Keeping her mouth on my breast, she releases the soap so her other hand is free to take position between my legs. She moans the instant the bar clatters to the artificial floor that comes with the makeshift shower room.
“I find it hard to believe that you don’t want me when you’re so wet,” she says as she places kisses along the valley of my breasts. Her fingers begin to move over my cleft and I’m frozen in place. I can’t stop my hips from bucking forward when her thumb circles my clit.
This, being with her while there’s a killer out there, is so wrong. She should be worrying about her safety instead of fondling me in the shower. I grit my teeth against calling out her name. With what she’s putting me through, it will sound more like an encouragement instead of a request to stop.
“I’ve been dreaming about having you again since the night we spent together.” She bites the corner of her lip. Then she drops to her knees and nudges my legs farther apart. “You don’t realize what you do to people.” She replaces her fingers with her tongue, and I scream.
I have to get out of this. I have to make her stop.
Closing my eyes, I force away images of Slipstream’s limp body to the back of my mind. I have to stay strong if I want to find whoever hurt him. I can’t allow myself this moment of weakness with Star. One night is all I ever gave her and it will stay that way.
To wake myself further from the haze of desire clouding my judgment, I bite the inside of my cheek until a metallic taste coats my tongue. The pain is what I need. It triggers my consciousness, waking all the muscles that have shutdown.
Despite the return to myself, my hand still feels like a ton of bricks is resting on it when I bring my palm to the back of Star’s head. She perceives this as encouragement because she slips two fingers into me. I shift all my weight to my toes in an effort to dislodge the intrusion. She merely scoots closer and continues sliding her fingers in and out of me.
“Dammit, Star,” I say through clenched teeth. I close my fingers in her hair. When I’m sure I have purchase, I yank her head away from between my legs with enough force that can’t be mistaken for pleasure. The frown of confusion on her face tells me I’m doing the right thing. I look into her eyes until the lust there begins to recede.
The entire time the water runs over us. Star is fully clothed in one of her skimpy outfits, soaked to the bone. She resembles a sad kitten caught in a storm. For a moment I pity her.
“I told you….” I speak through clenched teeth. “One night is all you get.”
I don’t know where the sudden burst of strength comes from, but I’m thankful for it when I’m able to throw her back until she lands on her ass outside the stall. Her confusion is replaced by shock as she leans on her hands.
“Get out,” I stammer out, pointing at the exit.
“RC—”
“Get out!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I STAY under the spray for what seems like hours. Or at least until the warm droplets turn into icy pebbles. Leaning my forehead against the cool wall, I breathe, centering myself. Anger gets me nowhere. I may have kicked Star out of this bathroom, but I know I will be keeping an eye on her until this is over. She’s obviously the next target. A small part of me thinks I should have let her stay and fuck me so when the killer comes for her I’m right here to protect her. But giving my body to her more than once disgusts me to my core. There’s something about her I never liked. We never really clicked as friends. It doesn’t have to do with her being the underboss’s daughter. It doesn’t even have to do with her sleeping with anything that walks on two legs. And I respect her as a driver. It’s a fundamental feeling of unease in my gut, like there’s something inherently wrong with who she is. Like everything in my being is repulsed by her. There are just some people we’re predisposed not to like no matter how hard we try otherwise.
Content with my new state of calm, I turn off the tap and step out of the stall. As I reach for a towel, I find out I have no clothes to change into. What did Star think? That she’d have her way with me, then leave me naked to fend for myself? Well, ultimately, sans the orgasm, I’m left to figure this shit out.
Beginning to get pissed again, I pull a towel from the stack by the sinks and wrap it around my body securely. Then I put on my boots and leave the shower room. Who cares about anyone seeing me walk around this way? I have more important things on my mind than flashing the eagerly watching Terra One audience. In fact, I give several camera drones the finger. Let them watch. It’s all they can do.
At my tent, I push aside the flap and set about getting dressed. I drop the towel to the floor and remove my boots. I tug on my customary leggings and ribbed shirt, not bothering with underwear. Socks on, I slip my feet into the boots again and shrug on my jacket. Then I bundle my wet hair into a bun and secure the strands to the back of my head with a black bandana.
Feeling half-alive and mostly human again, I leave in search of Bedlam. Just because I kicked Star out didn’t mean my needs have stopped being met. I won’t be able to concentrate if I don’t douse
