Domik
Earth. The planet he’d heard so much about spun peacefully below them, Domik transfixed as he watched through the small window of the shuttle’s galley. He could see why CJ spoke so fondly of her home planet. It was beautiful.
He turned his attention to the woman in question, sitting across from him at the small table. Sergeant Clodagh Jones of Earth’s Space Force. Battlefield medic and the only woman Domik had ever felt more than a passing interest in. A mere slip of a woman compared to Domik, who stood almost eight feet tall, but what she lacked in size she made up for in attitude. And, in the year that he’d known her, his feelings for her had grown from mere interest to raging inferno.
He had tried fighting his feelings, to no avail. His limited experience with women—human or otherwise—had him questioning every interaction with her, no matter how small, until the only thing he was certain of was that she tolerated his company.
But he wanted more. So much more. If only he could be certain that she returned his feelings.
He watched her, committing every small movement to memory to play back later when he was alone. She was so cute when her face screwed up in concentration when they played chess, oblivious to Domik’s stare. A small frown line divided her delicately arched blond eyebrows, her chin propped on her hand as she stared at the pieces on the board in front of her.
And… there it was. Like a lightning bolt, desire shot through him. Domik shifted in his seat, his knee banging on the underside of the table and drawing a sharp look from CJ as the pieces on the chessboard wobbled.
“Sorry,” he said.
Domik was notorious for being calm, and his own brother had even called him unemotional on more than one occasion. But not around CJ. She got under his skin—had captivated him, body and soul. And Domik had no idea what to do about it.
His lips thinned into a line as he fought against what was now a familiar, and frustrating, sense of uncertainty. Until he had met CJ, he had always known what to do. His childhood had been filled with advanced classes, then tutors, until he had exceeded the ability of even the most knowledgeable of his teachers. His parents enrolled him at the best Taurean university, but he had been so much younger than the other students that he had nothing in common with them.
Loneliness had become expected. He had spent most of his life surrounded by people who didn’t understand him. And he’d never had a sexual encounter that lasted longer than one night, let alone an actual relationship. He was attracted to women, sure, but he did not know how to even begin when he had feelings for someone. Let alone the passion he held for CJ. So he had defaulted to being her friend. And now he was stuck, afraid to ask for more lest he lose her completely.
Domik sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. It was quiet in the galley. The only sounds were the gentle hum of the engines and the distant conversation of Zac, Laila, T’arq and Krystal who were in the cockpit just down the hall. The small eating area where they sat was the only common area in the shuttle—the only place with a table to set up a chess set—and the spot where CJ and Domik waged war.
Domik had lost count of how many games they had played over the past few months. They had played one day on the Starship Zataras, shortly after the Taureans and humans had joined forces against the evil insectoid Xakul race. CJ had traded for it with another human, as happened when luxury items were in short supply, and it had become their thing.
Warmth flooded his chest as he watched the slender human deliberate over her next move. He had learnt so much about her playing this game. She was naturally quite cautious, often taking a long time to decide on her move, but once she decided, she stuck to it. Like now. There was only one move she could make and still have a chance of winning. Domik had planned it that way, and in hindsight, it would have been easier to just win. Losing at chess on purpose was much harder than winning. Especially when his opponent wasn’t actually any good at the game. Or any game of strategy.
But he didn’t care about winning. At least not against her.
She lifted her head from her hand and pursed her lips as she moved her rook, sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. She lifted her chin, her hazel eyes flashing a challenge as they met his. Her high cheekbones, pointed chin, and the way she kept her mop of blond hair cropped short gave her an almost ethereal appearance. But looks could be deceiving. She might look fragile, but she was far from it, even though she sometimes didn’t believe that herself.
Domik scowled in mock thought as he gazed at the chessboard on the table in front of him. In reality, he’d decided what move to make within seconds of CJ moving her rook, but he treasured these quiet moments they shared.
The hum of the shuttle’s engine was the only sound in the small galley, apart from their breathing. And the quiet tapping of CJ’s short nails on the polished metal tabletop. The walls were the same dull gray color of the Taurean fleet vessels, though the cushions that padded the benches were bright purple. Domik had wondered at that, and T’arq, who was the shuttle’s pilot, had just laughed when he’d asked about it. The table where they sat was bolted to the floor and around it were bench seats in a U shape. On the opposite wall to the table was a bench with a replication machine to make food and storage cupboards. All in all, it was a pretty standard shuttle.
Tap. Tap tap. Tap.CJ’s nails drummed an impatient beat.
Domik forced himself to not smile. He never smiled. But lately it had been harder and harder to maintain his stoic facade. At least around CJ.
Domik lifted his hand from the edge of the table, letting it hover over the chessboard as if in hesitation. The tapping of CJ’s nails ceased, and Domik flicked a look toward her, his dark, almost black, eyes taking in the bright hazel of hers for a long moment, before looking back at the chessboard. He pressed his lips into a thin line, hand still hovering over the board, before his deep bronze fingers reached slowly toward one of his pieces.
A slight gasp from CJ stayed his hand, and Domik pressed his lips tighter together to stop the grin that was bursting to spread across his face. He picked up the knight and moved it into place. She would have no option but to declare check now.
“Honestly, Domik. You’d think that after all these months of me teaching you how to play that you wouldn’t get caught like this anymore.” CJ’s voice was a light trill across his skin. Her words, even exasperated as they were, sending waves of pleasure through him. He barely managed a non-committal mumble in reply. “Check,” she said with a triumphant grin.
He watched as she sat back in on the bench seat opposite him, arms crossed over the dark gray of her flight suit, as she waited for him to make his move. Her short, white-blond hair sticking up at odd angles where earlier she had run her hands through it. He’d learnt she called the style a pixie cut, though Domik did not know what a mythical human creature had to do with hair. Her lips, a pale pink he found fascinating compared to the bronze of his own, quirked as she winked at him.
“C’mon, big guy. Show me what you’ve got.”
Domik’s eyes widened slightly at that. Surely she didn’t—
“Oh! Not like that,” she said, her smile dropping as she waved a hand at the chessboard. “Your next move.”
Domik shifted slightly on the seat. He had shown no sign of his thoughts, and yet she had known. This was not good.
CJ cleared her throat and looked away, rubbing her arms as if cold, and swallowing. Domik dropped his hand to adjust the rather uncomfortable bulge that had grown at the mention of showing her—but no. Not going there. She wouldn’t be interested. She was all sunshine and brightness, while he was the exact opposite.
Enough women had propositioned him over the years for him to know how they saw him. All they saw was his colossal size and wanted to see what he was like in bed. And when he had an itch, he scratched it. But it never satisfied the deep ache in his chest. Domik craved a connection with one person—one soul—that went beyond just a physical encounter. He wanted to be loved. By her.
