Play Along

He frowns.

“And I remembered that I didn’t tell you and I was freaking out.” I pick up his hand and hold it in mine. “I had to warn you and coming back onto the ship was my only choice. I didn’t have your number to call,” I whisper.

“I don’t need your protection. I can handle myself.” He sighs and I can see a glimmer of forgiveness.

“I know you can.” I pause and try to sweeten the deal. “I wanted an excuse to see you.” My eyes search his.

He stares at me as the last words I said roll around in his brain.

“You wanted an excuse to see me?” He narrows his eyes. “I thought I was just the guy who kidnapped you?”

I smile softly as I gently cup his face in my hand. “Maybe not. Maybe you’re more.”

He moves close and I know I may be forgiven. “How much more?” he whispers against my lips.

I smile up at him. “Stop asking stupid questions and thank me.”

He roughly grabs my behind and kisses me, and I laugh into his lips.

“Stop doing stupid things.” He growls.

“I can’t, it comes naturally,” I reply.

He throws me onto the bed and I bounce with a laugh.

“So, you are here by choice now?” he asks darkly as he slowly undoes his belt from his pants.

Desire runs through my blood and I nod. “Aha.”

“Here for me.” He pauses and raises his brow. “By choice?”

“Yes,” I breathe as I watch his pants slowly slide down his legs.

“So, I can legally do whatever I want to do to you now.” He purrs sexily.

Shivers run down my spine. “Yes,” I whisper in anticipation. “What do you want?”

His dark eyes hold mine. “Fucking everything.”

* * *

The pager wakes us from our sleep. I glance at the clock to see it’s 4am in the morning. Stace rolls over and looks at the clock. I know he’s thinking the same thing as me.

He gets up and reads the message on his pager.

I sit up. “What does it say?”

He doesn’t answer and goes to the bathroom, flicking the light on. “What does it say?” I call after him.

“There is a problem in the engine room,” he replies dryly.

Oh no, I jump out of bed. “It’s a trap. This is it. I’m telling you, it’s a trap. This… this is what I heard them talking about,” I stammer.

“It could also be a problem in the engine room,” he replies.

“Don’t go. You can’t go.”

He zips up his pants and pulls his shirt around his shoulders. “I can handle myself.”