by Megan Alban
Her gaze dropped to the hem of his shirt and she lifted her hands to take hold of it. Her fingers felt chilly against his too warm skin, and he sucked in a faint breath. “Sorry,” she murmured, not raising her eyes to his face. “My hands are always cold.”
“No, it’s...you don’t have to apologize.” He hadn’t been expecting the shock of cold, but it sent a shock from his aching ribs to his groin, his balls drawing up tight at the sensation. His own face began to flush.
“Sorry anyway,” she said, blue eyes flicking up momentarily to meet his, something like a smile beginning at the corners of her perpetually downturned lips. She tugged his shirt up, surprisingly gentle in her movements. The cloth pulled slowly up his back, and she lifted herself up on her toes to pull it over his head, grimacing when he winced a bit, his shoulder caught in the arm.
“Sorry,” she muttered again, and her cool fingers soothed gently over his bruised shoulder before continuing their excruciatingly slow path to remove his shirt. When the arms reached his hands, she paused again, fingers this time sliding over the marks the ropes had left on his wrists. Even as she tossed his shirt aside, her focus stayed on his wrists. In one darting motion, she lowered her head and pressed an ephemeral kiss on the indentation of the knot on the inside of his wrist.
She pulled back quickly, almost jumping away from him, and his breath caught at the sudden rush of blood that accompanied the touch of her lips. “Sorry,” she said once more. “I didn’t mean…. Are you good now? You can manage the rest on your own?”
He wasn’t entirely sure he could, but he was pretty sure that he didn’t want her seeing the state she’d gotten him into, so he nodded, his voice cracking slightly as he answered, “Yeah. I think I got it. Thank you kindly.”
…
As she worked on Sergi she could hear him bathing. Water trickling over dust caked skin. Mud softening, turning dark, and then rolling down his body in a stream. She wondered what he would look like without such a coating of dust and blood and sweat on him. She couldn’t stop thinking about the marks on his body. The rope burn that she had inflicted only one of them. She felt a spike of shame to think of it. Everything she’d seen of him since showed that he was not the sort of man who deserved to be mistrusted like that. Life on this end of the galaxy was hard, her father had taught her that, but before that lesson, her mother had instilled another one: we make our choices not out of necessity but out of conscience. And Paige had not been following her conscience. She’d let fear rob her of herself.
More than that though, there was an ache in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t really identify. Something in her that made her reach down to his wrists and kiss his wounds. Something that woke up within her when she first touched her cold hands to his hot skin. Her breath caught again at the thought of his heat, fingers tingling where they worked the delicate gears inside Sergi. It had been too long since she’d had friendly contact with anyone but her father. They had a few friends in Paloma, but they saw them maybe twice a year. She was lonely, that was all. Of course she craved the touch of another human.
The sound of soft splashing from behind the screen stopped, and Paige, lifted her head, suddenly brought back to the room and the very real fact of a naked man in this tiny space with her. She heard the creak of the tub as he began to lift himself out, and then there was a loud curse, a crashing noise, and a very big splash.
“Fuck,” she muttered, pulling herself to her feet and moving without thought to see the damage. She had been thinking only of the flood caused by the tub and what would happen if it slid into the wrong crevasse in the tent, but when she reached the screen and saw Arron’s face twisted in pain, her focus shifted.
“I might could use your help again,” he said, strain in his voice speaking to how much it hurt.
“Yes, yes, fine,” Paige said, pushing aside her embarrassment as she moved to help him gingerly from the tub.
There had been something about having a layer of dirt and blood between them that made peeling his shirt off so slowly at least manageable for her. This was a very different experience. As he rose from the tub, water slid over his skin, revealing a body toned through use rather than artificial exercise. He was lean and muscled in a practical way, and her hands wandered over defined chest and abdomen, one resting at the small of his back as she supported him. She refused to let herself look lower than that, but she could feel the tempting swell of his ass just beneath her fingertips while he leaned heavily on her shoulder to step out of the tub.
Once he was out, she moved instinctively to grab the towel that sat neatly folded on the stool by the tub. Luckily, he hadn’t knocked it over when he fell, and she shook it out before drying him, starting with his shoulders.
“You don’t have to,” he protested, and her voice was soft when she answered, “I don’t want you falling again.”
He seemed to accept that as an excuse, and he settled under her touch as she rubbed the cloth over him, carefully drying shoulders and arms and chest, moving behind him to dry his back as well.
“You really don’t have to,” he reiterated, and something in his voice made her hesitate.
“I can stop if you want me to,” she answered cautiously, listening to the tone of his answer more than his words.
“I didn’t say that.” It was husky, thick with something unfamiliar, the words rumbling out of his throat like gravel.
Swallowing, she nodded, knowing he couldn’t see her, and knelt to dry his legs, working just as slowly as she had over the rest of his body, water from the tub seeping into her own pants. When she reached his heels, she cleared her throat and rasped out, “Turn around?”
He turned so, so slowly, and she didn’t dare look up as he did, focusing instead on rubbing the towel up his legs, careful around his bruised knee, then up along his thighs. His breath caught, and she heard it clearly in the quiet of the desert night. She finally looked up.
His hair--a sandy-ish sort of blond, it turned out--fell in his face, but even so she could see the darkening of his green eyes. His lips were parted and he brought a hand to her face, fingertips just brushing over her cheek.
“You can stop if you want,” he said, echoing her previous offer.
“I didn’t say that,” she answered, and he groaned softly, reaching for her to pull her up by her shoulders. The movement made him gasp in pain, and that was enough to bring her back to the present.
“I’m sorry,” she said, stepping back once she was on her feet. “I shouldn’t...you need to rest.” She turned away from him, looking around for another towel to clean the water from the floor.
“Paige.” She felt his hand on her elbow but pulled casually away. There wasn’t time for this. She shouldn’t be considering these things. She had a claim to protect and he would be gone in the morning. Life on this end of the galaxy was hard, true, and she knew of many a woman who took her pleasure where and when she could find it, but the thought of baring herself before another person like that only to have them walk away in the morning left her cold and heavy. She shook her head.
“You should get dressed,” she said. “Wouldn’t want you to catch cold.”
She heard him moving behind her, shuffling gingerly to the stool to find the clothes. She finished cleaning up the puddle before daring to look at him. He still stood naked, flannel pants in hand.
“I...might need some assistance again,” he said, and she knew this time that she was blushing straight to the roots of her hair.
“Right, of course,” she said, because she could hardly refuse.
As she moved toward him, he gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she said, resolutely keeping her eyes focused on the floor as she squatted in front of him this time, taking the pants and holding them open for him. “Step,” she said, tapping the back of his leg. He followed her direction and stepped in, one foot at a time, leaning on her shoulder for support. As she rose, she tried to keep her hands away from his ski
n, but she couldn’t ignore the firm muscles of his thighs under her touch. Her eyes skipped straight over his groin as she settled the pants around his waist, moving instead to his face.
That was a mistake.
His eyes were still darkened, and the way he looked at her sent a heat to her belly that quickly spread out from there to the rest of her body. Her thighs tightened in response to the pulsing between them, and she heard a soft groan in the tent, unsure if it was hers or Arron’s. His hands moved from her shoulders down her arms, and it was almost impossible to turn away from that touch to pick up the shirt but she managed it.
“Come on,” she said, trying to find something innocuous to look at and settling on the crook of his elbow. “It gets awful cold here at night.”
He sighed softly, moving as she directed him to get the shirt on, though she could feel his heated gaze on her all the while.
“Yeah, I meant to ask about that,” he said eventually, his voice much more in control than it had been before, though not by much. “How’d you end up with men’s nightclothes here? You make a habit of rescuing strangers?”
She shook her head and settled his shirt down his chest before stepping back. “They’re my partner’s.”
“Ah,” he said, and then it was Arron who took a step back. “I didn’t know.”
“It’s an awfully big claim to hold on my own,” she pointed out, moving back to Sergi, mechanically packing away the parts to work on tomorrow night.
“I guess so,” Arron answered, sounding distant now. She looked up to watch him and saw that his eyes were no longer on her. “So where’s your partner now?”
Paige shrugged, trying to sound as unaffected as he did by their near-miss. “He’s headed for Paloma to file the claim before MagnorCo can get their hands on it.”
“Reckon he’ll be back in a couple days, then?”
“I’m hoping,” she admitted, stowing Sergi and his parts in their bin by the bunk and shepherding the other bots into their sleeping places. “Depends how fast he can get the official to see him. Bureaucracy mucks things up even out as far as this. The Emperor’s long fingers reach into everyone’s business, even out here in the mines.”
…
The next morning Arron stared at the dome of the tent and listened as the birds sang their desert dawn song outside their camp. He could hear Paige’s even breathing above him. A few times in his sleepless night he almost convinced himself that she was awake too, thinking about their bodies touching, feeling that heat spread through her body that still burned in his. He all but convinced himself to climb the ladder up to her bunk and kiss her full and long, to hold her and let his hands explore what was under her clothes, as she had so slowly removed his earlier. He couldn’t help thinking she had one over on him. But then he remembered her elusive partner.
Partner or no, Arron felt like he couldn’t just leave Paige alone to guard what seemed like quite a large claim, all on her own. If MagnorCo held up to its reputation, one person would never be able to keep them out. He was determined to stay until Paige’s partner came back, it was the least he could do for all of her kindness--the shelter, bath, offer of safe passage to the edge of her claim.
He heard her stirring above him and he thought about what it might feel to roll over and find her next to him in the cold morning, to reach out and run his hands down her bare back, sure and smooth, the rhythm of her vertebrae setting the pace for his heart beats. He thought about taking her beneath him and greeting the morning birds with a song of their own.
As he saw her foot on the ladder of the bunk he shook these thoughts out of his head. She’s got a partner, Arron. Snap out of it. Breathe, boy.
He shifted a little as she climbed down, dropping lightly to the ground on bare feet. He waited until she was steady on her feet to say, “Mornin’,” pushing himself up on still-tender arms. She jumped a little and then laughed, the sound light and pleasant, unexpected.
“You startled me,” she admitted, stepping away from the bunks and padding her way to the small kitchen area. “Morning. Sleep okay?
He wanted to say no, that he hadn’t slept at all, that he kept thinking about her and the surprising coolness of her fingers and the way her shirt clung to her curves in that tantalizing way and what might be under it. Instead, he cleared his throat as he slowly swung his legs around to set his feet on the ground. “Yeah, just fine. Thanks. You?”
She hesitated before answering, and he couldn’t help hoping it was for the same reason he had. “Yeah, fine,” she said. “I’m just going to make a little caf-drip and heat up some oats before we go.”
Go. That’s right. He was leaving this morning, set off on his own at the edge of her claim. He shouldn’t be thinking about staying, but he wanted to. He had another couple days before his buyer would disappear. Hell, the goods were probably half covered in tortoise blood by now. Likely he couldn’t sell them anyway. He’d have to find another way to cover the repairs on Aphrodite. Might as well stay, then, help her out till her damned partner arrived. He wondered how desperate they were that she was left all on her own to hold off MagnorCo, an impossible task.
“Sure, take your time,” he said, not at all in a rush to get on the road. Maybe if they delayed long enough, her partner would be back and he could leave with a clear conscience.
“Won’t take but a minute,” she assured him, and then she was tinkering around the kitchen, and he was left to contemplate getting dressed on his own again.
…
Paige had managed to get a decent breakfast down Arron and provided him with more of her father’s clothes to wear this morning. He’d managed the pants on his own and only needed her help with the shirt. She’d still blushed furiously, but she’d managed to keep her hands professionally detached during the process.
She knew she needed to get him off the claim as soon as possible so she’d be able to resume her hunt for MagnorCo, maybe set a few more traps as she went. Still, she measured her pace to allow him to keep up with her on his knee--rebandaged this morning as well as she was able.
It was only just before noon when they reached the end of the claim. “This is as far as I go,” she said, wishing she could go a bit further but knowing they’d lose their claim if she didn’t stay on it until it was properly filed. “You can probably hit Paloma by sundown if you make good time. Just follow the trail west from here. It’s just about straight down into town. If you hit the river, keep it on your right and you’ll get straight there.” She’d already loaded his pack with supplies: food and water to last the day, and a blanket roll for camping out somewhere safe tonight if he needed it.
“If you know you won’t make it before dark, climb a tree to sleep,” she suggested. “The reuzespins won’t bother you up there. Just make sure you’re high enough.”
“That’s not the most reassuring of advice,” he said, and she knew he was right but had nothing more to offer.
She turned her attention to her bots a moment and then began, “Well, I should…”
“Let me stay,” he interrupted, shifting his pack on his good shoulder. “You said your partner’ll be back in a couple days. I can stay that long, help you keep a watch out for MagnorCo.”
“I can’t let you do that,” Paige argued, though the offer was so, so tempting.
“You can’t do it on your own, honey,” Arron said, and for the first time the endearment didn’t strike her as condescending. “There’s too much land. It just isn’t possible.”
“I can manage,” she insisted. “Anyway, my partner wouldn’t like it if you stayed.” Her dad was always insistent that they solved their own problems. He wouldn’t like her asking for help when he’d left the task to her.
“He wouldn’t… I don’t mean you any harm,” Arron said, a pleading tone in his voice as he reached out to touch her shoulder but pulled back before reaching it. “You know that. I only want to help.”
“I know,” she said, and she really did. She wasn’t sure what it w
as about him that made her trust him after only a day, but it was undeniable. “I just can’t let you. You go on to Paloma. Keep yourself safe and don’t worry about me.”
His face twisted in consternation, and he looked like he was going to protest, but then he simply nodded and hiked his pack up again. “All right. Maybe I’ll stop by on my way back to my ship to check in on you.”
Paige smiled, the offer warming her chest. “I’d like that,” she answered sincerely.
“Well,” Arron said softly. “I guess that’s goodbye.”
“I...guess it is,” she answered, not thinking too hard about why that made an ache settle where the warmth had just been. “Take care.”
“You too, honey,” he said. And then he was tromping down the trail.
Paige watched him until he was out of sight and then gave a soft sigh and glanced at her bots. “What are you looking at?” she asked Sergio. “We’ve got work to do.”
…
At first Arron stuck to the trail like Paige suggested. It wasn’t too rough of a hike, at least not so far. As he trod along, he found himself humming Waltzing Matilda again. He smiled and shook his head at the not-too-distant memory of walking, tied up, behind Paige, and singing with her along the trail. It had felt...easy. It was so natural to just be around her. And it hadn’t taken long for it to become more than that. It had become what he wanted. He wanted her, so badly. He continued letting his thoughts linger on Paige. If he had a day and a half to walk, he might as well think about something pleasant. Her brunette pixie curl was a perfect complement to her angled face, her cat-like mouth, those tempest-blue eyes. God those eyes. There was so much behind them. And her lips so perfect in their fullness, so soft when they touched his wrists, so electrifying. They sent sparks teeming to all the right places in his body. One small kiss on his wrists and she had captured him, much more fully than when she bound his hands. Who was this girl to have him thinking about moving back up the trail? Going back to her claim and not taking no for an answer this time, partner be damned.
