Medusa's Touch

by Emily L Byrne

  She trailed her finger over the pad, moving around the ship from the Bridge to the crews’ quarters. Vahn was still in his quarters and her crew was at their stations or off camera, presumably sleeping or engaged in some other harmless activity. She checked the remaining cameras, two at a time on the Astra’s tiny secur screen, checking the common areas and corridors. Nothing out of the ordinary met her anxious gaze.

  And she was anxious. Part of her wanted Erol to be wrong, wanted Sherin to be nothing more than she appeared to be. More than a part of her, if she was being honest. The rep intrigued, inflamed her, fascinated her. If Erol was right, she’d have to give up any hopes of being with the other woman, but she was going to hate making that choice.

  She finally located Sherin, sitting alone in the small crew lounge that doubled as their mess hall. She found herself circling the screen with one caressing finger, wondering if the rep’s skin felt as silky as she imagined that it would. Then she caught herself and yanked her finger back from the screen like she’d been burned.

  If Erol was right, she was an idiot to get so infatuated with this woman. She closed and locked the security console back into the corridor wall with a sigh, her medusas clustering tight around her head and neck in an attempt at comfort. It was time to go get some answers before they had to get ready for the jump. Now, if only she was sure she knew what all the questions were. TiCara swore another silent vow that the Astra would never carry passengers again.

  Even particularly luscious ones.

  Especially luscious ones.

  When she climbed the ladder up to the lounge, Sherin was standing and staring out the clear dome at the surrounding system. The distant stars were beginning to look blurry as the Astra built up to full speed to leave the Kyrin System. They’d be shifting to hyperdrive soon.

  The ship will be making the jump soon. You know how the slings work? TiCara almost didn’t realize that she spoken her thought aloud until Sherin jumped at the sound of her voice.

  Once she stopped looking startled, TiCara thought that she looked sad, her kissable lips drooping a little at the corners. Her face had been tilted back to display her lovely profile, reminding TiCara of the tiny statue of an Old Earth goddess that she kept in her quarters, a memento of a past job. Sherin raised one hand to her head and stroked her scalp in an absent-minded gesture that struck TiCara as familiar, though she wasn’t immediately sure why.

  TiCara hesitated before stepping off the ladder, breath catching in her throat as she looked at the other woman. She was torn between wanting to make the rep smile, imagining what she might look like glowing in rare happiness, and destroying their small moment of rapport by confronting her with Erol’s information and her own distrust.

  At the same time, she also wondered what made the other woman look so sad. The thought of betraying her employer to another corp, perhaps? Revulsion at her attraction to a medusa pilot? There was no end of options, most of them not very appealing, at least to TiCara.

  The moment of stillness didn’t last long; Sherin realized that they were staring at each other and turned away to look back at the stars. There were tears welling in her dark brown eyes but she blinked them away, then ran her hand across her face with a fierce swipe. When she looked at TiCara again, her expression was blank and expressionless, like uncarved stone. What was that, Captain?

  TiCara stepped forward and reached out for her, pity and sympathy driving the gesture as much as lust, making her forget her suspicions for a moment. She meant her touch to be comforting, but Sherin flinched away, her shoulders trembling. TiCara jerked her hand back, wounded. Just wanted to give you tell about the jump, make sure you knew and got into a sling in time. They watched each other like wary combatants in a portside gaming ring.

  Then, just as suddenly as she had recoiled, Sherin lunged forward, reached out and caught TiCara in her arms.

  The pilot held her, shivering a little, as if Sherin’s trembling was contagious. Then the rep gave a tiny sob into TiCara’s shoulder. Surprised by a wave of tenderness she almost didn’t recognize in herself, TiCara held her for a long moment, reining in her questions and suspicions. And trying to hold back her body’s demands, which was much, much harder.

  Sherin startled her further by pressing up against her, molding her body against hers until it was hard to concentrate. TiCara kept her hands still with an effort, trying not to take advantage of the other woman’s vulnerability. Such self-control came with an effort, but then, she’d learned plenty of that from her time with Elia.

  Instead of doing what she so desperately wanted to do and sliding her hands over the rep’s suit, unfastening and caressing and baring her skin, she stroked Sherin’s hair. It was a tentative, careful caress, forcing her fingers to do her mind’s bidding, not her body’s.

  Sherin stunned her by placing a tentative kiss on the exposed skin of her neck, following it up with a gentle swipe of her tongue. She caught the lobe of TiCara’s ear between her front teeth and nipped at the tender flesh. TiCara gasped at the unexpected contact, letting the sensations slide down her body and stroke their way between her thighs until it felt like Sherin’s tongue and fingers were already where she wanted them most.

  Unable to resist, she turned her face to Sherin’s and kissed her, slipping her tongue between her parted lips. Sherin tasted like tears and honey, salty and sweet. TiCara wanted to savor that taste, that sensation. Drink in Sherin until she was sated, if she could ever be.

  But then, there was that salty aftertaste. TiCara didn’t often feel like she was doing something wrong. It was unfamiliar, unpleasant, and it interfered with all that she wanted to be feeling right now. Breaking off the kiss took everything she had. She tried to step back away from Sherin, but the rep only held her tighter.

  So instead of pulling away, she twisted slightly and tilted Sherin’s face toward hers with careful fingers. Sherin’s eyes were closed tight now, no tears at the edges, as TiCara echoed the question that Sherin had asked when she came in, her brain automatically switching to spacer talk, What’s malfunctioned…sorry. I mean what’s wrong?

  Instead of answering, Sherin locked her hands around her neck and pulled her into a fierce kiss, her tongue invading TiCara’s mouth, shoving its way between her lips, probing and testing until TiCara gasped for air. It was like being devoured and she could feel herself edge perilously close to surrender. As if the rep knew exactly what she was feeling, Sherin slipped her leg between TiCara’s and the pilot’s hips rocked forward automatically, sending a wave of heat through her.

  She should stop this; every instinct told her so. She should back away and find out why the rep had been crying and what else she was up to. The Astra could be in danger, and she and her crew along with it. But Sherin wouldn’t give her tru tell, at least not right away, not until she won her trust. Maybe the best way to do that was to give the other woman what she clearly wanted.

  Yes, that felt like a fine solution right now. She ran her hand down Sherin’s back to the rounded curve of her buttocks and squeezed, pulling Sherin in closer until the rep moaned low in her throat. Her hips tilted forward against Sherin’s thigh in response.

  Besides, TiCara knew what it was like to have sex to forget, and that sometimes that was all that was needed or offered. And if she didn’t take this chance, who knew how long it would be before she got another chance? Was she willing to walk away from a chance she’d been dreaming about for what felt like a dozen Old Earth years?

  Perhaps she hadn’t learned that much self-control, after all.

  She bit back a grin as she reached up and unfastened the top of the rep’s blacksuit. Sherin’s skin was as silky as she had imagined and she gave an appreciative groan of her own in response. She could feel Sherin stiffen, just for a breath, then press back against her.

  The rep began clumsily unfastening TiCara’s blacksuit, shoving TiCara’s hands away as she kissed her way down the pilot’s collarbone and exposed cleavage. She pealed back TiCara’s suit like
she was exposing a ripe fruit, her mouth urgent on TiCara’s rapidly bared breasts. The pilot groaned again, the sound traveling up her throat and out between her lips until her entire body trembled with it.

  Her own hands were just as frantic on the fastenings of the rep’s suit, desperate to feel more of that silky, golden brown skin against her own. Suit fastenings had never seemed so very hard to undo. When at last she succeeded in baring Sherin’s body to her waist, Sherin pressed her bare breasts against TiCara’s as she leaned in for a long kiss.

  With a soft groan, TiCara released Sherin’s long black hair from the clasp that held it in place. She buried her hands in its ebony length, using it to pull Sherin’s face up and back, arching her neck and shoulders. She bent down and used her tongue and mouth to caress the rep’s neck and shoulders while her fingers got lost in Sherin’s hair, reveling in her fantasies come to life.

  As TiCara let Sherin’s hair slide through her fingers like silken water, she touched the rep’s skull, and nearly jerked away in astonishment. Sherin’s scalp was rough and pocked, as if her hair hid heavy scarring. What could it be? Burns? The medic machines should have been able to heal an injury as basic as that.

  But maybe she’d been too far from a machine when it happened. Or perhaps it was just one more mystery about Sherin she’d have to wait to solve. TiCara tried to remind herself that she had always liked a little mystery in her lovers and let her hand drop away from Sherin’s head, trying to make her worries drop away the same way.

  Besides, there were other things on her mind right now. Sherin went very still as TiCara lowered her medusas, letting them caress Sherin’s neck and jaw with a dozen tiny electric kisses. The rep shuddered in her arms, huge dark eyes closed like she couldn’t bear to watch but she didn’t pull away. Her breasts heaved and her hands trembled against TiCara’s skin, as if she was overcome by the sensations.

  TiCara paused, fighting her lust for control. Should she stop? Could she? She wasn’t sure. Then the thought fled as Sherin ground her hips against TiCara’s, the motion reminding the pilot of her own urgent need. She extended a lone medusa to stroke its way down to Sherin’s nipple, sending the smallest of shocks through the rep’s sensitive skin.

  Sherin wailed and jerked away, the noise suggesting loss as much as desire, at least to TiCara’s startled ears. But before she could pull away, the rep’s body shuddered against TiCara’s, her thighs tightening around the pilot’s legs. She ground her crotch on TiCara’s hip and leg, her movements growing faster and more urgent.

  TiCara bit back a smile as her implants fed the rep’s sensations into her own brain. She knew that her implants were worth all that she’d gone through to get them, and more, but reminders were always…nice. She followed the medusas with her mouth, drawing her tongue slowly along the same path down Sherin’s body until she pulled first one hardened nipple into her mouth, then turned her head to take in the other. She could feel Sherin’s heartbeat race under her lips as she let several of her medusas trace their way over the rep’s skin.

  Sherin shivered, her muscles spasming, as TiCara dropped one hand down between her legs, forcing the blacksuit open below the rep’s waist so she could caress her sex. She moaned, a sound that shook her from head to toe and TiCara grinned, sucking harder on her responsive flesh.

  Then she maneuvered Sherin back onto the low table and stretched her out on it. The rep dropped backward onto the hard surface as if her body had no bones in it. Her eyes were still closed but TiCara was startled to see a new teardrop lingering at the edge of her long lashes. Once again, she wondered if she should stop, but she was burning with desire now, thighs slick with wanting. Her heart was beating so fast, it felt like it might explode from her chest.

  Besides, hadn’t Sherin given her every indication that the desire was mutual? Even now, the rep’s hands were caressing her body. Then, Sherin raised her hand and gently touched one of TiCara’s medusas, her fingers careful on its sensor as if she was curious about how it would feel or what it would do.

  Dismissing her concerns, TiCara climbed up on the table to kiss the tear away as she balanced herself over the other woman’s body. Sherin’s hands turned to claws, fiercely dragging her blacksuit and boots off. Her hands were hot on TiCara’s skin everywhere she touched. TiCara growled softly as Sherin’s touch got rougher, pinching her nipples and breasts.

  When she kissed TiCara again, her lips were hard, her arms like steel bands holding TiCara in place above her. Now it was TiCara’s turn to gasp for breath. The rep opened her eyes for a moment, her expression unreadable as she rolled the pilot off her and twisted sideways so that TiCara lay on the table and she could strip TiCara’s remaining clothing from her squirming body. TiCara groaned and laughed; this was so much better than her fantasies.

  Sherin threw herself off the table onto the cushioned bench that ran behind it. Sitting up, she yanked TiCara around so that her face was between the pilot’s thighs. After an initial moment of awkwardness, she began licking TiCara as if she had always known how to do it.

  TiCara bucked at the touch of her tongue and moaned, Inside me. She paused and hesitated at the desperation in her own voice. Her body screamed with need but did Sherin have to know how vulnerable she was? She

  stiffened, trying to control her nerve endings by sheer force of will. Her efforts failed miserably.

  A chorus of moans tore themselves from her lips until she found herself begging, Please. There were too many questions to be asked, too many answers missing. Her mind and her body warred with each other as Sherin sucked and licked with increasing eagerness, two of her fingers sliding inside TiCara’s wetness below the circle of nerves on fire that was becoming the center of the pilot’s universe.

  Her body was responding to every swipe of Sherin’s tongue, every twitch of her fingers. TiCara’s legs tightened as her hips bucked against Sherin’s mouth. It was as if she hadn’t sex in entire revolutions. Her body was starving for more, far more than the medusa-driven fantasy sex of VR.

  TiCara humped Sherin’s mouth, hips rocking and driving upward as her nerve endings overrode her fears. Sherin’s thumb found her clit and pressed down hard, barely moving, but the pressure alone was enough to make TiCara give herself up with a shout, her hips heaving under Sherin’s mouth and hands.

  The rep withdrew her fingers after a few moments, kissing the skin of her thighs while TiCara’s shivers subsided. She reached for Sherin as the other woman suddenly drove all her fingers into her aching wetness, fastening her mouth to TiCara’s clit in the same forward motion. The drive of her hand was relentless, pounding TiCara until the pilot came again with a shout that was nearly a scream.

  Sherin leaned forward as TiCara’s shudders finally slowed, resting her cheek on TiCara’s thigh so that the pilot could feel her breathing, feel her heart race. She pulled her hand free leaving TiCara sated and empty, as the heat of the rep’s touch began to fade.

  They lay still, TiCara drinking in the lounge’s slightly stale air in gulps. After a few moments, she caught her breath enough to reach out for Sherin. She tried to pull the rep onto the table with her, wanting nothing more than to feel Sherin’s body open to her touch.

  Sherin jerked away, shuddering. TiCara sat up slowly, letting her bafflement show. Had she done something wrong?

  The other woman’s eyes were wild, like those of a trapped animal. You’d use those, she gestured at the medusas, and I can’t. Not now. I’m not ready. She stood up, fastening her blacksuit with sharp, jerky motions, not meeting TiCara’s eyes as the pilot sat up slowly and reached out a hand toward her.

  TiCara tried to find the words to persuade Sherin to stay but the other woman fled before she could say anything, running out of the lounge and leaving the pilot staring after her.

  Chapter 7

  Erol looked out at the starfields and swore quietly to himself, once he knew TiCara was out of earshot. He’d left corp work because the choices got too hard. Or tru tell, they were making him too
hard. Signing on with TiCara had begun with what he thought was a small lie, but now it was becoming a weight heavy enough to drag him down into much bigger ones.

  No, not a lie: a betrayal. She thought he signed on with her because he was a junior corp pilot with no hope of advancement. She thought she had made him a better offer as a Second on the Astra, that he was taking a step up by signing on with her. And in a way, he was. But she had never asked many questions about his former position, his past or why a berth on her ship had looked so much better to him than what he had before.

  Now, someone was reminding him of the choices he had made to get here and that reminder burned through him, searing through this new life he had built himself and razing it down to the foundations. He kicked the bottom of the comm board, aiming for a section where he could do no damage. The least he could do for TiCara was to keep her ship intact..

  Of course, if he fulfilled this new betrayal that they demanded of him, a dented comm board would be the least of the Pilot-Captain’s problems. Not that they let him in on all their plans, but he could guess. And what would be his fate or Arnelle’s, once he told them where they were going and gave them the coordinates they wanted so badly? It didn’t fill him with optimism, no matter what angle he checked.

  He’d helped the Ears exert that kind of pressure before, back in his old life. He knew how it ended. A wave of nausea swept through him. He should have warned Arnelle before they left, should have told TiCara, should have done something! But it was too late, at least for now.

  Even without that implicit threat hanging over him, he could only act once he found out where they were going. That thought twisted through him; he should have known by now. TiCara had trusted him before this trip, so why not now? He knew her well enough to know when she was withholding tell, knew well enough to recognize how rare that was. Like now.

  It was easy enough to see what made this trip different from their usual run. He cataloged what he had seen of their passengers so far and his eyes narrowed. The old man was more than he seemed to be, clearly richer and more influential than TiCara had described him. He must have enjoined silence on TiCara, told her not to tell anyone. The emphasis on secrecy and speed before they left Kyrin made that much plain.