“Too much?” The bastard, he’s taunting me.
“On your back,” I manage to order.
It’s his turn. Maybe I don’t know his hot spots automatically, but I’ll figure it out. With a smirk, March rolls over and I run my hands over his body, caressing here and there. Gauging his reaction. Grinning wickedly, I settle astride, my thighs framing his. He shudders beneath me when he feels my slick skin. My weight amplifies the sensation, and I seesaw on him, watching his face.
“Jax…” Now he’s the one gasping, although it feels fragging amazing to me, too, as I run my hands up his chest. I see the scars I speculated about so long ago, long and livid. Yeah, he’s seen combat. The one above his hip looks like they almost got him. That gives me a twinge that I don’t like.
“I’m just using you for sex,” I remind him, husky and low.
“So use me.” His abdominal muscles ripple and go tight as he struggles to hold himself still. “Use me, Jax.”
I need no further invitation. Taking him in my palm, I give him a squeeze, which elicits a groan, then I simply hold him steady and sink down. His hands come to my hips, guiding me.
Oh Mary, that’s so good.
March doesn’t need to be told how I want to ride him. We fill the room with liquid sounds and our labored breathing. Sometimes he moans; sometimes I do. I love the feel of his hands roving my body, demanding and possessive, pulling me down.
I feel the pressure building as I move on him, sweet, delicious heat, then he flicks his fingers down there again. My whole body locks. He rolls with me then, pushing my legs up.
“My turn,” he whispers.
And I don’t have the energy to resist as he takes me his way, rotating his hips in slow, steady thrusts. I’m so relaxed that at first I don’t register the tingles surging through me. Again? Really?
Then I hear March inside my head, just as he’s inside my body. Again, Jax. I’m using you for sex.
Right now, I feel like that’s about the best news I’ve ever heard.
CHAPTER 30
I sneak out like I’m leaving the scene of a crime.
As I dart into my quarters, part of me feels that I am, actually. I know it doesn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t touch what I felt for Kai. Because I’m alive, and I’m a biological organism, I know I need to be touched, but that awareness doesn’t assuage my guilt. In some ways I think it would’ve been better if I’d picked Hon for some throwaway sex because I wouldn’t have to see him on a daily basis hereafter.
In fact, I’m not entirely sure why March cared whether I slept with Hon. Maybe it’s a man thing, which is stupid. It’s not like I’m untouched. Between my marriage breaking down and falling in love with Kai, I did my share of fucking around.
But there was no premeditation with Kai; one night we were drinking and dancing, right after we tagged the beacon nearest the Belsev system—and he asked me how come we’d never slept together. He knew most jumpers and pilots do test the waters at least once, so he was wondering if I didn’t find him attractive. That certainly wasn’t the case; he was adorable, blond boyish good looks.
I didn’t have an answer, so after some more drinking, we wound up naked. And it was fantastic. He was fun in bed, playful, but his best quality had to be how he listened. When he propped his chin on his hand and gazed at you with those liquid green eyes, you knew you were the only person in his world right then.
God, I miss him.
He certainly wasn’t your typical man. Sometimes I’d try to make him jealous, point out someone I thought was delicious, and he’d give me a deceptively mild smile. “Go ahead,” he’d say. “Try someone else if you want. But he won’t be me.”
No, baby. He’ll never be you.
First time we talked about commitment, he said, “I don’t believe in that, Siri. People stay true as long as they want to, regardless of spoken promises or legally imposed obligations. But we’re good together, and I want to be with you as long as you want me back.”
I meant to clean up, but instead I drop down on my bunk, startled by the yearning that overtakes me. Who knew sex would make me feel so fragging lonely? There’s a dull throb inside me, the ache of long-unused muscles, and I press my knees together, trying to forget what I’ve just done.
If I let myself, I could cry, but I’ve done far too much of that in the last few weeks. Instead, I measure my breathing until the urge subsides; and then I do take that shower, washing away the evidence. Maybe this is no revelation, but it feels like one to me; good sex just isn’t enough. I won’t do that again for a while.
I dress in somber clothing that covers me neck to ankle, permitting no glimpse of skin. Now I’m not sure what to do; I don’t want to sleep with Hon anymore, but I imagine he’s not a man who handles rejection well, not that he receives much of it. Still, I’m not accomplishing anything cowering in my quarters, so I head out.
Although I know it’s beyond idiotic, I can’t help skulking, peeking around doorways, then making a dash for the engine room, where I find a spare remote. I pocket that. I’d like to avoid March for the next five to ten turns. Failing that, a day or two will suffice. I retrace my steps, and I’m surprised to find the door out of the docking bay opens for me automatically. I guess it’s been coded to recognize me, a measure I didn’t expect so quickly, and it makes me wonder what Hon’s planning.
To my surprise, the party seems to be over. I would have guessed such things went on all night; shows what I know. There’s just a few scruffy spacers left playing Charm, and they peer at me over their cards.
“Looking for the boss?” One of them smirks at me.