Operation Starseed

Part 3-2

She’s right, the soup’s the safest bet, and

I carry two trays of it up to the cockpit, one on top of the other,

walking carefully to avoid spilling any. On the captain’s bridge, I

hit the door switch with my elbow and stand back as the door cycles

out of my way. I step onto the deck and as the door closes behind

me, I announce, “Soup’s on.”

There are two seats in the cockpit, the

pilot’s chair that Dylan is stretched out in and the copilot’s

seat, which is empty. Turning, Dylan smiles when he sees me, stands

and takes the top tray from me as he plants a quick kiss on my

lips. “I thought you’d never get here,” he murmurs, kissing me

again, lingering this time, his lips soft and his tongue insistent

where it presses into my mouth. “I was afraid you were holding out

on me.”

I laugh and step back so he doesn’t knock

into the soup, my elbow hitting the door behind me. “Dylan,” I say,

“dinner’s gonna get cold—”

“Let it,” he tells me. Setting his

tray down on the floor, he takes the other one as well, places it

beside his own, then leans me back against the wall, a hand on

either side of my head and his hips grinding into mine. “I need

you,” he sighs, kissing my neck. I let my eyes slip closed and fist

my hands into his jumpsuit.

“Right now?” I ask, hoping it sounds

coy and teasing and not the least bit like my blood’s on fire for

this boy in my arms, pinning me up to the door, but he thrusts into

me and I know he feels that hard thickness at my groin, aching at

the confines of my jumpsuit—I know he feels it against his own

erection because that rubs along my thigh, as eager as his

lips that cover mine.

“Now,” he breathes, and the hum of my

zipper when he pulls it down is lost in my low moan. His knee

presses between my legs and into my crotch, and then his hands are

slipping into my open zipper, smoothing along my naked chest,

cupping my erection through my thin boxers and then easing around

my hips, beneath the fabric, until he has one arm wrapped around my

waist, one hand cradling my bare ass, kneading hungrily. He buries

his face in my throat and I hug him close, my arms around his neck,

my lips in his hair and I moan his name again, he’s kissing me and

rubbing me and he’s right, what’s wrong with right here, right now?

Somehow I get a hand between us and trail it down his chest, trace

the zipper down to the bulge at his groin, take the hardness in my

palm and squeeze it, making him gasp and thrust into me again. “Oh

Jesus, now,” he sighs.

I like him like this, so needy, so

mine. “I like it when you call me Jesus,” I murmur, but he

kisses me quiet because he’s done playing, he wants me and he’s

going to have me and he’s getting no argument from me there.

I have him unzipped and in my hand, already

damp where he’s starting to come, and he’s working my boxers down,

trying to get into them without either of us taking the time to get

fully undressed, when the vidscreen flares to life behind him and

Vallery’s face appears. I can see her over Dylan’s shoulder. “Hate

to interrupt—” she starts.

“Vallery!” Dylan cries. He tugs my

jumpsuit closed, covering my chest but parts of me peek out below

as I scramble to tuck him back into his suit. I don’t know what all

she sees but her eyes widen and suddenly the screen goes blank,

she’s turned off the cam. Still, I turn towards the door, his body

blocking mine as I snap my boxers back together and fumble with the

zipper to close my suit. “f**k, you knew we were getting it

on here—”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, her voice

filling the room. “I didn’t mean to… I mean, I thought you’d—I

didn’t see anything much, I swear.”

“You saw enough,” I mutter. Dylan runs

a shaky hand through his hair and we’re going to have to talk about

this, this is the second time she’s done this to us, and now I’m

going to be hard until I get with him tonight. We won’t be able to

get the moment back now, not with me thinking she might bust in on

us all over again. This time I zip my jumpsuit all the way to my

chin, and when I turn around Dylan has his only halfway closed, the

collar crooked. I can still see his bare chest, smooth and muscled,

and I straighten his collar, pull the zipper up all the way,

whisper to him, “This is getting old.”

“Val, we’re busy here,” he says, his

arms slipping around my waist again until I’m caught once more in

his embrace, but now my hands are between us, keeping us apart, and

when he leans down to kiss me, I turn away. With a lusty sigh, he

rests his forehead on mine and raises his voice as he calls out,

“Well? What do you want? Make it quick so we don’t have

to.”

“Oh, hey, I forgot,” she says, her

tone of voice making me grin at the frustration that flitters

across Dylan’s face. “This is just a pleasure cruise, right? We’re

only here so you two can kiss and make up—”

“Stop it,” Dylan growls. Pressing his

lips to my cheek, he whispers, “They don’t understand how much I

need you, baby.” I do—I can feel his need curled against my hip,

but Vallery’s right, this can wait. I try to push away but

Dylan’s stronger than me and he holds me close. “Where do you think

you’re going?” His breath is hot and exciting along my skin.

“Val—”

“Hello, you guys?” she calls, as if

we’re not listening. “You think I’m doing this just to harass you?”

Dylan opens his mouth like that’s exactly what he’s thinking, but I

cover his lips with mine to silence him. “There’s an incoming

signal on the comm-link. Or are you two not interested in that

anymore?”

I don’t know about Dylan, but I’m

interested. “Be right there,” I tell her, and with another kiss,

another squeeze and a promise to pick this up later where we left

off, Dylan follows me from the cockpit. An incoming signal—I

don’t even let myself think about what it might be.