Ariston_Star Guardians

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  She continued to be difficult to read. Maybe this was all academic to her and didn’t matter one way or another. So long as she didn’t start thinking that she needed to get rid of him so nobody would be left to tattle on her people and this shifty corporation of hers.

  “You’ve known many?” Ariston wondered if she’d done anything to attract the notice of the Star Guardians before.

  “My sister is dating a pilot, and I’ve met a bunch of his buddies.”

  “Who’s the pilot?” He couldn’t imagine why she would lie about such a thing, but if she knew other Star Guardians, it seemed like she would have a better grasp of the laws of the galaxy, and would have known she shouldn’t have gotten involved in this mission. Or maybe she had known and simply hadn’t cared.

  “Zakota.”

  “One of Sagitta’s men?” Ariston didn’t interact much with the Star Guardians who were out on ships, but he knew of the legendary space fleet captain turned Star Guardian captain, and he’d seen the man at Headquarters now and then. Some of his senior officers were also well known.

  “Yeah. And his buddies are Ku and Hierax. I’ve met them a couple of times.” Mick lifted her eyebrows. “Since you’re an engineer, maybe you know Hierax?”

  Ariston nodded. “He’s a smart man.”

  “And he knows it.”

  He smiled, convinced she truly knew the men now. That made him feel better, and he even felt a sense of camaraderie toward her. But perhaps that would only make things more difficult. No matter who she knew, she was here now, and that made his position—his relationship with her—difficult. And… inadvisable.

  Though she hadn’t done anything to impede him yet, and if she was telling the truth about her scientists and the corporation—and her simple role as a glorified shuttle pilot—maybe a judge wouldn’t have too much of a reason to punish her. Maybe she would only be charged a fine. Maybe not even that if she helped him finish his mission.

  “You can have a couple of my detainment cells if you get those guys,” Mick said, as if she’d been reading his thoughts.

  Ariston looked up, his eyes locking with hers. If she helped him voluntarily, perhaps… perhaps this could all work out.

  “Providing you let my scientists look at one of those skulls you said they snagged,” she added, then lifted a hand, though he hadn’t objected. “Not to keep. Just to examine for clues. My people were hoping to colonize this world. They need to know if there’s something dangerous here, something that would make coming—or lingering—a bad idea.”

  “You can’t colonize a protected world,” he said.

  She shrugged. “Maybe Umbra intended to negotiate with the Confederation about that. Either way, what does it hurt to find out if it’s even feasible?”

  “Why did you come?”

  “I just told you. They—”

  “Not they. You.” Even though he’d proven awful at reading her lies—her bluffs—he kept holding her gaze, as if he could telepathically extract the answers he sought from her mind.

  She shrugged again. “Didn’t I tell you this? I had a ship, they approached me, and they offered a big chunk of money if I was willing to be the ferry service.” She hesitated. “I didn’t think we were doing anything illegal, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Unfortunately, I can’t let people go because they’re ignorant of the law. But if everything you’ve told me is true, the courts should be lenient with you.”

  Her lips quirked. It might have been irritation or amusement.

  “Are you saying, you still consider me your prisoner?” she asked.

  This time, he hesitated. “We’re all prisoners of this planet right now. We need to remedy that before worrying about the rest.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and he thought she might object, but she waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll agree with that. But before anything gets remedied…” Her hand shifted, and she extended it toward the open deck beside her chair. “You lost a bet.”

  “So I did.” He was a little surprised that she still wanted to see him doing shirtless push-ups now that she knew what he was—and that he felt compelled to report her. He’d as much as told her that he still considered her a prisoner, someone he had to take to stand in court if he could.

  He pulled off his shirt, not worrying about the tattoo. The rest of the crew was working quietly elsewhere or sleeping.

  She looked at his chest, nothing shy about her gaze, and an electrical charge coursed through him as he realized something. Whatever differences they had, she was attracted to him.

  He walked around the table, his cock hardening as her gaze followed him. She licked her lips. He knew he had to be careful, that she was someone who could fake an interest in him without him seeing through the deception—she’d just proven her ability to bluff—and that she might try to use him to get free of the mess she was finding herself in. But for the moment, all he could think about was that molten gaze fastened to him.

  He knelt on the textured deck, choosing a spot close enough to her that she could touch him if she wanted.

  “A hundred, was it?” he asked, though he would probably go until he collapsed if she wanted to see it.

  “A hundred.” Mick smiled. “Don’t rush the show.”

  “I never rush when I’m with a woman.”

  Her smile shifted to a smirk. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  He thought about offering to demonstrate but decided to let the push-ups speak for themselves.

  14

  Mick watched as Ariston dropped into a plank position and started his push-ups.

  He performed them slowly and with perfect form. She’d expected no less from him. He was a hard worker, and he seemed honorable. She was ninety-nine percent sure he was exactly who that tattoo on his arm said he was.

  In a way, she was relieved, because it meant she didn’t need to continue worrying that he was secretly still working with the salvage ship crew and this was part of a ruse. But he’d also pointed out a problem, one that she had gotten herself into simply because she hadn’t thought to do some digging. When she had seen the potential to pay off her ship in one mission, she’d jumped on it. Looking back, she should have known better. But what did she do now?

  If Ariston was the honorable man she believed him to be, his honor would demand that he report her for illegally landing a ship on this planet. Maybe physically turn her in himself. She well remembered his opening comment that she was his prisoner.

  He had hinted that she might win some lenience from the law if she helped him. That seemed a possibility, especially since everything he’d asked for so far was in line with what she wanted—getting her ship fixed and off the planet. If he wanted to throw some idiots in her detainment cells, that was no skin off her nose. Dropping him off at Talon Station in the Kjantal System wasn’t a problem, either. She’d planned to head that way after dropping off her scientists, rather than straight back to Earth. Of course, if she couldn’t drop off her scientists for their months of research, that might add a complication.

  As she mulled things over, Mick watched the play of Ariston’s defined muscles as he lowered and rose. He was scant inches from her knee, but she told herself she shouldn’t make any advances toward him. He would probably think she was trying to play him, to make him develop feelings for her so he wouldn’t turn her in or report her to the law. She didn’t want him to think she was manipulative or would do that.

  A few minutes ago, she had been on the verge of releasing him from his wager, but then she’d thought about the way the corded muscles of his forearm had felt when she pushed up his sleeve. Her entire body had flushed with tingling heat at the thought of seeing more of him. Touching more of him.

  Something she could easily do right now.

  If not for her own weird predicament, surely a Star Guardian would be a perfectly legitimate person to date—or grope—while he did push-ups. From what she’d heard, women all over the galaxy flung themselves at the feet of the heroic law
enforcers. She was surprised he’d stayed single for as long as he had after his wife passed.

  “Are you counting?” Ariston asked.

  He hadn’t slowed down, and didn’t now, but he glanced at her, an eyebrow raised. She figured he’d done seventy or eighty by now.

  “No,” Mick said. “I assumed someone who could count cards could count push-ups.”

  “You could tell I was doing that?” He sounded surprised.

  “Yeah. I could practically see the calculator buttons in your eyes as you tried to decide if I had cards that could beat yours.”

  “Huh, I was doing a shitty job of it. I’m surprised you could tell.”

  “Do you usually do better?”

  “Yes, when I’m not talking to a beautiful and intriguing woman.”

  Her cheeks warmed at the comment, more the idea that she was intriguing than beautiful. She’d had enough compliments on her looks in her life to know she wasn’t a lumpy sack of potatoes, but she couldn’t remember many guys suggesting she was intriguing. Or even particularly bright. She had finished high school, but that was it. Unlike her sister, who had been driven to get a degree while serving in the Navy so she could go on to become a pilot, Mick had hated sitting still in a classroom. She’d always wanted to be outside doing physical things.

  “I guess I can’t take you to Vegas then,” she said. “The casinos pay beautiful women to lean their breasts against your shoulder while plying you with free drinks.”

  “I’m not sure what Vegas is, but I’ll agree it’s a good thing I get a regular paycheck from my employer and don’t have to rely on my card skills.”

  She patted him on the back of his shoulder. “Thanks for the show. You can stop.”

  “Very generous of you. Particularly since I’m at ninety-seven.” He paused, turning his head to give her that eyebrow quirk again.

  “I wouldn’t want you to cramp up before we have to fight bad guys.”

  He did three more push-ups, lifted his chin, and leaned farther forward over his wrists. With careful control, he lifted one leg into the air, then raised the second one, perfectly balanced as he moved into a handstand.

  Mick didn’t expect more than that—she was already impressed he’d gone up into that without kicking off the deck. Then he lowered himself, chin almost touching the deck as he did handstand push-ups.

  She thought about saying something flippant about extra credit, but she was too busy admiring the display. The push-ups had been nice. These were even better, giving her a clear view of his powerful shoulders and back as he raised and lowered himself. Those meaty thighs weren’t doing anything at the moment, but they were nice too. All of him was.

  She stood up, careful not to bump him, and leaned her butt against the table. The new position gave her more of the side view than the back view, and she could see his taut abs and pecs. One wouldn’t want to miss any parts of the show. She blushed a little, realizing his package wasn’t far from eye level when he was at the top of his handstands. He filled out those black briefs most excellently.

  She told herself to look away, that a penis was just a penis, and if she should be drooling over anything, it was his musculature, but she couldn’t help noticing he was partially aroused, his cock thrusting at the black material.

  He paused at full extension after doing more handstand push-ups than she could count, where he seemed to be debating whether to stop or segue into something else.

  “Need a spotter?” Mick asked, stepping closer to face his chest while she rested her hands on the sides of his abs.

  Her hands didn’t rest for long. She couldn’t resist the urge to run them up to his hips, then to the outsides of his thighs, tracing those thick muscles. Amazingly, he wasn’t sweaty. Was this just a light warmup for him? She’d heard the Star Guardians had rigid training regimens and kept themselves fit.

  “Spotters do make exercise safer,” he said, still studying the deck—he didn’t have much choice, as he would lose his balance if he tucked his chin to look toward her. Even if he did that, all he would see was her legs.

  She could openly gawk at him without him knowing she was doing so, though he could probably guess that she was. Her hands trailed down the backs of his thighs to his ass, and she held him for a moment. His penis might have been at half-mast before, but now it tried to burst from its prison, like a rocket on a launchpad.

  An image flashed through her mind, of her peeling his underwear down—up—to free him, then nuzzling him. Maybe licking him. Tasting that hot, thick cock. She’d never sucked on someone holding a handstand in front of her, and she wondered if he could hold the position while he came.

  He twisted away from her and dropped his feet to the deck.

  She tried to tamp down her disappointment, telling herself it was foolish to feel it. They hadn’t even kissed, and she was thinking of sucking his cock?

  As he rose to his feet, she struggled to smooth her face and smile, though she was certain the blush heating her cheeks would give away all her naughty thoughts. This wasn’t Kapti, not anymore.

  His face was red from the blood that had rushed to his head, and his shoulders, too, seemed huge and powerful, flushed with blood. Heat.

  Mick opened her mouth, thinking to compliment him, but he surprised her by stepping forward. His arms wrapped around her as he shifted her back, pressing her against the edge of the table. Then he pressed himself against her.

  She was pinned, trapped. Before she could decide if she wanted to object, he kissed her.

  Hard, hungry, and demanding, his lips parted hers and his tongue delved inside. At first, she was startled and didn’t respond, but her body caught on before her mind did. Hot pleasure surged through her, plunging toward her groin, and she wrapped her arms around his powerful shoulders as she returned his kiss.

  His cock, full and erect, jabbed into her stomach. She pulled herself up by his shoulders, wanting it to jab into something lower.

  He groaned, his hands roaming her body urgently as he kept her pinned to the table, smothered by his hard form. She sucked on his tongue, then dipped hers into his mouth, tasting him, inhaling his rich masculinity. She pushed her hands up into his short, soft hair, nails digging into his scalp as she enjoyed the sensation of his locks brushing her skin.

  Almost overwhelmed by him, Mick completely forgot that they were in the middle of the dining area, that someone could walk through at any time. She forgot she had a private cabin with a bed. All she knew was that her body was throbbing, moisture gathering between her legs in anticipation of him thrusting into her. And she wanted that, wanted it now.

  He lifted her slightly, setting her on the table, grabbing her ass, and nudging her legs apart with his own. His cock jammed against her again, this time against her hot core, and she gasped. Even with clothing on, she felt him, hard and ready for her.

  She wrapped her legs around him, squeezing him to her. She wanted to remove her clothes, but she was too busy running her hands all over his amazing body and enjoying the way his passionate kisses left her breathless.

  His hands came to her top, unbuttoning it and cupping her breasts through her bra. Her nipples hardened for him, reveling in his sweet strokes. His hands were gentler than his mouth. His mouth couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

  As much as Mick wanted him to take her right there, not worrying about the future or any possible consequences, a sobering thought trickled into the back of her mind. What if he was thinking about his wife? He hadn’t been looking at her in his handstand, as she stroked his hard body. What if he’d been imagining his wife touching him? Staring at his erect cock? What if that was what had turned him on?

  And if it was, did she care? She hadn’t been this turned on for ages. Couldn’t she screw him without it meaning anything? Without caring if it didn’t mean anything to him?

  His fingers found her fly, deftly unbuttoning it and tugging down her zipper. Her thoughts scattered like confetti as he slipped his fingers between her legs
. Breathless, she threw her head back, gripped his shoulders, and pushed herself into him, her tits tight, her pussy throbbing. He delved into her, and—

  Obnoxious beeps came from the cockpit, shattering the haze of her mindless desire. Reminding her of where they were—and that the door to the cockpit was open. If Safin was awake, he could have heard them grunting and gasping and groaning.

  Ariston drew back, withdrawing his fingers from her underwear, withdrawing his body heat from hers. His face was still flushed, his eyes burning with intensity, with desire, but he blinked a few times and took a steadying breath. He stepped back, lowering his hands. He looked away but not before she saw a flash of something in his eyes. Regret. No, more than that. He felt he’d almost made a mistake.

  Mick swallowed her disappointment, wishing for the first time that she wasn’t good at reading people. She was certain he had been thinking of his dead wife and he’d just realized he’d almost screwed some strange woman instead of her.

  “Uh, Captain?” came Safin’s voice from the cockpit.

  It had an odd note to it, and Mick winced, certain he had been awake, or had woken at some point, soon enough to hear what had been going on back here.

  “What is it?” Mick called, struggling to make her own voice normal as she slid off the table.

  Even though she knew she needed to chill, to still her horny nerves, her body wasn’t a light switch that could be turned off and on. She wanted to run back to her cabin and sate herself, even if she had to use her hand in the dark. No, she admitted, eyeing the bare-chested Ariston and his cock, large and hard against the fabric of his underwear. She wanted to jump him and sate herself on him, even if he had been thinking of someone else. Even if he was looking toward the corner, his fingers clenched into fists as he tried to get himself under control.

  “They’re talking to each other,” Safin said. “You’re going to want to hear this.”

  “Be right there.”

  Mick fastened her pants, pulled up her zipper, and jogged to the cockpit, ignoring the discomfort from her lower regions. And turning her back on Ariston. He felt he’d made a mistake. Fine. She wasn’t going to throw herself at him, and she refused to be upset. What was he to her, after all? Some asshole that wanted to arrest her for a mistake.