Runner: The Fringe, Book 3

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  He took a deep breath and pulled back. “You don’t owe me—”

  She kissed him to stop the ensuing babble. “Stop thinking so much and play with me. We have all this delicious freedom. Just you and me. It’s not like anyone is going to come knocking on the door.”

  He laughed as he settled back. “Someone comes knocking on my door, I’ll know at least forty-eight hours before he does.” Lifting up, pressing her back, he checked the wide scanner. “Unless he’s on that 2XBasic out there. That guy, at best, would need a miracle to get to me.”

  “There’s nothing else around us?”

  “No.” He double checked his sensors. “Nothing worth bothering with. Are you afraid of that? That there isn’t a planet with atmo close?”

  “No. Why?”

  “It freaks some people out. The first time they realize they’re alone in a very big space. In a twisted way, some get claustrophobic by the vast Void. Gotta be on-world or in a ship. Without one or the other, there’s no air. Out of almost everything else, air is the most basic of all.” Crap. He shouldn’t have said that. If it didn’t freak her out before, it might now.

  “We have plenty of air on the ship. I would think, if we didn’t, one of these lights would blink or an alarm would clang, one that would give us both heart attacks long before we could actually die from lack of air. I also imagine, looking at this array, you have enough air in reserve to get us to the nearest planet.”

  “You’re a natural.” It pleased him that the inherent danger didn’t bother her one whit. “Space isn’t so bad. You just have to figure out how to survive its hostilities.”

  “Jynx Brennan, space doctor.” She laughed, then snuggled against him. “I trust you and the ship. For the first time in my whole life, I truly feel safe. Do you remember the first time you tasted that delicious privacy?”

  “Yeah. Vividly. You were there.” He flipped a switch and turned the lights off. “In the dark.” Cradling her face, he kissed her, then trailed his lips and hands down her body. “Your voice, your body, as you rode me like a mad woman in our delicious privacy.”

  When she groaned and tried to press him deeper, he grasped her hips with huge hands that easily held her at bay. “I didn’t tell you to move.” He slid her back until just the tip of his sex held to hers. “Don’t move.”

  She gasped with frustrated excitement, but she held still.

  His fingers explored her silky flesh. She fought to hold still as he found the sensitive spots, the not obvious spots, like the area behind her knee, the backs of her arms and the almost painful sensitivity of her neck. Slow strokes of his fingers followed by his lips and nipping teeth made her groan, almost whine, like a wounded animal.

  “Foster, please.”

  “Begging. Far too close to ordering. Who’s in charge, Jynx.” He didn’t phrase it as a question. He continued to nip his teeth along her neck.

  When she hesitated in answering, he slid her back, pulling out of her entirely.

  Startled, she steadied herself by grasping his straining forearms. “You. You’re in charge. Please don’t stop.”

  “You’re on top of me, but I’m in charge?” Placing himself against her, he nudged her core with a slow rise of his hips, giving her a taste of what she wanted. “You ride me, but I’m in charge?”

  “Yes.” Her fingers dug into his forearms as she waited breathlessly for him to complete their union.

  After placing her hands on the armrests, he ordered, “Don’t move, lovely lady, don’t move.” He cupped his hand between her legs. Smoothing his palm against her mound, he slipped his middle finger inside her. She constricted, grasping his finger. When he rocked his palm, she struggled even more to remain motionless.

  “Let me move, please.”

  “Not yet.” He continued to tease her. His palm, his finger, the wicked swipe of his thumb. Darkness blinded him to what she looked liked, but he could hear her panting breath and smell the luscious scent of her body.

  Her gasps of pleasure and frustration made her sound like a wild woman trapped in the dark. When he pulled his hand away, she uttered a startled, frustrated and furious moan.

  Simultaneously, he bit her neck as he thrust himself inside her. He swallowed down her scream of startled pleasure by taking rough possession of her mouth. Through the tangle of lips and tongue, she begged him to let her move.

  “No. Not yet.” Buried in her, keeping his hips still, he turned his attention to the main console. “I want to see you this time.” He flooded the bridge with hunter green light and shadows. Sunlight through a thick coat of leaves dappled their bodies. Jynx, so close to climax, worked desperately not to move. He could see it took all her will not to say anything. Instead, she pled desperately with her gaze.

  “Freedom. A dangerous freedom.” He drew her down, pressing just the tip of his cock against her. “Privacy and trust and all things dark and dangerous.” He forced her to climax as he said, “Pleasure most of all.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Before Jynx could ride out the contractions, Foster plunged into her again. Her body reacted so soundly, so sharply, the intensity hurt. Gripping him as firmly as a fist, she wondered if she hurt him. Every bit of her flesh seemed to constrict. She rocked her hips, drawing him deeper, loving every second of riding against him.

  He stopped her by grasping her hips. “No. Not yet,” he said with a strained voice to her ear.

  Carefully, cradling her body by placing his hands against her bottom, he stood. He took a step, then realized his boxers still straddled his thighs. He shimmed them impatiently down, kicked them away, then pressed her against the wall.

  “Now you can move.”

  “I can’t.” She tried again to buck her hips against the wicked thrust of him, but her position against the wall wouldn’t allow any movement at all.

  “Too bad.” He rocked himself into her. “After all this patient waiting when I finally give you permission to move, you can’t.”

  “Foster, please.” Her trembling voice echoed the need in her shaking body.

  “What now?” he asked with a gruff whisper. “I said you could move.” He made a long and languorous lunge. “Tell me what you want now, Sweets.”

  Her head spun. “I want to feel you explode inside me. I want to watch your face when you do.”

  He rolled his hips in a seductive circle. “I want that too.”

  Twining her fingers in his hair, stroking his ears as she placed her mouth close, she plastered herself to him, and begged, “Ride me, Foster. Ride me until you scream. I want to feel you and hear you and taste you.”

  He took a deep, shuttering breath. “You’ve got to stop giving me orders, because I won’t follow them.”

  When he withdrew, she growled like a frustrated animal.

  He smiled wickedly. “You’re so close again, aren’t you? Right on that edge.”

  “Yes.” She tried to press against him, but he withdrew entirely, picked her up and placed her over his shoulder. Again, she felt like a caveman’s bride.

  “Where are we going?”

  “My bedroom.”

  “Why? The bridge was working for me.”

  “I’ve got plans for you, lovely lady.” He entered his bedroom and strode swiftly to the turquoise-colored bathroom. He turned on the shower and swept both their bodies under the spray. “I want to do things to you you’ve never even thought of.”

  Trembling, excited and a little bit afraid, she let him wash each ultrasensitive bit of her. She especially liked the attention he paid to the juncture of her thighs. Refusing to let her move, he brought her to the edge and stopped.

  “You’re starting to look a little wild, like you’re just going to haul off and attack me.”

  “You keep teasing me like this, and I might.”

  “Then I’ll have to subdue you. Maybe tie you up.”

  She closed her eyes and imagined her body bound before him so he could take his time with her. She knew they only played a sens
uous game, but it excited her to a degree she’d never thought possible. When she opened her eyes, he looked down at her with that boyish grin.

  He handed her the bar of soap. “But first you can return the favor and wash me.”

  She took her time sliding her soapy hands all over his muscular body that put Michelangelo’s David to shame. Giving him a subservient glance, she dropped to her knees to wash his legs, paying particular attention to his cock. After soaping him fully, she stood and rinsed him. She bent over as if to inspect her work and took him into her mouth.

  Her mouth was hotter than the water that rushed down his body. His hands shot out, gripping the neon-turquoise plastic walls of the shower. Fighting for control, he let her drive him insane for one more succulent moment, then placed his hand against her face.

  “That’s enough of that.” Urging her up to stand and face him, he almost lost his mind when she drew his finger to her mouth and sucked on it while looking right into his eyes. He pulled his finger away from her lovely lips.

  Coyly, she lowered her face but lifted her gaze. “So, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it.” Her hands captured and stroked him.

  He tilted her head back. “You’re the one who put me in charge of dishing it out.” He gripped her wrists and pushed her against the wall. “Remember?”

  Submitting instantly, she murmured, “Yes. I remember very well, Mr. Nash.”

  “Who’s in charge.” Not a question but a demand.

  “You.”

  Rinsing them both off, he didn’t even let her towel dry all the way before he took her to his bed. He tossed her down and towered over her as he considered her. Pewter-blue motton sheets showed off the smooth perfection of her skin. Her wet blonde hair glowed in the subdued light.

  “You look like an angel. A fallen angel. I can’t wait to corrupt the last little bit of IWOG lady right out of you.”

  “Are you expecting me to say stop?” she asked with an arched brow.

  “If you want me to.”

  Considering him, her gaze taking in every inch of him, from his fingers to his feet, then settling on the prominent thrust of his penis, she said, “Go.”

  Starting at her toes, he worked his way up, using his hands and the nipping bite of his fresh beard.

  Tossing, groaning, she softly begged him up the inside of her legs. Tormenting her, teasing her, he touched and licked and bit and nibbled every part of her body before he finally settled between her thighs.

  “Spread for me.”

  Eager to please, to be pleased, she opened her legs wide and lifted her pelvis to him.

  When he touched his tongue to her, she almost levitated off his bed. Gripping her hips, holding her down, he licked every secret place of her, whipping her into a frenzy. He brought her to the edge, then ruthlessly rubbed the sharp stubble of his chin across her clit.

  Jynx hurtled up in a screeching burst. As her body lifted, he sat up on his bent knees and pulled her forward. Settling her bottom on his thighs, he draped her legs around him as he penetrated her slowly, feeling each contraction of her building orgasm around the now insistent swelling of his cock. Never in his life had he known such a sensual partner who let him express all his needs and desires.

  He had a spectacular view of their joined bodies. Her head rocked, and her hard-hacked blonde hair twisted all around her face as she rolled her head side-to-side, lost in the madness. She was again close to that edge. He watched her cup her heavy breasts and twist her nipples hard. His moan matched hers. She slid her hands down her own body, seeking that wet heat enveloping him.

  “No.” Her hands sought that tight nub of her clit. Three good hard strokes and she’d climax, but he stopped her by grasping her wrists. “Look at me.”

  “Foster, please, I don’t think I can take anymore.” Fighting to pull her head up as she lifted her eyelids, Jynx blinked slowly, her lovely violet eyes hit his with a dazed, dreamy expression.

  One brutal thrust startled her eyes wide. “You’ll take it.”

  Something in her eyes registered, dark and deep, fully exposed to the light for the first time. “Give it to me.”

  Opening herself wide to him, Jynx couldn’t maintain eye contact when her eyes rolled back as he thrust into her again and again with forceful, almost vicious strokes. Submitting fully, willingly, she angled her body up so he could thrust even harder. Sweat covered his chest as he ground into her. Feeling the driving need for climax, anticipating hers, he took an almost scientific detachment in his own pleasure. Her gasping pleas egged him on as did the view of his body meshing with hers. Wet, slick, her tight heat entranced him, physically, visually, as he worked his way ever closer to critical mass.

  “Look at me,” he demanded.

  Enraptured, overcome, she was barely able to meet his eyes. “I’m yours, Mr. Nash. Absolutely utterly yours. Call me what you will. Take me. Finish me.”

  “You’ll take what I give.” He rammed her as a reminder.

  “Yes.” One word of capitulation hissed wicked and low as she brazenly met his gaze.

  “Anything I want.” He thrust deep, then held tight.

  “Yes.”

  “Everything I need.” He pulled back, thrusting to her again.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you trust me?” He leaned near to her face.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you love me?” He pulled back, then filled her wantonly slow and sweet.

  “Yes.”

  She didn’t even have to think. She answered automatically. Startled by her own admission, she peered up at him, utterly stunned.

  Knowing the truth, he finally succumbed. Pressing down, wrapping silken legs around him, he kissed her as he rocked against her, filling her so quickly he pushed the air from her lungs.

  “Please, look at me,” he begged.

  She did. Naked honesty, trust, passion and love shining in every bit of her otherworldly eyes. “End this torment.”

  He moved slowly, kissing her with soft nibbles as he held her gaze. “I want to look right into your eyes. I want to see your pleasure and mine reflected back. Mutual satisfaction. I want to show you that.” Peering intently into her eyes, he worked his body slowly against hers. His finger pressing and rocking and insistent. “Breathe with me.”

  Jynx matching her breathing rate to his, which increased their connection.

  Careful strokes, building fascination, finally erupted.

  Her climax compelled his. Burying his face to her neck as he lost control and succumbed, his body trembled as he sought her mouth and swore, “I’m never, ever, letting you go.”

  Utterly spent, Jynx kissed Foster as she wrapped her legs and arms around his sweat-slick body. “I have never felt so thoroughly ravished.” And so vulnerable. She’d confessed she loved him. He demanded the truth, and she’d told him without a moment’s hesitation. She hadn’t even known the truth of it herself until he’d asked.

  “Did I hurt you?” He angled himself up on his arms. “I just—”

  Kissing him to silence, she said, “I enjoyed every dark look, every thrust. Heaven help me, when you demanded I take it, I thought I was going to have an orgasm right then.”

  He chuckled and bit his bottom lip. “I still can’t believe I said that.”

  “Very sexy. Even more so than your entrance into my shower fully dressed.” She stroked the fringe of bangs back from his eyes.

  “I feel things with you I’ve never—well, I’ve felt them, but never felt free to act on them. To be aggressive like that. I’m afraid I may have gone too far.”

  In what you did or what you wanted to know? she wondered, but she said, “If you pull out whips and chains, we might have a problem, but otherwise, no.”

  He grinned as he balanced above her on his arms. “That gives me a pretty big leeway.”

  “Yes, I know.” She stroked his face. “Just like with the game, if you do something that hurts me or frightens me, I’ll ask you to stop.”

  “Oka
y.” He snuggled close and rolled so they could lie side by side. While stroking her face, he settled on the tiny scar above her right eye. “How did you get this?”

  “My brother. When we were kids, he got mad at me—I can’t remember what about—and he picked up this gigantic glass ashtray off our father’s desk and threw it at me. I ducked behind a chair. The crystal hit the edge and shattered. A sliver of it nicked my face. It bled profusely, as even the smallest head wound does, and my mother swooned to the floor when she saw me with blood all over my face. By her reaction, you would have thought my brother ripped my entire head off with a polo mallet. Horrified, my brother stood transfixed as mother demanded an ambulance and the best surgeons on Banna when soap and water would have been adequate.”

  “You could have had the scar fixed once you turned eighteen. Thirty minutes in and out the door and anyone could have a whole new face on any IWOG planet with enough money.” He was referring to the quick-stop reconstructive surgical centers that could be found in any city.

  “I know. When we went to have it stitched up, one quick swipe of instistitch, medicine became my passion. They tended to my simple wound but tended more to my hysterical mother, who was convinced I was maimed for life. They patched my silly hurt, then spent a good three hours dealing with my mother. Honestly, she lost sight of me as I followed the nurses around. Ten years old and trying to fix every hurt. My mother harped on me about that scar for years after I turned eighteen. But I never did get around to getting it fixed. It seemed so small, and truly no one noticed it but her. Not even my lovers. But you. And then—” She shook off the thought. “Well, it just never seemed that important, after.”

  “After what?” Foster curled her close, twirling her hair around his finger.

  “Roberts didn’t tell you about my family?”

  “No. Well, yes. That they were…”

  “Deceased.”

  “Yeah. The report didn’t say how. No living relatives, no living associates. It’s on your bonafides.” He stroked her hair back from her cheek. “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”