by L H Whitlock
The still-skeptical Brock motioned for her to show him before placing his hand on his hip. Alyssa smirked and first used the aerosol to spray her jumpsuit. She gave it a sniff, then pulled it off the wall and handed it to Brock. He took it and gave it a large whiff, then gave a surprised frown.
“Well I’ll be damned. It actually worked.” He gently hung the suit back on the wall.
Alyssa stuck out her tongue at him. “See, I told ya. You want me to spray you next?”
Brock grinned. “Sure, baby, whatever you want.” He spread out his arm and gave her a wide grin.
Alyssa felt that damn persistent heat rising over her neck again. While attempting to choke the feelings down, she sprayed Brock. The liquid dusted Brock’s skin, then quickly dried. It was a fast-acting formula, only lingering on the skin for a few moments at most. She took time to make sure she got under his arm, between his legs, on the fabric of his boxers, and over his broad chest and his thick thighs. When she was satisfied, she handed the can to Brock.
“You need to get inside your boxers.”
Brock raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to help with that?”
A warning light flashed in Alyssa’s mind. That was a violation, a physical display. That was prohibited. She took a step back. “Uh…”
Brock held up a hand. “Hey, I was just joking around. It’s all right.”
She nodded, but her mouth had dried up and no words were left between her lips.
Brock pulled his boxers away from his waist and sprayed down the front and back of himself. “Ah! I can’t believe this stuff actually works.”
Alyssa found that once again she could only nod.
“You know, you don’t have to worry about violations anymore. You can do what you want; it’s just you and me. No one can tell you what to do now.”
Alyssa’s heart slammed in her chest. He was right, but still, something as taboo as washing another’s intimate area’s was not forgiven. “I know… It’s just—”
“It’s a big change. Enjoy yourself. Do what you want, when you want. You’re a free person.”
Alyssa released a pent-up breath and nodded. He was right. She could finally live without fear of being recycled.
“So, would you like me to spray you now?”
32
With a small nod, Alyssa turned away and held out her arms. Brock tried to mimic what she had done and keep the aerosol about an arm’s length from her body as he sprayed. He went over her hair a few times. The spray coated her in a light dew, then it dried up, leaving her hair as silky and soft as before. He longed to stroke his fingers through it and tangle the strands in his fist, but he kept spraying, taking his time to enjoy. Sure, this was a very convenient way to get clean, but he couldn’t help thinking how much more satisfying it would be if he were bathing with her in the traditional way.
He circled her, spraying her slim body. He loved her narrow hips and the distinctive curve of her collarbone beneath her smooth, creamy skin. He longed to trail his tongue from her chest to her navel and watch her gasp in pleasure. He must have lingered because Alyssa shifted awkwardly and held out her hand.
“I, um, can get it from here.”
“You sure? You want me to?” Gods, he hoped so.
Alyssa’s eyes overtook her face and she quickly snatched the can from him. “No, no, it’s okay. I’ll get it.” He took satisfaction in the squeak of her voice. At least she was as affected by him as he was of her. That was a bonus.
She shyly turned around as she lifted her bra. His mouth dried up and he swallowed desperately. He tried to be a gentleman, but even the finest of gentlemen wouldn’t be able to take their gaze off the sight of a goddess bathing in front of him, even if it was from a can.
“Who is going to do me?” Bixom asked.
Brock growled and whipped around to face the other man. Bixom leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, a smirk dimpling his cheeks. Hilians had to be the biggest cock-blocks in the whole damn universe.
“I can get your back,” Alyssa offered.
Brock held out his hand, blocking Alyssa’s forward motion. He snatched the can from her—a little harder than intended—and tossed it to Bixom.
“I’m sure you can manage,” Brock nearly snarled.
Bixom caught it, his grin growing by the second. “Rude.”
Brock growled and Bixom turned to leave with a laugh.
Brock pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to face Alyssa. “So, er… I guess it’s time for bed.”
“I don’t want to sleep, I’m not really tired.”
Brock scratched his beard. “Okay, what do you want to do?”
“Er…” She touched her pointer to her lip. “I don’t know.”
“Sure you do. Think about it for a minute. What do you want to do?”
“Well, I could trim your beard.”
Brock’s eyes widened.
“It… um… looks a bit overgrown is all.”
“Uh… I’m sure it is. I haven’t shaved in a while.”
“I found a pair of scissors that I was going to use to cut the wires. They may not be the best, but you look uncomfortable.”
Brock shrugged. “It’s just hot and itchy.”
Alyssa smiled. “Let me grab them.”
Brock watched her scurry to her pile of tools and rummage through until she found her scissors. What was with her? Trim his beard? He brought his hand up to stroke the thick curls. Sure, they were unruly and he wanted nothing more than to have it trimmed, but he had never allowed anyone to do it. Anytime Lily would offer, he would snatch the scissors from her before she could botch him up. Alyssa was a mechanic, not a hair dresser, and she didn’t exactly scream skilled in the hair-cutting arena.
Alyssa approached him with wide green eyes and his resistance melted away. Who could deny a goddess in her underwear with those beautiful lips?
“You don’t have to, I can do it.”
“You asked me what I want to do, and this is what I want to do.”
The muscles in Brock’s thighs tensed and heat began building between them. He liked it when she was bossy.
Brock swallowed the lump in his throat. “Um… okay. Let me just sit down.” He sat cross-legged and leaned against the wall. Dim light basked the room in a dull golden glow that kissed Alyssa’s pale skin.
Alyssa knelt in front of Brock and studied him for a moment. She combed her fingers through his beard and scissored the extra hair between her fingers, then cut it off. She quirked her lips to the side and studied her handiwork for a moment before repeating the task. She edged closer until her knees touched his and her soft hands stroked his face in between cuts.
“What is it like outside of here?” she asked.
“What do you mean outside of here?”
“Like, what are other worlds like?” She scooted closer and went back to work as she waited for his response.
Her closeness brought her chest directly within eyesight and, despite his intentions, he found himself fixated on the soft swells of her breasts. “That’s a tough question. Each world is different.”
“Which is your favorite? What was it like traveling with your team?”
Brock’s heart throbbed. His team. Was everyone okay? Where were they? “Traveling with my friends was always an adventure. Sometimes it was happy, sometimes sad. Like when Sara’s home was Harvested by Golan and there was nothing I could do. I wanted to hold her and never let her go, to erase the memory from her mind, but I was useless. She was like a little sister to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Alyssa murmured. “You said she was like a little sister? What happened?”
A tear escaped his eye with the painful memory. “She was killed during a mission.” He couldn’t bring himself to give specifics. It brought up too much—Vincent’s betrayal, the horrible ice creatures, Lily racing to her friend only to be too late, his heart ached for her too. No doubt Lily believed it was her fault.
Silence lingered between the two,
allowing Brock to be alone with his thoughts. Alyssa smoothed her hand over his face, the gesture reassuring and soothing.
When he finally looked up at her she gave him a small smile. “But it was happy sometimes too, right?”
Brock forced himself to smile back. “Yeah, well, as happy as war can be, but we always made time to have fun. Sometimes we would take a little detour and do some shopping or celebrate a reldora.”
“Your date of birth?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes it was other people’s reldora.”
Alyssa trimmed a flyaway then smoothed the area down.
“Where do you want to go once we get out of here?” Brock asked, trying to distract himself from Alyssa’s affections.
She bit her lush lip in thought. “I don’t know. I want to see some things though. Go places. See other worlds. I think that would be fun.”
Brock smiled. “It is.”
Alyssa leaned back and studied her handiwork with a slight tilt of her head. Her blue-black hair cascaded over her shoulder, slipping past her collar bone.
“How’s it looking?”
“Good.”
Brock brought his hands up to rub over his beard. It already felt cooler and less itchy and, by the feel of it, it was cut clean to his face. He had to admit—although he didn’t have a mirror to prove it, so this was all just speculation—Alyssa did a pretty damn good job.
“Well, who woulda thought you were a hair dresser?”
Alyssa beamed. “Maybe that’ll be my career when I get out of here. No more mechanical work, I’ll trim beards.”
“Don’t throw your mechanic skills away; that’s a high-paying profession. There’s a lot more ships than unruly beards out there.”
Alyssa giggled. “We’ll see.”
Brock took the scissors from her and set them aside. He wrapped his arm around Alyssa and pulled her to him. A surprised squeal slipped from between her lips. In one movement, Brock hoisted himself to his feet with Alyssa cradled in his arm. Her arms circled around his neck to steady herself.
Brock grinned down at her. “Lights out, baby, we have to get some sleep before Bixom comes to get us for our watch.”
Before she could protest, he laid her on the pile of blankets. “Good night, baby, I’d say you need your beauty sleep, but you couldn’t get any more beautiful. So get some rest. I lo… er…” Brock cleared his throat and quickly looked away before she could see his face. Holy shit! Where was I going with that one?
“Well… see you tomorrow.” He pulled the curtain away from the wall and was about to duck to the other side, cursing himself for acting like an awkward adolescent, when Alyssa stopped him with a call of his name.
“Brock… Where are you going?”
He glanced back over his shoulder. “I’m going to bed.”
“But there’s only one set of blankets. Where are you going to sleep?”
“I’ll just sleep on the floor. It’s no big deal.”
“Yeah it is. There’s no need for that. There’s enough room for both of us.”
Brock’s muscles tensed and he found himself dropping the curtain. “I really shouldn’t.” But oh, he wanted to.
“Yes you should.” She patted the blankets next to her and lay on her side, accentuating the curve of her hips. “It’s no big deal.”
Not the type to be rude, Brock accepted her invitation and lowered himself next to Alyssa. The lights in the hut were still on, the golden glow accentuating Alyssa’s sexuality better than any candle could. He settled onto his side and faced his goddess. He debated pulling a blanket over himself to at least put some sort of barrier between his skin and hers, but it was too damn hot.
Alyssa nuzzled closer to him. “Can we kiss again?”
“Baby, you never need to ask to kiss me.”
She hesitated then stretched out to press her lips to his. Brock allowed her to explore, to taste, to move against his mouth and discover for herself what she liked. She nipped his bottom lip and flicked her tongue over the sensual attack, and Brock’s restraint dissolved.
He closed the distance between them, crushing his mouth to hers and delighting in her velvety smoothness. She readily opened for him and he delved in, satisfying his hunger. She tasted of blossoms and spice, of fire and rich decadence, of everything he craved.
Her hands rested on his chest. Her slender fingers slowly brushed over his skin, to explore. To discover. All the while creating streams of fire and waves of desire that threatened to drown him. Innocently, she moved her hands lower and lower. Flicking over his abs, his navel, his hips. Then she flitted away shyly.
Brock rotated, trapping her beneath him, and once again cursed the inconvenience of only one arm. He needed both to show her as much pleasure as he could, but he was determined to make up for it elsewhere. His hunger was nowhere near quenched.
Alyssa looked up at him beneath long lashes that masked the desire that stirred beneath, but he wasn’t mistaking what he saw in her eyes. Once again bringing his lips to her skin, he brushed kisses down her neck, grazing his teeth down the delicate slope until she gasped and her nails dug into his shoulders. Then he dropped lower, daring to show her how much he cared, how much he wanted her.
He tried for a moment to take off her bra, but doing so with one hand while pressing his lips to her flesh was next to impossible, so he rose up so that he was kneeling above her and looked down at her beauty.
“Can I?” he asked, hoping to the gods she gave him permission. He had never asked to remove undergarments before, but Alyssa was precious and fragile and he wasn’t going to take any chances.
“My bra?”
Brock could only nod. His words had dried up.
“Why? It’s indecent to expose…”
“Because I want to see all of you, every last bit.”
“Even… down there?”
Brock sucked in a deep breath. “Especially down there.”
“Oh… okay.” She arched her back and reached around, unclasped her bra, and pulled it away from her satin skin.
He found he couldn’t breathe. She was perfection. Her were breasts flawless and nipples hard, drawing him in for a feel. He obliged and reached down to fit his hand over her breast to rub and roll her nipple between his fingers. Only when she squirmed and gasped did he move to the next.
His lips closed around her breast and she arched with surprise, her fingers tangling in his hair. He gave her a teasing nip and eased the sting with a swirl of his tongue. Then he dropped his kisses and slowly made his way down her flat stomach and slim hips, taking his time, though he wanted to go straight for the prize. When he got to her underwear, he slipped a kiss beneath the band and then once again raised himself above his goddess and stared at her flushed skin.
“Alyssa,” he managed in a rasp. “Now I want you to take off your underwear.”
Alyssa bit her lip, but nodded quickly. She sat up and slowly slipped her panties down her long slender legs. Brock’s gaze followed their progress until Alyssa set them aside. She looked up at him expectantly, waiting for his next instructions.
He took his time taking in her image. Her pale skin and dark black hair. Streaks of blue ran through the strands when the light hit them just right, reminding him of the hues of the midnight sky.
He committed every inch of her to memory so he could forever envision her. When his gaze reached her naval his mouth watered with just the thought of what she would taste like. Her sex was bare except for a short, thin trail of black hair down the center.
He looked up and found Alyssa’s emerald eyes staring at him. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.
“Beautiful… what is it you find beautiful?”
Brock hesitated. Most women accepted the compliment, but he found it entirely more erotic to have to give specifics. But where would he even start? The list was too long. Everything about the damn woman was beautiful.
“Your hair,” he murmured, taking the silky strands between his fingers. “And your ski
n.” He trailed his hand down over her collar bone. “Everything is beautiful. The way you’re happy even if the situation sucks and the way you always want to know more. Everything about you is beautiful.”
A blush painted Alyssa’s face. “Even… there?”
It took Brock a moment to realize what she meant by there, but when he did he nearly laughed. How could she think she was anything but beautiful there? Her breasts were small but so perfect he could hardly keep his eyes off them, and her pussy… he didn’t even have the words.
“You are absolutely gorgeous.” He ran his thumb over the strip of hair between her legs. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting you to have a landing strip.”
“A landing strip?” Her eyes never strayed from his hand and her teeth nibbled at her lip.
“That’s what it’s called when you leave only an enticing little strip behind.”
“Oh… Well, too much hair is considered unhygienic, but it’s recommended that you leave a little behind, but not so much as to cause excess moisture—”
Brock kissed her, mostly because he couldn’t stand talking any longer, but also because she was dangerously close to killing the mood and he wasn’t ready to go to bed just yet, not until he showed her how good he could make her feel.
“So, baby, would you allow me to put my lips between your legs, like I did with the rest of your body?”
He watched, waiting for her response. Her lids narrowed and breath hitched.
“If… if you want to…”
“I could want nothing more.”
With that, he spread her legs so that they rested on each side of his shoulders. Just the sight of her almost had him finding his own release. He delved in and kissed her, licked and teased, showing her how good two people could be. He hoped it would be enough to convince her to stay with him, even when they got off this hell hole.
Alyssa’s soft moans drowned him and her sweetness consumed him. The only way he kept himself from going crazy was listening to her encouragements. She bucked against him and cried out. Her own hands found her breasts and she massaged them for his viewing pleasure. Her orgasm hit her by surprise and her body jolted. His name left her lips as he lapped up her pleasure, knowing he would never quite get enough.