“And my mouth.” His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing soft kisses to her heated skin. “And what I could do to you if you’d just stop working for five minutes.”
She couldn’t deny it. Not when he was right… painfully, embarrassingly right. She’d been thinking exactly that, imagining his hands on her body, his mouth on her skin.
And now it was happening, and it was so much better than her imagination.
He tugged at her shirt. “Off.”
She sat up just enough to let him pull it over her head before falling back against the pillows. His eyes darkened as they swept over her, taking in the simple black bra she wore.
“Beautiful,” he murmured before bending to press a kiss to the center of her chest.
His mouth moved lower, trailing down her stomach, his hands following to unfasten her pants. She lifted her hips to help him slide them down her legs, leaving her in just her underwear.
He paused, looking up at her from his position between her thighs, his eyes asking a question.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.
His smile was slow and predatory. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
And then his mouth was on her again, kissing down her body with intent, and she forgot about everything that wasn’t the feel of his lips on her skin.
Raaze stood behind Cait’s chair, one hand braced on the headrest, and watched the orbital complex resolve from a distant glitter into something that made his throat close.
The Summer League stadium hung in high orbit above Nethlaar, a massive ring structure that dwarfed the cargo haulers and passenger liners clustering around the docking spires. Holographic banners stretched between the stadium support pylons, cycling through team colors and sponsor logos in patterns he knew by heart. Blue and silver for the K’Trav Daggers. Deep crimson for the X’Vian Dominion. Gold and black for?—
He looked away quickly.
“Fred, what’s our approach vector?” Cait’s voice was steady and professional.
“Docking control has assigned us berth seventeen-gamma in the civilian auxiliary ring. Estimated arrival in fourteen minutes.”
Raaze watched the stadium grow larger through the viewport, its curved walls reflecting the system’s sun in flashes. He could see the main arena now… the transparent dome that let spectators watch matches as stars wheeled overhead.
Memory slammed into him between one second and the next, blindsiding him. Air that carried that unmistakable stadium scent… the faint metallic tang from the energy barriers and the smell of fresh-cut turf from the pitch. His nostrils flared, and for a second, he couldn’t breathe.
This had been his domain. His kingdom. He had been king here, and the roar of a hundred thousand fans used to hit him right in the sternum as soon as he strutted out onto the field. He’d been more than a king… he’d been a god.
“There’s a lot of traffic,” Cait’s observation brought him back to the present. “More than I expected.”
“It’s the Summer League.” His voice came out rougher than he intended. “The biggest event of the season. Teams from forty-seven systems. Media coverage across the Empire and gambling revenue that could fund a war.”
She glanced back at him. “You okay?”
No, he was the opposite of okay. He stood in the cockpit of a battered cargo hauler, wearing clothes he’d bought at a frontier trading post, about to sneak into a venue that had defined his entire adult life using a human facial scrambler and a fake name.
“Fine,” he said.
The scrambler control sat in his pocket, a small disc that would project a subtle distortion field over his features. Cait had explained the technology… It didn’t give him a new face, just made his existing one harder to focus on, harder to remember. Low-tech human garbage, but security wouldn’t waste a scan on something this primitive, which made it perfect. League security scanned for biometric spoofing or holographic projections. They didn’t scan for a device that simply made people’s eyes slide past you.
“Docking control, this is KA-TSZ requesting final approach clearance.” Cait’s hands were steady on the controls as she rattled off their fake ID number. “Cargo manifest filed under reference seven-seven-delta.”
“KA-TSZ, you are cleared for approach. Follow the beacon to berth seventeen-gamma. Welcome to the Summer League.”
The stadium filled the viewport now. Through it he could see individual sections of seating through the dome, and the massive holo-projectors that would display replays and statistics. Hunkered under them, on either side of the multi-level automated pitch, were the team’s armories and locker rooms, along with the medical bays.
Cait guided the ship with the ease of long practice, and a second later he felt the clunk through the deck under his feet as the docking clamps engaged.
“We’re down,” Cait said, powering down the engines. She spun her chair to face him. “Registration opens in two hours. You ready?”
