body for the next few hours, but what about afterward? She didn’t know what would be worse: if he dismissed her, or if he wanted something more. She had no desire for anything lasting, anyone that wanted true intimacy.
And he was 8th Wing. The other side of the law.
Complicated. Too complicated. She wanted simplicity. That’s what her life had been about, ever since leaving Argenti.
She broke away from his gaze. “I keep a hovermattress, in case of emergencies.” From one of the bulkheads, she pulled out the compacted mattress, then tossed it toward him. “It should fit in the galley.”
He caught the foil-wrapped mattress, his expression of disappointment disappearing almost as soon as it appeared. “This’ll work. The conditions are better than camping in the marshes of Jenufa Ten.”
“You’ve done that?”
He nodded.
“Doesn’t Jenufa Ten have blood-drinker moths the size of cats?”
“The size of dogs, actually. Big dogs.”
Mara shuddered. “I run a cleansing protocol every half a quarter, so there shouldn’t be any blood-drinker moths. Maybe a dirtroach or two.” She grinned.
He smiled back. “I’ll keep my plasma pistol handy.”
Well, hell, if he was going to be charming, he wasn’t going to make this mission any easier. She hit the light controls, engaging the sleep protocol. The lights dimmed. She started to edge toward her quarters, feeling strangely awkward. “Not used to guests. Is there, uh, anything else you need? Some sleep clothes?”
“When I’m on duty, I sleep with my pants and boots on. Off duty, I usually sleep naked.”
Images filled her mind. His bare flesh, the clean, solid form of his body. The tight sleeveless shirt he wore proved how fit he was, and without the shirt, she would see the planes of his chest and ridges of his abdomen, the muscles trailing lower. She wondered if his chest was smooth or haired, and what both textures would feel like against her skin.
“I sleep naked too,” she whispered.
His breath came in a sharp rasp, his eyes blazed with dark fire. In his tight grip, the packaging around the mattress tore. The noise was the sound of control being slowly torn apart.
“If you want to sleep alone, go now.”
A hot thrill shot through her, centering at the tips of her breasts and between her legs. What would it be like to have his warrior’s intensity focused on her? She did and didn’t want to know.
Without another word, she turned and bolted to her quarters. There was no door—no reason to have one when the ship was hers alone. She debated for a moment whether or not to take off her clothes. The Arcadia was small enough so that he’d be able to hear her undressing. A little voice taunted her. Get naked, let him listen to you strip. Tease him. Maybe he’ll join you.
Shut up, she snarled to her inner voice.
She took off her jacket, removed her boots, had another moment’s debate, and then shucked her pants. That was as far as she could take it. Her tank top and panties stayed on. Anything else would be too much of a temptation. Already she found herself straining to listen to him, hearing him move through the galley and unfold the hovermattress.
She waited, holding her breath, for the tell-tale sounds of clothes being stripped off. His shirt, at least, since he was on duty. Curiosity gripped her.
As silently as possible, she crept from her quarters and padded down the short passageway that lead to the galley. She peered around the corner.
He sat on the edge of the hovermattress, his knuckles braced against his knees. He stared straight ahead at the bulkhead. He’d removed his shirt, but, true to his word, kept his pants and boots. Oh, that was a torso to be inscribed in the stars. Hard and carved and meant for both combat and pleasure, dusted with dark hair. A few scars crisscrossed his bronzed skin. She stared at the gorgeous contours of his arms, the muscles tight with strain as if he barely held himself in check. She wanted those arms around her, holding her down as he took what she wanted to offer.
He didn’t turn his head. “Unless you want me to bed you, I suggest you go back to your quarters immediately.” His voice was more growl than words, and she felt herself grow damp.
Even so, she ran back to her quarters, bare feet slapping against the metal floor, then threw herself into her bed. Her heart pounded in time to the needy pulse between her legs as