by Mel Teshco
Damn it all! She’d hoped the pilot hadn’t overheard Stokes’ earlier comments. But of course she wasn’t that lucky. Did Jarred think she had a string of lovers, male and female? That he was just one of many?
He nodded, eyes watchful. “Of course they’re not.”
She pushed her arms into the sleeves of her shirt, forcing herself to think logically. She said, “I mightn’t have been missed in the prisoner’s mess hall, but I’m certain I will be when they do headcounts at our cell.”
She’d finished dressing when Jarred climbed from his bed, totally unselfconscious—who wouldn’t be proud at such magnificence? He clasped her hands. “Would you consider making this more than a one-night stand?”
For a moment she felt light as sunshine, as though she was floating on air and all her burdens had been removed. But then something twisted inside her and the moment burst. Happily ever after didn’t exist for people like her. “You’re married,” she reminded him tightly.
His jaw tensed. His voice came out raw. “I think we’re both aware that’s very unlikely now.”
She closed her eyes to shut out all his pain. He might consider himself a widow, but he was still in love with the woman he’d married. Why else would he wear his wedding ring so close to his heart?
She forced her eyes back open. “But you’re not really single, are you? You’ll always be a married man.”
His lips whitened. She tugged her hand free and cupped one side of his face, wishing things could be different. “I’m sorry Jarred, but I’ve never been any good at playing second best.”
She might be a prisoner but she wasn’t completely without self-worth. She spun, and stalked across the room, only to pause when he asked, “Then what is it you want from me?”
Exhaling slowly, she turned back to him. “Nothing … I want nothing from you.” She managed a smile, hoping it didn’t reflect the sadness she felt. “You’ve already given me more than you know.”
Chapter Three
Jarred shook his head. Lucinda was lying to herself. They weren’t finished, not by a long shot. She knew it. He knew it. And he was damned if he was just going to let her go as though it didn’t matter.
Hatred, greed and corruption were all part of the world they’d left behind. Hope was all that kept him going most days. Hope that they were headed to a better place. Hope that things would improve. Hope that humanity would win out in the end, and that people would learn from their mistakes.
No. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet. Not if he could keep her with him even a little bit longer. He glanced at his wristwatch, which had been synched to the ship computer’s mainframe. “Dinner won’t be over for another fifteen minutes at least.”
Her eyes narrowed. He could almost see the excuses turning over in the depths of her beautiful chocolate stare. “I need to shower.”
He smiled as the tension slowly leaked out of his taut body. “Then use mine.”
Her eyes widened and she stared past him. “You have your own humidifier shower?”
He nodded and resisted a smile. Seemed he hadn’t given her much time to look around his cabin. “And I’m almost embarrassed to admit that we pilots get more than our fair quota of shower time. Feel free to wallow under the steam for a bit while I find us something to eat.”
She looked longingly at his “bathroom” facilities, her exit plan clearly forgotten. At least for the moment. “You’re sure?”
He arched a brow. “If it gives me a legitimate excuse to look at your naked body again, then I’m more than sure.”
*
Lucinda knew she shouldn’t give in to his invitation, but it had been a long time since she’d had more than twenty seconds under a humidifier that wasn’t dirty and slimy underfoot. She stripped and pinned up her hair before stepping under the showerhead.
She closed her eyes as the steam poured out. Bliss. Utter bliss.
She didn’t even mind that the pilot’s eyes were on her the entire time. Didn’t mind? Huh. She felt empowered. Beautiful and sexy.
When the steam continued to billow, she took advantage of his generosity and lathered first shampoo and then conditioner into her hair—the real Earth stuff, not the goo the scientists onboard had invented from waste products.
Her hair was squeaky clean and her skin pink when the vapor abruptly ended and a surge of hot air dried her off. A smile pulled at her mouth. “I haven’t felt this clean since … forever.”
Jarred stepped toward her, his big hands sliding up and down her sides as though he couldn’t stop himself from touching her. She could relate. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning closer to him, wanting to touch him.
“I’ve never seen a woman so beautiful,” he murmured, “and not just because you’re clean. Your smile lights up my whole damn cabin.” His thumb brushed over her bottom lip. “You should try this happy thing more often, hmm?”
Odd how sadness pressed down on her at his words. “Guess there’s not a lot to smile about these days.”
His eyes darkened. “I’d like to change that, if you’d let me.”
A lump formed in her throat even as longing tore through her. “I’m just a prisoner. You could have anyone on this ship.”
“Anyone else isn’t enough. I want only you.”
And I you.
But somehow, she couldn’t voice her thoughts. Yes, she’d had sex with him, but her emotions weren’t something she wanted exposed. Being vulnerable was never a good thing. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
His nostrils flared, reminding her of a stallion herding in a wayward mare. “Why are you fighting me on this? I know you’re attracted to me.”
She swallowed. She couldn’t deny it, couldn’t lie. But she couldn’t admit it, either.
He blew out a slow breath. When he next spoke, his voice was low and modulated. “I’ve barely even looked at another woman since Emily was taken.”
Something inside her chest withered a little. So Emily had been his wife. Knowing her name somehow made everything seem a hundred times more personal. How could she compete? His loyalty would always be with his wife. A loyalty made that much stronger by the knowledge that, though Emily was presumed dead, there was always the faint chance she might still be alive.
It was likely there would never be any closure for him. Never a goodbye.
Yet even as those thoughts ran through her head, she couldn’t help but ask, “I’m the only woman you’ve been with since … Emily?”
“Yes.”
The walls around her heart crumbled a little. She closed her eyes, blocking out the too-handsome officer who could so easily rip out her heart and stamp on it until every last ounce of her faith in humankind had bled out.
As if aware of her inner turmoil, he crouched to retrieve her clothes before standing and handing them to her. “Why don’t you get dressed? You only have a few more minutes before you have to return to your cell and I don’t want you going back with an empty belly. I’m sure your rations have been cut enough without missing out on a meal.”
She nodded and began to pull on her clothes, aware that her tiredness had all but vanished and her hunger intensified since making love to the pilot. Pinning up her hair, she asked, “You’re allowed to keep food in your cabin?”
His grin was a little lopsided, even a little guilty. “Not so much anymore.” He shrugged. “But I guess our wellbeing is important enough to warrant extra attention where possible.”
She nodded. “And I guess there aren’t too many who can fly a ship.”
“No, there aren’t, although we’re training some promising young students.”
He stepped toward her with a platter of melon. Her mouth instantly watered. Watermelon and cantaloupe glistened as though beckoning to her. She bent and inhaled the sharp, fresh scent, along with the distinct sweetness of honey.
“Honey?” she asked, incredulous.
He nodded. “Yes. They keep bees onboard for pollinating the greenhouse as well as for the
honey.”
“I haven’t eaten melon or honey since … forever,” she whispered. It sure beat the gruel she’d been expecting.
As if on cue, her belly growled. He chuckled, before selecting a wedge of watermelon and offering it to her. She leaned forward and took a bite, closing her eyes and chewing slowly as pleasure danced through her tastebuds. She sighed. Had food ever tasted this damn good?
“Have some more,” he murmured.
She didn’t even bother to open her eyes when she automatically parted her mouth to accept the next piece of watermelon, distinctly juicy and sweeter than any she’d ever tasted before.
Her teeth scraped on a seed and she automatically expelled it between her lips and caught it in her palm. At Jarred’s husky laugh her eyes slid open at last and she muttered, “I’m going to plant this seed on the new world.”
“I believe you just might do that,” he said huskily, admiration clear in his stare. “Here, have another piece of fruit,” he said, proffering a light-orange segment of cantaloupe. She opened her mouth and the flesh slid into her mouth and all but dissolved on her tongue.
OMG.
It was only when he said, “Last piece,” and popped it into her mouth, that she realized she’d eaten all his dinner. Not to mention taken all his shower time. Still, she couldn’t help but savor that last morsel before she reluctantly swallowed and said, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be so greedy.”
“Don’t be sorry.” His voice was throaty. “I could watch you eat all day.”
Her eyes went round. She’d taken so long savoring the fruit, she’d surely gone past her curfew. “Oh, crap. I better get back to my cell.”
He put down the plate and glanced at his watch. “You’re already late.”
She gasped, her belly twisting sharply. Without a doubt she’d pay for her tardiness. If Stokes heard about it he’d no doubt recommend punishment. Her pulse tripped. Dear god, what if she was sent to the Box?
She bit into her bottom lip. “I lost track of the time.”
“So did I.” Jarred tugged her close and lifted her chin with his hand. “It’s my fault. Let me take you back so I can explain to the guard.”
Tension leeched out of her muscles. His vindication would save her ass. It would also publicize exactly where she’d been and exactly what she’d been doing. She threw back her shoulders. It wasn’t as though she was the only one sleeping with a man, albeit one who was high up in the pecking order. She nodded. “Thank you.”
The walk back to her cell seemed to take a lifetime. She was aware of every second ticking past, and her every sense seemed attuned to the man striding beside her, his expression closed and brooding.
She supposed it wasn’t every day a gorgeous pilot got rejected by a woman … a prisoner at that. It probably seemed stupid to a man, but she could live with having a one-night stand with someone whose heart was already taken. What she couldn’t do was put herself in a position where rejection was her grand finale and heartache loomed just around the corner.
The pilot would return to Earth, no doubt with the glimmer of hope that his wife would be waiting. Meanwhile she’d still be a prisoner on a barely habitable planet, wishing for things she could never have.
She lifted her chin. It was definitely better this way. At least she had one delicious memory to take to bed with her every night.
“Stokes,” Jarred said in greeting.
Lucinda barely withheld a gasp. What was the despised guard doing there? It wasn’t his shift. He should be drinking at the bar and picking up his latest conquest, not doing a double shift.
“Sir.” The guard saluted but there was a distinct lack of respect in the gesture. “I’ve just finished the headcount.” His lips twisted into a sneer as he glanced at Lucinda. “I was about to report one-thirty-three’s absence.”
Jarred’s mouth tightened, but he kept his cool. “I’d consider it a favor if you kept her lateness off the report.”
Stokes appeared to grow in stature, as though having something on Jarred made him a bigger, more worthy opponent. “You’re asking me to lie to my superiors, Sir.”
“Not at all.” Jarred looked down on the toad, despite the guard’s best efforts. “I’m merely saving you the effort of extra paperwork.” His stare turned steely. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Stokes all but shuffled his feet. “Of course … Sir.”
Jarred nodded before he turned to Lucinda, the guard clearly forgotten. His brilliant eyes flashed before he bent his head and kissed her deeply.
Lucinda’s stomach curled with warmth, logic quickly evaporating at the pilot’s obvious stamp of possession. But did she even want to regain her common sense any time soon? No. Not if aloneness was all that waited for her.
Jarred pulled back, his lashes at half-mast as he brushed a thumb beneath her jawline and murmured, “I’ll see you soon.”
It wasn’t a question. She stared after him as he pivoted and strode away. Holy shit. He’d just publicly turned around her intentions to never see him again.
So why the thunderclap of relief?
“Getting a bit above yourself aren’t you, one-thirty-three?” Stokes jeered under his breath.
She didn’t bother replying as the guard opened her cell door and she stepped inside. Stokes’ words couldn’t hurt when her thoughts were all on the pilot. She pressed a hand to her tingling lips. Jarred really had stamped his ownership on her.
She should have been pissed at him. She was anything but.
Her day off tomorrow would no doubt be wasted pining for the man who’d reduced her to this needy wreck.
“Guess we’re not good enough for you anymore, then?”
Lucinda forced her mind back to the present, her stare connecting with her cellmate, Anna. She’d long suspected the buxom brunette had more than a passing interest in her, despite Anna’s active sex life.
Lucinda folded her arms and repressed the urge to tell her to go to hell. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Her other cellmate, Monique, stretched languidly on the bottom bunk—as if she hadn’t just finished a long, hard cleaning shift. She arched a dark eyebrow. “Don’t worry about Anna. She just wishes you’d look at her the way you did the scrumptious pilot.”
Anna’s eyes flashed. “Piss off, Monique. You know as well as anyone that it only takes one flick of my tongue and there’s no going back.”
Monique’s grin turned predatory. “Oh, yeah? Prove it.”
Anna immediately swung off her bed. “You also know perfectly well that I can’t resist a challenge.”
After only hours ago experiencing the best sex of her life, Lucinda couldn’t help but be drawn to what was happening in front of her. It was as if Jarred had tuned her body into the art of sex.
Anna climbed onto Monique’s bunk and leaned over her. Their mouths joined, their hands all over one another, and their moans and sighs soon filled the cell.
Lucinda closed her eyes for a moment, her pussy moistening and her mouth going dry. Damn. These two women were sexy as hell, yet all she could envision was Jarred pleasuring her all over again while her own moans filled the air.
“Lights out.”
Going by Stokes’ strangled voice, he, too was enjoying the show. Though darkness flooded the cell, there was still enough muted light in the corridor to see the women’s silhouettes.
Monique had tossed aside Anna’s prison top and her pale breasts were visible in the darkness. More clothes rustled and Monique was soon naked too, her thighs spreading wide in anticipation of Anna’s earlier promise.
Anna slithered down, her head centered over Monique’s pussy. At the ensuing sounds of sucking and slurping, Lucinda was damn near ready to join the action.
But that was exactly what the women wanted.
At a throaty groan behind her, she turned, eyes widening at the vision of Stokes, his pants at his feet and his hand rhythmically stroking his thick, stubby cock.
Lucinda turned away and stumbl
ed to her bunk, climbing under the scratchy blanket. She was in the midst of a frigging orgy. And going by the sighs and moans coming from many of the women in the other cells, they too had given into their base needs at the first sniff of sex.
She pushed a hand down her pants and touched her still wet and slippery pussy. She understood all too well. Sex was sometimes the only outlet from the dreary way of life that was all work and very little play.
Massaging her hard nub of nerves, tingles of pleasure quickly built. Within seconds she gasped, her toes curling as she peaked, then slid back to reality. She released a slow breath, aware that only the edge had been taken off her needs.
As she lay on her bunk bed, her eyes wide open and her ears finally deaf to the commotion of sex all around her, she realized the pilot had been right.
They’d see each other again soon.
No use denying it. Once wasn’t enough. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Chapter Four
Lucinda woke to the gentle snoring of the women in the cells farther along—the same women whose rosters had been synched with hers from the moment they’d left Earth.
She blinked at the strong, artificial light. Funny how her days off—one in ten—seemed to fly by, while the work days stretched ahead interminably. She usually got out of bed early and made it to a couple of different classes on that one day, filling her mind with all things Solitaire.
Not today. It seemed appropriate somehow to laze away in her bunk and daydream about the pilot, wishing for everything she couldn’t have with him.
Fucking idiot.
She blew out a slow breath. The moment she’d experienced the attraction between them she should have run a mile. Instead, she’d allowed the spark to ignite into a flame. If she wasn’t careful it would erupt into a blaze, and she’d be the one left behind, burned and broken.
She had a sinking feeling she’d already been singed.
With a glance at the two empty bunk beds in her cell, she swung out of bed. The powers that be had determined that the rosters allowed only one cellmate alone on days off. The logic was that it’d keep any problems between the prisoners at bay.