Page 85 of Star Champion

He walked up to her from behind, slipping his hands under her T-shirt to discover, much to his delight, that she wore nothing underneath. “The Earth-dwellers on Bezos Station—did you know there was such a place? I didn’t—almost didn’t let me in today because of my prior convictions. They demanded an explanation, which I gave them. Apparently, I topped their list of individuals who aren’t allowed to enter. Now, unfortunately, everyone knows I’m the bad prince.” He smoothed his hands over her clean, hot skin and bare breasts, savoring the exquisite, unequaled feel of her—and the way her body responded to his touch.

“Bad prince, I like the sound of that,” she breathed, arching into his caresses. “How bad?”

“You know the details already. I told you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Ah.” He chuckled as his hands moved under her T-shirt on their exploratory mission. “I am a very bad prince, then.”

She moaned. Then bit back the sound.

“This is going to be a challenge,” he said in a quiet, passion-roughened voice. “The proximity to the rest of your family.”

“You’re not the type to let a challenge frighten you away, are ya?”

He pulled off her T-shirt. He loved her breasts; he loved everything about her body. He ached to be inside her. The week apart had seemed an eternity. She turned and kissed him hungrily, until her body molded to his and she sighed into his mouth. With his thumbs inserted between her hot skin and the waistband of her pants, he popped the fastener there, tugging her pants down over her rounded bottom. He slowly lowered himself to his knees, kissing his way down her flat, toned stomach. He moved her thighs apart to lavish attention on her pliant, wet folds, while she held on to his head for balance. By now, he knew what pleased her. Her hands convulsed around his skull as he brought her higher, and higher. Then she stiffened, coming up on her toes. “Shush,” he warned as she shattered for him. He groaned quietly himself as she pulsed and bucked. With one last shuddering sigh, she sagged against him.

“Holy craggin’ dome. I hope Ma didn’t hear me,” she whispered.

“I’m sure she did not. However, she might have felt the tremors and thought it was quake.”

She pushed at him playfully, and he muffled her giggle with a hand. She snatched his hand away, pulling him with her down to the bed, where they kissed and caressed with pent-up need, all while he stripped her of every last stitch of clothing.

“Wait here,” he said, at last, and stood.

“I ain’t going anywhere, I assure ya.” Nude, she stretched out on her back on the narrow bed and watched him strip off his clothing. Her parted thighs offered a glimpse of wetness between them that tempted him to the limits of his restraint. If only they were in the big bed on Chéyasenn, and he could take her rough and hard, plunging inside her until she cried out in pleasure and he lost himself in her.

But it was always good with Jemm, no matter what they did, hard and quick or sweet and slow. He could not believe he had gone all his adult male life not knowing lovemaking could be like this. He had assumed himself an expert on such things, but he had been woefully mistaken.

He joined her in the bed, straddling her, his knees almost off the edges of the mattress. He kissed her, knowing she tasted herself on his lips. He was throbbing so hard by the time he pushed inside her that he nearly exploded then and there.

The lovemaking was unexpectedly erotic, having to be so silent, so restrained. They made it a game. She moaned, and his fingers moved over her lips to quiet her, and she suckled them, nipping him. Then it was his turn to groan. “Shush,” she said, teasing him. He withdrew almost all the way, only to sink deep inside her, an exquisite invasion, just so he could hear her soft cry.

He missed this. He missed her. The way she felt, the way she sounded, her taste, her scent, every blasted thing about her. They laughed, panted, swore, and loved as they rocked together. When they peaked, she muffled her cries against his shoulder, and he hissed in a sharp, swift, indrawn breath.

Sometime after that, he curled up with her on the narrow bed, across from a window permanently scoured by centuries of bad air, in an ancient building at the edge of a slum.

With the woman who had won his heart.

Tomorrow loomed, and with it all that could possibly go wrong, but for those next few hours, nothing else mattered.

CHAPTER26

The next dayit all began. They launched tryouts for the club teams as well as instructional lessons, doing so days before they had planned. Every day lost would be one less for Jemm to participate in the pro season. They could afford to waste no time getting their plans underway.

They wanted a wave of proof crashing across the Federation that bajha was for anyone with the aptitude for it, and would no longer be a game reserved for only the highborn. They wanted that wave to sweep from the outer reaches of the Frontier to the wealthy homeworlds of theVash Nadahand everywhere in between.

Nico split his times between his clubs, doing an admirable job of keeping the chaos to a minimum. That night Klark volunteered to compete in the ring at Under Duress as Jemm held sway at Ore’s Head. The tryouts had netted a few promising hopefuls. Using his pro gear, he sent his challengers to their defeat, but sought them out afterward to offer pointers. It was an investment in the future of the sport.

Galactic media took the story of what was happening on Barésh and ran with it. Not only in Eireyan-loyal affiliates, or sports news sources, but all of them. If the league had expected Klark and Jemm to go quietly into the night, they had erred badly.

Sure enough, by the end of the second day, the scandal broke in a wide and very public release. As they predicted, their actions on Barésh had pulled the league from its cowardly stance of silence like an angler lured a fanged sea-eel from its reef den. The Galactic League announced that a female had infiltrated the lofty ranks of professional bajha, and that this denigration of the sport must not be tolerated. Then, in private, via a comm-call to Klark, they came back hard, threatening fines and penalties, and also expulsion for most of the players on Team Eireya, all spiked with the additional threat of barring him from further activities in the sport if he persisted in defying the decision.

Defying. He rather liked the word.

He shared the details of the call with Uncle Yul, traded updates, and pressed on. He recalled how he used to run scared when his clan was threatened, lashing out in panic, but he greeted each turn of events with a deep sense of rightness and calm.

One outcome that brought immense relief was the reaction of the fans. TheVash Nadahelders might keep a conservative grip on galactic-level bajha, insisting on tradition over common sense, but most of the Federation citizens who made up the viewing audience were commoners. They cared little about who played for their teams, as long as they won. Klark intended to capitalize on that sentiment.

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