Page 7 of Tempting Jupiter
“I told you he’s fine.”
“If he thinks I might die,” he said, “he’ll risk his life to get back to me.”
“So you’re both going to get yourselves killed.” She scowled and grabbed at the bottom of her shirt. “At least I’ll have the bunk to myself.” She tugged the long-sleeved shirt she’d worn over her head, revealing a tight-fighting undertunic that did little to obscure the size and shape of her breasts. Beaded nipples pressed against the material.
He hated the flare of need in his groin.
“Is this why they put us together?” he growled. “So the beautiful human female would distract me from any attempt to escape?”
She wrapped the thin material of the shirt around her hand and used it like a sponge to wipe away the blood staining his chest, stroking along his muscles with a touch that was as gentle as it was thorough. “I told you, they’re probably hoping you’ll kill me. They aren’t my biggest fans.” Her features softened and her lips tipped in a secretive smile. “You think I’m beautiful, huh?”
He scowled. “Spoiled human female. Don’t think I’ll pleasure you in payment for your aid.”
Amusement flashed through her features. “A bit full of yourself, aren’t you?” One last stroke across his abdomen and then she tossed the sodden shirt into the corner. “I think you’re getting ahead of things here, big guy. Even if I did want that, you’re in no shape to do anything about it. And before you feel the need to defend your prowess, let’s get you up on the bunk, out of this puddle.”
She reached for him as if he were no danger to her. He wanted to snarl and show his teeth, to startle her into a more respectful demeanor, but the blood loss had added invisible mass to his body, weighing him down as if his muscles had turned to damp clay and his bones to solid lead.
She guided his good arm over her shoulder and he worked his feet under him. He panted as he dragged one foot after the other.
“Wait.” Frustration roughened his demand as he used his one good arm to steady himself against the wall of their cage. “The blood soaked into my waistband. It itches and I want to be clean.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “You’re sure?” When he said nothing and instead stared steadily back at her, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders as if she would be the one making the treacherous journey to the cleansing unit.
“Okay.” She did an adequate job of aiding him, but the moment he arrived in front of the cleanser he realized the flaw in his plan. Did he instruct her to steady him while he tried to remove his training pants one-handed or ask her to peel the clingy material from his legs?
She huffed. “Just steady yourself. I’ll do it.”
He suppressed the urge to growl. He hated that he needed her help at all. It pricked his pride to allow her to handle such a personal task. At least his cock cooperated. Between the pains in his chest and shoulder and the strain of standing, there was little that could have raised his interest in that moment. She managed to strip off his pants with swift, efficient movements and started the cleanser without a word. She stood behind him and put a hand on his good shoulder to steady him. He almost growled but quickly realized she was pushing his trousers into his hand.
“Hold this under the spray. We don’t have any spare pants on hand.” Her voice broke like she couldn’t get enough air.
In the end, after he and his pants were dry, she got him back to the bunk and helped him get his pants back on. With the task complete, she reached for a blanket, laying on a corner of the bunk. She pushed it into his chest. “You need to stay covered, both for your health and my sanity.” Her cheeks were pink.
She strode back to the cleansing unit and triggered an army of soft-bodied cleaning bots that ghosted across the cell’s floor like living sponges, cleaning away the blood. As they disappeared back into the cleansing unit she returned and stood propped against the wall, eyes not quite meeting his.
Her scent had shifted. The idea that she might be fighting the same attraction that had made him so aggravated made it harder to think of her as the enemy. He shifted on the bunk to make a spot for her near his legs. She accepted the unspoken invitation and sat, tucking one leg beneath her as she turned to face him.
They sat in an awkward silence for a handful of seconds before she spoke again. “You know that numbness in your arm could just be a joint injury or a pinched nerve. Do you want me to take another look?”
He nodded his acceptance of her offer and watched as she scooted forward. Her eyebrows drew together as she tentatively pressed cool fingertips to his flesh. The barely-there touch slipped across the ball of his shoulder and became a firm flat stroke of her palm. Her fingers kneaded as she explored the heft of muscle, the stretch of sinew, and the unyielding structure of bone.
“Tell me if anything hurts.” She didn’t look up as she spoke, but her breath whispered across his skin.
Jupiter said nothing as she dug her fingers firmly into the muscle, searching for the joint. He could feel her touch even if he couldn’t move the limply-hanging arm. There was no discomfort… until there was. A sudden, sharp stab flashed bright white in his vision. He clenched his teeth and focused on his breathing. This was something he could understand, something more familiar—humans causing pain.
Chapter Four
TheSalleyHo
EarthAllianceBeta Sector
2210.146
Seneca pulled deep breaths in through his nose as his guards shoved him along the corridor. The unremarkable walls did nothing to help him make sense of his surroundings, but the smell told him there were no other Arena Dogs in this place. He’d awakened with restraints on his wrists and armed men urging him to his feet. Before that, the last thing he remembered was being dragged across the arena grounds. It wasn’t the first time he’d been treated like so much trash to be cleared out of the way, but he’d fully expected it to be the last. He’d heard the death verdict from the game-master after he and Jupiter had lost on the field of battle. The loss had not been unexpected. The verdict, though, that had come as a terrible shock. But that was past.
Here, there was cold metal beneath his flex boots instead of dusty, hard-packed soil. They moved forward between smooth, alloy walls not unlike the hallways that led to the arena medical facilities. The men surrounding him, weapons trained at his head, were not whip-masters. They didn’t even appear to be employees of Roma, the company that owned him. These men were not as well trained.
If he knew where he was, he wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of the many openings they gave him to break free. The restraints on his hands were sturdy as were the ones at his feet, but neither would stop him if he chose to fight. The weapons were the only real threat and he would be willing to take the chance to get back to Jupiter.
