Qaiyaan followed the posungi to a small room behind the bar, where the orange alien sat on a high backed wing-chair that had seen better days. A small table beside him held a decanter and two glasses, but he didn’t offer refreshment. A second, smaller version of his chair faced him; too small to be comfortable for Qaiyaan, so he remained standing. To the left, a large mirror dominated the wall, and when Qaiyaan sent an ionic pulse in that direction, he sensed someone watching from behind the one-way glass. He’d dealt with aliens like Nupnup before. Much of what transpired would be bluff and bravado. He’d expected no less.

Keeping his face passive, he waited as Nupnup reviewed the list Mek had put together. Finally, the tentacle-faced alien looked up. “You are requesting many specialty medical items. What do you need them for?”

“No questions asked.” Qaiyaan reiterated what Lisa’d said about the contact.

Nupnup made a small, disappointed noise. “Your ship is quite antiquated and will require special considerations for repair. That may take some time.”

Scowling, Qaiyaan crossed his arms and glowered down at the alien. “Are you calling my ship junk?”

Nupnup wriggled a tentacle in dismissal. “I would never call a captain’s ship junk to his face.”

Qaiyaan grit his teeth at the sideways insult. “How much time?”

“I can procure the medical items and send them over this afternoon. But I cannot estimate the hull repair until my man has looked at it.” He ran one tentacle over his blubbery lips. “Tracking down the appropriate parts might take a solar week. Perhaps you would like to rent a room?”

Using his ionic senses, Qaiyaan assessed the alien’s heartbeat, breathing, and skin temperature. He’d had limited dealings with posungi, and without a baseline, it was difficult to interpret Nupnup’s integrity. He seemed calm enough. But Qaiyaan’s black market dealings made him wary. What other choice do you have? “Just get me what I need and I’ll be out of your hair, uh, tentacles.”

The posungi’s four eyes seemed to wink at him. “I’ll send someone over to assess your ship’s requirements.”

“The sooner, the better.” Qaiyaan spun and left the small room.

Back in the casino, he scanned the floor for Lisa. A garan’uk trundled past in its mechanized methane tank, blocking Qaiyaan’s view. Dodging right, he headed toward a glint of what appeared to be gold fabric near the bar. He cleared the attahat wheel only to discover a rakwiji talking loudly to the bartender, sharp teeth reflecting the nearby neon lights. Lisa was nowhere in sight. For Ellam Cua's sake, where'd she go?

Earlier, as she'd moved across the room, he'd nearly busted out of his skin with jealousy, aware of every set of male eyes drawn to her swaying hips. She'd played the patrons like a pro, pausing with just enough of a smile near one table, then laughing at a stupid joke at another. Once she reached the posungi's table, he'd been relieved the ordeal was almost over. But then she'd latched onto that smarmy human for an entire round before moving to the target. By the time Nupnup had his tentacles all over her, Qaiyaan'd been at his wit's end. He knew he'd moved in too fast, but he couldn't take it anymore. He figured he could stall the guy long enough for her to get her reading, and he'd been right; she'd sent him the very clear and distinct body language to proceed.

Her cyber-sensitivity was going to make his crew a lot of money, plus, she knew the black market underground probably even better than he did. She’d be a valuable member of the crew—if he could keep himself from ripping her clothes off and finishing what she’d started back in his cabin. The hard-on he’d been fighting for the last two days had only grown more persistent with time. She had a keen wit, and a body any man would die for. Then she’d put on that dress…

You just need some time to get used to her. But he had a hard time believing anything about Lisa would ever become mundane or ignorable. While he searched the room, he tapped his cochlear implant. “Tovik, someone’ll be arriving to evaluate the hull for repairs. Keep an eye on him.”

“Aye-aye, captain.” The voice in his head replied. “How long you going to be?”

“Not sure. I’ll let you know.”

Moving down the hall toward the slot machines, his ionic senses grew desperate, yearning to call out to her. He hadn’t thought to set up a rendezvous point in the event they were separated. A true mate-bond would come in very useful right now, enabling them to talk, no matter how far apart. Not that he had any hope of that, with her or with anyone.

He took a deep calming breath and kept looking. Spotting the shimmer of gold fabric near the slot machines, he discovered Lisa flirting with two young finofans. He paused, watching her throw back her head and laugh, obviously fake. But the finofans were falling over themselves to touch her, their fluorescently-painted ear fins fluttering with aroused excitement. One leaned in close to her to whisper something in her ear, and a heated surge of jealousy—a sensation he was becoming all too familiar with—flooded his limbs. Then he saw her fingertips dip into the male’s pocket and extract a key. What the hell’s she doing? The one thing he didn’t need was a repeat jail-break like he’d had to do when Noatak’d fallen off the wagon with those recovery stims.

He marched over, towering above the young aliens, and glowered down at them. “This female’s mine. Beat it.”

The finofans cowered, ear fins flattening against their skulls, then scurried away without a sound. Lisa chuckled low in her throat. “Just in time,” she said, taking his hand.

Before he could question her about the key, she was leading him to the elevator. Inside, he turned to her. “Want to tell me what you’re up to?”

“Play along.” Her gaze flicked to a high corner of the car and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Over her head, he spotted the camera. Who was she concerned was watching? Before he could tell her no, her mouth was on his, her tongue pressing between his lips and lighting his blood on fire. Every atom of his being surged with desire, polarizing toward her. He’d been dreaming of this since his cabin, the flavor of her filling him, floral musk and sweet feminine skin.

Her soft body molded against his hard one, and a shudder ran through her. He was sure she felt it, too, this hunger and volatile urgency. This wasn’t a performance for the camera. This was real, primal. He splayed his palm against her lower back, fingertips electrified against the skin exposed by her dress’s scooped back. Her hands clawed into his shoulders as if hanging on for dear life.

Taking several measured breaths even as he tangled his tongue with hers, he reined in his urge to nudge her, tamping down his ionic power and walling it up. Instinct battered against those walls, weakening his resolve almost as quickly as he gathered it.

To his relief, the elevator chimed. Her lips swollen from the bruising kiss, she blinked glazed eyes. Her voice emerged a husky whisper. “Our floor, I think.” She broke the embrace. “This way.”

His skin ached in the void where her body had been, urging him to reach for her, to draw her close. He balled his hands into fists and followed her. This couldn’t go any further. He knew that. But his ionic power roiled inside him like a class five hydrogen nebula.

They reached the room and the door opened in a warm rush of air, temperatures fit for finofan comfort. He breathed deeply, the change a welcome distraction. Inside, the standard decorations included two double beds and a vid-screen view of a pink sunset over deep golden mountains. She gestured him inside then secured the lock, turning to press her back against the door panel. “So? How’d it go?”

He moved to the bed and sank heavily onto the mattress. The kiss had been for the camera. He was relieved yet still clamoring for her touch. “I’m not sure I trust that Nupnup fellow.”

“You shouldn’t. He might not be cartel, but he works for them.” She moved toward the replicator console on the wall. “Tula cream cocktails on ice. Two.”

Qaiyaan couldn’t keep his gaze from her well-rounded curves or the long swath of leg peeking from the gown’s slit every time she moved. He’d done far too good a job designing that dress. That’s what came of years enduring “look-don’t-touch,” he supposed. “He’s sending the medical stuff Mek needs for you. The hull repair may take a week.”

Looking over her shoulder at him, she frowned. “A week? Mek thought you needed a simple patch or something. Is the damage that bad?”

“I try not to alarm my crew. But yeah,” he answered truthfully. There was no reason to keep secrets from her. “We’ve been about to bust a seam for a while now.”

“I guess that means we have some time to kill, then. Courtesy of my finofan friends.” Grinning, Lisa retrieved the drinks and offered one to him.

He gratefully sipped the icy cocktail. The smooth, buttery flavor of tula fruit and cream washed over his tongue. She sipped hers, and he watched the lines of her throat tighten while she swallowed. Damn, this woman was the most alluring thing he’d ever seen. “What if they come back?”

“Don’t worry.” She set her drink on the bedside table and moved to stand between his knees. “Those fellows won’t find a hook-up for hours with the lines they’re using.”

Her musky lilac scent flooded over him and once again his cock stirred. Even if he hadn’t been able to sense her matching arousal through her resonance, it was obvious in the hardened nipples outlined by the thin fabric of her gown.

She ran a fingertip down his cheek and along his bearded jaw. “I want to try something.”

His heartbeats sounded like full-thrust engines roaring in his ears. “We can’t. You know we can’t.”

She tilted her head. “We kissed in the elevator and I’m okay.”

He licked his lips, remembering. “I had my guard up.”

“So did I.”

That made him pause. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been hacking my own nanites.”

He blinked, confused. “You can do that?”

“That’s what I want to test.” She reached down and picked up his hand, placing his palm between her breasts over her fiercely pounding heart. “If I’m going to be a member of your crew, we have to learn to be around each other.”

Exactly what he’d been thinking. And if she could fix her nanites… He took a deep breath of her delicious scent. If she joined his crew, he’d eventually find himself touching her. May as well test it now instead of once they were in deep space. “It could be deadly.”

Her mouth twisted into a playful smile. “It could be fun. One kiss.”

He groaned and closed his eyes. He was thinking of more than a kiss. He was thinking of sheathing himself inside her, feeling the quiver of her body around him. Was she sending this emotion? It didn’t matter. If she was asking, he’d give whatever she wanted. Opening his eyes he slid his palm from between her breasts to rest over her throat. Her pulse throbbed beneath his fingertips. “One kiss.”

* * *

Lisa’s nanites jittered in anticipation, heightening her awareness of Qaiyaan’s touch. Her desire for his touch. She wanted his hands all over her body. The danger involved only heightened her arousal. Just remember to keep tabs on those nanites. The kiss in the elevator had proved to her that her reprogramming was working; the nanites could match Qaiyaan’s dangerous frequencies.

He rose to his feet, towering over her, the heat of his muscular chest a hairsbreadth away. Her nipples hardened at his nearness. When he bent his head to capture her mouth the kiss stole her breath. Rockets of desire raced down her body and pooled between her thighs. If this was how close he could bring her to orgasm with a kiss, what would sex with him feel like?

She melted forward until her breasts made contact with his solid chest. His hand snaked around her backside to bring her toward him, his erection thick and insistent against her. The jolt to her nerves from the touch made her dizzy. No passing out. She bolstered her nanites, much the same way she’d done to resist the doctor’s scans, and the dizziness subsided. Elation rushed through her. You can do this.

Raising a leg around Qaiyaan’s hips, she shivered in anticipation as his cock pulsed and twitched against the thin fabric of her panties. His lips broke from hers only enough to murmur, “Okay?”

She nodded furiously and drew her other leg up, locking her ankles behind him.

He turned and dropped them both onto the bed, his weight above her a hot, pulsing mass of desire. She cupped his bearded face with both hands, her mouth as hungry as his, their tongues and lips tangling and dancing, each trying to devour the other. Her dress had been pushed almost to her waist, and his hand found her thigh, skimming up to cup her bottom. His rock-hard chest crushed against her aching breasts, and her panties were soaked where his erection pressed between her legs.

Broad palm massaging her hip, he worked his way up her side until he reached a breast. His breath caressed her cheek and throat as surely as his hand caressed the soft mound beneath her gown. Trailing kisses along her jaw, he sucked at her throat while massaging her aching breast, thumb circling her areola, teasing her into an aching peak. Then he dipped down and eased her free of the gown’s low neckline, revealing her tender flesh to his tongue and the delightful tickle of his beard. She moaned, arching upward to meet him as he nipped and suckled her nipple. His other hand slipped between their bodies and cupped her sex, massaging her through her panties.

“Take them off,” she begged.

He slipped his fingers beneath the fabric and stroked a finger along her slick cleft before plunging it inside. She cried out, bucking against him. He pulled out in a long, slow agony of pleasure. Raising her hips, she begged for more. Still sucking her nipple, he slammed into her again, his palm connecting with her clit. The electric jolt from the contact arced straight to her core.

Qaiyaan groaned and wriggled his thick finger deep inside her, grinding against her outer lips as she squirmed. His other hand hooked the neckline of her gown and the fragile garment parted down the front. Tongue tracing a searing path along her ribs, he lapped and sucked his way across her belly while his fingers continued a rhythm deep inside her. Then he tore her panties away and buried his face between her legs.

His mouth worked her swollen nub until hot flashes of pleasure ripped through her. His tongue, oh his tongue! Her hands wound themselves into his mass of hair as he circled her clit, his fingers plunging inside her with a friction that was rapidly bringing her to the brink of climax. She bucked and arched against him, wanting more, wanting his cock. He kept teasing the sweet spot he'd found deep inside her with his finger. The pressure built fast and hot until her entire body trembled with desire.

“Yes, Qaiyaan!” she cried, her head thrashing back and forth.

He picked up speed, adding a third finger, stretching her in an agony of pleasure. Her pulse raced so fast and hard, she thought she might actually have a heart attack and die. Pressure deep in her belly swelled, hovered. His hand that had been toying with her breast moved down to push gently on her lower abdomen, increasing the pressure of his fingers inside her.

The added sensation sent her tumbling over the edge. She screamed, her pulsing epicenter shooting mind-numbing waves of pleasure outward to her head and toes and every part in between. Never in her life had she experienced anything so intense. Her nanites were like streams of fire in her blood, lighting up every nerve ending as if the very universe couldn’t contain their power.

The orgasm went on and on, longer than any woman had a right to come. The tiniest part of her realized she was in trouble a bare flicker before the world began to spin. She reached for her nanites, knowing it was too late. A program crash had begun. Not again!

Qaiyaan loomed over her, his copper-skinned face lined with concern. “Lisa?”

Clinging to consciousness, she blinked up at him. Put her fingertips to his cheek. Then everything faded to black.