the
planet, but he was apparently content with his freedom. He'd never
be the man who could, or would, give her the stable home she
wanted. Unlike even a wild terra-goose, he wasn't the kind to mate
for life.
No, once he delivered her to Branch,
she'd thank him and say goodbye, smiling if it killed her. And it
might. Oh, she should never have kissed him, never have made love
with him, or lain in the shadows, sharing secrets from their
pasts.
Rose shook off her angst. She would
take a cue from him, the master of serial liaisons, and enjoy this
while it lasted.
"How about a snack?" Jark
offered.
He activated a small hover-tray between
the seats and pulled out a hot pack of whole grain breakfast bars.
Rose accepted one without enthusiasm, but when she opened her
packet and saw the plump, fragrant roll, smelling of cinnamon and
berries, she realized she was hungry. She much preferred to bake
her own treats when she could, but these would do
nicely.
She wriggled into a more comfortable
position in Stone’s lap and settled back to enjoy her breakfast.
When she was done, she sipped her coffee as the men ate a second
bar each and talked.
Alert and replete, she actually quite
liked her perch. If only Farah and their cooking school friends
could see her now, wearing designer clothing and riding in a fast
new cruiser with two dangerous males. Their eyes would be
wide.
There was something about being held by
a big, strong male that made one feel very feminine and cared for.
Even though it was a false security that would last only until they
landed in Adamant. And then she probably wouldn't see Masterson
again. She'd thrown herself at him, but he wasn't the kind of man
to come back for more. The thought of never being held like this
again made her want to turn in his arms and wind her own around his
neck, hold on tight.
When they finished with breakfast, Rose
tucked their wrappers into the trash receptacle Jark pointed out.
Then she leaned back in Stone's arms. He'd demanded she sit on his
lap. Perhaps it was time to tease him a little. He'd certainly
teased her last night, pretending to be her prisoner. She was still
miffed by the ease with which he fooled her.
She ran her fingers through her hair,
finger-combing it as if her thoughts were on anything but
him.
She smiled to herself. They were
trapped in this cockpit with another man for the next few hours. No
matter how turned on Masterson got, he could do nothing about it.
He couldn't seduce her as he had last night, or convince her to
seduce him.
Rose continued her slow torture for the
better part of an hour. She wriggled a bit, laid her hand over his
and played with his cuff, shifted again as if not quite
comfortable. She stroked the powerful arm curved around her,
learning the shape of his muscle and tendon through the soft
cashmere. To her satisfaction, a long, stiff shape began to prod
her bottom through the layers of their clothing. She shifted again,
rubbing herself on him in a slow, silent tease.
Unfortunately, her torment worked both
ways. Even though her pussy was tender and she had bruises on the
inside of her thighs, she craved that hard cock inside her again,
and him in her arms. But the needy heat between her thighs was
worth it to torment him.
Finally his arm tightened. He tipped
his head down beside hers. "You know exactly what you're doing to
me, don't you, you little cock-tease?" he whispered, following his
words with a nip on her tender earlobe.
Rose looked out the window, pretending
his whisper didn't shiver clear through her body. She
shrugged.
He stroked one big hand down the
tumbled waves of her hair, and gave it a sharp tug. "Didn't occur
to you, did it, that this ship has a lot more to it than a
cockpit?"
Rose froze as his words sank in. His
body shook with soundless laughter. Then he grabbed the safety
harness, unbuckled it and pushed it aside.
"We're goin' aft for a bit," he told
Jark.
Jark looked over at them with interest
but said
David LaRochelle
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Marcus Johnson
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Lee Goldberg