Mine to Serve: ES Siren 6

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Mine to Serve: ES Siren 6 Page 6

by Mel Teshco


  “Christ, are you okay?” he asked hoarsely.

  The pain was the least of her concerns. She had an itch and only he could scratch it. “Fine. You?”

  His nod was jerky, his jaw tight and his huge cock even tighter as it leapt free from his pants the moment she finally managed to tug the material past his thighs. He stepped out of his pants and back into position between her thighs.

  Her mouth dried and her lashes fluttered as she stared down at his massive cock. The crown was already beaded with pre-cum, his shaft drawn tight by ropey veins and his balls full and heavy beneath. She licked her lower lip, desperate for a taste.

  “Not this time,” he said harshly, a muscle beating a tempo in his jaw. “I won’t last that long.”

  Her blood warmed, liquid heat pooling between her thighs. He was as desperate for this as she was. Add the fact that someone could walk in on them at any second, and the intense urgency was multiplied a hundredfold.

  His big hands grasped her hips and he tugged her closer to the edge of the table. She spread her thighs wider for him, giving him full view of her glistening sex. Shyness had no place right then, only bold invitation.

  The head of his cock nudged between her pussy lips. With a strangled groan he plunged into her wet warmth, sheathing her balls deep.

  She gasped, caught between pleasure and pain as she looped her legs around his hips and held on. Damn, he was big.

  Before her inner muscles had time to adjust, he set up a rhythm that gathered speed fast. Pain faded as desire flared. Each slap of flesh on flesh tipped her closer to the edge, each deep slide stoking the fire within.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing her other senses to take over. The scent of musky sex. Their labored breaths. The clench and release of her inner muscles as he drove into her, igniting sensitized nerves.

  Jarred’s jaw clenched, his biceps straining. He was hanging on by a thread. Then again, so was she.

  She bucked against him, clawing, gasping, mewling.

  The orgasm that burst through her body and fizzed through her veins took her breath away. She sucked in some air, her lungs starving, before his name spilled from her lips as she exhaled.

  Jarred let go of all control. He slammed into her once, twice, before his hot seed flooded deep inside her and he growled out her name as though a man liberated. Enlightened. A man who’d willingly stepped off the edge, knowing there was no going back. Goosebumps chased one another over her arms. She swallowed, her throat suddenly parched—in contrast to her core, which was saturated. “Wow.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” he murmured. He cupped her face and kissed her, long and deep, while their heart rates settled.

  When he finally pulled back, she smiled up at him. It was almost unsettling having hard, no-holds barred sex, followed by tender, lingering kisses. Jarred was a fascinating blend of tough, ruthless pilot whose career literally took him to the stars, and a gentleman whose passion and devotion was without limits.

  His eyes shone with warmth, and something far stronger.

  Her heart did a slow flip. She hadn’t been imagining things before when he’d said her name so harshly and yet with so much reverence. Was it possible a person could feel so much for someone in so short a time? It was as if being in a space can, hurtling toward a new and uncertain life, somehow sped up the process of falling headlong into …

  She pressed a hand to her mouth, her gasp still audible. Was she in love with Jarred? And dare she hope he really did reciprocate those feelings?

  His stare searched hers. “Is something wrong?”

  She managed a somewhat shaky smile. “No. Just the opposite. I’ve never felt better, happier.”

  He grinned, his teeth gleaming. “I know. I feel the same way.”

  They dressed silently, Jarred seeming as lost in his own thoughts as she was in hers. She sighed, at peace for the first time in … forever. Happiness glowed from within, burning away all her insecurities and concerns.

  She and Jarred belonged together. They were meant to be. She’d wait for him on Solitaire—though she had no doubt it’d be the longest two years of her life. She smiled. She’d wait ten years for him if she had to. There was no other man for her. No other man who could possibly capture her heart, her soul.

  He was incomparable.

  And he’s all mine.

  “I can only hope I’m the reason behind that smile?” he asked, a deliberately smug look on his face.

  “Keep on hoping, pilot,” she retorted.

  Jarred chuckled as he found a cloth and gave the table a quick clean. Then they quietly left the classroom, hand-in-hand, grinning like loons.

  As he led her down the corridor, in the opposite direction to the bar, she turned to him. “I hope our little love fest hasn’t changed your mind about taking me on that date?”

  He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “Hardly.” He let her go and looked at her upturned face. “But I thought you might like a shower first.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, ecstatic at the thought of using his humidifier once again. It didn’t seem fair though. She frowned. “I’m using all your allocated steam time.”

  He arched a brow. “I didn’t say you’d be taking it alone.”

  She giggled. “Well, in that case …”

  They passed a young guard in the corridor, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he saw Jarred’s arm around Lucinda. Still, the man kept an admirably straight face as he saluted the pilot.

  Intimacy between prisoners and personnel was rarely made public. There were exceptions. Recently Paul DeWitt—a prisoner who was as smart as he was good-looking, had seemingly broken through the icy, aloof façade of Master Sergeant Sanderson. But most of the prisoners—both men and women—were paid for sex, which was seldom repeated more than once. The reasoning was simple. One night equaled no paperwork and no demands for something more permanent.

  Meanwhile, Jarred seemed oblivious to the fact he was openly dating someone in yellows, which only made Lucinda’s heart melt more.

  Distracted by his presence, she didn’t much recall the short journey to his cabin. She was vaguely aware of passing an air crew trio who cast bemused stares their way. She stifled a sudden urge to giggle as Jarred pulled her into his room, closed the door behind them and sealed her mouth with his own, turning her merriment right back to lust.

  She could get lost in his lips, his kisses, which alternated between hard and gentle, assertive and tender. She moaned when he pulled away, his eyes blazing down at her with enough fire to heat the entire ship.

  “As much I want you, I’m not some animal about to sate my lust on you again and again.”

  She managed a weak smile, disappointment biting deep even as she registered the soreness from his earlier possession. “You don’t think I can take it, pilot?”

  He lifted a hand and brushed the back of his knuckles across her jaw. “I’m not interested solely in your body.”

  “You love my mind, my spirit?”

  It was meant to come across as dry wit, but Jarred took it all too seriously. “Yes, I guess I do.”

  Damn, he knew how to make a woman feel good.

  He began to undress her, and though he’d seen her naked enough times to know most of her curves, her niches and flaws, it was as though he was unwrapping a present for the very first time.

  Her body throbbed all over again. But it was a deliciously lazy sensation, as though their lovemaking session had finally caught up to her and turned all her muscles to sludge.

  Jarred’s eyes were heavy-lidded when she finally stood, bared to his gaze. “You have no idea how beautiful you are,” he murmured.

  She swayed toward him but he didn’t take advantage of her. Instead, he quickly stripped off his own clothes and led her to the shower.

  She sighed as the steam poured out. Utter bliss. When he lathered up soap and began massaging every inch of her skin, she was little more than putty under his deft hands. At least now she
understood why so many women craved intimacy other than sex. It was lovely to be coddled. To give herself over to a man’s touch.

  There was almost a reverence to Jarred as he glided the lather over her shoulders, down her spine and buttocks, before taking his time at her front. She moaned as his hands slid under her breasts and then cupped them, his thumbs lazily tweaking her nipples and making her pussy moist all over again.

  His chuckle rasped against her ear, sending skitters of pleasure down her spine and into her core, making her need for him even more pronounced.

  “I love it that you’re so responsive,” he murmured. His hands dropped and he slicked himself quickly with soap before the steam washed it away. “But I meant what I said. Your body isn’t my only interest.”

  The steam abated and a blast of hot air dried them off.

  When she bent to retrieve her prison outfit, Jarred stopped her and handed her a towel. “Wait.” He looked unsure. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  She straightened and stared as he walked butt-naked across the room, the corded muscles in his back pulling and releasing, his thighs thick and powerful. Damn, he was every woman’s fantasy come to life.

  He grabbed a parcel from his bed and brought it back to her. “I had this delivered while I was teaching … I hope I’m not overstepping the mark here.”

  Her mouth dropped open and she accepted it with not quite steady hands. “A present?” she breathed. The last time she’d had one was a birthday many years ago when she was a child and her parents had managed to procure a Barbie doll. It had been secondhand with a ratty sequined dress, but she’d treasured it far above anything else.

  He smiled. “Yes. I hope you like it.”

  She opened the colored paper and held up a burnt-orange smock dress. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “Where did you get this?”

  His head cocked to the side, as if assessing her reaction. “I have my contacts.”

  She held it against her, almost too afraid to imagine it was hers. “Only the elite would have been able to afford something like this.”

  It was pure luxury and elegance.

  He nodded. “Yes. Even the elite are getting desperate for the things they once took for granted.” He shrugged. “Credits don’t mean a lot right now. They were happy with some pieces of fruit and a promise of more to come.”

  She looked at him. “They?”

  He nodded. “A lesbian couple, both from wealthy families and already feeling the pinch.”

  She blew out a slow breath. “I almost feel guilty.”

  He stepped toward her. “Don’t you dare. Not now. Not ever.” He took her hand in his and lifted her knuckles to his mouth, kissing the red, dry skin. “You’ve earned this dress more than anyone else on this entire ship. Besides, I’ve had to jump through a lot of hoops and sign a lot of paperwork to get permission for you to wear it.”

  She nodded. “You’re right.” It was time to accept she was allowed some good fortune now and then. “And thank you. I love it.”

  “I’m glad.” His face relaxed. “Now, let’s get dressed and go on that date.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ten minutes later Jarred was walking with her to the bar, his arm around her and his big body warm against hers.

  She felt sexy and confident in her dress. Even the flat-heeled sandals, which Jarred had also purchased, were something to be worn with pride. Sure, they were a little big, and slightly scuffed, but she felt like Cinderella heading to the ball.

  With Jarred her dark prince.

  The bar was busier than it had been on their last visit. In fact, it was packed with patrons. Somehow this made her feel safer, as though she and Jarred could get lost in the crowd and not be noticed.

  Still, more than a couple of men turned and checked her out. It was only Jarred’s possessive arm around her and his steely gaze that kept the men at bay.

  The pilot bought two beers from the crowded bar before they found an empty booth. She took a sip of the brew, grimaced a little, and then sipped some more. Going out on a date was practically unheard of as a prisoner, and she was determined to enjoy every second of it—even the yeasty, horrible beer.

  Jarred raised his glass and said huskily, “To us.” When he took a swig from his drink, she followed suit, and then belched into her hand with a little giggle. “Sorry, I’m not used to drinking alcohol.”

  His eyes flashed with warmth and his chuckle stroked her senses. “I’d better warn you, it’s a pretty potent brew.”

  And probably worse on an empty stomach. Damn. She should have ignored Stokes and eaten at least some of the soyroom glop. But then she wouldn’t have had the satisfaction of sitting in on Jarred’s class. Skipping the meal had definitely been to her benefit.

  Some disheveled looking band members—three civvies and two prisoners—entered the bar and began to set up in a corner of the room. A bored guard followed them, though his stare seemed more dedicated to scoping out the women in the room. He probably imagined he’d earned the right to a drink and a few hours with a pretty woman.

  Jarred smiled. “We’re in luck tonight. The Meteorites play most nights, and aren’t half-bad, but I’ve heard these guys are in a league of their own.”

  Lucinda twisted to get a better look at the band members. She didn’t recognize any of the civvies, but one of the prisoners looked familiar. He was fierce, looming high above the others, with unkempt dark brown hair and tribal ink creeping partway up his neck. But it was his repressed hostility that really made him stand out.

  She could easily imagine him as a whites prisoner.

  She shivered, and turned back to face Jarred. The pilot was bad boy enough for her. He’d proven what he was capable of doing under the right—wrong?—circumstances.

  Jarred clasped her hand, his expression suddenly serious. “I’d love to learn something about the woman who makes my insides curl whenever she’s near.”

  Oh, god. He knew just the right things to say, and more importantly, he meant them. He was heartfelt and sincere, and totally unapologetic. It seemed the tough and brilliant pilot didn’t mind occasionally wearing his heart on his sleeve.

  She kept her voice neutral, trying not to let his praise affect her. “What do you want to know?”

  “Whatever you’d like to share with me.”

  She shrugged, starting with the basics. “I come from a small family. My mom and dad, and one little brother, Sam.”

  “I bet you were their princess.”

  He said it as if it was her right; as if it was exactly how he’d treat her.

  She smiled, even as an odd sadness filled her from the inside out. “Not really, no. When Earth went to shit I’m sure they had too much else on their mind, without having to worry about spoiling me.”

  Jarred frowned, as if he couldn’t believe she hadn’t been their number one priority. But Lucinda was certain both she and Sam would have been loved a whole lot more if the world had stayed clean and safe, without the constant burden her parents faced just trying to survive.

  She shrugged, going for nonchalance. “Dad held onto his job as a train driver for as long as he could. Mom lost her job teaching soon after.”

  His hand squeezed hers, as though he shared her pain. “What did they do?”

  “There was little they could do. No wages meant they had no way to pay the bills. The outrageous taxes being enforced were the last straw.” The government and the elite in their towers grew fat and idle on those who somehow managed to hold onto their homes and were forced to pay for the privilege. “We lost our home even before the looters had a chance to take whatever we had left.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “We found an old shed hidden among some trees. Within months we were sharing it with two other families. We figured even if it meant there were more mouths to feed, there was also valuable extra protection against strangers. We all shared whatever we could get—food, clothes, shoes, water. But then my brother got really sick …”


  “Go on,” he said gently.

  She inhaled slowly. She’d meant to only tell him the bare necessities, but somehow the past was free-falling from her lips. “We had no medicines, and no money to buy any. When Sam’s fever worsened and he slept all the time, the other families worried he might be contagious. They argued we should leave.”

  Jarred shook his head. “I’m so sorry to hear that. It would have been an impossible situation.”

  She nodded, halfway lost to the past. Jarred was her only anchor to the present. “It was,” she whispered.

  “Did your brother fully recover?”

  “I don’t know.” She bit into her bottom lip, no doubt leaving imprints. “A rich, older man—a former friend of my father’s—stepped in to save the day.” Her voice turned bitter. “He wanted me to live in one of the towers with him.”

  Jarred’s expression darkened. “What did your parents do?”

  “They were backed into a corner and out of options. In the end I accepted on their behalf. It seemed a small sacrifice to save my brother. Only, once I was in the tower, I couldn’t go through with it.”

  He lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing each one of her red-raw knuckles. “That’s what you were thinking about earlier in your cell, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She managed a smile. “It seems silly now not to have told you then.”

  He shook his head. “Believe me, the past isn’t always easy to talk about. I’m just glad you’re opening up to me now.”

  An ache formed in the center of her chest. Jarred had put so much faith in her. He’d been the one with the biggest secret, and yet he’d shared his past with her right from the start.

  She swallowed, the action loosening the tense muscles along her jaw. “I used a letter opener to keep him away. When I sliced his cheek, he screamed to put the blade down. I refused and … he rang the police.” She had no doubt they were officers who were already on his payroll. “He told them I tried to kill him after he’d caught me stealing food.”

 

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