“How are you?”
Gasping as though she were a spacewalker without a suit, she
stepped to the side, putting distance between herself and the two men whom
she’d thought of so many nights before bed in the hope that she would dream of
them.
That they remembered her. Knew her name—astonishing. A deep
breath. “Rish. Mikal. Good to see you.”
She straightened, proud that she hadn’t stuttered. Not that
anyone could blame her for stammering in the presence of these two bright
stars.
De-lish.
Rish tucked a golden curl behind his ear and raised an
eyebrow but said nothing as she blatantly checked him out. He wore a peace
guard uniform two shades paler green than hers, signifying he was class
three—two levels above her—and probably worked in the courts instead of the
prison. His pants hugged his body as she’d only dreamt of doing, accentuating
his hard lines. His shirt showed off his flat stomach and muscular arms. She
licked her lips.
“Like what you see?” he asked, chuckling.
“Always did.” Xyla was still blushing but the heat that
filled her body now belonged to sexual need more than embarrassment. She
dropped her gaze to Mikal’s black boots and ogled his thick thighs. He wore a
peace officer’s uniform too, off-white. Probably patrolled the space lanes. On
his left thigh, a splash of red marred his otherwise perfectly clean uniform.
She looked away, but not soon enough to go unnoticed.
“Is that blood on your pants?” Rish asked Mikal.
Xyla took another step back and planned her escape. If they
turned her in after she’d covered up her injury, she could lose her job. Should’ve
forgotten the wine and just fueled up and flown home.
Both men turned on her, blocking her paths. They inhaled
deeply. Rish licked his lips. Mikal’s pupils dilated.
“You’re injured,” Mikal said. Not a question. A statement
with steel behind it.
Think fast. “Sliced myself on some exposed metal in
my ship. Looks like I need another coat of seal-skin. Sorry about your uniform.
Bill me. I’m on RMC Moon 2.” She turned to leave.
Mikal, looking as though he didn’t believe her, grabbed her
arm and spun her around. “Screw my uniform. You’re bleeding all over the
place.”
She glanced at her hip. Glum. He was right. The seal
had broken and her wound was deeper than she’d first thought. Blood spilled
down her leg to cover her boot in a bright-red sheen. She worked the
finger-sized tube of seal-skin out of the loop in her pants and generously
smeared it on the wound through the rip in her pants.
The bleeding slowed.
She blinked past the dizziness that swept over her again.
The bottles of red wine protested with a clunk when they hit the metal-mesh
floor and clattered as they rolled away. Her legs buckled. But instead of going
down, she was lifted against Mikal’s broad chest and found herself looking into
his handsome face.
She smiled.
“Dream come true,” she mumbled, or maybe just thought.
She leaned in and gave his lips a kiss. Warm. Soft. Another
kiss. This time with tongue. The taste of his mouth—perfect. His sharp canine
teeth pricked her lower lip. She tasted copper and didn’t care. He didn’t
respond but didn’t pull back.
The sexual fantasy she’d had in school that kept her
obsessed with the Ivec guys flashed through her mind for the millionth time
since she’d first met them. It always started the same.
* * * * *
She was running late for class. Alone in the school showers,
she relaxed her muscles under a hot spray of water, steam billowing all around
her like balmy, dense clouds.
The back of her neck tingled. Mikal and Rish appeared out of
the mist, as though they were ghosts taking corporeal form. Water beaded their
bodies. The scent of sweet soap saturated the air around them. Xyla closed her
eyes then opened them, expecting her dream guys to disappear like the fantasy
they were. But not only were they still there, they approached her, holding her
hands and kissing her with
Gasping as though she were a spacewalker without a suit, she
stepped to the side, putting distance between herself and the two men whom
she’d thought of so many nights before bed in the hope that she would dream of
them.
That they remembered her. Knew her name—astonishing. A deep
breath. “Rish. Mikal. Good to see you.”
She straightened, proud that she hadn’t stuttered. Not that
anyone could blame her for stammering in the presence of these two bright
stars.
De-lish.
Rish tucked a golden curl behind his ear and raised an
eyebrow but said nothing as she blatantly checked him out. He wore a peace
guard uniform two shades paler green than hers, signifying he was class
three—two levels above her—and probably worked in the courts instead of the
prison. His pants hugged his body as she’d only dreamt of doing, accentuating
his hard lines. His shirt showed off his flat stomach and muscular arms. She
licked her lips.
“Like what you see?” he asked, chuckling.
“Always did.” Xyla was still blushing but the heat that
filled her body now belonged to sexual need more than embarrassment. She
dropped her gaze to Mikal’s black boots and ogled his thick thighs. He wore a
peace officer’s uniform too, off-white. Probably patrolled the space lanes. On
his left thigh, a splash of red marred his otherwise perfectly clean uniform.
She looked away, but not soon enough to go unnoticed.
“Is that blood on your pants?” Rish asked Mikal.
Xyla took another step back and planned her escape. If they
turned her in after she’d covered up her injury, she could lose her job. Should’ve
forgotten the wine and just fueled up and flown home.
Both men turned on her, blocking her paths. They inhaled
deeply. Rish licked his lips. Mikal’s pupils dilated.
“You’re injured,” Mikal said. Not a question. A statement
with steel behind it.
Think fast. “Sliced myself on some exposed metal in
my ship. Looks like I need another coat of seal-skin. Sorry about your uniform.
Bill me. I’m on RMC Moon 2.” She turned to leave.
Mikal, looking as though he didn’t believe her, grabbed her
arm and spun her around. “Screw my uniform. You’re bleeding all over the
place.”
She glanced at her hip. Glum. He was right. The seal
had broken and her wound was deeper than she’d first thought. Blood spilled
down her leg to cover her boot in a bright-red sheen. She worked the
finger-sized tube of seal-skin out of the loop in her pants and generously
smeared it on the wound through the rip in her pants.
The bleeding slowed.
She blinked past the dizziness that swept over her again.
The bottles of red wine protested with a clunk when they hit the metal-mesh
floor and clattered as they rolled away. Her legs buckled. But instead of going
down, she was lifted against Mikal’s broad chest and found herself looking into
his handsome face.
She smiled.
“Dream come true,” she mumbled, or maybe just thought.
She leaned in and gave his lips a kiss. Warm. Soft. Another
kiss. This time with tongue. The taste of his mouth—perfect. His sharp canine
teeth pricked her lower lip. She tasted copper and didn’t care. He didn’t
respond but didn’t pull back.
The sexual fantasy she’d had in school that kept her
obsessed with the Ivec guys flashed through her mind for the millionth time
since she’d first met them. It always started the same.
* * * * *
She was running late for class. Alone in the school showers,
she relaxed her muscles under a hot spray of water, steam billowing all around
her like balmy, dense clouds.
The back of her neck tingled. Mikal and Rish appeared out of
the mist, as though they were ghosts taking corporeal form. Water beaded their
bodies. The scent of sweet soap saturated the air around them. Xyla closed her
eyes then opened them, expecting her dream guys to disappear like the fantasy
they were. But not only were they still there, they approached her, holding her
hands and kissing her with
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