by Megan Alban
“Never even gave me the chance,” he teased, pulling her right back to him. His hands settled at her hips, and he pulled them tight against his, groaning into her mouth when he captured it with his, rolling into the sweet friction of her body, feeling heat and wetness as she moved with him, rubbing against his erection maddeningly.
“Next time, don’t hesitate,” she mumbled before he caught her lip in his teeth and tugged gently. Next time.
He savored the phrase, the beauty of it in her voice, and the way it seeped through him. “Next time, I won’t,” he said, dipping his head again, wanting to taste the sweat beginning to bead along her collarbone. She gasped above him, and he gave a frustrated groan when her hips rocked forward again.
“Don’t think I can manage on my knee,” he breathed when he could speak again.
“Pretty sure I can manage from up here,” she answered, and she slipped from his grasp to slide out of her shorts.
She had to help him with his own once she’d managed hers, but he was too far gone to be embarrassed by that, especially when she settled on top of him again and he could feel her slick heat moving over his cock, sliding along its length as though preparing it for her. He swallowed hard when he realized that it was for her, that in this moment, he wanted her to think only of her pleasure.
He wished he could have seen her leading the MagnorCo thugs through the woods, in her element, rescuing him. He imagined it, though, and the image made him groan and push up to her. “Come on, honey,” he moaned, fingers back on her hips, digging in tightly. “Ride me.”
Her answer came in a near-feral growl, and she braced her hands against his shoulders, looking down at him with hunger in her gaze. “You sure?” she asked, and a laugh huffed out of him.
“Been sure since you warbled your way through Waltzing Matilda,” he said. She gave his shoulder a quick slap then clapped a hand to her mouth.
“I’m sorry! I forgot your shoulder!” she gasped, and his first response was to roll up against her once more, bringing a much more pleasant sound from her lips.
“My shoulder’s fine, Paige. Please, just...something.”
The hunger came back to her eyes, and she met Arron’s with a burning gaze as she finally lifted her hips, settling the tip of his cock just at her entrance and, without warning, dropping herself onto his hips, pulling him completely into her wet heat.
“Hopper, Yang-tse and Lovelace,” she muttered, and he was too in awe of the feel of her tight around him to laugh.
“If you say so,” he replied, letting her settle into the feeling for a moment before thrusting his hips up slowly.
She took the hint easily, her hands back on his shoulders, holding her steady as she began to move. Her hips rolled, and her thighs lifted, the motion excruciatingly slow to begin. Just when Arron was on the verge of begging for something more or ignoring his knee and rolling on top of her, she picked up her speed. He pushed himself up, then, breaking her grip on his shoulders, to capture her breast in his mouth again. He could feel the shiver he caused all the way through her body, rippling into his.
She rode him wantonly, and it was a privilege to see her enjoy herself so much, not holding anything back. It was as unguarded as she’d let him see her yet, and that was almost as good as the way she gripped his shaft as she moved.
“Fuck,” she muttered, grinding forward on his dick as her hands went to his hair, pulling his face to hers for a harsh kiss as her body tightened around him and she cried out her climax. Arron almost thought he heard it echo off the sides of the valley.
She clung to him then, but her hips still moved, trembling with each roll as he thrust hard into her once, twice, and then spilled himself with a deep groan.
Her aftershocks shook through him drawing more pleasure from him, until she collapsed next to him, her head resting on the pillow next to his. He took her in his arms and for a few moments until he fell deep into sleep, he felt nothing but gratitude and peace. He felt no pain.
…
They both slept through the night. When Paige woke up she climbed slowly out of bed and started some caf-drip and set to work making some oats.
Arron woke and pulled on some nightclothes that Paige had left for him on the stand next to the bunks. Paige was sitting at the table drinking her caf-drip and waiting for the oats to set before eating them. “Pardon me, my lady, but do you mind I join you?”
“I don’t know. Are you a MagnorCo goon?” She teased.
“Hell no, honey. If I were, I’d be smart enough not to come near you, after what you did to those other fellas.”
“What about what I did to you?” she asked eyebrows raised. He was pretty sure she was referring to the wounds that were still visible on his wrists from his brief time in bondage as her captive, as she looked down at his wrists with a frown. He sat down next to her and put his fingers under her chin and pulled her gaze up to his eyes.
“Now look here, you’ve just got a thing for bondage. I saw what you did to that thug in the woods. We can work with that. Just gotta give me a bit more warning’s all.” he laughed. “Besides, what you did to me last night makes up for anything.” He held her hand and could feel his breath catching at just the thought of the night before. He had half a mind to take her back over to his bunk, undress her, and try him on top this time, but he thought he remembered that her partner may be coming back sooner than later.
“Hey, any news of your partner?” Arron asked, hesitantly.
“Oh! I... got distracted…” Her blues caught his eyes again. “I forgot that I asked Serge to get ahold of him for me to let him know we needed him. Serge. Serge? Did you hear back from him?”
The small bot’s beeps and chimes almost sounded defensive.
He could see color rising to her cheeks. “Well, yes, okay, maybe I was a bit distracted, but if you’d heard back from him, I mean...Well, okay Serge, just give me his message?”
Serge beeped and chimed triumphantly. And by the end of his message Paige’s eyes were lit up and her celebratory demeanor contagious though Arron had no clue what the bot had said.
“He filed it? He filed it!” She yelled, jumping up and down like a small child. She ran over and kissed Arron full on the mouth. “The claim is ours! It’s ours!” She danced around the tent like it was new, like it was the best place she’d ever been. “We should head to Paloma and get you to your buyer,” she said happily but somewhat sheepish about her boisterous celebration.
“Well, congrats, honey!” he replied, sincerely, despite the sinking in his heart at the possibility of meeting her partner in Paloma. “Isn’t he going to be annoyed if you’re not here when he gets back?”
Paige was already moving on to packing a bag for the trip. “He said to meet him there to celebrate.”
“Oh.” Definitely meeting the partner, then. “Er...when?”
“Tomorrow at noon,” she answered, pulling on her boots and hustling over to him. “Come on, get yourself up! I don’t want you to miss your deal after everything you’ve been through.”
It was sweet of her, and Arron smiled at her earnestness as he watched her bounce around the tent, tucking tools and tidbits into her bag.
“No worries on that, honey,” he said, pulling himself to his feet and going to find the clean set of clothes she’d set out for him. “I got all the time in the world.” he wasn’t even sure he could still make contact with his buyer, but he figured he had to try. It would take his mind of Paige’s partner.
The very fact that he was worried annoyed him. It wasn’t like he could expect anything from Paige. He’d known going into it she wasn’t available, couldn’t ever really be his. It was nice to hold her for a while, and he couldn’t regret the help he’d given her, but he had to accept that all he had left with her was the day.
“Come on, slow poke,” she called from the doorway, pack slung over her shoulder, bots at the ready.
“I’m coming, woman,” he answered. “Keep your skirt on.”
; If they only had one day left, he was damn well going to make the most of it.
…
Paige was all but floating as they hiked down the valley toward Paloma. She could tell Arron’s knee was bothering him, but he was making good time nonetheless. She figured they’d reach Paloma well before nightfall, with plenty of time for him to finish his deal while she found them a place to stay. He was quiet for most of the hike, though occasionally he’d tell stories about jobs he’d been on, scrapes he’d gotten himself into. She loved hearing him talk about his ship, and she couldn’t wait to see Aphrodite until she realized that she probably wouldn’t get a chance to until he was ready to go, and that deflated her mood significantly.
She’d thought she was hiding it well enough, but after a quick break for lunch, Arron fell silent too. It was hard to focus on her joy at filing the claim with that melancholy hanging over her. Just when she thought she was settling into a funk to last the rest of the day, though, Arron broke into Waltzing Matilda, and in a few verses she was laughing and singing along with him, warm all over with pleasure and the memory of it.
They reached Paloma just before dark, and Paige had never been so glad to see the static field engulfing the city pop and crackle as they passed through. For the first time in months, she’d be able to sleep without worrying about MagnorCo or the reuzespins.
“Where are you meeting your guy?” she asked once their papers had been checked by a gate attendant.
“Down by the train station,” Arron said, sounding awfully low for someone about to make a sale.
“Meet me at Natalia’s in two hours?” Paige suggested. “They do a great roast supper.”
“And what are you going to be up to while I’m about my business?” Arron asked, sneaking an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, making her skin heat and flush at the memory of being so close to him.
“Finding us a place to stay.” Now that she said it out loud, it sounded presumptuous. What if he didn’t want to stay with her? What if he was just looking for an excuse to leave her on her own and get on with his life? She couldn’t be more than a pit stop for him, a few days’ company before he was off on his next adventure.
“That sounds divine, honey,” he said, and she couldn’t worry anymore when he kissed her like that, right out in the middle of a crowded street.
“Get on, you,” she scolded him when she finally pulled away. “You’ve got business to conduct, and so have I.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled and offered her a fake salute, but there was something like regret gathering at the corners of his eyes, and she didn’t want to think too much on that.
…
Dinner had been tinged with that same regret, and Paige couldn’t fight the way it tingled under her skin, itching uncomfortably. Was he regretting being with her? Regretting last night? Was he regretting ever getting caught up in her business? What could she possibly offer him that he couldn’t get on his own? What had she brought him but trouble?
It wasn’t until they reached their hotel room after a silent walk from the restaurant that Arron seemed to notice the change in her demeanor. “Hey,” he said softly, pushing a curl back from her forehead. “What’s eating you?”
She leaned into the touch, eyes closing, determined to take it for what it was and not wish for more. “Nothing,” she murmured. “We’re meant to be celebrating tonight, aren’t we?”
“That we are,” he agreed, his voice low and almost cautious. He gathered her to him too gently, held her too reverently, pressed his lips to hers too tenderly. She wanted it to be like the first time, frenzied and rushed, full of undeniable passion and unbridled relief.
Instead, he led her to the bed--softer than anything she remembered sleeping in for the past year--and slowly undressed her, his eyes skating across her skin as it was bared, leaving a searing heat and a thrilling shiver in their wake. She let him peel off each layer of clothing until she stood in front of him completely naked, her skin silver in the moonlight that was their only illumination.
“God above, you’re magnificent,” he breathed, and she had to kiss him to quiet him. She couldn’t bear to hear him say things like that. Not when he was almost gone.
It was her turn then, and though she wanted to tear off his clothes and move straight to fucking him, her touch was just as hesitant as his. She let her fingers trail over his skin, finding scars and bruises and skating a blessing of touch across them, her hand warming to his skin. She peeled off his trousers and found him hard and ready beneath them, but instead of coaxing him into her inviting warmth, she leaned up to kiss his jaw, then moved slowly down his body, lips lingering on marks as they went, until she knelt in front of him. She’d wanted to taste him since she’d helped him bathe, overcome by curiosity. If this was her last chance, she was certainly going to take it.
Her lips closed around the tip, and she felt his groan vibrate through her as his fingers tangled in her short hair. Her tongue gathered the droplet at the head of his cock, and then she was sliding lower, letting him fill her mouth. He held his hips steady, and she took him as deep as she could manage, her hands sliding up his thighs until they reached his erection, one wrapping around the base to grip what she couldn’t fit into her mouth.
He whispered her name, low and gruff, murmuring encouragements and endearments as she worked over him, reveling in the noises of his desire until he tugged at her hair, pulling her off. “I need a break, honey,” he said, his voice wrecked. “That’s not where I plan to finish tonight.”
She flushed with her own pleasure as he pulled her to her feet, strong despite his injuries, and gently laid her back onto the bed. “My turn,” he said, a crooked smile on his face. She was about to ask what he meant and then he was tugging her legs apart and dropping his head between them. His beard tickled her thighs, but it was a groan not a giggle that slipped past her lips when he licked between them, tongue teasing over her labia before slipping between them tasting her slick folds, licking everywhere but where she wanted his tongue.
“Please,” she gasped. “Arron…”
He growled softly at the sound of his name and then he was licking in earnest, tongue seeking her clit, rolling it, sucking it, letting his teeth catch on it until she was so overwhelmed by the sensations that all she could do was arch wordlessly to his mouth.
Just when she was about to give in and let herself fall over the edge, he lifted his head. “Don’t want you to finish there either,” he said, and when he bent to kiss her, she could taste herself on his lips, in his beard. In one smooth movement, he was inside her, and they groaned in unison as they began to move, clinging to each other.
Paige couldn’t help thinking it felt like saying goodbye.
Even their orgasms were gentler this time, though somehow they managed to reach them together, Arron holding her gaze, gasping her name, as he filled her, her body shuddering and rippling around him.
“Don’t let go, don’t let go, don’t let go,” she muttered, and he responded, “I won’t, I won’t, I won’t.”
…
Arron woke late the next morning, reveling in the ability to sleep past dawn, the comfort of the bed, and the warmth of Paige against his side.
Or she had been against his side. His side was curiously cold when he pushed himself up and rubbed his face groggily. In her place, he found a note, printed in a rushed, scrawling hand.
Off to meet the partner. If you’re up by noon, join us for lunch at the Pig and Whistle?
He stared at the note for a long moment, unsure what to make of it. She was meeting up with her partner. Her partner he wasn’t supposed to worry about. Her partner who wouldn’t care if she were sleeping with another man. He couldn’t imagine that. Even the thought of this faceless partner touching her hand sent shivers through him, made his jaw and fists clench.
He should just go, just be on his way and leave her behind like he’d have to soon enough. When he’d just about made up his mind to do just that, he felt so
mething bump against his ankle and looked down to see Sergei peering up at him--as much as the bots peered; they didn’t exactly have eyes--beeping softly.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, but he thought of Paige’s hands as she’d worked with Sergi, thought of the tears in her eyes when Sergio had been destroyed. “All right, all right,” he muttered when the bot bumped him again. “I’m going. Hopper, Yang-tse and Lovelace.”
He took his pack with him, just in case, but he dutifully made his way down to the Pig and Whistle, stopping at the front desk for directions before heading off.
It wasn’t a long walk, but he paused outside the door for a good five minutes, steeling his nerve against what he’d find when he walked in.
When he finally pushed open the door and stepped inside, he had to let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting before he could even look for her. When he did spot her, she was already waving him over, and he could see a man sitting at her table, broad shoulders, powerfully built. He was wearing a bowler derby, so Arron couldn’t quite get a good view of his face, but jealousy surged through him anyway.
“Arron!” Paige cried as he approached. She stood to greet him and threw her arms around his shoulders. He stiffened at the touch, unsure of the etiquette here. Was this some sort of deal she had with her partner, some joke he was in on at Arron’s expense.
She smelled too sweet and felt too good for him to pull back, but he was too tense to return the embrace, and she broke it after a short moment.
“So,” said a voice at Arron’s shoulder, and he turned to see the man she’d been with standing as well, pulling off his hat and offering Arron his hand. Close up and without the hat, Arron could see the man was considerably older. At least old enough to be Paige’s…
“I hear you’ve taken a fancy to my daughter,” the man said, and Arron choked on a surprised laugh.
Paige gave his back a hefty slap, and said, “Dad, this is Arron. Arron, this is my partner, Carl Roth.”