Chapter 17
“Fuck.”Varik snarled at the comm display. Still no word from the pharmaceutical company on Morgual. After so many cycles, odds were Cyra had delivered his spiders on his ship and taken his money. The tracker he’d planted on The Treasure showed that she had launched from Morgual. Somehow she’d put together enough funds to get fuel and food to make the delivery. And clearly, despite the conversations he’d had with his contact, the company had paid for the spiders.
He smacked his fist on the desk. Unable to sit still he paced the tiny quarters on the Harlan Johnson. Captain Twalley was still dawdling about leaving and somehow Cyra kept moving. How the fuck was she doing it? Varik would have been hard pressed to get the fuel, food, and pay the crew, and he had Auvi’s funds. Well his funds. Because Auvi promised to leave everything to him. Including the damn Treasure. But Auvi had lied. One false step and Varik had been cast aside without a backwards glance. That wasn’t love.
Auvi had moved on as if everything they’d shared was meaningless. He’d given Cyra Varik’s rightful place. And she took to it like a fish to water. Finding a crew. Delivering the deadly spiders. Getting off Morgual.
If she wasn’t using his rightful property to do everything, he’d almost admire her tenacity.
A knock at his door froze him mid-stride. He rolled his shoulders and shaped his lips into a welcoming upturn. On the other side, he found Jarn, assistant to Captain Twalley. Varik’s heart leapt at the site of the beautiful copper-skinned male, and his smile shifted from being a mask to a genuine reflection of his mood. Jarn was young, or at least younger, with a strong jaw, molten brown eyes, and a lean body that begged to be worshipped. Varik leaned forward to catch the scent of his soft, male musk. Footsteps echoed farther down the corridor.
Varik stiffened, wiping the smile from his face. “What?”
“Uh.. Mr. Pectori,” Jarn stuttered. “Captain Twalley requested your presence in his…um... his quarters.” Jarn’s face deepened to a heated bronze color.
Gods what Varik would give to be able to make the male stutter for real, to choke on his cock, to swallow him deep. But he had to focus on the captain and the seduction he’d started in an attempt to convince Twalley to leave the station. Until they were in space, Varik’s hands were tied. If he bedded Jarn the way he dreamed of, he’d hold no sway over Twalley and would likely lose his ride completely.
Once they launched, anything and everything would be possible. Varik smoothed his hands over his shirt, tucking it tightly into his flight pants. He tugged his collar, enjoying the way Jarn’s eyes traced every move. He would fuck this sweet boy, bring them both untold satisfaction, but not soon enough.
“Tell the captain, I’m coming.” Varik paused on the loaded word. “Just need to finish one thing.” Varik closed the door in Jarn’s face before he dragged the assistant across the threshold and ruined everything.
On his comm, he closed the tracking app and sent yet another placating message to his quickly dwindling crew that he had a meeting with Twalley and they could be leaving any cycle, to remain at the ready. It was a lie, or maybe not, depending on how the meeting went, but he had to keep as many of them engaged as possible. To wrest the ship from Twalley, he’d need more than the amorous devotion of Jarn.
Varik checked the time. He’d made Twalley wait long enough. Varik strolled down the pristine, cream-colored corridors that reminded him more of a hospital than a spaceship. The Harlan Johnson was a research vessel, not a working ship. But as soon as he was in charge, this little tug would be working overtime to get The Treasure back under his command where she belonged.
He knocked on the captains door before adopting a casual pose against the frame. A single breath after Twalley opened up Varik rolled into the room giving the captain his best heated stare. “You need me?”
Twalley swallowed, his throat visibly constricting. “Varik.”
Varik smiled a half-smirk and let his eyes go soft. “What can I do for you, Captain?”
“We’re almost ready to embark. I wondered if you might review the travel details with me one more time. You’re so knowledgeable about the ER Bridges and the best fuel rates, travel costs…” Twalley trailed off, his eyes roaming Varik’s body.
“Of course.”
Twalley sat behind his desk. Varik, dragged a soft ottoman beside the man and sat as close as possible—his head at the captain’s chest, his leg pressed tight against Twalley’s leg, and his eyes locked to the screen as if he wasn’t teasing his target.
Jarn cleared his throat and moved from a far corner in the room. Varik resisted the urge to move away from the captain and comfort the lover he desired. He had the lover he required against his body. Jarn could wait. Hopefully would wait. If Jarn truly cared about him, he should wait.
“If you need me, Captain, I’ll be in my quarters.” The note of bitterness in Jarn’s voice scraped against Varik’s skin.
Twalley murmured assent, barely acknowledging his assistant’s exit.
Varik’s heart recorded Jarn’s leaving with an intense ache. He lifted his gaze from the closed door to Twalley’s. “Show me.”
By the time Varik got back to his own quarters, his back was stiff and his brain was glazed over from reviewing the unchanged plans and costs. He and Twalley had reviewed the details a dozen times. Much more of the anxiety driven bullshit, he’d put his fist through the man’s face, and find another fucking mark.
A ping from his comm had him darting across the room. The Treasure’s trajectory meant she was likely headed for Din’Gale. It would require almost no fuel for her to get there, but landing would be difficult. The planet restricted incoming vessels that didn’t originate on Din’Gale in an attempt to reduce the risk of viral, fungal, and non-native plant invasions. The fact that her flight path eliminated almost any other destination told Varik that she either picked up a contract in Morgual, or more likely had secured one from Din’Gale. Something he and Auvi had worked on for galactic years but never been able to achieve. If she got a contract like that, she might build up enough funds to keep The Treasure going as a business, eliminating his potential to reclaim the one-of-a-kind ship.
“Fuck.” He barked out, drawing back his arm to hurl the comm at the wall but thinking better of it before he released. One fucking disaster was enough.