After dinner, Ariston and Mick walked arm-in-arm toward the hotel on the twelfth level, toward the side of Talon Station that had a view of twin gas giants and the Leto Nebula no matter where in its orbit it was. Normally, he wouldn’t splurge for an opulent room, being content in one of the closet-like interior rooms, but his pay had been stacking up in his account, unneeded when he’d been on the salvage ship, so he felt he could splurge. Besides, he’d hoped against hope that Mick would come, and had wanted to please her if she did.

He grinned at her—he’d struggled not to do so throughout their entire meal—tickled at how the day had turned out. He’d believed she would be exonerated if she simply showed up to speak for herself, especially with him there to vouch for her, but he hadn’t known if she’d believed that. When he had flown through the wormhole gate first, he’d worried that she would turn around and head to the gate on the other side of the system, returning to her home world and disappearing forever.

Perhaps noticing his gaze, Mick looked over at him.

He kept himself from saying—again—that he was glad she’d come. She seemed the type to like a tough, independent man, not some needy fellow who would fall apart without a woman in his life. But he’d been the former for so many years, not letting himself go out and seek a relationship with someone new, not believing there was anyone new that he wanted, that this was still novel.

“I told my scientists about the chip,” Mick said, touching her temple, “and they’re now dying to get one to study. I’ve been sleeping with my door locked because I caught Dr. Lee looking speculatively at my head while flipping a nail file that reminded me uncomfortably of a scalpel. I am open to having the chip removed, but I’d want an actual medical doctor to do the surgery.”

“That seems wise. The admiral sent everything I learned about the ruins and the civilization, most of it through your people, off to Headquarters. I believe the sack of skulls is also being sent to Dethocoles, to a research facility at one of the universities. Eventually, they should figure out what exactly happened to the original humans there. It seems the chips protected people from the sun’s effects and that they were supposed to be passed on from generation to generation. But for some reason, the inhabitants stopped passing them on. And then things got dicey.”

“Maybe they found the manner in which the chips passed themselves along a little creepy.”

“Possibly.”

“And then they started throwing the dead people into… what did you say it was?”

“A water reservoir with some tar or similar gunk that preserved the skulls.”

“The chips would have had a hard time transferring to new people from down there, I imagine.”

“Perhaps so.” Though Ariston found the mystery of the dead civilization interesting, he would prefer to talk about less gruesome topics tonight. He bumped her shoulder gently with his. “I spent a lot of time working out on the way here. To ensure I’d be fit in case we played Kapti again.”

“Already anticipating losing and having to do push-ups?”

“Those push-ups led to such an interesting place last time that I’m hoping for a repeat.”

“We could skip the game, and you could strip and do a handstand as soon as we get to your room. I have to admit, there are few times in my life when I’ve groped an upside-down man.”

“I had actually hoped you would grope more of me last time.”

“I might have, but you flipped upright and mashed me up against the table.”

“You’d think I would have learned more patience by my advanced, gray-haired age.” They reached the room, and he waved the door open, stepping back so she could go in first.

“Those grays are really bothering you, aren’t they?”

“No.”

Mick paused on the threshold and arched her eyebrows at him.

“Perhaps I’ll look into some hair mods.”

“I like your grays, but it’s up to you. I’ve dyed hair before and can help if you want.” She walked in, smiled at the huge window and the view, but then turned all her attention on him. She gave him a long, appreciative look up and down, one that excited him more than she could know. “Why don’t you come over here, and we’ll see if there are grays anywhere else that we have to dye.”

He had been halfway to her, his arms outstretched, but he faltered at this horrifying image.

Whatever the expression on his face was, she laughed at it. Since he hadn’t heard her laugh often—was this the first time?—he couldn’t mind being the butt of a joke.

“Didn’t your wife ever tease you?” Mick asked.

Ariston didn’t answer right away, considering if he wanted to discuss Zya with Mick, or if it was even appropriate. How would he feel if she brought up some past lover? He didn’t think he’d want to hear about it, or have cause to wonder if she was imagining that lover while they were in bed together. But she’d been the one to bring up Zya. It would be rude to brush off the question, and he didn’t want to make it seem that he had anything to hide.

“She did actually,” Ariston said, “but not about gray hairs, since there weren’t any of them then.”

“What did she tease you about?” Mick walked to the table instead of the bed, where the room attendant had left a bottle of sparkling white wine in a chiller, along with two glasses.

Ariston hadn’t ordered the alcohol and wasn’t sure if the hotel attendants had seen him walking in with a guest and acted promptly or if it would have come with the room, regardless. He imagined how depressed he would have been in here, drinking it by himself.

“Usually about my fighting skills, though they improved a lot during the time we served together. She thumped me regularly in the beginning, but I won two out of three in the end. She teased me about the one out of threes, about letting a girl win.”

“You’ve either come a long way since then, or she was an amazing fighter.”

“Both. She started out as space fleet security and trained troops in unarmed combat and marksmanship, but she had an analytical mind and ended up switching into the command track. Once she decided she was interested in it, she made it to the position of ship’s captain in record time.”

Mick nodded, opened the bottle, and poured wine into the glasses. Ariston hoped he hadn’t said, or wouldn’t say, the wrong thing in regard to his wife. Would Mick be upset if he praised Zya too often? Would she feel she had some high standard to live up to? She seemed strong enough and confident enough in herself not to be affected by such things, but Ariston had seen the confidence of great men—and women—rattled before, by seemingly small events.

He sat down in the chair next to hers, arranging it so they could both admire the view, the light pinks and purples of the nebula striking against the backdrop of space.

“There were a couple of times I wondered,” Mick said slowly, holding her glass in both hands and gazing into the wine, “if you were thinking of her.”

“When I was with you?”

“Yes. I’d understand if you were, but at the same time… that would be hard for me.”

“In the beginning, I did compare you to her a little,” Ariston said, wanting to be honest with her, though he feared offending her. “You’re strong and tough, as she was, and as others I’ve been attracted to in the past have been.”

She looked at him. “You must like women who tease you.”

“Well, I like a challenge.” Ariston was relieved she didn’t seem upset or angry. “I’ve always been more interested in having a partner for my adventures in life, rather than someone who would stay at home with a family.”

“I’ve got nothing against people who stay home and raise families, but it’s not really me,” Mick said.

“I gathered that from the fact that you left Gaia at the first chance, won a spaceship in a card game, learned how to fly it within months, and are now roaming the galaxy and getting into trouble.”

“You are very perceptive.” Mick sipped from her glass. “Are you going to drink some of that or will it mess up your all-suet diet?”

He snorted and picked up his glass. “It will, but I like to indulge a little between missions. Good drinks, good food. Good sex.”

“Me too.” She held his gaze as she drank again.

“Before we further explore… our drinks, I want to tell you that even though I made comparisons between you and Zya in the beginning, by the time we’d gone into battle together two or three times, you came to be your own person to me. A person I was interested in knowing better. When you were groping me in not quite the right places, I was definitely thinking of you.”

This time, he drank, a long swallow while holding her gaze over the rim of the glass.

She smirked. “What I’m hearing you say is that I was supposed to grab your penis when you were doing that handstand.”

“Was it not at the right height?”

“Quite conveniently placed, yes. But as I said, you stood up and kissed me before I could explore it.”

“Perhaps if I were given another chance, I could be more patient.”

“I’d be willing to give you another chance. I am amazingly magnanimous.”

“I’m a lucky man, then.”

“Absolutely. And Ariston? I’m glad… Thanks for being honest with me. I didn’t want to be some substitute and wonder if you were imagining someone else.”

“Never,” he whispered, surprised by how heartfelt and fierce the word came out.

Relief filled her eyes. Yes, even the most confident people could have doubts, moments when their confidence faltered. He was relieved she had given him the chance to explain his feelings.

“Even though we haven’t known each other long,” he said, “we’ve been through a lot together, and I—I don’t say this lightly, but I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“I think I could fall in love with you too. That won’t make it harder for you to be patient, will it?”

“It might.”

Ariston took another swallow from his wine, not enough to interfere with his athletic abilities, and stood up. Mick watched him as he unfastened his jacket and tossed it on the back of his chair.

Her eyes were keen, intensely interested. He used the theatrical skills he’d promised he had to make a show of removing the rest of his clothing, letting his fingers stray to highlight some muscle or other body part. He was turned on by the way her gaze followed his every movement.

By the time his boots and trousers came off, his cock had already grown stiff. He decided not to tell her how often on the way to Talon Station he’d kicked himself for not accepting Mick’s offer on her ship. But if he had, questions and uncertainties would have clouded their joining. Now, there was nothing for her to gain from sleeping with him. He knew she wanted to be here, wanted him.

“A hundred push-ups?” he asked, tugging off his underwear and tossing it onto the chair.

“You don’t want to play a few rounds of Kapti first?”

“I’m assuming I’ll lose and offering to go straight to fulfilling the loser’s role.”

“That’s noble of you. And convenient, since I didn’t bring any chocolate-covered coffee beans. I’ll be generous and only make you do fifty.” Mick eased out of her seat and slid a finger down the fastener of her top. “That’ll let you warm up and give me time to adjust my clothing.”

The sides of her top came apart, revealing a blue bra with a lacy bow in the center and the soft skin of her belly. He swallowed, tempted to step forward and grab her, forgetting notions of push-ups.

But she smirked and pointed a finger at the floor. “We can’t work on your patience if you break the script.”

He snorted and almost ignored the suggestion, anyway, but admitted to being titillated by the idea of having her explore his body—and grope all the right parts—while he did a handstand.

He dropped to the floor for push-ups, starting the way he had last time. Mick was busier this time. Instead of watching from her seat for most of the exercise, she bent down, tugging off the wedge sandals she’d worn. It was the first time he’d seen her in anything except combat boots, and he liked it. He liked it even more when they came off and she slowly slid a finger up her shapely calf.

“Is it hard to do push-ups with your head cranked to the side like that?” she asked.

“No, but if you want to stand on my other side to take off your next garment, you can help me keep things even.”

She chuckled, and he realized he had no idea how many push-ups he’d done. Twenty? Thirty? He’d slowed down during the calf touching.

Mick pushed her sandals under the table, and her loose slacks came down next, pooling around her ankles. Her bra followed, the straps dropping in a tangle.

Ariston gulped, pausing halfway through a push-up. He reminded himself that he should finish quickly so his arm muscles wouldn’t wear out later. He hadn’t been joking about working out obsessively during the ride to the station, but it had only been three days. He would have to trust that his overall fitness level would suffice.

Panties joined the rest of the clothing on the floor, and he couldn’t keep from twisting mightily to look up. It was like gazing upon a goddess, upon Artemis herself. As he’d first seen in the decon shower, she was the perfect blend of muscle and athleticism and curves and femininity. And gods, was she hot.

His cock was rigid and ready. Wanting to know why he was exercising instead of springing up and taking her right there.

“You have three left,” she said, her hands on her hips as she gazed down at him, her eyes sultry.

He had no idea if she was right or had randomly picked a number, but he knocked out three quick push-ups. Patience. They were working on patience, he told his frustrated cock.

Ariston faced downward, though he was extremely aware of Mick’s shapely calves—and all her other shapely bits—only a couple of feet from him. Flexing his core muscles, he kicked his legs up into a handstand.

“Now that is an amazing view,” Mick said, stepping right up to him, her breasts brushing sensitive flesh as she rested her hands on his outer thighs, as if she were his spotter. Her eagerness to get close excited him. She hadn’t hesitated a second.

“Are you talking about me? Or the nebula?” Most of his blood was rushing to his head, but some of it surged to his cock too. It seemed to throb in sync with the heartbeat he could feel in his ears.

“What nebula?”

Her hands slid around to cup his ass, and she nuzzled him, rubbing her cheek against his cock. His nerves lit on fire. It was a good thing she also held him because he couldn’t think about maintaining his balance now, couldn’t think about anything except her flaming hot touch.

Her tongue came out, warm and moist and oh so tantalizing as she slid it along his cock. His breaths grew quick, and his body trembled. He didn’t know if it was from holding the position or because of what she was doing to him.

While her tongue explored his rigid shaft, her hands moved up and down his thighs, nails scraping deliciously. If he wasn’t careful, her sweet explorations would send him over the edge.

“How long can you hold it?” she murmured, her lips tracing him, a hand coming up to stroke his balls.

“The position?” His arms visibly trembled now, but there was no way he would put an end to this. “Or my rocket’s takeoff?”

“You call your penis a rocket?”

He felt her smile against his heated flesh. Then she went back to sliding her tongue along him, making soft noises as if she enjoyed it and couldn’t get enough of looking at him, of tasting him. He hoped that was so.

“What would you call it?”

“Just a hard, sexy cock,” she whispered, the words almost a growl.

Before he could think up a retort, she slipped her mouth around his tip, sucking him in deeply.

The intense explosion of sensation made him gasp and thrust toward her—and lose his damn balance. Too quickly for him to compensate, he thumped down on his shoulder.

She tried to catch his legs, but she’d no doubt been distracted by other things, and he pitched sideways, legs hitting the end of the bed. He landed hard, groaning as he rolled onto his back. The heat surging into his cheeks had nothing to do with all the blood that had been in his head.

“Are you all right?” she asked, kneeling and laying a hand on his chest.

“Yes. Just embarrassed. Chagrined. Deflated.”

“Not that deflated.” Mick grinned and looked toward his groin.

He grunted. “No, that part of me probably doesn’t even realize what happened. It’s just annoyed with me for letting it fall out of your mouth.”

Her grin broadened. At least she seemed to be having a good time. Her hand shifted from resting to trailing down his chest, and she didn’t seem disappointed in his… premature dismount.

“It’s probably just as well,” Mick said, eyeing him through her lashes. “Rockets are supposed to go up, not down, and I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to do my part while you were in that position.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not inflexible, but I never won any limbo contests, either.”

“My chip had trouble translating that, but I’m choosing to decipher it as we should move to the bed.”

“An agreeable translation.”

Ariston rose without using his hands, attempting to erase her memory of his klutzy moment with a demonstration of lithe strength. He sat on the end of the bed, patting the spot next to him as he admired her sleek form. The advantage of switching to this position was that he would have full use of his hands. And his mouth.

She smiled as if she agreed with the thought, but came down on her knees between his legs instead of on the bed beside him. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t necessary, that they could enjoy each other together at the same time, but looking at her kneeling there, her full breasts on display as she gazed up at him, turned him on anew.

He leaned forward, capturing her face for a kiss, one she returned eagerly, hungrily, and his cock grew almost painfully hard. Again.

She clasped him lightly with one hand as her other traced the dips and bulges of his chest muscles. He let his fingers stray from her cheeks, down the sides of her neck, and to her breasts. She shifted on her knees, leaning into him as he cupped them, thumbs brushing her taut nipples.

For a moment, she was still, as if delighting in his touch, but then her hands went back to work. One grasped his base, and she bent forward, breaking their kiss to go down to him.

His rocket went up most agreeably, almost surging toward her. She traced him with her tongue again, and he leaned back, closing his eyes as sheer pleasure coursed through him.

When she took him in her mouth, he growled, fingers clenching the bedding. It was all he could do not to thrust up into her, to satisfy himself as soon as possible.

Fortunately, she didn’t dawdle. She sensed his need and gripped his ass with one hand while she held him with the other and took him deep. Deep and fast.

He found himself panting even though she was doing all the work. Tension built in his body, his muscles flexing as he strained toward her.

She drew him, her mouth tighter this time, and the suction sent a charged electrical current through his veins. Her fingers tightened around his ass, pulling him harder against her, more fully into her. His cock was so ready that he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Coming, Mick,” he panted in warning so she could pull away.

But her grip only tightened, as if she relished having him hard and full in her mouth, as if she couldn’t get enough of him. She sucked him deep, and the stars in that nebula seemed to go supernova as he came.

She drank him in, groaning softly, then nuzzling him with loving tenderness that made his heart ache.

All the tension left his muscles, and he could have easily collapsed back on the bed, but he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head.

“I trust my rocket went in the right direction,” he murmured, resting his cheek against her soft hair and rubbing and stroking her shoulders.

“Mostly,” she said, kissing it before lifting her face, a smile crooking her lips.

“Mostly?”

“It cants a little to the left when it’s ready to take off.”

“Huh, guess it’s good I became an engineer instead of a pilot.”

Mick chuckled again. He loved it. He’d known she had a sense of humor, but he’d never gotten to see her truly amused and truly relaxed out on that mission.

Though she wasn’t truly relaxed now. Her face was flushed, her eyes hungry and intense as she gazed up at him. He could smell the scent of her arousal and reminded himself that he’d done nothing for her as he’d sat there, trembling under her exquisite touch. And she knelt before him now, naked and beautiful and ready.

He locked eyes with her. “Your turn.”

Excitement flared in her heated gaze, and she rose gracefully to her feet. He also stood so he could swoop her into his arms and carry her to the side of the bed.

He’d said her name.

Mick flung her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck as Ariston carried her to the bed. She’d believed him when he said he’d stopped thinking of his dead wife and come to know her as a person, but she’d had a few lingering doubts that he would remember he was with her and not the memory of another woman. Especially when she’d been sucking his cock, and he’d been looking at the ceiling instead of her.

But then he’d roared out her name, panting that warning that he was coming.

As if she would have pulled away and let him spend himself in a towel. She’d been way too turned on at that point. And she still was.

She kissed his neck, tasting his fresh sweat, running her tongue along the strong tendon there. She was tempted to lower a hand between her legs to rub herself, but he’d promised it was her turn. She could wait. She relished his powerful arms around her now, and she wanted him to touch her.

Ariston lowered her to the bed. He lay her head on the pillows and came down above her, propping himself on one elbow and stroking her hair. He gazed at her for a moment. Thankfully not a long moment, as she was antsy and eager for more vigorous touching. She would supply her own if he didn’t oblige, but he must have sensed her need, for he brought his mouth to hers and cupped her breast, his thumb stroking her sensitive skin.

She returned his kiss, her lips eager, her mouth demanding, and she ran her hands over his arms and shoulders and down his back, kneading and digging into his incredible physique. The hand on her breast drifted downward, his nails grazing across her belly, stoking further desire within her.

His fingers brushed lower, and she shifted her hips upward, spreading her legs, not shy about opening herself to him. She wanted his touch so much, for him to satisfy the ache that had been growing in her since he first removed his clothes after that card game on the ship.

They’d joked about patience, but he could have spread her against the table that night, and she would have been ready for him. Not that she regretted waiting, not when it had ended with this night. She was enjoying the hell out of herself, and she’d never been so turned on by giving a blow job in her life.

She gripped his shoulder blades and kissed him harder, capturing his tongue with hers and sucking on it, as she’d sucked on his hard cock.

He growled and leaned into her, his tongue slipping free and delving into her mouth. His kiss grew more insistent, more possessive, and she sensed his hunger growing, his desire to claim her for his own.

Was he getting hard again? It seemed too soon for that. She didn’t want to drag her lips from his or stop clutching her arms around him to check.

His thumb found her crease, parting her lower lips and slipping into her warm depths. She groaned into his mouth, not holding back her enthusiasm. He brushed her clit, and she gasped, her hips lurching up as pleasure rocketed through her.

He broke their kiss, and she lifted her head in protest, wanting to recapture his lips.

But he only smiled, his hair mussed and his eyes gleaming—damn, he was gorgeous—and shifted himself lower on the bed. His thumb was still between her lower lips, and he eased it around her clit, finding all her sensitive spots. As pulses of pleasure hammered her, she forgave him for stopping their kisses. Especially when his lips found one of her pert nipples. He suckled her as his thumb roused her further. She found herself arching off the bed, fingers clenching and unclenching the spread.

“Mick,” he murmured, licking and nipping his way to her other breast. “You taste amazing.”

All she could do was pant and thrust toward him in response, but hearing her name on his lips thrilled her. He could never say it too many times.

He bit her gently, and she almost came for him right there. But he wasn’t done with her. His mouth drifted lower, tasting her, nipping at her, somehow knowing her most sensitive spots and lingering on them. All the while, his thumb stroked and rubbed, leaving her body trembling and on the verge of ecstasy.

Finally, his mouth replaced his thumb, and she cried out his name as his lips locked around her clit. She bucked, the pleasure clenching her body too much for her to think, to do anything except lift herself toward him. She looked down, every part of her clenched with need, and met his intense eyes. At that moment, he sucked on her clit, and she came for him, a tidal wave of ecstasy pounding through her.

Mick collapsed, every hint of tension disappearing from her sated body. Her breaths still came fast and ragged, and she tried to slow them, tried to relax and enjoy the bliss. God, had she ever experienced such an intense orgasm? She should have known he’d be incredible when she’d first seen him fight. All that stamina and agility and prowess.

She grew aware of two things, of Ariston stroking her gently with his thumb again, as he watched her through hooded eyes, and of his cock against her thigh, no longer flaccid and spent, but rigid and full.

He was looking her up and down, his gaze drinking in her breasts and her throbbing pussy, legs still spread for him. Why wouldn’t they be? He kept touching her perfectly, drawing out her orgasm, or maybe starting a new one. Seeing him hard and so turned on by her sent tendrils of desire through her anew.

“Looks like someone’s ready for more push-ups,” she teased, glad she finally had the breath to do so again.

His eyes flared with intensity, with desire, as they met hers. “Only if you’re under me.”

His voice was husky with need, and she smiled, delighted to be causing that.

“Well…” She dragged her fingers across her stomach and up to her breast, cupping herself and thumbing her nipple. It felt good, but what truly excited her was the way he watched her every movement. “That could be exciting. Will they be done on the bed or the floor?”

“I’m sure your back would prefer the bed. But it’s your call.” He bent low, his eyes still locked with hers, as he slipped his tongue between her lower lips again, giving her a long, languid lick that revved her engine to full throttle with one simple motion. He brushed her clit, then moved farther south, sliding deeper into her, as if to make sure she was ready for his cock.

Hell yes, she was. “I don’t care. Just fuck me.”

“Gladly,” he growled, the vibrations of the word causing delicious sensations deep within her. “I’ve wanted to since the decon shower, you know. The first one.”

“I know. I saw your cock.”

“I thought I’d hidden it.”

“I peeked.”

He traced her inner folds with his tongue, exploring her one last time before shifting away from her.

She wanted to groan a protest, but knew he was only repositioning himself so he could take her, thrust himself into her. And she couldn’t wait.

“I would have let you,” she whispered.

“Take you in the shower?” Ariston shifted his weight, hands to either side of her, his muscles gleaming in the light, bunching and flexing as he held his body over hers. His cock rested against her thigh, though he had to be eager to bring it closer, to dive into her.

“Yeah.”

“The first time or the second?”

“Both.” She reached down and wrapped her hand around his cock, guiding him to her. “But this is better. You would have just been some hot guy then. Now you’re…” She licked her lips, rare emotion swelling in her chest as she gazed at him, at the man who’d shown her nothing but respect and acceptance and admiration from the beginning, even when he hadn’t known if he could trust her. “A lot.”

“You’re a lot too.” He flashed a quick grin and eased into her.

His thick shaft pressed into her passage, and she spread further, eager to take all of him. He was gentle, careful, but she could see him holding back, see him wanting to plunge in, deep and hard.

“I can take you.” She curled her fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “All of you.”

“Good,” he said, his lips against hers, and he sank into her, a groan of pleasure escaping his own lips.

She kissed him as they pulled apart and came together again, enjoying the exhilaration on his face, his clear desire to be here with her. He seemed to relish each thrust of his body, each touch of their lips. Somehow, he was tender and demanding at the same time, gentle but ravenous, diving into her while making sure he didn’t hurt her.

The desire that kindled within her again built into a raging flame. She gripped his shoulders as she rocked upward, meeting him with each thrust. Their kisses grew frenzied as their pace increased, and she relished the raw power of this man pouring himself into her.

He was why she’d come to the station to be judged, and he was why she would put her ship in storage to become a Star Guardian, so she could have adventures with him, be the partner he longed for. Be with him, period.

As he drove into her once more, it was her emotions as much as her body that brought her to the edge and took her over it. Once again, pleasure had its way with her, leaving her trembling, her grip slipping.

But she didn’t let go of him, for he was still thrusting into her, still hard inside of her. She rocked with him, his movements extending her orgasm, exhausting her body in the most delicious way.

She reached up and touched him on the face, wanting to let him know that he could take as long as he liked, but something in her eyes or her touch ignited his grenade. He held her gaze as he came inside of her, his sculptor’s body gleaming with sweat as he held himself above her in tableau, and then he shifted his weight to one hand and lifted the other. He touched it to her face in a gesture mirroring her own.

The gentleness in it and in his gaze almost brought tears to her eyes. She didn’t want to get weepy in front of him, so she wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him down.

“Come down here and stop showing off those arm muscles,” she whispered, hugging him close and resting her chin on his shoulder.

“I thought you liked it when I did that.”

“I do.” She kissed his neck, breathing in his masculine scent, and hooked a leg around his butt, wanting to keep him close for a while. Or a lifetime. “Henceforth, all love-making sessions will start with you doing push-ups, so you better keep yourself in shape.”

“Handstands too?”

“Absolutely. We’ll perfect your timing and dismount.”

“I’m willing, but I think it’s only fair if we take turns with that,” he murmured, kissing the side of her neck.

“I’ll have to do some practicing before I’m ready for a handstand.”

“You’re strong enough. I’ll be your spotter.”

“A better one than I was?” She nuzzled him, imagining his mouth on her as she stood naked on her hands.

“I won’t let you fall, but I’m sure we could both use some practice. Much practice. I’m getting excited just thinking about it.” He shifted up to his elbows so he could kiss her again.

It was a shame he’d paid for a fancy room with a view, since it soon grew clear that neither of them would be admiring the nebula that night.