Fontanas Trouble (6 page)

“My juices taste different when
experienced through your taste buds,” he said. “I so love the taste of you.
Now, though, your taste seems—off. Nevertheless, you’re hard now.”

She stroked herself, sending
fountains of hot pleasure in and out of her shaft. This time her erection
didn’t throb so much. She pulsed it and felt it move in her hand. The need to
burrow deep in his cunt was growing by the second.

“I’m ready. I’m going to make you
feel it this time.”

She got on her knees and pushed
him onto his back. Her erection already pointed at his pussy like it knew where
to go. She grabbed the hem of her toga and drew it upward.

“Me too.” Brent wiggled his toga
up over his hips.

Fontana pulled the toga over her
head. A sense of rapid acceleration slammed into her. Her body shuddered, and
she lay on her back. Brent was now back in his body and knelt over her, his
erection in his hand. She reached down and felt her own pussy, wet and ready,
and very female.

First surprise then
disappointment flowed over his face. “Damn.” His cock went limp, and he
collapsed next to her. “We should have left the togas on.”

Chapter Seven

Ten minutes later, Fontana looked
up when Brent entered the bath wearing another toga. The fabric, tied at one
muscular shoulder, hung to his calves. Steam rose off the still water,
shrouding him with a dreamlike quality as he skirted the languid pool. With
careful precision, Fontana lounged against the throw pillows at the pool’s
edge, then stretched. Satisfaction shot through her when his eyes dropped to
her breasts where they strained against the white fabric of her toga.

He neared, and she plucked a
grape from the bowl of fruit a serving ’bot had delivered, along with more dry
towels and body sanitizer, which he’d placed near the pool’s edge. His eyes
remained on her face as she brought the fruit to her lips and slowly sucked it
into her mouth. When Brent reached the pillows, he lowered himself beside her
and propped up on an elbow. Fontana tracked her gaze down the tanned legs
stretched out alongside hers toward the pool. She released a quiet breath. He
was beautiful.

Brent put a finger under her chin
and tilted her head up. “You look lovely.” He kissed her, soft and sweet. Her
crown of olive leaves slipped a fraction when he drew back.

“I’m glad you think so. Want some
grapes?”

He lounged on his side. “So I’m
going to have a beautiful woman feed me grapes after all.”

She pulled a stem of grapes from
the bowl and held it centimeters from his mouth.

He plucked the bottom grape off
with his teeth. “Um. I could do this all night.”

That’s exactly what she was
counting on.

“How long are you staying on
Sagitariun?” he asked.

Fontana fed him another grape.
“Another week.”

“Not nearly long enough.”

She laughed. “How long is long
enough?”

He rolled onto his pillows and
stuffed his hands behind his head. “A month would be a good start.”

“A month? Isn’t that too much of
a good thing?”

His head shifted in her
direction. A soft light entered his eyes. “With you? No such thing.”

She snorted. “Do they teach those
lines at engineering school?”

“No way. That’s all me.” He
smiled. “Where do you go from here?”

“I don’t know.” And she didn’t.

What would happen if she didn’t
return to the Corps? Jenny wasn’t the first friend she’d lost. No one with
fifteen years under their belt escaped the pain of losing someone. But Jenny’s
death was by far the most unfair death Fontana had known in the field, and the
only person whose death Fontana had contributed to.

But Jenny hadn’t been a field
agent. She was a scientist, a Corps member who formed a hypothesis, studied the
data, and then passed the conclusions on to people who then made strategic
decisions. But knowing Jenny was a scientist, not a trained Corps officer,
hadn’t stopped the Corps from placing her in the hornet’s nest.

Fontana released a slow breath.
The hornet’s nest could wait until tomorrow. Or until her contact found out
what was going on with that freighter in Draconian space.

She dipped a toe into the water
and traced a figure eight. “You ready for a swim?”

Brent trailed a finger up her
bare arm. “If that’s where you’re going.”

She flattened a palm on his chest
and slid her hand up and under the shoulder strap of his toga. When she pushed
the strap down his arm, a thrill skittered through her when the muscle tensed
beneath her fingers. When had a man ever excited her so easily? Had she felt
this way with Ray? In the beginning, they hadn’t been able to get enough of
each other, but she didn’t remember it being like this.

Brent rose. He grasped her hand,
and she shrugged aside the memory as he pulled her to her feet. Five years was
a long time, and memories changed, especially when things didn’t turn out the
way they were supposed to. Brent shook the strap from his arm, then pushed the
toga from her shoulders. Fontana let the fabric slip from her body. His gaze
dropped to her breasts, and the nipples puckered. He bent, and his warm lips
closed around the hardened peak. Desire streaked through her.

He grasped her shoulders and held
her against his mouth as he sucked. Fontana gasped at the pleasure that went
taut from clit to breast. Her legs weakened, and she held on to his arms for
support. He flicked his tongue against the nipple,
and
her pussy
clenched in anticipation. When he shifted to the other breast, Fontana allowed
her head to fall back. How long could she take this torture before she had to
have his cock inside her? Ten minutes…two?

She straightened and looked down
at his hips where the toga tented with the erection she couldn’t wait to get
her hands on.

He lifted his head and met her
gaze. “How’s that for starters?”

She grasped the toga and gently
pushed it down across his cock and off his hips. Thick and long, his shaft
bobbed from within a light thatch of hair. Fontana wrapped her fingers around
the girth. She loved the way he felt between her fingers, soft and hard at the
same time. The paradox was delicious.

“I might have to have my way with
you this instant.”

Brent grinned. “I like the way
you think.”

He grasped her waist and braced
himself as he slowly thrust into her fingers. The crown glistened with precum.
He was ready. He captured her mouth with his as his cock withdrew, then thrust
a second time.

A growl rumbled from his chest
before he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. “Much more of
this and I’ll be done before I’ve even started. We came here so I could get to
know you better. Let’s take that dip.”

Reluctantly, Fontana released him
and faced the pool. She took the three steps into the hot water, Brent behind
her. At the bottom of the stairs, he grasped her hips and pressed close so that
his cock nestled in the crook of her ass. Fontana walked until she was breast
deep, and then he stopped her. Tiny laps of water licked at her nipples.

Fontana scanned the pool. By some
trick of perspective, it wasn’t as big at it looked, only about three meters
wide. She started to face Brent, but he held her firmly in place. His hands
left her hips and palmed each butt cheek. Contentment rippled through her at
the feel of his broad hands covering her flesh. His thumbs slid between each
side of his cock and her buttocks. She stilled as he spread her cheeks. His
shaft slid downward until the head reached her opening.

Her breath caught when he spread
her wider, and the mushroom tip rubbed slippery against her hole, then eased
inside a fraction.

Brent eased inside a little more,
then drew back just as slowly. A mental picture flashed of Brent’s engorged
cock slipping inside the tight entrance to her ass, and her stomach did a flip.
He slipped in deeper this time, and she gasped at the pleasant burn.

He paused. “You all right?”

She nodded, unable to speak. He
gave a low laugh and eased deeper. Her heart pounded, and she had the sudden
urge to jam her ass backward and impale him balls-deep. He pulled her flush
against his chest. His chin brushed the top of her head as he reached around
and slid a finger into her curls. She melted against his large frame, aware of
the thick rod that stretched her rectum. His finger massaged her clit. A moan
slipped past her lips.

His finger moved faster, and she
rocked against the digit. His cock slipped all the way inside. She stilled as
her muscles softened around his cock. Brent released a heavy breath, then
parted her pussy lips and inserted a finger into her channel. Her legs
trembled. He was fucking her ass and her pussy! His free hand grasped her hip
and urged her forward into a rocking motion. Fontana thrust against his finger,
then pulled back, ramming his cock deeper.

His sharp intake of breath was
unlike any aphrodisiac she’d ever experienced, and Fontana increased her speed.
The hand on her hip slid around her waist and held her firm. She reached back
and covered his ass with her hands. Muscle bunched with every push of her
buttocks against his groin. Pressure built in her channel. She rode his finger
as he fucked her ass. She kneaded his buttocks. She was on the edge. Any
minute—he ripped his cock from her ass.

“Brent,” she cried.

He turned her toward the pool
edge. “Grab the edge.”

She tried to make sense of the
words. Desire muddled her thoughts.

“The edge,” he rasped, “grab it.”

Fontana grabbed the pool edge.
Brent reached past her and grabbed the bottle of body sanitizer. He nipped the
back of her neck, and she shivered. Water rippled, then he tossed the sanitizer
onto the towel and bent her forward. When he grasped her hips and rammed his
cock into her channel, she gasped. The head crashed into her womb. Pleasure
ripped through her. She braced herself as he pulled back, then rammed harder,
faster. She gave a strangled laugh. And she had thought she would be the one to
fuck him.

Orgasm burst through her. She
threw her head back. His thrusts lifted her feet off the tiled floor. Her
breath caught as his cock dug into her womb. Another orgasm rolled over her,
harder than the first. She screamed, and he came so hard inside her, she felt
his cock pump cum into her. Brent ground his shaft against her, milking the last
vestiges of pleasure from her, then slid his arms around her waist and pulled
her tight against him.

Fontana remained motionless,
thrilled by the feel of his groin spooning her buttocks, and his quiet cock,
still full, inside her. His arms tightened around her, and her insides melted
when he pressed a warm kiss to her shoulder.

“You’re wonderful,” he breathed
into her hair.

An unexpected vision rose of
waking up next to him tomorrow morning, then the next morning…and the next. A
lump rose in her throat. Four days on the fantasy planet, and she’d become
delusional. She could no more form a lasting relationship with Brent than she
could forget that she was there to hide from the cartel and get over Jenny’s
death, all in ten days’ time—and she had to find out what the Corps didn’t seem
to care about: what Gaelen Castor had beamed off Rigil IV. Brent was a
wonderful diversion, but that was all he was, a diversion.

Brent gave her a squeeze and
pulled back. His cock slipped from her channel. He turned her to face him and
braced his arms on each side of her against the pool edge. Fontana traced a
finger down his chin. Surprise flickered in his gaze, and she realized the
foolishness of her action. She drew back her hand, but he grasped it and
pressed a kiss to her palm.

“There’s plenty more where that
came from.” His eyes darkened, and Fontana was surprised at the desire that
fluttered in her belly. What would it take to get enough of him?

He reached for the edge of the
pool, hoisted himself up, and spun himself around to a sitting position on the
ledge, his legs in the water. Naked and glistening in the soft light, he did
look like a Roman god.

Fontana turned and folded her
arms on the pool’s edge. “We’ve got the bath for another hour.”

“Just enough time to get warmed
up again.” Light glinted off his eyes. “I could take you somewhere, and we
could try something a little different.”

Fontana blinked. “Something
different?”

A communicator chortled in the
dressing room, sounding like something from an old James Bond movie—a low tone,
then one high, and two low.

Brent jumped up. “That’s for me.”
He hurried into his dressing room. The sound cut off midtone, and his low
murmur filtered out to her. Fontana hoisted herself out of the water and
grabbed one of the snow-white towels from the table beside the pillows.

A moment later, he walked back
in. “That was my agent.” Brent held up a wristwatch that probably doubled as a
radio. “I have to get those access codes, or the station will fall into the
sun.”

Fontana paused in drying her
arms. “The station will fall into the sun?” Laughter bubbled up. “You’re
supposed to
save
the station from annihilation?”

He grinned. “I can cancel, and we
can spend our last days here in the Roman baths in each other’s arms.”

She could easily envision spending
days in his arms. “This is the fantasy that had you running naked in public?”
she asked.

He nodded. “I slipped Eslanotine
into Janice’s champagne and pretended to seduce her.”

“Janice?” Fontana interrupted.

“The Lauren Bacall look-alike.
She was supposed to fall asleep; then I planned to break into the safe behind
the painting in her bedroom.”

Fontana tried not to smile. Could
this get anymore cliché? “So what happened?”

A sheepish grin lifted his mouth.
“She must have switched the champagne. I passed out. When I woke up, I was
naked, and the authorities were in the next room.”

“What does your agent suggest you
do now? Drugging her drink won’t work any better the second time than it did
the first.” Fontana tossed him the towel.

“There’s been a change of plans,”
he said. “The computer codes to stop the override aren’t in Janice’s bedroom
safe anymore. Actually, it was her husband’s bedroom. He moved the codes. I
have to break into his hideout, neutralize his bodyguards, and steal the codes
before midnight tomorrow.”

“I guess that means no troopers
or sentry robots will be after you until then,” Fontana said.

“No. My agent wiped the records.”
Brent toweled off.

“No running naked in public?” She
lifted a brow. “What will you do with all your spare time?”

“Plan the operation.”

She bit back a laugh at the
serious note in his voice.

“You could help me,” he said.
“With your expertise, we’re sure to save the station.”

She snorted. “I suspect
Sagitariun will still be here tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, amusement
back in his voice, “but the fantasy would be a lot more fun with you. I won’t
tell anyone, and it won’t cost you extra.”