IGO: Sudden Snow

by Blue, RaeLynn

  As if granting his unspoken wish, the A.I. announced, “Lower level recreation.”

  “That’s generic for what is all down here,” Sergeant Snow said. “We’re a small crew and an equally small commons. So, follow me.”

  Anywhere. Instead, Cricket said, “Lead on.”

  Her libido was too revved up to go to her quarters. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate on any task presented to her. Five years of forced celibacy worked well for keeping her focused on her project, data, and goals. Clarity came easily when not muddled with emotions. No distractions.

  But Sergeant Snow’s tight backside, delectable as a wedge of apple, was a serious distraction. Her body sang with carnal cravings, rumbling across her clit and her lower abdomen. She had to shove her hands into her pockets to stop herself from touching him. He didn’t appear to be touchable, let alone sense the images sprouting in her mind. Straight-laced and rigid, Sergeant Snow came off as stern as a commander. It surprised Cricket that he wasn’t a commander already.

  The noise came before she saw the common’s main entrance and snagged her attention. “See, you’re not the only one in need of some unwinding,” he said, slowing down so she nearly collided with him. “There’s a good crew in there.”

  Cricket’s stomach clutched hard enough for her to groan. She didn’t want coffee. She wanted him, and in the worst way possible. Moreover, she didn’t want to be in a loud, boisterous room with a lot of strangers. Dizziness rushed forward and she staggered to the wall and braced herself. Fear gripped her and she shook her head, trying to settle down. She wasn’t interested in mingling with the crew. Tears burned in her eyes and she swallowed the tightness in her throat. Mars, I can’t do this. “Sergeant Snow, I -- I’m sorry…”

  He turned to her, puzzlement rippling across his face. His eyes narrowed in concern as he trotted over to her.

  I’ve got to get some control over my emotions! I -- I want him, but my projects, my life… A sob escaped her throat. Too late!

  He reached for her, hesitated and then touched her arm. “Dr. Moore, are you all right?” he asked gently, a shock to Cricket. “Dr. Moore?”

  His hazel eyes searched hers. He must’ve seen the unshed tears because he swiftly snatched her into his embrace, guiding her further into the corridor’s shadows. She sobbed but refused to let any tears fall. She couldn’t cry for her situation, though the thought of going into the commons area overwhelmed her already overwrought feelings. She couldn’t confront any more changes.

  Closing her eyes, she choked down another harsh sob. She buried her face into the hardened, chiseled chest of Sergeant Snow. How could I lose control like this?

  “Shush. You’ve had a very long day,” he said, his voice soothing against her ear. “The medic can dispense something to help you sleep.”

  Maybe it was his tone -- caring and kind -- or maybe it was her ragged feelings, Cricket didn’t know. But he ignited her lonely wick and her hankering for him pushed forward, seizing control.

  With his arms loosely around her torso, she leaned up on her toes and kissed him briefly on the mouth, slamming her lips against his a split second before her brain knew what she was doing. The scent of soap and musk flooded her nostrils. She slipped her arms around his neck, feeling the tight muscles there. Those lips felt as awesome as she thought they would and she sighed as she pulled back, searching his face for a response. She didn’t know what she expected.

  Stunned, both eyebrows arched high above his honey-hazel eyes, Sergeant Snow was speechless. He searched her face, seeking an explanation.

  Kiss me! Cricket mentally pleaded, and tried to convey it through her eyes.

  “Dr. Moore,” Sergeant Snow began, voice set to stern, his face funneling out the initial shock of her kiss and returning to neutral. He removed his arms and retreated to a spot out of her reach. “You aren’t feeling well. Today has been quite a strain on you, physically and emotionally. Perhaps I should escort you back to the visitor’s quarters and contact Dr. Krongkon.”

  She sucked in another round of courage and rushed up to him, kissing him again. Pressing her urgency and want against his full lips, she wrapped her arms around his neck, locking the position so he couldn’t pull away. Cricket pressed her body to his, demanding he take notice. And he did.

  There, yes! He kissed back! Moist lips parted. He pulled into the kiss’s sweetness. Hungry, his tongue sought out hers. His strong hands snatched her closer to him. This is heaven. Cricket smiled, but all too soon, Sergeant Snow broke it off. Retreating once more, he panted a bit. “Dr. Moore…”

  “Cricket…”

  “What?” he frowned, gulping for air.

  “Call me Cricket.”

  He dropped his head for a second, laughed, and then looked at her again. “I don’t want…”

  “Me?” Cricket asked. Horror turned her insides cold. How can I be so shameful? I’ve got to get away. What possessed me to do that?

  Sergeant Snow barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding?” He smiled. “Dr. Moore…”

  “Cricket.”

  He relaxed, his hands resting on his lean waist. With a shake of his head, he explained, “Cricket, there’s nothing, nothing I’d rather do right now. Than, well, you, but, ah, I’m not going to take advantage of you. You’re vulnerable and hurting, confused and fatigued.”

  Wait. He does want me. The burning lust he’d had in his eyes on the turbo lift ignited once more. That was for her, not a wife or the latest IGO-issued laser gun.

  Her.

  Still, she was losing him. He thought she was a whacked-out and distraught scientist. He didn’t want sexual misconduct charges if tomorrow she regretted her actions or awoke with a clearer head. She couldn’t let that happen. Not after she’d risked so much of herself by kissing him first. The rejection, no, she couldn’t take that kind of rejection right now.

  “Advantage? I kissed you first, remember?” she quipped, aware of how smoky her voice had become, how steady her person felt when close to him.

  “Yes, I do,” Sergeant Snow growled.

  His hands glided over her thighs and he sighed as they inched closer to her waist. They settled there as if they were crafted for that position. He leaned down to her ear, nuzzling her lobe and the area behind it. Chills swept over her and turned instantly hot.

  “Doctor, you’re wounded,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “I’d never be able to get over it if I injured you further, or harmed you beyond what has already happened to you.”

  He barely knew her, but Cricket believed he was a good man. Someone else wouldn’t have thought twice about taking her invitation and creating a party of his own pleasure -- her emotional state be damned. She shuddered against him and inched closer to his warmth. Aching to drink him in, she tilted her head up to his. He withdrew, his face tight with the struggle to remain professional.

  “You’re not taking advantage of me, Sergeant Snow,” she croaked. “Kiss me. Now. Hold me close to you.”

  Cricket witnessed it as his emotions played out on his face. She glanced down at his crotch where his tormented cock pushed against his uniform’s restraint. He wasn’t kidding. He does want me, in a big way.

  “Darryl,” he said, at last, drawing her eyes back to his. They were at half-mast. She could hear him gulp and the ache in the tremors in his voice.

  “What?”

  “Call me Darryl,” he breathed, husky and scorching against her flesh.

  With that, what was left of his resolve melted as his lips clasped over hers once again. Unleashed, the raw lust of his longings raked over her. Those hands remained at her waist, but his body fell onto hers, pinning her against the wall. Engulfed by him and his scent, she let go of all logical thoughts. She closed her eyes, giving in to the tidal wave of her own unleashed passion as it swelled against his.

  “We can’t do this here,” she whispered between Darryl’s frequent kisses. They made her grin foolishly like a teen. With her cheeks enflamed, her desire da
mp, she gently put both hands on his chest, whimpering as her fingertips brushed stone hard muscle. IGO physical conditioning. Excellent.

  “Did you hear me?” she groaned.

  His eyes met hers and for a moment she thought he was going to be angry. Confusion flashed over his strong features, but was just as quickly gone. He smiled and it was filled with tenderness, something she hadn’t experienced from another soul in a long, long while.

  Chapter 5

  “Yes, yes, you’re right,” Darryl said, drawing up to his full height. He searched the corridor as if he’d never seen it before. He yanked down his jacket, adjusted his pants and ran a hand across his black buzzed strands. “My apologies, Dr. Moore.”

  She returned his smile. “Cricket.”

  “Yes, Cricket,” he added rather sheepishly.

  Whoa, she is so stunning. I can’t believe I let go long enough for her to suck me in. Her kisses were delightful, but is she really ready, stable enough to engage me? I -- I should be the bigger person here and walk away with only a bad case of blue balls.

  At that moment several soldiers spilled out of the turbo lift, a cloud of gunmetal gray IGO uniforms in identical shades, ebony boots, and military shaved heads.

  “Sergeant Snow, sir!” Private Rojas called, tossing up a stiff IGO salute, rapidly at attention.

  Each one of the men delivered their salute in strict gestures and sharp turns. Afterward, they started again, falling out of the formality as easily as they’d commenced. They were headed toward the commons and probably to the cafeteria. As they passed, he saw them glance back. Noting the curiosity in those eyes, Darryl sobered at once. What the hell am I doing? Necking with a stranger in a public corridor? I’m a sergeant. I’ve got to get back to my quarters and blow off this bout of errant judgment. Sim program angel47-9 should do the trick.

  “We really should go.” Her words held the sharp blade of urgency.

  He saw her watching the soldiers. “I’ll show you to your quarters, Dr. Moore,” he said, louder than necessary. “The Inquiry is a bit confusing to navigate your first time through.”

  “What?” she balked.

  He saw her frown at the implication. He knew she wasn’t an idiot, but he had to provide the men with some explanation for why they were both together in the corridor’s shadows. He’d explain it to her later. He glanced at her once more and saw her cross her arms in a huff. Yeah, he was probably going to have to apologize too.

  Laughs and sniggers from the soldiers didn’t set his suspicions to rest.

  She pushed off the wall, swatting at his hand, and he smirked at her sauciness.

  “This way,” he said. Hand on her back, he guided her toward the turbo lift.

  “Thank you, sergeant,” she said, forcing the pleasantness her face told him she didn’t feel.

  “My pleasure,” he replied, and he heard his longing for her still.

  The turbo lift zipped faster than he thought and soon enough, he stood outside visitor quarters A3201. She kissed me. But why? Nervous breakdown?

  She spun toward him, those wonderful pools of honey eyes on him.

  “Forgive me,” he said, rubbing his cropped hair. “I was thinking on my feet down there. We needed a cover they would believe. You’re new, so I went with it. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

  She gave him a humph. “Sure. Now they’ll think I’m a moron.”

  He smiled, liking her feistiness. “They’d be mistaken.”

  She rewarded him with a kiss. He slipped his arms around her, pulling her fast against his body, noting how she made every inch of him swell. She smelled faintly of flowers and something spicy. Even through the dense fabric of his IGO suit, he could feel her sweltering heat and pebble-tipped nipples. He longed to place his lips over those dark chocolate peaks and bury his face into her flat stomach, nipping at her belly button.

  “Darryl,” she said, her voice damn close to breaking.

  Her doe eyes were wide and glimmering with tears. They met his when he opened his eyes.

  His heart sank down and iced the flames in his loins.

  “I’m really sorry, but I think I ought to be alone right now,” she said, turning from him and sniffing.

  This woman is an emotional wreck. It would be stupid to get involved now. Better to extinguish the desire now than be up on charges later. Hell, one of us has to be professional -- and she can’t be in this condition.

  He couldn’t believe he was saying this, but he wouldn’t feel right if he didn’t say it. Adding more pain to the fragile person in front of him wasn’t going to allow him to sleep at night. “If this is uncomfortable for you, then, then, uh, we don’t have to…”

  “I’m so sorry to have led you on,” she whispered through her tears.

  He wanted to hug her tight to him, but thought better of it. “You didn’t,” he said, fighting to keep his disappointment from appearing on his face. Obviously she had enough on her plate, so he wasn’t going to let her see his face and feel worried about that too.

  This was probably for the best. It kept him from getting into trouble with her and her from making a mistake.

  “I can send down a medic, or rather you can contact her. Use medic code to reach the medical assistants,” he said, stepping away from her though he knew his heart had been firmly attached to her. Squashing the overwhelming desire to plaster her against his body, he clenched his fists.

  “Thank you, Darryl. It means a lot to me. I -- I’m really sorry about, well, you know,” she said. The anguish behind those eyes squeezed his heart.

  “Sleep well, Cricket,” he said, holding his hands in front of him to keep himself from touching her. He shot her a smile and received a waning one in return.

  She sniffed, stifled another sob and vanished into the visitor quarters.

  Darryl watched the doors close before heading down the corridor. The turbo lift was faster, but sometimes manual labor allowed more reflective time. His mind needed scouring, and walking did that for him. In an instant, Cricket had rubbed out his cautiousness and zipped between his defensive walls with one well-placed kiss. She managed to scrape away his icy indifference and ignite a furious blaze of lust in him.

  Careful. I have to be really careful. She was very upset tonight, and tomorrow she may find she didn’t quite fancy me as much as she thought, especially once she got to know me.

  He sighed as he reached the fifth level and made a right. I miss her already.

  He entered his quarters, stripping off his boots and uniform. Empty except for the usual standard-issue IGO furniture, the space felt gloomy. Darryl’s mind continued to transmit pictures of her, replaying her smile and her sauciness from earlier today -- a video feed into his brain. The feel of her kiss across his lips and how wonderful she felt pressed against him plagued his body and he fell back onto his bed in torment.

  Folding his arms behind his head, he knew he had to push thoughts of her aside if he ever hoped to get some sleep. With his shift beginning in only six hours, he wasn’t going to get a full eight hours of rest. He hardly ever did.

  After a good night’s sleep, things would look different for both of them.

  Chapter 6

  Loud beeps forced Darryl to bolt out of his bed in a cold sweat. The covers lay scattered about the foam mattress, a physical representation of his chaotic slumber. His knuckles rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He caught the scarlet time on the plasma screen and groaned. It was time for his shift and he groggily stretched, easing the kinks and crooks. He snatched the earpiece from the ledge beside his bed and slung it over his ear. Waterproof, it would withstand his shower.

  “Alarm off,” he croaked, cotton mouth causing his words to catch. Hearing the fatigue in his voice, Darryl sighed. He’d been asleep for over five hours. Couldn’t tell that by how sluggish his body behaved.

  The only aspect of his body that seemed to be alert was his cock. It shot up from his nude body and the sprouts of ebony hair like a beaco
n. Slumber hadn’t banished his thoughts of Cricket, but instead placed her right up front and center. Distracting every logical, duty-oriented thought with that luscious body and whiplash-causing smile, his cock pulsated out its SOS. He closed his eyes as he wrapped his hand around his solid cock. Damn. Hard, rigid stone, his member grew taller beneath his hand, as his thoughts turned to Cricket.

  As his hand slipped up and down his member, he shuddered. The silky head dripped a bit of dew beneath his palm, leaving a thin line of semen. God, he so wanted her -- to feel her tightness clamped around his cock. This manual stimulation wasn’t enough.

  He stared at his cock, trying to make it lessen so he could move on with his day. But like a rigid, stubborn pole, it remained, begging him, no, forcing him to confront it and deal with it. “Shit.”

  He took his cock into his hand once more and, using his already damp masculine dew, began to stroke. Up and down, cupping his balls and up and over once again. In his mind, he conjured Cricket’s lovely body, dancing before him seductively. Hips swinging to the music, something Martian and exotic, his mental Cricket met his gaze and was giving her all to him -- something the real Cricket wouldn’t do.

  Darryl let go, relinquishing his thoughts and his body to the fantasy of her. He closed his eyes, and his hands became hers. Her fingers brushed across his torso and pinched his right nipple, making his lower belly bunch in response. His cock thickened and bobbed up and down as if nodding that he couldn’t wait to touch her. Using the water mixed with his precum moisture, the refreshing lubricant felt so good, warm and inviting, but he knew she would feel better, much better.

  Tight her pussy would be. Like a vise, she’d hug his cock and those muscles would caress his cock until he shot his release. The fantasy Cricket nodded, confirming his thoughts. The tremble of pleasure bolted through him as he gently squeezed the head of his cock. Using his other hand, he cupped his balls and fingered them, shivering in absolute lust. He stroked, faster and faster, pumping harder and harder as his Cricket whispered for more.