Surely he didn’t get a call sign like Thorough for anything less.
Finally he looks at her, an insinuating prickle in his gray eyes as he pulls something from her ruck. She stares at the rubber penis in his gloved hand—hot pink and unabashedly large.
“What the hell is this?” His lips curl in a slow, serrated smile.
Lana’s mouth falls open long before the words come. “I… that’s not mine.” She can’t even gather the wits to add Sir to the end of her protest before she’s digging in the ruck herself. Definitely her things. She checks the zipper, finds her ID number on the tag.
Thorough glances over at the tablet, reading. “Then you’re not Cadet Marsden?” He yanks another item from the depths of the ruck. A lacy bra, emerald-green.
“I am, but, that isn’t mine. Sir!”
Thorough holds the bra in the air, letting it dangle from his gloved fist like some vermin he’s caught running wild in the Hub. Lana feels the trainees in line behind her craning their necks to gawk. She notices the other officers—Rangers—appearing out of nowhere, one to each side of Thorough’s table, observing the spectacle.
“Look!” Desperate, Lana grabs at the bra and stretches a lacy cup over her hand—enormous. “This isn’t even my size!” She expects him to glance at her chest to verify this. He doesn’t.
He lifts the pink dildo in his other hand instead. “No? How about this?”
Even though she’s never seen the giant dildo before, Lana feels the flush of blood creeping into her face. Some of the trainees behind her snicker. Thorough gives them a cutting look.
“Sex toys and lingerie are a Code violation.” He tosses the prohibited items in the bin and keeps rooting through her ruck. “Take her down to the brig. Her CO can sort it out.”
Lana stiffens as one of the Rangers comes toward her. She feels the other trainees edging away, making room. “Wait, please.” Stay calm. “This stuff isn’t mine, I swear. Somebody must have packed it in my ruck by mistake—” But it’s no use; arguing is only making a scene. The Ranger’s face remains impassive as he draws Lana’s hands in front of her and slips a pair of metal cuffs on her wrists. She bites her lip, hard, her entire body flushing hot as the cuffs snap shut.
The Rangers lead her away, up the steps, past the elevators and along the raised corridor. Panic courses through her as she’s marched to the far end of the Hub.
They’re really going to do this.
Lock her up.
She feels the eyes of the officers in the corridor moving over her, several administrative types gripping tablets and gazing down their noses at her, and those below staring up through the glass. She tries to ignore the strange torment, the inconvenient and almost unbearably arousing friction as her nipples, suddenly hard, rub against her bra. She catches a flicker of red and dares a glance at Scarlet, who watches, looking puzzled, hands on her hips.
Lana tries not to wriggle in the Ranger’s grasp, her bodysuit sticking to her sudden sweat, the cuffs and the humiliation chafing equally as a nasty thought twists its way into her gut.
Is this just one of their games?
Her throat pulls when she swallows, suddenly dry. Has she, Lana Marsden, exemplary trainee, been designated a bad girl? The girl who tries to smuggle a dildo and lingerie onto Station Six… and now her CO gets to decide how best to punish her?
The Rangers load her into a small service elevator. As the elevator sinks below the Transport Level of the Hub into the lowest level of the station, she struggles to get a grip.
Breathe.
She’ll get a reprimand, a formal note in her file. That’s all. No one is going to punish her—not like that. That’s all just fantasy. The oversexed imaginations of a bunch of bored and horny trainees. Her CO is most definitely not going to show up and strip her down and humiliate her further. That’s ridiculous.
But the thought alone has her squirming in place.
Of course, in her panicked, runaway imagination, the CO in question is ridiculously hot and just as unattainable. He looks like a Ranger. Maybe he’s wearing one of those helmets with the mask and he’s got a big, shiny pistol on his hip… and before she knows it, her blood is rushing to all the wrong places.
No. Between officers and cadets, sex is strictly forbidden. Which is why the rumors about Station Six are wrong.
And there’s nothing at all kinky about being singled out, cuffed and taken to the brig.
CHAPTER TWO
Catch takes the service elevator down to the hangar alone.
Normally he heads down to the Hub to check out his new batch of virgins in the flesh on arrivals day. Not all trainers do. First never bothers. But Catch likes to get a look at his trainees while they’re herded onto the station and sorted. While they’re off their game. Nervous and overwhelmed, irritable from transport. Battling shuttle lag.
More importantly, he wants them to get a look at him.
Catch knows he intimidates most virgins, and it’s not just the tattoos or his reputation. It’s important he be seen during their first anxiety-charged moments on Station Six as a reminder that he will be as integral to their experience here as the air system. Pass or fail, it’s up to him, the officer watching from above.
But today, he’s late. A last minute meeting with the XO and another meeting on its heels with the training leads meant none of the trainers made it to Transport in time to watch the virgins disembark.
And now this. Cleaning up a mess for First’s little sister already.
Score met Catch as he was coming out of the trainers’ meeting to show him the incident report. Catch immediately deleted it rather than authorize and log it in the system. As long
