by S. E. Smith
Adini straightened in her seat and cast a questioning look at Taro, who nodded for her to answer. “His name is Jaeo Gant.”
Captain Jordan stiffened, thrusting out her chin. “Did you say Jaeo…?”
“Gant,” Dini repeated, rushing to add, “He’s with the Network.”
“Yes.” She spat out the word with clear contempt. “He’s no one I care to cross paths with.”
“He’s a good man, Captain Jordan.”
“No.” The skipper’s jaw muscles flared and her eyes went cold and distant. “He gets people killed.”
Dini shot Taro a worried look. Sensitive to the captain’s ire, Katrina made a jump to her former owner’s shoulder.
“Captain, I have nowhere else to turn. No one else would go head-to-head with the Alliance. He may be my only chance to save my father.”
The captain scuffed the heel of her boot against the deck, as if mentally regrouping. “I said I’d take you to Banna, and I always stand by my obligations. But I’m doing it on one condition. I don’t need this man meddling in my life. So the deal is that you never disclose how you got to Banna. Not a word. Me—my ship—we don’t exist. Do I have your promise?”
“You have it, Captain Jordan.”
The skipper’s gaze cut to Taro, and her eyes flashed like pulsebeams. “Her word had better be good, for both your sakes.”
The bite of unease hit Taro in the sternum. Was this a mistake? His instincts had let him down before, and the last thing he wanted was to draw the wrath of Dava Jordan or jeopardize his gig on Calypso. Being navigator of this exceptional ship meant a lot to him.
The captain pushed off the bulkhead. “I’ll handle flashpoint.” She indicated Adini with a jerk of her chin. “You’d best stow our passenger in your quarters and prep her, Nav.”
“Aye, Skip.” Well, this was going to be awkward.
Captain Jordan pulled a readi-meal from the chiller and stalked out of the galley.
“Prep me?” Dini questioned. “For what?”
“Flashpoint,” Taro answered gruffly.
From her perch on Adini’s shoulder, Katrina gave two soft barks.
“She doesn’t like the sound of that,” Adini said.
You’re not going to like the sound of it either.
“You sure about this? Us…sharing a cabin? I mean…Banna is two weeks away.”
Taro managed a pensive grin. “Not on this ship.”
Fear wasn’t an emotion Taro liked seeing in Dini’s eyes. Katrina picked up on her disquiet and coiled protectively around her shoulders. “So you’re telling me this flashpoint thing...it’s painful?”
He’d waited until they’d finished their meal and cleaned up the small table in his quarters before filling her in. They sat side-by-side on the bench seat under the portal. Outside Calypso, a sea of stars floated in the silent void. “Yes,” Taro confirmed. “Painful. Unpleasant. Completely disorienting.”
“Painful…how?” Dread darkened her eyes to steel gray.
“It’s different for everyone. However you perceive it, it’s going to feel like Fifth Hell. The good news is it doesn’t last long.”
She averted her eyes with a nervous tick of her mouth. “If it’s so bad, why do you do it? Why go through this…flashpoint thing?”
Her throat worked, and he took her hand, noting how it trembled. “Because it lets us get to places like Cunari Nebula in a hurry.” He slid his free hand over their clasped hands in attempt to calm her shaking. “Calypso can deploy scientific instruments in locations where astronomical events are occurring in real time. That’s our gig. Contractors pay handsomely for that kind of service, and it keeps us funded.”
“So it’s legitimate work.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Your captain is pretty secretive.”
Taro frowned. “I guess she has her reasons.”
Adini gave him a measuring look, but didn’t press her luck. “So this flashpoint, it’s like a wormhole of some sort?”
“No. Wormholes only connect two points in space. Flashpoint allows the ship to pass through another plane of space that’s more dynamic than normal space. Where huge distances can be spanned in a very short time. We can go just about anywhere.”
She reached up to stroke Katrina’s head. “How is that possible?”
“I don’t know exactly how it works,” Taro replied, cupping his hands around his knee. “It’s new technology.”
“Is Calypso the only ship that can do this?”
“Cap says there are a couple of others, but they’re very covert. No one wants the Alliance getting wind of these capabilities.”
“No. Neither would I,” Dini agreed. “How did she come by Calypso? I mean, a ship like this—”
“That’s the Cap’s business,” he quickly interjected. “I don’t ask questions. You shouldn’t either.”
“Right. Well, anyway…” Adini lowered her head. “Thank you for helping me. For being here.” She raised her face again, and her expression radiated a kaleidoscope of emotions—appreciation, apprehension, and affection all vying for facetime. “I guess I was wrong.”
“About what?”
She reached out to cradle Taro’s face in her hands, her touch sending heat spiking through his blood like a stiff shot of Tectolian whiskey. “I guess navs aren’t always leaving.”
His throat worked before he gave a hoarse reply. “Not this time.”
He covered the back of her hand where it rested on his cheek. Feelings for a woman had not come easily since Lyra ended their relationship. She’d demanded he make a choice—her or his position on Calypso. Taro had been on the verge of giving Captain Jordan his very reluctant resignation when Lyra informed him she’d found someone else—a dock worker on Banna. Someone who isn’t always leaving, she’d said, her words as sharp as Rathskian daggers. In the time it had taken for Calypso to deploy a sensor in orbit around a distant dying sun—less than a week—she’d met the man, dated him, and taken to his bed, utterly destroying Taro’s once unwavering trust in her.
And now—for reasons he couldn’t explain or understand—his heart seemed ready to trust again. And just like before, it was now on the line.
Katrina whimpered and glided from Adini’s lap to his, planting her paws on his chest to look up at him with her soft, brown eyes.
“You’re upset,” Adini said quietly. “She can sense it. What’s wrong, Taro?”
He leaned back until his spine hit the bulkhead. This isn’t the time or the place. “It can wait,” he answered.
Desire and confusion, want and fear, caution and desperation all mingled in Taro’s gaze, a look that was at once strong, vulnerable, and seductive. Adini couldn’t fight the draw. As if some powerful electromagnet controlled her, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. The warm, lingering kiss soon became something more—more potent, more passionate. More everything.
She thrust her fingers into Taro’s thick hair and drank him in deeper, giving and taking with her lips and tongue. He answered every unspoken question without words, moving closer, splaying his hand on her back to ease her prone onto the bench seat. When his mouth shifted downward to nip and kiss and tease the sensitive flesh of her neck, her heart raced and her skin heated. She reached to open the catch of his flightsuit, peeling it back to thrust her hands inside and trail her fingers down his solid chest.
A sound came from deep in Taro’s throat, half-growl, half-groan. Then he rocked back, rising quickly to his feet.
“You don’t have to turn away, Taro. Not this time.”
He angled back, looking down into her eyes a moment before slipping his leanly muscled arms beneath her shoulders and under her knees. Pulling her up tight to his chest, he carried her the few steps to his bunk.
“Are we going to…?”
“Get some sleep?” he finished. “Yes. You should rest before flashpoint. It helps.” He eased her legs back down to the deck.
“You’ll stay with me?” she as
ked.
“I’ll be right here.” He reached out to smooth the hair back from her face. “Flashpoint is nothing you want to experience alone for the first time.”
“What was it like for you…your first time?”
“Captain Jordan was with me,” he replied.
Adini physically shrank away. He’d been with the captain? She struggled to fight down the protest that welled up in her belly. Of course, why wouldn’t he have been with her? All those nights in space together. Dava Jordan was a beautiful, intelligent, desirable woman, and she must certainly find Taro more than attractive. How could she not?
“It’s not what you think,” Taro said. “I was strapped down to a flight couch and she was standing by ready to administer tranquilizers. She took care of me. She’s a good skipper. But our relationship is strictly professional.”
“So you and Captain Jordan have never—”
“No.” He gave his head a definitive shake. “Never. She’s my commanding officer…and I’m not that kind of navigator.” He gave her a crooked smile and reached out to brush his knuckles gently over her cheek. “I need to have certain feelings for a woman before I…”
She nodded to his unfinished sentence, whispering, “What if I told you I think I’m having those certain feelings myself.”
“Didn’t we both decide this wasn’t a good idea?”
“When you were leaving,” Dini answered softly.
Taro averted his eyes. “I’m still a nav, Dini. Leaving is what I do, even if it isn’t right now.”
Adini slid her hands behind his neck and looked him square in the eye. “I know. But at the moment, I don’t seem to care.”
Taro groaned. “Have mercy. I’m trying to be a gentleman, here.”
“You’re not trying.” She tilted her head. “You are a gentleman, Taro.”
“I think I’m going to need some help with that.” He dropped his gaze with a self-deprecating smile and reached down to lift the covers for her. “Sleep.” She slid between the smooth sheets and pulled the thermal blanket up to her shoulders. Katrina curled up beside her with a rough purr and licked Taro’s hand.
“She really likes you a lot.”
“Ditto,” Taro answered.
“She wants you to stay right here.”
“Maybe it would be better if I sleep on the bench.”
Adini rolled her head on the pillow. “She doesn’t want you that far away.”
Taro closed his eyes for a moment before conceding, easing down at Adini’s side on top of the covers. Katrina turned three slow circles in the space between them, scratching at the blanket before settling down to bury her nose in the fluff of her tail, ears perked and eyes bright.
“She’s protecting us,” Adini whispered to him.
“From vipers maybe.” He slid one arm beneath her shoulders. “Let’s get some sleep while we can.”
“Ouch.” Adini grimaced when a hard object pressed into her hip and shifted to her side, pulling it from her skirt pocket to turn it over gingerly in her hands. The box Brellan had given her.
“What is that?” Taro asked.
“What’s left of my possessions on Carduwa,” she said, fighting a tear that welled in her eye. At least he’d salvaged something from the cursed Ithians.
The Ithians had left her with so little. Just a metal container with contents that would fit in one hand and a desperate need to save her father.
“I’m sorry, Dini,” Taro said. Compassion filled his eyes. Concern hardened the lines of his face.
She laid the object gently on the deck beside his rack and tucked her head under Taro’s chin. She was soon lulled to slumber by the rise and fall of his chest and the sound of his heart beating against her ear.
It began as something heavy and uncomfortable in the pit of her stomach. Then the throbbing spread through her body like a raging onslaught of razors and needles. “Taro!” she gasped, jolted from sleep. Katrina chittered in distress and launched herself toward the nearest air duct. “Katrina!”
“She’ll be okay. She’s been through this.” He rose up on his elbows over her, taking her face in his hands to soothe her, his words threading through the wall of her panic. “Relax, Dini. It’s starting. You’re feeling the effects. It’s going to be okay. You’re safe. Let the sensations flow through you and out of you. Just let it flow.”
“It hurts!”
“It’s pain with no basis. There’s nothing wrong with your body. It’ll pass.”
“No!” she protested, trying to make him understand. It wasn’t okay. It was complete agony. She wrapped her hands around his wrists and clung tight, squeezing.
“I’m with you,” he whispered. “I’m here.”
She threw her arms around his neck, fear making her cling tightly. He was her only anchor to sanity. In the chaos of blades slicing through her body, his words became tangible. Mouth-watering. She could savor his voice on her tongue, taste those beefy words that dampened the seething agony. A yearning flared up inside her midsection like a karro bush bursting into fiery blossom.
Want. Craving. Uncontrollable desire.
“I need you,” she choked out.
He sucked in a breath. “It’s flashpoint. You don’t—”
“I do!”
Taro pulled her close. “It’s only the hallucination,” he muttered into her hair. “It’ll pass. Ride it out.”
Had he spoken aloud or had she heard his thoughts? She couldn’t tell in this twisted chaos that shredded her perception. Her head, and heart, and body cried out for the only thing that could save her from this purgatory.
Taro.
Adini’s focus narrowed until she saw nothing but his eyes—dark, troubled, filled with concern. She smoothed her hands down his chest and invaded the opening of his uniform to stroke and caress his fever-hot skin.
“Dini, this isn’t—”
“It is.” Her hands glided over a virile landscape—the hard planes of his chest, the rolling hills of his corded abs, and the tight plain of his stomach, and then caravanned lower…
“Dini…” A long, low groan escaped from deep in his lungs when she began to touch and stroke him. “Oh, Hades.”
She hitched in a quick breath when Taro relented, sliding his hands beneath her flowing top to explore the rises and valleys of her breasts, before closing over her nipples to deftly rub and tease. Ripples of pleasure surged through her body, pooling in a charged tingle between her thighs. A choked cry burst from her throat when he traded his fingers for his mouth.
The cutting scythes of flashpoint faded, drowned in the fever of need. Adini gave his uniform a frantic tug—wanting, needing nothing between her hands and his naked skin—sending both this flightsuit and the hipskins beneath to tangle around his knees. He swept the silky top over her head, and their bodies crashed together like the sea plundering the shore.
Taro lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her, hot, and hard, and long, working his free hand on the catch of her skirt until it released and the fabric fell away.
“We made the wrong decision on that bridge,” she panted. “We need to make it right, right now.”
His eyes blazed like embers, and his heated breath caressed her cheek. “Dini.”
“Please, Taro. Now,” she repeated, sliding her hands down to mold them to his hips. Taro bowed his head to her shoulder, pressing forward until their bodies were merged in a slow, deep thrust. She rose to meet him, joining in the exquisite dance of charge and retreat. Reveling in the rhythm of him moving inside her, battering back the sting of flashpoint and smothering agony with ecstasy.
“Oh, Hades, yes, Taro!”
He surged forward, driving faster and harder. Moving his mouth against hers, stroking her body with hands in perfect cadence with his thrusts.
Pulses of pleasure swelled and crested, building at her core until Adini could no longer contain her release, her breath escaping in a low keen while she clutched his shoulders. His guttural groan answered her in the da
rkened cabin, and his body went rigid above her, transformed to steel until the tension ebbed and his rigid muscles eased.
“Taro,” she breathed against his neck. “Don’t ever leave me.”
He swept a tangle of hair from her face. “I’m not going anywhere.”
All sensation—pleasure and pain—mellowed then faded away. They clung together, the need for closeness sapping all that was left of their strength.
A gust of wind wailed through the cabin, whistling around corners and edges. Adini gasped. Hull breach? The air was escaping?
She thrashed to disentangle herself from Taro and the blankets.
He held her in place. “It’s all right. It’s only the atmosphere shifting. It’s normal. We’re punching through.”
“It’s over?” Clarity seemed to rush back with a tangible pop. Adini blinked, staring up at Taro in confusion.
He shifted his weight to one arm, reaching with his free hand to ease her clawing hand from his shoulder. “Easy.”
“Fifth Hell,” Adini breathed, staring at his bare torso. “Haley’s Crest, did we just…?”
“We did,” Taro panted, adding, “Sorry. I never expected…”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “No. No sorries. It just…I just…”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Me too.”
Adini pulled Taro down to her, seeking sanity in his calm, and muttered a low curse.
Five
Adini watched from the forward port as Calypso approached the giant spaceport in Calos, forcing her thoughts away from the impulsive act in Taro’s bed and back to the view below.
Banna’s neutrality meant the planet was a trade haven, and this city was its beating heart, busiest spaceport in the know galaxy. Traffic filled the skies above the impressive expanse of hang rows she spied in the distance.
Even from this height, Calos was beautiful—manicured, warm, and welcoming. If only she’d come here on better terms. If only her father wasn’t in the hands of the Ithians.
She prayed Jaeo Gant would honor his obligations. Lords knew he owed Carbin Kemm more than a few favors. Just last month, her father had secured a Network shipment brought in by Captain Jagger, a hotshot Carduwan officer who’d run afoul of Ithian intelligence. When Jaeo Gant arrived to procure the booty and smuggle it off-planet, he’d been lavish with his praise to her father.