"My condition doesn't stop me from making love, Gabriel.” She flicked his still rigid cock with a playful finger. “Does yours?"
With a growled response, Gabe grabbed her and ripped at the flimsy blouse, baring her completely to his hungry sight. He meant to go slow, but he felt driven. Those wonderful breasts were bigger, the circles of her nipples wider, darker, more enticing. Gabriel rubbed his face against them then pulled her heated skin against his naked chest. Satiny smooth, her skin felt so much like the silk he tore from her.
"I'll get you new clothes tomorrow, sweetheart, I promise.” He barely restrained himself, kissing her mouth, her neck, all the way down to her nipples. Hastily, he pushed the pieces of clothing past her waist. He hurried, urged on by her moans, tantalized by her unspoken feelings. Her fingers tangled in his hair. With a trembling grip, he raised her, slipped the tattered garments off her hips. At the sight of her naked, Gabriel slowed, lingered, sliding his palms over her, feeling her gentle curves from breasts to thighs, remembering her heat, knowing her body inside and out as surely as he knew his own. But dreams were never as good as the real thing, especially when he held her trembling in his arms. He reacted like a hasty, untried boy again, shaking as badly as she. Gods, she was so pretty, and she smelled so good, like spring and like new life.
"Gabriel, hurry. Please,” Sol tugged at his waistband, trying to rid him of the shorts that snagged on his erection. With a grunt, Gabe wiggled them to his knees then used his right foot to take them to his ankles where he finally kicked them off. Stars, he hadn't been this clumsy since he was that untried boy.
"Slow down, Captain.” He gulped a shaky breath, wondering if he warned her or himself. “We don't have to rush."
"I don't want to give you time to change your mind."
"I won't change my mind, sweetheart. Not after all this.” Not on your life, Gabe moaned to himself, swallowing the words in the heat of her mouth. Her lips tugged at his, nearly undoing him with their demand. She scraped her teeth over his bottom lip, but Gabe refused to be hurried. He began at Sol's top and worked his way leisurely down her body until he straddled her thighs, careful of her stomach, but wanting to taste her again.
She put her hands over her bare pelvic area, barred his view. “No. I—” She shook her head.
"You let me before.” Gabe watched her familiar blush creep up her chest to her throat. He envied its path. Thank the gods, she hadn't pierced those perfect nipples with jewelry. He reached up and fanned the tip of one to a puckering point.
"I wasn't myself that night.” Her golden eyes gave no hint as to what she was thinking, but her smoldering gaze reflected the fire within. Perhaps the captain didn't really comprehend that in the full joy of their mating she had flooded his awareness. Gabe had felt everything she did. He wouldn't tell her. Knowing the little he knew of Sol, she'd take it as an invasion of her privacy.
"Oh, I think you were yourself, Sol. Maybe for the first time in a long time, but you were yourself, a passionate, demanding woman instead of a cold, calculating captain. Be her again. Be the passionate one again ... for me.” Gabe blinked an irritating mist from his eyes.
Slowly, her hands fell away. Sol turned her head to the side and avoided his gaze.
Gabe refused to let her off so easy. “Look at me, Captain, while I pleasure you again, like that night under the Dome."
He bent to her and kissed the warmth of her bare vulva. She shivered. The heat and the salty taste of her moist sex filled his nostrils, hardened his balls. He gently raised her hips, his words of love lost in the kiss he crushed against her flesh. She moaned, tossed her head. And again Gabe thrilled at the sound of his name whispered on her lips. Lost, he was so very lost in all of her; all of her emotions lay so bare to him.
Sol rolled and thrashed beneath his mouth until, finally, Gabe gave in to her wishes ... and to his own. She wanted him inside her, filling her, and he was only too happy to oblige. He lay on his side and, with his hands on her hips he gently drew Sol over his erection. The long, slow slide into her silken heat was an agony Gabe relished. Each second, each movement, became a sensation to last a lifetime. Time grew still and yet moved too fast. All too soon Sol's cry of release echoed his groan. Never had he waited so long, and never had it felt so good, so right so—permanent?
Gabe's mind thankfully blanked for the first time in weeks. Deprived rest caught up with him. The commander's last coherent thought was that he would never let Sol go. He wanted her and their child. And he knew the captain wanted him. He could read that much in her veiled, drowsy thoughts.
Gabriel Merriweather cursed himself royally, then he cursed Sol to perdition, when he later awakened to an empty bed.
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Chapter Ten
"Think he'll find us here?” Sol stretched her arms above her head and yawned in the midday light. A long nap in the wealthy plunder of Dante's hidden smuggler's den was just what she'd needed after a heavy night of lovemaking with Gabriel Merriweather. After said night, she arose like a thief, hastily dressed in the torn rags of her clothing, already missing Gabe's warmth before she slipped out of the room. But she had watched the commander for a long time as he slept so innocently, his low breaths raising his naked chest up and down. His long lashes spread over his strong cheeks like dark fans. Asleep, the man didn't present such a looming presence, but he still exuded a quiet sense of strength and protection. Just why did she feel so secure and comforted lying closely snuggled against his side? It couldn't be love. Sol didn't like or want the responsibility of caring for someone so deeply—but, damn it, she was no closer to knowing how she felt about the commander or what she was going to do about him. To say she was confused was a colossal understatement.
Just before dawn, Gellico had whisked Sol away to this sanctuary with only a few choice words about lovesick idiots. Sol had slept like the dead for hours. Now, she moved down gingerly from the bales of illegal imports—the gold and silver tissue-thin fabrics and the rolls of micro-fiber that so much of the galaxy used for its armor-like durability. The fortune of plunder made the softest of beds, but Sol groaned, feeling the sweet soreness from Gabriel Merriweather's slow-ride loving. She didn't know whether to smile or frown. Just like she didn't know what she wanted anymore. The commander was an enigma—strong and powerful but sensitive and giving—an empath and a damned Chakkra half-breed, for gods’ sake. Sol knew about his tainted bloodlines and didn't care. Hell, she too carried Chakkra blood from some obscure ancestor. So what? But the empathy talent wasn't noted in his public files. It should have shown up and probably did in his guarded military listing which would show his Guild registration. How had she missed that? She should have known why he knew just where to touch her to bring the most joy. The rat bastard must surely feel everything she did.
For a moment Sol's temper flared at the thought of the commander being inside her head, but she dispelled the useless anger. It was too late to worry about an invasion of her privacy. After all they had done to each other, Gabriel Merriweather knew her better than anyone, and he certainly hadn't hidden the markings on his arm or his chest. Not once. Any idiot knew what they meant. Idiot-with-hopped-up-hormones Sol just hadn't paid attention. And no wonder the commander gave so much of himself to his job. He had to take the loss of life personally when a treaty failed. And as for meeting the survivors of a war—Sol shuddered at what torment he must feel. Perhaps she should forgive him for costing her Icarus's command—then again, perhaps not. The loss of her ship still caused a hollow ache inside her. With a start, she realized that Gelli had been speaking and was waiting for an answer, looking at Sol with a puzzled frown.
"I'm sorry Gelli. What did you just say?"
Gellico answered with a soft “I said, no, they won't find us here.” She lost her frown and went back to whittling on a piece of brazor wood. In her skillful hands, the razor sharp knife flickered back and forth with the delicacy of a hummingbird on a flower, a very large, sharp hummingbird on v
ery soft wood. Long shaving curls fell to the floor. “No one knows about this place except me, Dante, and Punch. I won't talk, and neither of them had better.” A faint, wicked expression lifted the corner of Gelli's full lips.
Sol shuddered, suddenly struck by how much her friend looked like a lusty pirate, especially with the long blade in her hand coupled with her current wild style of dressing in loose, silken shirts and tight leather pants. Even one shell-like, curved ear glowed with a large diamond while the other sported a thick round hoop of gold, just like the pirates from ancient legends. Gelli's smooth ebony jaw flashed with a flexed muscle bunching the smooth planes of her face. Sol frowned at her. “Gelli, I know that Dante probably won't talk since he'd lose a fortune in your shared profits, but how can you be sure Punch won't spill his guts?"
"Because he loves me. And I told him not to tell.” Gellico looked up and gave that sideways grin that dimpled her cheek. The look softened the chiseled sharpness of her features. The tight muscle relaxed. “He likes keeping our little secrets. It's something we share. Punch likes secrets and sharing."
Sol wasn't sure about that relationship but decided not to ask about it further. Rigelians were rumored to have special sexual abilities, too, but Sol had never dealt with gossip. Instead she said, “Why do you call him Punch? Most Rigelians I know carry familial names."
Gellico opened her mouth, but only silent laughter came out. Her broad shoulders shook with the suppressed emotion. She tried again, then waved her stick and said, “Just a minute. I'll tell you, dear, but give me a minute.” After a few moments, she sucked in a deep breath and stood, brushing the thin shavings from her lap. “Ever offer a Rigelian fruit juice? No?” She shook her head at Sol's shrug. “Well, don't. They can't handle the stuff, at least the ones from Rigel Two can't. The first time I met Punch, he was flat out wasted. Some S.O.B.s had rolled him in the back alleys of Faro's. Big guy like him and he was totally blitzed. I had to drag him all the way to the meds, and whenever I asked him what he'd been drinking, he'd just say ‘Punch’ over and over.” Her dark eyes narrowed with an angry gleam in their depths. “The guys who rolled him knew what the juice would do to him. They got a whole night's receipts, and the asshole that runs Faro's fired Punch.” She gave a one-shouldered shrug, and on Gellico, the gesture became an elegant dancer's movement. “I got him work here at Dante's Circus. End of story."
Not quite. Sol bet the muggers didn't live to tell the tale. Gellico was ever protective of the needy. She cleared her throat then nodded toward the ceiling. “Think they've left yet?"
"No.” Gellico frowned sourly. The wrinkle lay heavy between her shapely brows. “That damned man has torn Dante's apart looking for you. Now, he's starting over. What did you do to him? No.” She raised her hand, long fingers spread in a stop sign. “Don't answer that. It's bad enough that you're sporting sucker marks like some juvie, I don't need all the gory details.” She contorted her face, wrinkled her nose and gave an exaggerated shudder that shook her long frame.
"Ah, come on, Gelli, I've seen you wear worse,” Sol sputtered. Her face felt hot, and her hand stole up to self-consciously cover her neck. Her abraded skin burned under her blush. In their heightened sexual coupling Sol couldn't remember when Gabe sucked the hickey there, but she vaguely thought that she had returned the favor.
"Yeah, well, at the time, I happened to be in love with the female I let bite me.” Gelli's gaze still drilled Sol. Suspicion lingered there in the liquid darkness. “Are you in love with the commander, Sol?” One elegant brow arched.
"Hell, no!” Sol snorted. “Believe me, Gelli; I don't even know what real love is.” Her heart skipped a beat. Didn't she? She touched her stomach. The touch became a lingering, circling motion. She couldn't help the smile that curved her mouth. “At least, I never knew before now.” Her blurred gaze met Gellico's. “Oh, Gelli, this is the most special thing that's ever happened to me. For so many years, I've fought so many battles and watched so many good friends die.
"Until Te’ talked to me about having my own child, I didn't see a reason for going on after they forced me to retire and I lost my command.” Her hand made more soothing paths over the mound of her middle. Sol's gaze widened. With a start, she realized that she not only glad to be carrying a child—she was also glad that the child was Gabriel Merriweather's. Glad? Hell, she was ecstatic. Wonder of wonders.
Sol lifted her head. “Now I know things aren't so bad. I'm beginning to understand the real meaning of love. Maybe I do love the Commander ... at least for what he's given me.” When Gellico's features became stark and hurt creased her face, Sol gave her a quick hug and said, “I didn't mean that I don't love you, Gelli. You know you've had my friendship and my love from the beginning, but this is different."
Gellico nodded a bit stiffl,but genuine warmth echoed in her voice when she said, “I'm glad you're happy, Sol. If you are, then I am, too.” Gelli cleared her throat, dread obvious in her gaze.
"What?” Sol couldn't help her exasperated sigh when he friend glanced guiltiliy away. “What is it, Gelli?"
"I ... uh ... heard some of the commander's men talking last night while I was having a drink in the bar.” Gellico looked at her, reluctance obvious in her expression. “I hate talking about this. I even considered not telling you, but we've never, in all the years we've known each other, kept secrets.” Sol was glad Gelli didn't notice her flinch. Her friend continued speaking, her gaze on the floor. “I decided that you'd find out soon enough, anyway.” She raised her head and looked Sol in the eye. “The Diplomatic Corps is being sent to Hydra,” Gellico stated flatly.
Sol felt the blood leave her face. Blackness threatened with the loss of her breath. She folded at the waist like a child's paper doll, but Gelli caught her easily. She laid Sol back against the plundered cloth bales. “Damn it! Listen, Sol.” She patted Sol's cheeks and grinned when Sol finally slapped her hand away. “It's not as bad as it seems. Talk is that the convicts want a peaceful settlement. They say, after the ... uh ... rescue on Hydra, the main killers were eliminated, and a new leader elected who has united most of the men. They've colonized Hydra ... formed something other than a prison planet. I guess they want to establish Colony Rights with the Guild. You know that sending new prisoners there ceased long ago."
Sol felt a tingling in her face and realized that her thinking was improving. She was making sense out of Gelli's words. With an exasperated puff, she pulled her self up and noted how Gellico drew in a relieved breath. Despite her near faint, Sol's voice was steely. “Colonize hell. Talk like that is cheap, Gelli, and you know it. We've both heard those lies before. Who told you this?” Sol stood with her legs braced wide apart. She knew her mounded belly was at odds with her fierce determination. She'd get to the bottom of this.
Gelli finally answered. “I told you, Sol. Last night, I overheard some of Merriweather's Marines talking at the bar. They didn't know who I was, and were just gabbing about being sent to the prison planet, like it was some big adventure. "Yep, gonna kick us some convict ass.” She mimicked in a deepened voice then she shrugged. “Dumb shits deserve everything they get if they go there."
Sol brushed past Gellico, muttering. “I've got to warn the commander. Gabriel can't go to Hydra. He can't possibly do anything with those animals."
Gellico grabbed her arm. “You're too late, Sol. Listen. The commander's ship is leaving."
Both felt the deep vibrations of a ship's liftoff through the wooden boards of the hidden shelter. Dust rained down from the overhead rafters. They were close enough to the docks to feel the afterburners’ rumblings of starships’ liftoffs and landing activities.
"I've got to go after him.” Sol started for the stairs only to have Gellico grab her arm and spin her back.
"You can't go in your condition, Sol! Short flights out here in the Straits are one thing, but you know you can't go to Delta Three. It's too dangerous to you now.” Gellico lowered her voice. “Think of the baby. You can't risk it, Sol."
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Sol's eyes filled with moisture. She blinked it away before she gripped Gellico's forearms. “Then you go to Delta Three and convince Gabriel that he can't go to Hydra. Tell him whatever you have to, Gelli. Please. Keep the commander away from there—keep him safe—for me."
Gellico's face turned a muddy brown, her eyes dulled.
Long seconds ticked by. Sol's heartbeat counted each one. Sweat dripped down her back. Nausea threatened again. She knew what she asked of Gellico, but she couldn't let Gabriel go to Hydra. He'd be killed by those animals. And the thought of that place made her blood run cold. Prison, my ass, it was hell. Healthy color finally came back to Gelli's dark skin. Sol sighed with relief.
"All right, Sol, I'll go.” Gellico's strained gaze reflected such desolation that Sol nearly reached out to her. Instead, Gelli moved back out of her reach and nodded. “You lost your commission and the lives of your crew on Hydra for me. This is the least I can do for you.” Her words ran bitter, cold and flat, her lips so tight that not a hint of her teeth showed.
"Oh, Gelli, forget that I asked it of you.” Sol crossed the room and hugged Gellico as close as her expanded girth would allow. “I'm sorry. There's got to be another way. I'll find it somehow. We'll use the vid again. The commander will have to listen if we send a message.” She patted Gelli's stiff shoulder. “I know you don't want to talk about Hydra. I don't either, but I can't let Gabriel walk in there cold."
For some reason she didn't tell Gelli that the commander was a Guild empath. “I know only a little of his job—his work but I wouldn't want it.” She stepped back and searched Gellico's face. “I don't mean to hurt you, but he's important to me, Gelli. He's the father of my child."
"My sweet dear, I think he's a lot more important than just that.” Gellico grasped her shoulder. “I'll do this for you, not for him."
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