“Now,” he beckoned impatiently, and I followed. He pointed the disc towards the door behind me. Locking it? Locking Cair out? That made sense, but a sliver of unease developed as Xelthar crossed the space in three long strides and stopped where the room naturally drew the eye. I scanned for the disc reader he’d used to lock the door and came up empty, the clothing still bunched in my hands.
The lightweight material reminded me of quick-dry fabric from Earth. I moaned with pleasure as I slid the dark-blue shirt over my head and it glided across my shoulders, brushing skin still sensitive from the interrogation. Xelthar paused in his activity at the glowing console across the bridge from where I’d remained just inside the door. He watched me step into the matching long pants and pull them up. I sighed in relief as the fabric covered my exposed skin. His focus, despite the urgency, earned an eye roll. Males were the same everywhere in the galaxy. Before I could offer a smart-ass comment, the fabric distracted me by tingling and then resizing itself to a perfect fit. Cool. My comfort level skyrocketed just from being clothed again. I didn’t have shoes, so that still sucked.
Xelthar had returned to whatever he was doing at the console. I crossed the ten feet between us on the bridge and stood beside him, his large body dwarfing mine. The cold floor felt like I imagined it might feel to stand barefoot inside a refrigerator.
“You said you could get me back to Earth?” My voice cracked slightly, betraying both hope and residual tension. The inflection at the end of my statement turned it into a clear question.
“Of course,” he said, fingers flying over the console. “I just need the coordinates aligned with the quantum stabilizers—oh, and ignore the blinking lights; those are purely decorative.” Iblinked at him. Decorative? On a spaceship? My brain protested. Decorative?!
A low hum began and a glimmer of hope rose within me. “How long will it take to get there?” Maybe this crazy, erotic nightmare would end soon. Then Xelthar and Cair could sort their issues without me. Even with the ship humming beneath my feet, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being inside a giant metal trap, stomping that glimmer of hope. Was Cair already plotting to cut through these doors? Maybe I’d underestimated just how smart—and vengeful—these aliens could be. I bit my lip, chastising myself for thinking like a sci-fi show extra.
Xelthar mumbled something indecipherable while his hands moved atop the console too fast for me to follow. The lights flickered on the bridge, and the low hum intensified.
“Is that normal?” I asked with a slight squeak, swiveling my head to take it all in. The walls pressed close, controls jammed into the front section where we stood. The designers clearly meant the spaceship to be manned (aliened? I snorted inside my head) by a single pilot.
A slight vibration surrounded us, and then a gentle force pushed against me.
“We have jumped,” Xelthar said.
My sense of unease blared an alarm. I wrapped my arms around my midsection, wishing I had shoes—or some sense of balance. “Jumped? Is that what just happened? Weren’t we still in Earth’s orbit?” My stomach flipped as if I’d stepped off a roller coaster.
Xelthar captured one of my hands in his. “Emily Nichols, I promise I will return you to Earth.”
That didn’t sound like an immediate action. I snatched my hand back and stumbled away from him. “When are you returning me to Earth?”
He spread his hands wide. “I cannot risk Cair Anas taking me to Vadhea.” His voice almost sounded sorrowful. Almost.
“What does that mean?” Dread mingled with cold air to goose-pimple my skin.
He uttered, “You will see,” before another gentle pressure pushed against me. The lights flickered again, and the engine’s rumbling decreased in volume until absolute silence remained. Only the eerie metallic sheen of the bridge remained.
“Where are we?” I shouted my question, then spun to face the window over the console. Nothing out of the window had appeared to change during our so-called jump. I thought we’d see space passing by at warp speed or something, but that information from Earth’s entertainment seemed wrong.
“Not far from Earth,” he hedged.
“Where are we?” I repeated, biting off each word.
“Listen,” he said, his voice smarmy. “I just need to meet my colleagues here.” His gaze flicked to the console. “Once they arrive, I will set the coordinates to return this ship to Earth.”
“Sure, because after you’re gone, Cair is just going to release me.” Sarcasm dripped from my statement.
“He might need to finish his interrogation,” Xelthar began, taking a step toward me, “but since you did not know me before last night, you should be able to pass.” He stared down at me with hooded eyes, then wrapped my left shoulder in his right hand. “You seemed to enjoy the interrogation.” Fingers kneaded my skin through the fabric as he continued speaking, distracting me. “Although if you would like, I can help you release the tension from the interrogation.”
“What the fuck?” I wrenched free of his hand that gripped my shoulder and pressed my palms against the mesh shirt covering his broad chest.
Before I could push him away, hoping the element of surprise might assist like with Cair in the brig, Xelthar’s meaty handsremoved mine from his chest. With a tight hug, he restrained them behind my back, pulling me closer, his breath hot on my face.
I stared up at him, unable to speak around the cotton balls in my mouth. He kept my wrists controlled with one hand and withdrew the other from behind me.
“Let me help you release the tension.” He growled this as his free hand lifted to my face. He ran his knuckles along my jawline before cupping my face and tilting my head back.
Was he going to kiss me? I didn’t want that. But he wasn’t wrong. The unreleased desire from the earlier interrogation roared up at his touch. No. I wouldn’t succumb.
Xelthar rubbed his thumb along my lower lip, prying my mouth open and inserting the digit. He waited for my response.
Tempted to bite the finger off his fucking hand, I gave him nothing.
He sighed and withdrew the finger. “Playing hard to get?” He used his hand holding my wrists behind me to press on the small of my back, forcing my groin into his hard body. His other hand trailed down the prison shirt, pausing to roughly cup my breast and tweak my nipple.
