He must like it because his hips jut upward, his muscles contracting, and with a ripping, snapping sound, he breaks my stockings. Every one of them is in tattered shreds when he grabs ahold of my waist with bruising strength. Oh, shit.
“What have you done?” he shouts, but I can feel him spurting inside of me, hot and strong. I’m dizzy with waning pleasure. When both of us settle, I try to lift my hips but…wait. What? I’m…we’re…oh, no.
Yahni’s chuckle is laced with evil. He’s so swollen inside me that we’re literally stuck together like a couple of dogs at the zoo! Yahni flips us so he’s on top and he grabs my wrists, pinning them over my head in anger. He’s breathing hard over top of me, his hair draping down and tickling my face and neck. When his next climax hits, he growls and presses his strong hips into mine. His base throbs like a thumping vibrator. I scream, my body convulsing in another shattering orgasm, and he curses, every muscle tense and hard.
“Damn you, Reesa.” Again, and again we come until I’m so exhausted I can’t open my eyes. I’m sweating. He’s sweating. It’s so scary and amazing—I can’t believe it’s like this. I’m so sad for the Keplarian women that they can’t enjoy it. He finally finishes and I feel his body tremble. Before he can pull out and leave me, I gently take his face in my hands and reach up to peck his lips. He wrenches back and scowls down at me. I can tell he wants to be angry, but the kiss has done something to him. His anger seems to turn to confusion, his eyes flashing between several emotions.
I slowly, carefully slide my arms around his neck and pull him to me, kissing him properly. I’m prepared for him to pull away, but to my shock, he hesitates only momentarily before melting into me and kissing me back. His hands move into my hair, cupping the back of my head. After half a minute, he abruptly yanks away and pulls out of me, sitting up and moving to the end of the bed to glower at the wall.
I chew my lip as warmth floods my heart. “You’re a good man, Yahni.”
His head jerks to me, pinning me with those freakish eyes. I hold my breath and wait for him to say something snide in return, but he opts for pursing his lips and ripping the remaining stockings from his wrists and ankles, throwing them to the ground. He then stomps around the room, picking up his clothes and putting them on with jerky movements.
He’s halfway to the door and I’m smiling. “Happy birthday.”
Yahni grunts, shaking his head. But the look of reluctant amusement he flashes me before he walks out very much shows his human side, and I smile even bigger once he’s gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Months pass, and I watch a change come over the men as their mission nears. Moments of humor are fewer. Sex is shorter, more focused, and if possible even more intense. Their minds are switching into fight mode, and it’s both disturbing and fascinating to witness. It’s impossible not to share their excitement and trepidation. Although their eagerness far outweighs mine at the prospect of war.
The men take turns coming to me after their sparring and workouts, not for sex, but for massages. They’re filled with knots and tension. The captain has bags under his eyes on a daily basis.
I learn a lot about the men in those days. They spill their souls to me when I’m in masseuse mode. Milaz tells me of his former nine year marriage and how hard it was on his wife to have a traveling soldier for a partner, and how he’s missed getting to watch his two sons grow into teenagers. Tripoli divulges that he didn’t find out about his father’s sudden death until three weeks afterward—he missed the funeral and everything. Tiko waxes poetic about the woman he thinks is his “soul mate” in a place called Japan, and how he plans to find her after this mission.
Devlar and Rawko are still young in comparison to the others, and I’m surprised when both men show signs of something akin to sadness. Or perhaps…longing? For what, I’m not sure, but if I had to guess from wistful hints they both want something, or someone, to call their own. It’s a lonely existence for the Hornets.
I’m in awe of each man, and more scared for them than I ever thought possible.
Exactly one week before our estimated arrival in the Clyvorn atmosphere, I arrive at dinner to find the seven men huddled in conversation. Their gazes are grave when they notice me. Captain Lexon is not with them.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my heart in my throat.
It’s a testament to their respect for me that they don’t hesitate to tell me.
“It’s Cap,” Milaz says. “He can’t even get up. We’re trying to decide what to do.”
My blood pressure rises. “Is it his head?”
The others nod. Milaz continues. “We’re considering medicating him, but…”
Tripoli huffs out a caustic laugh. “But he’ll kick our motherfuckin’ asses.”
“We’re only a week out,” Rawko says. “I think it’s worth the ass-kickin’ if he’s at least got his wits about him. He’s being…never mind.”
“Stubborn,” I finish for him. Some of the men smirk and look away. None of them will dare badmouth the captain, but this is ridiculous. “I’ll take care of it.”
“No!” All of the men step forward, their faces going slack.
I cross my arms. “I’m not going to do anything sexual. But I can give a scalp massage that will help.”
“Reesa, Cap doesn’t like being touched.” Devlar’s forehead is pinched.
I’ve made up my mind. “He won’t punish me. He might have harsh words for me, but I can survive that.” I look into their concerned faces. “Don’t worry about me. This has gone far enough. Let me do this.” For him. For all of them.
They exchange apprehensive glances as I turn to go, and I ignore their calls at my back. I move briskly to Captain Lexon’s room, not allowing myself to slow or think. Every nerve prickles under the surface of my skin. I place my hand on his door panel and it slides open with a whoosh. I squint into the darkness, barely able to make out his body on the bed. A low groan comes to me and I step in, closing the door behind me. It takes a few moments for my eyes to slightly adjust, but even then I have to feel my way to the bed.
I slip off my shoes and climb onto the mattress, my mini skirt inching upward. My pulse rushes in my ears as I take the captain’s head and place it into my lap over my crossed legs. Pity fills my chest at the thought of how much pain this huge man has to be in for him to allow me to do this. I don’t even know if he’s aware.
And then he mumbles in a low, hoarse voice, “What are you doing?”
My insides leap, then seize with panic that I have to push aside. “I’m going to take care of you, Lexon, and you’re in no position to fight me on this. I will not leave the room until your ailment is lifted and you’re resting. Now keep your eyes closed and stay quiet. Trust me.” He groans, but says nothing else.
It’s so dark that I can only make out blurred shapes. My hands begin their ministrations, thumbs gently circling his forehead. His skin and muscles are so tight. I’m glad his hair is cropped short because it’ll be easier for my fingers to work across his scalp. I don’t rush the process. Gentle circlings give way to harder pressure. I work my way over every muscle in his face, then from the front of his scalp to the back of his neck. It’s tricky since he’s in my lap and I have to reach between my legs at an awkward angle, but I manage.
An hour and a half into it, my arms and hands are burning from exertion, and the captain begins to lightly snore. He’s become heavy. I lean my head back against the wall and smile into the darkness. I did it. The captain is completely and utterly relaxed. I continue to run my fingers over the soft spikiness of his short hair, enjoying the rippling sensation as I recall the soft groans and moans he released during the massage. I’d be lying if I said those sounds in the darkness didn’t cause me to tingle. And then there was the moment when he whispered my name in a guttural voice just before his body went slack, the tension releasing from him in a rush that made him tremble.
He will be angry that I took advantage of his illness, and I do
n’t expect him to thank me, but I have the satisfaction of knowing I helped him, and therefore helped his men and their mission. I will not apologize or feel guilty.
Now it’s time to leave him. I’m contemplating exactly how I’ll extract myself from under his heaviness. I manage to pull one stiff leg out from my criss-cross position and straighten it, flexing my toes. But before I can make another move, the captain rolls to his side, laying his head on my thigh and successfully pinning it down. My eyes bulge. Captain Lexon is using my leg as a pillow. He’s snuggling me.
Okay. Breathe. Get ahold of yourself.
I straighten my other leg, allowing the blood to flow back in. I try to wiggle to the side, but he grips my thigh in his strong hands and his scruffy cheek rubs me, sending a shiver up my spine. Oh, stars. I should not be getting turned on by a sleeping man. And then, by the galaxies, damned if Lexon doesn’t reach up and put an arm under my waist, pulling me down and rolling to his stomach.
I suck in a breath, thinking for a blissful second that he’s awake and trying to get frisky, but once he nestles him chest between my legs, he lays his head on my lower abdomen and crashes heavily, breathing deeply, his hands holding my waist. I’ve become a body pillow. My lips press together as I hold back a laugh. He has no idea what he’s doing, and he’ll be so angry when he realizes.
I should pull out from under him. My mind races with all of the possibilities. If I wake him, his discomfort about the situation could reverse all of the work I just did. The thought of fighting right now is too disheartening to handle. He needs to sleep, and he’s comfortable, so I’m just going to stay here until he shifts enough that I can slide out without disturbing him.
So I nestle into the pillow, allowing myself to enjoy the captain’s strong body draped across my lower half, and the musky warm scent of man surrounding me. What I don’t intend to do is fall asleep. So much for good intentions.
***
My eyes flutter open at the feel of warm air heating my core. And then…my chest heaves with a shocked intake of air…because I think I feel the captain’s warm breath on my inner thigh. It lasts only a heartbeat before he leaps inhumanly fast, pinning me tightly to the mattress. I let out a surprised scream. It’s still pitch dark so I can’t see his face.
His voice is deep. Beastly. “What the hell are you doing in my bed?”
Right now the captain is between my legs, every inch of his body rock hard with lethal tension. I should be scared, but it’s having the opposite effect. He must realize it when I let out a breathy whimper because he’s suddenly gone from me.
The lights flash to life and I squint at Captain Lexon at the side of the bed, larger than life. His shoulders are broader than ever, face fearsome enough to make me want to scramble off his bed in a rush. But I don’t. I will not show fear. I hold his fiery gaze as I casually move off his bed, tugging down the skirt and sliding my feet into the sandals.
“What have you done?” he growls. My eyes can’t help but find the huge bulge currently tightening his black work pants, and the sight desperately makes my knees weak. His hands curl into fists like small boulders, forcing my eyes up to his again. Wow. Even angrier than I expected. I can’t help but feel put out and disappointed. Even a little pissed.
“I blew your mind, sir.” I hold up my hands and wiggle my fingers. “With my hands.” I let my arms drop and turn to leave, but he’s suddenly there, grasping my arm to turn me. I peer up at him, my quick breaths giving away my nerves. The captain hasn’t looked this strong in weeks. Gone is the pinched, paltry look he’d been wearing.
One of his giant hands goes up, rubbing his head as he scowls. “I told you, Reesa—”
“You know that lack-of-pain thing you’re feeling right now, Captain?” I snap. “You’re welcome.”
I tug my arm from his grip, still feeling the warmth of where his mouth had been on my inner thigh, and I smack the wall panel. I sashay my ass out, smacking it closed again. I get two steps away when I hear a roar and boom, shaking the floor. Did he just punch the door? My lips press together, because damn it. So much for calming the bastard. He really needs anger management.
Something catches my eye at the end of the hall and I glance up to find Milaz standing there. His eyes narrow as they dash back and forth between me, wearing the same clothes as yesterday, to the captain’s bedroom door. Before I can say a word, he turns on his heel and marches out of sight.
I sigh and let my head fall back. I will explain. I will fix this as best as I can. But I’m not sure there’s any hope for the captain. He’ll probably be tense until the day that he dies, which really upsets me even though I shouldn’t care. I head back to my room, remembering the cozy feel of him nestled against my skin. Calm. Supple. Nothing to cloud his judgment. Just acceptance of my help and appreciation for the softness of my body.
I’m shocked when I get to my room and find it’s nearly breakfast time. The captain and I slept soundly through the entire night. I quickly change my clothes and rush to the kitchen. Slowly, one by one, the light for each man’s room dings on the wall panel, alerting me that they will take their meals in their room. A strange sensation fills me. None of them are coming to the dining room?
Okay, fine.
I scramble eggs and heat sausages, then pile each plate, tossing on some buttered toast. I send each plate down the conveyer tube, punching in their room numbers. The pots and pans clatter louder than normal as I shove them into the dishwasher, inexplicably annoyed.
The ship is like ghost town when I go back to my room and then to the gym for my workout. I show up at lunch, and not a single one of the men will make eye contact with me. Captain Lexon doesn’t bother showing. It’s bizarrely quiet.
“What in the galaxy is wrong with everyone?” I demand.
They all shake their heads, looking around at one another as if they have no idea what I mean. Even Yahni won’t peek at me. I huff and make a dramatic exit from the dining room, leaving my dishes for Dev and Rawk to take care of.
I’m in quite a mood when eight o’clock comes. I have to keep reminding myself that I’m not to shout at Milaz or make demands when he shows. This is his time to relax and release tension. I’ll wait until after we fuck to hound him.
But wait…it’s now 8:01. Milaz is never late. He’s my early Vesto. Sour bile rises in my throat and I swallow it down. My fingers fumble to call his room.
Milaz’s smooth head and manly face fill my screen. I cross my arms and wait.
“What can I do for you, Reesa?”
I blink, trying not to be a harpy. “Did you forget it was your night?”
His gaze moves to the side, in thought, and he runs a tongue across his lips. “No.”
Now my stomach plummets and I drop my arms, stepping closer. “Please tell me what’s going on. Please. What did I do? Why is everyone mad at me?”
His eyes flick back to mine. “Nobody is mad at you. Don’t think that.”
I swallow the moisture of emotion rising. “Then what is it? It’s about the captain, isn’t it? Because he’s mad at me?”
“Mad? Why would he be mad?”
I’m so confused. “Because he didn’t want to accept any help from me, but I went in there anyway.”
He runs a hand back and forth over his head, hesitating. “You stayed the night with him, Reesa. That changes things.”
“What?” He’s making no sense. “How does that change anything?”
Now he lets his head fall back for half a minute, a groan of regret escaping.
“Tell me,” I beg.
Milaz’s eyes crash into mine, open and earnest. “If he finds out we’re having this conversation, I’m dead.”
Surely he’s exaggerating, although he’s not prone to that sort of thing. My breath is short, every nerve sensitive at the thought of finally learning more about the mysterious captain. “I won’t say a word.”
He continues. “I’m sure you know there are no Nevestas on Earth.” I nod. “On our first
intergalactic mission, it was much like this one, but larger. Twelve soldiers. Four servicing crewmembers. Since half our crew were Mars humana, they sent along two Nevestas.” Milaz runs a hand over his smooth head again, then down over the scratchy scruff at his jaw. “It’s hard when you’re a young soldier. You need something to cling to. Something that’s all yours.” I nod for him to continue. “After a month of rotations, Cap fell hard for one of the Nevestas.”
“Oh.” It comes out a breath.
“So, he sort of claimed her. Nobody said anything. Nobody told our superiors. Lexon was a big badass back then, too, and always had a short fuse. Eventually the wait times for one available Nevesta were too much for some of the men. One of them went to his Nevesta and she didn’t deny him.” Milaz lets out another long sigh, his voice rough. “We were tight—all of our crew—but Lexon nearly killed that kid. Beat the shit out of him. He still has a limp twelve years later. Cap was demoted and almost kicked out of the military. He’s spent every minute since then trying to right that wrong.”
The blood drains from my face, leaving me lightheaded.
“Do you hear what I’m telling you, Reesa? The captain is not a man who shares.”
I’m shaking now, trembling from head to toe. I can barely whisper, “But, he didn’t have me. We didn’t…it was only a massage, and then we fell asleep.”
Milaz lifts a skeptical brow and anger surges through me.
“I have no reason to lie!”
“Fact is,” he says, “doesn’t matter. None of the men is willing to risk his wrath or disrespect him in any way. You’re his now.”
I’m speechless. This is all a ridiculous misunderstanding. And there’s only one way to clear it up.
“I’ll take care of this,” I say, but my promise only earns me a dark chuckle. Milaz’s grin is one of warm affection.
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, sweetheart. It was only a matter of time.” His words make me flush from head to toe. If only that were true. Milaz has been mistaking the captain’s disgust for interest. He has no idea how anti-Reesa the captain truly is. My very presence makes him uncomfortable. The man hates everything I stand for.
Into the Stars Page 13
