by JC Hay
His growl thrummed along her nerves like he was strumming an instrument. “Dockrat, if I strapped you down, we’d need a lot more time to get to the ship.”
“That’s twice you’ve offered me some sort of amazing sexual experience, only to say you didn’t have time to deliver. A lady could get a complex.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” His hands eased under her parka and pushed it off her shoulders. Her skin pebbled in the chill air, but the cold couldn’t get past the heat he generated. She leaned against him, breath shuddering as his fingers curled under her shirt.
His breath was hot on her skin. “If we start this, I’ll stop the moment you say so. But, I’m only gonna stop if you say so.” He kept his hands perfectly still, so close to her skin she could feel the heat of him.
The promise and the threat in his words would have made her knees shake if she weren’t already sprawled on his lap. She swallowed to moisten her dry mouth. “In that case, I’ll save it for when I really mean it.”
His fingers shaped the curve of her back, broad and strong. Lightning arched along her nerves, connecting her pulse to the touch of his hand. Each caress felt like an acceleration, searing the air in her lungs, anticipation pulling her taut until his skin left hers again and she could relax. Around them the launch went silent as the thrusters shut off. Instantly, she felt her body rise as the cabin returned to microgravity.
Barr spun her easily, lifting her and returning to his lap, back pressed to his chest. One arm curled across her middle, an iron bar that kept her from drifting off. Sheri’s gasp of surprise turned into a chuckle. “You’re still buckled in.”
“Damn right,” he growled, close to her ear. “One of us needs to be.”
Or we’ll tumble around the cockpit every time one of us pushes against the other. The image flashed through her head while his hand slid up to stroke the underside of her breast, and she couldn’t hold back the giggle.
“Not the usual response,” he whispered. Fingers pinched her stiffened nipple through the fabric of her bra, and she hissed in a breath at the sudden sharp sensation. His smile pressed against the back of her neck. “Better.”
Sheri had to agree. She dropped her head back as he did it again, and words failed her. Teeth scraped her shoulder, and the electricity in her skin arched her against him. Her brain swirled, and his touch seemed everywhere at once. Combined with the microgravity, she felt like she was flying. No. Falling. And he was the ground, broad and solid and—because he was still buckled in—immovable. The one thing she could anchor to, and his every stroke heightened her lightheadedness.
His hand eased under the elastic of her casual ship-pants, fingers slipping through the damp curls between her thighs. Barr’s growl of pleasure was more sensation than sound, transferred from his chest to her spine and turning her blood molten.
Sheri bit her lip, unable to keep from squirming, from pressing up into his hand. Each gesture threatened to send her floating away, but the steel bands of his arms kept her in place. Secured. She rocked into him, launching herself with the knowledge that he’d catch her, and he did. His fingers found the liquid heat at her core, teasing, tightening her nerves until the snap of release left her bucking against his hand, stars flashing across her vision.
There was no time to breathe, no way to catch herself as he shifted. In the new position the heel of his hand pressed down against the taut nub of her clit, blunt fingers filling her, and she tumbled off the cliff without warning. Unable to form words, she sobbed, gasped, made whatever noises she could while her hands gripped his forearm as though it were a talisman.
Barr kept her nestled in the safety of his arms as she came back down, and she curled into his chest. Despite knowing that microgravity made certain things difficult for men, she wiggled her backside across his hips. “What about your turn?”
He chuckled quietly. “This is my turn. But I’ll make you a deal, when we get back to gravity, you can return the favor if you feel like it.”
“How long until then?” Gravity meant being back on the ship and cloaking herself in the lies she needed to stay alive.
Barr turned them in the chair so he could glance at the chrono on the console. “At current speeds, another two hours. So, unless you say otherwise, there’s plenty of time for round two.”
As though she was capable of saying no to him.
Ten
The autopilot was beeping, asking for attention. Rayan normally would have checked it immediately, but as it wasn’t the “urgent” warning, he took his time. Besides, Sheri was snoring quietly, curled up against him in the most delicious way. Half her clothes had been discarded, drifting in the cockpit on the eddies of their breath, and he’d pulled his parka around her bare back to keep the worst of the chill at bay.
It was a stupid move on his part, and even knowing that he shouldn’t have surrendered to temptation, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. She had been...everything he’d fantasized and more. Responsive, demanding, and chaotic in equal measure. Coaxing pleasure from her body had been its own delicious reward. His nerves shivered at the memory and half tempted him to wake her for a third stretch before docking.
Which brought him back to the present. Carefully as he could, he turned the chair to check the alert from the autopilot. It was asking permission for a mild course correction, and he granted it with a tap. Unfortunately, it was enough of a moment that she woke.
Her face nuzzled into his neck, teeth grazing the skin. “Time to get up?”
“Nah. We’ve got about forty minutes before I need to do anything. You rest.”
She nodded quietly. “I’d give you options for what to do in the meantime, but I’m already going to be sore.”
He grinned, not above the smug satisfaction that crept into his blood with a possessive hum. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“If you break your toys, it’s hard to keep playing with them.” She snuggled in close, before adding, “How long have you had Darcy?”
He paused for a long moment, then decided he didn’t mind telling her. “My family was on Adiona. That’s where I grew up.”
“Mid-system world. I’ve heard of it. Mining and some aquaculture?” Her hand stroked his collarbone absently. “Which were you?”
“Yttrium Miners. Three generations, in the foothills outside of Nouveau Bamako.” It hurt to remember, less over the loss of his family than over everything that came after. “Darcy was my sister’s. I took over caring for him after...”
She picked up immediately, hugging herself against him in a way more comforting than sexual, despite her nudity. “I’m so sorry. Can I ask how?”
“Cancer and lung disease. Not altogether uncommon, unfortunately.” He took another deep breath, glancing over to Darcy before shifting his grip to cuddle Sheri closer. “Goff Fabrications doesn’t exactly have a great track record in regard to workers’ safety.”
“I’ve seen their stuff around, but I had no idea. Do they not supply respirators?”
“They do.” He ground the words out between clenched teeth. “Even change the filters every month, just like they’re required to. Problem is, the filters are only cleared for seven-hour days. Most folks at Goff were putting in ten or more. Plus, overtime on weekends. Pay is in corporate script, which makes it damn hard to spend anywhere else but in the mining stores. Staples are cheap, but pharmaceutical prices are high. Of course, you can put it on your credit, but you can’t quit without paying off your debts, so—”
“So, it’s a perpetual cycle. Predatory lending leads to more hours, which overtaxes the respirators, which increases sickness. More borrowing to cover drugs, and so on.” Her disgust was plain in her voice. “What about a union?”
The memory burned harder than he wanted to admit. Almost a decade later, and Alaric would never be dead enough for the things he’d done. That was Rayan’s burden to carry though, not hers. “We tried. Breakers crushed it before we had a chance to vote it in.” It was
n’t a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth.
“I wish I could have done something to help. I’m sorry.” Her voice was fuzzy with sleep, talking more to his shoulder than to him.
Rayan leaned down to press a kiss against her roughly shaved temple. “Shh. Don’t be silly. Everybody has it hard. You should know, Dockrat.” Besides, he’d already taken care of it. His way.
She purred contentedly. “I should hate you calling me that.”
“I can stop if you want me to.” He hoped she’d say no, had already grown too attached to the idea of having a nickname for her.
Sheri stayed silent for a long while, then said, “Nah. It’s okay from you. No one else though.”
He smiled, his primal heart pleased at having a privilege afforded no one else. “That’s fine by me. I’m happy to keep it that way.”
“Wake me before we get too close?” She kissed his chest as she tucked her head under his chin. The vaguely citrus smell of her dry shampoo drifted in the air around them. “I’d hate to be undressed if the Sentinel pings.”
Rayan chuckled. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Hicks has had a caper or two.”
“How am I supposed to sleep knowing there’s a story like that out there?”
“Nah. It’s hers to share. You want to know; you can ask her.” He leaned to one side long enough to confirm the autopilot was still on its updated course, then settled into his chair. “I promise. I’ll wake you.”
There’d be plenty of explaining to do when they got back to the ship, but Mira was reasonable. If he moved Sheri into his quarters, she wouldn’t say boo about it. He thought back to the conversation they’d had before he’d left, and a wan smile curved his mouth. I guess I was more compromised than I thought.
Eleven
When they returned to the Sentinel, it was all Rayan could do to let Sheri out of his sight. The trip from Hodur had been as exhausting as it had been entertaining, and still he wanted nothing more than to slip away to his quarters and bury himself in her with more than just his fingers. Unfortunately, that would have to come after his report to Mira. She’d made it plain that he needed to head straight to the bridge and fill her in on the events.
He dragged a hand down over his face, as though he could clear some invisible sign of Sheri’s kisses, then back up and over his shaved head. Stepping through the hatch, he found Mira and Zion waiting for him. Hicks sat in the pilot’s chair, ostensibly paying attention to her console, but it was impossible to miss how she leaned back to catch anything that might be said.
Rayan nodded to the captain and first officer, then stared at the back of the pilot’s head. “What, no card?”
“I assumed you’d want to draw your own, after you accused me of being a charlatan.” She set the deck on top the console next to her. “I shuffled it just for you.”
“As though I’d trust you,” he teased. He attempted a clumsy bridge shuffle, and Hicks almost concealed her snort of amusement. After another attempt he set the deck down and flipped over the top card. A masked figure in black robes and an old-fashioned wig stared back at him. In one hand the person carried a sword, in the other a bright red apple.
“The Judge,” said Hicks, though Rayan hadn’t seen her glance over at the card. “Serious decisions, a test of ideals, or, you know. An actual trial.”
“If we’re done with the floor show?” Zion laughed and shook his head. “I’ve got important things I’d rather be avoiding.”
Rayan turned to face them. With the captain’s and first officer’s chairs on a terrace above the helm and security stations, he stood below Mira and Sanderson. The angle enhanced the imperial nature of her glare, and she focused on Zion for a long second. “Finished?”
He smiled. “I could come up with more if you want. It’s not like there’s not plenty to discuss.”
“Not for you. Hicks, initiate the sequence to transit to the Kronus system.” Mira waited for the pilot to acknowledge before lasering her stare into Rayan once more. “Well?”
“Her contact sold her out to the Spider Queen, or Ariadne got there first. Either way, the same result. We had a couple of fights. Ariadne had guards placed on the launch, but we got past them.” Rayan shrugged. “She’s fucking clever, but getting into the Night Market is apparently out of her reach.”
Zion snorted. “I’m sure.”
“You got something you want to say to me, Sanderson? Or maybe you’re interested in going a couple rounds in the ring?”
“She’s playing you for stupid. She’s fucking IntCom.”
Fury flared in Rayan’s chest, and he took a step up onto the dais toward Zion before his brain resumed control. “You’d better have damn good evidence.” TJF’s Intelligence Command was responsible for too many sins in their lives, starting with the infiltration of the union efforts of the miners on his homeworld. Peddling cheap Spectrivax until half the workers had been addicted, himself included. Sheri was a dockrat, nothing more.
“Ariadne called while you were planetside.” Zion sat back with his fingers steepled in front of him. “She told us all about Sheri’s real history.”
“The Spider Queen.” He spoke slowly because apparently everyone got real dumb while he was away. “Called our ship. And the words of this accomplished liar sowed discord regarding the person who’d robbed her.” Rayan shook his head. “Maybe we should go into the ring, just so I can knock some of the shit out of your ears. I said you’d better have good evidence.”
“Enough, both of you.” Mira shifted to rest her elbow on the arm of her chair. “I’m not going to say Ariadne’s story wasn’t compelling, but you’re right. She’s got motive.”
Rayan exhaled. “Thank you.”
“That doesn’t mean Sheri’s not guilty,” Mira snapped. “There’s a lot of her story that doesn’t make sense. And I hate mysteries.”
So did Rayan, and he hated that even the suggestion from Zion had him second-guessing every one of his interactions with Sheri. “Darcy likes her. He’s never wrong about people. Even Sanderson.”
Zion flipped him off with a smirk. “No offense, mate, but Darcy’s a fuckin’ lizard.”
“He’s been on the crew longer than you, and I trust him more.”
“I said enough!” Mira slammed her hand down on the arm of her chair, the sound overly loud in the bridge. “You two can bicker on your own time, not on mine. Barr, she’s got two strikes already. I don’t care if she’s IntCom or not, if she screws us over again, I’ll send her and the ’Vax back to Ariadne just to avoid having to deal with her.”
He swallowed. “And if I think you’re making a mistake?”
“Then you need to remember your own words. This ship isn’t a democracy.” Mira shook her head gently, and for a split second her features softened into something like sympathy. “She has one more chance. We either need to ditch the ’Vax or get some leverage we can use to hold off Ariadne. As it stands, I don’t like being on the Spider Queen’s bad side.”
Rayan nodded. “I’ll make sure she knows she’s in a deteriorating orbit.”
“The smart thing,” Zion said, “would be to ditch her once we get to the Kronus system. We keep the ’Vax, and we don’t have to care about if she’s a spy or not.”
Rayan scoffed. “The day I come to you for a smart choice would be a dark damn day.”
Sanderson’s broad smile matched his opened arms. “I love you too.”
Rayan turned back to the captain, rolling his eyes. “What if we ditch Sanderson too? It would mean more room for everyone since his ego wouldn’t be cluttering up the ship.”
“Tempting, but he’s good scenery.” Mira shrugged, her seriousness evaporating as she moved back to being Rayan’s friend rather than his captain.
“Plus, he actually listens to the cards when they warn him about something. Unlike someone I could name.” Hicks’s smile tinged her voice from the front of the bridge. “Just saying.”
Rayan counted to ten before talking. Now that the conve
rsation had turned, he hated to bring it back up. “I appreciate the warning about her. I’ll keep my eyes open.”
Mira nodded. “That’s all I ask.”
It was as close to a dismissal as he’d likely get. She’d abandoned her old military habits once they’d both left the mercenary unit that had been their home before the Sentinel. And the ship was home, more than the mines on Adiona had ever been. If it protected his family, he’d cut Sheri loose without a second thought. Even if it left him bleeding to death as a result.
DARCY WAS HEAVY FOR a lizard, his weight curled around Sheri’s shoulders like a warm, scaly scarf. The creature had changed a lot of her misconceptions about goanna, not least of which was how soft their skin could be. The scales didn’t overlap, but nested next to each other. The resulting pebbled texture felt more like skin than the sandpaper she expected.
She uncurled Darcy and set him gingerly on her bunk before pulling off her coveralls. Her sweat-soaked clothing joined them in the pile on the floor, and she let out a ragged sigh. The downside of microgravity, one the holovids too often forgot, was that sweat relied on gravity to drip down your skin. In micro, it just pooled up where you sweat it out. Absorbent clothes helped, but typically it was the height of unsexiness.
Well, had been. Barr had gone a long way toward changing her mind.
A ripple of pleasure shimmered through her, heightened by the anticipation of being able to return his all-too-attentive affections. Shit. Did the captain have any rules about fraternization? Was that even a thing she needed to be worried about? She glanced at Darcy, who was happily burrowing into her discarded clothing. “You got any advice?”
His red and black head poked up, eyes blinking in alternating pairs as he watched her. When she didn’t say anything more, he offered a confused chirrup as though seeking clarification.
