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“Sure thing, big fella.” I let the words do the eye roll for me as I turned for the gangway before he could dress the lie up any nicer.

This ship was screaming, and I wanted my hands on her more than I wanted his bullshit excuses. They’d only get in my way.

“Is there anything on this ship that puts us at risk?” Tambi’s gaze was narrowed as she watched Rennick for signs of more lies. Her bullshit detector must have dinged, too.

“I’ve been on here for a month and survived.”

“That’s not an answer,” I said. “You’re built to take a hit.”

“I can take a hit,” Monica said with a wicked grin. “Especially on certain parts of my anatomy.”

“You fine working on a sentient ship that just screamed and tantrum-slams doors?” I cocked an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged. “If all it does is slam doors and sing heartbreak tunes at me, I can deal with that.”

“You’re safe with me,” Rennick said. “I won’t let anything bad happen to any of you.”

“I doubt you can guarantee that.” Tambi nudged past him. “But we have two point six million reasons to scope this out and let you know what we’re dealing with. Let’s go.”

The corridor swallowed the outside noise the farther we moved into the ship, leaving only clean recycled air with a scorched sugar scent that was Rennick’s. I’d inhaled a lungful when pressed underneath his bulk, and didn’t hate it. The deck gave off a low, steady warmth under my boots as I walked.

This wasn’t my first sentient ship fix, but this one felt different. This girl was struggling, but she was still a stunner. Gold-veined light strips ran along the ceiling, grown into the resin, a detail that told me exactly what this ship cost. The walls were warm under my palm, and a soft pulse beat against my hand when I touched them.

“You feel that?” I flattened my hand against the wall and waited to see how the ship would react to my touch.

Monica was right behind me, not remotely interested in the wall. “I’m not feeling anything. I’m still thinking.”

“About the spooky singing?”

“Not that! About how fast you hit the deck with that piece of perfection between your thighs.” She elbowed my ribs, glancing over her shoulder to ensure Rennick hadn’t heard.

I shrugged, like I was unbothered, but I had every detail locked in. Rennick’s muscles pressing up against me wasn’t a feeling a woman who’d gone too long without getting thoroughly laid forgot. He’d been hard everywhere. And those eyes, the pupils dilating as he’d seen me. Fuck, he was hot.

“You were underneath him for way too long.” Doc caught up on my other side. “Which is no judgment. He’s built like a war supply ship. Big, broad, and powerful. Yum.”

“Keep it clean. He’s a client,” Tambi muttered, without looking up from her tablet as she studied the ship’s schematics.

“A fine client. What did you call him? Big fella?” Doc didn’t miss a beat.

“Professional distance reminder. Make sure to keep it.” Tambi still hadn’t looked up. “We’re getting paid two point six million to fix a ship, not inventory the owner and have his cute babies.”

“They would be such cute babies! And I can multitask.” Doc grinned at me. “Can’t you, Cass? Was that what you were doing when he had you pinned? Ship inventory and hot alien inventory? Which one do you prefer?”

“Why not have both?” Monica asked. “She can.”

I didn’t dignify any of it with an answer, mostly because they weren’t wrong about Rennick being the kind of guy I’d love to climb, lick, chew on, and ride like a nuclear-powered motorbike.

Rennick was catastrophically hot. All that warm skin and scorched-sugar smell coming off him made me want to lick him to see if he tasted as good as I imagined, and getting flattened under him hadn’t been the worst thirty seconds of my week. And it wouldn’t be terrible to experience it again, with no clothes on and my pervy crewmates not whooping or leering.

I liked a gorgeous problem in my bed exactly as much as I liked one that needed defusing. But I always walked out of the bedroom in one piece. Nobody got to keep me, human or otherwise, no matter how good he smelled, how hard those muscles were, or how well he fucked.

Lusting after Rennick wasn’t what I was here for. This ship had my attention, and she was humming under my hand like she was trying to speak but couldn’t land the words. Or she knew she was in trouble but didn’t know how to fix it.

“Don’t worry, angel. That’s where we come in,” I whispered against the wall.

The corridor narrowed ahead of a bulkhead seam, and we had to walk single file, ribbed resin giving way to a strip of polished bronze trim along the floor. My shoulder ended up flush against Rennick’s arm for a second, heat coming off him. I thought about the deck again. About how good it had felt with all that weight pinning me down.

Damn! I needed to get laid. Or maybe I could screw him once to get him out of my system. It wasn’t Rennick I needed. It was my lack of getting slammed that was the problem. I should visit the bar tonight, find someone easy to hook up with. Fucking a client could get messy, and messy was off the table.