Stowaway (17 page)

So beautiful. Damn him, why’d he have to be so hot? Why did he have to show up and make this huge mess out of Raine’s perfectly nice life? Why did Raine have to love him?

“Can’t go any longer,” Kit gasped. “Trying to hold on. Can’t.”

“Do it,” Raine moaned. “Do it. I’m there too. Do it!”

Kit slammed into him hard, more times than he expected, until Raine was coming, feeling the warmth spreading up his belly and chest. Until Kit shuddered and released, clinging to Raine’s shoulders, leaning over so his hair stuck to Raine’s back.

“Fuck,” Kit moaned as he collapsed at Raine’s side. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“How far did you get?” Raine asked, pulling him closer.

“How far?”

“Counting.”

“Sixty-nine.” Kit smirked. Raine rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a liar.”

“Well, I kept losing count.” He stroked the tips of his fingers through Raine’s short hair. “I wish you’d grow this. I bet it’s a beautiful auburn.”

“It’s brown. Nothing special.” But he couldn’t help smiling. Kit sighed and rested against him, eyes closed.

Sleep, Raine thought. He deserved it after all that exertion. It had been good, but Raine shouldn’t make a big deal of it, he told himself. Just because he didn’t ask for penetration unless he was with someone he trusted. Just because he asked Kit for it, that didn’t mean…
Oh, what the hell is wrong with me?

“You okay?” Kit asked, looking over at him. “You’re all thundery of brow.”

“Sorry. I’m okay. I was…ah… thinking about a meeting we had with the ore-plant managers yesterday.” Better than explaining the real reason.
I love you and it’s scaring the hell out of me.

“When I was fucking you, you were thinking about a meeting? Were you trying to slow yourself down too?”

“No,” he said, chuckling. “Having you here reminded me about it, because they responded to the complaint the captain made about the incident the other night.”

“Oh yes?” Kit leaned up on one elbow, his head resting on his hand. He slid his other hand under Raine’s shirt and traced delightful little swirls and circles with his fingertips. Raine had one arm trapped under Kit, around his waist, palm flat and fingers spread to touch as much of the cool skin as he could.

“They weren’t exactly helpful,” Raine said. Kit didn’t look surprised. He must have heard Raine complain about those people often enough to predict their degree of likely helpfulness in any situation. “They said they haven’t been able to identify the men—even though we gave them clear pictures from our security feeds—and I don’t have access to their full personnel database. They talked like they didn’t give a damn. The captain said we’ll be putting in an official complaint to their head office, but they didn’t care.”

“Dicks.”

“It just ticks me off when they show such disrespect to the captain.”

The anger in his voice made Kit look at him, surprised. “You’re um, a loyal guy.”

“She’s my captain.”

“Yeah. She’s your commanding officer, right?”

“Yes.”

“Thing is, she isn’t theirs. Those ore-plant guys, I mean. To them she’s only a contractor.”

“What?”

Kit shook his head. “Sheesh, Raine. You think you’re still in the military, don’t you? You think Dryden’s got power of life and death over everyone on the ship.”

“She has.”

“Her crew, yes. But not the ore plant. To them you’re a haulage company, getting them and their ore where they need to go.”

“I’m not stupid, Kit. I know this is a merchant ship, not a military one.”

“Are you sure you know? Deep down, I mean?”

Raine sighed and rubbed his eyes, ready for more sleep after their exertions. “Maybe you’re right. I do need to think differently.”

“It would make life easier for you. Think corporate. What’s the company for?”

“Hauling cargo.”

“Making money, dummy. Hauling cargo is the way they do it, but the company exists to make money. You should keep this in mind.”

“I’m getting a headache.”

“Good thing I’m due back at work, then.” He slithered across Raine, which felt nice enough to start Raine’s motor running again. He watched Kit grab a towel and head for the shower.

“Think you’ll have time to come back this afternoon?”

“Good lord, are you the same Raine I met all those weeks ago? Mr. One-Fuck-a-Year-Will-Do-Me?”

“You’ve unleashed a monster.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He vanished into the shower. Raine dozed, listening to him singing in there. But he revived long enough to watch lazily when Kit emerged to dry off and dress again, putting on a show worth staying awake for.

“See you later, my monster,” Kit said, pulling a sheet up over Raine and bending down to kiss him before he left.

“Later.” Raine spoke only as the door closed. “My love.”

Chapter Twelve

It didn’t mean anything, Raine argued with himself for the umpteenth time. Three days had passed since the crazy idea of being in love with Kit had first crossed his mind, and he was still trying to convince himself it didn’t mean anything even if he was. He’d been in love before. He would be again. Love didn’t have to mean eternal love. It could be—usually was—a passing thing based mostly on physical attraction.

“Hello, Chief. So we’ve finally lured you into this den of sin.”

Raine glanced around the captain’s ready room. As dens of sin went, it appeared innocuous. The only evidence of sin he could see were the decks of cards and box of poker chips waiting on the table for the officers’ poker game.

“I thought I’d try my luck, ma’am.”

Kit’s fault. He’d apparently decided Raine needed coaching in how to be corporate. When Raine had mentioned he didn’t attend the card game on principle, since gambling was against regulations, Kit had scoffed and told him it wasn’t about gambling but something he called networking. In the army, it had definitely been about gambling.

For the sake of a quiet life, Raine had agreed to give it a go. He’d even started to look forward to it once he’d agreed. Despite what he’d said to people in the past, he was not a bad player, and he prided himself on having a good poker face.

“Everyone got drinks?” Dryden said, picking up her glass of scotch and soda. “Let’s start, then.” There were eight of them, including the captain, who usually hosted the games. “Sit where you like,” she said with a wave of the hand.

Raine didn’t pay too much attention to where he sat—a mistake, as it turned out. He looked to his left to find Jon Parker beside him, wearing a most unfriendly look. Parker didn’t speak to Raine as they settled in, sorting out the chips. Raine didn’t mind; he had Jalota, the navigation officer, at his right side, and she was friendly enough.

But as the game began and the chatting ended, Raine felt the unmistakable hostility coming from Parker. He couldn’t be sulking, could he? Okay, he’d wanted Kit, might even have had him once—Raine felt a stab of jealousy when he thought of that—but Kit had chosen Raine. No need for a grown man to get so bent out of shape about it; they weren’t teenagers.

It didn’t help his concentration, and he needed to concentrate. He hadn’t played in some time and knew the more serious players in the group would be watching him closely. They’d want to assess if he was a serious player too or only here for the networking.

Parker played badly, perhaps too busy giving Raine the evil eye to concentrate on his game, and his stack of chips went down fast. Raine’s fell too initially, but, as Parker folded more and more often, Raine got a second wind and began to regain his momentum. The old tactics came back to him. By the time they finished up for the night, he’d nearly doubled his money.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Chief,” Dryden said. “You told me you’re not much of a player, but I see you’re going home richer tonight.”

“Yes, the chief is good at holding out,” Parker muttered, attracting a few curious glances. He stood and moved away from the table. The others followed, but Parker didn’t head for the drinks like the rest; instead he strode out of the room. Raine followed him. If attending these games would do him good on the ship, then he didn’t need to have any complications thrown in to mess it up. He caught up a few meters away, taking Parker’s arm to stop him.

“Parker, can we talk?”

“Take your hand off me.” Parker pulled his arm away. “I’ve nothing to say to you.”

“Look, I appreciate you have a problem with me and Kit being together.”

“What, you think this is jealousy? I don’t give a flying fuck about you and Miller. And I have no problem with him. I have a problem with you being a hypocritical bastard.”

Raine saw it then. He’d warned Parker off because he’d been jealous. The man had even thanked him, like Raine had prevented him making a big mistake. He must think Raine had it planned all along—warn off anyone he saw as a rival, to clear the field for himself.

“I’m sorry. I know I told you—”

“You told me an officer of this ship shouldn’t get involved with a stowaway, and now you are involved with him. That’s hypocrisy.”

“I didn’t plan it this way.”

“I used to think you were an honest man. Straight dealing. I won’t make the mistake of trusting you again.” He turned to go but stopped and looked back. “And let me put you on notice. I do still want him, and I see no reason to back off and let you have the field to yourself.”

Raine clenched his fists and came close to knocking Parker the length of the corridor but kept hold of enough control not to give in to the urge. He’d end up in the brig, lose his job and his pension, and might never see Kit again. Parker turned to walk away.

“Did you have him before?” The question was ripped from an uncontrolled and primitive part of Raine’s mind.

Parker turned back, smiling, losing the anger when he saw he had something he could hold over Raine. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Perhaps you should ask him. Good night.” He delivered the last words in the same tone a man might say “fuck you.”

Raine watched him stride off and wondered what to do now. He could go back to the ready room and have a couple of drinks and
network
with the captain and other officers. Or he could grow wings and fly. About as likely. He checked the time. Barely 2200. Kit might still be working. He’d come to Raine’s cabin when he finished. It had become their usual routine.

Screw routine. He wanted to see Kit
now.

* * *

Raine found Kit sweeping the kitchen floor when he arrived—usually the final job of the cleanup evolution.

“Hey, handsome, come to walk me home? How was the game?” Kit grinned. “Were you corporate? Did you score a load of points?”

“Had a few scored against me.”

Kit looked curious, but Raine didn’t explain. He had to put the picture of Kit with Jon Parker out of his mind. He could think of only one way to blank his mind out enough to eliminate the image.

Kit gasped when Raine grabbed him around the waist and pushed him back against the nearest bulkhead. Raine swallowed the gasp, mouth on Kit’s, tongue in deep, demanding more of him. He ran his hands over Kit’s slim waist, on down to his hips.
Too damn bony, should get you in the gym, my boy. Get him in and have him over a weights bench…

Kit pulled back, laughing, joyful, surprised.

“Let me guess—the captain put the whole ship into the pot, and you won it?”

“Stop talking.” Raine covered Kit’s too busy mouth again.
Talks too much. Better things to do with his beautiful mouth
. But he broke the kiss first this time, because he wanted to taste Kit’s skin. He kissed an ear, down his neck, feeling the hot racing pulse under his lips, smelling the lingering scents of cleaning fluids and cooking trapped in Kit’s hair and clothes.

“Oh God, you’re driving me crazy, Raine.”

“Say my name. Say Dan.”

“Dan. Dan!” He laughed, joy in it again. “My man Dan. Oh! Fuck!” Raine had reached down inside Kit’s baggy pants and taken hold of his growing cock. “Raine, Raine, slow down.”

“I want you.”

“Trish is still here.”

“Screw Trish.”

“She’s not my type. Let’s go to your cabin.”

They should. Raine knew he was letting his lust control him, letting it mix with the wasted adrenaline from the confrontation with Parker, anger and jealousy adding a garnish. But he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t. He needed Kit here. Now. He wanted Kit’s cock in his mouth, wanted to make him come hard, harder than Parker had—might have. Raine could never ask Kit if he and Parker had… Too humiliating to ask. Kit would either tell him or would tell him to mind his own damn business, and Raine would make the worst of either answer. Better not to know. Better to prove himself the better lover, better man.

“Okay,” Kit said as if hearing an answer from Raine, though he hadn’t spoken. His begging lips and demanding hands said everything Raine couldn’t say in words. “This way.”

He led Raine into a cooler. A cooler, of all things.

“What is this, revenge for my hot cabin?”

“Something like that. Shut the door and keep quiet, for fuck’s sake.”

“I’ll keep quiet,” Raine said, backing him up in the dim interior, only an emergency light above them. “My mouth will be full.” They went around behind shelves, invisible from the door. “You, on the other hand, might need something to bite down on.”

“Dan…” Kit’s back hit the wall, and he grabbed at it to steady himself while Raine dropped instantly to his knees. The frigid floor bit through the fabric of his pants. The chilly air was already affecting him; his nipples were painfully erect with the combination of desire and cold. But the cold wasn’t giving Kit any trouble. He fumbled off his apron, and Raine pulled down the baggy, elastic-waisted pants, revealing his cock, turned livid red by the emergency light.

Like blood. As if the hot blood within showed on the outside. The blood roused by Raine’s kisses and touch. And by his lips as he dipped his head and engulfed it, the flesh so hot he felt it warmed him through, counteracting the cold.

Kit moaned and grabbed Raine’s head on both sides, something he didn’t normally do, usually too much in control. Did he feel as out of control as Raine? Out of control and yet loving it. Loving the rush of it as he took Kit in deeper, deeper than he normally dared, feeling a new confidence. Was beyond the boundaries of control where confidence and courage came from? Was staying in control just another way of being afraid?