Page 32 of The Captain's Bounty
He rolled onto his back, his useless arms sprawling as he concentrated on his breathing. Raising his head, he looked at his cock, pressing hard against the front of his pants. Dropping his head back on the floor, he shook it once and then sighed.
How many days left until they reached the Corporate base on Bicrade? And why did just thinking that make him feel uncomfortable?
Because there was a price to be paid for getting intimate with Product.
That knee-jerk thought made him feel even worse. She wasn’t Product. She was a bounty. She was a means to an end, and he needed that money. The Raider and every crewman aboard her needed it to survive.
He needed to keep his cock in his pants and his belt securely around his waist. No more letting himself get drawn in by her scent. No more letting himself get intoxicated by making her behave.
Just… no more.
It wasn’t fair to her, and he had a feeling it was going to end up being very uncomfortable for him.
Comfort’s overrated.
Stop thinking like this.
Muscles stiff, he pushed up off the floor. He needed a shower.
He needed to go back to his room, see if Lissa was still there and, assuming she didn’t need him to bust her delectable little ass again, he probably ought to take care of her. He checked the time. He’d lost hours in Reformation. Lissa was probably hungry again. He needed to bring her something to eat and drink, makesure she had everything she needed… from her place on his bed, maybe with a nice leash around her neck.
And here he thought his cock couldn’t possibly get any harder.
Fuck, he had to stop thinking like this.
His arms shook as he climbed off the floor. When he reached the kitchen, though, it wasn’t empty. He almost kept going, but stronger than his desire not to have to fence off questions, was that annoying need to take care of his Bounty.
Everyone was gathered around the same table, all of them hunched together—Cory, the Doc, Aldar, Kyiel and Vullum. They immediately stopped talking the moment he entered, which only made their hushed conversation of moments before that much more obvious.
“Why are we whispering?” he asked, pretending it didn’t bother him, but already his blood was tingling. Every nerve spiked, feeding that prickling at the back of his head, the one that insisted something was wrong.
“Bruwes!” Vullum announced in cheerful greeting.
“What is this?” he demanded this time.
“We were just reminiscing about old days,” Aldar said, drinking from his cup.
“What old days?”
“Product running,” Kyiel supplied. “How this kind of feels… you know… like Product running.”
“She’s not Product, she’s a bounty.”
“Yes, yes, we know.” Vullum waved him to sit down.
Reluctantly, Bruwes took another few steps towards the table, but stopped just shy of being close enough to join them. “So why the private meeting?”
“It’s not a private meeting,” Aldar scoffed. “We’re eating and talking.”
Kyiel leaned towards him, hands on the table, his gaze half curious and intent. “Be honest, though. Doesn’t it feel a little like that to you? Like it did during that last run. You know, with Cory. When everything went wrong?”
“Thanks a lot.” Cory flashed him a disgruntled look. “You kidnapped me, remember? Things should go wrong.”
“That’s enough.” Doc raised a hand and his mate resettled at once, scowling at Kyiel even as she leaned into Demin’s side.
The sight struck a different chord with Bruwes, one of yearning. Watching them together made him wish he were with Lissa.
He looked away. “There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing.”
