by Dani Worth
I shivered and he chuckled.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
Juniper and Namito watched the room as Anders looked outside. “Guess the folks here are used to bar fights. Not a curious soul about.” Anders tucked his gun inside his jacket and reached back for me.
I sighed and gave him my hand. “I just incinerated a man and you’re still going all protective on me.”
“Always,” was all he said as he hefted Clay tighter and half carried him down the stone pathway.
Namito and Juniper went after our bags for us as we headed toward the ship. Clay slept against Anders during the two hour ride, then they had a short, fierce argument when Clay insisted on calling Kithra before visiting their med scanner.
The captain slumped in front of a vidscreen on the bridge and hooked into Kithra’s main communications. He didn’t bother to pretend he was okay, not that he could have anyway. His blood-caked form showed complete exhaustion in his lowered shoulders and pale face.
A woman with long dark hair in a ponytail came on screen. “Captain Asshole!”
“Just how many people call him that?” I whispered to Anders.
“A lot.” He smiled and ran his hand over the captain’s hair.
The woman leaned closer, frowned. “You look like shit, but I see you’re letting the big guy touch you. Finally wised up, eh?”
Clay didn’t respond to the question and this worried me more than how bad he looked.
“Lia and Bucho brought Crichton on board,” he said tiredly. “We’re taking him home. You’ll have to prep your med unit.”
“Tell me you shot him,” she said, her lips thin with anger. “A lot.”
“No. Didn’t have to. The authorities on Burga One just handed him over. He has some kind of weird pneumonia.”
She frowned, leaned close to the screen. “We can treat all pneumonia these days. Why didn’t they give him an injection?”
“He refused it.”
“Really.” She leaned back. “Interesting. Got vid?”
He nodded and leaned over to reach the switch that would open the camera in Crichton’s room. It wasn’t really a cell, but a kind of supply room with nothing in it other than cabinets. They hadn’t even given him a pallet of some sort.
Clay swayed and I rushed forward to help him, ending up mostly in his lap to reach the switch. Clay’s tired smile was in complete opposition to the strong grip he got onto my hip to keep me there. He slid his palm over my waist, wrapped his arm around me.
The woman seemed more interested in me than in the video we streamed to her. I glanced at it to find that scary shell of a man mostly covered by a blanket on the floor. Stringy blond hair in a tangled mess spilled around his head. I looked away. It was hard to hate someone who looked that pathetic, even knowing everyone believed him responsible for blowing up Kithra. I looked back at the woman.
“The name’s Lux,” she said.
“I’m Siri.” I remembered hearing about her. Her stare unnerved me—it was so pointed and probing.
She smiled, suddenly looking a lot friendlier. “Vala told us about you. We’re looking forward to meeting you. Kithra has come a long way in the last couple of years. You’ll be so happy to see what we’ve been doing.” She looked at someone behind her and smiled.
Another Gwinarian came on the screen and I gasped because he reminded me so much of home. He kissed her temple and leaned over her shoulder to look at me. “We look forward to your arrival, Siri.”
I could only stare at him. Partly because he was really nice to look at.
Clay’s tired sigh behind me made me turn to him. “There are more like him on your planet, but I’m pretty sure Lux doesn’t want to share this one.”
“Yeah, I’ve embraced the Gwinarian lifestyle, but your captain is right. We’re happy just the way we are. This is Egan, by the way. He will be a good friend.” She winked.
I smiled, sudden excitement chasing away the horror of what I’d just done to a man. Seeing Vala and Bastian had been a wonderful thing, but this man made me able to fully realize that I would be going home. Really going home.
Clay’s hands tightened on me and I turned to him, only to frown at the brief look of pain that crossed his face. “We have to go,” I said to Lux. “Clay needs medical attention. Do you know how to contact Bastian?”
Lux nodded.
“Will you tell him that I killed Para Lashin?”
Lux covered her mouth, but nodded.
“Thank you.” I stood up and let Anders pull the captain from the seat. Clay let him maneuver him without fuss. Worried, I waved goodbye to Egan and Lux and asked Lia to disconnect for us. I followed as Anders half carried Clay to the med scanner. His ribs weren’t as bad as they looked—nothing cracked, just bruised. Clay gave Anders a look that said he’d told him so but agreed to a pain killer injection. He tried to walk on his own back to his cabin, but Anders ignored him and helped.
“He’ll perk up when that injection really kicks in,” Anders assured me.
When we walked Clay into his washroom, my back hit the wall. I let myself slide to the floor as everything that had happened in the last hours settled into my chest.
Anders shot me a concerned glance and I waved him off. “Just help him.”
The captain leaned against the wall too, his black eyelashes stark on his too-pale cheeks. Blood streaked his chin, was flaking on his neck. He shifted, winced, and a clump of mud fell to the floor. He’d fallen once on the way back and unfortunately, it had been in a puddle.
Exhaustion looked unnatural on Clay—like the intense vitality he usually wielded had been painted with a layer of gray.
Shaking his head, Anders pushed the weapons jacket off him, letting it fall to the floor. Then he unfastened the clasps on Clay’s shirt, frowning when he had to peel it from the man. The material had become stiff and stuck to his skin as the mud dried. The sleeve caught on his fist and Anders stopped to gently uncurl Clay’s fingers so the shirt could hit the tile.
When Anders knelt to take off Clay’s boots, I caught a slit of crystal blue as the captain’s eyes opened slightly. He watched quietly as Anders slid his fingers inside the waistband of Clay’s pants to open the fasteners. He halted briefly, gaze locked with Clay’s as he waited for the okay to continue. All Clay did was give him a slight smile, close his eyes and lean his head back onto the wall. He did nearly lose his balance when he lifted a leg to help Anders take off his pants, but a big hand pushed against his abdomen, held him to the wall.
Anders straightened and wrapped one arm around Clay’s waist to tug him close. He reached into the shower cubicle to place the palm of his other hand on the preference panel. “One hundred five degrees.”
“Maybe you should start it cooler until he acclimates to the room,” I said, my weariness slurring my words a little. “It’s cold in here.”
“It won’t be for long.” He aimed a soft smile in my direction. “Trust me, our captain likes the water scalding. This is as low as I dared go.”
I was surprised when Clay didn’t speak up even when Anders maneuvered him into the cubicle. Multiple spigots like the ones in the rent room we hadn’t been able to use aimed water at the captain, who did nothing but sway in place. When he started to fall, Anders quickly stepped in next to him. He held one hand wrapped around Clay’s biceps as he tried to unfasten his own clothes one-handed.
Pulling on all my energy reserves, I stood and walked over to help Anders get out of his clothes. He smiled his thanks. “I’d ask you to join, but it looks like I’d be holding you up too.”
“I need to sit a little longer. I’ll join in a moment.”
One blond eyebrow lifted, obvious interest filling his expression as he raked his gaze over me. “You’re going to get into the shower? With us? Clothes or not?”
I just smirked at him and shook my head before pushing his pants down so he could step out of them. “I’m glad you took your boots off out there.”
“Couldn
’t see them under that mud.”
I looked down at my own formerly tan borrowed boots and grimaced. We’d both jumped into the deep puddle after Clay. Now, I backed up, spotted a folding wall seat and pushed the button to lower it. I collapsed onto the seat and then couldn’t stop the grin that took over my mouth. “Now that is the nicest view I’ve had all day.”
Anders had gently pushed the captain against one wall until he seemed able to stand on his own. Clay’s eyes were now open and locked on to Anders’s face as the taller man held his hand under the dispenser for soap. The captain had the good kind that lathered up fast and before long, Anders had covered Clay’s torso in white suds. He slowly ran his hands over Clay’s shoulders and turned him slightly so he could reach his back. He kept his touch impersonal, didn’t linger.
But he wasn’t as successful with his gaze. Those green eyes devoured the captain’s body with a long-burning hunger I could feel across the room. I didn’t blame him. Clay’s body didn’t have an ounce of superfluous flesh. Taut muscles wrapped his slim form, silky-looking hair spattered the surprisingly ripped chest. Lean, ropy muscles lined his thighs and calves, both of which were lightly covered in dark hair too. His tattoos drew the eyes. And the fingers.
Clay’s hair was plastered to his face. His sharp blue eyes stayed glued on Anders as the bigger man gently rubbed soap on his cheeks, jaw and neck.
I’d never seen the captain look so vulnerable, never imagined I’d see him let Anders attend to him like this…see him stare up at his friend with something that looked very much like love mixed with a desperate need for comfort. Someone needed a hug.
Anders slicked back Clay’s hair, got more soap and began to gently scrub the captain’s scalp. Clay still didn’t take his eyes off Anders’s face, not even when soap threatened to sting them. I held my breath, touched by what neither man was saying out loud. Anders rinsed his hair, making sure to tilt his head back so the soap didn’t get into his eyes. The whole time, he ran his fingers through the captain’s hair and stared back into his eyes.
Clay cracked a smile, starting to look more alert. He shook his head and leaned forward to rest his forehead on Anders’s chest. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I have lots of ideas,” Anders murmured against the top of his head.
His gaze met mine and the hope shining there tore into me. Claybourne’s armor had cracked all the way through. I put my palm on my stomach, tried to settle the crazy churning, then it was like something inside me clicked. Anders looked at me with hope too. Before I could lose my nerve, I pulled off the boots, stood up and pulled the thick shirt over my head. I’d set the tranque gun down when we’d come into the room, surprised to find all three of our bags on the bed in this room instead of spread into our own rooms.
Anders went still and Clay, sensing something was up, tiredly turned his head against Anders until he could see me.
I pulled off the T-shirt I’d worn underneath and dropped it on top of the shirt. Clay’s blue eyes flared wide but he didn’t move. It was like both men were afraid I’d stop if they budged. I kind of was afraid of that myself. As it was, the shaking had started in my legs. Fear gripped me in a tight fist.
But the desire to be a part of them was stronger.
My hands quaked so hard, it took me three tries to unfasten the foreign buttons in the front of my pants. Once I did, I pushed the material down fast and stood there, feeling foolish, but not bad enough to stop my forward momentum. I knew the scars on my thighs were ugly and that there were a few on my back to match, that my elbow looked odd with its badly healed break—but I honestly felt beautiful as they stared at me.
I slowly walked to the shower stall and squeezed behind Clay. “I can help so you can wash too.” My voice quaked as much as my body, but I wrapped my arms around Clay and pressed my front to his back.
Clay made a strangled noise in his throat.
Anders chuckled and stepped back. “Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure he can stand all on his own now.” His gaze ran down the front of Clay’s body. “In more ways than one.”
“He was already like that. From you.”
“Still awake here, you know,” Clay muttered. “But I don’t mind the help standing up.”
He could balance on his own—of that I had no doubt. It was obvious the pain injection was working now. But if he was willing to pretend to keep me there, I was willing to go along with it. Water poured down over the three of us, hot, but not as hot as his body. He felt solid and strong against me, but I tightened my arms to hold him tight. Close. He turned his head to look at me and I tried to smile, I did.
“You’re shaking so hard. Nobody is going to do anything you don’t want, okay?”
I nodded.
“Our captain is too tired anyway.” Anders stepped back. “But the view and the memory of it will keep me happy for days.” He filled his palms with soap and tilted his head back to wash his hair. He never took his gaze off us, even when suds ran into his eyes.
Clay had turned back to watch and I put my chin on his shoulder to do the same. I loved the feel of his body against the front of mine. It surprised me, this heat and desire and even comfort. I watched the soap suds slide down Anders’s neck over his broad shoulders and down his chest. The suds stuck in the soft mat of blond hair on his chest until the water pushed them down to drift over the ridges of his taut stomach and farther. I blinked at the impressive erection, which stood tall and proud. My hands actually tightened into fists because the urge to slide those suds around his cock was strong.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” whispered Clay.
“Yes,” I answered, my tone just as low as his.
Anders froze, arms still in the air. His breath picked up and something passed over his face, something that made my stomach clench hard before he abruptly turned. “Fuck. Can’t concentrate. Gotta get all the soap out of here.”
Clay turned and looked at me. I knew what he asked—if I was okay with him turning the heat up. His eyes sparkled as usual and I was glad Anders had insisted we visit the scanner first. I nodded and lowered my arms. He stepped close to Anders and slid his hands up the taller man’s back to grip his shoulders.
Anders turned, obviously struggling to keep his expression from showing how very much he needed to be touched. He failed. Clay must have pulled on all his strength reserves because within a moment, he had Anders against the shower wall. He stroked his hands up Anders’s chest, down his arms, then tangled their hands together. He lifted Anders’s hands above his head and pressed them against the wall. Just as he’d done that first night we were all in his room together.
A shiver ran through me as I watched Clay lift up enough to press his mouth to Anders’s. The bigger man growled, started to tug on his hands, but Clay held him tight to the wall. Muscles bunched in arms, in taut stomachs and thick thighs. Their mouths opened as each man fought for dominance in the kiss.
The heat that filled me then had nothing to do with the strangely never-ending hot water coming from every direction in this shower. I wanted to touch. No, I had to touch. I held both hands under the soap dispenser until my palms were filled with slippery, warm soap. Stepping closer to the men, I took my gaze off their kiss only long enough to locate both hard cocks. Clay hadn’t moved in enough for their lower bodies to touch and I took full advantage. I wrapped my hands around each, gasping at the slick, hot skin.
Theirs were the first cocks I’d touched voluntarily. Always before I’d closed my eyes, tightened my fingers and got through whatever I had to so it was over fast. I knew how to touch to make them come faster, knew what men liked. But I used none of that knowledge here. Instead, I touched slowly, firmly, fascinated by the differences in the men. While both had silky-smooth skin, Anders was thicker, Clay longer. I rubbed my thumbs over the slits in the top, noticing that both men had gone perfectly still. Anders hissed and I looked up to find blue and green eyes looking from one man’s cock to the other’s, then up at me.
> “Don’t stop kissing,” I whispered. “I like it.” I squeezed and twisted my hands at the tops and Clay closed his eyes. “Touch each other more.”
Clay opened his eyes, looked up at Anders, and I felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten against the back of my fingers as he stretched up to meet Anders’s mouth. He let go of Anders’s hands. Anders immediately gripped Clay’s neck and slanted his mouth even harder on Clay’s, his lips opening Clay’s wide, his tongue sliding into his mouth.
Clay made a hoarse sound in his throat as he lowered back onto his heels. He widened his stance, his hands sliding over Anders’s chest, down to his stomach and around his waist.
Anders kissed him over and over.
“I love watching you touch each other. Love the sounds you make.”
The men moved closer together and I held both their cocks in one hand so I could hold out the other for more soap. Once I got them nice and slick, I picked up the tempo, loving the way Clay threw his head back and hissed, the way Anders thrust his hips faster and faster. Then Clay licked water from Anders’s collarbone, moving down to run his tongue over Anders’s abs. I watched those muscles quiver under Clay’s mouth, could imagine the feel of his hot tongue, the stroking caress of his lips as he pressed one kiss after another to hot skin.
I groaned.
Anders touched my arm and I froze. I looked up into his eyes and felt none of the terror. Not a drop. I smiled one of the real smiles he loved so much and his expression lit up.
“It’s gone?” he asked. “The fear?”
I nodded, shock probably making me look comical. “I’m not afraid at all. You can touch me. You can both touch me.”
The squeal that escaped my lips would have humiliated me at any other time, it was so girly and surprised, but I didn’t care because both Clay and Anders reached for me and tugged me between them. My front was to Clay, and Anders pulled my hair aside to open his mouth over my neck.
“Oh,” I breathed, just as Clay pressed his entire body to the front of mine and slowly moved against me. “Oh,” was all I could get out again as I tilted my head back and closed my eyes to better feel everything.
