Delivery (Star Line Express Romance Book 3) Read online

  “We don’t have time for any more,” he says.

  “This was the last time anyway,” I say.

  “Take a shower,” he says.

  While the needle spray hits my body, I come again. Involuntary. My body is so oversexed just by being near Joston Lynar that even a shower is enough to excite me.

  Then Joston comes into the shower room and he must see that I’ve just come, although how he knows this, I’m not sure.

  “I should have come in with you,” he says, stripping.

  “We don’t have any time,” I say.

  “We have just enough time for this,” he says.

  He walks into the shower, shuts the door, sits down on the bench under the spray, and pulls me down onto his cock.

  I come immediately, shocking us both. But it’s not enough. I need more of this. I need so much more of this that I can’t dare think about it.

  Joston takes the soap and spreads the foam across my torso, then over my back, around my buttocks, across my thighs. With his soapy hand he strokes my clit while I fuck him.

  “Don’t you dare stop,” he says. His head is leaning back against the shower wall, his white-blond hair is dark under the cascade, his lashes are sticking to his cheeks. His hands are on my sex, then around my back, then circling my nipples. Then around my waist, moving me up and down on him.

  “I can’t come again,” I say right before I disintegrate into a billion sharp pieces.

  “Aaaaaaah!” Joston says as his stream gushes into me. I keep fucking him, unable to stop.

  “Niya,” Joston says, stopping me. “Niya.”

  I stop. I get up.

  “Finish your shower,” he says. How abrupt. How awful.

  “Nik just commed me,” he says. “We have to meet them in ten minutes.”

  I wash off. So does Joston.

  On our way out of the fabulous Birtak suite, I say, “Do you know anyone named Wilm?”

  “Nice name,” he says. “But, no, I don’t.”

  Joston

  I can’t decide if I should have turned off my comm before I went into the shower room. But, anyway, we do need to get out of here. No matter how much I want to stay here and have sex with this luscious female for another few millennia. In between sprints of racing whatever vehicle I can get my hands on.

  “Do you know anyone named Wilm?” Niya asks me as we leave Chlo and Lasson’s quarters.

  I’ve always thought I’d name my son that, if I ever had a son. You know, sometime in the far, far, untouchably far distant, unknowable future.

  “Nice name,” I say. “But no, I don’t.”

  “It was so vivid,” she says.

  “What was?” I say.

  “The dream.”

  “You were shouting at one point,” I say. “I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn’t.”

  “I was scared,” Niya says.

  “Don’t be afraid,” I say. “We need to stay cool if we’re going to pull this off.”

  “I dreamt that Aeryen could fly,” she says.

  “Well, he does want to be a pilot. So he probably will fly.”

  “I mean, he, himself, was flying. Without a craft.”

  “Now, that would be something,” I say. I wish to hell I could do that. Even in a dream. Although I’d miss the feel of the controls. Yet I’d have new ones. Maybe they’d be better.

  “It was because of you,” she says. “You were spinning him around and you let go. Then he flew off.”

  “Sounds like a great dream,” I say, half thinking about trying out this technique on Aeryen when I’m not busy sneaking back to Engra to help the Redmors gather up their stuff.

  “Joston, stop for a minute,” Niya says.

  Tonight’s showing of The Treachery of Joston Parst will begin in five minutes, says the ship’s announcement.

  I stop. We’re not that far from the theater.

  “You told me that we were going to have a son. Wilm,” she says. “You knew his name.”

  “It’s just a dream,” I say. “And we’re not having a son. Or a daughter. Or anything.”

  “Because you’re using something, right?” Niya says.

  “That’s your job,” I say to her.

  I haven’t had to concern myself with this sort of thing for so long that I didn’t even think about it. Did she say the name was Wilm? That can’t be right. It was her dream, not mine.

  “No, the male always takes care of this,” Niya says. “It’s easier.”

  “Maybe on Engra they do,” I say, even though on Choryn they—that is, I—do as well. It’s how these things are done. But I wasn’t prepared. Or thinking about this. At all.

  “I . . . I’ve never had to,” Niya says. “But—it was just a dream.”

  “Yeah,” I say, hoping to hell it was just a dream. “You do understand that I’m not going to settle down in the Triangulum with you and Aeryen,” I say. “Or anywhere.”

  “I wouldn’t settle down with you anywhere even if you were twice as rich as Lasson Birtak and four times handsomer than Nik Arca.”

  I must be at least twice as handsome as Nik Arca, but I don’t argue the point. I wonder if there’s anyone I would settle down somewhere with—not anywhere in the Triangulum, of course, but anywhere. Somewhere.

  “Niya,” I say. “I have no desire to settle down. With anyone. Even with you and Aeryen.”

  “Good,” she says. “Because I despise you.”

  “There’s no cause for that,” I say. “And just a little while ago I was so sure you at least liked me a small little bit.”

  “I hate you,” she says. “Don’t bother coming tonight.”

  “I told Nik I was going. So I am.”

  “Lovers’ quarrel?” says Nik. He’s right behind me. I turn around. He’s got that wicked glint in his eyes, the one that says he’s going to ride me about this for the next several months, if not for the next several decades.

  “Just getting some facts pinned down,” I say.

  “Good luck with that,” he says. “Facts have a way of pinning themselves down without any help from us.”

  Chapter 14

  Niya

  Great.

  Chlo’s railroaded me into leaving Engra, even though my intention was to have just Aeryen leave. Not me. Never me.

  I’ve just spent the last day having sex with Joston Lynar, the most irresponsible male in the Seven Galaxies.

  And I’m probably pregnant, since I can’t help but think that that was a prophetic dream.

  Now I can’t stay on Engra, even if I want to. Because it was one thing to have Aeryen suddenly appear—I was able to explain that away to anyone who wanted to know. But I wouldn’t be able to explain away an obvious pregnancy.

  We get to the entrance of what must be the theater. It looks like the entire crew is here, and everyone is in high spirits. At first I think it’s because of the vid—I mean, Joston Parst is probably the best vid I’ve ever seen, and it just gets better every time I see it again, and Chlo has told me that it’s the crew’s favorite—but then I see what everyone’s so hepped up about: Aeryen.

  This is a cargo ship full of adults. A kid is an anomaly. A scarcity. Almost a sideshow. No one can get enough of him. There’s a huge, hairy guy asking him questions while a tall, bald female vies for the platform.

  Behind me, Nik and Joston are talking.

  “I’ll meet you in an hour,” Joston says into my ear. “You didn’t really expect me to watch even a flicker of Parst, did you?”

  “I don’t expect anything from you,” I say, because I don’t.

  Nor do I want anything from him. Or need anything. Despite what I said last night.

  That was last night. This is now. Reality. And everything I’m doing is for Aeryen. Not for me.

  I’m still not sure I’m going to return to the Marinax. But I’ll know when I’m back on Engra. I’ll decide then.

  And I won’t have to worry about Aeryen. He’s already made so many friends, and I know
that Chlo will take good care of him.

  Wilm. The name keeps rising into my thoughts.

  That wasn’t a prophetic dream. It can’t have been. For one thing, I’m on the Marinax, not on Engra. I think you have to be on the ground in your home world in order to have a prophetic dream. At least that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve never had a prophetic dream before.

  For another thing, I can’t possibly be fertile. I’m not sure I ever have been. And, also, Joston is Chorynean. Maybe it’s impossible. Perhaps that’s why he was so irresponsible. Because it’s moot. Doesn’t matter.

  Couldn’t happen. Didn’t happen.

  I go into the theater and take a seat next to Aymee.

  “Where’s Chlo?” I say.

  “She said she’d be a little late,” Aymee says. “I don’t know how any of you like this despicable vid.”

  “Joston doesn’t want to see it at all,” I say.

  “I don’t blame him,” Aymee says. “I saw Nik with a bottle of Sircean brandy. I think he and Joston are going to have a couple of shots before, you know.”

  “You’re not going to come, really, are you?” I say.

  “Depends on how I feel,” Aymee says. “Right now, I’m determined to do it. It sounds exciting.”

  “Mom!” Aeryen says as he runs up to our seats. He’s smiling. His anger at me forgotten.

  “These are my new friends,” Aeryen says. “This is Lieutenant Hyll Draybirge”—he points to the huge, hairy guy—“and this is Elna. She’s in charge of all the shipments!”

  I shake both their hands and watch as they glare at each other. Pure hatred. I wonder how they can stand being cooped up on the same ship together all the time, but I don’t have an opportunity to ponder this, since the vid is about to start.

  “Aymee, nice to see you here tonight,” says a commanding-looking, tall, dark-skinned male with the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen. I stand up.

  “Niya, this is Captain Zavl’yn,” Aymee says.

  “Niya,” says the captain. “We’re privileged to have you here. And especially your fine son.”

  “Zav’s my new friend too,” Aeryen says.

  “Too right,” the captain says, grinning.

  “Aeryen,” I say. “Captain Zavl’yn is the right way to address the ship’s captain.”

  “No formalities between old pals. Right, Aeryen?” the captain says.

  “Right!” Aeryen says.

  I think in two months Aeryen will have taken over the entire ship. Maybe that part of my dream is prophetic, although metaphorical—the part where Aeryen can fly all by himself.

  The lights blink, everyone grabs a seat, and as the lights go out, a respectful silence descends. Then the huge blank wall at the front of the theater lights up with the familiar, fiery logo of The Treachery of Joston Parst and the room erupts in applause, hoots, and cheers.

  Aymee, to my left, squirms in her seat and sighs, then leans over and whispers to me, “I don’t know why anyone likes this junk.”

  “Because it’s great,” I say, not whispering, because everyone else in this room agrees with me. And because no one else can hear me over the cheering.

  Aeryen, to my right, bounces in his seat and joins in with the hooting and applause. This is definitely his favorite vid, and a flash of worry zips through my head. Something I’ve never considered. Does Aeryen like Joston Parst because he’s siding with the villain? And is that why he likes Joston Lynar?

  The fabulous Parst theme song, turned up to an earsplitting volume, crashes into the room, everyone cheers louder, Aeryen stands up and yells his appreciation, and Aymee sinks into her seat, covering her eyes.

  “I hate this part,” she says to me, even though I’m sure she hates the entire vid, so it was hardly necessary to distinguish this part.

  I hate Joston Lynar, I think as the vid starts.

  “Don’t kid yourself,” Aymee says, leaning right next to me and whispering in my ear.

  What is she talking about? I turn around to look at her.

  “You don’t hate him,” Aymee says, still whispering. “You love him.”

  “What?”

  “Shhhh!” says Aeryen, and his new friends, sitting to his right, nod in agreement.

  Chapter 15

  Joston

  “I don’t know how anyone can say that’s their favorite vid. Or even watch it.”

  Nik and I have had this argument hundreds of times, but after a few sips of Sircean brandy, it seems like as good a topic as any. We’re sitting in the mess, which is empty, since everyone except Chlo, who went back to her quarters to get ready for our mission, is in the theater, watching Parst.

  “Aymee can’t bear it,” Nik says, “but she’s being a sport and keeping your girlfriend company.”

  “Since when do I have a girlfriend?” I say.

  “Since you landed on Engra,” says Nik.

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  “Come on, Joston. Even you, a seasoned Chorynean liar, can’t hope to lie about this. It’s completely obvious that you and Niya Redmor are, you know, a couple.”

  “Well, there are two of us,” I say, finishing my glass. Nik pours me another and refills his own glass.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t take Chlo’s hint and use that outrageous bedroom this afternoon,” he says. “A helluva lot nicer place than the cell Aymee and I had to use.” Nik gets that wry-and-dreamy look on his face, the one that’s prompted by his remembrances of his first encounters with Chief Engineer Desryx.

  “Nik, just because you and Aymee are in love—just because you and Aymee are married—that doesn’t mean that every male who shows the slightest interest in a female is in love with her or wants to mate with her.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Nik says. “But it gives me a lot of insight into others.”

  “Like?”

  “Take Draybirge and Elna, for example,” Nik says.

  “Those sworn enemies?”

  “If they were any more attracted to each other they’d be fucking in the corridors,” Nik says.

  “They can’t stand each other,” I say. “All they do is argue. They argue even when there’s nothing to argue about.”

  “Joston,” Nik says, “you are a dense fellow. Why do they bother to argue when there’s nothing to argue about?”

  “Hell if I know.”

  Nik and I start in on our third round.

  “This is the last,” Nik says. “We’ve got to stay alert.”

  “I’m good with five,” I say. “After the fifth, I get reckless.”

  “Joston, my friend, you don’t need one Sircean brandy to get reckless. You are reckless. Zav and I are only letting you get away with those antics yesterday because we were expecting them.”

  “Some landing, wasn’t it? A beauty.”

  “And, besides that,” Nik says, “you’re in love with Niya Redmor, aren’t you?”

  “You’re deluded,” I say to my friend. “And maybe a little drunk. I barely even like Niya.”

  “Aymee thinks we’re going to have to find a post for her.”

  “You mean because of Chlo’s ridiculous plan for them to settle in the Triangulum? No one wants to settle there.”

  “Joston, have another brandy.”

  I hold out my glass, but Nik doesn’t pour. He holds on to the bottle.

  “What if I said you couldn’t have any more unless you told me the truth?”

  “I’d say you used to be my friend.”

  Nik puts the bottle down on the table, but he won’t let go.

  “Admit it, Joston.”

  “I admit nothing. I mean, Nik, there’s nothing to admit.”

  “Chlo told me that she has never seen Niya so enamored of any male.”

  “My ego’s in fine shape without needing invented compliments,” I say.

  “Aymee said she thought you, Niya, and Aeryen made the perfect family.” I tilt my glass, but Nik pulls the bottle farther away.

 
“Damn you, Nik. I just want a drink, not some heartfelt chat.”

  “What are you going to do when the two of you are stuck on the Marinax together for two or three months—or years?”

  “You know I won’t have anything to do with a female on the ship,” I say. “Too many problems. And I have to see them every damn day.”

  Nik, Lasson, and I have discussed this over and over, especially during those times when my high moral stance on the issue was on the verge of collapsing.

  “Just marry her and get it over with,” Nik says. “Putting that marriage band on Aymee’s wrist was the happiest moment of my life up until then.”

  “They don’t have marriage on Choryn,” I say. “We’re matched with our life mate.”

  “Don’t give me that crap,” Nik says. “I was on Choryn right when the match system got eliminated. And, you know, there’s a shipment of Big World marriage bands on the Marinax. They’re a fad in the Triangulum.”

  “I’m jumping ship before then,” I say. “I’ve heard just about enough about the Triangulum. About marriage bands. And about Niya Redmor. Pour me a drink before I rip that bottle out of your hand.”

  Nik relents and pours us both a drink.

  “Last one,” Nik says. “We’re meeting Chlo in a few minutes.”

  “You’re not going to let Aymee go with us, are you?” I say. She’d just slow us down, although I don’t want to say that to Nik, who thinks Aymee is some kind of superbeing.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Nik says, downing his brandy in one gulp. “Chlo told me it’s too dangerous. Aymee’s staying right here. Along with your future wife.”

  “Niya will have a fit if she realizes we’ve left her behind,” I say. “She’s sure to blame me for it.”

  “I think a turquoise band would be just right for Niya,” Nik says. “Don’t you?”

  “I think you should shut your Big World mouth and focus on our mission. We’re going to land in Niya’s backyard—”

  “You’re joking.”

  “No, there’s room.”

  “Fuck.”

  “You’re going to watch the raft while Chlo and I go inside and gather up whatever looks essential.”

  “You’re going to let me watch the raft? Damned nice of you, Lynar.” Nik eyes the bottle. He’s thinking about having a fifth drink, as I am.