured you’d get a roasting when he found you.”
So that was how Landon had found me. “I think Landon’s angry with me,” I blurted out. As deflections go, it was tenuous, but now I had mentioned it, he did seem grumpy at the time.
“Never seen Landon angry in my life and trust me, we’ve been through some bullshit operations together.” Eric grinned again. “Although, I do admit you have a testing personality. What makes you think he was angry?”
The old me would have been irked by Eric’s teasing, but I found an unexpected comfort in his normality toward me.
I shrugged. “He seemed different.”
Eric’s face softened. It wasn’t a look I got often from him, and cold weight settled in my chest. Everyone believed I would never predict. They were putting on a brave face, or worse, avoiding me. The thought of Eric, who was the least empathetic person I knew, feeling empathy toward me nearly undid me. He loved me, I realized. I had been mean to him my whole life, looked down on him because he was different to me, and treated his teasing with contempt. How could I have been so blind?
“Thank you.” I pressed my fingers against his furry cheek.
He pulled me into a crushing hug. “You’re going to be okay,” he said gruffly.
For a split second, a connection to my lost parents blossomed. I still had a part of my family here with me where so many others didn’t. “I know.” I pulled back and rubbed the dampness from my cheeks.
“Is that a prediction?” His earnest question pressed upon the open wound.
I gave my head a little shake. “Just a feeling.”
“Feelings are good, right?” he asked.
“Yes.” I agreed. “Very good.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Landon
UNCLIPPING MY SHELL armor, I discarded the dripping item on the floor of my room—a windowless cargo pod on the last transport fated to escape the colony ship, and which had crashed so spectacularly into a tree. It had been hot and windy for a week, but today had dumped a backlog of rain.
A pallet bed lay along one wall, and on the other side, a makeshift rack held clothing ranging from wet, to semi-dry, to dry. I was a fastidiously tidy person by nature, my mother would have stood for nothing less. Even when I left home, the military had instilled the same discipline. Sleeping in a bare titaliua cargo pod had brought its share of challenges, but it was as neat as could be managed within the bounds of that scope.
The lighting panel on the ceiling blinked and then gave out. I thumped the wall next to the room’s control panel and it blinked back to life. The whole thing was hanging on by a thread, and while the transport power cell should have decades of life left, much of the functioning had become ropy since the crash. I’d had to hack the door open manually several times and kept an arm length piece of wreckage to the left of the door to help me pry it open when the power faltered.
I ought to worry more about getting stuck in here, but the chance of being trapped uninterrupted was more of a fantasy than a fear. Well, apart from that one time… and that was only because I’d been freezing.
A pounding resounded on the door. “A few minutes would be nice,” I muttered to myself, and ignoring the pounding, stripped out of my wet under clothes.
More pounding, and then a crack appeared and Marik peered in at me. “Sorry, boss.” Another person might have backed away, but Marik had no concept of personal space or boundaries. We’d had several discussions on the topic.
I glared at him as I dragged dry fatigues on. “I recall privacy used to be a thing.”
“I thought you were stuck again when you didn’t answer.” Marik proceeded to further widen the gap as I clipped my fatigues shut.
“No, I was simply ignoring you.”
“Ha! Good one.” Marik wedged his shoulders between the door and the frame to keep it open. The end of a metallic rod in his hand propped against my shoulder. “Eric’s out front. Got Riley and Jax with him.”
I paused in the act of strapping my handgun back on—Riley and Jax had nothing in common other than their relationship with Eva.
“Can’t figure out what her interest is myself,” Marik continued, the top of the rod tapping erratically against his shoulder.
“Who, Riley?” I was only half listening. I was trying to think of a plausible explanation for them being brought to me.
“No, Jax. I know Riley’s former Federation, but she’s cool, you know.” Marik grinned.
I raised an eyebrow—I didn’t think Marik was a gossip, but he had found me in Eva’s tent outside office hours so to speak. I dragged my boots on, walked over to the door, and then tapped the control panel. As the door sprung open, I ushered Marik out.
I remembered the heady days when I’d luxuriated in my own office. The flight deck had become my office, and the accompanying cargo
area, like my room, was treated by everyone as ‘available’. Eric stood to my right with Jax reeking attitude on one side, and the waif-like Riley on the other. To the left, a cluster of five engineers had commandeered it for an impromptu meeting. Lai and Arden were rifling through the stowage containers toward the back. “Out,” I snapped.
Everyone paused to look at me and then each other. None of them left.
I remembered a time when people just followed my orders. “Everyone but Eric, Riley, and Jax, out, now.”
They jumped this time and with only the occasional disgruntled glare, made their way out. Except for Marik, who shuffled about near the door, tapping the damn rod to a manic beat as if hoping I might relent and let him stay.
I pointed at the door. “Outside, and make sure no one comes in.”
With reluctance dripping from every facet of his demeanor, Marik left.
Turning back to Eric, I asked, “How can I help?”
“It’s got out of hand,” Eric said cryptically.
“‘It’?” I probed. We had lost the bloody drone, which I was still pissed about. Our food stocks were desperate, which everyone was pissed about. We were sitting in the literal jaws of hell in this camp, had more shit to deal with than there were hours in a Serenity day, and they brought this—emotional wrangling to my door. Still, given this was Riley and Jax, both of whom were level-headed, I failed to see what this pressing problem could be.
Eric wiped a hand down his face. “She’s my sister—I’m not very objective.”
I was still none the wiser. After my ‘discussion’ with Eva where we hadn’t ‘discussed’ a thing, I thought my involvement in anything relating to Eva to be a complication we could all do without. I quashed my own conflict of interest since someone had to resolve this. “What’s happened?”
“He’s following me.” Riley stabbed an accusing finger at Jax, who flushed and glared back. “You can’t be following me.”
“I wasn’t following you, dickhead,” Jax bit out. “Eva asked me to look out for you. If anything happens to you, she’ll be pissed at me so get over it.”
