Mandrake Company- The Complete Series

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  “It’s not my fault you got yourself shot and then locked me out of sickbay, so we couldn’t have our tender moments. Though I do appreciate that you pushed me down and took the bullet for me. That was very noble.”

  “Noble people shouldn’t be left alone and forlorn in their quarters.” The captain’s footsteps thudded up the ramp.

  “Forlorn?” Ankari was still standing in front of the clinic. Shouldn’t she fling herself into his arms now, so he could carry her up to their cabin? “You?”

  “Me,” he rumbled, his voice close to Ankari’s now.

  She giggled—odd, Ankari never giggled—but the talking ended after that. Kissing and sucking sounds replaced the words. A thump sounded—someone being pushed against a wall? Whatever it was, it elicited a grunt from the captain and another laugh from Ankari.

  With growing dread, Jamie realized they might not go to their cabin. She looked left and right, trying to spot a way to escape without being seen. The shuttle controls were to the left, and there was no door up there. The hatch was to the right, but between the bed for the patients, the counter, and those storage bins bolted to the deck back there, she didn’t think she could squeeze out that way. She would have to go out straight ahead, and then turn for the hatch. Except that all the kissing and sucking was coming from that direction.

  Jamie debated whether to clear her throat or stand up and rush out with an apology. That would be the logical thing to do, but shouldn’t she have done that five minutes ago, if she was going to? When Ankari had been chatting to a client? Now it would be… weird. They would think she had been sitting in here like some perverted voyeur, enjoying the listen. As if she was in the mood for anything of the sort after being mauled by that bounty hunter.

  And yet… there was maybe a teeny tiny part of her that wondered how sex might be between two people who actually cared about each other. So far, her experience had been limited to books and movies—and now orgies and would-be rapists. Still, she wasn’t going to stay here and listen. It would be ninety-nine degrees of awkward if they discovered her at some point. What if they decided to come in the clinic and use the bed?

  Jamie’s mouth dropped open, as that suddenly seemed more and more probable. Where else would they get horizontal? On the deck? In a chair? The chairs weren’t that big, nor did they recline. It was doubtlessly only a matter of time before they pushed aside the curtain and stumbled across her. There was no way they would miss her, even if she was tucked in beside the end of the counter.

  Jamie rolled to her knees, careful not to make any noise. From the sound of things, Ankari and the captain were quite involved with each other. Maybe if she stayed low, she could slip out without them noticing.

  She inched around the bed and toward the curtain, though her heart rate tripled in the seconds it took her to reach it. She was becoming more and more certain that she would get caught and that it was far too late to explain her presence. She imagined trying to tell them that she had fallen asleep on the bed and just woken up and was wondering what all the thumping and kissing was about. Somewhere during her crying fit, half of her hair had fallen out of her braids, so maybe they would believe that. Or maybe they would simply give her a weird look, write her off as a pervert, and ensure every future interaction they had was awkward.

  Jamie stifled a groan. Could this day get any worse?

  She reached the curtain, her weight on one knee and one foot. She was either ready to crawl to freedom or sprint from humiliation. One of the two.

  As she was about to part the curtain slightly to check on her options, Ankari spoke. Jamie froze.

  “Still feeling forlorn?” Ankari asked breathlessly, her words muffled, like she was kissing and talking at the same time.

  “Less so,” Mandrake murmured. “Keep going.” He wasn’t quite as breathless as Ankari, but his voice had a gentleness to it that Jamie had never heard. That softness in his words, even more than the kissing sounds, made Jamie’s cheeks heat to scalding with shame, shame that she was in here, intruding on their moment.

  She parted the curtain a few millimeters, hoping to find her opportunity to escape. Two crumpled shirts lay on the deck in front of her. The captain leaned against the wall, no more than three feet from Jamie’s spot, his torso bare, his belt unfastened and his trousers barely hanging from his hips. Ankari was running her hands up and down his sides and kissing his chest, rasping her tongue across his nipples, then sucking them. She smiled and looked up at him as she did so. He made contented grumbles, his fingers tangled in her hair, massaging her scalp.

  Jamie looked away, her cheeks hot for another reason now. She found herself thinking of the spa again, of that overwhelming desire she’d had to lick Sergei’s chest. Had he enjoyed it? The way the captain was enjoying Ankari’s attention?

  In the spa, Jamie had only been answering her own drug-addled desires, and she hadn’t looked up at him to see. Sergei had carried her out, rather than standing there to accept more tongue explorations. But maybe he had only wanted to do the decent thing, to protect her from all those watching eyes. She wished she knew what he had been thinking. Had he been aroused by that moment? By her? When he had said he loved her in the grow room, had that meant in a non-platonic way? How could he love her after only a week? Then again, should she be surprised, given that he had told her the details of his tormented past on the second day they had known each other?

  How did she feel about him? She wasn’t even sure. She liked him. She had sensed he needed a friend when they had first met, and for some reason, she had wanted to be that person. She had been eager to go off on adventures with him too. She had made excuses to do so, coming up with plans that involved her going with him to help. But was it because she loved him? Maybe not yet, but she was finding it hard to dismiss the image of his bare chest at that moment. Maybe it was the licks and soft groans that continued to come from the other side of the curtain, but she imagined herself showing up at Sergei’s cabin, asking him to remove his shirt, and then seeing how much they both enjoyed it.

  More than her cheeks were heated now. Her groin tingled, feeling hot and tight. She needed to escape. Sitting there, getting aroused while her friend and her friend’s lover were having sex wasn’t right. But if Ankari still had her head lower than the captain’s, he was sure to see Jamie if she tried to slip out. He was facing the damned curtain.

  She parted it ever so slightly again, hoping the captain might have turned away. Jamie didn’t want Ankari to see her, either, but that would be less horrible than him spotting her.

  “How about now?” Ankari asked, her voice coming from lower. She was kneeling on the deck now, the back of her head barely higher than Jamie’s.

  “What?” the captain gasped.

  Ankari turned her head, and his erect penis came into view. She slid her tongue along it as she cupped his balls, stroking them gently.

  “Your level of forlornness. Is it going down?” Her voice was full of amusement now. She was teasing him, Jamie realized. His chest was rising and falling deeply, quickly. He wanted sex right there and now—or oral sex, Jamie supposed it was, a detached part of her labeling and cataloguing things. Another part of her, the part attached to the heat building in her groin, was too busy observing what she had always been too shy to watch in movies to think straight. As if this wasn’t much worse than watching some vid. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to let the curtain slip shut. Curiosity burned in her mind, and her eyes were surely rounder than full moons. She couldn’t tear them away.

  “Not yet,” Mandrake whispered.

  “I had no idea you were so needy.”

  “It’s been over a week.”

  “You used to go months between rented women, or so you told me.” Ankari ran her tongue to the tip of his penis, then took him in her mouth, cupping him with her lips.

  The captain groaned, arching his hips toward her. “I was a different man then,” he said, panting almost. Sweat slithered down his chest, disappearing into
his dark, curly pubic hair. “I’ve changed. I have green hand towels now.”

  Ankari withdrew enough to laugh and say, “That means you need sex more often?” Then she took him more deeply. One of her hands held the base of his penis while the other gripped his butt, as if she wanted him closer, needed this as much as he did.

  “It means—” She did something with her tongue or sucked in a different way, and he gasped, his head nearly cracking the wall as it fell backward. “Ankari,” he groaned her name.

  She was moving faster up and down his shaft now, and he stopped talking, too busy panting.

  It occurred to Jamie that this might be her chance to escape. The captain was looking at the ceiling and his eyes were probably rolled back in his head. Ankari’s eyes were closed as she drew his penis in and out. A part of Jamie wanted to stay, to see what else they did, to maybe slip her hand down between her own legs and try to find some release from the moist heat building there, but she reminded herself that they would likely want to use that bed at some point.

  Jamie shifted both feet under her, widened the curtain a centimeter more, testing. She knew she would have to open it more than that to slip through, but her heart was pounding in her chest, and the fear of being caught made her hand shake. She didn’t think she made a noise, but she must have brushed the curtain, sent a ripple through it, because the captain’s head came down abruptly.

  Jamie froze like an animal in the hunter’s sights, her brain unable to process information, unable to decide what to do. He looked right at her. He couldn’t have seen much through that centimeter of curtain, but he knew she was there, no doubt. Her excuse. What had it been? Falling asleep? Her thoughts were a jumble, and she couldn’t think of anything that made sense. Flee. That was what she should do. He wouldn’t try to stop her, would he? Demand an explanation?

  “Ankari,” the captain said, touching the side of her face. He was breathing heavily, trying to gather himself, and Jamie gulped, knowing he was about to tell Ankari about her, or ask her to deal with her wayward business partner.

  “Hm?” Ankari murmured, teasing him again with her tongue.

  Maybe he would be so distracted by her that he would totally forget about the peeper behind the curtain.

  “Let me return the favor,” he said and bent to lift her into his arms.

  “Oh? Before…?”

  “Yeah.” He kissed her and carried her toward the front of the shuttle, his back to the clinic and the hatch, his torso blocking Ankari’s view.

  Jamie couldn’t believe her luck. Either he hadn’t seen her, after all, or he was giving her a chance to escape. She slipped out, staying low, only glancing back once. A silly part of her wanted to stop and protest the naked butt plastered onto the control station. She set her coffee and donut there in the mornings, ew.

  Not important, she reminded herself, and hustled down the ramp, careful not to let her shoes ring on the metal. Even though the view screen in the shuttle had been turned off, she took a circular route to the steps, not wanting either of them to see her, hoping neither really had. Maybe the captain didn’t know for sure who had been behind the curtain. Though he could doubtlessly guess. It wasn’t as if Lauren could be torn from her microscope for long enough to gawk at an erect penis.

  Jamie didn’t relax until she had escaped the shuttle bay and could lean against the wall next to the closed door. Her hands were still shaking, as if she had been in combat rather than peeping at Ankari and Mandrake. She was even breathing heavily, rattled from the situation.

  “Yes, being a pervert is hard,” she whispered, then glanced both ways, making sure she was alone in the corridor.

  She ought to go back to her cabin, turn off the lights, and get some sleep. But as she stood there, in relative safety, she started thinking about what Ankari had been doing, how much the captain had enjoyed it. And how tender he had been with her. It was a side of him that Jamie had never seen. Sergei wasn’t as gruff and aloof as the captain day-to-day, but she wondered if he would be different if they were… lovers. What would it feel like to have his hands tangled in her hair? To have him gazing down at her with adoration? To—she blushed before the thought even fully formed—slip her lips around his penis and hear him groan her name. She wondered what favor exactly the captain had intended to give to Ankari after Jamie left, and a dirty part of her wished she could watch the rest of their lovemaking session. For educational purposes, of course. Or maybe she could simply ask Sergei about favors.

  Except that she had pushed him away in the grow room. He had been worried and relieved she was all right, but when he had hugged her, she had backed up. She hadn’t processed it at the time, but now that she thought about it, she remembered his hurt look, especially after Ankari had frowned at him, as if to imply he were some kind of animal for hugging her. Granted the kiss had surprised her, his short beard rasping against her jaw, but it hadn’t been a lustful kiss. It had been an I-was-so-worried-about-you-and-I’m-relieved-I-got-here-in-time kiss. He had saved her from a horrible fate, and she had rejected him.

  She hung her head. Here she had been crying and pitying herself when she had probably left him feeling just as rotten. More rotten. Unwelcome, unloved.

  She couldn’t go back to her cabin now. She needed to talk to him. About more than favors.

  13

  Sergei was exercising, hanging upside down from the curl-up bar again, when the door chime sounded. After the meeting with the captain, he had thought of working off his lust with his hand, as Hazel had more or less suggested, but the last time he had seen Jamie, she’d had blood smearing her face and a torn shirt. That was the image that filled his mind when he thought of her, and it made him want to hurt people, not get off. Granted, he had already killed the person who had attacked her, but there was the mission to the planet to think of. That Laframboise woman was ultimately responsible for Jamie being attacked, so he would drive a dagger into her chest with relish. Knowing she had been a counselor in the Fleet would only make it that much more satisfying.

  “Come in,” Sergei said.

  He couldn’t imagine who would come by his room this late, but maybe it was Mandrake. Maybe he had changed his mind and wanted to order Sergei to take someone other than Jamie on the mission.

  When the door slid aside, Sergei’s breath caught. Even upside-down, he had no trouble recognizing his guest.

  “Jamie,” he blurted.

  He hung there stupidly, stunned that she had come, then worried as to why she had come. To tell him to stay away from her? To tell him he was an idiot? That she didn’t want anything to do with his mission?

  “Sergei,” she said softly, hesitantly. “Are you, uhm, busy?” She stared at him, doubtlessly wondering why he was hanging upside down.

  “No. Just passing the time.” He tried a quick smile, then flipped down, twisting so he landed facing her. Her hair, usually back in a braid or two, hung about her face, wavy and disheveled, but attractively so. She had washed and changed clothes since he had seen her last, and there was no sign of the blood. The doctor must have given her something to help with the swelling, too, because her cut lip looked fine, and a bruise on her throat was the only sign of the attack.

  Realizing he was staring, Sergei shrugged apologetically. But she wasn’t looking at his face and didn’t seem to notice. Her gaze was lower, toward his bare chest. For a minute, his fantasy of her licking his belly—and other things—leaped to his thoughts, and his groin swelled, pressing against his trousers. He barely kept from rolling his eyes at himself. Hazel had been right. He did radiate lust.

  “Sorry,” Sergei said and headed for the bed where he had left his shirt. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  Jamie stepped forward and caught his wrist before he could pick up the shirt. The wrist had to be the least erogenous zone on the body, but her touch sent another surge of desire through him. She looked up at him, her eyes large and wholesome, and he gulped, certain she knew his every lascivious thought.
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  “Are you planning to throw me?” he asked lightly, hoping to deflect attention from his thoughts and from the fact that there was a rocket trying to escape from his trousers.

  “I…”

  “I heard you’ve been tossing the boys in the intelligence department around.” Sergei couldn’t help it; he beamed at her with pride.

  She flushed and looked at his chest. He hoped she wouldn’t look lower.

  “That one wasn’t that intelligent,” Jamie said. “He was mostly mean.”

  “Mean?” Sergei asked. It came out as a growl. He told himself she had already handled the man and didn’t need his help, but he couldn’t sublimate his protective instincts.

  “Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Is there… something else you want to talk about?” Sergei asked, hyperaware that she was still gazing at his chest. His naked chest. He had been working out for a while before she had come, and sweat was still dripping from his hair and running down his torso. He should put his shirt on, make an attempt to appear decent for her, but she hadn’t let go of his wrist.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  She met his eyes again, a question in her own, as if she was asking for permission for something. Before he could puzzle out the what, she leaned forward and kissed his collarbone.

  Her lips were lighter than the wings of a butterfly, but they were electric, sending a bolt of energy charging through his veins. An urge rushed into his mind, to pick her up and carry her to the bed, but he kept himself from moving, not the faintest hair. He didn’t want to scare her away. Her lips lingered, and she kissed him again, lowering her head as she went, following the swell of his pectoral muscle. Goosebumps formed on his damp flesh, and a delicious heat built anywhere her lips went. He longed to touch her face, to stroke her hair, but he didn’t want to interrupt her. He wanted to let her explore, to touch, to kiss anything she wished.