his.
She knew it would be like this, falling into his orbit. He
had charisma that knocked her out every time, sex appeal that seeped through to
her very bones and his touch sent fire through her whole body. Treacherous
body. “No.” She owed him the truth but only about the book. Not about anything
else. Not after what he’d done, she reminded herself, firming her resolve.
He stared at her, probably trying to ensure she was telling
the truth. Insulting. “I keep my promises.”
“I might hold you to that.”
She jerked away, back into Carl’s arms. He held her tight,
her bottom pressed against the proof that alcohol in quantity didn’t slow him
down much. When she tried to break away, he held her more firmly. “Maybe we
should take this upstairs,” he said.
Donovan’s eyes sparked anger, or fury, or—something she
didn’t want to interpret. “Before you get busy, I want to talk to you.”
“Tough,” she managed, hoping she’d injected the right amount
of scorn into it. He flinched, barely perceptibly. “I’ll take Carl upstairs,
then I’ll come back down.” What had caused that flinch? Did he feel sorry? She
wouldn’t rest until she knew.
“Come to my room. You know where it is.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I can. You’re on the
security level.”
He made a sound of exasperation. “I’ll wait here, then.”
They were garnering attention. People were looking,
murmuring, their voices getting lower so they could listen in. Donovan’s eyes
lost focus for a fraction of a second. If she’d been any farther away, she
wouldn’t have seen it. He sighed. “Go. But if you don’t come down, I’ll come
after you.”
She faced him defiantly. “If you get the chance.”
Carl took a hand. “Hey, baby, you might not be down for a
while.” He turned her in his arms and grinned at Donovan. “Get your own woman.”
He glanced around. “Doesn’t look as if you’ll have to wait long.”
Then he covered her mouth with his. A soft, wet ring. Too
wet, too firm, he sucked her lips into his mouth and clamped his arms around
her.
She slammed her hands on his shoulders and pushed. Nothing.
He had some strength, more than she’d imagined. The shirt crumpled under her
hands but pressure had no effect, so she lifted her hands and brought them down
again, slapping against him. Nothing.
He licked her mouth when she refused to open for him, and
dragged her closer.
He heaved, then heaved again. Realizing what was happening,
knowing she couldn’t get away in time, she let her knees give way and dropped,
bowing her head. Better than getting it in the face.
Hot streams of a thick liquid substance poured over her head
and shoulders as the blue drink finally got the better of Carl. He bent, his
grip on her relaxing, and finally she could move away.
“Ah fuck. Stay there, Allie.” Donovan sounded calm, almost
as if he expected it. He might have seen the change in Carl before Allie had a
chance.
She didn’t want to lift her head, but the stink of vomit
surrounded her until she had to swallow her own bile.
Something dropped over her head and someone wiped and
dabbed. “We are so going upstairs,” Donovan said in a voice that invited no
argument. “Sorry, man.” That to a member of the bar staff who’d arrived on the
scene. “Can you handle it from here?” She heard a crackle as a note changed
hands.
“Come on.” Slowly, she got to her feet. Despite the mess, he
put his arm around her waist and she realized that the cloth he’d used was his
T-shirt. She felt disgusting, hated Carl at that moment. Carl Morano couldn’t
handle his alcohol. A lesson hard learned.
Donovan led her away through groups of aliens and starship
crew, all of them giving her a wide berth. Understandably. But Donovan stayed
close, curving his body protectively over her.
They stood clear of the walls in the escalator, but when she
opened her mouth to apologize, he touched her lips. “Don’t say anything.
She knew it would be like this, falling into his orbit. He
had charisma that knocked her out every time, sex appeal that seeped through to
her very bones and his touch sent fire through her whole body. Treacherous
body. “No.” She owed him the truth but only about the book. Not about anything
else. Not after what he’d done, she reminded herself, firming her resolve.
He stared at her, probably trying to ensure she was telling
the truth. Insulting. “I keep my promises.”
“I might hold you to that.”
She jerked away, back into Carl’s arms. He held her tight,
her bottom pressed against the proof that alcohol in quantity didn’t slow him
down much. When she tried to break away, he held her more firmly. “Maybe we
should take this upstairs,” he said.
Donovan’s eyes sparked anger, or fury, or—something she
didn’t want to interpret. “Before you get busy, I want to talk to you.”
“Tough,” she managed, hoping she’d injected the right amount
of scorn into it. He flinched, barely perceptibly. “I’ll take Carl upstairs,
then I’ll come back down.” What had caused that flinch? Did he feel sorry? She
wouldn’t rest until she knew.
“Come to my room. You know where it is.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I can. You’re on the
security level.”
He made a sound of exasperation. “I’ll wait here, then.”
They were garnering attention. People were looking,
murmuring, their voices getting lower so they could listen in. Donovan’s eyes
lost focus for a fraction of a second. If she’d been any farther away, she
wouldn’t have seen it. He sighed. “Go. But if you don’t come down, I’ll come
after you.”
She faced him defiantly. “If you get the chance.”
Carl took a hand. “Hey, baby, you might not be down for a
while.” He turned her in his arms and grinned at Donovan. “Get your own woman.”
He glanced around. “Doesn’t look as if you’ll have to wait long.”
Then he covered her mouth with his. A soft, wet ring. Too
wet, too firm, he sucked her lips into his mouth and clamped his arms around
her.
She slammed her hands on his shoulders and pushed. Nothing.
He had some strength, more than she’d imagined. The shirt crumpled under her
hands but pressure had no effect, so she lifted her hands and brought them down
again, slapping against him. Nothing.
He licked her mouth when she refused to open for him, and
dragged her closer.
He heaved, then heaved again. Realizing what was happening,
knowing she couldn’t get away in time, she let her knees give way and dropped,
bowing her head. Better than getting it in the face.
Hot streams of a thick liquid substance poured over her head
and shoulders as the blue drink finally got the better of Carl. He bent, his
grip on her relaxing, and finally she could move away.
“Ah fuck. Stay there, Allie.” Donovan sounded calm, almost
as if he expected it. He might have seen the change in Carl before Allie had a
chance.
She didn’t want to lift her head, but the stink of vomit
surrounded her until she had to swallow her own bile.
Something dropped over her head and someone wiped and
dabbed. “We are so going upstairs,” Donovan said in a voice that invited no
argument. “Sorry, man.” That to a member of the bar staff who’d arrived on the
scene. “Can you handle it from here?” She heard a crackle as a note changed
hands.
“Come on.” Slowly, she got to her feet. Despite the mess, he
put his arm around her waist and she realized that the cloth he’d used was his
T-shirt. She felt disgusting, hated Carl at that moment. Carl Morano couldn’t
handle his alcohol. A lesson hard learned.
Donovan led her away through groups of aliens and starship
crew, all of them giving her a wide berth. Understandably. But Donovan stayed
close, curving his body protectively over her.
They stood clear of the walls in the escalator, but when she
opened her mouth to apologize, he touched her lips. “Don’t say anything.
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