Endless Night

by Andrea Dionne

  It gave her a jolt to see that the room was empty. Whose watch was it, she wondered irritably?

  She stood undecided for several moments, fighting a mixture of fear and anger. All seemed quiet, however, and after a moment it occurred to her that whoever was on watch might have merely stepped off for a little privacy to attend to personal matters. She'd give them five and if whoever it was wasn't back on watch, she'd nail his hide to the wall when she found him!

  Moving through the kitchen and into the equally large storage room, Breanna examined the shelves for a possible meal. After a moment, she spotted a can of peas. Digging it out of its corner, she turned to head back to the kitchen and ran into Caleb, almost literally.

  “Is it your watch?” she asked, more than a little unnerved by his sudden appearance, feeling a damnable heated tide of embarrassment rise to her cheeks.

  “Yes ... it is. I just got up because I had an urge, too,” he replied.

  She didn't know if it was the hungry way he was looking at her, or the intimacy of the situation—finding herself alone in the darkened room with him, whispering to keep from disturbing the others, standing far too close for regulation—but the moment he said ‘urge', her mind instantly conjured writhing, tangled bodies, heated skin, warm breaths mingling.

  For weeks, he had teased her endlessly with promises she hadn't dared even to acknowledge—had thought she had completely suppressed. It was disconcerting to have her libido so abruptly and thoroughly aroused by no more than his proximity and a few whispered words when she'd convinced herself that she was completely immune to the man.

  Seeing her frown in confusion, Caleb smiled and gestured to the can in her hand.

  Breanna followed the gesture and felt her face redden. So much for thinking the hunger in his eyes had anything to do with her, she thought wryly.

  Unfortunately, her body didn't seem to get the message. It continued to hum in restless anticipation as if demanding the stimulation she'd been denying it for weeks.

  Or, maybe, it was the smile that went with the gesture ... almost as if he sensed her own cravings went well beyond the need to assuage her stomach's clamoring for food.

  With an effort, she tamped her wayward thoughts. “I didn't eat anything earlier and only just now felt sorry for it,” she whispered coolly, looking past the door into the kitchen.

  He frowned when she didn't acknowledge his smile. “Yeah, I noticed,” Caleb said simply and stepped aside to allow her to pass.

  “Were you watching me again? Is that how you knew?” Breanna asked dryly.

  “Don't flatter yourself, lady,” he retorted coolly. “It's my watch, remember?"

  She felt her color fluctuate. “Was I?” she asked, equally cool. “Because it seemed to me you were pretty interested in giving me a ride on that big cock of yours."

  Something flickered in his eyes. A faintly goading smile curled his lips. Almost insolently, he slipped his hand down to his groin. Until that moment she hadn't noticed he was fully erect—or maybe he could summon it at will? He cupped his cock in his hand, almost as if he were offering it to her. It was an obscene gesture, and at the same time arousing in a purely carnal way. “You noticed, huh?"

  She felt her cheeks color, but she wasn't about to let that slide. “You've been trolling with it ever since I met you. I am trained to observe."

  “That's because I'm always interested in giving a beautiful woman a ride on my cock—the good ones at least twice."

  Breanna's lips tightened. The point being she shouldn't flatter herself that she was in any way special? Oddly enough, as much as that irritated her, and wounded her in an indescribable way, it was also a gauntlet that tempted her to prove to him that she was special. Not that she would, particularly when she suspected that was exactly why he'd said it. “Aren't you supposed to be on watch?"

  He shrugged. “Yes, ma'am."

  On impulse, she stopped him as he turned away. “Wait. I'm sorry. I just get moody when I'm hungry,” she quietly, wondering even as she did it why she'd stopped him. It was a very bad idea to prolong the sense of intimacy that had enfolded them with the quiet of the darkness, and yet she found that she was extremely reluctant to end it.

  “My mother was the same way, especially in the morning. She was a real beast before she'd had her coffee.” He stopped, his face hardening abruptly, as if the words he had just spoken were painful to him.

  “I hope I'm not that bad.” She glanced at him as she moved into the kitchen and set the can of food on the counter, realizing she also didn't want to leave him with the impression that she was open to the idea of having him fuck her brains out only because she was as scared shitless as everybody else and needed a distraction. “I wanted to talk to you about what has been going on around here. The fact is, you're the only one I completely trust."

  His brows rose, but after a moment, he followed her, leaning back against the counter, and watching as she looked around and finally found something to open the can with. “What about Hunter? I still think we need to talk to him—I'd be willing to try to beat something out of him myself after what we heard out of him earlier.” He fell silent, thinking, and finally shrugged. “On the other hand, there is the possibility that he was just scared shitless and babbling. I don't believe losing the Io was any kind of accident. I know it had to have been one of us that released the Io, but I honestly can't see it. Sabotaging the Mayflower and then taking the Io would've made some sense, but ... doing it the other way around?"

  Breanna frowned. “Maybe not at this point, but since that's what happened, we have to consider that whoever did it is still among us and has a rational plan.” She was thoughtful for several moments. “There's something—strange about Hunter. I don't know what it is, but I don't like it. I'm seeing it in some of the others, too."

  “I'm not following you. Strange in what way?” Caleb asked.

  She shook her head. “It's hard to pin down. It just seems that some of the men aren't acting normal. More quiet, almost ... brooding. The thing with Zane got everyone spooked. I'm not going to lie. It unnerved me, too, but these are people who've seen combat. They seem more jittery and less in control than I would've expected.” She shrugged again. “Like I said, it's hard to say, exactly. You know them better than I do ... know how they act when they're under stress ... And yet...."

  “Yet what? What were you going to say?” Caleb prodded.

  “It's just that ... I've been in some pretty hairy situations before and the men I've worked with have never acted this way.” She looked directly at him then, her face hardening with anger. “I've never seen men—experienced soldiers act this way before. They were trained to deal with impossible situations. Trained not to turn chicken shit at the sight of a little blood....” She stopped. A long moment of uncomfortable silence reigned as they stood regarding each other, one in irritation, the other in thoughtful curiosity.

  Breanna finally spoke up. “Aren't you going to say anything? Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me out with this?"

  “I was just thinking about what you said. I thought it was just my own over-active imagination that made me think something was up with the men. I'm glad I'm not the only one that's noticed it. But right now I don't think that's our biggest problem. I think that Hunter or maybe somebody else is hiding something. Possibly why we were really sent here."

  “You know you think Hunter has something to do with this, but why? He couldn't have released our ship—or killed Zane—no way am I going to believe he's strong enough to have done what Osborne described—and he was with us when the main computer was activated."

  “Not by himself anyway. I think he got Osborne and Zane to release the ship. Think about it. They were they ones that discovered it, and now Zane's dead."

  “But he couldn't have known that I'd choose them to radio back to headquarters about our findings."

  “The ship was clean gone when we got there—not a sign of it. It didn't just drift off, not un
less it was released a good while before we discovered it was gone. And he wouldn't need to know who you'd pick. They could've done it earlier when we split up for the search. Maybe I'm wrong and he doesn't know anything, but tomorrow I'm going to find out."

  “What do you think he knows?” Breanna asked.

  “Maybe something about what your father had suspicions of."

  * * *

  Chapter Eight

  Breanna nearly dropped the can. “Like what?"

  “I thought you could help me with that,” he said, pushing away from the counter and taking the can from her hands.

  “I don't think I'd be much help in that department, okay,” she gritted out. She was suddenly angry that he'd brought up her past. She had never liked talking about it ... didn't even like thinking about it ... and had no plans to delve into it. Not for anyone.

  “You'd be a lot more helpful than anyone else,” Caleb said matter-of-factly.

  The comment pierced her agitation. Reluctantly, she acknowledged that he was right—probably even more than he knew. If there was even a remote possibility that she might know something that would help to piece this thing together, she owed to everyone whose life depended upon her to reveal what she knew and it still took an effort to overcome her reluctance to talk about her past. “He went on and on about aliens and experiments. I never really understood how that could've had anything to do with the disappearance."

  Caleb frowned. “Was he ever in any position that might have given him access to that kind of information?"

  Breanna grimaced wryly. “Yes and no."

  Caleb's brows rose. “He was or he wasn't?"

  Breanna looked away. “There were two survivors of the disaster—Quinn and Elise Mallory. That was me and my father. So, you see, he was in a position to have known, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he actually did. My mother died on this ship. He was never the same."

  Caleb caught her arm, pulling her around so that had to look at him. He was confused now. He had thought her father had just been fascinated with Mayflower's disappearance. He hadn't ever suspected that he was one of the survivors. “You changed your name? Why?"

  “My middle name is Breanna. I took my mother's maiden name. You've no idea what it was like growing up as his daughter. Half the people thought he was just plain crazy and the rest ... well they figured he'd either had something to do with it himself or he was just a damned coward, because he'd left my mother—didn't get anyone out except the two of us—in a pod that would've carried at least fifteen or twenty people.

  “I changed my name because I didn't want that following me around for the rest of my life."

  It was almost a relief to confess, and yet it disturbed her when he said nothing, merely studying her in frowning silence—As if she was a freak? A nut case like her father? Or just someone who couldn't really be trusted because the acorn never fell far from the tree?

  She realized she'd wanted absolution, not just to confess. Somehow, she'd thought Caleb, of all the people she'd known, would understand. She didn't know why she'd thought so. Maybe she'd only hoped he would?

  Instead, she began to feel as if she'd opened herself to the same disgust and ridicule that she'd been running from for years—and it was worse, because she realized that Caleb's opinion of her mattered far more than anyone else's.

  It made her angry, particularly when he continued to study her, as if seeing her in a whole new light—which she supposed he must. Abruptly, she pushed away from the counter, intent upon putting as much distance between them as possible. He caught her arm and she moved to pass him, swinging her around.

  Fury rushed through her and she slung a half hearted punch at him. He caught her fist, jerking her toward him so that she lost her balance and slammed full length against him. Before she could trust herself away from him, he caught a fistful of her hair, tilted her head back and cut off her gasp of outrage by covering her mouth with his own. A wave of mind numbing fire swept through her, an insatiable hunger fed by a dozen conflicting emotions and by the need he'd been steadily stoking inside of her for weeks. She ceased trying to break free and struggled to move more tightly against him, sucking his tongue greedily as he thrust it inside her mouth.

  He let out a growling sound that was part satisfaction and part need, releasing his grip on her hair and running shaking hands along her back. When he grasped the cheeks of her ass and pulled her hips tightly against hers, grinding against her, she felt the hard ridge of his erection digging into her belly. She moved her legs apart, tilting her hips up as he repeated the pressure. This time she felt his hard cock press teasingly against her clit. It sent currents of pleasure racing through her. She made a muffled sound of passion as she felt the moisture of her need soaking her panties, felt her belly clench and unclench with fervent anticipation. She sucked his tongue more feverishly and when he withdrew it at last, she thrust her tongue into his mouth, stroking the sensitive flesh of his inner mouth as he had hers.

  Abruptly, he broke the kiss, caught her around the waist and lifted her up. Settling her on the counter behind him, he caught the zipper tab at her throat and pulled it down to her waist, shoving the suit off her shoulders even as he placed open mouthed kisses on the flesh he revealed, sucking a string of stinging love bites. Breanna closed her eyes dizzily, relishing the sensations that washed over her and through her, allowing her mind to focus completely on what he was doing to her.

  He'd trapped her arms as he shoved the suit down them. She struggled briefly and finally braced her palms against the counter top to balance herself as he caught one erect nipple between his lips and plucked at it, swabbed it with the heated roughness of his tongue and then sucked it into his mouth as he caught her other breast in his hand and massaged it, teasing the erect nipple with his fingers.

  When she began to moan incessantly, moving against him, he replaced his massaging hand with his mouth, teasing her other nipple as he had the first. Coolness brushed her legs and then the warmth of his fingers. Dimly, she realized that he'd caught the tab of the zipper once more and had tugged it down her belly and along her the leg of her suit.

  She gasped when his fingers found her pussy, massaged her briefly through her panties and then thrust the thin fabric aside and traced her damp cleft with one finger. He shuddered, a groan caught in his throat. “You're so wet for me, baby,” he murmured against her breast.

  She couldn't find her voice to speak, could only gasp for air as he tweaked her clit with his fingers, rubbing in tight circles that dragged sharp little cries from her throat. She rocked her hips to meet his touch, desperately needing more, wanting to feel his cock inside her.

  As if he sensed the need, sensed she was rapidly approaching her orgasm, he removed his hand. Before she could protest, he fastened his mouth over one nipple again, sucking hard. Mindless bliss washed over her, and then she felt the nudge of the head of his cock along her cleft, felt him seeking her entrance. She shifted eagerly toward him, lifting her hips in offering. He caught her legs, guiding them around his waist. Slipping a hand beneath her hips, he aligned his body with hers and pushed, seating the head of his cock firmly in her passage.

  She groaned, leaning back on her elbows and lifting her hips as he pulled away slightly and pressed forward again, meeting his next thrust and feeling him sink more deeply inside of her as her flesh slowly yielded to his intrusion. As he withdrew slightly one more, she locked her ankles behind his waist. This time when he thrust, she tightened her legs and lifted her hips to meet him, moaning in blissful agony when she felt him sink to her depths, stretching her almost painfully.

  A shudder went through him. Briefly, he hesitated, grinding his teeth. Then, as if his body had moved beyond his control, he caught her hips in his hands, withdrew slightly and drove deeply into her again. Breanna bit her lip on a muffled cry, bracing herself as he set a desperate rhythm, moving in hard, deep, fast strokes that sent ecstasy clawing its way up her spine and held her shivering on the edge of
her precipice. Gritting her teeth, she met each pounding thrust, urging him to move harder, faster, deeper until they were both coated in a fine sheen of sweat, gasping as if they were dying.

  The wave broke over her with the sudden shower like the fire of a photon blast, ecstasy that was close to agony tearing a raw groan from her throat. The quaking of the walls of her sex in culmination clasped him, milked him, so that he too, climaxed explosively on the heels of her own release.

  Shuddering, gasping hoarsely, they clung together as the rush of passion slowly dissipated, as their bodies cooled and the echoes of release drained away.

  Breanna was still floating in the golden haze of her aftermath when Caleb lifted his head and nuzzled her neck. Tingles of pleasure washed through her as he sucked a bite of tender flesh. She tilted her head, allowing him better access, feeling her sex clench around his cock in response.

  “Mmmm,” he murmured lazily, pumping his hips slowly and moving his flaccid cock along her passage, until, in an almost leisurely fashion, blood engorged it and it was rock hard once more.

  The temptation to protest rose to her lips, but the stroke of his cock along her passage produced quivers of delight she was loathe to give up. She caught his hair as he had hers earlier, tipping his face up so that she could memorize the contours of his features with her lips, nipping at him almost playfully with her teeth until he captured her mouth with his and swept her up again in the drug of his essence.

  By the time he broke the kiss, she felt her body winding tightly once more toward release. He leaned back, catching her knees and pushing them upwards until he could watch her pussy engorging his flesh each time he pushed into her, yielding it up reluctantly each time he withdrew. His face great taut, his eyes slumberous but gleaming with passion as he lifted them to her face at last and met her gaze.

  The look on his face made her breath catch in her throat, sent a rush of reflective desire through her, making her muscles clench reflexively around his shaft. He groaned, began moving faster, grinding his pelvis against her each time he sank deeply inside of her and teasing quakes of pleasure from her clit.