A Viking's Peace: Futuristic Science Fiction Romance (Vikings in Space Book 1) (4 page)

She had no counter to that. But he seemed alone in his position and that made her want to stand by his side.
That doesn’t sound loyal to the FedNat, Lt. Tavistock
. But her gut churned with disquiet at the thought of being a part of something that bothered this man.
 

“This doesn’t matter to us, you know. We don’t want to promote Midgard as a sex vacation or something like that. Your planet is beautiful.” She may not have seen much of it yet, but she knew outside the city limits lay farms and smaller settlements. Carefully regulated industry allowed within the city and elsewhere on the planet augmented the food produced on the Artisan Flats, but the population overwhelmingly supported their protection.
 

“It is. And I will show you all of it.” Rough pride filled his voice. “But tonight…I’ll swallow my distaste. You might as well understand all of who we are.”

“We don’t need to—”

“No,” he said quietly, his thumb stroking her cheek as he gently turned her face back to the women spinning slowly in a circle in front of his father. “I think I might like to watch you watch.”

Heat infused her core as he settled her back against his front. Hard leather, cold metal, and right in the middle of her back, the unmistakable thickening of a very impressive erection. She pressed her legs together. From kissing to not kissing to voyeurism in no time flat. She could handle this.

She had to—prying herself away from his warm embrace certainly wasn’t going to happen.

— —
 

So much for backing off.

But he didn’t care. As the dancers twirled, removing first the scarves wound around their upper bodies, then their gauzy skirts, Ashleigh’s breathing increased and her skin warmed. He stroked her cheek, not daring to press his hand to her belly again, although the need to claim her was overwhelming.

He knew what was coming next. The first dancer picked up a glass bottle of
tarfutti
oil and spun the next woman into her arms. Breasts to back, hip to hip, she drizzled her partner’s torso with a thin stream of oil and held her as a third woman joined them. Hands flashed, shiny in the dim lighting, cupping breasts and curving around bottoms. Another woman joined the writhing show, and then from the shadows came the men.
 

In his arms, Ashleigh tightened up. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “No one can see us.” He slid his fingertips to her neck, and her moan was so quiet he could only feel it vibrating in her throat. “Let yourself enjoy it.”

“You don’t…”

“I enjoy you. Watching you get turned on makes me crazy.”

“I’m not—”

“I can smell you,” he interjected quietly as he traced her collarbone at the top of her uniform. He ignored her little gasp. “Your scent is captivating. I’m jealous that I’m not the cause of it.”

“You are,” she whispered, and that undid him. He ground his cock into her back, frustrated that he couldn’t drag her back to the inn and slide them both into the tub. He’d make her come with his hands and his mouth first, then fold her over edge and slide into her from behind. “No, Reinn, we can’t…”

“I know,” he muttered into her hair. “But I want to.”

“I do, too,” she gasped, and he slid his hand up to cup her face, turning her around so he could take her mouth. He kept it brief, a painfully short taste of her lips that only made the ache in his chest pulse harder.

“Go back to the table,” he said, gripping her hips firmly and moving them apart. “Join the others. I’ll be there soon.”

“We need to talk about this,” she whispered. But there would be no talking while her lips were swollen and wet from his kiss.

He shook his head. “Tomorrow or the next day. Tonight has gotten away from us.”

She stared at his mouth and nodded, a jerky acknowledgement that they both needed some space to think clearly. But the masquerade of not wanting each other wouldn’t last, they’d just proven that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Reinn would give Ashleigh and her team a few days to get settled, and there were meetings planned, but then they were heading north. He wanted to show her the real Midgard, not the carefully constructed facade his father was intent on presenting.
And when exactly did she become Ashleigh?
One day with her and he’d lost all sense of decorum and boundaries.
Maybe when your tongue was down her throat, your cock wedged hard against her.
He shook his head. It wasn’t just about getting her alone. He wanted to show Cell 3 and Lieutenant Tavistock another side of modern Viking life.

Tonight they’d get the flash. Soon enough they’d see the reality. And something told him that his Earth counterpart would understand the quiet wonder of the Flats. And if he got to spend some one-on-one time exploring
her
wonders…that would be a nice bonus.

Not here in the city. Not in front of court. Reinn bristled at the thought of sharing Ashleigh with anyone. No. Not here.

But up north, under the stars…if she’d have him, Reinn would show her all the Viking hospitality he could muster.

4

Nine days had passed since the welcome reception. Nine nights of soaking in her oversized bathtub, touching herself to the memory of Reinn’s hands on her neck, his mouth on her ear, telling her how much she turned him on.

Through meetings and polite group tours, he managed not to touch her, but his gaze was always there. Watching and promising that good things would come.

She ought to be annoyed that he’d said they’d talk and then avoided her, but the distance didn’t feel cold. He was protecting her, and the steady hum of anticipation for what would happen when they truly had some privacy was delicious.

At the end of the morning resources discussion, which had gone well, the senior Midgardian diplomat stood and addressed the room. “It’s been proposed that we split into four groups for the travel outside of the capital.
 
This will allow greater immersion in one community, but it will mean that some of you don’t travel to the southern hemisphere until much later in your visit.”

Ashleigh didn’t turn to look at Reinn. She knew this was his idea. He was a trusted advisor, and he’d used his position to get them separated from the rest of the delegation. She wasn’t going to risk that by lighting off the fireworks that would surely happen if she glanced his way. Navena had already pointed out how she acted like a schoolgirl with a crush around him. She could trust her friend, but no one else.

Captain Reynolds handed out the assignments. Cells 1 and 2 would head south. They crowed. Dragons were an awesome assignment. Cell 4 would head east, to the Simple Lifers, and find out how their other cousins liked living on Midgard and what their concerns were. A good assignment for Commander Derek Jacoby, although his team looked less than impressed at the idea of heading away from technology and the joyousness of the Viking settlements.

Ashleigh’s team was heading to the Artisan Flats, not far from Ny København. Less travel time, more private time. And a chance to see Reinn’s favourite part of his world.

“This afternoon, you’ll work with your counterparts to plan itineraries, and transport will be arranged. Those going further afield will leave tonight by air. Cell 3, you’ll travel by rail and leave in the morning.”

As they filed out, heading to the longhouse for lunch, Derek stopped her. “Lt. Tavistock, would you be able to join us for part of the afternoon? You spent a lot of time on Simple Lifer background before we got here.”

She could feel Reinn watching her, as always. “Yes, of course. Sgt. Johnson can handle our planning session.” She glanced over her shoulder, ostensibly to confirm that with Navena, but Reinn was right there. Not quite glowering, but not happy, either. It didn’t take long for him to clarify his position. The comms device on her arm beeped as she tucked into her plate of roast meat and herbed vegetables with a sweet and tangy fruit jelly.
 

Would you rather have gone to the east?

She blinked at the unexpected note from Reinn. They’d only tested their comms connection once, on the third day of talks, when everyone else did. She’d thought about messaging him many times, particularly late at night as she tossed back and forth in the Viking-sized bed that was missing a certain Viking. But she knew that doing so would put another crack in the facade of their collegial relationship.
 

And the lightning zap to her chest that happened at the sight of his name on her arm confirmed that. She lifted her finger and hovered it over the keypad for a minute before answering.
No.

I will miss you this afternoon.

Wow. She stared at her arm, heart pounding, not trusting herself to look up. Her cheeks must be flaming.
Noted.

You’re beautiful when you’re flustered.

Stop bothering me
, she typed as she smiled.

I’ve had to be good for nine long days, Ashleigh.
She could hear her name as if he’d whispered it in her ear.

Hasn’t been easy for me, either
.
Was this the stupidest thing ever? Who might be monitoring this channel?
She was reminded of what Navena had said. Not forbidden. Just discouraged. She ignored the warning bells going off in her head and focused instead on the lovely butterflies taking flight in her stomach.
 

Eat your lunch
.
 

Don’t be bossy.

You’ll need your strength over the next week.

Her fork clattered off her plate as she bumped it in surprise. She pressed the button to darken the screen. From somewhere else in the hall, he was watching her. She didn’t need to respond.

The afternoon sessions flew by. She spent half of it with Derek’s group, then moved over to where Reinn and Navena were planning quite a robust trip north. By the time dinner rolled around, she was wiped. Instead of joining the group at the longhouse, she begged off. Navena shooed her away, promising to send a cold plate over soon enough.

She planned on having a bath, but she lay down on the bed first and the next thing she knew her arm was beeping. Expecting it to be Navena, she slapped the answer button. “What’s up, buttercup?”

A long pause filled the air before Reinn spoke, low and rough. “It doesn’t sound like you are, despite the attempt at a chipper greeting.”

“Oh. I fell asleep.”

“I can hear that. Go to your door. I’ve left you a present.” He chuckled. “And by the way, you didn’t eat your dinner. Bad girl.”

She sat up like a bolt, nipples at attention. “Where are you?”

“Sadly, no longer outside your door.”

“Come back.” Everyone else would have left. It would be fine.

He groaned. “I can’t, I have a meeting with my father. Besides, if I came to your room…We wouldn’t be quiet.”
 

Her nipples agreed. “Soon?”

“Tomorrow,
min elskede
.”

With a beep he was gone, and she was left with a swirl of unexpected emotion. Desire she’d reconciled herself to, even though it was completely out of character. She wanted Reinn and had come to terms with that.

But this
longing
, this ache inside her to have him close at all times…it was so unexpected, so raw, and so completely unworkable that she didn’t know what to do.
 

And now he’d come and gone while she slept, and left something for her.

She swallowed hard and slowly climbed off the bed. She opened the heavy wooden door, still amused at the archaic hinges and doorknob. So impractical to have the door take up space swinging into the chamber. The obvious risk of injury aside, surely the wood and metal was more expensive than a pre-fab slider.
 

Next to a tray of food was a wooden box. She carefully balanced the box on the tray and carried both inside the room and set them on the bed. The dinner was pickles, cold meat and a tangy salad of sorts. She nibbled on a few bites while she stared at the box, torn in equal measure between excitement and fear at what she might find inside. What it might mean.

Lifting the lid, she caught her breath at the sight of a dark amber glass bottle. She pulled out the cork stopper and hesitantly brought her nose close enough to catch a hint of the delicate scented oil inside. Even though she had a good idea what it was, she sent Reinn a quick message.

What is it?

The same oil the dancers used at the welcome reception.
His response was swift and without any hint of shame. Images flooded her mind. A woman twirling in the center of the longhouse, losing an item of clothing with each rotation until her breasts were bare. As had happened that night, desired pulsed through Ashleigh’s core before she could suppress her reaction. She uncoupled the comms device from her uniform and docked it to her tablet, then silently shed her tunic. She was alone. It didn’t matter that her nipples were sharp enough to cut glass and her sex was wet and swollen. No one would know that she wanted to—

I want you to drizzle it on yourself like they did.

Oh, hell. She let out a moan, then yelped at the sudden noise in her otherwise quiet chamber. So it wasn’t entirely her own little secret what she’d do with it.

I take your silence as an indication that your hands are busy.

She corked the bottle, then tossed it gently into the middle of the bed. She shimmied out of her uniform pants and followed the bottle, tablet in hand.
Not at all, I was just scanning your gift for toxins.

The cursor flashed on the screen, and Ashleigh imagined Reinn laughing before responding.
Find any threats?

The results were inconclusive.
She stared at the bottle, then down at her standard issue undergarments. The stretchy tank top and shorts felt heavy for the first time ever. She wore them 24/7, except for bathing, and for the first time ever, she wanted them gone. Had a burning desire to roll around naked on her bed, touching herself.

Tomorrow night, I will show you how I use it to stroke myself.
Hunger struck her fast and swift, and not for the food she’d been picking at. She wanted to see him do that, touch himself. Her sex swelled, warm and wet, as she tried to visualize what he’d look like naked. Dark hair, thicker from his waist down. A large penis, to match the rest of him, big and bold and strong. Would it jut straight out? Curve up or down or to the side? And when he wrapped his giant fist around it, what would he do? Would he watch himself, or her? Tip his head back and close his eyes, imagining a fantasy?