Chapter 17
Despite her height, which I’d heard her complaining about on multiple occasions, Lark weighed practically nothing slung over my shoulder.
“Okay, you can put me down now. They’re out of earshot,” she protested as I made my way to my quarters.
“We’re almost there, quit whining.” I chuckled. I rather liked having her in such a compromising position, and I enjoyed the noise she’d made when I’d spanked her earlier. I wouldn’t have minded doing that again in the privacy of our room and seeing what she had to say about it then.
Once inside the room, I gently set her back on her feet and nudged her toward the bathroom.
“Fine, I’m going.” She stuck her tongue out at me before spinning on her heel and marching into the bathroom.
While she puttered around behind the door, I took a seat on the edge of the bed to consider if this was the right time to discuss what I’d been hoping to talk to her about.
Although the right thing to do would be to wait until she was sober, I also knew I’d get a more honest response from her in her current state.
How was I even going to broach the topic? I’d never been in this situation. Because what I’d cut Ethan off from revealing to Lark was that I’d never been in a relationship before.
I’d never wanted one before.
I was a soldier.
I wasn’t supposed to survive.
But now I had, and all the things I’d pretended I didn’t want were possible, and I wanted her.
More than that, I wanted her to want only me.
I didn’t desire something casual. I’d done that before, with one-night hookups, or brief flings in temporary stations, where both parties knew it had a finite ending.
They’d always left me feeling hollow and worthless.
That was why I’d refused to pursue anything, until now.
Lark was different.
I was different.
She made my chest feel tight, and let’s be honest, made my dick hard. I wanted to study her and listen to her complain and wax poetic about everything. I wanted to fight with her and make up with her. She’d intrigued me from the moment I’d first met her, and I wanted to learn everything about her.
I wanted the real thing with her.
I just needed to convince her to give things a real shot with me, while we were stuck on this ship, with nowhere to go but each other’s arms, for another two months.
The bathroom door slid open, revealing Lark in the same thin tank and white cotton panties she’d worn to bed the night before. She held her boots in one hand and had her uniform slung over the same arm. I didn’t think I’d ever get over how gorgeous she looked, so dressed down.
Those tall, lean legs, and the freckles dusting her cheeks just killed me. Even the bits of hair that refused to stay tied up with the rest at the crown of her head, gently framing her face and cute little button nose, endeared her to me.
I had it bad.
Did she know?
I couldn’t take my eyes off the sway of her hips as she made her way to the panel where she stored her clothes, clicking it open, bending at the waist and giving me an intentionally lascivious view of her pert, round ass, in those damn panties, as she set her boots at the bottom of the storage unit, before straightening to hang her uniform on the hook inside.
Once closed, she engaged the in-unit sterilization process, then she turned around to face me. Her gaze locked with mine as she sauntered over to me, hitching one leg up, with the intention of straddling me again, but I stopped her. She lowered her leg to the ground.
“Hold on, Trouble,” I said softly, running my palms along her arm.
Her gaze narrowed, readying for a fight.
“You’ve been drinking,” I reasoned, despite the growing bulge in my pants.
Lark’s lips pushed out in a pout as she leaned toward me, standing between my splayed legs.
“So?” She brought her fingers to the top of my uniform and slowly dragged the zipper down, exposing the undershirt beneath.
Her fingertip traced along the hem of the undershirt, at the base of my neck. “I don’t mind.”
“I mind.” I captured her hand to stop her fiddling. I met her bright blue eyes, filled with determination.
“I would have wanted to finish what we started in your office earlier, whether or not I’d had the starshine,” she admitted.
I noted her rubbing her thighs together.
The thought of what lay under those panties, and how she was trying to ease an incessant ache between her legs with the friction of her movement, was a tantalizing challenge.
“And we will,” I told her. Unable to help myself, I reached out and grazed the soft skin at her hip with my fingers, causing a ripple of goosebumps to materialize and a shiver to rack her frame. “But I want you completely aware of what I’m doing to you when that happens.”
Her eyes darkened at the insinuation, a soft groan escaping her lips as she squirmed against me.
“Why can’t we just do that now?” she pleaded.
And I almost gave in to her—heaven knows I wanted to—but my gut said to stand by my convictions. “What’s the rush?” I stroked her hip again, relishing another full-body shiver.
Her eyes snapped to mine. “Why does it matter?” she whined. “This is just for fun, while we’re on the mission. No harm, no foul. Who cares if I’m a little tipsy?”
“I care.” I clenched my jaw.
That was not what I wanted to hear. That was the opposite of what I’d hoped for. I didn’t want to be another temporary body for some woman to use and discard. I wanted to matter to someone…I wanted to matter to her.
Lark’s hand moved to grab for my crotch, but I stopped her. Her brow furrowed in frustration at my refusal.
For a moment I thought I should have felt lucky that she was interested at all, and that maybe I should just take what I could get. She knew who I was and what I’d done and she didn’t seem to care; that wouldn’t be the case for most women.
“Let’s figure it out tomorrow,” I told her, releasing her hand and replacing mine at her hip, again, gently stroking her skin there, which seemed to soften her.
“Will you at least lie with me?” She pouted.
I eyed her cautiously.
“I won’t try anything.” She huffed.
If she knew how close I was to fucking that attitude right out of her, she might have pushed harder. She wasn’t prepared for the things I’d do to see her yield beneath me.
“Alright,” I reluctantly agreed, gently moving her to the side so I had room to stand up. I stepped away from the bed and motioned for her to get in, before pacing over to the panel where I stored my own clothes.
I could feel her gaze on me as I toed off my boots, then stepped out of the pant legs of my jumpsuit, before neatly placing them in the cabinet.
“The shirt too,” she called out to me.
I turned, eyebrow raised, to argue with her. But Lark’s gaze was so heated, I was already pulling it over my head before I realized what was happening.
She smiled in response, having gotten her way, yet again. “I like seeing all your tattoos,” she admitted.
I snorted in response, but the thought made me preen internally.
Each one symbolized a person or a moment or a challenge.
And each one had reminded me how alive I was as I’d dutifully watched the needle weave the ink into my skin.
That she liked them meant more to me than she could know, despite the fact that she didn’t understand their significance.
Her eyes followed me as I padded over to the bathroom, making quick work of brushing my teeth and applying a fresh coat of deodorant to be safe, before slipping back into the bedroom, where Lark was waiting for me, in our bed.
I glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room. I knew I was the only person, in theory, who had access to the bedroom feeds, but that didn’t mean that Starlane didn’t have some backdoor, and clearly Meridian could get in wherever they wanted to.
I loathed the idea of anyone seeing our intimate moments.
It was odd that it hadn’t mattered to me as much before now, but I wanted whatever was going on between us, behind closed doors, to stay that way.
I considered covering the camera, but realized that if someone really was watching, it would only clue them in to me being aware of their presence. It wasn’t worth the risk.
“Stop stalling,” Lark purred, and her tone, once again, had me adjusting myself.
“You have to spoon me,” she demanded as I slipped into the bed next to her.
“Okay,” I chuckled, motioning for the cabin lights to turn off before pulling her warm body against mine.
She released a heavy sigh, her entire body relaxing upon her exhale.
And all I could think about was how right she felt in my arms, and how nice it was to be able to hold her and not have to worry about her waking up and yelling at me, like I had been concerned that morning. My, how much had changed in such a short time.
But holding her so close also made me realize that no matter what, I wasn’t going to let her go.
I couldn’t.
I’d find a way to keep her.
“Why don’t you like it when people use your first name?”
I tensed at the question. Nobody asked me about it. They knew better. I guessed the starshine had lowered enough of her inhibitions to remove a regular sense of decorum.
I took a steadying breath, trying to decide how much I wanted to reveal, if anything. “It’s my father’s name.”
“The background research I did on you said you were an orphan,” Lark stated plainly, still not realizing how thin the ice was that she was traversing.
“I was orphaned at ten.”
“Oh…”
I released a sigh, trying to work out the sudden tightness in my chest. I didn’t like thinking about the little family I’d had and how I’d lost it at such a young age.
“So your dad was an asshole, I take it?” she asserted.
“He abused my mother and was directly responsible for her death,” I ground out, wanting the conversation to end.
“Oh…” She shrank in my arms, finally realizing she’d crossed a line, or so I thought. “You could change your name…”
“My mom asked me not to,” I spit out in a clipped tone. “Vaughn is her maiden name. She named me after him because he refused to let her use his surname. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
I didn’t want to talk about how she’d been so in love with him that she was blind to everything he’d put her through, that he had her convinced she deserved everything he’d done to her, and even with her dying breath, that she’d defended him.
I didn’t want to think about how she’d loved him so deeply that it had cost her, her life, and that the ignorance she displayed because of that love was probably why I’d run from feeling anything for my entire life.
But with Lark…she made me feel more deeply than I thought I was capable of.
Lark made me want to feel.
“I’m sorry, Vaughn…” She threaded her fingers through mine, squeezing them tightly.
I said nothing, but pulled her closer, needed to feel her against me, to smell the essence of her to ease the ache in my heart.
“Are we okay?” she asked tentatively, her voice soft, after we’d lain in silence for a while.
“Yeah, Trouble, we’re okay,” I reassured her.
I couldn’t be angry with her for being curious.
And I knew that if I wanted something more with her, I’d have to open up eventually, which was a terrifying prospect, but a necessary one.
I might never have been in a relationship before, but I understood that one should be built on a strong foundation of understanding, vulnerability, and intimacy, all of which would be a constant struggle for me.
“I’m glad you don’t hate me anymore,” she murmured, already half asleep.
“I never hated you,” I asserted. But then, speaking my thoughts out loud, I admitted, “I think I just hate myself…”
Lark turned in my arms, her fingertips brushing against my jaw.
I wished I hadn’t turned the lights off already, so I could see her face.
“You’re doing the best you can. Everyone can see that,” she offered.
“That’s all anyone can do is keep trying, and you try so hard.
” Her voice got quieter as she went. “It’s going to be okay… ”
Only a moment later, she sagged in my hold, her breath evening out as she slipped into slumber, and I wanted to believe her. I needed to.