Claudia showed no desire to leave the Consort Chamber and only slipped out to get more drugs from the med kit in the security office. Attie was certain one of these times she’d find the woman dead of an overdose. I need to ask if Esben has a way to break her addiction, she reminded herself. If there was one thing she’d come to realize over the last few days, it was that you should never give up.
At the doorway, Doug put a hand on her arm, drawing her out of her thoughts. “When you’ve finished, come to the admiral’s suite.”
Butterflies filled her stomach. They hadn’t been alone together since he’d hacked the countdown, but she’d caught him looking at her repeatedly between burns and hoped she knew what he was asking.
She yearned for him, too. The one time they’d been intimate invaded her mind every time she looked at him. But another part of her was terrified. The sex had been spectacular, but it had also been born of desperation and adrenaline. What if this time things fell flat?
There’s only one way to find out, she told herself as she smiled and nodded at him.
A mix of exhaustion and anticipation made her insides jittery as she checked the brig, then hurried to her quarters to shower and change clothes. Her footsteps echoed hollowly in the vacant corridors. Hundreds of crew members had fled during the self-destruct sequence, and she could move to a nicer room if she wanted, but she hadn’t taken time to think that far ahead. The cyborgs had moved out of their cells and into the officer suites two levels up.
Once she was clean and dressed, she headed to the lift. She stepped off the elevator on the officer level, and the mouthwatering scent of bacon hit her. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d eaten anything but protein bars and electrolytes. Closing her eyes, she raised her chin and inhaled deeply, following the delectable smell down the hall.
At the admiral’s suite, the door opened automatically, revealing the scent of the bacon along with a delectable odor of fresh bread. Her stomach growled.
“I’m in here,” Doug called from a doorway to her right.
Doug was cooking? And he could bake? She wasn’t certain why, but it surprised her. She stepped inside and let the door slide shut behind her.
She’d never been in the admiral’s suite before and gaped at the open sitting area tastefully decorated with plush white furniture and glass shelving. This room alone was the size of the family quarters she’d grown up in. A vast video screen took up an entire wall, displaying an image of a spectacular orange sunset over rocky mountains capped with snow. She glanced toward another open door where she could see the corner of a large bed, dark blue coverlet falling in non-regulation fashion to the floor. Had he slept there, yet?
Heading into the dining area, she paused. Crystal glasses filled with orange juice sat at two adjacent spots on a big glass table, and a steaming pot of fresh coffee waited next to a fresh fruit platter.
This is for me. He could cook and he was thoughtful. Other guys she’d dated would’ve been waiting on the couch with a beer and thought themselves seductive if they remembered to offer her one, too. If she imagined she loved Doug before, she could practically worship him, now.
Carrying plates of bacon, eggs, and buttered toast, Doug emerged from a second door. He set the plates down and pulled out a chair for her. “I hope you don’t mind breakfast. This is all I know how to cook.”
Torn between jumping him now and her growling belly, she sat, letting him slide her forward. “Where did you get all this?” Reaching for a grape from the platter, she bit into it with a soft crunch that flooded her mouth with sweetness. “They only serve replicated food in the mess hall.”
“The kitchen in the officer’s mess has well-stocked coolers. I figured we might as well eat it before it goes bad.” He reached for the coffee pot. “Coffee?”
“Nebulas, yes,” she said, taking a huge bite of crisp bacon. She chewed with her eyes closed a moment, letting the rich, salty flavor fill her senses. When she opened her eyes, she found him looking at her, the coffee pot poised over the still-empty cup. She swallowed. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
His gaze dropped to the mug, filling it and sliding it toward her. “It’s been a long time since I shared a meal with someone. I like watching you enjoy it.”
Heat flooded her, pooling low between her legs. She licked her lips, picked up a large grape and ran her tongue over it before biting in, eyes never leaving his. A slow moan of pleasure rose from her throat, but she wasn’t really thinking about the food anymore.
Gaze smoldering, he slid his chair closer and put one hand on her knee. Electric jolts raced up her thigh. She’d worn slacks, but part of her wished she was wearing the thin consort skirt so he could slide the hem up and explore her further.
Putting one hand over his, she drew his touch along her leg to the juncture of her thighs.
He made a low, hungry sound at the back of his throat, and as if all he’d been waiting for was permission, he stood and pulled her into an embrace. His mouth claimed hers, kissing her with deep, passionate strokes of his tongue. Her hormones raged to life, and she melted against him, reveling in his taste and smell.
His desire prodded against her through the thin fabric of her slacks, and she slid one hand from his neck down his chest to loosen his drawstring waistband. Shoving his pants down his hips, her hands skimmed the perfect, rounded curve of his ass. He let the fabric slid to his ankles, stepping free before sweeping her
