Raaze stood in the doorway, fresh from the shower, water still beading on his tanned skin and tracing paths down the hard planes of his chest and abs. His hair was slicked back, dark and gleaming, and a towel clung low on his hips. Barely knotted, it threatened to slip with every shift of those powerful thighs.
Scars stood out pale against his damp skin… older ones from his time playing, and newer ones that must be from Parac’Norr. He smelled of ship’s soap and pure male, a scent that hit her straight in the gut.
“Working hard?” he asked, lips quirking at the corners in a way that made her stomach do back flips.
“I—yes. Planning. For the arena.” She scrambled to retrieve the tablet. “Security layouts, credentials, that sort of thing.”
“Important work.” He nodded seriously, but his eyes danced with amusement. “But I think you’ve done enough for today.”
“I’ve barely started?—”
In two strides, he crossed the room and scooped her up in his arms. She squeaked, actually squeaked, a sound she hadn’t made since she was twelve, as he lifted her effortlessly.
“No more work,” he announced, carrying her toward the bed.
“Raaze! Put me down!” she giggled in protest, clinging to his shoulders.
“As you wish,” he said, dropping her onto the mattress.
She bounced, looking up at him towering over her. Water droplets fell from his hair onto her shirt, dark spots blooming on the fabric.
“You’re getting me wet,” she complained.
His grin turned wicked. “That was the plan.”
Before she could respond to that, he was crawling over her, one knee on the bed, hands braced on either side of her head. The towel slipped a fraction lower. Her hands came up automatically, her palms flattening against his still damp chest and feeling the steady beat of his heart. Heat radiated off him, chasing away the recycled chill of the ship.
“You’ve been watching me,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that she felt in her bones.
“You knew I was watching.”
“I did.” He lowered his head until his lips hovered just above hers. “I liked it.”
“I noticed,” she breathed.
His mouth crashed down over hers. The kiss started demanding, his mouth hot and sure, tongue sweeping in like he owned the territory. Owned her. She responded immediately, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He tasted like mint and smelled like the ship’s standard-issue soap, but underneath was something uniquely him… spice and heat and all male.
The towel was damp against her clothes as he pressed his body to hers. His weight over her should have panicked her, but it grounded her, anchoring her when she felt like she might float away on a tide of sensation.
He broke the kiss just enough to trail his mouth along her jaw, then lower. He used those sharp canines to graze her pulse point, not breaking the skin and sending shivers down her spine.
Her back arched off the bunk as lips brushed her collarbone. Then the swell of her breast through thin fabric. Lower still, mapping a path.
His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, pushing it up to expose her stomach.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he murmured against her skin. “Watching you watching me. Knowing what you were thinking.”
“You don’t know what I was thinking,” she managed, her voice shaky.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her. “Don’t I?”
His mouth moved, and she couldn’t stop the small sound that escaped her when he nipped at her ribs, couldn’t stop her legs from parting to make room for his bulk between them.
“I was thinking about the mission,” she insisted weakly.
“Liar.” He slid his hands under her top, pushing it up over her breasts. She gasped as her nipples beaded instantly in the cooler air. “You were thinking about my hands.”
As if to prove his point, his fingers traced patterns around her nipples, each touch sending sparks through her nerves.
