His cock stirred with interest as he studied her mouth. He'd had the distinct feeling when he was kissing her that she was within a hair's breadth of yielding. He allowed his gaze to wander down the smooth turn of her neck to the rise and fall of her breasts, straining against the coarse, silver fabric with each breath she took and felt his cock stir once more, lifting its head with interest.
No, it wouldn't be bad at all, he thought, smiling with lazy satisfaction and making no attempt to conceal his arousal.
Breanna straightened from her lounging posture on the bench, uncomfortably aware of Caleb's silent appraisal. She was determined not to let him see how he affected her, or even to acknowledge that she was aware of his interest, however, and firmly resisted the urge to squirm or to check the buttons on her uniform.
Who does he think he is anyway? she thought with irritation. No one, most especially no one under her command, had ever studied her with such blatant sexual speculation. He was going to have a hard time if he thought such insults rested easily with her, she thought as she turned her head in his direction and sent him the chilliest look she could muster, resolutely ignoring the long, hard ridge in his uniform, particularly when it occurred to her that he'd done it to be deliberately provocative.
As Caleb stared into the icy depths of Breanna's eyes, it occurred to him that she was trying to scare him off. Well, she was going to find out he didn't frighten quite so easily as the others she'd obviously tried that on, he thought with an inward chuckle as he held her gaze and allowed a slow, provocative smile to curl his lips. That smile widened into a full fledged grin, but he wasn't particularly amused by her lack of reaction. He was accustomed to getting some kind of reaction out of a woman with that smile.
He was fully prepared to stare her down, in fact relished the challenge, when he heard Luis Salvatore say his name in the midst of a conversation from further on down the ship. When he glanced back in her direction, he saw that she'd gone back to ignoring him.. gone back to pretending to ignore him, he mentally amended with a touch of satisfaction. Another time, he mused as he rose from the bench, stretching his arms in the air and facing the men at the back of the ship.
“Speak of the devil,” Luis said at Caleb's approach.
“And he appears,” Caleb finished, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
Luis chuckled, smiling and elbowing Angus Grzegorczyk in the ribs. No one could pronounce Angus’ last name—the Polish just had a way with them.
Angus, leaning his broad, six foot four frame against a steel support beam, was a complete opposite of the Spanish man who hung with him like a shadow. Theirs seemed an unlikely friendship on pretty much every level. Angus was a virtual giant, blond, blue-eyed, and heavily muscled. Louis was almost his direct opposite; short, dark, and slender, and the physical difference alone seemed enough to preclude any possibility of friendship given the rivalry commonplace among men, but their temperaments were polar, as well. Angus was as good natured and laid back as they came, hard to rile and well liked. Luis had a temper like a powder keg with a short fuse, but since it was generally as short lived as it was explosive, he was nearly as well liked as Angus. People were just more careful what they said when they were around him.
“You heard any new jokes, my friend?” Luis asked as Caleb approached, his eyes gleaming with mischief, which Caleb correctly interpreted as a solicitation of something he hoped would get a rise out of Angus. The mischievous glance he cast at Angus confirmed it. Angus, scowled, but gave no other indication that he was aware of the laughing Spaniard, seemingly immersed in the task of cleaning his fingernails.
Caleb felt a tug of amusement. He enjoyed ragging Angus almost as much as Luis did. “Yeah, I got a new joke.” He chuckled at the wary glance Angus sent in his direction as he settled his own six foot frame into a seat nearby. Drawn by the scent of mischief in the air, a few other members of the group wandered over and settled opposite him.
“Couldn't get a rise out of the ice queen, huh?” Angus asked offhandedly, holding his hand away from him and studying it.
Caleb's brows rose at the comment, but he kept his smile firmly in place. “What makes you think I was trying?"
“You're always trying ... Oagh—” Angus broke off as Luis jabbed him in the ribs ... again. Growling, Angus swatted at the quick, lithe figure as if he was a pesky fly.
Pleased than he'd managed to provoke Angus into stirring himself even that much, the Spaniard assumed the matador's stance. “Hey, Bull. Yeah ... toro toro."
Angus sent him a look and went back to cleaning his nails.
Obviously irritated now, Luis charged Angus instead, holding his fingers like bull horns. Angus waited until Luis was almost upon him and made another swipe at him. He missed, but he caught Luis by surprise. When he leapt out of the way, he crashed headlong into James Corbett, Greg Zane, and Fenton Kingsley, who were occupying the bench opposite Caleb.
“Y'all don't get too rowdy,” Corbett complained without heat, making a kissing motion at Luis as he rolled him off his lap. Luis frowned, but made an effort to shrug his little mishap off, merely sending Angus a look that promised retribution.
Caleb flicked a causal glance in Breanna's direction to gauge her reaction to the horse play. She'd noticed, but it was obvious she didn't find it the least amusing. Does the woman ever smile, he thought as his eyes lingered on the smooth, full lips pressed tightly together in distaste. Feeling faintly irritated, he returned his attention to the group as Amy Clayborne pushed her way through, paused to whisper in Luis’ ear, then continued, taking a seat near Breanna.
“Do you guys want to hear a joke or what?” he asked lazily, his gaze still on Amy, who bobbed her head in laughing approval.
Breanna divided a glance between him and Amy and their eyes locked for a heartbeat. It was long enough, however, to convince him she wasn't quite as disinterested in him as she was trying to pretend.
He returned his attention to the group as Ahmad Jackson spoke. “Yeah, man. Tell it."
Corbett and Jackson eyed him expectantly. The others turned to look at the scowling giant towering over them, knowing the joke would be at his expense.
Caleb sent Angus a speculative glance. “This guy, Bob Kowalski emigrates from Poland to America...."
Angus flushed a bright red and sent Caleb a look, but he laughed good naturedly when Caleb delivered the punch line.
Breanna leaned back against the cold wall of steel behind her as she and Amy Clayborne listened to the loud laughter of the men. “They always get like this when they're about to go on a mission. They'll settle down soon enough,” Amy said as she ran a hand through her platinum hair and studied Luis.
Contrary to what Amy apparently thought, Breanna completely agreed. So long as they were all business when they arrived at their destination, she could only consider it a good thing that their morale was high enough to allow for laughter. Just listening to them was enough to ease some of her own tension. A sigh of regret escaped her as it flickered through her mind to wonder what it would be like to be a part of the group, one the guys. If she'd been a man, it would've been safe enough to allow for a little camaraderie, but she had enough trouble as it was commanding the respect of her men. As a woman, she couldn't afford it.
On the other hand, she'd never seemed to fit in, even before she'd become a captain in the marines.
Sighing yet again, she pillowed her head on her arm and studied the men seated around Caleb as he elaborated on another story. He not only seemed popular with the men, he seemed to be a natural leader. She wondered why he seemed to have no interest in building a successful career. Further delving into his file had uncovered some fairly impressive achievements—metals for bravery under fire, and for rescuing fellow solders among them—but he had not only ignored a number of recommendations for officer's school, he appeared to have made a habit of maintaining his current grade by managing to get busted down every time he was promoted. He was a curiosity indeed. She'd first thought he'd b
een denied the higher classification, but obviously he didn't want it.
What would make a person choose to remain a grunt when he was obviously meant to command? Something had happened to him several years ago to rob him of ambition, but what?
She didn't particularly like mysterious people. She preferred them to be direct and honest, yet she couldn't help but feel curious of behavior so completely alien to her own.
Without really thinking about it, Breanna allowed her gaze to take in Caleb's long, lean form, beginning at the heel of the boots he had propped negligently on the bench across from him. The interesting bulge at the juncture of his thighs, snagged her interest for a handful of heartbeats before she moved on again, over the broad plane of his chest, hidden now behind the silver, formfitting jumpsuit they were all cursed to wear (though in his case it wasn't such a curse) and past the curl of light brown hair at the neck, until her gaze came to rest at last on the lean, strong jaw and sensuously curved lips of his smile.
As brief as the kiss had been, those lips had made a lasting impression.
She stopped. Why was she studying him when she should be completely focused on the mission ahead of them?
It wasn't just her curiosity about the enigma he represented as a soldier, as much as she would've liked to put it down to no more than that. Nor was it because his cocky self-confidence intrigued her almost as much as it irritated her. It wasn't even because she was forced to admit, as much as she would've liked for it to have been otherwise, that he was really easy on the eyes, or even that he appeared to be completely impervious to every attempt she'd made to freeze him out.
Wryly, she supposed it was a little bit of all of them that, rolled into one, had already become a burr beneath her skin that was impossible to ignore.
Despite her irritation with herself, she continued to study him assessingly, dragging her gaze from his lips at last to his twinkling hazel eyes. Those, she thought, fascinated her most of all. She'd yet to look into them that she didn't see at least a trace of amusement, mischievous or otherwise, which made it more than a little difficult to tell whether his interest in her was purely a matter of entertainment, or because he felt challenged by her seeming imperviousness to his dauntingly magnetic charm. The intelligence she saw in them intrigued her mostly because he'd been at such pains to present himself as borderline Neanderthal that it had come as a surprise, and not a particularly welcome one since he seemed determined to wage a running battle of wits with her.
Almost as if he sensed her gaze, Caleb turned his head in her direction and their gazes locked for a space of heartbeats before she had the presence of mind to look away, but she couldn't control the faint blush that rose in her cheeks and she knew that was a dead giveaway that her interest had been anything but casual.
Not that that seemed to matter a great deal. The knowledge in his eyes made it clear that he knew very well he'd managed to pierce her armor of ice and had every intention of chipping away at it at every opportunity.
* * * *
Having put the crew to bed, so to speak, Breanna made her way to the head. Unlike the regular military transports, the Io just happened to have the added luxury of a steam room and sauna and as soon as the crew had gone to their quarters for the night, she gathered her bathing supplies and headed down the corridor in search of some relief from her tension headache.
Discarding her clothing on the bench outside the steam room, she went in. The benches inside, she saw, were narrow and no more welcoming than the floor. Shrugging, she spread her towel on the floor and sat down. Tucking the knife that was never far from her side beneath her right thigh, she folded her legs and dropped her forearms across her knees, assuming the meditation position.
She'd just reached a peaceful plane when a waft of cool air floated across her, breaking her concentration. Slowly, she opened her eyes and peered through the swirling mists of steam.
Her nemesis was standing in front her, his crotch practically in her face.
He wasn't wearing a towel.
In fact, like her, he wasn't wearing anything at all.
Whether intentionally or by habit, he'd assumed the ‘at ease’ stance as he came to a halt in front of her, feet slightly apart, body stiffly erect. His cock was at attention.
With an effort, she dragged her gaze from his genitals and looked up at him. Expecting to find him leering down at her provocatively, she discovered instead that his expression was completely unreadable. She sensed, however, that he'd been surprised to find her occupying the steam room. “If you want to keep what's between your legs, you'll step away right now,” she murmured, whipping the knife from beneath her thigh in one swift movement and tucking it against the top of his thigh, beneath his balls.
She had to give him credit. He didn't even flinch. There was no amusement in his eyes now, however.
“Would you really take it off?"
She eyed him steadily. “Do you want to test me?"
He hesitated for a split second and then stepped back. “I have a feeling your reputation is well deserved,” he said coolly.
Her lips tightened. “What reputation?” she asked, well aware of what it was since she'd gone out of her way to cultivate it.
“Ice Queen."
She studied him a moment, noting that his cock wasn't quite as jaunty as before, and finally put the knife away since he didn't appear to be ‘armed’ anymore either. “Why don't you drop and give me twenty?"
He didn't move. Something gleamed in his eyes, however, that challenged her in a way a gleam of mischief wouldn't have. She stood up. “That's an order, Sylvaine."
Shrugging, a faint smile curling his lips now, he dropped to the floor and assumed the position. She watched him dispassionately—for about five seconds. The bunching and flexing of every muscle along his back, his arms, his buttocks and legs was enthralling enough in themselves, however, to completely absorb her attention. The fact that his movements elicited images of that long, muscular body heaving over her in the act of sex sent heat screaming through her, flooding her nether mouth with moisture.
He knew it, too.
It sent a wave of anger through her that he always seemed to manage to turn every attempt at discipline into a match of wills, and she generally felt as if he'd come out on top. She placed a foot in the middle of his back, bearing down just enough to make him grunt at the additional strain.
A sense of satisfaction replaced her irritation.
It was the smugness that was her downfall.
He hit twenty and rolled, jerking her leg out from under her. Caught off guard, unable to regain her balance, she did a split, her buttocks slamming down on his upper thighs. The fall stunned her. Apparently, he'd braced himself for it, however. He caught her arms as she landed, twisting and laying her flat on her back on the floor, then rolling on top of her almost in one motion and pinning her arms to the floor on either side of her head.
He'd managed to wedge his hips between her thighs. His cock, fully erect once more, lay against her belly heavily.
Fury surged through her when she looked up at his smug face. “I could have you shot for assaulting an officer,” she gritted out, heaving upward futilely in an effort to buck him off of her.
His face went taut, but not with anger. “It just might be worth it,” he murmured gruffly. Shifting against her so that she was in no doubt he found the current situation highly arousing, he dropped his head forward, seeking her lips. She twisted her head to one side and his lips merely grazed her cheek instead. “Do you always enjoy living up to your reputation?” he growled, contenting himself with gnawing a trail of hot, wet kisses along her jaw and the side of her neck.
The feel of his open mouthed kisses on her neck crushed the air from her lungs. “You can count on a night in solitary for this,” she managed to say with only a faint rasping sound to her voice.
He lifted his head then, allowing a slow grin to dawn. “I thought so."
She stared up at him, expecting him to ro
ll off of her. Instead, he shifted so that his erection was butting against her pubic bone, and thrust his hips, grinding his cock against her mound. The movement teased her clit and she stifled a moan, feeling her facade of authority begin to crumble under the onslaught. Dipping his head once more, he nudged her chin up and painted a path from her chin down to her collar bone with one long stroke of his tongue.
She swallowed with an effort, trying to close her mind to the drugging heat that enveloped her as he worked his way downward from her collarbone across the upper slopes of her breasts. Her nipples stood erect, demanding attention long before he reached them.
She held her breath, waiting for the first stroke of his tongue across those throbbing, achingly sensitive buds.
* * *
Chapter Three
He stopped, breathing as heavily as if he'd just run a race. When he rolled off of her, Breanna was too stunned at first to react. Anger was not slow to follow, however, particularly when she realized that he could be in no doubt that she hadn't merely lain beneath him cold and unresponsive.
Jackknifing upright, she snatched her knife and her towel from the floor and came to her feet. Whirled on him in a battle stance, she discovered that he still lounged on the floor, propped up now on one elbow and watching her with a mixture of satisfaction and unfulfilled heat.
His cock was still fully erect, but she could take little comfort in his obvious sign of unappeased arousal when her body was still humming as if an electric current were flowing through her.
“On your feet!” she ground out between clenched teeth.
He stood, proceeding her from the steam room.
Endless Night Page 3
