Dark Solstice (33 page)

She supposed she shouldn’t have accused Kyle of trying to entrap her, particularly when it was obvious that he’d never meant it when he’d asked her, but she hadn’t been able help herself. It had just popped into her mind and then, instead of assuring her that he really
had
meant it, he’d only made excuses—just like Raathe, damn him!

Obviously she’d been right all the time. Neither one of them cared anything about her. She’d been nothing but a handy fuck.

She thought she could’ve lived with that if they hadn’t gone out their way to make her fall for them by making her feel like they cared about her.

She didn’t know why she was even brooding over that! It wasn’t a solution to her problem anyway.

The pregnancy was the problem and the end results was an even bigger problem. A baby changed everything! It was going to totally change her life.

It occurred to her, briefly, that she didn’t have to go through with it even if she had made a huge mistake, but as quickly as it did she felt a stab of remorse for even considering it briefly, and then a terrible sense of loss. She loved them. She couldn’t just discard the baby as if it was nothing more than an inconvenience! It was part of her and part of ….

She didn’t know who the hell else it was a part of!

Getting up abruptly, she stalked into the bathroom to take another long, hot shower. Despite the misery of not knowing what was going on and all of her other worries, she was so grateful to have civilized accommodations again she’d practically camped out in the bathroom since she’d arrived on the ship—when she wasn’t sleeping. It helped to pass the time, anyway. Besides, it was soothing and she could cry her eyes out in the shower without worrying that some hidden vid was recording every crying jag and tabulating the likelihood that she’d completely lost her mind.

Someone buzzed her door as she emerged from the bath, nearly making her jump out of her skin. “Come in,” she said dully once she’d recovered from the start, figuring it was the droid come to deliver another meal.

At least she had decent food, a shower, a toilet, and a bed!

Justice stepped in and then jolted to halt when he saw her as if he’d hit a brick wall.

Rhea was almost as stunned as he was. For several minutes the two of them merely stared at one another, but it finally filtered through her shocked brain that he looked like he’d been through a meat grinder. “What happened to your face?” she gasped, appalled.

He looked startled, wincing when he lifted a hand automatically to check the swelling just beneath one eye. “Raathe,” he answered finally.

Rhea moved closer to examine him. “He hit you?” she demanded angrily.

It flickered through Justice’s mind to tell her they’d enjoyed a few rounds in the boxing ring, but he discovered he was having a hard time focusing on anything besides Rhea. Actually, he was having a hard time focusing on anything besides the fact that Rhea was completely naked and still rosy all over and damp from the shower she’d obviously just emerged from. “Beat the shit out of me,” he said absently.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did he hit you?” she demanded impatiently.

He was on the point of asking her why she cared, but he bit back the retort. He hadn’t come to fight with her and that would be the surest way to do it, to be antagonistic. Supplicant, he reminded himself sternly. He was going to have to do a little—or a lot—of groveling according to Raathe.

The idea of grabbing her and throwing her down on the bed and fucking her senseless had a lot more appeal at the moment. He toyed with the idea, briefly, wondering if there was any way a full frontal assault would have a chance of throwing her off guard enough to work. “I’m sorry,” he said abruptly. “Sorry as hell, Rhea.”

She stiffened and, despite his preoccupation with the current state of his dick, he knew immediately that he’d taken the wrong route to forgiveness.

“About getting me pregnant?” she asked neutrally.

He blinked, thrown completely off kilter. “Did I?” he asked, a slow grin dawning.

She punched him in the belly. “If you didn’t, you sure as hell tried!”

“Damn it, that hurt!” he snarled, rubbing his belly, which was already bruised, to say nothing of the fact that she’d caught him completely off guard even it she
had
barely tapped him.

It wilted Willie, though.

Which wasn’t all bad since it redirected the blood flow to his brain. “I said I was sorry, damn it! I was just doing my job!”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Well! That makes it alright, then!” she said with a watery sniff, turning away abruptly.

He followed her. “Damn it, baby! I could’ve been killed if anybody had realized I was working under cover. I never lied to you about anything that counted.”

“Everything counted!” Rhea snapped, flopping down on the side of the bed.

Justice tried to ignore the way it made her breasts bounce. He really did.

He crouched down in front of her before she could get the idea of punching him in the belly again. “I love you, damn it!”

She sniffed. He couldn’t tell if that was because she was about to cry or if it denoted non-verbal contempt. She wouldn’t look at him. Instead, she studied her hands in her lap.

He flicked a glance at her lap and decided he’d be better off if he focused on the top of her head. “Tell me what to do to make it right.”

“Go away!” she said, sniffing again.

“Anything but that,” he said, firmly crushing the craven urge to retreat since Raathe was waiting outside and he had no doubt the bastard would take instant advantage—besides telling him he had no balls again.

She peeked up at him through damp, spiked lashes. “If you really meant it, why did you act that way when you arrested us?”

Justice gaped at her. “I didn’t arrest you! I rescued you, damn it!”

“It felt like an arrest,” Rhea said pointedly. “You were all stiff and cold and called me Dr. Landon! How was I supposed to know you weren’t arresting me when you’d just showed up with all the other rangers?”

Justice flushed, studying her uncomfortably. “You’re pissed off at me because I followed professional protocol?” he demanded indignantly. “Do you think it’s
allowed
for a ranger to take advantage of a victim? I could’ve been facing charges … I still might. Chief Coulter put me on leave. He’s calling it rest and recuperation right now but when he has time to sort through everything I’m going to have a hell of a time explaining what I was doing with you in Phobos!”

He didn’t like her expression.

“I thought you’d understand,” he added stiffly.

“Well, I didn’t!” she snapped.

“Well, you do now, damn it!”

“Don’t yell at me!”

“I didn’t yell!” He wrestled with his temper. “You said you’d consider contracting with me,” he reminded her.

“You haven’t asked! You haven’t been near me all! I’ve been stuck in this room for days wondering what was going on! Why isn’t Raathe in lock up anymore?”

Justice glared at her. “Because all charges have been dropped. Could we just focus on me and you for a few minutes?”

Rhea opened her mouth to ask him to elaborate on ‘all charges dropped’ but then closed her mouth again. “You’re saying you still want to contract with me?” she asked hesitantly.

“I just said I did, didn’t I?” he snapped testily.

She folded her arms across her breasts, narrowing her eyes at him.

He stared at her with a mixture of irritation and dismay, realizing belatedly that his proposal hadn’t been particularly romantic. It was hard to get his mind off of the two pink nipples peaking at him over her arms, though.

Plan B, he thought abruptly, dropping his arms around her hips and dragging her from the bed onto his lap. The sudden move startled her. Her hands went automatically to his shoulders to catch her balance, her lips parting in surprise. He took instant advantage, covering her startled mouth with his own. From that moment it was all down hill for brain function. A rush of fire scorched him as he explored the tiny cavern of her mouth, the hot, moist, slick interior instantly conjuring images of the tight cavern between her legs and the moment that image filled his mind his hand went to the closure of his suit.

It flickered through his mind that his legendary finesse had deserted him somewhere along the way, but he couldn’t really think of anything except shoving his cock inside of her as quickly as he could find the route. Tearing at the closure, he winced at the pain he encountered trying to drag his dick through the small opening but persevered, unearthing it and guiding it in a short, desperate search for the spot. A groan of pleasure rumbled in his chest when he felt the give of her body, felt the mouth of sex wrap around the head of his dick. Pain lanced through him at the short struggle to juggle her weight until he could wedge himself inside, but a wave of incredible pleasure replaced it the moment he succeeded.

He held her still for a moment when he discovered he’d burrowed as deeply as he could, wishing he could get a little deeper still, reluctant to move since it meant breaking the kiss and he was enjoying having his tongue and his dick in her too much to want to give up either. She squirmed on his lap, though, ripping any semblance of control from him. The need to move and the need for air won out. Breaking from her lips, he sucked in a harsh breath like a swimmer going under, grasped her hips firmly and lifted her, tipping her just enough to give himself room to pump in and out of her.

She began to make those breathless little sounds that clawed through him like fingernails, that set his heart to thundering so hard in his chest he felt like it would explode. He could feel his seed boiling in his testicles like acid, threatening to erupt any second.

“Oh fuck!” he muttered, realizing he’d fucked up—again, and added a little hopefully, “I love you, baby.”

She shuddered, uttered a groan, the muscles along her channel clenching abruptly and then releasing.

He hoped to hell that meant she was coming because he sure as hell was! He uttered a breathless grunt as his own body convulsed, ejecting his seed into her in almost painful spasms.

The relief was so profound when his body stopped convulsing he felt like he was going to blackout. It filtered into his sluggish brain, though, that she was weeping. Hot moisture dampened his skin where she lay her head limply against his shoulder. He scrambled to gather his wits. “Did I hurt you, baby?” he asked hoarsely, hoping she would say no. What the hell was he supposed to say if she said yes?

She sniffed, shaking her head.

He wasn’t as relieved as he’d thought he would be. Crying, but no—what the fuck did that mean?

“You mean it?”

Mean what, he wondered a little frantically? “Yes,” he said gruffly, deciding that was the correct answer.

“You really love me and want to contract with me?” she clarified.

Relieved, he nodded, wondering if she would get pissed off all over again if he dragged her up on the bed and passed out for just a few moments—just until his heart slowed down and he could breathe.

He discovered he was too weak to get up. He wasn’t about let go of her, however, since he realized dimly that putting her away from him and collapsing on the bed would send the wrong message. Instead, he shifted her around on his lap and rolled onto the floor, holding her so that she landed on top of him. She snuggled her face against his neck just about the time he decided it would be safe to let go of consciousness and drowse for a moment.

“Then yes.”

Yes, what, he wondered sluggishly, trying to rouse his brain function high enough to figure it out? Discovering it was beyond him at the moment, he settled for patting her absently a couple of times in a gesture of approval.

The door buzzer roused him a few moments later. He felt around for the alarm and realized he was on the floor just as the buzzer went off again, more impatiently this time.

Rhea lifted her head. “Who is it?”

“Raathe.”

“Oh fuck!” Rhea exclaimed, leaping off of Kyle.

“’S alright,” Justice said, pushing himself upright with an effort. “He was waiting his turn.”

“Waiting his turn?” Rhea echoed, zeroing in on his face like a laser guided missile.

Justice studied her uneasily and then looked away. Stalling for time, he shoved himself to his feet, pushing his flaccid cock back into his suit and fastening the closure.

“What do you mean ‘he was waiting his turn’?” Rhea demanded.

Justice eyed her uncomfortably and finally strode to the door. “You’re up, Raathe,” he muttered, beating a retreat.

Rhea planted her hands on her hips. “What did he mean ‘you’re up’?”

“Well, fuck!” Raathe snapped, turning to glare at Kyle’s retreating form. “You asshole! That’s the last time I let you take lead!”

Discovering she had cum dripping down her thigh, Rhea retreated into the bathroom. She’d just plunged her head under the water when Raathe joined her in the shower. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he dragged her full length against his belly. “Good idea,” he murmured huskily.

Sloughing the water from her eyes, Rhea shoved away from him and turned to confront him. “You’re taking turns?” she demanded.

Raathe studied her for a moment. “It was your idea, munch!”

Arrested by the comment, Rhea felt her anger wane. “What was my idea?”

“Contracting with both of us. You might as well get used to it.”

She studied him for a long moment and finally smiled. “Get used to what?”

“Rotation.”

She moved closer, lifting a hand to skim it along his chest. “Rotation, huh?”

“I don’t mind telling you I’m not real keen on it. I’d rather have you all to myself, but I’ll adjust.”

“Will you?” she asked, leaning close to nibble at the hard pec she’d been caressing.

He shrugged. “I figure, if I could adjust to Phobos Prison, there isn’t a hell of a lot I can’t adjust to. So—you’ll sign?”

“What?”

“The contract, munch!” he said testily. “It’s ready. Turns out they were real anxious to make me happy and did one up right away. We can take a little walk right now and take care of it.”