Origin (11 page)

I thought of him that day in his bunkroom, when he’d let me—no, helped me—find pleasure. He’d looked at me on his lap, moved my hips, made sure I got everything I needed and he hadn’t taken pleasure of his own.

Anders was a good man.

“Will you tell me what happened between you and the captain?”

He dropped his spoon in the bowl and looked up at me. “It’s not one of those great stories. It was nothing more than me screwing up.”

“What did you do?”

He let out a long, slow breath, leaned back in the booth and stretched one arm across the back. “I gave up a moment too soon. After years of pursuing the man and finally getting him to pay attention—when men aren’t his usual choice—I got mad, fed up and went elsewhere. Cheating isn’t something Claybourne can deal with.”

“So you were together and you cheated on him?” I frowned. “Why would you do that?”

“Stupidity, an extraordinary amount of Toquarian ale, and a broken heart.”

“You said you’ve been in love with him a long time.”

He lowered his arm, leaned forward and rubbed his forehead. He nodded. “Not sure I can explain it. We’ve been friends longer than I can remember and sometime in there, I began to love him. There’s no one like him. I was a teenager and a young man, chasing every woman I could, and all of a sudden all I could think about was my best friend.”

“Did you tell him?”

He nodded. “Eventually. For a long time, I slept with a lot of people—women and men. Turns out I like both.”

“That’s why he called you a slut. It’s a term for someone who has a lot of sex with different people, right?” Yes, I’d looked it up.

When his eyebrows met, I regretted sharing that. “Guess he has the right to call me that.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think he meant it.”

His mouth twisted. “He did. Clay doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean. And truthfully, I was a slut for a long time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That I was a slut? Before your time, sweetheart, and not worth your worry. I was searching for something in new places, hoping to find what I already felt with someone who didn’t return my feelings.”

“What do you want from him, Anders?”

“What do I want from Claybourne? Good question.” He grinned, leaned forward to put both arms on the table. “Sometimes, I want to throw him down onto all fours, clench my fingers in that silky black hair, and hump him like some kind of animal.”

The flush that hit my cheeks didn’t creep up from my neck; it sprang fully formed and hot. With my skin, there was no hiding it.

He eyed my cheeks, ran his gaze down my neck to my chest. The naughty grin on Anders’s face made me squirm. “You like that. Imagined it, did you?” Those eyes narrowed.

Under the table, I clenched my knees together because that heat had sprung all over, starting a throb between my legs that made me want to do something about it. Shock widened my eyes as I stared at Anders.

“Fuck, Siri.” He groaned, scrubbed his hands over his face before leaning back and closing his eyes. “The way you’re looking at me. You gotta stop, sweetheart. Scurry off.”

Clay stepped around the corner and came to a halt next to the booth. “Anders, what the hell did you say to get those amber eyes so huge?”

Anders smirked, but I saw the pain that lurked behind that confident veneer as he lowered his gaze to look at the hand he wrapped around a tube of Toquerian ale. “Nosy fucker. You’ll have to hear it from Siri.” Anders’s green eyes flicked back up to me, a challenge blazing through that hint of pain that tugged at my heart.

He didn’t think I would say it. Probably didn’t think I could say it. I cupped my hand between my legs as if I could hold back the desire raging through me and turning the crotch of my pants wet. The table hid exactly what I was doing, but they could see my arm move. Both men zeroed in on the movement. Anders held his breath.

Licking my lips, I gave up trying to stop the blush that probably threw all my freckles into stark relief and looked right at the captain. “He said he wants to throw you down on all fours, clench his hands in your hair and hump you like an animal.”

Clay staggered back, his spine hitting the side of the doorway.

Like my flush, his hard-on sprang up fully formed. It stretched the material of those tight pants, pulling it taut around muscled thighs that showed a kind of definition that made my mouth go dry.

The low chuckle that floated across the table from Anders made me shiver. “You got a naughty spark in you, eh?”

My gaze went from Anders to the speechless Clay who was still using the wall to hold himself up. “Someday soon, that part of me is going to be bigger than a spark and you know what I want then, Anders? I want to see what I just said to the captain.”

Anders swallowed, his fingers so tight on the tube I couldn’t believe it didn’t cave in. “And will you touch yourself while watching? Let us watch you?”

The shudder that ripped down my back made me clench my hand tighter.

“She’s touching herself now, Anders,” Clay breathed. “I can see those long, slender fingers digging in from here.” He groaned.

“Is that true, sweetheart? Are you touching yourself right now?”

“It’s not like that,” I whispered because I could barely force air past my lips. Held tight in the grip of something that made me feel like a different person, a braver person, a sexy person, I couldn’t force myself to move my hand. It was like I was afraid my female parts were going to suddenly break free and attack. The thought was so random, so crazy, all that wound-up tension released in a laugh that startled both men.

“Good gods, Siri. You should smile all the time.” Anders grinned. “Smile and finger yourself at my table.”

Finally able to move my hand, I lifted it and reached for my tube of ale. When Clay suddenly rushed forward and grabbed my wrist, I flinched, couldn’t help it. “What?”

He only lifted my hand to his face and buried his nose against my fingers.

“Fuck, Claybourne,” Anders groaned, dropped his arms on the table and laid his head facedown on them. “I’m never getting rid of this hard-on. Never.” His words were muttered in the hollow of his arms.

My heart beat so hard, it hurt. “Clay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, still holding my fingers to his face.

“Have you ever been with a man?”

Anders lifted his head, waited for Clay’s answer.

“No, but I came close. I usually prefer women.”

“You came close. Was it Anders?”

Clay cradled my hand to his cheek, but his blue eyes turned down toward Anders. “We were working together,” Clay finally said, his voice low. “He flirted incessantly, drove me nuts.” He cleared his throat. “I pretended he didn’t affect me, but he did.”

Anders sat up, not once removing his gaze from Clay.

“I finally caved, but it was too late. Went to him, went to finally see if what I felt was real and walked in on him with three women.”

“Three?” I choked.

Clay nodded. “Three. That bed was a tangle of long legs and breasts with a big, grinning Anders in the middle.” The corner of his mouth twitched.

“So, you can smile about it now,” I asked.

“Yeah, but then I couldn’t.” He stopped talking, swallowed so hard, his throat moved. “Anders, I—”

“Captain, there you are!” Lia strolled into the room, Speero on her heels.

He let go of my hand. I wanted to scream at her for her bad timing and grouchy words flowed up into my throat only to stop in a painful lump.

“Hey, Caps,” Speero said as he strolled to the simulator. “Damn, I’m starving.”

Lia snorted. “Better not program any meat pies.”

“Why not? It’s not like I’m going to get lucky on Burga One. We’ll be there in two days.”

“It’s a small ship, Speero.”

His strange orange stripe of hair bobbed as he laughed.

Two days until we reached the planet that supposedly held the man responsible for destroying my home. And it was possible the man who’d tortured me was there as well. My hands shook and I dropped them into my lap. That was a lot sooner than I expected.

Clay still stared at Anders, but he held his hand out to me. “Sullivan, Siri and I have a few things to discuss in my quarters. Lia, spread the word. Don’t bother us unless there’s an emergency.”

Lia’s mouth fell open before she closed it with a snap.

“Sure thing, Captain.” Speero, obviously clueless, carried his tray of food to another booth. “Namito is going to fly for a time. There’s smooth sailing between here and B-One, so he’ll be fine. I’ve gotta get some sleep.”

I barely paid attention to Speero and Lia. I could only stare at Clay’s hand, my stomach in knots.

What did they expect of me?

“It’s okay, Siri,” Clay whispered as he leaned closer so only Anders and I could hear him. “Promise. I think it’s time Anders and I had a talk and I’d like you to be there.”

Chapter Eight

The door closed behind us with an audible click I felt deep in my stomach.

“Lights,” Clay barked out. The built-in lamps along parallel walls came on low. He must have them set to start that way. I could see why as I saw his room for the first time. The soft lighting allowed sight in the room to navigate the large bed taking up most of the space, but it also threw the window above his bed into prominence. His cabin was bigger than the others with that bed bolted into the far wall. I marveled at the idea of lying there and staring into space. A dark blue Dranellian blanket and white sheets were bunched messily at the end of the mattress. His vidscreen had been installed on a wall with built-in drawers and a door to what I assumed was his washroom.

Crossing my arms, I took in everything but the two men standing in front of me, staring at each other. The tense silence crept along the surface of my skin like it held an electric current. My fingers clenched on my arms.

“What is it you’re waiting for, Claybourne? Another apology?” Anders stood so still, his discomfort obvious in the clench of muscles. In his closed fists.

“No, I think you’ve done that enough.” Clay frowned, his own taut body proving his discomfort the same way—clenched thigh muscles visible in his close-fitting black pants, white knuckles as he tightened his hands. “Tell me why Lia said you were celibate.”

Even in the low lighting, I caught the faint red on Anders’s neck.

“You know Lia—full of shit.”

“She seemed pretty sincere to me. What I don’t understand is why when I’ve given you no indication that we would try again. Is this some effort to prove something to me?”

Anders didn’t answer.

It was hard to believe that all this tension—tension that seemed years-long came from Anders cheating on a relationship that hadn’t been consummated. But I didn’t say anything. I felt ridiculous in here. “I’m going back to my room,” I murmured, turning toward the door.

“Please don’t,” Clay asked softly. “I would like to hear more details about what happened between you and Anders in his room. What was I listening to through this wall?”

“You heard all that in here?” Anger tightened Anders’s mouth and he stepped back against a wall.

Clay moved forward—no stalked forward—until he stood less than a foot from Anders’s suddenly heaving chest. Anders stared down at him.

“So, if you’ve been on some silly vow of celibacy, what were all the sexy noises about? Her moans and your grunts of pleasure.”

Shame tasted like rust on my tongue. “Please don’t blame him. I told you that he helped me. It was my fault. I crawled on top of him and took. He took nothing back from me.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Anders said.

I stared at Clay, put my hand on his arm, feeling the hard, tense muscle under my fingers. “Please don’t blame him. He hasn’t cheated on you again.”

Clay frowned. “It’s not cheating when you aren’t together.”

Anders’s uncharacteristic silence was tearing me up. I chewed on my bottom lip, looked at that big bed. “But you should be together. Anyone can see you love each other.”

“Is that true, Sullivan?” Clay asked, reaching out to pull me closer even as he stepped all the way into Anders’s space.

The big guy sucked in a breath, closed his eyes as Clay let go of me and clasped both of Anders’s hands in his. He threaded their fingers together.

“You love me still, Anders? Loved me like you said you did then?” He lifted Anders’s hands, pressed them together over his head on the wall. Clay had to stretch a little, but even standing inches shorter than Anders, he intimidated with the obvious strength and determination in his stance. “Tell me,” he whispered.

“It’s time you forgive me.” Anders’s voice was little more than a growl as he let Clay push him hard into the wall.

“You know how I feel about infidelity, Sullivan. Know that it ripped my home life to shreds, that it ruined my first relationship…and my second. You went out and did the one thing guaranteed to make me run. Why?”

“Think back. Think hard. What was the last thing you said to me?”

Clay’s eyebrows drew together and he was silent a long time.