“Excuse me,” she said tightly.
“In a minute.” He crossed his arms and studied her face. The flush had spread to her cheeks now, and she was looking at a point somewhere past his left shoulder like the bulkhead rivets were suddenly fascinating. “Got a question first.”
“I’m busy.”
“Did you enjoy the show?”
Her whole body went rigid, her eyes widening, and the flush going from pink to deep red in the space of a heartbeat. Guilt filled her eyes even as soon as she shook her head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Draanth, she couldn’t even get through the sentence without her voice cracking.
“Sure you don’t.” He let the silence stretch, watching her squirm. “Cargo bay. Decon shower. Ring any bells?”
“I was checking the—” She stopped. Opened her mouth, closed it, then swallowed and tried again. “Uhhh, yeah… the temperature regulators were?—”
“Flagging a minor fluctuation. Yeah, I know.” He dropped his arms and took a step closer. She pressed back against the wall, but there was nowhere to go. “Funny thing about that. The fluctuation cleared itself about thirty seconds after you pulled up the visual feed. But you kept watching for another… what? Ten minutes? Fifteen?”
The sound she made wasn’t quite a word. He enjoyed it anyway.
“I know where every camera on this ship is, kelarris.” He took another step closer, close enough to feel the heat of her skin against his even through their clothes, and to see the frantic pulse fluttering in the hollow of her throat. Gods, she was so tiny and delicate. “I clocked them in my first hour aboard. I spent my whole career being watched… stadiums, media drones, fans in every corner with their recording lenses. I know what a camera looks like, and I can hear them. And I know when one’s active.”
Her eyes finally snapped to his face, eyes wide. “You knew.”
“I knew.”
“The whole time.”
“Every second.”
The words landed, and he watched the mortification wash over her features. If it had been just that, just embarrassment… then he would have stepped back. Then her pupils blew wide and dark, her breathing catching in her throat, and heat rolled through him as his cock thickened against his thigh. Yeah, she was into him. “You could have closed that feed any time you wanted, but you didn’t.”
“You’re an arsehole.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I am.”
He closed the last of the distance between them, planting one hand flat against the bulkhead beside her head. The other came up to cup her jaw… the same move she’d pulled on him two days ago, only now he was the one steering.
Her breath shuddered out.
“Tell me to stop, kelarris.”
She didn’t.
Her eyes stayed locked on his. She didn’t move or push him away. All she did was stand there with her chest rising and falling too fast, her lips parted, and her whole body trembling like she was holding herself back by a thread.
He kissed her.
Not the controlled little peck she’d given him in the cockpit. This was the kiss he’d been thinking about since the landing pad, ever since he’d watched her crawl out from under that hull with grease on her cheek and defiance in her eyes.
His hand slid from her jaw to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in the hair at her nape. He pulled her up against his larger, harder body and kissed her like he was starving. Like she was air and he’d been drowning. Like every moment of the last two days had been foreplay, and he was finally, finally collecting.
She melted against him.
One second, she was rigid against the wall, and the next, her hands fisted in his jacket, holding him close. Her lips parted under his, and she kissed him back with an eager desperation that almost buckled his knees. Her tongue slid against his, hot and eager, and the small sound she made in the back of her throat went straight to his cock.
Draanth, she tasted so good. Sweet and sharp, with another thread underneath it. A note that was just her.
