Angels and Ministers of Grace

by Michelle O'Leary

  "Are—are you sure?" he rasped as she approached, his fists clenched as though fighting for control.

  "Are you kidding?" she purred, slipping a hand into his thick hair and standing on tiptoe to show him just how sure she was with a ravenous kiss. She was rewarded with a crushing embrace, his arms like iron bands around her naked torso before he loosened his hold with a shudder. She barely noticed the force of his grip, caught in a riot of sensations as she was pressed against him. The hard planes of his chest were a tantalizing pressure against her breasts and the rasp of his shirt caused her nipples to harden almost painfully. The brush of fabric against her belly made her abdomen tighten and the heat of him baking right through his shirt made her squirm against him to get closer.

  In response, his large hands splayed across her naked skin and slid down to her hips, then across her buttocks, making her moan and melt against him. But when he lifted her higher on her toes and pressed her against his arousal, she nearly cried out at the pleasure spiking from her groin all the way out to her extremities. He growled into her mouth, and she writhed against him, more than ready. She wouldn't even protest if he pressed her to the floor and took her right then.

  Abruptly, he lifted his head and wrenched away, making her whimper in disappointment until he bent and hoisted her in his arms, one behind her back and one under her knees. He headed for the bedroom, and Anya curled closer, content for the moment to press her face into his neck, breathing in the tantalizing scent of his skin.

  The small distance between them cleared her head a little though, and she worried for a moment about what was going to happen. There was one facet of her talent that she hadn't discussed with him, and she wondered what his reaction was going to be when he discovered it. Only her three friends and a couple of her old lovers knew about this little quirk—the last one had panicked at the experience and wound up betraying her to the Guild.

  But when Jason laid her on the bed and began caressing her with hands and mouth, this concern disappeared along with all other rational thought. Her world narrowed down to the overwhelming pleasure of her senses and the man who gave it to her.

  Jason couldn't stop touching her. This turned the removal of his clothes into more of an ordeal than was necessary, but he needed the contact for more than physical reasons. He had to reassure himself that this was real and he wasn't just having another erotic dream. This beautiful creature was actually in his bed, and when he trailed his fingers over her abdomen, she arched like a cat and gasped. When he suckled a perfect little nipple she moaned and writhed under him. When he touched the hot, wet core of her, she cried out and dug her nails into his skin. She was responsive and supple and more vibrantly real than anything he could have dreamed.

  And he would never have dreamed that she'd pull his hand away. He lifted his head to look into her face with a frown of question. She was flushed, eyes heavy lidded with desire, and she was moaning low in the back of her throat, body twisting against him. He had felt her response—she'd been close to release and he didn't know why she'd stopped him.

  "With—with you," she gasped, wrapping silken limbs around him in sensual demand. "Inside me," she purred against his lips, and he shuddered, trying desperately to retain control. He didn't want to take her like an animal, maybe even hurt her, but he was fast losing control over his own reactions.

  Kissing her with wild passion, he shifted and pressed into her, trying to go slowly. She wasn't having it. Legs tightening around him, she thrust upward, enclosing him in heat and agonizing pleasure. He groaned into her mouth, answering her unspoken demand with the slow rocking of his body. He was trying to prolong his own climax, but the pleasure was too great and it was fast approaching whether he went slow or not. Nearly delirious with the effort of holding back, he was gratified to feel her flex around him, her whole body tightening as her own release approached.

  Then his world took a turn into the strange. A sensation rushed over him, an unfamiliar burst of expanding pleasure enveloping his entire universe. It rolled through him in glorious waves, one after the other, expanding from his center out and filling his whole body with almost painful bliss. In the midst of this, he felt his own familiar orgasm cresting a wave of this unique sensation and fading while the other continued on, diminishing in slow undulations.

  Reality came back in fits and starts. Jason became aware of the chill of sweat drying on his skin and his own harsh breathing. His arms were trembling with strain, and he realized that he was clutching the bedding in both desperate fists. He relaxed in slow degrees and lifted his head, aware that coils of pleasure were still expanding out through his body in languid waves. Anya's eyes were closed and expression serene, though her lips were parted with her rapid breathing.

  "God," he ground out, and her eyes popped open, the sensation disappearing as though cut off with a knife. He was pretty sure of what had just happened, but he asked anyway. "What the hell was that?"

  Her expression turned wary, her grip on him loosening. "That—that was me. It's part of my talent. When I—er, you know… I end up sharing it with my partner."

  "God," he said again, and because his muscles were jelly, he rolled away from her onto his back, staring up at the ceiling in blank amazement. "You—do that—every time?"

  "Well, it hasn't happened with everyone. That's part of the reason I didn't warn you. Plus, I wasn't sure how you'd take it."

  He felt her shift next to him and glanced over to see her on her side, watching him with what looked like concern. She reached out and laid a tentative hand on his chest, as though she wasn't sure of her reception. He put a hand over hers and studied her, wondering why she would ever worry about how he would take it. It had been the most incredible sexual experience he'd ever had.

  "So that was a woman's orgasm?"

  "Yes." She was still watching him with wary eyes. "What are you thinking?"

  "I'm thinking I wanna be a woman." He put enough wry humor in his tone and expression to be absolutely clear how he was taking it, but it still took her a full second to lose that anxious look. Then she tipped back her head and laughed without restraint. Chuckling, he pulled her into the curve of his body, resting his chin on the top of her head and waiting until she was down to the occasional giggle before speaking. "Still, you should've warned me."

  "I'm sorry. It's just not the easiest thing to bring up in conversation."

  "Point taken. But I'm feeling cheated." He felt her stiffen a little and grinned into the darkened room, enjoying the game.

  "How so?"

  "Well, I was taken by surprise since you didn't tell me. I think shock took away from the experience. If you'd told me, I could've enjoyed it to the fullest."

  She shifted until she was lying on top of him and rested her chin on folded hands to look at him. Her expression was amused as she studied his face. "Now I feel just terrible," she murmured in a dry tone. "Whatever can I do to make it right?"

  "Glad you asked." In an abrupt move that made her squeak in surprise, he rolled them off the bed and swept her up in his arms, heading for the lavatory. "Can't go back in time, so we're just going to have to repeat it."

  She sighed in his ear as she curled closer. "Well, if that's the only way…"

  He grinned down at her, and she smiled back, a promise in her eyes that he was fast becoming addicted to. Once in the lav, he lowered her to her feet and started the shower. Not only did he want to get the itch of drying sweat off of his skin, but one of his dreams involved a slick, wet Anya in his arms. With his first desperate passion quenched, he meant to take his time and explore every inch of her.

  But apparently Anya had the same plan. While she allowed him free access and responded to his touch as sweetly as he could have wished, she was also busy with her hands and mouth. Much sooner than he'd planned, he reached a point where he had to be inside her or explode. As luck would have it, she seemed to feel the same way. This time when Anya reached her climax, the experience drove Jason to his knees.
/>   It took them time to recover. Anya leaned her weight against him as they finished their shower and Jason turned the controls from wet to dry. He held her close as the heated lamps and the vacuum sucked the moisture from their skin. The past few nights of little to no sleep had caught up to him with a vengeance, and he could see that Anya was in little better shape. Her eyes were barely open as they left the lav and fell together into the bed.

  Jason dragged the blanket over them and wrapped his arms around her, fitting her into the curve of his body with a sigh of contentment. He'd had a momentary fear earlier that she wouldn't stay—that she would dress and leave him. But it seemed a benevolent deity was smiling on him for once. With a low murmur that he didn't understand, Anya cuddled against him and seemed to fall instantly asleep. With a fleeting pang that he couldn't stay awake and savor the moment, he followed her into oblivion.

  Chapter 21

  Anya was awaked by a shrill noise, followed by the abrupt disappearance of her pillow. With an incoherent mutter of protest, she cracked an eye to see Jason slipping away from her out of the bed. The irritating noise stopped when he picked up a communicator and stuck it in his ear. "What!"

  He sounded as put out as she was feeling. About to search for a real pillow since Jason's chest was no longer available, she paused when she saw him stiffen.

  "On my way." The words were crisp and toneless, and Anya tensed. Now what?

  "What is it?"

  He got up and began yanking on clothes with all due speed, not looking at her. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart. It's early."

  The endearment made a warm glow spread through her chest, but the tension in his movements kept her from relaxing and enjoying it. "Where are you going?"

  "Captain wants me in Control."

  She sat up, aware that he still hadn't looked at her. "Why?"

  He didn't say anything at first, just finished dressing and combed absent fingers through his hair before he sat next to her on the bed. She felt a stab of fear at the shuttered expression on his face. "You stay here, get some more sleep. I'll be back before you know it."

  He cupped her face and kissed her with a tenderness that made her catch her breath. Then he stood and headed towards the door. Anya flung the covers back and followed, receiving a frown even though she was stark naked. Not exactly a boost for her ego.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'm coming with you." Giving him a serene smile, she swept out of the bedroom ahead of him and found the dress she'd left on the floor in the living room.

  "No, you're not!" he barked, now glowering at her as she wriggled back into her dress and slipped her feet into her shoes.

  "Yes, I am. There's obviously something going on that you don't want me to know about. Which means, of course, that I need to know about it."

  "Anya—" he growled, as she headed for the door.

  She paused at the entrance, looking back over her shoulder and lifting her eyebrows. "Aren't you coming?"

  He swore and followed her, setting a grueling pace once they reached the corridor. Anya skipped to keep up, but she wasn't about to ask him to slow, not in the mood he was in.

  "You can't come to Control. Just go to your quarters, Anya."

  The harshness in his voice worried her more than anything else, and she grabbed his arm. "Just tell me what's going on!"

  He shot her a quick look, slowing down a little. The desperation in her tone must have gotten through to him.

  "Jason, I'm going to find out one way or the other. Stop trying to protect me and just spit it out."

  With a grimace, he took hold of her arm and propelled her into a level hopper. Once the doors closed, he let her go and glared down at her, folding his arms across his chest. "Fine! Fine, I'll tell you. There's a destroyer on approach to the station. They're carrying Guild members."

  Anya's stomach dropped, and she suddenly felt lightheaded. The Guild had come to get her. And they didn't show up on just any ship; they came on the largest, most dangerous kind of ship in the Fleet. One blast from that thing could turn the station—hell, the whole moon—into space dust. "Oh god, Jason, you can't let her do it! It'll be a massacre—"

  "No, it won't." He pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. "You have to trust me—and her. We know what we're doing. They want you but they're not going to get you and nobody is going to get hurt, I promise. All right?"

  Anya dropped her face to his chest and rested against him for a moment. She could feel the strength in the arms wrapped around her and the solid warmth of his body bracing her. His heart beat a steady rhythm in her ear, and she wanted to stay there so badly that tears came to her eyes. They want you but they're not going to get you… And so it came to this, and the decision she'd been avoiding since the captain had told her the Guild would be coming. There was a choice she had to make, and the time to make it was now.

  The potential for disaster was enormous. Even if they could avoid an all out war with other alien species, they were still looking at an almost certain civil war. Could she allow blood to be spilled in her name? The answer, the decision, and the choice was—no.

  Schooling her expression to show none of her thoughts, she looked up into his handsome face with a lurch of her heart. Here was someone she would do anything to protect. "What do I do?" she asked him as the lever jumper stopped.

  "Just wait it out in your quarters. I'll come to you just as soon as I can."

  The doors opened, and his arms fell away as he stepped out. Anya followed, a band of emotion constricting her chest. Some of her distress must have shown on her face because he gave her a reassuring smile and slipped an arm back around her. "I swear it'll be okay."

  In answer, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, pouring her heart and soul into that caress. He returned it with the same intensity, and when she finally dropped back on her heels, his smile was gone and his eyes were vibrant dark pools.

  "Be careful," she whispered, and he nodded, giving her one more hard kiss before he strode away.

  Anya waited until he was out of sight before spinning on her heel and heading to the nearest information terminal. "Station, connect me with Frank Cooper. This is an emergency."

  There was a faint click, and then Frank's puzzled voice sounded. "Cooper here."

  "Frank, it's Anya. Where are you?"

  "I'm on the flight deck. Look, Anya, I'm awful busy—"

  "I know what's going on, and I need to talk to you right now. How do I get to you?"

  "We're prepping for launch. You're not allowed down here—"

  "Frank, I'm serious! This is an emergency—I have to talk to you!"

  "Well…all right." He gave quick directions on how to get to him. "But I might not be here when you get here. Like I said, we're prepping for—"

  "Don't you dare leave until I see you! Promise me!"

  "Anya…you know I can't make that prom—"

  Anya didn't waste any more time arguing. She cut the connection and sprinted away down the corridor, taking the route that he indicated until she came to one of the docking bays.

  The entrance was guarded. "Hey, you can't be down here! I'm sorry but you'll have to—"

  "I need to talk to Frank Cooper. He said it was okay." Whispering a little apology in her head, she pushed the guard. He was tougher than most.

  "Well, let me check with the lieutenant…"

  She pushed harder and didn't even bother to smooth it over with talk, brushing by him and dashing onto the flight deck. She spotted Frank's balding head almost immediately. "Frank!"

  "Anya, damn it, you can't be here! Jace is gonna kill me—"

  "Just shut up and listen, Frank." She dragged him to a corner and told him what she had in mind with urgent, rapid whispers. He wasn't terribly receptive.

  "No! No way. You are out of your—"

  "Frank, I can't do it on my own!"

  "You're not doing it period! I can't believe after all that's happened you want to—"

  "I have
to, don't you understand?"

  "Forget it. I'm not helping you do this. It's crazy!"

  With a cry of exasperation, she turned him so that he was facing the flight deck. "Look at them, Frank. They are prepping for launch. Those men and women are going out there to face a damned destroyer! Do you think I could ever live with myself if just one of them didn't make it back?"

  He gnawed on his lower lip, his brows pulled down in an uncertain frown. She could see him thinking about it and hoped like hell she wasn't going to have to push him into it.

  "You know I can stop this, Frank. You know it doesn't have to be this way."

  He turned worried blue eyes on her, gripping her upper arms with gentle affection. "Are you sure you really want to do this? There's no turning back, you know. Once we go out there, that's it."

  "I know and I'm sure." She slipped her arms around him and gave him a quick, fierce hug. "You're a very good friend, Francis Cooper."

  He glowered at her, though his face was a little pink. "I told you not to call me that."

  She rolled her eyes at him and tugged him towards a ship, only to have him yank her back the other way.

  "Not that one, goose. It's a fighter. Don't wanna give 'em any ideas, do we?"

  They scrambled aboard a shuttle, making quick work out of a preflight check and launch prep.

  "Jace is gonna strip the meat off my bones," Frank muttered, as they pulled away from the bay.

  "It won't be that bad."

  He gave her a strange look, shaking his head as he flew them out to meet the destroyer.

  Chapter 22

  Jason wished like hell he'd just kept Anya with him. The second she was out of his sight, he started worrying about her. Her expression when he'd left her was heart wrenching even in memory and her kiss had felt like a goodbye… He shook his head in swift denial, telling himself not to be an ass. She was just worried; that was all. With good reason, considering all that they hoped to accomplish.