Perilous Hunt

  “Maybe you can get an upgrade from a good armor smith.”

  “Are you teasing me?”

  “Absolutely.” She rose up to give him a sound kiss. The way his arm tightened around her and he responded sent a thrill through her. But he stopped just as thoughts of her meeting with Durant were fleeing in favor of considering more pleasurable activities.

  Leonidas released her and backed up a step.

  “Are things still swollen?” she asked, trying not to feel disappointment. That first night in his cabin, he had seemed quite interested in physical contact.

  “No. I mean, technically, yes, but not in a medically concerning manner.” His brow crinkled again. “I don’t think.”

  “We don’t have to—”

  “I want to,” he rushed to say, then pushed his hand through his hair. “I very much want to. I’m just concerned about… Well, why don’t I change out of my armor so we can talk?”

  “If you change out of your armor, I’m not sure talking is what I’ll want to do.”

  “Oh.” He looked at her bunk, as if he was considering if he should sit on the edge while fully clad.

  “I’m joking.” She swatted him on the butt, though she knew he sadly would feel little with that on. “Go change. If you want to talk, I’m here to listen.”

  “Good. I’m here for you, too, you know. If you want to talk about Stanislav. Or—” he lifted his eyebrows, “—Mica mentioned that Durant was bothering you about Jelena.”

  “I can handle Durant. I informed him that he’ll be leaving at our next stop. And Jelena will not be. Asshole.”

  Leonidas chuckled. “Yes, you can handle most people.”

  He saluted her and headed for the hatchway. She almost pointed out that she would be happy to handle him, but she didn’t want to be pushy. Sitting and talking about his concerns instead of hers, and perhaps trading massages, would keep her mind off Durant and his delusional promises—threats—about the empire returning. It would also keep her from pacing a hole in the deck while she waited for Mica to give the engine a clean bill of health. And it would be pleasant. Even if these delays continued to grate on her nerves, she knew she needed a chance to unwind.

  “Take your time,” she told Leonidas as he stepped out. “I could use a sanibox visit, and I want to check on Mica, see if she needs anything else before I contemplate retiring for the night.”

  He nodded before disappearing into the corridor.

  “Mica?” Alisa commed, tugging her boots off at the same time. She might not expect anything tonight, but just in case, she would clean and remove any hair on her body that would not add to her womanly allure. “Do you need me for anything?”

  “Not unless you’re suggesting something outré,” Mica said, banging on something as she spoke.

  “I didn’t think I would be your chosen person for the outré.”

  “True, but once I’ve had a few drinks, I get less picky. And I plan to drink later. Lots.”

  “After my engine is fixed, right?”

  “It depends on whether I feel being more relaxed would help with the repairs.”

  “I could send someone down to give you a massage,” Alisa said. “That might be preferable to drinking and working on spaceship engines.”

  “Who are you offering? Leonidas?”

  “I thought I’d ask him to massage me.”

  “Such a selfish captain.”

  “Maybe I could convince Beck that massages are in his job description as security chef.”

  “Do you think he’d like to massage Yumi too? I’ve had her lifting heavy things all day.”

  “Now who’s suggesting the outré?”

  Mica snorted. “Enjoy your night, Captain. I don’t need you. You’re a fine pilot, but when it comes to repairs, I’d rather have someone who doesn’t refer to half the items in the engine room as doohickeys and the other half as thingies.”

  “Whatever gets me out of work.”

  Alisa closed the comm and headed for the sanibox.

  • • • • •

  When Leonidas knocked on her hatch again, Alisa was wearing her pajamas and the closest thing to sexy panties that she owned. Which was to say that the band wasn’t sagging and they didn’t have holes in them. Given the state of her wardrobe, she had pitifully low standards these days.

  She opened the hatch and extended an arm in invitation. “Sit anywhere you like,” she said grandly, as if her cabin were a magnificent parlor with copious options.

  He had changed into the gym pants and T-shirt he often slept in and padded barefoot across the cabin. She smiled, always enjoying his bare feet for some reason. Perhaps because he was usually the professional soldier, clad in all his armor, and she rarely saw him in repose. Oh, what she would give to actually snuggle in bed and relax with him, without having to worry about whether he would doze off and lash out in his sleep.

  He touched her arm and smiled, meeting her eyes before heading in. His gaze slipped to her chest, though he jerked it away and hustled past her. She wanted to tell him that he could ogle anything of hers if he wished—she’d been wanting his ogling for a long time—but didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by pointing out that she had noticed. They could be more open once they were comfortable with being intimate together.

  She grinned at the idea of being intimate with him, her thoughts once again flashing back to the night in his cabin when he’d first shown interest in intimacy. And boobs.

  “I know it hasn’t been long,” she said, “but have you noticed if your sleep has improved at all? Any fewer nightmares?”

  “Uh.” He sat in the chair at the desk instead of on the bed. “I’ve had different kinds of dreams. They’re more enjoyable, if sometimes alarming in their selfishness and ah— Well, I’m not sure how long they will last, anyway. Admiral Tiang didn’t say that the surgery would change my hormones or neurotransmitters or whatever brain chemistry is behind the nightmares.”

  “Dreams about sex sound more promising than dreams about battlefields.”

  “I don’t know. I still woke up putting my elbow into the bulkhead last night while I was, ah, never mind. This isn’t what I wanted to discuss.”

  “No?” She wouldn’t have minded hearing about his sexual dreams, especially if she played a role in them, but that could also wait. “You know, when I invited you to sit anywhere, I meant at one end of the bed or the other.” She touched his shoulder while moving to sit cross-legged on the bunk.

  “The desk hides things.” Indeed, he was sitting quite fully under it, which would make talking to him somewhat awkward.

  “I’m familiar with male things. I was married.”

  “I’m less familiar with them these days.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be comfortably reacquainted soon.” Alisa grinned at him. “Is that what was going on with the elbow in the bulkhead last night?”

  He flushed, looking more like a thirteen-year-old boy caught with dirty vids than a forty-year-old man who had commanded legions.

  She scooted closer and laid a hand on his shoulder. He was facing away from the bed—and from her—but she didn’t take it as a slight. “Sorry, I shouldn’t tease. What did you want to talk about?”

  He bent forward, leaning an elbow on the desk and dropping his forehead into his hand. “Alisa, I wanted to ask you how you’re doing after Durant bothered you, if you’re all right after losing Stanislav, and if you’re worried that you won’t find Jelena in one of these asteroids. But I’m having trouble thinking of anything except how much I want you to move your hand farther down.”

  She would have laughed—and happily complied—but she could feel the tension under her fingers, his muscles coiled as if to spring into combat—or flight. He sounded miserable, not like a man who looked forward to having sex for the first time in twenty years. His “preliminary stirrings” must have launched themselves well past a desirable equilibrium.

  “I appreciate you wanting to help me,” he said, “but I thin
k this was a mistake. The timing. I should have waited until the children were safe and there weren’t androids, imperials, and Alliance ships chasing us.”

  “Given that Stanislav is gone now, it’s good that we didn’t wait,” she said before she realized her words hinted at information she hadn’t meant to share with him.

  He frowned over at her. “Stanislav?”

  “Ah.” Alisa withdrew her hand and clasped it with her other one in her lap. “That’s something I should have mentioned before. Actually, it’s probably something I shouldn’t have allowed to happen at all. But I wanted you to have… everything you wished to have.”

  “Are you saying that he had something to do with Tiang deciding to do the surgery?” Leonidas spoke slowly, maybe imagining how that might have come about.

  “I didn’t ask him to convince Tiang,” Alisa said, worried he would be angry. He was so full of honor that the idea of a Starseer manipulating someone on his behalf would surely disgruntle him. “But I was trying to convince Tiang myself, and Stanislav was eavesdropping. I guess that runs in the family.” She smiled and shrugged. He didn’t smile back. “When I talked to him afterward, he admitted that he’d been the one to make my words more persuasive. I was angry, but at the same time…” She licked her lips and looked at the faded rug on the deck. “I didn’t ask him to knock it off. Otherwise, I’m fairly certain Tiang wouldn’t have disobeyed Hawk’s wishes about doing the surgery only if you agreed to join the Alliance. I think he’s puzzled now as to how it all happened.”

  She could feel Leonidas’s gaze on the side of her face, but couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. She worried she would find disapproval there. Judgment. Especially since he didn’t seem that tickled by his new virility.

  “I should be irked with him for interfering,” Leonidas said, still watching her, “but it’s hard to feel annoyance toward a dead man. Also… I’m having trouble thinking of more than how much I want to touch you right now.”

  Alisa pulled her gaze back toward him, the husky tone of his voice sending a hot tingle through her. His blue eyes, usually so calm and professional, now burned into her soul, his hunger visible in them.

  “That would be permitted,” she whispered.

  She thought he might scoot onto the bed to join her, desks and male things be damned, but instead he clenched his fist and looked away.

  “It might not be wise,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “My control feels tenuous at best.”

  “Control? You’re not supposed to be in control in bed. You’re supposed to let go and have fun.”

  “I wasn’t a cyborg the last time I had fun. An overly eager pelvic thrust wasn’t going to send anyone through a wall.”

  “Oh,” she said, abruptly understanding his hesitancy. Once again, he didn’t want to hurt her. She appreciated the concern, but she highly doubted he would let himself hurt her. “I thought you’d learned control and how to be gentle early in your cyborg career. Your superior officers made you master needlepoint for practice, right?”

  He snorted. “Yes, but I wasn’t excited when I was doing that needlepoint.”

  “No? Sounds like a boring hobby.”

  “Perhaps that’s why I haven’t kept it up.”

  “Does that mean I won’t be getting a gift of a battle scene to hang over my bed?” She smiled, but he didn’t see it.

  He had lowered his chin to his chest, tense. Worried.

  Alisa thought about leaving him alone, or doing her best to come up with a topic of conversation that might let his libido relax some, but if he was truly responding to everything like a hormonal teenager right now, having a woman in her pajamas talking to him might not help, no matter what the topic. But he was still here with her in her cabin. He hadn’t rushed out, so she assumed he didn’t want to leave. He just wanted to not worry about hurting her.

  She stood up and slipped between the bed and the chair, coming behind him to rest her hands on his shoulders. She bent down to kiss the back of his neck.

  “Alisa,” he whispered, his body tensing under her touch.

  “How about you give me the control?” she suggested.

  He hesitated, then twisted his neck to look at her.

  “What?” He sounded intrigued rather than dismissive. Good.

  “I am the captain after all. You can sit on your hands, and I’ll handle the rest this time.”

  He considered this pensively for a few long seconds. She didn’t have any other ideas, so she hoped he found it acceptable.

  “What about pelvic thrusts?” he finally asked, utterly serious.

  “I can tie your hips to the bed if you want. Mica probably has something I can borrow.”

  He snorted again, but this time, a slight smile teased his lips. “I think I can make do without Mica’s help.”

  “Good, because I’m not that interested in leaving the cabin right now.” She kissed the top of his head, enjoying the tickle of his soft hair against her skin, and slid her hands lower, rubbing his pectoral muscles through his shirt.

  “I… don’t want you to leave either.”

  “That’s good, because it’s my cabin. I should definitely get to stay.”

  “Definitely.”

  He shifted around in the chair, abandoning the safety of the desk, to lift his lips toward hers. She smiled again and met them for a kiss. His hunger and desire came through, igniting her own, making her want to climb into his lap right there. She supposed that if she was going to be in control, she ought to show some restraint, to make sure he didn’t worry about anything else except enjoying himself.

  She stroked the side of his face, truly hoping he did. The empire was gone. It was time for him to live for himself, to be free to pursue his dreams, to take pleasure in being a man.

  “Do I have to sit on my hands the entire time?” he murmured against her lips, lifting a hand to brush the side of her breast.

  “I hope you won’t,” she whispered. “A science experiment isn’t much fun without touching.”

  Chapter 17

  Alisa woke to a soft knock on her hatch. She lay curled on her side in her bunk, her blankets snuggled up to her bare shoulders. She lifted her head, looking for Leonidas, even though she would have known without looking if he were there—it wasn’t as if her bed was that large, especially when he was in it. She was the only one under the covers, however. She knew why he had left, but she wished he could have stayed, that she would have woken up in his arms.

  “Come in,” she muttered, before remembering that she was naked under the covers. It was probably Mica with a report on the repairs.

  The hatch opened, and Leonidas padded in, barefoot and shirtless, the light of the corridor silhouetting his broad frame.

  “You came for more?” she asked, pleased to see him instead of someone with a repair list.

  He hesitated, his hand still on the hatch. “Well. That could happen, but you’d mentioned cuddling, and we didn’t do much of that last night. I would have stayed afterward, but you dozed off, and I… didn’t want to risk doing the same.”

  “I know.” She scooted back to make room and patted the bed.

  He lifted the blanket and slid in, offering an arm as a pillow. She snuggled into his chest. Yes, this was how she wanted to wake up in the mornings. He didn’t seem apprehensive now, not when all he had in mind was holding her. It had been hard to get him past his concerns the night before. It had been better after she had taken charge, but she had still sensed him restraining himself, and she’d seen in his eyes that he wanted to do more, to take charge himself, to fully express his passions.

  She kissed his chest and slid her hand up his bare stomach. They would figure it out in time. With practice.

  He stroked her hair—it had fallen from its braid and lay tumbled about her shoulders—but there was a hesitancy to the motion. “It was… awkward, wasn’t it?” Leonidas asked softly, sounding disappointed.

  “I enjoyed myself,” she s
aid, hoping his disappointment wasn’t with her. Her words were the truth. Even if they hadn’t quite reached the ultimate heights of ecstasy, it had meant so much more than simply the physical. After all the times he had been there for her in the last months, she had enjoyed finally being intimate with him, and finally being able to explore his body fully. She smiled, kissing his chest again.

  “That’s not quite what I asked,” he said dryly, threading his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp.

  “I know we’ll get better with practice. Just tell me what you like.”

  “I liked it all.” He kissed her on the mouth, gentle and sweet, and she had the sense that he wanted to express gratitude. “But,” he murmured, drawing back slightly, “I was still worried about…” He sighed, chin drooping to his chest.

  “Overly eager hip thrusts?” she said, smiling, though she understood perfectly what he was saying. Tentative. That was the word that described most of the night. Not awkward. Just tentative.

  “Among other things. I want you to know you’re safe with me. I don’t ever want to hurt you. Again.” He grimaced.

  “I know.” She scooted closer and slid her arm around him so she could rest her chin on his shoulder. “But you don’t need to worry about it until I say something. If I’m not sleeping, I’m excellent at letting people know if I’m being hurt. You may have noticed I have a big mouth.”

  “I lack your marital experience,” he said, lowering his hand to rub her back, “but I’m fairly certain it’s unwise for me to agree with comments like that.”

  “Maybe.” She grinned and shifted so he could see her wriggle her eyebrows. “But I’ll wager you found my big mouth useful last night.”

  For a second, his brow creased, but then he grinned with understanding. “Very useful.”

  “Should we use it again now? It’s still early, isn’t it?”

  “We should use it at every opportunity,” he said, pulling her against him.

  They kissed, and she slid her hand under the covers. “You shouldn’t have bothered putting on any clothes,” she murmured against his lips, tugging at his waistband. “Given your newfound randiness.”