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“Sure. I’ll let you know when we’re near home,” he said.

Cleo hesitated for a second, before sliding out of her seat and walking out of the cockpit.

Hunter let out a pained sigh. If only she didn’t have such a powerful effect on him, he’d get the hell out of here and look for another woman to satisfy his needs. There must be another female who’d please him the way Cleo had. She couldn’t be the only one who sent a fire raging through him and made his cock hard just thinking about her.

He’d always considered himself a contented bachelor. He enjoyed being with a woman, but had no desire to find a mate and settle down. Not like most of the other Apexians on board the Apocalypse. They’d fallen so hard one by one that it had surprised him.

Human and Apexian couplings happened, but they were rare, and seeing his crewmates pairing off made him wonder about a future with Cleo. A forever with her, not just a few orgasms and then the brush off.

It should have been an easy, uncomplicated thing with her, but the second he’d entered her wet, tight, intoxicating heat, a flare of longing had lit him up. He couldn’t forget her feminine musky taste, or the little pants of desire she made just before she climaxed on his cock, his tongue, and his fingers.

Hunter couldn’t return from that experience without being changed. And so far, he’d failed to convince her they’d work together. But he was damn sure he would.

Until he did, Hunter played the game, just like Cleo. He focused on the mission, locked down his feelings, and refused to let her image haunt him.

Most of the time, he was successful, but not always. And the failure rate was increasing daily.

Hunter sat back in his seat, focused on the ship’s controls, and dodged the images of Cleo, ensuring the next two hours passed in a blur of routine systems checks, keeping himself occupied so he wouldn’t get another hard-on he couldn’t satisfy.

He opened the ship’s internal comm to reach Cleo. She hadn’t come back once since she’d shut him down. He could have gone to check on her, but he’d learned it was better to give her space, or she turned her ice queen act up to maximum chill.

“Cleo, we’re five minutes from the Apocalypse. Is everything good back there?”

“Great. Can you give me a hand to get the whip fox ready to unload?”

“I’ll be right there.” As usual, she snapped her fingers, and he ran to her like a starving pup.

Hunter shook off his negativity with a shoulder shrug. Cleo didn’t behave like this because she was cold, she did it to protect the people she cared about. It was his problem he wanted her way more than he should.

He set the ship on autopilot. The Apocalypse would manoeuvre them safely on board, so he didn’t need to sit and nanny the controls.

Hunter headed along the corridor and into the room where they’d secured the injured whip fox. As he stepped inside, Cleo glanced up from the tablet she was studying, and a cautious smile crossed her face.

“How’s the whip fox doing?” he asked.

“He’s stable. This baby is a young male. He should be fine to move, so long as we’re careful.”

“It looks like he needs another shot of sedative.” Hunter approached the cage the whip fox was crouched in, his tail thrashing back and forth.

“He’s already weak, and too much could kill him. I want him checked over and operated on as soon as possible to save that leg.”

Cleo walked to the cage and knelt in front of it. The creature lunged, a blur of claws and teeth heading straight at her face.

Hunter grabbed Cleo around the waist and pulled her back. He pinned her against the wall as his hands roamed over her arms. “Did it bite you? Are you hurt?”

Her breath rasped out of her. “Only from the whiplash I got when you lifted me off my feet and slung me against the wall. What are you doing?”

Hunter couldn’t stop touching her. The image of those claws so near her delicate flesh fired rage through him. He had to make sure she was okay. If anything happened to Cleo...

“Hunter, calm down. He didn’t get me. I’m fine.” One hand clamped over his and she held it pressed against her upper arm. “No blood was drawn and my heart is still beating. Nothing got damaged. He couldn’t have gotten to me through those bars. The whip fox reacted out of fear because I moved too fast. That was my fault.”

Hunter stepped closer. Once the initial flare of panic faded, desire took over as he absorbed Cleo’s warmth and felt the press of her breasts against his chest. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, overloading his senses with her sweet smell. “I saw your fingers hovering by the cage door, and then those sharp teeth...”

“I shouldn’t have been so trusting,” she said on a sigh. “My skills are rustier than I realized. And this fuzz ball is clever, acting so submissive. He knows what’s going on, and he’s not happy about it.”

Hunter stroked a hand down one side of her face and felt her tremble at his touch. “We should stay on the Apocalypse and revel in the paperwork.”

“This is our job. And I know you had a good time when we were on the ground. You enjoyed being off the ship as much as I did.”