Chapter 3 #3
Gweneth burst onto the bridge at a skip, her long black hair confined in a bouncy ponytail instead of one of her complicated twists that she piled on top of her head. It made her appear younger and mischievous.
Ellard swallowed, his stomach muscles quivering as his gaze shot to her pouty lips.
A float table sailed toward him and the control panel.
Gweneth plonked down in the seat beside him, glanced out the viewscreen and at the instruments before shifting her attention to him. “Do you want to have a snack before you go and rest? It’s nice to share a meal.”
He found himself nodding when he hadn’t intended at all. “You’re a witch,” he grumbled.
She blinked. “No, I’m a feline. A failure of a feline, but a cat nevertheless.”
“Before you and the rest of the Indy crew arrived on Viros, before and during the war with the House of Cawdor, many of our shifters lost their ability to shift. And without regular shifting our cats suffer. Some die.”
Her white teeth caught that pouty lip and worried it.
Ellard stared at her until the stirring of his feline warned of his idiocy.
He shouldn’t stare at her or encourage her because, despite what Jarlath and Keira thought, he was older and damaged.
A young, beautiful shifter like Gweneth could have anyone she wanted, and he feared another joke at his expense.
Phrull.
He puffed out a hard breath, every muscle in his body tensing at the memory of how Marjo and Mareeka played him. Because of his mistakes, Jarlath had faced great danger, and he’d lost an arm.
“Ellard. Ellard.” Gweneth reached out to touch his artificial arm. He couldn’t truly feel her touch, but the sensors built into the limb transmitted to his brain and told him he should. His cock started to fill.
“What?” he snapped.
“You were telling me about the shifters who couldn’t transform. What happened?”
“The House of Cawdor managed to place an additive in the food supply, and that worked to stifle shifting. Some were lucky and never succumbed. My feline remained, but Jarlath’s didn’t. Until he met Keira, his feline was dying.”
“He’s all right now because I’ve seen him shift.”
“Most recovered, but a few…” Ellard trailed off, the horror of a part of him dying even worse than losing his arm.
Something to remember. Some of the Virosian citizens had it worse than him.
Gweneth, for example, had never shifted, yet she embraced life and new experiences.
He could learn something from a friendship with her.
The thought, the decision, made a weight lift off his shoulders. “Thanks for the food.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It’s not much. I didn’t bother stocking much since the voyage to Narenda shouldn’t have taken this long.
You should take a break once you’ve eaten.
We need to be in top form once we arrive at Narenda.
Lynx and Shiloh are counting on us to woo the people into taking part in our festival. ”
“No one knows much about the species who live on Narenda.”
“I know. I attempted to do some research since Lynx and Shiloh told me they’d visited once.
The ship’s data banks tell of the atmosphere and the planet’s composition.
It’s tropical—much warmer than Viros, so I’m glad I brought my shorts and T-shirts with me—clothes to relax in—as well as suitable gear for meetings. ”
“Shorts are an Earth garment?”
“Yes. Very comfortable. Anyway, that’s the extent of my research. Nothing else showed up, apart from the fact the people weren’t friendly.” Gweneth glanced at her timepiece. “Ah.”
The wealth of satisfaction in the sound raised a warning signal in Ellard. His feline went on alert, senses stretching outward.
“I believe you owe me another kiss.” She beamed at him. “We’ll take care of that before you go and rest.”
Take each cycle as it came.
Right then.
Ellard calmly ate his meal—a tasteless dehydrated meal of malpack strips and perknoods, a type of soft dough cut into long pieces. The gravy should make the meal taste better. Instead, it clogged up his mouth.
Gweneth pushed hers away. “As I said, not much to eat.”
Ellard set the remains of his meal back on the hover tray, and Gweneth sent the tray back to the galley. He scanned the instruments one final time to satisfy himself they appeared to be heading in the correct direction before standing.
“I’ll take care of that kiss now.” The words and the idea came easier now that he’d considered and discussed the matter.
Friends. Someone to stand with during court functions and to laugh with instead of appearing a ninny.
Jarlath and Keira were right. There was no downside to Gweneth’s proposition.
“Ah, all right.” Instead of appearing pleased, Gweneth’s dark brows drew together. She stood, her uncertainty clear.
She’d thought he’d keep objecting and his acquiescence confused her.
“Come here,” he said, confident now that he had the upper hand. The thing was—if he aimed for honesty—and he tried not to lie to himself, he’d enjoyed kissing her.
Gweneth advanced, closing the distance between them. When they were almost touching, she lifted her head and met his gaze. An instant later, her chin lifted, and he smiled at the sight.
She reached up and skimmed his jaw with her fingertips.
His feline twisted beneath his skin, the leashed power of the beast almost breaking past his control, all because of her innocent touch.
“Is that your feline?”
He nodded since a lump had lodged in his throat, preventing him from speaking.
She ran her palm over his cheek, and heat roared through his body. Not his cat this time, but the man’s body reacting to the proximity of a beautiful woman. One who wanted a kiss.
“Come here,” he said gruffly, reaching for her and pulling her against his chest.
They both sighed then grinned.
Friends who enjoyed kissing each other. It couldn’t be that bad, he thought as he claimed her lips.
He’d wanted to keep the kiss quiet and friendly, but the elvetine flower-soft touch of her lips responding to his roared through him in a flash flood of emotions.
He wrapped both arms around her slender form and deepened the contact, sliding his tongue into the warm softness and falling into a world of feminine mysteries. Heat and pleasure.
He’d meant to kiss her and go on his way, but the sec his brain thought about ceasing the contact, his arms locked in position. In urgent need of a breath, he parted their lips and nuzzled the fragrant flesh of her neck.
“Ellard,” she whispered.
He licked across the rapid-beating pulse below her ear, and wonder filled him. This storm of lust and longing affected her too, since she appeared just as lost.
He sighed again and pressed his forehead to hers. “I should probably go and get some rest. You’re right about us both needing to stay alert once we land on Narenda.”
“One more kiss?” The hopeful gleam in her beautiful green eyes unmanned him. No one ever looked at him this way. Not a woman.
Their lips met again before the thought registered in his mind.
The last bit of his sanity told him to place distance between them since his cock was reacting in a predictable manner.
He’d hate to frighten her, not that she seemed the nervy type, but he distrusted his instincts when it came to females.
He forced his lower limbs to obey the order to move and made room between them.
She groaned and reclaimed the space. Firm breasts pushed into his chest, and she didn’t seem to mind his shaft digging into her belly. The thought shot pleasure through him and drew his balls so tight he thought he might burst.
“Enough.” He pulled away with a tortured groan and took an additional two steps back to negate temptation.
She nodded. “Thank you for the spectacular kiss.”
“Two kisses,” he corrected, his voice croaky and strained.
“You still owe me one tomorrow,” she said. “It’s not my fault you decided to steal an extra one.”
He stared at her, nonplussed by her casual manner. Just as he thought he understood her, she said or did something that jolted him out of rhythm.
“Call me if you have a problem.”
She sat in her seat and fastened the safety harness. “I might call Lynx and Shiloh and tell them we’ve made contact and should arrive on the morrow as we predicted.”
Ellard glanced down at his erection and back at Gweneth, calmly pushing buttons on the controls. The last thing he wanted was for Lynx or Shiloh to see the results of Gweneth’s kiss. “See you later.”
She lifted one hand. “Sure thing.”
Ellard sighed and left the bridge. Women. He’d never understand them.