The Colonel's Man (9 page)

“Annoyin… Right, I am
not
having this conversation with you, Scott.”

Irritation, anger and something else crossed her face as she turned fully to him. Her eyes were furious as she backed him up against the wall, her finger prodding his chest.

“We were undercover with a specific mission goal to fulfill. It needed to be believable so, by the spirits, we made it believable. I don’t know how your previous unit did things but here, we achieve the mission goals by whatever means necessary. Half shagging you up against a wall? Not a problem, I’d have gotten down and dirty with half that damn security team if it had gotten that list out of Julian’s clutches and kept our men and women out there safe. Do you have a problem with that?”

He didn’t like being cornered and he shifted sideways so he leaned against the wall, helping with some privacy. Not that it helped much because they were already yelling.

“Yeah!”

The response was out before he could even think about it. The idea of her fucking the security team…his fist hit the bulkhead next to him with a force that would have been painful but he felt nothing. His rage had numbed him.

“So you’re telling me that you would have let yourself get fucked by anyone, by all those men if it meant you accomplished the mission parameters? That’s very noble of you, lady!”

She didn’t flinch at his anger or the sound of his fist hitting the wall, just got up in his face even more, her expression furious.

“Noble has nothing to do with it. We…
I
don’t get it right, and people die. And you want to be pissy with me because you’re upset we went a little too far? I’m sorry if that offended your sensibilities…or that we didn’t have a younger model to soothe your male ego…but we work with what we’ve got and that means you’re stuck with me.”

“Why are you so hung up with how old you are? I don’t understand that. It has nothing to do with why I’m pissed off.”

“Well, what the fuck
are
you pissed off about?” She glared at him. “Because when I picked you and Michaels up, I thought I was getting two professional operatives.”

Because you make me horny as hell and it's driving me insane!
“Lady,” he snarled down at her. “Had I been any less professional, you would have died strung up like a pig in that warehouse. Or worse…”

“Worse? I’d already broken his bloody neck and was working on getting myself out of there when you and your partner showed up. So don’t give me that!”

He snorted.

“Really? Pipsqueak like you hanging beaten, up three feet from the floor? And yeah worse. Someone who looks like you, who gets herself caught like that is certainly gonna be the main entertainment for a block party in that hellhole.”

“So we’ve done the fact you think I was unprofessional in letting you touch me during the mission, and now we’re onto that I’m basically crap at my job? Is there anything else you’d like to throw into the mix, handsome?”

He raised a finger and opened his mouth as if to raise a point but no sound came out. He dropped his head and shook it as he sighed in frustration. “Yeah, Drew’s right. I’m a dick.”

“Yeah, I’d listen to your partner. He sounds like a sensible guy.” She sighed, and stepped back a little to consider him with a confused expression. “Now is there anything else you want to argue about before I go and argue with Admiral Buchanan?”

“No ma’am.”

He let out a breath and started back where he came from before. He had taken a few steps when he stopped and spoke over his shoulder. “Yes, there is. You look great in that uniform.”

* * *

Hours later, Jason had worn himself out in the gym, had three cold showers, but still couldn’t sleep. As soon as he closed his eyes all he could see was Arita in that sexy cocktail dress, or the image of her as she slowly stripped off the formal uniform.

“Ugh. You, Jason, are a sick man,” he told himself as he pulled a pillow over his face. He needed to sleep, wanted to get up early to try and hit the gym at the same time as she did. Just to check that she was healing okay…after all, it was less than a couple of days since she’d taken a round to the side. Turning over, he pummeled the pillow, about to drop his head onto it when a scream split the air from the corridor outside.

In a flash he had slipped on a pair of shorts and had his sidearm in hand ready to do some damage as he ran outside, clearing the corridor and looking for the source of the ear piercing shriek. Drew appeared a second later with his own pistol in hand as the two exchanged confused looks.

Another scream and this time it seemed to come from the quarters next door.
Arita’s quarters.

She sounded like she was being murdered and Jason couldn’t think of anything else but kicking down her door and tearing apart with his bare hands whatever was hurting her. He ran to her door with Drew close behind.

Another scream rent the corridor, followed by muffled sounds… Jason leaned in to try and hear. Was that sobbing?

An ensign chose that moment to step out of the lift, and looked at the two of them in surprise for a moment before he too heard the noises from behind Arita’s door and his face cleared.

“Just ignore it, guys. The boss gets nightmares. You’ll get used to it.”

“What? Nightmares?” Jason said as he looked at the door. “You mean this goes on every night?”

“No, not really, but most nights. Try not to let it bother you.” The ensign said in passing before he disappeared into his own quarters.

The screams. Jason had heard them before too but in the deep timbres of his own voice. Theirs was a dark world and demons haunted them in their sleep. The idea that she was being tormented like this pulled at every protective instinct that he had.

“You heard the man, mate. Let’s go get some sleep.” Drew stifled a yawn as he headed back to his own quarters.

Jason paused for a moment. “Yeah, sleep sounds good.”

He turned with the other man but slowed down. As the door slid shut behind the tall heavy-worlder, Jason pulled a one-eighty and headed back to Arita’s door. She was still crying, the soft sounds all but ripping him in two.

He hesitated for only a few seconds before he tapped the chime. No response. He tapped it again. She was still crying and he gritted his teeth in frustration. The door-lock was Alliance fleet standard for personal quarters and after a quick but careful bypass to avoid alarming security, he closed the circuit and the door opened with a swish.

It was dark inside and his eyes took a moment to adjust. He could hear her whimpering and wisely decided to leave his side arm on a nearby table before he went any closer.

She was curled up in the corner of the bed, a small ball wrapped in the duvet. The snuffling sounds were quieter now, but occasionally a hiccup and a sigh would shake the covers. Then it would start again.

Jason wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to soothing tormented women. Most men would try the direct approach, but that wasn’t so easy, or wise, when the woman you were trying to help was capable of killing you seventeen different ways with her bare hands.

Despite the risk, he had to try. Nothing else mattered but to soothe her pain, to help take away what was tormenting her. He’d probably get hurt but he wasn’t thinking of himself when he gently sat next to her and touched her shoulder.

She moved before he’d registered the touch of his hand on her skin. In a heartbeat he found himself flat on his back on the bed, a viciously sharp blade to his throat and the weight of his far too attractive commanding officer straddling his hips.

“Who the f…
Jason?
What the hell are you doing in here?”

He pretty much expected this and kept his hands at his sides, avoiding any other movements. She was fresh from being woken up from a nightmare and she had a knife at his throat. Not a good idea to try anything.

“I heard you screaming. Crying. I wanted to see if you were alright.”

She seemed to realize she still held the blade at his throat and moved it. The blade folded away and disappeared out of sight but she didn’t move, still frowning at him. He resisted the urge to smile. With a confused expression on her face, the frown making the ridges down to the tip of her small nose dance, and her hair a tousled mess around her face, she instantly re-defined his mental image of cute.

“You broke into my room to check that I was okay?”

“I thought you were being gutted or something at first. Then I heard you crying. I tried the chime but you weren’t answering.”

He realized he rather liked her straddling him like this, even if she could have killed him. In his mind he could easily imagine her straddling him for an entirely different reason and with far less clothing.

“Huh.”

Her reply was a soft grunt rather than a word, and she blinked sleepily. Combat capable, but not really awake, he realized and took a chance. Hands around her waist he eased her down and onto her side.

“You really don’t understand what’s going on do you?” His voice was soft as he slowly stroked her back. He knew she didn’t wear perfume but she smelled nice and he figured she must use a different shampoo before she went to bed because her hair smelled like flowers.

She yawned and settled, not into the pillows but against him. “I screamed. You broke in to check on me. I nearly sliced your throat. In a moment, when I can be bothered to move, I plan to kick your ass and throw you out.”

*

His glance at the bedside table caught a glass of water and a medication pack which he deduced held something to help her sleep. He chuckled softly as he held her close. “Well until that happens, I’m just gonna stay here and try to see if I can cop a feel while you sleep.”

She chuckled softly. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Yeah, so I’ve been told. If it starts to hurt too much, I’d be very happy to massage it for you.”

She lifted a hand to punch his arm, but the blow had nothing behind it. Jason chuckled as he caught it easily, bringing it to his lips to kiss along her knuckles. He liked this, liked the softness he now saw was hidden under the hard mask she wore, liked that she was comfortable enough to share it with him, albeit under the influence of whatever the docs had her on so she could sleep.

And it wasn’t all the drugs; she could have called security at any time and had him removed from her room. Hell, she could have had him thrown in the brig and left to rot. But she hadn’t. Instead she was nestled tight into his side, her head pillowed by his arm. Not quite what he’d had in mind when he’d envisioned getting into her bed.

Long minutes passed and her soft even breaths whispered against his neck. She was asleep. He watched her for a while. The mouth that he knew to be soft and sweet was parted slightly. He fought the urge to kiss her again. Damn. Holding her this close was doing all sorts of things to him again and didn’t help with the perpetual hard-on he had.

But he wasn’t so much of a jackass to try anything right now even if his body was screaming at him to ignore his morals. His presence in her bed was an implied trust and he couldn’t betray that. He couldn’t betray her. But he couldn’t just stay here without touching her.

He reached up and slowly brushed the hair away from her face. She was so beautiful. He lightly touched her facial ridges, careful not to wake her. When he reached the tip of her nose, she stirred and he smiled as she wrinkled her nose in annoyance.

He was still smiling as he closed his eyes and not long after, he too drifted into the oblivion of sleep.

Arita swept into the gym with a spring in her step even though she was late. She was normally in the gym at five, but it was already pushing six and she still needed to work out.

“Good morning, gentlemen…and I do use that term loosely,” she chirped as she passed Drew and Jason slugging it out on the exercise mats. Jason smiled at her, taking his attention off Drew for the moment, which earned him a hard right to the jaw as his partner took advantage of his distraction.

She chuckled as he picked himself up off the mat. “Eyes on the prize, Scott, or you’ll be back down there.”

Crossing to the punch bag, she dropped her towel on the bench and started to pull on her gloves. Lightly padded over the knuckles, they protected her skin from grazes and cuts. She personally didn’t give a rat’s ass what her hands looked like, but the higher up’s got edgy when faced with evidence that she might actually…
shock, horror
…have to use violence occasionally. Something to do with humanity’s weirdness about women and combat. She’d never understood it.

Stepping up to the bag she rolled her shoulders and deliberately avoided the temptation to look over at Scott again. Stripped to the waist, all the satin skin and heavy muscle she wanted to explore with her fingers and lips was on display. She had to ignore it, or she’d think too much. And thinking too much brought her to last night, and the fact that her dreams were filled with being held in a strong, protective embrace. Her sheets had still held his warmth and scent this morning when she’d woken, tipping her off that her dream-visitor had been a little more substantial.