“This is your level.” Mori waved them off the lift. They exited into a circular anteroom off which four suites were located.
A slender, pseudo-amphibian male with pale green skin, gills, and nasal slits exited the suite across from theirs. Dressed in head-to-toe black leather, he looked to be a native of the Tau Ceti solar system and wore his leathers with confidence. At the sight of Susa, the man stopped dead in his tracks, his nasal slits flaring as his tongue tasted the air. The soon-to-be blinded amphibious fucker took in her appearance with several drawn-out leering glances. The man licked his bulbous excuse for a mouth as if Susa were a tasty exotic treat brought on board specifically to titillate his appetite.
In no way would Damon allow that to happen … ever. He’d have to warn Frog Face off.
After Mori escorted Susa into their assigned suite, Damon took the opportunity to shove the pseudo-amphibian bastard into the wall and then, in a low, venomous tone, uttered, “Mine.”
Damon followed the warning with a fisted hand to the man’s gut, an action that couldn’t be misunderstood in any culture.
The coughing male nodded and quickly moved into the still-open lift. Tau Cetans as a rule were easily subdued, even dominant ones. However, there’d be others on board who’d have taken Damon’s warning as an invitation to fight. Good thing Damon was used to fighting territorial battles. He did it all the time on his jump station.
In hindsight, taking this cruise might not have been the best idea.
But it was too late now—the ship’s decks hummed and vibrated as the massive starship left the Tooh 2 space dock—they were already underway.
All Damon could do now was be vigilant.
As he entered the suite, he heard, “My personal steward unpacked for you.” Mori’s fawning tone had Damon gritting his teeth.
“I’ve also taken the liberty to have your kitchen stocked with the best liquors and wine and some tempting snacks.” Mori addressed Susa’s cleavage. “If you need anything, please do not hesitate to call and ask.”
Images of Geep biting the captain and Mori lying on the floor writhing in pain flickered through Damon’s mind. He and the Ragbag were in agreement where the lascivious captain was concerned.
As Susa’s designated protector, Damon’s first priority once the lecherous Mori left would be to see that Susa changed into something that covered and hid her many attributes. Because if Damon wanted to strip the outfit off her and lick her from top to bottom and back—several times with pauses at specific spots in between—then others on this ship who favored females would want to do the same.
That outfit, and any others like it, would be locked inside his luggage for the duration of the trip. Once they reached the jump station, her protection would become Borac’s responsibility. Knowing his partner, Susa wouldn’t be allowed to wear the sexy clothing on their jump station, either. If asked, Damon’s vote would back that decision one hundred percent.
“I look forward to seeing you and Mr. Martin this evening at 1800 standard hours.” Mori bowed, took Susa’s hand to his lips, and lingered over it.
Did that slimy bastard lick the back of her hand?
Geep mrrfed and wiggled in the tote bag Susa had set on a chair inside the entrance to the suite. The little furball couldn’t get out fast enough to bite the bastard, which would’ve served Mori right. Maybe he and Geep should partner up to protect Susa. Geep could be with her when Damon couldn’t or shouldn’t.
Since Mori wasn’t moving his ass fast enough, and the top of Geep’s head had just breached the top of the tote bag, Damon moved forward and pulled Susa away from Mori and to his side. “Good-bye, Captain Mori.” His words were clipped.
Mori shot him a slitted glare, paled at the killing look Damon gave him in return, then inclined his head and left, but not until after he shot Susa one more blindingly white smile.
Yeah. Captain With-A-Death-Wish and he would be having a little talk soon wherein Damon would explain, in painstaking detail and possibly with a physical demonstration, of how Damon treated men who invaded the personal space of women under his protection.
Once the suite door slid shut, Damon stalked to the security panel and flipped on the extra-security and turned to face a bemused Susa who helped Geep from the tote. The Ragbag growled at the closed door and showed his fangs. He then turned to Damon and sent a telepathic image conveying Geep’s agreement to the partnership Damon hadn’t even broached yet. Yeah, Ragbags were far more intelligent than he’d given them credit for and extremely talented telepaths.
Damon gave the little furball an approving nod.
Geep scurried off to investigate the suite, or more particularly the basket of snacks on the counter separating the main sitting area from the small kitchen/bar area.
“What’s wrong, Damon?” Susa asked. “You look as if you’re ready to head into battle.”
“Stay the fuck away from Mori.”
Susa let out a throaty laugh.
The sound shot straight to his dick. The same dick he’d jacked off to a less-than-satisfying completion not two hours before boarding the Dreamcaster. His cock didn’t want his hand; it wanted Susa.
Meeting Susa had shredded his much vaunted titanium-like control into loosely woven cloth. His reaction to her was unprecedented. He’d begun to think the woman had ensorcelled him. He’d have to ask Borac, in a round-about-way, if a Prime’s psi abilities could affect a sentient being in that manner.
Susa’s amusement crinkled the corners of her amazing golden-green eyes. He fought the impulse to take her in his arms and kiss her—and replace her amused look with one of need for him. Why should he be the only one suffering?
“What’s so funny?” His tone, distinctly disgruntled.
“Your edict as to the captain.” Her breath hitched, he suspected, from stifled laughter.
“What about it? I think I was clear.” He glowered. “Stay the fuck away from Mori.”
She sighed and narrowed those glorious eyes of hers. “Damon, it’ll be hard to stay away from him. First, because he’s the captain, and we’ll run into him frequently. And, second, we’re to be his first-night guests of honor at the Captain’s Table and later are invited to play Martian Doubles in the casino with some other VIPs. I adore playing cards. When you didn’t object, I assumed you were okay with the invitation, so I accepted.” She shook her head. “You didn’t even hear the conversation.”
Giving her a steely look, he gritted out, “No.”
She nodded. “Okay, in the future, I’ll make sure to check in with you verbally on plans affecting the two of us.”
“Damn straight, you will—and all plans during this cruise will affect the two of us.”
Susa inclined her head, then moved into the walk-in closet and began going through the clothes the steward had unpacked and hung. “We can’t get out of dinner, it would be rude. But I could go to the card game by myself—”
“Not happening.” Susa alone? Away from his protection? Surrounded by Mori and an unknown number of men and women? “Where you go, I go.” He entered the large closet, more like a dressing area, and placed his hands on her shoulders, then turned her to face him. “Just when was all this arranged?”
“While we walked here, and you trailed behind like a black cloud, glaring at everyone we passed,” Susa said.
“You noticed that?” Damon asked.
“Yes,” she grinned, “women can do more than one thing at a time, unlike most males. By the way, the man in the suite across from ours turned whiter than Tooh 2 beach sand. Did you have to shove him so hard?”
Damon made a note that Susa was highly observant. Good thing she hadn’t seen him punch the guy in the gut.
“Yes. He stripped you naked with his eyes.” Damon leaned in and looked her in the eyes. “He licked his lips and tasted the air, tasted your essence. Right in front of me.”
Susa wrinkled her nose. “Welcome to my world. In my experience, he acted like a typical male. Considering the nature of this cruise, you
can’t hit every man who strips me naked with a glance, or that’s all you’ll be doing.”
She had seen him hit old Frog Face.
“Oh, yes, I can,” he muttered.
Her ensuing laughter—a low, husky sound so sensual it should be outlawed—had him thinking about making her laugh as they lazed the days and nights away pleasuring one another.
Not happening.
Turning his attention to her current actions, he glanced at the outfit she held in her hand. “Fuck, no. You aren’t wearing that anywhere near Mori.” Or anyone else.
“Damon.” She dropped the outfit to the thickly carpeted floor and placed her hands on his chest. “Please calm down. The cruise has barely begun, and you’re already overreacting to perfectly normal male behavior.”
She had a valid point, but—
“Mori was doing more than looking,” muttered Damon. “And Frog Face across the hall was imagining way more than merely seeing you naked.”
Susa sniffed, a cute little sound that made his dick jerk within the confines of his pants. “Damon, what exactly did you think would happen on a cruise of this type? And why would you even think I’d take anyone up on their unspoken offers? We’re supposed to be a couple, or at least, appear to be. That was the plan, and I’m fully supportive of that plan. The only man who’s allowed to be by my side and touch me is you. Trust me. Please?”
Relief at her words dissolved the tightness in his throat. His erection, however, throbbed and demanded the satisfaction he’d only find in her body.
That couldn’t happen. He’d keep things platonic with Susa, even if it killed him.
And it just might.
At the moment, Susa was far too close to him. Her heat, her scent, enveloped his body. Her eyes were level with his chin. She would fit against him perfectly, her curves filling his angles, and—fucking hell, she was petting him.
Damon glanced down at her hands as she smoothed the finely woven cloth of his shirt over his chest. That damnable itching over his heart flared once more. He gripped her bare arms as the room took a turn. An electrical shock sizzled between them as skin met skin.
“Breathe, Damon.” She kissed his chin, an all-too-brief touch. “Your lips are turning blue.”
Seven hells of Jupiter, the damn woman even made him forget a basic bodily function.
With every inhalation, Damon savored her scent—an exotic flowery perfume underlaid with her unique musk. He almost couldn’t blame Frog Face for tasting the air around Susa. Almost.
“That’s better.” She stroked a finger along his jaw. He went motionless at her touch. “Your jaw is all rough again. You might want to shave.” She grinned and winked. “To show how devoted a couple we are, I plan to rub my cheek against yours occasionally, and while I like the pirate look, my skin is very sensitive.”
Damon nodded. What could he say? He liked the idea of her being close to him. And if she wanted to rub her cheek over his, who was he to deny her? He might even sneak in a kiss—for the sake of their cover story, of course.
Hell, he basically liked her. The conversations they’d had during the layover on Tooh 2 had shown Susa to be intelligent and keen to learn all she could about the galaxy outside of the Cejuru solar system. She had a great sense of humor. The courage she’d displayed after being kidnapped had been unexpected, but welcome. She’d proven she could keep her head and was resourceful. And her temperament was even-toned since she’d put up with his autocratic demands much better than he’d expected.
But a long-term relationship with her wasn’t in the cards. Even if he were heart-whole, he lived on a jump station in the wild and lawless rim of the galaxy, and she lived on Cejuru Prime. The helter-skelter life on a jump station wasn’t for the likes of her, and he knew he couldn’t live in the highly ordered world of the Prime.
“No verbal comeback?” She stepped back and picked up the outfit from the floor, then shook it out. “It’s not like you to be silent when I purposely provoke you.”
“Were you being provoking?” He grunted when she smiled and nodded. He liked her teasing him. Damn it, far too much. “I was serious. You aren’t wearing that outfit outside this suite of rooms.”
Damon took it from her and placed it on his side of the closet.
She pulled it and put it back on hers. “I don’t have that many clothes. So, yes, I’ll wear it outside of this room.” She placed her fingers over his open mouth, effectively halting his next words as he fought the urge to suck on her fingers. “But, I’ll compromise and save it for a night when we walk the ship and observe all the activities. That way, you’ll be by my side to slay all dragons.”
He carefully moved the tempting fingers away from his mouth. “There will never be a night on this ship when I’m not by your side. You promised, remember?”
“Yes, I did,” she murmured. “I can take care of myself.”
Damon shook his head. “You’re too trusting. If I hadn’t been with you, Mori would’ve made a move on you as soon as you were alone with him.” He turned toward his side of the small dressing area.
“And he would’ve gotten a knee in his groin, if he had.” Susa shoved some garments aside in an angry, jerking motion and hung up the provocative dress.
Violent, cutting energy poured off her and stabbed at his skin.
Something contrary within him reveled in her anger, taking it inside and turning it into sexual desire. Whatever this something was, it caused him to reach for her with every part of his being. Exacerbating the situation, her sultry scent enveloped him and soaked into his very pores.
Damon wanted to imprint his scent on her until their essences merged. He mentally groaned at the images of exactly how he’d go about blending their scents. Turning away from her, he adjusted his erection, willing it to subside, but the recalcitrant fucker wanted what it wanted.
Fuck, he needed to jerk off in the shower … again.
No, what he really needed was to get away from the temptation that was Susa for a few minutes, even if it was just into the living area of their suite. A stiff drink wouldn’t hurt, either.
Damon turned toward her. “Why don’t you use the shower and get ready first?”
Eyes narrowed, Susa angled her head and frowned for a second or so. Just as quickly as her anger had arisen, it was gone. Her eyes glowed, and a warmth settled over him beginning at his head and ending at his chest, right over his heart.
During their time at the resort, Susa had gone out of her way to avoid escalating any tension between them—just as she’d done now. With each hour that passed, it seemed she could read his moods more accurately.
Even more disturbing, Damon could sense hers. What little empathic ability he may have possessed before—the kind developed while undercover in life-and-death situations—seemed to have grown exponentially stronger in her presence.
“Thank you, Damon. That would be nice. It will give me time to do my hair and makeup while you shower.” Susa held up a gown that would cover her arms and legs and her front from head-to-toe, but leave her back mostly bared. The fabric would cling like a second skin, but most of the clothing they’d purchased on Tooh 2 did that. It was one of the more sedate outfits in her wardrobe. “Is this better?”
“Yes, thank you.” He pulled out one of his more formal outfits, all of which she’d helped him select. While he normally hated shopping, she had made it fun. Another attribute he liked about her; he enjoyed doing anything with her. Her enthusiasm was infectious.
“Is this good enough for the first night party?” He held up the all-black tuxedo, trimmed in black leather, and the collarless white silk shirt—one he’d have never bought in a millennium—she’d insisted would go with the tux.
“Perfect.” Her voice was soft, almost purring.
Damon hung the tux and shirt on the hook next to a built-in chest and began the search for the shirt’s onyx studs. “Tonight, I’ll vet the crowds and determine who the troublemakers might be.”
“Funny, th
at was my plan also.” She sent him a wry smile. “You attracted a lot of male and female attention yourself. In case you’re interested, I didn’t like the lascivious looks cast your way, either. I’ll be your buffer, just as you’ll be mine.”
Damon reveled in the notion that she was as possessive of him as he was of her.
A piece of some kind of fruit in his mouth, Geep scurried into the dressing room and jumped onto a small vanity table. He dropped the fruit to poke through Susa’s makeup and jewelry.
She pulled a bracelet from the little furball’s mouth and scolded him gently, “No, Geep. Not food.” Then she placed a kiss on his head and handed him his fruit. She sat at the dressing table and removed the clips that held her waist-length, raven-colored hair up in an elaborate twist.
A mental image conveying a thought which Damon interpreted as “pretty” slipped through his mind. Damon’s ability to communicate with Geep had also grown stronger. This was more than the empathic connection he had with Susa, and Damon was beginning to think something had kick-started a latent telepathic ability in him.
A word sounding similar to yes wafted through his mind. He shot a glance at Geep who blinked. The Ragbag flashed his teeth, one row only, which Damon interpreted as the Ragbag’s version of a smile, then the little furball shifted his attention to one of Susa’s hair clips.
“Damon—” Susa stared at his image in the dressing table mirror. “I could be awhile.”
He moved to stand behind her. Her long, silky hair tempted him, but he managed to hold back from running his fingers through it. Instead, he bent over, his bristly cheek barely brushing hers, and captured her gaze with his. “Take your time. There’s no rush.”
Straightening, Damon turned to leave the dressing room. He needed that damn drink.
Her voice followed him into the bedroom. “Everything will be fine. I won’t stray from your side tonight or any other night while on the cruise.”
The tension which had begun to build again at the thought of the evening ahead eased at her promise. Yeah, she could read his emotions like a book. And she trusted him to keep her safe. Both those things felt … right.
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