Page 10 of Tempting Jupiter
Seneca strained to keep his voice calm as the medic sealed his wounds. “Your leader might be angry now, but when his temper cools, he’ll remember Jupiter is far more valuable alive than dead. If Fitzhew is like the arena masters, he’ll blame you for his poor judgment.”
The medic snorted and bunched his lips in a pouty grimace. “Captain knows what he’s doing. Sometimes crew morale is more important than profit.”
“The dead men?” Seneca had smelled them when they’d brought him into the room.
“If you know about them, you can understand why your pal’s in the brig.”
The bodies weren’t in plain sight, but they weren’t far. Maybe in an adjacent room. “I don’t know what happened, but I know Jupiter does not attack without cause, not even humans.”
The medic snorted again as he finished his work and stepped back. “Just doing their job. Had families, plans, the same as the rest of the crew.”
Seneca watched him cross the room and reach into a cabinet. He had to get to Jupiter. Jup meant more to him than his own life.
He tensed, preparing to break out of the ridiculously weak bonds, when a strange noise stilled him. The noise had been there for some time, blending in with other mechanical and electrical noise, but it had changed. The rhythmic pulse had transformed into something more like speech. His ears pricked as he focused on the sound far outside the audible range of the human in the room.
“Jupiter’s okay.” The tiny almost-voice repeated the message as the medic loaded a small vial into an injection gun.
The voice agitated Seneca’s nervous system like the buzzing of an insect in his ear. He shook his head to rid himself of the sensation. He needed to act, if he meant to take the man by surprise.
“I took care of him, like you asked.” The voice refused to go away. “He’s safe for now, I promise.”
Could it be the woman from the cell? A transmission, perhaps? Did he believe her? He had no reason to believe her.
But he did.
A prick against his arm startled him. He’d gotten so distracted, he’d lost track of the medic. Lethargy crept through his muscles and his mind dulled.
“Don’t be afraid. It was only a sedative.” The tiny voice probably meant to reassure him. He rarely feared for his own life, but being drugged and unaware—that still terrified him.
“It’s okay,” the voice assured. “If you’re anything like Jupiter, that won’t keep you down long. We’ll talk later.”
The voice had moved closer. Seneca struggled against lead-lined eyelids as his vision softened. Sound dulled. Sensation drained away. He tried to ask about Jupiter, but the muscles of his throat refused to obey. After that, he thought the voice promised to watch over him, but it seemed to emanate from a silvery-winged being that hovered over him as he slipped into unconsciousness.
***
Feeona watched Seneca through Bug’s mechanical eyes. The sensors told her that his heart beat slow but strong. She backed Bug away. More and more of this second Arena Dog came into focus until she had a clear view of the entire tempting package. In his own way, as tempting as the man pressed against her body.
There was no bulkiness to Seneca, but even as he slept, she could see definition on every muscle-covered inch of him. Jupiter would want to know his friend’s condition, but she didn’t have to ogle him to find out. Her scan told her that his injuries had been treated, ribs recently mended. That was good.
Bug’s low-power warning flashed across her virtual vision, reminding her of the other pressing matters that needed her attention. She guided Bug to a terminal in a corner of the room, maneuvering the remote into a nearby hiding spot. Bug needed to be close for a near field hack and power siphon to work. With Bug out of sight, she got to work on updating her schedule.
Chapter Six
TheSalleyHo
EarthAllianceBeta Sector
2210.147
Jupiter deepened his breathing and kept his eyes closed. His lungs filled with the warm, mysterious scent of the woman pressed against him.
At least he knew where he was—sort of. In a metal bunk, in a spaceship that was likely taking him back to Roma Rex. That was as specific as he could be. He didn’t know how far they were from Roma or what other worlds might be close. He’d rarely concerned himself with the universe beyond the domed city where he’d been engineered to fight and die in the arena—to be born and die a slave.
His past experience with human women hadn’t prepared him for how good the tickle of this female’s breath would feel against his bare skin. Her arm pressed lightly against his chest, positioned precisely between the two wounds she’d treated. No human woman he’d met previously would have inconvenienced themselves for a Dog. Feeona’s legs were tangled with his, her bent knee resting just inches below his cock. If he wrapped his hand around her thigh, he could pull that leg up and thrust against her. Would she turn into him? Rub against him? Would she turn submissive like many of the females of his kind? Or would she use him for her own release and leave him aching as the human women at the Lady’s Wall so often did?
There were no chains here. No drugs to prevent his orgasm. No guards standing over them with stun sticks. He could take what he wanted from her. She wouldn’t be able to stop him. He could take away her choice as the patrons had done to him with their drugs and grasping hands and cold hearts. The memory stirred the coals of his anger.
Adrenaline surged through him. His heart pumped blood through his arteries. His senses expanded until the scent of the woman filled his nose and the sound of her breathing filled his ears. The beat of her heart pulsed against him, everywhere their bodies pressed together.
