“You don’t have to defend yourself.” She gazed around the canvas. “And I’m very sorry to hear about your mother and the hardships you faced after her death.”
“Thanks. I miss her. I think about what kind of guy I’d be if she’d been around to finish raising me. I bet the social side of life would be easier. Anyway, if I’m pissing you off or being inappropriate, chances are I don’t see it. Give a guy a high sign, will ya?”
He never put himself out there for criticism. That shit chipped away at confidence. He didn’t like being corrected, a trait inherited from his father. But Annalina had a point. His immaturity and lack of social graces had held him back. He was a hell of a lot closer to forty than twenty—it would be nice to be treated with respect once in a while.
“How about this?” She presented her middle finger.
He laughed. “Perfect.”
“I have no intention of taking over for your mother, so don’t expect etiquette lessons. There might be a book out there, though. Maybe something by Miss Manners. I can see it now—Hard Lessons for Naughty Boys.”
“Good grief, look what you did.” He pointed to his erection, which pointed straight back at him after he’d done his best to stay at a respectable half-mast.
“You’re quite suggestive, aren’t you?” She set her pencil aside and emerged from behind her easel. She’d changed from her day uniform to comfortable sweats—still black, but much softer looking.
“Apparently.”
“You want a hard lesson?”
He swallowed, set down his clay, and crossed his arms—not wanting to push, deter, or distract her. She dug her fingertips into his shoulders. “Back up.”
He took a step and another until his shoulder blades hit the bathroom door. She pressed the sliding door and he stepped again. Once they were both in, she hit her knees.
Her lips encircled his cock before he could get solid footing. He threw out his arms to keep him steady, hitting the light switch in the process. The lights surged on, illuminating Annalina. Her hair shone, every color he’d already appreciated, even clearer from above.. And her mouth. He groaned. Her tongue stroked the underside of his cock on every pass she made. Only when she glided it around the tip did she ease up on the pressure.
He wanted to touch her, but she was in control of the moment. Her fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing and teasing. She twisted, just shy of causing real pain, but the new position meant she could tickle his balls.
She tickled and sucked harder.
“Holy shit.” He ground his teeth. “Babe, we need to get in the shower now, or I’m going to come in your mouth.”
He thought that would get her attention and cause her to stop, but tongue wrapped around his head again, and she scraped a nail up from his balls along his length. She retreated and licked in long strokes before raising her face toward him. Her caramel gaze locked with his. “You have a beautiful woman on her knees in front of you. I wouldn’t be here offering if I didn’t want to.”
She redoubled her efforts, deep throating him. At the same time she rolled his testicles between her fingers. He stiffened in a futile grasp for control. He’d wanted to talk her into the shower, and to share the pleasure instead of making it one sided. But, although he’d come twelve hours before, hot semen raced from his cock into her waiting mouth. She looked up as he finished, her eyes sparkling with mischief and pleasure. To add to the moment, she swallowed before pushing to her feet.
“That…that was the kind of sexy I thought happened only in the minds of guys,” Shields said, panting, struggling to steady his wobbly legs.
Annalina licked her lips and patted his chest before spinning on her heels. “I think I’ve had enough art for the evening. Thanks for posing.”
“My pleasure. Are you sure you don’t want to try out the new bench?” He fastened a towel around his hips, the fabric against his junk so much harsher than her soft mouth.
“I’ll meet you in there tomorrow, bright and early.” She waved over her shoulder. “And I’ll expect to max out the seven-minute limit.”
He gave her a small salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Nine
Mars slipped past them—or rather Annalina, in the spaceship, drifted by, taking in the splendor from afar. Red gasses swirled at the atmospheric level, but in clear spaces signs of life twinkled. Great buildings had been erected on the once lifeless planet, but she wouldn’t get to see them this time. So close, yet so far away. She’d always dreamed of going to the red planet. Shields insisted they skip the stop and she agreed with his logic. They needed nothing, were in good spirits, and making fantastic time. The other ships were continuing on as well, putting them all on course to be on the Jupiter moon in record time. Three months already on ship with five more until they’d drop off the first load necessary for a new space station. The real work waited for them there.
Still…she would’ve loved to see Mars sooner.
“It’s a planet full of dickheads.” Shields leaned on the doorframe to the kitchen area. “If you think I’m an immature jerk, you will hate the humans who claim to be Martians.”
“Why do you say that? I was under the impression they were quite advanced and put great value on etiquette. They have been quite gracious in all of my interactions with them.” She fetched two meals and measured out water for rehydration—the familiar routine a welcome distraction from staring out the porthole.
“Sure, they put on a good face.” Shields joined her in the kitchen and filled two cups with cold water. “But they are tricky fuckers. I’d rather deal with someone I can read. They say one thing, but it’s almost always a lie or means something different from what you think. Major screw factor.”
She put the meals in to cook. “Is that why we’re not stopping?” Maybe Shields wasn’t in a rush to get to the Jupiter moon. Maybe he needed to avoid Mars. She’d read his bio and experience—he’d had plenty of time to piss off people from different planets. For all she knew, he’d left a mess there.
He shrugged. She also preferred to be around people she could read, and though it had taken a few months, she felt she had him figured out. He avoided her eyes and drummed his fingers on his cup, avoiding answering.
“I left unfinished business on Mars,” he said. “I’d like to leave it that way.”
“Really?” She pulled the rehydrated and warm meals from the turbo-oven. “The biggest talker I know is going to not say something?”
He rolled his eyes and grabbed two forks before joining her at the table. “I told you they’re dicks. I told you they lie and screw people. Obviously, I was lied to and screwed and don’t want to deal with him.”
“Who is ‘him’?”
“You’re like a dog with a bone. Let it go.” He stabbed a piece of tofu.
“Did you kill someone?”
He glared at her. “Do you think they would have let me leave if I’d killed someone?”
“You didn’t answer the question. You strike me as the kind of guy who wouldn’t get caught. Eventually, it would catch up to you. Crap like that always does, but I could see you getting away at the start.”
He paused mid-bite. “I didn’t kill anyone. If you must know, one of the leaders, who happens to be a distant cousin of mine, pulled me into a racketeering scheme. James had me pegged as an easy fall guy. I was pretty excited to be on Mars and be with family, so I let it go on for too long. Then there were fucking…mobsters. Can you believe in this day and age there are mobsters?”
Her father was fascinated with the Mars mob. They were elusive and talked about in whispers. So she could believe. “What happened?”
He took another bite, only to wrinkle his nose. “I hate tofu.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll make something else next time.” She snagged the last offending piece of tofu from his tray, leaving the beans and rice. “Keep going. What happened next?”
“I ended up fighting my way out while James made off with a shit-ton of money. The
six guys who beat me up left me with a broken leg, broken arm, and that’s how my nose got jacked up.”
Such betrayal. No wonder he didn’t want to go there. She had issues with her family, but never felt like they would hurt her.
“So, I went to the medic and got fixed up. James had the nerve to stop by.”
She held her breath. This was better than a soap opera. “And you killed him?”
“I told you I didn’t kill anyone, damn it.” He softened his harsh words with a small smile. “I’m not saying I didn’t want to, but I restrained myself. Then he tried to slip me something. I attacked him and injected whatever was in the syringe into his leg. I took off right after and never heard another word from Mars.”
Annalina’s heart raced. “So…he could be dead?”
Shields shook his head, his lips twisting into a smirk. “You’re pretty fucking morbid, you know that? Besides, he’s a pretty high ranking official, so his death would have made the news. I don’t know what sort of shit storm I have waiting for me on Mars. I just know I have a mission to complete. If, after we finish on the Jup moon, you still want to visit Mars, I won’t try to stop you. At least, this way, if I am held up on there, our mission will be done.”
He returned to eating, his face toward his plate, and unreadable. Was he angry? She didn’t think so, but he was done sharing for the moment. She’d pushed him harder than she might have during their first weeks on ship. So much had changed since then. They still maintained strict rules about sex, and professionalism, but she saw him as more than a plaything or her captain. He’d grown on her.
“I understand. Thanks for telling me what happened. It’s good to know I’m not traveling with a heartless killer.”
He froze. “I’m totally heartless. Ruthless, too.”
She laughed. “Tell that to someone who hasn’t caught you purring at pictures of kittens.”
Red tinged his cheeks. “What happens on ship, stays on ship.”
She leaned across the table and looked side to side. “Do we need to pinky swear?”
He flipped her off and shoveled a forkful of beans into his mouth. “I get it. Tease all you want, but I’m serious. What we say and do…it stays here and private. You wouldn’t want me blabbing about your bathroom habits, would you?”
She snorted, but agreed. “Fair enough. Your kitty video obsession is safe with me.”
“We’re enjoying a nice meal. Let’s have some real conversation. Tell me why you got into flying.” He stood with his empty glass and reached for hers. She wondered if he realized how far he’d come in the manners department.
“I grew up as a middle child—the second girl. In my family, that meant all the hand-me-downs and inflated expectations. Don’t get me wrong. I have many, many wonderful memories and love them to pieces, but I was pretty stuck. In school, we talked about the space stations and intergalactic travel…it sounded like the opposite of being stuck.”
He set her glass down and took a seat. “Makes sense.”
“Yeah. Even when I figured out how much sitting and schooling and patience it would take, I was still all in. Flying got into my blood, and it suits me. I like it.”
“It shows. I think when someone loves what they do, it puts them at a different level from those who go through the motions. Why did you specialize in mechanics and navigation?”
“Because I have the brain for it. Even in this day and age, I was encouraged to take a more literary route with some of the other women. Amy went into languages. It’s not easier—not really—just a different set of skills. I wanted the science and real-life skills. But I wouldn’t mind knowing a few more languages.”
“You can upload them,” he offered. “I know a few. The suckers come in handy. Well, I’m glad you made the choices you have so far. They’ve made this trip a hell of a lot more interesting.”
She held up her water. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me. Thank you.”
He tapped his glass to hers. “You’re welcome. I’m not a total dick, you know.”
She would have scoffed at such a pronouncement three months ago. “I do know. You should keep reminding me, though. It helps.”
His smile was more of a smirk as they finished dinner. Shields had a way of being pleased with himself, his confidence contagious. They’d developed a routine she enjoyed. Dinner, final ship checks, art sessions, and long showers. It worked for her—the creature of habit inside her craved the normalcy. Shields hadn’t complained either.
She rinsed the dishes and put them in the sanitizer. Shields stood beside her, watching. He watched her a lot, even while she did small tasks. To be fair, she had caught herself taking in his movements more often lately.
His eyes met hers. “Annalina, I wanted—what the hell?”
The overhead lights changed from low glow to flashing red. The ship’s alarms blared. Annalina dropped the dishes and raced after Shields.
“Screen on.” Shields stood at the manual control center.
A basic diagnostic of the entire ship flickered to life, but much dimmer than it should have been. Most systems stayed green. Their left thruster icon blinked yellow. Overheating? No. The system worked perfectly. She hit the red dot in the sea of yellow and pulled up the outer cameras. Son of a bitch. The minor damage, could be from only one thing.
“Who the fuck fired at us?” Shields shouted.
Annalina only knew they needed to transfer power to main systems until she could repair the electrical panels. She grabbed her case and ran to the portside flank.
The gray panel singed her fingertips. She pulled back and blew on them before donning on her protective gloves. The last thing she needed were serious burns. She pealed the panel away and blinked against the puff of smoke. She waved it away, until the lines of wire became clear. Thank goodness. No fire inside, just heat from the processes overworking.
Unplugging the appropriate wires required a single pull thanks to Shields’ infatuation with bundling and zip ties. The blaring alarm halted, though the overhead lighting remained red. She jumped to her feet to check the hall computer. What else could be wrong after a direct hit?
The smaller version of the main unit told her she’d disconnected the correct wires, and the temperature decreased, but not enough to stop the red alert She grabbed a containment blanket from the supply closet and tucked it around the heated wires, shoving it between the panel cracks until it isolated the warmth. She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. Crisis averted.
“Annalina, what’s your status?” Shields’ voice echoed all around her.
“The heat is contained—I got to it before it could spark. The electrical panel is separated, and key systems are disconnected. No physical damage beyond this one area noted, but definitely some heat. I have it in a cooling blanket, and will reassess after a few more minutes.”
“Do you need help?”
“Nope. I’m almost finished. What’s going on?”
“Dipshit Anderson hit us with an electrical blast. Says it was an accident.”
“How the hell do you accidentally arm your blaster?” She added a second blanket and started a small fan to dissipate the smoke. “You know what? I don’t even care. Can we pull next to him, so I can kick his ass?”
“It’ll have to wait until the Jup moon. Then you can get in line. Come back to the bridge when you’re finished. No rush, but we need to document the incident and report it.”
She sat cross-legged in the middle of the hall, waiting for more smoke to clear and the heat to diminish. What the hell had Anderson been thinking? She hopped up and checked the monitor. The temperature decreased by two degrees. She tossed her gloves and rubbed her fingers. She hadn’t melted, and nothing else in the ship would if she had anything to say about it. As she made her way toward Shields, her mind teemed with reasons why Anderson would have shot them.
When Annalina reached the control center, Shields was demanding answers from Anderson. One of the head admirals shared
the communication screen. The admiral’s face was bright red, mouth in a hard, grim line. Anderson’s wide eyes and pale cheeks made him look like he could pass out at any time. “Send him home. Now,” Shields said, his voice harder than she’d ever heard.
“Captain, that’s a bit extreme. Novice navigators—”
“Shouldn’t have their own ships,” Shields snapped. “My own first mate is highly trained and educated, but even she has a lot to learn about practical application. Anderson shot our ship with a system he first primed and then positioned. He’s either the epitome of stupid or he’s a traitor. Either way, I don’t want him trailing me.”
Anderson’s face displayed an array of colors. When Shields called him stupid, he’d reddened. When he’d been called a traitor, all blood drained and his eyes narrowed. Could Shields be correct? Could the rat bastard be even more treacherous than she thought?
“Those are heavy accusations,” the admirable said. “But ones I feel need to be investigated. Captain Anderson, you will dock at Mars Colony for an evaluation before rejoining the fleet.”
“I’m not a traitor,” Anderson insisted.
“Then you are stupid,” Shields snapped. “And I’m not willing to put my crew, my ship, or myself in danger because of it.”
“Enough. Captain Anderson, reverse course and report to Mars Colony within twenty-four hours. Captain Albright, continue on course.”
Shields closed down communications as Anderson balked. Annalina might have enjoyed watching him twist, but the accusations opened many doors. Ugly ones.
Shields blew out a breath and turned. “Well. That was exciting. So, your ex—dumbass or traitor? Thoughts?”
When she and Anderson started dating, she would have laughed at either of those accusations. She still couldn’t take either seriously…and yet the facts were right there.
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