by Imogene Nix
His fingers danced within her, pushing her closer and closer to the brink, while she grew wetter and tighter. Hotter. She squirmed and writhed in pleasure.
Letting go of her breast, he slid his mouth down her body. His tongue and lips skated over her lush skin, down her belly and past the silken curls. Toward her core. His tongue touched the soft folds hidden under the curls that lay there. He pulled his hand free and spread her legs while the other slipped beneath her bottom, arching her up toward the most intimate kiss of all. She opened to his mouth as he set his tongue to her, long strokes that left her jerking beneath his ministrations.
His tongue invaded, and his free hand roamed, stroking and touching. Her cries were incoherent as she gasped and moaned. Her hips undulated. He murmured broken words against her skin, eager to push her further. She gripped the sheets, head thrashing as he invaded her totally, finding the sensitive nub and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. Finally, he lifted his head. She grabbed his shoulders, pulling him up.
He came up to meet her mouth as she touched him, circled him with her hand, stroking and pleasuring, while tasting herself on his tongue. He groaned as her hands worked up and down. Her hard nipples brushed against his chest, creating a pleasure-pain spiraling through him. His heart raced, and his chest heaved as the pleasure exploded inside his body.
Duvall grabbed her hand, and once more putting his hand below her bottom, he raised her. With a speed that was almost brutal, he plunged straight into her, straining. Her legs circled his hips, holding on. She moved; he groaned. The feel of her enveloping him as she threw her head back in pleasure and the scent of her skin invaded his senses. He craved the feel and touch of her. Her hands gripped his hips, urging him harder and faster. Mouths still fused, he pushed and she met his thrusts, until finally the pleasure exploded in him. He felt her exquisite muscles milking him as she orgasmed beneath him, and he met her, emptying himself within her. Holding on. Holding tight.
Gradually, as their breathing slowed, their bodies disentangled until only their arms encircled each other. They lay like that, while they came to terms with the explosive encounter, each lost in their own thoughts.
Duvall let his breathing return to normal, lying there, holding this woman. The one who set his world alight like the trail of stars he traveled. Inside him, thoughts and feelings fought their way out. The need to love her, keep her with him, railed against his refusal to see what they could have.
* * * *
He lay on his side, eyes closed, unable to sleep. He’d laid there for what felt like hours. Barsha! He couldn’t keep his hands off Mellissa. The tension had built since they’d been in the Admiral’s office. It made no sense. He didn’t want to leave her behind. It had felt so wrong.
He needed to ensure her safety, and he knew that was best achieved aboard the Elector. Once Gustav said she would be safest with him, he’d reacted instinctively. He had felt elation and relief that she would remain with him. That too was counterpoint to what he’d worked to achieve. His emotions were best further away from her. The constant see-saw of head versus—he didn’t want to acknowledge heart—was draining and confusing. How could he want her there with him, in his arms and bed, when he knew it was against everything he worked for? Hadn’t he always agreed that relationships grounded a man?
He had never before experienced this bipolar range of highs and lows. Previously, his mantra of “love ’em and leave ’em” worked perfectly. He could find nothing simple about his feelings for this woman though. He wanted…what? Exactly what did he want? Forever? Hearts and flowers? White picket fences? Children? He shied away from that thought.
He knew he wanted her. He couldn’t doubt that. The feeling ran like a fever in his blood. He heated just at the thought of her, and when she met him passion for passion, he exploded like an incendiary device. Her passion ran as strong as his. This woman was there with him, but what exactly did that mean for him and the future?
He groaned in his mind. What a mess he continued to make of this…whatever it was. He refused to call it a relationship, that would give it some substantial footing.
His gaze shot to Mellissa. Her eyes were closed as if she were asleep. A wave of tenderness flooded him, and he reached out, but tugged his hand back before touching her. He—Duvall McCord, one of the fastest-promoted captains in history—was in the middle of a mission that could affect the entire Empire, and all he could think of was getting this woman, this bundle of arousing flesh, into his arms and his bed.
Duvall rolled off the bed and headed to the other room. Barsha! Less than ten minutes and Elara and Grayson would arrive in the office for a briefing. He lifted shaking fingers to his forehead. He grabbed their clothes and headed back to the cabin, pulling his clothes from the tangle as he went. He stopped at the cabin door and watched as she looked at him.
“Mellissa, we can’t do this. I need to concentrate on what I’m doing. That means this cannot continue. You and me? It’s great, but I have a commitment to my crew, to the Admiralty, and the Empire. I don’t have time for a relationship.” The words cut through the air around them.
The minute he spoke, he wanted to call the words back. Her face paled and lines appeared at the side of her lips. He had to stop the ties from forming, and if that meant hurting her now, then he would do it. But damn, it felt as if the tendrils had already found their way to his heart and he’d just smashed them. His thoughts fractured.
He closed his eyes, blocking out the look of hurt he knew she felt. Hiding from his own emotions wasn’t adult, but it was all he could do right now as his heart squeezed.
Behind closed eyelids, he hid, listening to the sound of her rising and dressing. No words. Nothing.
A chasm had opened in the time from their explosive encounter to now. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. But what else could he do? In the back of his mind though, in the deepest darkest recesses, something told him that once damaged, this fragile bond might not be repairable.
* * * *
Duvall had shattered her heart without a thought or understanding of just what he’d done. He’d retreated in the most hurtful way anyone could have conceived. He turned his back and dressed silently as she gathered herself.
“Mellissa, I…” He glanced in her direction as they entered his office, but she willed herself to stay quiet and calm, hiding the scream that rose in her mind.
How could he say that? Her heart bled like someone had cut her with a knife. The pain seized her and squeezed until she wanted to cry out with it. Something inside her broke, and her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she wouldn’t give in here.
She would go alone into the world once more. She had gone into this knowing he had promised nothing. They might physically stay on the same ship together until the mission concluded, but she knew how to remain strong. She would not let him see how his actions gutted her.
She firmed her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “I think it would be best if I had my own cabin again.” She congratulated herself, pleased her voice sounded so calm. “I know this was good while we waited to see what would happen, but you need your space and so do I. I’ll move my things out today.” She almost sounded like she meant it, which was fine to her thinking. That well of determination she had built up over the years once more came to her rescue.
He looked at her. There wasn’t a trace of her tender lover left, and she hardened her emotions. “No.” His eyes grew cold like ice on a frozen river.
Her temper rose, but she checked it. After all, they were both under enormous pressure. He had a mission, a very important one, and she understood that. The fate of millions might hang on it. He had a family whose safety was in question.
Biting her lip, she thought over her words. Maybe she needed to phrase it in a way that he didn’t feel that she threatened either his authority or emotions? She told herself his rejection wouldn’t smash the small well of confidence she had left.
“Duvall, after what you have just said, it’s t
he only thing I can do. At least allow me my dignity and space.” Her tone was just right, she told herself. Level, capable, and not clinging. She would have laughed at herself if her heart weren’t breaking into tiny little pieces in her chest. The ache grew every second, larger and heavier. She worried that it would suffocate her.
“No. You’ll stay here with me. I can sleep in here until this mission is finished. We don’t know if there is any other threat aboard. We won’t discuss this again.” As he turned, the pinging of chimes sounded. “Identify,” he snapped out.
Mellissa gritted her teeth. They certainly hadn’t concluded the discussion, she promised herself.
“ST Sudonne and Commander Myatt,” the computerized voice droned.
“Door unlock and open,” he growled.
Mellissa tucked away the need to discuss this again with him at a later time. He was busy, so perhaps if she just did it, he wouldn’t object so strongly. After all, once she’d moved out, he’d surely see the sense in her actions. Yes, she believed that would work best.
She headed for the end seat, thinking that some space would help. She could concentrate better. Elara’s glance as they entered the room asked questions Mellissa didn’t want to answer, so she looked away. Elara must have caught a whiff of the distress in the air, because the frown she aimed at Duvall was tight. Mellissa dropped her head and studied the desk screen that rose out of the table, hoping that if she concentrated on the information on it, she could ignore the burn in her eyes.
“Mellissa, Captain.” Elara acknowledged both as she seated herself. Elara cast a quick look at Grayson, and it was clear he was as confused as Elara.
Mellissa realized that she and Duvall had only left the bridge a short time ago, and no doubt Elara and Grayson wondered what had happened in so little time. Quickly cutting off that thought, Mellissa smiled at them, but she knew Elara had seen the sadness in her eyes and no doubt noticed that she refused to look directly at Duvall.
“Captain, based on the information contained in the mission report, I believe there’s a possibility that WO Gentry has intercepted transmissions that could point to another infiltrator in the Admiralty. Some of the notes she passed to the Admiral before being escorted to Earth indicate that she’s only been aware of this for an limited period of time. One thing she did pinpoint was the use of time travel using the slipstream technology.”
Duvall gave a sharp grunt at the news and tapped quickly at the desk screen. He was obviously reading the reports. Mellissa sat waiting quietly. His mouth tightened further, and when his head rose, he looked directly at her.
“Somehow, you were not just an accident. Based on the limited intelligence we have, I believe that you were chosen to receive the handbook . We need to find out why.” He turned back to Grayson. “How much sooner can we squeeze the travel time to Earth?” he demanded.
“I think we can cut it to a little over twenty-six hours to the portal, but that will mean tightening the slingshot and using max speeds. The engines have not yet run at this speed in the inner solar system, and Raven hasn’t even joined the crew yet. I’m not sure that would be overly wise given the situation.”
Duvall’s brows drew closer together with concern. “You don’t believe we can do that?”
“I can understand your concern, Duvall, but we need to get there in one piece to be of any use.”
“It won’t be an issue. Once Raven comes on board, he’ll get this bird flying optimally.” Grayson opened his mouth, but Duvall held up a hand, stopping him. “However, I will take your suggestion under advisement.”
Chowd entered the room. “I believe that an infiltrator may have already tipped off their associates that we are heading for Gentry.” Everyone in the room looked up at him.
“We need to get there before they reach her. Elara, I need you to make sure we’re ready for anything, especially if we encounter the Ru’Edan once she’s on board.” He closed his eyes.
“Sir, the Admiral already indicated—”
“This is my sister, and given we already know there are issues with security, we need her here. Where she’s going to be safest. If we’re away on the mission and things happen, we won’t be able to get back here. Besides, we could use her knowledge of cyphers.” He chose his words for maximum impact and was rewarded with their nods of agreement.
“Grayson, we need a full briefing of security, and an engineering briefing for Raven once he arrives—you see to that. Chowd can relay any information. I’ve already made contact, and he will come aboard while we’re on Earth.”
He heaved himself up to stand by the table.
“Elara, Grayson, we have to get Meredith out. As quickly and safely as possible. We need the information she’s managed to cobble together. It’s vital to our mission. We won’t jeopardize the momentum we’ve built up. She got the information, we can interpret it while in transit. We’re the first line of defense. Whatever happens next, the Empire must be our first priority.”
And that pretty much makes my position clear, doesn’t it?
He stood up and strode out of the office, leaving them sitting at the table, each engrossed in their own thoughts.
* * * *
Mellissa wandered out of the mess hall, wondering what she should do next. She hadn’t heard from Duvall since he had walked out of the office, and she was pissed. The coffee she’d consumed wired her further.
Okay, so no one had promised a happily ever after, but whatever had occurred to him after that session of sex in his cabin had destroyed any chance of an ongoing relationship. Well, too bad. She’d stewed all afternoon, and frankly, if he couldn’t at least give her the common courtesy of dealing with the situation like an adult, then he could go jump in a lake somewhere. Or asteroid field. Or whatever. And if he thinks I’ll hang around for sex on tap anytime he’s feeling horny, he’s got another thing coming!
Her feet took her to Duvall’s cabin, and as she looked at the door, the answer came to her. She entered the cabin and stomped over to the wardrobe. With vicious swipes, Mellissa scooped up the meager wardrobe she’d assembled. The toiletries.
Stomping down the hall didn’t make her feel better, but at least she didn’t run into anyone. “’Cause that would be just my luck.” Muttering to herself, she initiated the palm swipe on the door of the cabin she’d been assigned.
She dumped her clothes on the bed and glanced at the door. Start as you mean to go on. She wouldn’t give up everything just because one man thought he knew best about how to use her body.
With economical movements, she folded every piece of clothing and thrust them into the wardrobe. “Now what?” Her voice echoed in the near empty room. She heaved a sigh. She could go back to the mess hall, but she might run into him. “No way. Not now.”
The mad was melting away, leaving her feeling lost and alone again. Stay busy, find something to occupy your mind. She could start on George and Eliza’s story again. “But it won’t make any sense.” The words sounded stupid even to her ears. This was her opportunity to make it better. Maybe she should start from the beginning again anyway.
The comms throughout the ship blared. “Captain required on the bridge.”
It was a sign, so she hurried out of her cabin and headed for the mess. Her mood was still sour as she reached the dispenser, grabbing a quick soup and sandwich with a glass of milk, and made her way to a table. She didn’t know anyone well enough to sit with a group, so she chose a seat by itself and made short work of her dinner. Once done, she returned her plates and cup and headed back to the cabin.
Deciding on a quick shower, she hurried through her ablutions. Pulling on a coverall, she headed for the table in the corner and engaged the desk screen before she called up a new file to the screen. She could start the story again.
She moved quickly toward the door and closed it. “How do I lock this thing?”’ she demanded of the computer.
“Lock engaged,” the ship’s computer replied, and she breathed deeply. Grayson ha
d instructed security to ensure she had access to the most basic of programs within the system so she could work, make notes, or continue her education. But none of those seemed appropriate somehow.
“Well, George and Eliza, how would you like a change of scene?” She settled in, and within no time, the story reasserted itself.
This time, she could see the cockpit, the characters, and though she would not admit it, even to herself, George had an uncanny resemblance to Duvall McCord. The book once more opened to her, so much clearer than she had ever seen before, and she knew starting again and fresh had made it so much better. All her earlier incarnations seemed like faded versions now that she had seen and experienced the future. She’d realized she needed to begin it all again, to take advantage of what she now knew.
Working at an almost feverish pace, she tapped away until a pinging interrupted. The security system locater flashed onscreen. Pressing the locator button on the screen, she saw the flashing name. Duvall. She wavered for a minute, considered not answering, but cowardice hadn’t ever been her strong point.
She engaged the audio. “Yes, Captain? Can I help you?” she answered with a calm and distant tone.
“Where are you?” he demanded. He sounded mighty upset. Well, too bad. So was she.
“I’m in my cabin working. Is there something I can do for you?” Her fingers jittered over the screen, betraying her agitation.
“Get yourself back to my cabin now,” he growled.
She could almost see him in her mind. Angry. Oh yes, no doubt about that. His face tight, those magnificent lips thinned and white. His fingers stabbing through his hair in agitation. He probably stood next to his desk. She’d noticed he hated to sit when he was annoyed.
“No. We went through this earlier. You need your space, and I need mine. Now if you don’t mind, I’m about to retire for the night.” She quickly toggled the comm to off. “Desk screen, save and disengage program.” She scurried toward the empty bed as she gave the commands and crawled between the cold sheets. “Lights off,” she commanded.
