Breaking Chance

by Kim Knox

  It broke like a nightmare, her eyes shooting open onto the calm, quiet command deck of the Vitesse. Chance sucked in a deep, shaking breath, and the pounding of her heart still had her thoughts dizzying. The deep black of space surrounded them, the distant wash of stars forming intricate patterns. Air escaped her. They’d lost them. “It’s done?”

  “It is.” Ramius sounded calm, unconcerned, and she hated him. “Drew, where and when are we?”

  “We’re approaching the Trojan Asteroids, Lagrangian point L5. Thirty-four standard hours have passed.” A new confidence underlined his voice, and Chance felt his surety. Giving the ship the freedom of choice had eased his terror over using dark energy. Not something she would have done. Ramius had to be very used to enhanced Vitesse. “I recommend landing on the binary Patroclus. I need to regenerate as weapons’ fire has caused severe damage.”

  Data streamed over the shields, contracting, zeroing into an image of the dirty ice ball and its companion. A large void sat black against the spattered dirt covering the ice. “Agreed. Take us in there,” Ramius said.

  The weak vibration of the engines rumbled through the low pilot’s chair, and Chance let her thoughts flow over Drew’s, their strengthened consciousness guiding the damaged ship into the space at the heart of the caught comet.

  A final dull thunk shook the frame, proof that the ship had set down inside the void. The tendrils slicked back from her skin and Chance wiped at her forehead, her hand coming away damp with sweat. Her body sank into the soft padding of the pilot’s chair.

  “Move.” Ramius held out his hand. His gaze narrowed on her when she didn’t immediately take it. “The ship will have to shut down most of his systems. Including maintaining life support. We need to hole up in the auxiliary command.”

  “How do you know so much?” She ignored his offered hand and pushed herself out of the low seat. Touching him? Far too tempting. “Oh yes, your specialty is information.” She stretched out kinks in her spine and shoulders, ignoring Ramius’ impatient glare. He still needed her. He’d said it himself: he didn’t have an implant. “So when did you fly a Vitesse?”

  He took her arm, fingers bunching the tough fabric, and tugged her towards the open doorway. “I’m paying you to fly this ship, not to ask dangerous questions.”

  “You’re paying me with this ship.”

  The smile he turned on her was sharp, wicked, and that flare of arousal chased through her blood. The run of the rough jacket against her exposed skin sharpened the sudden pulse of need. Damn, he really was too pretty.

  “Drew has to want you.”

  Chance gave him an equally sharp smile. “He’ll want me. I’m cute.”

  His mouth thinned and his fingers flexed around her arm. He pulled her through the open doorway and into the narrow corridor beyond. “No, you’re not.”

  “I saw you looking.”

  Colour flushed under his cheeks—a strange reaction for a psychopath—but then his darkened eyes fixed on her. The intent in them dried her mouth. She had to have imagined the embarrassed burn under his skin. “You want men to look.” A door rolled open in the smooth wall, and he pushed her forward. Soft light chased around the curve of the ceiling and illuminated a basic console room, instrumentation glowing, its hum working under skin. The door slid back, a series of clunks and a long hiss securing it. He released her arm. “You’re offended when I don’t look.”

  Chance smirked at him and toyed with the fastening on the long jacket. Her head tilted. They had hours until the ship regenerated, after all. “I’m offended that you only look.”

  “Believe me, you don’t want to take it further.” Ramius turned towards another door, the dull metal drawing back as he approached. The lights in the room beyond eased over the ceiling and walls, revealing bunks, a table with chairs and the metal curve of a food processing unit.

  Chance couldn’t help herself. Her gaze trailed the length of his lean body. She would regret not stripping Ramius out of his stolen uniform and discovering the promised perfection of his body. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  He sank onto one of the lower bunks and placed the Etuis on the smooth blanket beside him. He worked the collar of his shirt loose, sliding fingers under the thick fabric to rub at his collarbone. “What do you get from sex?”

  A laugh escaped her. “Have you been chatting with my psychs?” Her palm ran over the metal counter of the food unit and it flared into life, the ordering column and service hatch humming. Her thoughts streamed over it and a mug appeared. She breathed in the sharp tang of fresh tea. “They often asked me that. Jovian morality at work.” She smirked at him over the rim of her cup before taking a sip and almost sighing. “It annoyed them that I enjoyed it.”

  His eyes narrowed and Chance had the uncomfortable feeling that he could see the thoughts in her head. She shut her implant, withdrawing all connections from the surrounding equipment. No one could hack a closed chip…though, of course, he wasn’t implanted. Chance relaxed her shoulders. She was safe.

  “They caught you more than once because of a man.”

  Chance shrugged. “They were there, I was there. I don’t waste opportunities.” She waved her mug at him. “Which brings me very nicely back to you.”

  He unstrapped the first of the guards’ guns from his thigh, strong, quick fingers working the buckles free. He didn’t look up. “That would be a bad idea.”

  She leaned back against the counter. The overhead bunk blocked the soft light and drew heavy shadows over his face. She couldn’t read him…and that unnerved her. John Ramius was an enigma. Her head tilted. “You’ve been in solitary for a year and you’re turning me down. That makes no sense.”

  He glanced up and a ghost of a smile touched his mouth. “I am registered as criminally insane.”

  Chance grinned around the rim of her cup. He’d changed the subject. “You’re not interested in women?”

  “Oh, I like women,” he murmured, and the undercurrent, the carnal promise in his voice, had her pulling in a short breath and her nipples aching. “But as I said…”

  “You have a kink?”

  Ramius snorted and his fingers paused as they unfastened the second gun. “Yes, you could say I have a kink.”

  “All right, now I’m curious.”

  He met her gaze, and the warmth of humour left her. The cold face of a killer held her, all sense—possibly pretence—of banter gone. Her heart thudded in the endless, silent seconds and, damn it, his dark side tugged at her. A light shone in his eyes, and Chance recognised the quick surge of lust, felt it echoed in her own flesh. His change was palpable. Had her curiosity sparked something in him?

  “Don’t be.”

  “Why?”

  Ramius pushed himself up and her heart gave an excited jump. She was crazy, she was, to continue to push him. He was the Butcher and she’d seen the grisly evidence of his work…but… He was closing the distance between them with predatory grace. Blood pounded in her temples and her body ached. Sex made her feel alive, and every part of her burned right then.

  Ramius took the mug from her lax fingers and put it behind her. His body blocked her and he gripped the edge of the counter, trapping her. Chance held his shadowed gaze, finding the familiar curl of lust and something else she couldn’t name. He leaned in, his mouth almost, almost, brushing her lips, and she drew in a sharp breath. “I don’t play games, Chance. I can’t.” His mouth moved and his whisper stirred the shell of her ear. She swallowed. “I’ve thought about fucking you, hard, fast, up against the nearest wall.” He paused, and in the short silence there was only the pounding of blood in her ears. “I know that’s the way you want it.” Ramius leaned in closer. “But I won’t ever do that.”

  Her fingers curled into her palms, nails digging sharp into her skin, and she held her hands tight to her breastbone. If she pushed her hands against the hardness of his chest, felt the thud of his heart, the warmth of his skin…she would have to nip at his tempting earlobe.

  H
is scent, spiced, seductive, wrapped around her. He was so tempting… Chance teased with the tip of her tongue, tasting his skin. She moaned. John Ramius tasted even better than he looked.

  “Chance…” The soft growl forced her fingers to clutch at his shirt. “Stop now, and I won’t take this further.”

  His words sounded reasonable, but she didn’t miss the need thickening his voice. A need that also spun though her blood. She nipped at his earlobe and his hiss burned her skin. “I think you will.”

  Ramius glared at her, his green eyes darkened. The slight parting of his mouth teased her. She moved before she realised, her lips covering his, tasting his bottom lip before she pressed harder and their tongues touched. The contact surged through her and, with a soft groan, Chance deepened the kiss.

  He didn’t resist…but he wasn’t playing either. Frustration pulled her back. She glared at him. “Damn it, Ramius.”

  He gave her a wicked grin, and the need to shove him back against the nearest wall rushed her. Her hands fisted the front of his shirt. Ramius glanced down before finding her gaze again. “You need to control how I react to you. But that’s not going to happen.” The shine to his eyes had her wanting to kiss him again. Hard. “No. You’re going to give your control to me.”

  Chapter Five

  “I thought you didn’t play games?”

  Ramius ignored her. “Take off your jacket.”

  Her skin burned and nervous fear sank into the pit of her stomach. No man had ever had charge of her. She decided who and when and how. She always had. She always would. The sudden surge of anger formed a fist that tightened in her chest. “No.”

  Ramius tilted his head, loosened her hands from his shirt and stepped back from her. “And that’s your final decision?” He watched her as his fingers slid down his shirt, as the material dropped over his shoulders. “No?”

  Chance’s throat ached from the words she held back. What the hell was he doing? Minutes before he’d glared at her and said sex was a very bad idea…but now he was stripping? She couldn’t help the stray glance she stole down the smooth perfection of his chest, but she lifted her chin. He was insane. “So your kink is control?”

  “Maybe.” He dropped the shirt over the nearby chair. “But you don’t want to give it to me.”

  “What’s changed your mind?” Her eyes narrowed on him, and she tried not to think about where his fingers were, how they unbuttoned the front of his trousers. “Wasn’t this supposed to be bad?”

  The heat in his gaze gripped her. “It’s too late.”

  Chance blinked. “Too late?”

  A wry smile pulled at his mouth. “I have to give you what you need.” The smile faded and something in his face spiked her heartbeat: determination. “And I will.”

  “All right, now you’re freakish.” Chance ran her fingers through her tangled hair and eased away from the counter. “How long did the ship say it would take to regenerate?”

  “Long enough.”

  His gaze speared her as his body turned. It almost seemed involuntary…but then he moved towards her and her breath caught. Ramius planted his hands on either side of her, trapping her against the smooth wall. The need for him fired in her blood, and her own fingers skimmed the front of her jacket. She pulled apart the tabs, and cool air brushed her skin. What was she doing?

  “You don’t want me to stop.”

  “No.” Chance sucked in a quick breath and tried to stop her fingers from opening the jacket all the way. But they wouldn’t obey. She shrugged and the heavy fabric dropped from her shoulders, causing a shiver to run over her exposed skin.

  Ramius’ finger traced over her bare shoulder, a slow, deliberate slide. His eyes held her…and something else. Something she didn’t know how to describe, but Chance couldn’t look away from him and she wanted everything promised in his darkened gaze.

  “Do you give control to me?”

  Fear ran hot through her veins. “Couldn’t we just…”

  “No.” His firm, quiet denial tightened her chest. He moved closer, his bared torso temptingly close to hers, so close the heat of his skin warmed her. With each shallow breath, she pulled in his rousing scent and her will to deny him faded. “You need me to do this.”

  “How could you even think…?”

  He traced the line of her strap as it dropped over her collarbone. “Take off your slip.”

  Chance followed the path of his finger and eased the thin fabric free of her shoulder. The other strap followed. She pushed the coarse material down, exposing her breasts, belly, hips to Ramius’ hungry gaze. Uncertainty had her fingers curling hard into her palms. She felt so much more than simply naked before him. “What now?”

  Ramius stepped away from her and the cooler air prickled her skin. “That bunk, there.” He pointed expectantly towards another low bed and Chance padded across the small room.

  What was she doing? She’d already had more conversation with Ramius than she’d had with most of the men in her life. Especially the ones she had sex with. Chance pinched at the bridge of her nose, still not quite believing that she was agreeing to his control. The word cramped her stomach. How could he think she needed this? For a man to take everything away from her; for her to surrender—

  “Lie down.”

  Chance stopped at the edge of the bed. Ramius dropped heavy hands on her shoulders, their heat bleeding into her cold skin. He leaned in and his lips brushed her ear. She sucked in a breath and shivered.

  “Your mind must stay quiet and still,” he murmured. “And that’s another order.”

  She blinked—she had to be wrong—and the spark in her mind brought with it a sudden rush of adrenalin. But…what the fuck? “You’re telepathic.”

  His sharp smile curved against the shell of her ear. “Maybe. Now stop thinking.”

  Chance couldn’t leave it. “But organic telepathy is a myth—”

  Ramius growled, low, deep, and her chest hitched. “Since you can’t be quiet…” He turned her and, before she could protest, his mouth covered hers.

  All thinking stopped. Completely. He was ruthless, thorough, his fingers tight in her hair and a hand snaking down her body to grip her backside. Breathing became incidental. He pressed her hard to him, her hands, arms, trapped against his chest. There was only his tongue, lips, teeth, the heat of his skin. Ramius wrapped around her thoughts, senses, and she lost herself in him.

  His satisfied moan flowed through her and the kiss melted into something terrifyingly soft and seductive. Ramius’ hold eased and her fingers and palms slid down over his chest, exploring the smooth, hot muscles, her fingertips light, teasing. Her heart thudded. Sex was fast, wild, a brilliant moment of blazing release. She didn’t do this, this…tenderness.

  Her breasts pressed against his chest and the slow, liquid fire chasing through her veins made her shift her hips against his. The rough fabric of his trousers scratched her sensitised skin and she moaned into his mouth, wanting more, wanting to find the usual rush.

  Ramius’ lips brushed her jaw, her cheek, insane little kisses until he found the shell of her ear. “I control this,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin, the soft growl searing her. “The pace, what happens. Everything. It’s what you want me to do.”

  “Why?” Her forehead fell against his arch of his throat and her lips tasted his skin. Chance closed her eyes at the need to lick, kiss and bite him that powered through her…but he wanted to go slow. She did not need this. It was killing her. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Solitary confinement does strange things to a man.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “No, I’m showing you.” He lifted her chin and his darkened eyes held her. “Now get on the bunk.”

  “Ramius…”

  A deep line formed on his forehead and the intensity of his gaze drained her words away. He eased his hands from her body, folded his arms across his chest and waited.

  Chance bit at her lip to keep her silen
ce. She glanced down and didn’t miss his erection straining the black fabric of his trousers. He wanted her. Wanted her as much as she wanted him…but he didn’t move. Chance let out a slow sigh and sank onto the bunk. She looked up at him expectantly. Ramius lifted an eyebrow and she stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Right, he wanted her to lie down.

  Feeling too self-conscious, Chance stretched out on the hard mattress. Her hands rested against her flat belly, then slipped to her sides and teased the smooth blanket. This was insane. She didn’t know what the hell to do with her hands. Nerves ate at her stomach and heat burned in her face. Panic stirred at the edge of her thoughts. “I’m not having fun,” she muttered.

  “This isn’t about fun.” His trousers dropped and he stepped out of them and the solid military boots, kicking the bundle of cloth and leather to one side. His thumbs hooked into his white shorts. “This is about what you need.”

  She wanted to snort at his statement, but his shorts had joined the pile of discarded clothes. She’d finally gotten Ramius naked and his lithe perfection, the glow of the lights over his honey-brown skin, eased away some of the panic. Her gaze followed the line of dark hair to his hard cock. “Yes.”

  Ramius laughed and ran his palm along the length of his cock. “You get this only if you’re good.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding—”

  He pushed open her thighs and knelt on the bed between her legs. Ramius filled the cramped space of the bunk, shadow lying thick across his body. His silence, regular breathing, the heat of him so near and yet not touching her, not the way she wanted, twisted through her. Curses rose, vile ones, burning her tongue. His fingers teased over her calves, playing, exploring, and the riot of unexpected sensation forced a gasp. “You deny your sensitivity,” he murmured.

  “Very deep—”

  “I didn’t say you could talk.” His thumb chased down the length of her inner thigh and she squirmed under his feather-light touch. “Now, for the final time, be quiet or I’ll stop and I will get dressed.”

  Her teeth shut with an audible snap, bravado to disguise her returning nerves. Everything showed that Ramius planned to tease and play with her. His tongue found the sensitive skin at the back of her knee and Chance jerked her hips off the bed.