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Her body ignited, and she dropped her head back, clinging to Striker as he stroked and explored her. His palm slid over her clit, and he rubbed and stimulated her until she was gasping and couldn’t see straight.

He tugged her jumpsuit to her waist and eased the straps of her bra down with his teeth. He kissed her breasts through the fabric.

How she wished she had something sexier on, but it didn’t seem to bother Striker. The heavy erection in his pants suggested he wanted what was underneath the clothing anyway.

His fingers easily slid inside, making her gasp at the exquisite tremors pulsing through her. He already knew exactly what she loved.

She leaned back across the desk and opened her legs.

Striker hungrily took her mouth as his fingers stroked her, making her wetter and shake even more.

His low growl and urgent tongue had her thrusting against his palm.

“Oh, stars! Yes!” She jerked against him, bucking and writhing as he added another finger and circled her clit.

Wren’s orgasm hit. She grabbed Striker and kissed him like her life depended on it as her body tensed and shivered.

She opened her eyes. She was splayed out on the desk, her legs wide, her chest heaving, and Striker was looking down at her with a mixture of lust and pride in his eyes.

“Are you feeling proud of yourself?” She couldn’t help but laugh. That orgasm had been out of this world amazing.

“I will when you’ve done that a dozen times. And next time, I want you coming with me inside you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted him so badly. “Then what are you waiting for?”

He dropped between her legs and was yanking off her boots when an alarm rang out.

Wren jumped and sat up.

“All alpha crew to the briefing room.” Cleo’s sharp tone rang out over the speakers.

“Sorry for disturbing you, but your privacy request had to be overridden,” ELVIS said. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”

Striker groaned, but he was climbing to his feet. “Only the best moment of my life.”

Wren leaped off the desk and zipped herself up. “Cleo only brings us all together in an emergency. What’s wrong?”

He grabbed her hand and kissed the knuckles. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

***

As they jogged to the mission briefing room, Striker stuck close to Wren. The memory of her laid out on the desk, ready for him, made him hard. He ached to pin her against the nearest wall and finish what they’d started.

He only dropped her hand a second before they walked into the mission briefing room. Whatever was going on between them was new and intense, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He definitely didn’t know how Wren felt about it.

They settled in their usual seats. Cleo and the others were already there.

Cleo looked around the room, her shoulders tense. “We received a message a short while ago. The Gente bounty hunters Wren and Striker encountered weren’t operating alone.”

“There was another ship?” Striker said, glancing over at Wren.

“That’s right. The Gentes’ buddies are looking for the cargo we acquired. They want it back.”

“Tell them to go screw themselves,” Georgia said. “They’re not getting their hands on those animals.”

“I agree,” Cleo said. “There’s no way we’re handing them over. We’ve been looking into the Gente transport routes. They hunt around until they have a cargo full of animals to trade then go to Diagorg and sell them.”

Wren’s nose wrinkled. “That place is disgusting. It’s not even licensed. It’s been shut down a dozen times.”