by Nina Croft
Skylar raised an eyebrow. “So how come, if this is your ship, you’re not the captain?”
“I don’t want to be captain. I like living on the ship. It provides me with a safe haven and a quick escape if I need to get out of somewhere fast—”
“I bet that happens quite a lot,” she interrupted.
He smiled. “Occasionally, but I don’t want the responsibility. This works well for both of us. I like to keep my distance from the crew.”
“Why?”
“In case I ever have to…” he paused as he came to a halt outside a door and pressed his palm to the panel.
“Eat them?” she finished for him.
He flashed her a grin. “I don’t eat everyone I come into contact with—I’m very selective. But humans are fragile, and I’ve learned not to become too attached.”
The door slid open. Skylar hesitated, and Rico put his hand to the small of her back.
She jumped and forced a smile. “Thank you.”
His lips twitched. “I’ll come in for a minute and show you where everything is.” He applied a gentle pressure.
Skylar stood firm. “I’m sure I can find everything I need.”
He ignored her. “And make sure you have no problems with the transfer.”
“There won’t be any problems.”
The pressure increased. For a moment, Skylar resisted then gave a mental shrug and stepped inside.
Rico followed, and the door shut behind them. When she stepped away from him, his hand dropped to his side.
The cabin was big, luxurious even, with a large bed dominating the center of the quarters, a chair, and a desk. This was the first place on the ship she had seen any color—the room was decorated in shades of blue. Her favorite.
“Nice,” she said.
“It matches your eyes.”
Her gaze flew to his face. “How original,” she muttered.
“But true.”
For a minute, their eyes locked. His were dark, still amused, but with more than a hint of heat in their depths. A small fire blazed into life in her belly, and she started with uncomfortable shock. What was it with this guy? She’d never had problems like this before. She tore her gaze from his, took a deep breath. “Right then, I’ll do the transfer.”
He lounged, one shoulder against the wall, arms crossed, and watched while she took a seat at the desk and switched on the external comm unit.
It took only a few moments for the transfer to be completed, and she sat staring at the holographic screen. “There,” she said. “Done. You want to check?”
“I trust you.”
She glanced up in surprise. “You do?”
“Sure. We’re a team now.” Rico pushed himself from the wall. “Which calls for some sort of celebration.”
“The time for celebrating is when the job is done.”
“Aw, come on. Have a little drink with me.”
“A drink of what?”
. . .
Rico bit back a laugh. She clearly expected him to jump on her at any moment and latch onto that pretty neck. Not that the idea hadn’t occurred to him. With that thought, he had to push down the hunger. He didn’t want to scare her.
Well not just yet. He always found a little fear spiced up the blood.
It had been a long time since he’d wanted something this much. Maybe it was because she was an interesting combination of toughness and vulnerability. Earlier, he’d sensed her attraction and her confusion. She obviously wasn’t used to either feeling, and that intrigued him.
An impossible job and an intriguing woman—what more could a man ask for?
He unbuckled the strap that held his back scabbard and pulled it off, placing the sword on the floor.
Skylar stared at him suspiciously.
“Just getting comfortable,” he said.
He reached into his pocket and drew out a silver flask, held it up to her, and shook it so the liquid inside sloshed from side to side.
“Oh,” she muttered.
“You sound almost disappointed.”
She frowned. “Of course not.”
He pulled two glasses from the cabinet above the desk and poured them both a shot. Picking up his, he gestured to Skylar to do the same. She inspected the amber liquid as though she suspected it might be poison but lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip. She blinked and put the glass down, her eyes watering.
“What is that stuff?” There was a slight squeak to her voice.
“Whiskey,” he said. “An old Earth drink. I get it made specially.”
He drained his glass and poured himself a second. Sinking onto the sofa opposite her, he watched as she took another tentative sip and licked a bead of whiskey from her lips. His gaze fixed on her mouth as the hunger stirred inside him. Leaning closer, he breathed in the scent of warm woman. “Tell me all about yourself, Skylar Rossaria.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
She was such a mass of contradictions, obviously trying hard to seem nonchalant and cool-headed—the hardened soldier, but Rico could hear the blood pounding in her veins. He leaned forward, and her rapid heartbeat rocketed.
“There’s always something to tell.”
She shrugged. “I told you everything you need to know.”
He angled his head to one side and studied her face. Dios, she was pretty, but her expression was blank, and he wondered what she was hiding and how hard he would have to press her to get the truth. He realized he didn’t want to force her. “Well, tell me something I’d like to know.”
Her arched brows drew together, and Rico got the distinct impression that social conversation was not something she indulged in often. Curious.
“Like what?” she asked.
“Hmm. How about, what did you like best about being in the rebel army?”
She thought for a moment. “The planning. I liked planning the operations.”
“Not shooting people? My guess is you’ve done quite a bit of shooting.”
“Why do you say that?”
He nodded at her hands clasped on her lap. “You have calluses on your palm and fingers.”
She squeezed her hands tighter. “How do you know?”
“I felt them straight away when we shook hands.”
“That’s what you were doing. I thought you were—”She trailed off, sounding almost disappointed.
Rico grinned. “Holding your hand? I was doing that as well, querida.”
She ignored the endearment and shrugged again. “I’ve been well-trained. I’m good.”
“I bet you are.” He tapped the seat beside him. “Why don’t you come and sit next to me and tell me what else you’re good at?”
Her gaze shot from the seat, to him, and back again. “I’m quite comfortable here, thank you.” Reaching out, she picked up her glass, swallowed the liquid in one gulp, and coughed. “Wow.” She picked up the silver flask, poured herself another measure. “Whiskey? From Earth? Another hobby of yours—the study of ancient human beverages?”
“Something like that,” he murmured, watching in amusement as she swallowed the second glassful. To someone not used to alcohol it could be potent stuff. He sat back and sipped his own drink, anticipating the exact moment the alcohol hit her bloodstream. She rose unsteadily to her feet, her gaze narrowing on the flask as if it were a gas grenade, primed and ready to explode. “Have you drugged me?”
“Not exactly.”
Her brow furrowed. “What does not exactly mean?” She reached out a hand and rested it on the desk, swaying a tad leeward. “I feel a little odd.”
Very few people had encountered alcohol—it had been banned in the early twenty-first century as detrimental to human life. Still, he’d never seen quite such a dramatic effect before. But then, he normally drank with Tannis, who could drink even him under the table. He got up and strode to where Skylar stood. She didn’t protest as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. He sat down, settling her in his lap. The c
urve of her bottom pressed against his groin, and he rested his back against the wall, savoring the feel of her, hard yet soft in all the interesting places.
“Lie still,” he murmured. “You’ll feel better in a minute.”
She opened her eyes and blinked up at him. “What have you done to me?”
“Nothing on purpose. Don’t worry, the effect will pass.”
“It’s quite nice. I close my eyes and the world spins.”
“Haven’t you ever taken recreational drugs?”
She shook her head. “Never. My family would not have approved, and once I was in the army, they were banned. ”
“Well your family isn’t here now.”
“No, they’re not.” She sighed and wriggled against him. He was sure it was unintentional, but his body responded, his hips lifting.
She was drunk.
A better man wouldn’t take advantage of that fact. Sometimes he was inordinately pleased he was not a better man. He ran a finger under her chin, raised her head, and kissed her. Skylar didn’t move as he slipped his tongue between her lips. She tasted of whiskey and something else, something unique, but as divine as he’d expected, and he leisurely stroked his tongue along the length of hers, feeling her shiver in his arms.
She wriggled again, and this time he suspected it was intentional. Shifting in his arms, she straddled him, a knee on either side of his hips, pressing herself down, rubbing against him until his cock ached with need.
He instinctively pushed up against her, and she moaned low in her throat.
At the throaty purr, desire burned in his belly, his gums ached. He wanted nothing more than to toss her on her back and take her in every way possible, but something held him back. Some crazy need to know this wasn’t entirely because of the alcohol she had consumed. He went still as shock hit him in the gut.
What a goddamn stupid time to develop a conscience.
She scattered small kisses across his face and throat, her fingers biting into his shoulders. It took her a minute to realize he wasn’t responding, and then she drew back from him. “You’ve stopped.”
Rico studied her. Her cheeks were flushed and a small pulse throbbed in her throat, but her eyes were clear. “How do you feel?”
She sat back on her heels, a confused frown furrowing her brow as she considered her answer. Her gaze wandered over him, and a slow smile spread across her face. “I feel wonderful.”
Chapter Six
His eyes widened in surprise at her answer.
She’d shocked him. Good!
But the truth was, she did feel wonderful. While the initial dizziness had passed, her blood still buzzed. She knew it was the aftereffects of the whiskey Rico had given her, but she wasn’t sure she cared. It was as though her body had sprung into life after a long, deep sleep.
All the same, she ran a quick internal analysis, identifying the chemicals in her system. They would only take moments to eliminate.
But she hesitated.
Rico had made it clear he wanted her from the moment they’d met. And Skylar was honest enough to admit, to herself at least, that she wasn’t totally immune to his charms. But she was a soldier, and she’d had every intention of keeping her mind, and the rest of her, firmly fixed on her mission.
Right up until five minutes ago.
Now, with this lovely buzzing in her blood and Rico’s hard sex pressing against her, taunting her with delicious possibilities, she was rethinking her strategy. After all, she was working undercover. Maybe she didn’t have to be quite so rigid in her attitudes. And wasn’t that the key to being a successful operative—the ability to adapt your approach to changing circumstances?
As long as she stayed in control of the situation, why couldn’t she have this one time? It wasn’t outside the parameters of her character, and she could always say afterwards that she’d been under the influence. Perhaps she could even accuse Rico of taking advantage. Skylar had to bite back a smile at the idea. She had a strong suspicion he wouldn’t mind the accusation, possibly even reveling in the slight.
How long had it been since she’d kissed a man? How long since she’d even wanted to? So many years she couldn’t remember. But then, having a whole load of people in your head could be inhibiting.
Now she didn’t feel self-conscious. She felt wild and hot, every nerve ending sensitized.
A vague doubt nagged at her, but she shoved it aside. Rico Sanchez was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Looking into that hard, handsome face sent frissons of pleasure shivering over her skin, tightening the hard knot of desire in her belly. The taste of him lingered on her tongue, her breasts ached, her sex swollen with need.
She shifted slightly, so the rigid line of his erection pressed more firmly against her core, and the knot unraveled, her insides melting.
She tried the movement again, and flames licked through her, burning along her nerves, settling between her thighs. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the sensations, rocking herself against him. So close.
“You don’t feel lightheaded?”
The question broke her concentration, and her lids fluttered open. Rico was watching her, his brows drawn together.
“My head feels fine.” She moved in closer to kiss him, but his hands gripped her shoulders and fended her off.
What the hell? He’d come on to her strong; now he watched her as though he didn’t quite understand what was going on. Maybe he was one of those guys who liked to make all the moves.
“How about the rest of you?” he asked.
Gritting her teeth, she forced a smile. “The rest of me is fine as well.”
“You’re not disorientated? You know what you’re doing?”
She rolled her eyes. “Well I thought I did, though I have to admit it’s been a while.” A horrible idea occurred to her. “Is this some weird vampire shit? Do vampires even have sex? Everlasting Hell, don’t tell me you’re impotent.”
“Impotent?” He repeated the word as though he wasn’t sure what it meant.
“Please don’t tell me the big come-on is all an act—you’re overcompensating for the fact that you can’t actually do it.”
Skylar couldn’t believe the disappointment that swamped her while her body still screamed for release. She tried to back away, but his grip tightened, squeezing her arms and holding her in place.
“Impotent?” His tone was incredulous, outraged. He flexed his hips, pushing his erection against her as if to prove his point. “I am not impotent. I have sex. Hot, sweaty, liquefying sex. And I have it often.”
Her body reacted predictably to each word, and she rubbed up against his hard body again. “Terrific news.”
His hands shifted from her shoulders to the neck of her jumpsuit, and he pushed down the fastener. Swift fingers snagged on the weapons’ belt at her waist, and she didn’t protest when he flipped the catch and placed the belt on the table beside them.
He slid his cool hands up her ribcage, parted the material, and cupped her full breasts in his palms. He lifted them and lowered his head, drawing one nipple into his fiery mouth. Hard. Nipping and sucking with raw hunger. The sensation was exquisite, and a low whimper escaped her throat as pleasure exploded inside her, shooting from her breasts to her groin.
Her fingers burrowed beneath his silky hair, pulling it free from the band and pressing his head roughly against her chest, and everything fled her mind but his hot, wet mouth on her breasts.
After long minutes, he pulled back, his eyes dark with passion. In one fluid movement, he picked her up and swung her beneath his body, his weight pressing her into the softness of the bed. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he attacked her other breast with uncontrolled need, with single-minded focus, with a desperation she’d never known.
Her blood roared in her ears, and she raised her hips, as he tugged the jumpsuit down to her thighs, then pulled off her boots, quickly followed by the rest of her clothes.
He ran a hand from her breast to the mound
at the base of her belly, and then lower, slipping a finger between the folds of her sex to find her already hot and wet. He moistened the tip of his finger and flirted with the tight little nub at her core until her legs fell open for him. He withdrew, and she moaned. Ignoring the sound, hetraced a path down over her inner thigh.
“Did you know, you have a vein, right here,” he murmured.
“A vein?”
He rubbed his thumb over the spot. “Let me taste you, get to know you. I can tell a lot from a tiny sip of your blood.”
She went still at his words. Fear forced itself beyond the pleasure-induced haze fogging her brain. “What—what can you tell?”
He shrugged, casually tracing his finger up and down the vein. “How old you are, whether you’re a hybrid or even a clone.”
Panic flared.
“No, wait, I don’t—”
“Shh, it won’t hurt. You’ll like it, I promise.”
She scooted up the bed away from him. “We agreed—after the rescue.”
For a moment, she thought he’d force the issue and she braced herself to fight. Instead, he stroked his hand back up her thigh, dipped inside her, teasing lazy circles around her clit, never quite touching. She couldn’t help herself, she laid back, her hips rising, her thighs widening. “Oh God, that feels good.”
“This will feel even better.” He leaned down to stroke her with his tongue, hot wet velvet, and she exploded with pleasure. Her whole body arched off the bed. His hands tightened on her hips, his hard fingers biting into her flesh, and he held her in place while his clever mouth played her with lingering strokes of his tongue. When the tremors eased, he bit down lightly, and this time she threw back her head and screamed.
She must have blacked out. When she came around, he was crouched over her body, kissing her breasts, nuzzling her throat. Her limbs felt boneless; she never wanted to move again.
The sharpness of his fangs grazed her skin.
“No.” The word came out as a squeak.
“You don’t mean that,” he whispered against her skin.
“I do.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, I do.”
“You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”
Skylar did her best to ignore the husky cajoling tone of his voice, warm and intoxicating as the whiskey he’d given her earlier. Maybe she would enjoy it, but that was beside the point. If he’d told the truth, one taste of her blood and he’d know everything and the mission would be over. Her first mission in her new job—a total failure, and all her own stupid fault.