by Naomi Lucas
That’s exactly what he wants me to do. She jerked back.
“I want you to help me pass the time,” he sighed. “Distract me.”
Elodie hummed and nodded. “I’ll try.” If he was willing to give her food, then she could at least talk to him for a little while. “So what do you want to talk about?”
“What did you do before this?” Gunner asked, waving his hand. The question was innocuous and took her by surprise.
“I was a machiner, like most of the others here. I maintained mining tech at all stages of the process, it’s what I was trained to do and what I’m good at.”
“So you like machines...”
“They make sense, they don’t change, and you don’t need to be anything but what you are around them. Once you learn what you’re doing, what you need to look for, how to maintain it, there’s nothing more you need to know. They’re easy.”
“Yeah they are,” he laughed under his breath and she was unsure why. “So machines... It’s what you’ve done your whole life?”
“Yes.”
“And you like what you’re doing?”
Did she? “Sure.”
“I just don’t see it. How does someone like you get into a field like that? And mining of all things... Can you do a more boring job? Although doing machines doesn’t all have to be boring.”
Elodie narrowed her eyes. “Someone like me?”
“Forgive me. I phrased that wrong. Someone so clearly ill-equipped like you to go into a field like that? You seem more,” he paused but continued before she could interject, “more like the type to go into—I don’t know—something less physically demanding? Like medicine. Or food service...”
She sat back, her body settling against the wall as she debated on how to answer. She slid her hands back into her pockets and curled her fingers. Her dad came to mind, and the long hours of her youth at his side. He was the reason why she did what she did, learning the trade that he worked in because it was easy, and because there’d been nothing better to do. Once her mom died, he signed on for an extended multi-year contract with the government, knowing full well he wasn’t returning to civilization, or to her if she chose to stay behind. Elodie let his choices become her own and not a day had gone by where she wasn’t sure if she regretted it or not.
He dressed her up like a boy, sheared off her long hair, and bought her new clothes. Even as a child she knew what he was doing and never argued or fought against it. Chesnik never offered her another option and she never really tried to pursue it. No one fought him on his choices, not since her mom died, and she became his apprentice, a young boy learning his father’s trade. The persona was easy and involved little effort on her part.
For years it worked, flawlessly, going from one job to the next, moving unnoticed like all worker bees did. Until she got her first period and her body started to change.
“I’ve offended you.” His voice jolted her back to the present.
“I was thinking... I joined because it was my dad’s trade and it was easy.”
He leveled her a hard look that she couldn’t read. “That answers one thing. I really didn’t want to call you an idiot for terrible vocational choices.”
That made her bristle.
“But I’m still confused on why you stayed.”
Because I knew nothing else! Elodie wanted to shout at him. She hated that he voiced her own brewing questions so easily. She gritted her teeth and clenched her hands, feeling the tension rise before letting it go.
“I stayed for my dad,” she said.
“And where is he now? Dead?”
“He’s somewhere on this ship,” her voice wavered. “And now I don’t know if he’s dead.”
Gunner sat upright and clasped the bar between them. She stiffened and leaned back. “He’s on this ship?”
Elodie swallowed and nodded. “They took him in the last recruitment. The cycle before you arrived and took his cell.”
“What does he look like?” he asked, his voice harder, lower than before, making her heart beat faster.
“Why does it matter?”
“Tell me.”
Elodie clenched her hands tighter. “Bald. He’s bald and tall, taller than me with thin wrinkles. He’s missing two fingers on his left hand and both hands and arms are covered in scars. Like mine.” She lifted her arms to show him, tracing some of the burns she’d received over the years and showing the pads of her fingers where her skin had healed over a dozen times. “But a lot more and a lot worse.”
Gunner relaxed, visibly, as he eyed her hand. “Good,” he said confusing her even more.
“Why good?”
“He wasn’t one of the men I killed last night.”
She couldn’t tell if he was taunting her or not and she leaned back slightly to get a better look at him. It didn’t help. Nothing about Gunner was easy to read.
“So that’s why you said this cell doesn’t belong to me. I get it now,” he huffed. “Speaking of which,” he got to his feet and slowly spun in a full circle before stopping and facing her again. “I need to mark.”
Elodie frowned. “You need to what?”
But he was already cupping the clasp of his pants and unzipping them. It took her several damning moments of confusion until she realized what he was doing, shifting his clothes and grasping his dick. She twisted away, scrambling to the center of her own cell, but not before she saw it.
“You might want to turn away.” He chuckled low, making her ears burn and an unpleasant blush heat her skin. I saw it. I saw his cock.
A faint stream of water toyed with her disgust as she grappled with what the hell was happening. He continued to taunt her as he moved around and she pressed her palms hard against her closed eyes.
“You know, Ely, it’s rude to look when a man is...doing his business. Someone should have taught you that by now.” Low raspy laughs punctuated his words.
“I didn’t look,” she stammered, embarrassed. Not because she hadn’t seen dick in her life but that it was his dick.
“Tsk, tsk.”
She counted down the seconds, waiting for it to stop, and hoping to god that none of it reached her space so she wouldn’t have to smell the stench of urine all night. Who the hell is this man?
Damnit, I’m giving myself away again...
Elodie lowered her hands and peered over her shoulder. Gunner’s back was toward her. She sucked in a shaky breath and recomposed herself, pleased with the courage she was able to muster to look at him dead on.
And then he turned to the side, holding his cock, and she regretted every decision she had made in the last twenty-four years of her life. Because Gunner was big.
He stopped and their eyes caught, his widened in shock, knowing hers looked the same. She released a long strenuous, almost painful whistle of air while waiting for the next move. His shock was short-lived, ending in a knowing smile she wanted to tear right off. But she had already played her cards and refused to back down.
“Curious?” Gunner cleared his throat and faced her, giving her full frontal viewing access. Elodie dropped her gaze because she was curious, and shrugged.
“I expected more.”
“What do you mean, more?”
Gunner’s cock hardened before her eyes. His hand stroked it once, slow and deliberate. His long fingers wrapped around his own girth. Her legs clamped together and she shrugged again. Suddenly she was even more thankful for the jacket; it was one more layer to hide her newly found shock and horror behind.
He just peed. On everything. And I’m focused on his size.
Elodie felt more messed up by the second.
“More,” she stammered. “Don’t act so offended. Not everyone can be well endowed.”
That’s right. My dick is bigger than yours. It is now, at least. Now that she had a mental image to go by.
He tucked his erection away with a grunt but a heavy protruding tent remained. “You want to compare sizes?”
“No.”
“Drop your pants and let’s see.”
“I don’t drop my pants for men, only women,” she said quickly, her heart beating a little faster. “You’re clearly not a woman.”
“Clearly not.” He laughed again. “But now you have me curious if I have a contender. I can’t have a contender.”
“Why is that?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“Because the first woman I see is mine.”
She stiffened—heart racing—wanting to jump right out of her chest. The words that came out of his mouth were words she didn’t want to hear.
“And I won’t have her running off with a man with a better package. Women have a million men to choose from out in space, I need to make sure they don’t look past me.”
Elodie shrunk under the pressure of his gaze, feeling his intensity like she always did, straight to the very core. It left all her layers behind in ashes, weak and useless on the floor. Her tongue felt too big for her mouth.
She watched warily as he reclaimed his spot next to the bars, draping his arms over his knees, keenly aware that the tent of his pants appeared to grow bigger the closer he got to her. It’s just my imagination.
The tension between them was stifling and it was too thick for her to respond. She couldn’t think of a good retort. Her silence had always been a shield for her but now it felt no better than yet another prison.
What if he finds out I’m a woman after all? The question made her shiver and she wished again for the darkness to return.
As time crept by, all types of thoughts filled her head as she tried to imagine what Gunner had really meant. It made her feel things she didn’t need to be feeling, because the idea had an allure to it.
‘Because the first woman I see is mine.’
Mine. The word held weight. It drew her in. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them, squeezing her legs together as much as she could. A knot grew in her belly, a faded yet forming bloom of arousal.
Elodie choked back a self-deprecating giggle. Weeks in a cell, barely fed, and covered in dirt, and now...fucking aroused. It was laughable. It really was.
She tried to argue it out. Surely what she felt wasn’t actually arousal but something else, something less feminine, possibly affection. But the idea was shot down as soon as it arose. She didn’t want to hug Gunner, or crawl into his lap and nuzzle him, to whisper sweet nothings in his ear. She didn’t want to sneak a soft kiss through the gaps of the metal between them. It wasn’t affection she felt.
Maybe she’d chalk it up to lust. Animal magnetism. Elodie plucked at her lower lip. After everything that had happened—that was still going to happen—a little relief from the stress seemed like a good idea. At least her body felt that way.
Elodie got to her feet and started to pace. The smell followed her as did his eyes; she didn’t need to spare him a glance to know. Her sixth sense had come out strong since he was thrown into the cell next to hers.
“Ely.”
She stopped in her tracks.
“Come back to me,” Gunner beckoned.
She didn’t move.
“Please.” He said it so low she wasn’t sure if she’d actually heard it. She turned to face him and slithered back down to her spot next to him.
“Thank you.” His head fell on the bars, and Elodie was taken aback by how tired he looked.
“Are you okay?” she asked, suddenly concerned.
“Am I?”
Her eyes went to the food rations that he hadn’t touched, sitting on the other side. “You need to eat. You haven’t eaten yet.”
“I’m not hungry for food...”
Elodie shook her head and crawled forward, and she heard him lift up to watch her as she positioned her shoulder into gap closest to the food. She dropped the jacket, snaked her fingers through, twisting her wrist, pushing her limb between the small space. It was slow going and for once she found her emaciated body helpful. The cold metal rubbed the skin of her arms uncomfortably as she strained and reached, spreading her fingers out, managing to roll both water gels in her direction.
She wiggled the ration closer until she was able to grip it between the tips of her fingers. Pulling out was just as difficult.
With her conquest complete, and the food in her hands, she went back to Gunner, who hadn’t moved during the entire demonstration. He hadn’t shot up to grab a hold of her, but simply looked at her with a tired fascination. Elodie pushed back her bangs and offered him the nourishment. “You need to eat. The first days are the worst.”
“Why don’t you keep it?” His eyes flashed red, startling her, but returned to their milky dead sheen soon after.
“I’m not hungry.” She pushed the food back into his cell. A peace offering. “And because I don’t want to know what happens to those that steal from you.”
“They die.”
“There you go.” Elodie pushed the food a little farther in and jerked her fingers back out. “Good enough reason not to eat your food.”
“I’m not hungry for food,” he whispered.
“What are you hungry for?”
His crimson irises staked her to the spot. It was all the answer she needed, as damning as the moment she decided to speak to him in the first place. His stare spoke more than any amount of words uttered ever could.
Her fate was sealed.
She turned away slowly and curled up on her side. Squeezing her eyelids shut, she pressed her hand hard over her heart, and wished for the sanctuary of her grey place. How she longed to go there and never return.
He knows.
Chapter Nine
GUNNER CURSED.
And cursed.
A long stream of angry profanity went through his head without stopping. Ely had shut him out.
He didn’t know why it bothered him so fucking much but it did, and the longer he had to endure, the angrier he became. Time ran like a never-ending loop in his systems, and the amount of time that had passed since she shut down had been less than twelve cruel Earthian hours. Twelve. He was already an impatient man but what patience he did have was sorely being tested.
Gunner grabbed the bars between them and rested his forehead against them. He hadn’t moved them from her since she had turned her back to him. He knew he should be focusing on breaking down the ship’s systems from within, should be poking at the encryptions that he had yet to break, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
The secret was sucking the air out from between them, making it hard to breathe, and making her scurry away like a frightened animal. The canines buried in his gums poked at his current set of teeth, wanting to be released, wanting to hunt down and bury deep into the animal that skirted him. The metal was hot beneath his clenching fingers.
“Ely...” he said, hoping for a twitch, but she gave him nothing. And Gunner had the eyes of half the prisoners leering at his back.
How could they not notice? The more he ignored them, the more interested they became, and the more interested they became, the more he wanted to kill them off so they’d no longer parade at the edge of his thoughts.
Kallan’s intermittent chuckles no longer sounded human to him, nor did the other voices that spoke. The coughs and grunts from the others held no meaning anymore: they did nothing but make his jackal hunger for silence.
“Ely,” Gunner called out to her again. His eyes traced the curves of her frame, taking in the way her short hair fell over her ears, her eyes when he could see them, and the way her legs clamped together and shifted closer to her body whenever he spoke...and the way his jacket fell over her as if in protection... From him.
Fuck!
“Give up already,” Kallan grunted. “My boy here isn’t a talker.”
Gunner had never wanted to strangle the life out of another man so much. The metal bent beneath his grip. Kallan could at least see her face where Gunner could only see the back of her head. Kallan called Ely his boy and Gunner had nothing to call her.
Even t
he thought that the squirrely, greasy man made a claim to Ely enraged him. She was his. At least for now.
He made his threats, to her no less, and there was only one way for the two of them to go from here. Even if she didn’t realize it, the moment she put his jacket on, he had marked her. His smell, his property, surrounded her and held her captive in a little bubble of his making. His cock jerked in his pants.
“For fuck’s sake, talk to me!” Gunner roared—not caring who overheard—and released the bars before he crushed them. Excitement shot through him when she sat up, startled, and looked his way.
She looked like a frightened animal. Wide-eyed. Heart racing. Fear.
He pressed closer to the bars, as close as he could get. For a moment, he was convinced to give up on the ship—his ship—break into her cell, and take her in front of everyone, especially Kallan, and leave.
Would she follow? They stared at each other and he willed her to turn around and face him. She remained still.
“Would you follow?” he asked, uncaring who heard.
Her face clouded over in confusion. Her brows furrowed and her lips twisted. He had an urge to lick them—to lick the sweat and strain off her features and keep licking until his saliva coated her skin in a wet sheen, until his tongue found her cunt and there were no more barriers between them.
“What?” Ely shuffled to sit upright.
“I could take you,” he said, lowering his voice. She edged closer, head tilted, still confused.
“I could take you...but would you follow?”
The thought made his cock twitch.
A look of comprehension flushed her features, and a toothy grin spread across his face. His nostrils flared as the heady smell of blossoming fear filled the air between them. Her blossoming fear. Ely stopped moving his way and gave him her most vulnerable, horrible expression. The idea of taking her here and now, sweat, dirt, and grime included made him even harder. His cockhead rubbed at his pants, fighting for release.
“Come closer,” he lured.
“No.”
“We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. Talking to you was a mistake.” She shifted to turn away and he moved to break whatever he needed too to stop her, but the zipping whoosh of the brig door opening stopped both of them.
