Amorous Overnight (15 page)

He gave one of his regal nods. “Although it’s unnecessary, your apology is accepted.”

“And there’s one more thing,” she said, her heart pounding thickly now, “something I wanted to do this afternoon that I haven’t been able to get out of my mind, and I think I need to do it because just saying thank you doesn’t feel like enough. If you were anyone but the minister of the Garathani high council, I probably wouldn’t even ask—I’d just do it without thinking about it.”

He tipped his head curiously.

Taking a deep breath, she asked, “May I hug you?”

For a moment he just looked at her, but before the awkwardness made her panic, he smiled again, slowly. “I suppose I can bear it if you can, tiny Terran.”

She released the breath and smiled in return. “Okay then.”

Standing, she closed the distance between them. He didn’t move at all, but left it entirely up to her, so she crawled up to kneel on the couch beside him. Then she slid her arms around his neck, trying in vain not to notice how insanely good he smelled as she hugged him with what she hoped was a proper balance of circumspection and sincerity.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his hair.

His arms closed around her waist and pulled her against him. “It was my pleasure, Ms. Bonham. And thank
you
. I’ve received far too few of these in my lifetime.”

Oh hell, he just had to go and say that, didn’t he?

Shelley hugged his neck tighter and then pulled back and kissed the jagged scar on his cheek for good measure. Quickly, so she didn’t give in to temptation and do something unforgivably stupid, like lick his delicious-smelling skin or slide her mouth down to suck his delicious-looking lips.

His hold tightened too. “And I’ve definitely received far too few of those,” he rumbled in her ear. Nuzzled her ear.

Wait, was he sniffing her?

Heat rippled through her and she pulled back instinctively, but his arms kept her hips firmly against his side, her stomach against his ribs. His expression had grown harsh, his gray eyes dark and intent under the auburn slashes of his brows. The abrupt change sent an intoxicating shot of adrenaline into her veins. Was he pissed off…or turned on?

She licked her lips nervously and then gasped when he growled.

At that moment, Hastion stumbled through the same door the minister had emerged from and Shelley’s eyes just about fell out of her head. His face was pale, his long brown hair ruffled and clumped with sweat, and his suit was hanging open while he tried to wrestle his arms into the inside-out sleeves—

And damned if his magnificent cock wasn’t swinging from the wide-open crotch.

She must have made some kind of noise because he froze, goggling first at her and then at the minister.

“Shit!” Going bright red, he spun around to face away from her, his hands scrabbling frantically at his crotch.

Without looking away from her, the minister murmured, “I believe I told you not to move, Ensign.”

As his words sank in, the implications of the scene finally dawned on her, sucking every bit of air from of her lungs.

Holy Mother of God, they were having sex!

And she’d interrupted.

Chapter Seven

Peserin’s hell, could this evening get any worse?

Hastion closed his eyes as the conflict inside him escalated to screaming intensity. So much for escaping—not that he’d had any idea where he was going. He’d thought the minister was in the shower. Why in the name of all the Powers hadn’t he said they were no longer alone in the suite? Why was he holding Shelley just minutes after their encounter? Why was she letting him?

For that matter, what was she doing here in the first place?

His hands shook and his stomach churned as he struggled with the tab of his suit, keeping his back to them. And yet his unprincipled cock swelled with excitement at having been on display for her. If he hadn’t known it before, this would have confirmed how deviant he truly was.

“Oh my God, I’m—I’m so sorry,” Shelley stuttered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll just, uh…go.”

Hastion went hot and cold with every awkward word that came out of her mouth. Shelley knew. She’d seen enough to draw exactly the correct conclusion.

“You didn’t interrupt anything, Ms. Bonham,” the minister said easily. “You needn’t rush off.”

Fuck you, sir.

“Um, yeah,” she half laughed, clearly oblivious to Hastion’s raging turmoil. “Wow, yeah, I…really need. To go, that is. I mean, I still need to get in my meditation and yoga, and then get up early tomorrow and do it again before I run, so, um…I guess I’ve said what I came to say so I really should go. But thank you again, Minister. I appreciate everything you’ve done more than I can say.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“Okay, well good night then.” After a moment’s pause, she said, “Good night, Hastion.”

He grimaced, still facing away from her. “Good night, Shelley.”

When the quiet scrape of the door closing let him know she’d departed, Hastion cursed. “Bedamned suit!”

Saying nothing, Cecine stepped in front of him and brushed his trembling hands aside.

“I wish you had told me she was here, sir,” Hastion muttered, looking anywhere but up at him.

“Forgive me for expecting my orders to be obeyed without question, Ensign. It’s an unfortunate habit of mine as minister of the high council.” Cecine yanked the tab up roughly and the closure caught a bit of the underside of Hastion’s cock. Though the pain was breathtaking, he would have slit his own throat before making a sound.

“Thank you, sir.” Dismayed by the bitterness that crept into his tone, he added more genially as he turned away, “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

The minister held up a restraining hand. “Not so fast, Ensign.”

Hastion sighed. Peserin, he was tired. His ass burned, his cock stung where it was caught, and his tailbone hurt where the minister’s spur had rammed it repeatedly. All he wanted now was to be alone. “Yes, sir?”

“I should see to the wound on your spine before you flee.”

A bilious mass of conflicting emotions surged into the back of his throat and he wished anew he were the sort of male who could answer such an insult with a hair-raising roar and a sound thrashing.

Instead, he met the minister’s sardonic gaze head on. “It’s fine, sir. And I’m not fleeing. I was going to the training center for a hydration bottle. Will that be all?”

“No, it will not.” It was Cecine’s turn to sigh as he scrubbed a palm over his face. “I find I must apologize again.”

“For what?”

“I was too rough.”

Hastion shook his head. “No, sir. You warned me you would give me no quarter and I agreed to it.”

“If I draw blood, it’s too rough,” Cecine said flatly.

“If you say so, sir. May I go now? I’m tired and must bathe before I retire.”

“I thought you were thirsty.”

Hastion shrugged. “I’ll drink water from the shower.”

“You haven’t eaten yet.”

“I’m never hungry after I spar, sir.”

The minister hesitated and then nodded. “I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow then.”

Hastion walked away without replying and entered his room, almost unbearably relieved to be alone.

“I fucking give up,” he whispered. Stripping off his uniform, he dropped it in the sanitizer and then stepped into the shower.

“Shower on full, overhead spray only.” When the water emerged instantly at the preset temperature, he doused his head and then ordered, “Raise water temperature ten degrees.”

“Safety restrictions do not permit a water temperature of more than one hundred twelve—”

“One hundred twelve is fine, Empran,” he said tiredly.

When the tension in his muscles had finally melted away, he sank to the floor and sat with his eyes closed and arms clasped loosely around his drawn-up knees, wishing the rain of hot water could wash away the rest of him.

Shelley scurried back to her quarters as fast as her chubby little legs would carry her. Once she was safely in her bedroom, she leaned back against the sponge-covered wall with her hand over her pounding heart.

“Oh my fucking God,” she breathed, her face still burning with embarrassment. What an idiot! There she’d gone all thrills and chills thinking the minister might be putting the moves on her, and he’d just come from putting the moves on Hastion.

Hastion!

Jesus, why hadn’t she realized it sooner? Of course Hastion was gay—he was nice. And the minister was nice. And just like humans, all the nice aliens were either taken or gay. Or both.

She whimpered at the memory of Hastion’s very impressive package dangling from his open uniform. She’d seen it before, up on stage at the mating demonstration, and she’d done her best to forget that he was twice as much man as she’d ever had in her bed. But there’d be no forgetting this sighting. Even half-hard, he was magnificent.

And the minister…

Holy crap! She’d already been eye-licking his delicious skin, sculpted chest and ripped alien abs, and when he stood up after their friendly little moment, the enormous tent in his pants had sent her temperature soaring. She’d had to clench her hands to keep from peeling them down so she could get a look at his mighty tent pole. Seeing him in nothing but the Garathani version of a Speedo earlier had jump-started her libido in a historic way, and being squeezed in his arms had sent electric currents of need from her sensitive breasts to the aching flesh between her legs.

But knowing he was hiding freaking Cockzilla beneath his heavy robe…

She shuddered. Had he gotten hard because of her, or because Hastion walked in?

Duh, Hastion, of course—why would he get an erection over a short, fat mother of two when he had the epitome of masculine beauty waiting in his bedroom? If she weren’t so envious, the thought of the two of them getting it on would have totally rocked her world.

Shelley immediately thumped herself on the forehead.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
She had no business getting hormonal over aliens, no matter how knuckle-bitingly gorgeous they were, and she certainly had no business being jealous.

Just…why did they have to be so damn
nice
? Keeping her distance had been getting hard enough before the minister saved her parents’ lives, and now that she’d had a taste of him, all she wanted to do was lick him all over, and then lean down a little—because at her height, a little was all it would take—and suck his big, delicious cock. While alternately sucking Hastion’s big, delicious cock, porn-queen style.

“Argh!” Shelley tore at her hair. She had to stop thinking like this or she’d go insane.

And she had to do something about this whirlpool of sexual energy pulsing low in her belly, before she did something she’d regret, like beg one of them to let her suck his big, delicious cock and then fuck her into an altered state.

Screw meditation and yoga. She needed to make herself come until she couldn’t come any more.

Stripping off her clothes and dropping them on the floor, she climbed quickly onto the bunk and pulled the blanket up to her neck. Even if she weren’t so overweight, knowing the flare fields that served as mirrors and lights could be used for covert observation would have cured her of any desire to lounge around naked.

Not that anybody had any reason to observe her, but why take the chance?

“Empran, lights out, please.”

The overhead flare immediately faded to black. Alone in the dark, Shelley sighed and, for the first time in over a year, slid her hand between her legs.

Hoping to quiet his inner turmoil by covertly joining Shelley in her evening relaxation exercises, Cecine flared into her sleeping chamber and was surprised to find it completely dark. Had she retired? Surely not. He’d been watching her intently when the ensign appeared and seen the exact instant she grasped the situation between them. Her reaction had seemed rather conflicted—surprise, dismay, intrigue, embarrassment…and arousal. Definitely arousal. There’d been no mistaking the heat of it, either in her gaze or her scent. He found it difficult to believe she’d just run back to her room and gone to sleep. In fact, he’d been certain she might require more meditation than usual to calm herself.

But when the observation field concealing him automatically adjusted to night optics, there she was, already tucked into her bunk. She murmured, and his eyes widened when he realized her hands were moving under the thin blanket, one at her breast and the other between her spread thighs.

Heat exploded through him. Shelley was masturbating on his ship. That was why she was already in bed. She hadn’t even taken the time to put on the nightgown she usually wore—her shoulders were bare above the blanket.

If he weren’t concealed in an observation flare, his growl of frustration would have alerted her to his presence. Curse the damn blanket—he wanted to see her! If he had any chivalry at all, he’d leave, but he was mesmerized. Was this the first time she’d pleasured herself on his ship? If so, what was she picturing behind her tightly closed eyelids?