by Becky Black
“Warner,” he said into his comms, “I need a search party down here stat.”
“Everyone is already on duty.”
The whole squad was busy supervising the loading of cargo and the embarkation of the ore workers. A distant clang sounded, and the deck shuddered beneath his feet for an instant. They must have just attached one of the ore containers. They’d attach several over the next couple of days, clamped right to the hull of the ship, straight under the processing plant itself. Then they hauled up the ore, and the finished product went back into an empty container.
He came back to his starting point to try to figure out a search pattern. “Are there any sensors down here?” he asked Warner, knowing the answer already. “Thermal?”
“No. We’ve got some portable thermal scanners.”
“That might work.” Raine noticed a list lying on top of the boxes of supplies on the cart and walked over there. The items were all checked off, and at the bottom, words in Kit’s handwriting.
Gracie, you’re a bright light out here in the deep dark. Love you, babe. Sorry I can’t say good-bye. Kit.
Shit. Raine could no longer deny it with stories about accidents and malfunctions. Kit had destroyed the tracker and was trying to escape. He could be off the ship already. Or could he? He had to go out a door, but the doors were all guarded while the Dawn was docked. Kit couldn’t simply walk off the ship.
“Warner, Miller’s trying to get off the ship. Check the cameras at every exit.”
“Checking. Is that every exit?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Including the airlocks opening into vacuum? He could try to get into a pressure suit.”
Raine’s stomach plunged as he pounded back up the metal steps. Did Kit know how to use a pressure suit? Or operate safely in vacuum and zero G? This close to the station, with all these ships around, with force fields… Oh hell, no, don’t let him go do something so stupid.
“Seal all the airlocks opening to vacuum. Captain’s override only on them.” He reached the door and ran out.
“Done,” she said. “Chief, I’m checking the records for everyone and everything leaving the ship. The dockers picked up some supplies for the station from the place we lost the signal. Exact same time too.”
“Goddamit! He’s trying to get smuggled off in a crate. Which exit did they use?”
“Lock ten. The last batch of crates went out four minutes ago.”
“I’m on my way.”
As he reached lock ten, Warner’s voice came back.
“Panic’s over, Chief. Station security have got him.”
Raine’s steps faltered only for a moment. “Where?”
“Their HQ. You know where it is?”
“Yes, I know. I’m going down there. Tell the captain what happened and that I’m off ship.” He stepped out of the airlock onto the station. Two of his people, Celani and Sim, were guarding the lock. He briefly thought about yelling at them for not stopping the crates, but they were there only to supervise the people going in and out, not check the cargo.
“Sim, come with me,” he ordered. “Celani, you can manage alone for a few minutes.”
He strode off, and Sim followed. He didn’t question why Raine wanted him. Good thing too, as Raine wasn’t sure he could speak without letting the rage show in his voice.
I’d started to trust you, dammit. I’d started to trust you.
* * *
Well, fuck.
That had been a great plan for ten fucking minutes. Kit thought he’d be free and clear if he got off the Dawn. He knew he might be stuck in the crate for a while until it was safe enough to get out, but he hadn’t anticipated that five minutes after the crate left the ship the lid would be ripped off and he’d find himself looking up at a bunch of ugly bastards pointing guns at him.
Actual guns! Jackasses. Raine’s people never waved guns at him.
“He’s in here.” The voice of one of the rent-a-pig station security men. Kit took his head out of his hands and looked up to see the speaker come into the cell block with Raine at his side, Raine scowling so hard Kit was grateful for the bars between them. Still, he gave a defiant glare back, standing up as the station security man unlocked the cell. “Customs picked him up as soon as they did the routine scan of the supplies.”
Customs inspection. He should have expected they’d have such procedures. What a numbskull. A station like this where a lot of ships came and went would be the ideal place for people to try to smuggle contraband.
“A stowaway, eh? Sure we can’t take him off your hands?”
“No,” Raine snapped. He had Kit’s duffel bag in his hand. “He’s our prisoner. My captain decides what happens to him.”
“Okay. If he decides to, you can drop the prisoner off with us.”
“She,” Kit said. The security officer looked at him. “The captain is a woman.”
The man snorted. “No wonder she’s soft on the likes of you, then. Okay, Mr. Raine. He’s all yours.”
Kit walked out of the cell, and when he stopped in front of him, Raine reached out suddenly. Kit flinched until Raine touched his hair and pushed it back, revealing a couple of bruises already darkening on the side of Kit’s face.
“How did he get these?”
“I fell down the stairs,” Kit said.
Raine gave him a be quiet glare and turned to the security man. “How did he get the bruises?”
“He put up a fight when we caught him. Dirtiest fighter I’ve seen in a while,” he added with a tone of some admiration. “And believe me, we see some dirty fighting on this station. You want me to cuff him?”
“Not necessary.”
Kit learned why when they went out into the office to find Big Sim out there waiting. He tried a wan smile on Sim, but the big man appeared more carved out of stone than usual. Raine took Kit’s arm in one gloved hand and steered him out of the door.
“Behave yourself,” Raine said when they were outside in the busy thoroughfare. “Or else I’ll have Sim carry you over his shoulder again.”
“I’ll behave,” Kit said quietly. He had no intention of misbehaving. He’d rather be back on the Dawn—civilization—than stuck here with the rent-a-pigs and the crowds. The place teemed with what must be ore plant workers, having a last drink or ten before the voyage got underway. They were raucous and rather frightening.
Raine let go of his arm, though he remained tense as they began to walk back to the ship, Sim following. The tension radiating from Raine was as intense as the heat from the galley’s bread ovens. It must come from holding in his rage. Kit had humiliated him in the eyes of station security and the other officers on the Light of Dawn. When they got back aboard, he’d release the rage—on Kit.
Chapter Six
Raine dumped the contents of Kit’s duffel bag onto his desk. The broken tracker landed on its side and rolled toward the edge of the desk, but Raine slapped it down flat. The locking catch and the area with the electronics in it were burned through.
“How did you do this?” he demanded of Kit, who’d thrown himself into a chair, where he sat glowering at Raine. Kit didn’t speak, just nodded at another item on the desk. Raine picked it up and recognized it as a handheld medical laser.
“You stole this from the infirmary?”
“I was going to sell it. I needed cash—since you took mine.”
“Yours? You mean the money you stole?”
“I did not steal it. I am not a thief.”
“None of these things belong to you.” Raine swept a hand over the items on the desk. “The clothes you’re wearing don’t belong to you.”
Kit jumped to his feet. He wore a short, dark jacket that showed off his narrow hips and shapely ass to perfection. But he tore off the flattering garment and tossed it at Raine.
“You want them back?” Hopping on one foot, he started to pull off a boot.
“If you throw a boot at me, I’m getting out the stun gun,” Raine warned. Kit
glared and looked ready to do it anyway, but then put his foot down and stood breathing hard, hair falling forward into his face.
“Why couldn’t you let me go? I’d stop being your problem. Just let me go.”
“Go where? Where did you think you were going to go? You had no money. Selling this”—he picked up the laser scalpel—“would barely have bought you a bed for the night. What were you going to do?”
“I’d have thought of something.”
“Like what? Selling yourself?”
“You think that’s all I’m good for?”
“That station is dangerous. It’s no place for an office boy.”
“Junior executive!”
“Were you going to stow away on another ship? What makes you think you’d have any better success there?”
“Then I’d escape again. And again. As many times as it takes to get safe.”
“You have no plan, do you? You’re playing it by ear.”
“No, I have no plan. I don’t have anything. They took it all away.”
“Who’s they?”
Kit faltered but then shook his head. “Never mind. You don’t care.”
“Why didn’t you trust me—us? We’d have helped you. The captain. The company. We’d have seen you weren’t railroaded.”
“Oh yeah. I’m sure you’d have gone outta your way for me. Don’t give me that bull. The only one I can rely on is me.”
“You’re in bigger trouble than I thought.”
“Funny guy.”
“I’m not trying to be funny.” Raine shook his head. “Kit, you need friends, and I’ll admit you’re good at making them. But you aren’t so good at keeping them.”
“What friends? You? The captain? You’re not my friends. You’re my jailers.”
“What about Gracie?”
A guilty look flashed across Kit’s face, but then his expression hardened. “She’s better off without me. All of you are.”
This might be true. But Raine couldn’t stand the thought of it. He wanted to grab Kit and shake him and tell him he couldn’t go. That Raine couldn’t let him leave. The surge of rage and fear he’d felt when he’d realized Kit was trying to escape had shaken him. You left me! He wanted to scream it. You left me and I don’t know why it hurts so much. He gritted his teeth and pictured the open sky until he brought himself back under control.
“What happens now?” Kit asked quietly.
“I’ll have to lock you up until the captain decides.”
“You should have let me go.”
He said it quietly this time. Not a demand like before and yet it enraged Raine.
“No,” he snapped. “I can’t let you go.” God, shut up. That hadn’t come out right. Kit looked at him with an altogether too penetrating gaze.
“Why not?”
“Like I said, you’re our prisoner.”
“No other reason?”
“What else?”
“Do you think I’ve got amnesia? Do you think I’ve forgotten about what happened in that elevator? Do you think I believe you’ve forgotten it?”
Hard to forget something Raine’s thoughts turned to in every idle moment.
“Do you think I don’t know why you’ve been avoiding me?” Kit said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You want me. Why won’t you admit it?”
“Because I’m chief of security and you’re a criminal, you damn fool.”
Kit grinned. The little bastard actually grinned. “So not denying it, then?”
“Shut up. We are not talking about this. What I feel doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
Raine looked at him hard. The sincere expression in his eyes was convincing, but Raine didn’t dare believe it.
“Don’t lie to me. Are you trying to say you want me? Because I don’t believe you. You’re trying to distract me again.”
“Is it working?” Grinning again.
“No, it’s not.”
“You sure?” His gaze slid down the front of Raine’s body, stopping at his crotch and the bulge growing there.
Raine gasped as if Kit had touched him. He hadn’t even realized he was getting hard, he’d been so enthralled by the sight of Kit with so much emotion playing across his face. So open, so real. Not playing a part. How could Raine ever have thought he might be a con artist? He showed everything on his face.
Right now he showed only one thing on it. Desire.
“If you admit what you want, maybe I won’t even try to escape again.”
“Is that some kind of bargain?”
“No. But maybe I wouldn’t even try to leave if you can make me want to stay.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I’m such a great catch. The one you’ve been dreaming of all your life.”
“You’re a good kisser.”
Heat rose up Raine’s neck, and the remark certainly did nothing to make his erection go down.
“Do you dream about it?” Kit asked. “Dream we did more? Is that why you’re so angry? Because I tried to leave, and you haven’t had a chance to—”
He got no more words out, because Raine’s mouth was on his before Raine knew what he was doing. Better than in the elevator. Fitted together better. Like in his dreams of doing this, doing more.
Kit pulled the shirt from Raine’s belt, searching for skin and having trouble finding it when he encountered Raine’s undershirt next. He made a frustrated sound and pulled away from the kiss.
“You wear far too many clothes, you cold-blooded bastard.”
They could stop, Raine thought, his senses returning briefly as the high of the kiss waned. But Kit didn’t stop. Giving up on removing the shirt, he grabbed Raine’s left hand and pulled the glove off it, then the other, before moving to unzip Raine’s pants. Raine glanced at the firmly closed but unlocked door. Could he get Kit out of here, to his cabin? And how the hell would that look to his people working right outside the door? Kit’s next destination was the brig. And from there the captain might put him off the ship. Raine might never see him again. Never have a chance to…
All control vanished. Raine pulled Kit close again, needing that hot mouth under his. Needing more. This had to happen, because if it didn’t and he lost the chance, he might never regain his sanity. He finally understood what people meant when they said someone they desired drove them crazy. How could crazy be good? Now he knew it wasn’t “good” but rather something else. Something terrifying and wonderful at once.
They stumbled to the couch by the wall and sprawled awkwardly on it. Kit bucked and pushed Raine away but only to give himself space to get a hand into his pants pocket.
“Dammit, no. Jacket pocket.”
Raine didn’t ask what he meant, just jumped up and grabbed the jacket from the desk. From the pocket he pulled a tube of lubricant and a pack of condoms. Fear and rage surged through him when they made him think what Kit might have had to do to get himself off that station. But it did nothing to cool his desire.
Kit had discarded his boots and finished wriggling out of his pants as Raine got back to the couch. He dropped them to the floor and turned over, leaning over the arm of the couch. His long legs stretched out behind him, his ass half-covered by the tail of his shirt. The sight sent Raine into what felt like the final stages of some kind of desire-induced madness. He pulled down his fly zip and freed his aching cock. With no time to be gentle or relish the experience, he squeezed lube onto his fingers and prepared Kit. Kit hissed.
“Cold.”
“Sorry.”
“Okay. Okay. Don’t stop.” He writhed and pressed back against Raine’s probing fingers, then moved one hand underneath to stroke himself and moaned. The moan sent Raine almost mad. He withdrew his fingers and grabbed a condom, cursing himself for not doing that before getting one hand slick with lube. But he managed to fumble it on and could wait no longer. One knee on the sofa, one foot on the floor, balance precarious but too far gone to care, he sli
d his hands up Kit’s ass, pushing the shirt aside, settling on his hips. The head of Raine’s cock touched Kit, stroked down until it nudged his entrance.
“Oh fuck, do it!” Kit pleaded. “Please, Raine. I’ve waited long enough.”
Raine thrust, deep and hard at once, shocked at his aggression. Kit gasped, and Raine had a moment of doubt, fearing he’d hurt him. But the way Kit shoved back against him reassured him. He grabbed Raine’s lubed hand and pulled it around under him. Raine hadn’t even got a good look at Kit’s cock, but it certainly felt good—long and hot. He pumped it, and Kit started panting and gasping. As Raine thrust, those sounds grew more like moans, faster but growing higher pitched, turning to gasps again. He was so vocal!
Raine himself made little sound, inhibited even in such an out-of-control moment, but Kit’s unrestrained expressions of enjoyment were the most erotic sounds he’d ever heard. At the same time, they scared him, conscious as he was of the other people only meters away beyond the door. He feared Kit might yell or scream. Feared it but wanted it.
Raine couldn’t last long, not after being so frustrated for so long. Having waited too long. He’d wanted this from the instant they met in the elevator. He’d have taken him right there if he’d had time. Up against the wall. Staked his claim.
His desire grew fast to its peak and blinded him in a ball of white light. He let one moan escape him as he came, but then gritted his teeth to stay quiet as the orgasm surged and too quickly ebbed away, leaving him with trembling knees. His rapid breathing slowed. Kit’s cock was still hard, and he pushed against Raine’s hand, speaking in soft pleas. Raine pulled himself together enough to start pumping it again.
Taste it. Turn him around. Go down on him. You want his cock. You want it. Too late. Kit shuddered, his body gripping Raine’s cock still inside him, softening only slowly, and Raine’s hand filled with warm stickiness. The sharp smell of semen brought him back to his senses.
Oh God, how would he get the smell out of here? Anyone walking in would know. Well, yes, he still had Kit’s cock in his hand and his cock in Kit’s ass. Finding them in this position, the smell of sex would hardly be needed to confirm it. Yes, the chief of security had just screwed a prisoner.
