Page 3 of Survivor
“Most definitely.” I licked my lips and then peeled my vest off. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and my nipples were instantly hard.
He exhaled sharply. “Rogue …”
I stepped closer and unbuttoned his trousers before inching them down over his hips, taking his briefs with the cargo pants. They snagged on his arousal.
“Fuck.” Lore stepped away and turned his back on me. “Rogue. I’m sorry.”
My neck heated. He was hard for me. So fucking hard. “Don’t be.” I kicked off my trousers. He wanted me, but he wasn’t ready. “Let me touch you, Lore. Please.”
He didn’t speak, but he nodded.
I hugged him from behind and reached round to find his desire. My fingers wrapped around him, and the muscles in his lower back tightened in anticipation.
Slowly, leisurely, I began to pump.
He was breathing fast, heaving breaths as I worked him, and then a low groan spilled from his lips. “Rogue. Stop or I’ll—”
“Come for me.” I picked up the pace, hugging him close as sounds of his release accompanied the hot spurt of his seed over my fingers.
He turned to face me, his unhurt hand slipped around my throat to tilt my head back, and then his mouth was on mine. Hungry and desperate. He kissed me thorough and wild, backing me up until my skin met tile, and then the water was gushing down on us. He pulled back, lashes lowered to shield his ember eyes, mouth parted as water skimmed down his face, and then his hand slid down between my breasts, down my abdomen toward the lip of my panties.
I gripped his hand. “Not today.” I offered him a crooked smile. “Our time isn’t today.”
I wanted him, but I wanted our first time to be off this rock. On a ship, safe and away. I wanted it slow and leisurely, and I wanted all of him.
I grabbed the soap and lathered up. “Lean forward so I can wash your hair.”
He scanned my face for a long beat, and then, with a small, mystified smile, he obliged.
* * *
Sticking to my guns and not taking Lore then and there in the shower had been bloody hard. But every inch of his body was etched into my mind. My fingers had memorized the feel of his skin, every dip and plane. We’d held each other for long minutes under the spray, reveling in the heat that our bodies generated, and the churn and rush of blood in our veins.
We sat around the rickety table Tide had procured, spooning yellow gloop into our mouths. They called it krell here on the port. It was a staple diet of the long haulers and contained all the vitamins and minerals required to sustain life.
I felt Lore’s gaze on me on more than one occasion, and my pulse quickened. They’d be going to sleep soon. Four hours before their next shift. Working around the clock was the only way to gather the funds we needed to get off the port.
I swallowed the final mouthful. “How much do we have?”
“Not enough,” Tide said solemnly.
“You need to let me work.”
His gaze cut sharply my way. “There’s a distinct shortage of females on this port, not to mention your distinctive human traits. We can’t risk you being attacked, or a Trad coming across you.”
“Athion could have eyes on this place,” Lore added. “We can blend in because there are plenty of Athions on the port but no humans.”
We’d had this argument before.
The logical part of me understood the danger. But inaction wasn’t a trait I cultivated. The guys must have realized this because their shifts alternated and never overlapped. Two of them were here at all times, which meant I was stuck here. I was sure they’d planned it that way to prevent me from leaving.
I got it. They were trying to protect me, but fuck I was bored out of my skull.
I gathered the metal bowls and headed for the small kitchen area. “Get some rest.”
“Lore, you go first,” Tide said.
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to sleep in shifts. I’m not going to run off and get myself captured.”
