Page 76 of Star Claimed Omega
Soleil turned to see Astra striding into the room, her brows lifted and curiosity painted all over her face.
She was dressed in sleek coveralls that hugged her curves, her thick, wild hair contained in a bun, her lips pursed. ‘Woman, where the hell have you been?’
‘Long story, I’ll tell you outside as I don’t want to bore Wren with repeating it.’
Their boss waved the pair away as he twisted back to his books.
Soleil grabbed Astra’s arm, dragging her out of the office.
In the corridor, she exhaled and whispered, ‘I’m just staying with Santi for now. Nothing else. Just until I find a place to rent.’
Astra’s brows rose so high they almost vanished into her hairline. ‘Santi, is it now? The XO? You’restayingwith him?’
‘You heard me.’
Astra smirked. ‘You mean lodging with him, orlivingwith him?’
Soleil gave her a sharp look.
‘Oh come on,’ Astra laughed. ‘The man looks like a pirate king dipped in molten sin. If he so much as aimed one of his velvet growls at me from that luscious mouth, I’d melt on thefokkin’ spot.’
Soleil blinked and spoke in a hushed warning. ‘Astra.’
‘What? Don’t tell me he hasn’t -.’
Soleil raised a hand. ‘Enough. We’re not doing this. It’s temporary and innocent. That’s it.’
Astra rolled her eyes but grinned. ‘Alright, but don’t pretend you haven’t eye-fokkedhis face, torso, and those thick thighs.’
Even though all that Astra stated was true, Soleil rolled her eyes, turned on her heel, and left her friend cackling behind her.
She returned to her shift, heading up to Deck 27, her service cart gliding beside her as she scrubbed down a few high-rotation guest cabins.
The work was both comforting and routine, involving physical labor.
Her body moved on instinct while her mind drifted, always circling back to Santi.
Heck, she had never felt so much freedom around a man.
His words, his promise, were playing with her mind and soul. She found herself excited, counting seconds to see him.
However, her workload was extensive, so she put all thoughts of him aside to get through her tasks.
It was dark when she finished and returned to her cabin.
The lights were dimmed to a soft amber, casting warm hues over the polished floors and stone counters.
She dropped her satchel on the counter and sighed.
It felt like slipping into a haven, but the moment didn’t last.
A searing pain shot up her wrist.
‘Fokk,’ she gasped, staggering back as the comms bracelet burst through her skin once more, metal twining like vines over bone and flesh until it latched, solid and cold. Her mouth trembled.
The holo activated, a flickering projection stabilizing mid-air.
‘It’s Vern,’ came the guttural, oily purr. ‘How are you, Scarletta?’
