Dangerously Yours: 2 (Loving Dangerously) (10 page)

The material stretched slightly but not by much. She needed bottoms. She rummaged through the closet and grabbed a pair of loose-fitting pants. She held them up to her legs. Too long. With a flick of the wrist, she dropped those and grabbed the next pair—drab gray,
yuck
. She let the pants slip from her fingertips.

Sa’Mya sifted through the rest of the garments.

Cheap…inferior material…this color makes me nauseous.

The Loconuist should have invaded Earth for no other reason than crimes against fashion.

This wouldn’t do at all. No matter what the captain’s plans were, she needed her clothes.

Sa’Mya went to the communication panel. The open-channel button was so tempting. The captain had already yelled at her once, she wouldn’t call for him again. She punched every other button besides
that
one. “Moira? Nebin? Yazmine?” she called with each try.

“What,” Kane bellowed from the intercom as she finished the second row.

I didn’t want him.
“I’m ready for my clothes. Send Moira to attend to me.” She released the button but quickly selected it again. “Please,” she added.

“What? Do you need help? Ryan isn’t here to translate.”

“Argh. Clothes, you ignorant son of a
Trnornin
slime worm. Clothes,” she yelled.

“I can’t understand you, but if you have an emergency press the button twice.”

Sa’Mya did as he instructed.

“If I come all the way there and it’s not an emergency, I will send you out the air lock. Now press the button twice if you have an emergency.”

She reached for the button but pulled her hand away. “You are such a
Hkerian
toad.”

“I thought so. Now do whatever princesses do until I return. I know you can’t be missing me already.” He laughed, hard and throaty, before the line went dead.

With a slew of curses, she slumped on the bed.

Who does he think he’s messing with? I’m Princess Sa’Mya of Laconia. Soon to be queen. Oh, right. He doesn’t know.

Sa’Mya threw an arm across her face and groaned.

* * * * *

Kane sat back in his chair and chuckled. He couldn’t understand her but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she had cussed him out. She couldn’t comb her own hair or dress herself but she could cuss. The thought amused him.

She had a temper on her, that was for sure. He couldn’t blame her aides for going buck wild the first chance they got. They were probably overjoyed to be away from the selfish and self-absorbed princess. He had every intention of allowing her the aides and trunks of clothes.

After I bring her to heel.

He imagined her now, sitting on his bed, arms crossed over her voluptuous breasts, light-red pouting lips contrasting against radiant skin. Even with knots in her hair, he remembered the silky strands running through his fingers. Kane flexed his hands.

Anna.
He grabbed his armrest.

I won’t, no, can’t soil her memory. Anna, my heart, was so good to me. The love of my life. Just the thought of touching…or fucking that alien in my cabin is unfaithful.

Anna wouldn’t have wanted him to live the rest of his life lonely and bitter. She would’ve wanted him to be happy no matter what. But even after all this time, he couldn’t shake the memory of her death. The nightmares of her charred body, burned beyond recognition, still plagued him. And the babies… Guilt would never let him rest.

He should have made her stay at his back. He should have protected her better. He punched his armrest until his fist turned red. Only then did he stop to rub his hand, encouraging the feeling to return.

The emptiness weighed down on him. His chest tightened. His heart had already begun to beat sporadically. He did what he always did when the loneliness crept up on him.

Kane initiated the window release. Low humming came from the metal that slid over invisible tracks, hidden beneath the structure of the walls. The front-view window became larger as the protective covering slid away.

Kane melted into his chair and let the view of the stars and planets envelope him. The vastness of space made him calmer. It always did. Most times he would relieve Ryan so he could have a moment of peace here. Ever since the little Indian man he had shared a space with on the Loconuist vessel explained his Hindu belief of reincarnation to him, Kane had a sense of serenity when he watched the stars. The Hindus believed when a person died, their soul was reincarnated in another body.

He and Anna weren’t Hindus but the idea made him feel better…at peace. According to the Hindus, Anna could be out there somewhere, given a second chance at life. That thought always put him at ease.

Eventually he might find a woman and settle down. Hell, why not? Three of his former crewmates had done just that. Ryan could take over as captain. Ryan would be more than able to keep everyone in check and out of trouble.

Maybe they would all settle in one place someday. Even Jess. But that would require her to let down her guard. Something he didn’t see her doing anytime soon. He speculated the reason for her dress and demeanor was to push away as many males as possible. She loathed anything feminine. Those qualities had been lost a long time ago.

Where Jess avoided everything feminine, the princess seemed to embrace it. Hell, even as a prisoner, the princess acted as though she were too good to eat food off her lap. He’d seen Jess scarf down food out of a box, standing up and using her bare hands.

He tried to picture Jess in the same gown the princess wore and came up short. First of all, Jess would put a blaster to his temple for even suggesting the idea and second, no one could fill that dress out as Princess Sa’Mya did. Nothing matched the way Sa’Mya’s dress hung over her breasts, curves and hips. And the slits that ran up the sides, in a word, were dangerous. The slits gave him an unencumbered view of her long legs.

Shit.

Looking at his dick, he groaned.

If I have to jack myself off again, I’m going to lose it.

There was one woman onboard he could sate himself with. He called for Jess. The princess was invading his head.

Damn, what is that alien doing to me?

Jess didn’t make him wait long. She entered and folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the wall. “What?”

Great. She’s still mad.

Kane swiveled to face her. He rubbed the outline of his throbbing cock that bulged under his pants.

Jess smirked. “You think you can call me just because your dick decided to get hard?”

“I didn’t want it to go to waste. Besides…” He continued to caress the length of his cock.

Jess pushed off the wall and sauntered toward him with a predatory gait. “Well, you do owe me for last night. But don’t get any ideas, this doesn’t change anything.”

“I owe you. That’s all. I know this doesn’t change anything.” He slowly pulled down the front of his pants. His cock sprang free.

Between heavy eyelids, Jess watched it twitch and bounce with need. She licked her lips and dropped to her knees in front of him.

This was why he dealt with her. No pretty words needed. No compliments expected. He held his cock by the base and palmed her head, pushing her open mouth over his dick.

Jess moaned as she greedily engulfed him. She relaxed her throat, sliding all the way down to the hilt. A skill she learned in the brothel. She raised her head only to spit on the tip. Tightly, she fisted his swollen shaft and pumped. She spit two more times, working it in as lubrication. Her tongue flicked out to swirl his slit. Kane groaned as her head descended again.

Kane leaned back and sighed. He needed this to forget about the princess. Jess’ tongue swirled on his head again before her mouth slid down the length of him. The muscles in his jaw tightened as she made another slow descent to the base. She was an expert but to tell her so would get his ass kicked. He sifted his fingers through her short, brown, spiky hair.

If only these were golden locks.

Kane stiffened.
Shit, not again.

Jess lifted her head. “I’m going to suck your dick so good.”

Kane winced. Jess didn’t have Sa’Mya’s lyrical voice.

Her strong hands grabbed his cock, fisting it.

“Feed me your big, hot dick,” she said in what he imagined to be her sexy voice.
Argh
.

Kane squeezed his eyelids tighter, trying to block out the visual in front of him. It didn’t work, his erection faded fast.

He imagined a golden beauty on her knees. His stomach flipped and heat spread across his skin. Instead of calloused hands, he imagined soft ones gently rubbing his balls, milking them from his core. His cock throbbed and pulsed with engorgement.

“That’s right. I want this big dick inside me.”

Erection gone.
Damn.

Jess planted her mouth on his cock and continued to suck, trying to coax his limp cock to a more glorious size. Nothing.

She let his shaft drop in a flaccid heap on his thigh. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

Kane pulled his pants over his traitorous member. “Sorry. I thought I was ready.”

Jess straightened in a huff. “You know what? I’m so tired of dealing with you. Your wife is dead—gone. I’m not waiting around for you to get hard anymore.”

She didn’t offer him a backward glance before she left.

If she’d turned, she would have seen the stunned look on his face. His wife had not been the female in his thoughts.

Holy shit. What’s wrong with me?

“Sire.” Aiden bent his head and approached the hand-carved desk that was specially made for Umar. “We have lost contact with the transporter carrying the princess.”

Aiden’s hands shook as he twisted them together. He fought the urge to fiddle with his meager brown servant robe. He hated talking directly to Umar and especially coming to his office. Unfortunately, he would have this job from now on, seeing how the previous aide had been “reassigned”.

Umar’s office had more space and furniture than any of the servant’s quarters. All the furniture was expertly crafted by the finest artists and made from highly coveted
Dostrian
wood. His furniture had been transported across the galaxy by armed guard. Yes, it was that expensive.

The paintings on the walls and the glass vases and statues lining the shelves were also done by the galaxy’s highly coveted artisans. Just like Umar’s personal quarters, his office dripped with an abundance of credits.

Umar seemed to ignore him. The fact that Umar’s menacing eyes weren’t glaring at him should have made Aiden feel better. But it only put Aiden on high alert.

“Sire,” Aiden said again, this time projecting his shaky voice louder. Umar opened one light-colored eye and stared at Aiden through a narrow slit. Aiden inhaled and quickly stepped away. “We…we have lost contact with the transporter.”

“Explain yourself.” Umar closed his eye again and Aiden inwardly sighed. Umar’s bald head swayed slightly in time with the music, the epitome of calm and relaxation. From experience, Aiden knew differently. He maintained his distance.

“Our contact has not reported in. Her last transmission was three rotations ago.”

Umar continued to sway, seemingly unperturbed. Despite his massive girth, Umar could lunge forward and smack down a servant without a hint of emotion or remorse. Aiden had been on the receiving end of such violent outbursts on many occasions. The scars left by Umar’s diamond rings dotted Aiden’s face and back.

Aiden stood anxiously for several minutes before Umar calmly asked, “What were their last coordinates?”

“Sonis, Sire.”

Umar grabbed a glass statue from his desk and hurled it. Aiden ducked. The statue whizzed past his ear to hit the wall, where it shattered into shiny black pieces behind him.

“I want the credits offered for her return doubled.” Peering through the slits of his eyes, Umar leaned across his desk to whisper, “I want her alive.”

Aiden scurried from Umar’s office to carry out the tyrant’s orders. He felt sorry for his princess. But what could he do? Refusal to follow Umar’s order would result in a nasty ending to his otherwise tolerable life.

Umar relaxed into his seat as the aide scurried away. The palace staff feared him. Good. He enjoyed the unrelenting power—power he planned to enjoy for many more cycles to come.

He had earned it. Umar’s lips formed into a tight, thin line. He had waited so long, biding his time, waiting on his older sister, the former queen, hand and foot. No one had been happier than he when the crowned King of Laconia had fallen in love with Umar’s sister, a commoner.

Umar had positioned himself at her side. He had been her closest confidant, giving her advice, offering her solace. It had been natural for his sister to make him her personal advisor.

When had the tides turned? When had Umar realized he could run the palace better than the king and queen? He did not know.