Page 52 of Zinnia and the Zombie
“Perhaps. Although I can’t see myself as a pilot.”
“You can do anything you wish to do,” he said. “There are other duties that would require less specialized training.”
She tilted her head, regarding him curiously. “Such as?”
“The cleaning and maintenance of living quarters.”
She laughed. “You want me to be a janitor?”
“It is important work. And there would be… benefits.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Benefits?”
He pulled her down onto his lap and she wiggled happily against him, her eyes shining with amusement. The simple rightness of her in his arms never ceased to amaze him. This fierce, gentlewoman who had called him back from living death, who had stood beside him against every danger, who had chosen him over her own world—she was his miracle, his unexpected salvation.
He smiled down at her. “As captain it is my duty to ensure all the crew are fully satisfied.”
She ran a hand down his chest, hovering just above the lamellae covering his mating organ. “A very important responsibility. But I believe you’re already fulfilling that duty.”
He captured her wrist, gently restraining her. “Only part of it. There are many duties a captain must fulfill.”
“Really?” Her smile widened. “Such as?”
“He must provide direction.”
“What kind of direction?”
“Navigation, for example.” He released her wrist and took her by the hips, shifting her so she straddled him. She inhaled sharply as he rocked her against the bulge of his mating organ. He kissed her, savoring her intoxicating taste until she was clinging to him.
“Communication,” he continued, trailing kisses along her jaw, her throat, nipping at her pulse. “Coordination.”
She arched her back, her soft curves molding against him. “Anything else?”
He slid his hands up her body, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples through the thin fabric. She moaned, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Many other things,” he murmured, his lips tracing the delicate shell of her ear. “I can’t wait to get started.”
The captain’s chair wasn’t the most comfortable location, but neither of them seemed to care as his hands slipped beneath the hem of her top, finding the warm skin of her waist.
She made that small, needy sound in the back of her throat that always drove him to distraction, and he was about to lift her, to carry her somewhere more suitable when a harsh, mechanical sound cut through the quiet cockpit.
Red alerts flashed across the console, bathing them in crimson light, and he quickly lifted her off his lap.
“Strap in,” he ordered. “Now.”
She scrambled into the co-pilot’s seat, fumbling with the harness as he bent over the controls.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice steady despite the way she was gripping the armrest.
“Proximity alert,” he said, searching their surroundings. “We’re not alone.”
The sensors showed a vessel approaching rapidly from their port side—a ship that had been hidden in the shadow of the system’s outer planet until it moved to intercept them. Deliberate. Calculated.
The ship’s engines screamed as he attempted evasive maneuvers, but the other vessel had appeared too suddenly.
“Grorn?” she asked, and he shook his head as the other vessel appeared on the viewscreen—a massive ship materializing as if from nowhere, its hull a patchwork of modified armor plating and weapons arrays.
He swore under his breath just as a blinding flash filled the viewscreen. The ship bucked violently, throwing them against the restraints. The lights flickered, then died, plunging the bridge into darkness before emergency lighting activated, bathing everything in an eerie red glow.
