To his amazement, she slid the robe off. Plaid flannel pooled at her feet. She turned the shower on, adjusted the temperature of the water and stepped under the spray.
Someone had nailed his feet to the floor, because as hard as he tried to move away, he couldn’t. She seemed oblivious to him as she shampooed her hair. Strawberries filled the steamy air and iridescent bubbles travel along her neck, to her breasts, to the smooth curve of her belly, then down her legs.
When she took the bar of soap and began to lather it along her arms, scooping down to cup her breasts, he finally forced his feet to move.
In the wrong direction.
He walked to the cell door, unlocked it, yanked it open and strode to the shower.
She smiled; then her eyes went wide as he entered the shower fully dressed. He took the soap from her, tossed it aside, grabbed her hands, and pressed her against the gray plastic wall. Before he allowed himself to even think about what he was doing, he lowered his head and kissed her.
Water-wet lips slid across his as he pressed closer, opening her mouth with his tongue. He met her gasping sigh with his own. Urgently she pressed against him, rubbing her hips against his, making him utter a frustrated growl as he pulled away.
“What the hell am I doing?” He let go of her hands.
“Something wonderful.” She lifted her head. “Don’t stop now.”
Sliding his just-shaved face along her neck to place his mouth at her ear, he whispered, “I’m completely dressed and soaking wet.” A conservative trickle of water hit between his shoulder blades as he pressed her to the textured plastic wall of the prison shower.
“Even if I wasn’t in the shower, I’d still be soaking wet,” she whispered back.
He hissed a vulgar expletive, holding her pinned as he tried to catch his breath. Against his will, he slid his hand down her body, seeking out the hot wetness between her legs.
With mumbled encouragement, she turned her hips to the side, offering herself to him.
Another even more vulgar expletive came unbidden to his mouth as his fingers slid effortlessly over her mound, then teased across her slick folds. On the verge of moaning her name, Foster growled when one of the electronic gizmos on his belt gave out a high-pitched keening, then fizzled to silence.
Reluctantly, they broke apart.
“Damn.” He looked down at his belt then up into plaintive otherworldly eyes. Jynx looked as frustrated as he felt. This was not the ending he’d anticipated.
Forcing his attention to his equipment, he said, “Finish up. I’ve got to go see if there’s something wrong with the ship.”
Jynx couldn’t help but giggle as he squished his way across the floor. She couldn’t believe he’d come into the shower fully dressed, as if he just couldn’t wait one more second to kiss her.
A shiver ran down her back, because she also couldn’t believe she’d dropped his over-size robe, daring him like that. Freedom seemed to have gone to her head and thoroughly corrupted her. And then another thought wiped away all her giddiness—what if that squeal from his equipment indicated something was wrong with the ship? She rushed through the rest of her shower, dressed, then followed the wet footprints.
Foster was in the middle of pulling a dry blue T-shirt over his head when she entered his bedroom. She got a quick glimpse of his muscled chest, but one glance was enough. She couldn’t wait to stroke the strong planes with her fingers, smooth oil all over him, then slide her body along his to make a hot, wanton friction.
He looked up. For the life of her, she swore he knew exactly what she’d just been thinking. If he slipped a bottle of oil into her hands and told her to have at it, she wouldn’t have been surprised. Moreover, she would have eagerly complied.
“Everything okay?” She looked at the bundle of wet clothing on the floor of his spartan bedroom. Decorated in shades of blue, from the navy carpet to the pewter-blue sheets, everything was simple, basic and unquestionably masculine.
“Yeah.” He gave a wry smile and a nod to his soaked equipment belt drying out on the edge of his disheveled bed. Apparently, he’d slept no more soundly than she. “Busted my scanner, but I have another one.”
“I still can’t believe you did that.”
“Me either.” He tucked his shirt in.
“Very sexy.” She felt a giddy, nervous thrill in her belly when she looked at him.
“Sexy or stupid.”
“Sexy.”
He bit his lip, then grinned. “Are you hungry?”
“Very. We didn’t eat much last night.”
“Yeah.” He turned and walked away.
She noticed he had a habit of doing that when he wasn’t sure what to say. Not that she minded, really. Given how much time he spent alone, it was only natural. She followed him to the small galley.
“I don’t have much around, mostly stasis stuff, since I don’t cook.” He yanked open the pantry and offered her a variety of foods in see-through plastic packages. “What do you fancy today?”
“Let’s see what you’ve got.”
They debated the merits of each meal, finally settled on something and ate, trying not to stare too much at each other.
There could have been a hundred other people on the ship and she wouldn’t have noticed. She could have been eating recycled cardboard and wouldn’t have noticed. All of her attention was consumed by him.
Searching for something to say as they washed their dishes side by side at the sink, she looked up at him, and asked, “Can we play that game again?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Which one?” His voice rumbled with innuendo.
Uttering a delighted giggle, she said, “If we play the shower game again, you should take off your clothes. Or at least your belt.”
“Yeah, well, I feel naked without that on.”
“There’s a thought.” She nudged him with her hip. “But I meant the computer game.”
“See, this is how it starts.”
“Pardon me?”
“The addiction.” He nodded gravely. “Tragic, really.”
“Those games are addictive?” Actually, she did want to continue the game to find out what happened, but more than that, she wanted to spend the day in his lap. Wholeheartedly she acknowledged that addiction and couldn’t wait to indulge her craving again.
“Virtuals are terribly addictive. Lucky for you, I have about a hundred of them. You’ll be able to keep yourself entertained for a lifetime.” He dried his hands off, then handed her the towel. “Not that you should spend the rest of your life playing games. Not that that’s all I’m offering or anything. I mean, there’s lots of stuff you could do around here besides games, and—”
“You’ll hyperventilate if you don’t stop. Relax.” She pressed her finger to his lips. “It’s going to take time to work out all the details of how, exactly, this is going to work. For today, let’s just play.”
“Don’t shoot!”
But he’d spoken a second too late. A round from her blaster ripped the purple ball of tentacles apart. The alien slumped down into a quivering mass of lavender goo.
“He’s a good guy?” Jynx tossed the comment over her shoulder as she played solo in his big black chair.
“Yep. You just blew away your only hope.” He walked over to the main console. “Here, let me drive for a second.”
She climbed out of the leather pilot chair, and he threw himself down. “I’m going back to the last save and start you from there. This time, don’t shoot the purple tentacle guy. Hit that glowing green thing on the ceiling before it gets over the purple guy’s head.”
After resetting the game, he offered his chair to her.
Jynx sat down and ran the scenario again. When she shot the green glob, the alien oozed down on the purple tentacle guy, burning off limbs. She was furious when her character didn’t have any medical supplies to save him.
“Ridiculous!” She stood and glared at the game with her hands on her hips, pulling the lilac fab
ric of her dress tight against her white lace thong. “There should be something in my inventory to help—”
“You’re such a doctor.” He laughed gently as he explained again that healing injured creatures simply wasn’t an option.
“Fine,” she conceded the point irritably. “So just what did I do wrong now?”
He shook his head. “See what I mean?”
“What?”
In her blazing irritation, she’d dropped the garden-party façade, and he had to fight down a smile. “About that addiction thing?”
Jynx realized she glared at him as if her inability to triumph were his fault. She flashed him an embarrassed grimace.
“I’m so close to the last level, the answer to the whole puzzle, and it’s driving me mad that I can’t get beyond this room.” Jynx was no longer prim, proper, pardon and thank you. The game had corrupted a part of the IWOG lady right out of her. She knew it just as surely as he did. “I’m sorry I’m yelling at you over something so trivial, a game of all things. You must think I’m crazy.”
“Nope. Been there, done that. Here.” He swiveled the chair around, scooped her into his lap, then turned to the main console. “Let me show you how.”
“Watch the master in action.”
He groaned when she snuggled close. “If that’s the way you want to put it.” He liked her calling him master. “It took me six hours to get through that last door the first time I played this.” He ran the scenario, trying desperately to keep his focus on the game when all he wanted to think about was Jynx. Strawberry lingered in her hair and made him think of her all wet and naked in the shower.
Tapping rapidly, he moved their character through the maze of sharp obsidian spires. He couldn’t help but jerk and move the way his character needed to in order to sidestep the dangers and make his way to the last door.
“I like how you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Move your body the way you want to move the character.”
“Body English doesn’t actually help, but I seem to think it will.”
“Seems to work for you better than me.” Jynx pressed herself close as their character approached a huge iron door.
“And now,” he said, flipping a switch, which made his voice boom over the ship. “The final answer to the perplexing question of why you’ve worked so hard to open this door.”
Jynx squirmed with anticipation.
He made their character push the sixty-foot-tall iron door open. The hinges creaked with a rusty groan that shook the Damn You like a wet dog.
“It better be good.” She strained forward, breathless, only to slump back into him with disappointment. “It’s empty.”
Letting his voice boom, he uttered a hardy bwahahaha that gripped the ship.
“And the point?” Frustration laced her voice.
He cut the echo play on the com and philosophically said, “The moral of the story, the point, is that sometimes, the tale is never really finished.” He shrugged apologetically.
“There’s another layer to this game.” She gave a frustrated sigh and rolled her eyes.
“You catch on quick, young grasshopper.” He tapped up the holo screen, then opened up the next part of Labyrinth. “This game goes on for several planets before you even get close to the final reckoning.”
“That’s cruel.” She frowned delicately. “I should get something for all that effort.”
“You do. Watch.” He made their character enter the room, walk to the far wall, and insert a gold keycard into a slot. “Settle back, Jynx. You’ll like this.”
She curled against his chest as she kept her head centered to the main window.
Blackness, thick and heavy, covered them as slow, mystical music filled the bridge. Off in the distance loomed a spinning orb. Approaching, they fell through atmo then a vast blue ocean gave way to sand strewn beaches. They flew across the land to a thick green forest. Way far away on the horizon was a tiny triangle. They flew toward it endlessly. Ever so slowly the triangle grew into a fierce sharp thrust of black through the crust.
“It’s a gigantic volcano,” she said.
Racing up the ever angling slopes, their ship swooped in and out of nooks and crannies in the massive volcanic mountain. One ridge could hold an entire city. Falling into a crevice, they raced up to a waterfall well over two miles tall. Cascading water centered by lush green foliage and black basalt.
Jynx gasped.
In the game, their ship darted through the water, and the Damn You lurched out from under them as if millions of gallons of water actually poured over the ship.
She turned and wrapped her arms around him.
“It’s the game. Just watch.”
Casting him a wary eye, she turned her head. Their ship settled down in a cave behind the waterfall.
As their character stepped from the ship, the pounding of the water became almost deafening but eased as he went deeper into the cave.
“Now we have to work our way through this planet?” She leaned over to place her hands on the keypad.
“Yep.” He settled back to watch her play.
“Absolutely addictive.” She moved their character forward as she darted her gaze over the sensors before her. Jynx picked up how to play the virtual so fast, it was as if she’d had the skill implanted into her brain.
“I tried to tell you.”
“Not until after you hooked me with the first dose.”
“True. Still, I tried to warn you.”
“What else do you do when you’re alone out here?”
“Read. Blast music. Chomp bubblegum. Pump iron. Practice languages. Paint—well, that’s why there aren’t any other bedrooms. I’m out here by myself most of the time, so all the crew rooms are hobby rooms. That’s why we’ll have to find you a different place to bunk up. I mean, we’ll have to pick a room and clean it out so you can have a place, your own place, where you can have some privacy. There’s cameras in the cells but not in the crew quarters. I wouldn’t spy on you—”
Turning, she cut off his babbling by pressing a finger to his lips. “The cell room is fine if you’ll just stop locking me in.”
“That’s not it, Jynx.” He swallowed hard. “I’m not locking you in so much as I’m locking myself out.”
“Why? I don’t want you to.” She seemed more frustrated by him than she had been at the game. “Do you think I’m lying to you about that?”
“No. You’re interested in me. I’m interested in you. Only an idiot would doubt that. Thing is, your options are rather limited. You don’t have much of a choice. I’m probably not the guy you would pick if you had your choice.”
A light flashed. He flicked his gaze and spun sharply to the right as he held her close. He tapped the main console. First perimeter breach. He swiveled left, scanned the ship and relaxed. Pathetic 2xBasic with no upgrades.
“A woman like you, Jynx, should have a lot of choices.”
Chapter Fifteen
Jynx sat in his lap, snug and safe, then turned to the main console. “What just happened?”
“That light? First perimeter breach by a 2xBasic with no upgrades. They won’t see us until they hit the fourth perimeter.” He relayed the information to her with a confident, matter-of-fact tone.
“How far away is the first perimeter?”
“Edge of the quadrant.”
“How far is that?”
“Too far to describe. Best ship in the Void? Forty-eight hours. That thing? Don’t make me laugh.” After a chuckle, he pointed to the sensors. “That guy won’t even see us unless I want him to.”
She watched and listened as Foster pointed out the various readings. What a day ago seemed impossibly complicated began to make sense to her untrained eyes. Still, she wouldn’t want to have to even think about flying his ship. Somehow, thinking of his ship without him to pilot the craft saddened her. He’d been the ship’s pilot for so long, she had a feeling the controls would respond only to him.
“Thing is, we’re safe, and for the most part, we’re utterly alone out here. That’s why I think we should try a bit harder to just be friends because, well, it’s just us out here. Thing is, you and I—”
“If only there were a thousand men, I wouldn’t be attracted to you.”
“Something like that, I guess.”
“Throw a thousand choices in my face, and you think I’d never choose you.”
“No, just that—”
“I should have a choice.”
“Yeah.”
“I do have a choice, Mr. Nash.” She sat forward and flipped a switch, plummeting the bridge into blackness. Having observed him hitting that switch several times, she knew just what button to push. “You have a choice too.”
She stood away from him, pulled off her borrowed socks, then slipped her feet under the armrests of his chair so she could straddle his lap. Lifting her skirt so that her white lace panties pressed against the now straining bulge in his faded jeans, she sighed when they touched. In this moment, he wasn’t the triple-platinum Runner, not the man of the dangerous reputation or dubious honor, but just a man. Foster Nash. A man in the dark just as she was only a woman in the dark.
Timeless erotic need compelled her to find his ear and whisper, “Had I a thousand men to choose from, I would still pick you.” Trailing her lips down his neck, rubbing against him like an alley cat in heat, she breathed, “If you had a thousand women to choose from, would you pick me?”
When she felt him reach for the light switch, she captured his wrist. She realized her folly in trying to restrain him when her tiny fingers barely encircled half.
“Don’t. Foster, please, don’t.” She realized her aggressiveness repulsed him. “If you don’t want me, please tell me in the dark where it won’t hurt so much.”
When he didn’t move and didn’t answer, she slid up his lap with a passionate gladness for the shame-hiding dark.
Groaning low and deep in his chest, he hauled her back down by gripping her hips with his massive hands. His sudden forceful move made her whole body shiver as she crushed against him.
Runner: The Fringe, Book 3 Page 13