Deep Indigo (8 page)

He looked around the big dining room—it was nearly full this evening, abuzz with conversation as passengers met each other and crew chatted about what they had done on their break. A group of Barillians wended their stately way through the tables, humming to each other through the tall pipes protruding from their lavender skulls. Joined by a pair of Mauritanians, showing their large sharp teeth, a family of small, slender Pangaeans rose en masse, their green corn-silk hair waggling in alarm, and scurried to another table.

Navos watched with a minimum of interest. The Serpentian guards were everywhere, some on duty around the perimeter, some at dinner. If it became necessary, he knew they would spring into action to remove any problem swiftly and efficiently.

Two young Indigons sat at a table just below his own. He saw with approval that they were visiting quietly, watching the other passengers. He’d spoken by holo-vid with the vice regent at the Indigon University that morning. He was immediately assured two candidates would arrive today by shuttle. It seemed his services as a mentor were in great demand and the regent was not going to pass up a chance to place new graduates. Navos had been invited to interview both young men and choose one or both as interns.

The vice regent had asked politely about his problem with Ms. Cobalt. Navos merely said that although psychically talented, she wasn’t suitable. He hadn’t mentioned the death of the Indigon boy—it would come out soon enough in the galactic news.

Navos had just been served his dinner when awareness riffled across his mind like a sudden warm breeze. The two young Indigons sat up, staring raptly at the main entrance to the hall. As were many other males present, including the male Serpentian guards, always looking for a new conquest. Following their gaze, Navos froze with his wineglass at his lips.

A lovely, exotic young woman stood in the arching entryway, poised as lightly as a butterfly on a bloom. She wore a slim fall of silvery blue lii leaf silk, slender arms and shoulders bare. Her only adornments were a heavy silver bangle on one wrist and two long streaks of silver dangling from her earlobes. The short feathery cap of her black hair was a foil for her lovely face, and delicate cosmetics rendered her blue eyes huge and smoky, her lips like orchid petals.

He felt a now-familiar jolt in his gut.

The Indigon beauty was none other than the woman he’d last seen flushed and tousled from his embrace.
Nelah
—her name whispered through his mind like a warm caress.

She looked toward him and he saw her lips curve up in a tiny smile. Ignoring the many eyes riveted on her, she walked gracefully toward him across the room. He realized belatedly he was staring like a fool. He took a long drink of his wine and set his glass down carefully, ready to rise courteously when she neared him.

A carefully shielded part of him rejoiced with fierce male triumph. This beautiful female was his—he’d taken her, body and mind, made her cry out with ecstasy. The memory of her impossibly tight, silken depths receiving him sent heat glowing in his loins, spreading up through him in a liquid tide.

But there was something in her swaying, sensual walk, something in the mystery of that little smile that sent an icy trickle of foreboding down his spine. He took another careful drink of wine and then watched over his glass as she stopped, not before his table, but before the two younger Indigons.

Rising so quickly they resembled automatons springing from a box, one pulled out a chair for her, the other bowing. Then the two of them sat and leaned toward her, their eyes riveted on her face.

Their exuberant attraction buffeted Navos. He slammed his mental shields into place, shutting out their youthful lust.

For one awful moment he wondered if she’d deliberately seduced him and was moving on to new prey. Then his common sense took over. He recalled her naïveté, her inability to control the power of her attraction to him. No, he’d been the instigator.

His eyes narrowed. This, if he was not mistaken, was her feminine revenge. She was playing the youths, in a clear attempt to play him. By the great God beyond, she wouldn’t succeed. Still, cold rage filled his gut with ice as she ignored him completely, turning with pretty grace between the two younger Indigons, who were plainly enthralled.

As any man would be. Her delicate breasts were ready to fall out of that ridiculous excuse for a gown. As she sank into her chair, he glimpsed the dimples at the base of her bare back. Any Indigon lady of wealth and breeding might wear such a gown, but on her—Navos wanted to yank off the nearest tablecloth and throw it around her, covering that pale skin from any eyes other than his own.

He drained his wineglass and signaled for another. Then he turned with determination to his own table. As he did so, his eyes met Craig’s. That ice blue gaze held mingled commiseration and a glint of humor. Navos froze as he realized that to his old friend, if no one else, his jealousy was apparent.

That was unacceptable. He was Indigon, possessed of more mental power than most of those in this huge room combined. No slip of a girl would make a mockery of his superior intellect.

Dinner was an ordeal. In the periphery of his vision an incandescent Nelah flirted and laughed with the Indigons. At his table, he was surrounded by couples. Happy couples. Couples glowing with unions both sensual and spiritual. The Dragolins, the Craigs, even Halix and his lover, Lt. Qwerx of the InterGalactic Police. Their happiness was nauseating.

He wished nothing more than to shove back his chair with a crash, grab the carafe of wine from the center of the table and stalk out of the room. Pride alone kept him from doing so. Dinner was a delicately prepared concoction of Aquarian sole and Pangaean rice and vegetables. He ate with mechanical precision, barely tasting it. He chatted politely with his co-commanders and their mates. He drank more wine than usual.

At last dinner was over and he could rise and walk with Halix and Qwerx to one of the quieter lounges for a game of holo-dice.

As they passed the other Indigons, he heard Nelah ask, a laugh in her voice, if the two younger men had ever danced the samba-lea, a sensual dance performed not with one partner, but in a group. There was a band on board that specialized in this dance from the tropics of Earth II. The thought of her gyrating with these two impressionable young fools made him long to grasp her slender arm and haul her away with him where she could dance for no one but him. He stiffened his spine and his inner control. Clearly the excess wine hadn’t been a good idea.

Navos played one game of holo-dice and then left the other two squabbling happily over who had won the first match. He started at first for his quarters, but then found his footsteps wending toward the ship’s arboretum. The owners of the space transport companies had found crew members, especially those from the verdant planets, remained in much better spirits and thus more productive on the long voyages into the cold outer reaches of space if they had a shipboard retreat that simulated nature.

The small jungle on the top level of the ship had windows overhead so that a panoply of moons and stars were visible through the arching fronds of lush vegetation. Paths wound around the pond and bathrooms were hidden in one of the faux rocks.

Self-supporting, with temperature and humidity control, and recirculating water, it resembled a Pangaean rainforest. Warm breezes rustled in the trees. An occasional birdcall rang over the waterfall splashing into the pond.

It was a place of sensual delights. A place that teased the senses, made one long for a partner to share it. More than one couple was doing so tonight. Navos winced in distaste as he sensed a pair of Serpentians coupling in the underbrush nearby, at least three human couples embracing torridly and even a pair of Barillians at the far end of the place.

His bad humor finally getting the better of him, he sent out a strong wave of empathic power, suggesting to all the couples they really wished to continue their liaisons in their staterooms. Widening his circle of power, he sent the same command to a young couple just entering the doors behind him.

There was a flurry of rustling, smothered laughter and a few growls from impatient males, but at last the footsteps died away and he was alone. And why the seven hells should he always be alone, when others seemed to find it so easy to couple, both physically and emotionally?

And when the woman he wanted was only a few steps away. Flirting with other males. By the great God beyond, he would stand for it no longer. Stopping on the soft moss before the pool, he gazed down into the depths of the warm, clear water and focused his mind.

Chapter Nine

Nelah stood before the restroom mirrors, a tube of plum lip color in her hand. Outside, the infectious beat of a samba-lea throbbed, calling dancers to the floor. Her eyes sparkled a deep blue in her glowing face. She knew she looked her best, holding her own among the other pretty females in the bar. She was having a grand time, dancing and flirting. The two Indigons’ admiration was balm to her wounded soul.

She stilled, her tiny bag forgotten in her hand. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to be alone. Somewhere…moist and green. Somewhere quiet. The arboretum.

Thrusting the lip color into her bag, she slipped out of the restroom and around the back edge of the dance floor, ducking behind two hulking Ceruleans as she saw the Indigons watching for her. They were nice, but they were boys, really.

The arboretum was quiet, hushed, the moist, flower-scented dimness beckoning her in. In its encircling shrubbery the pool glowed, enticing her to its warm, clear depths. Raising her hands to the back of her neck, Nelah unfastened her gown. It fell to her feet in a slither of silk, leaving her clad only in her jewelry and tiny evening sandals. She smiled at the caress of the warm, soft air on her bare curves, feeling deliciously wanton as she unfastened the earrings and bangle and dropped them on the gown.

Kicking off her shoes, she stepped forward into the shallow water. Crooned a low sound of pleasure as it lapped at her ankles. Touched herself, cupping her hands over her breasts. They tightened in response and an answering pleasure throbbed between her thighs. Slowly she slid her hands down over her body, enjoying the slender curves, the play of muscle beneath her skin.

Reaching her mons, she cupped it with one hand and slipped one finger into the silky lips of her labia. Slowly, savoring the rising tension in her pussy, she drew her arousal up over the tiny knot of nerves at the apex. Her clitoris was already swollen and one touch sent a deep shudder through her. With just a few more strokes, she would come.

“Nelah.”

She started violently as her eyes flew open, revealing the man in the shadows of the tropical trees. Navos stood there and she knew with a flash of clarity that he’d watched her performance. She’d never felt so vulnerable, so
naked
in every way.

“Oh! You bastard,” she choked out, feeling a scalding blush flood her face, race down over her throat and breasts. “You called me here.”

“Yes.” She felt his answer in her very core, and shivered as pleasure and need held her on the cusp. His eyes burned across the small space that separated them, hot as molten sapphire, scorching a path down over her naked curves. She swore she could feel the heat on her taut nipples and she gasped as her own touch suddenly seemed hotter, more tantalizing.

He was a shadow in the warm, moist jungle, watching her, ready to devour every nuance of her helpless response. Because she could help herself no longer. She had to have the orgasm waiting for her in her own touch.

“Yes,” he urged gently. “Now, Nelah. I’m watching you.”

With a wild little cry, she began to stroke herself, her wet fingers circling her clitoris hard and swift. Naughty delight suffused her pussy and burst outward. His gaze, his presence in her mind, even her embarrassment made it all the more delicious.

When the small cataclysm was over, she forced herself to open her eyes and lift her chin proudly as she looked back at him.

“You don’t play fair,” she accused. She wanted to slap him, she wanted—

“Neither do you, lovely one. You dressed to tease in that gown and it worked. You may leave if you wish. I won’t hold you against your will.”

Her eyes narrowed as he tugged at her psychically, gently enough she could choose to turn and walk away, or go to him. She took a step toward him and then another, out onto the soft mossy bank, quaking deep inside with need for more of what she’d just experienced. The memory of holding him deep in her vulnerable core made her melt. She could feel the moisture of her arousal on her inner thighs.

“You do have your uses, Commander.”

She inhaled deeply as she stepped into his arms, drawing his male fragrance in, heady and intoxicating. His heat called to her, urging her to press her own bare curves against him, shivering with delight at the hardness of his larger, clothed frame against her own smaller, softer one.

She smiled with secret delight as she measured their differences. He was the alpha creature here, more powerful in both the physical and the psychic realms. And he was hers to pleasure and be pleasured in return.

She opened her mouth on his throat, tasting him as she rubbed herself against him. His arms tightened and through his snug flight suit she felt his erection against her belly. She moaned softly, her fingers digging into his back. She wanted him inside her, now.

“Have me.”

“Oh, I most certainly shall.”

Before her next breath, Nelah found herself flipped around and set on her hands and knees in the soft moss. She was shocked, but apparently he found this position satisfactory, for he dropped to his knees between hers so her bare bottom was displayed for him to look at and touch.

She opened her mouth to protest, but then his large fingers stroked her from stem to stern and she dug her fingers into the moss, biting back a soft cry. He did it again, and she moved helplessly, offering herself to him, arching her back.

“Do you want me?”

“Yes!” she cried. Beyond shame, she waited only for the broad head of his penis to replace his fingers. He inserted two fingers into her pussy and drew them apart so that she was open, waiting. When he paused, she knew he required more before he would give her what she wanted, needed. She opened her mind and let him in, all the way.