No Quarter (Bounty, Book One) (8 page)

Gar opened his mouth to protest, argue, defend himself, when Faolan held up his hand. “Don’t. Whatever you were about to say, just…don’t. I’ve just had two amazing orgasms in the past hour and a half. My brain is officially past due.”

Gar nodded. “Truce then.”

“Until my brain comes back to life? Yes.” Faolan struggled, but managed to push himself to his knees, only to crawl over to Gar. “You’re all messy again.”

“I’ve ruined this suit.”

Faolan pressed a chaste kiss to Gar’s cheek. “I like you messy.”

“How much longer will you be on my ship?” Gar scowled, but there was none of his regular venom behind it. He couldn’t be bothered to muster it up. It didn’t feel right in any regard.

“Let me clean you up.” Faolan’s breath somehow managed to be warm against Gar’s already hot skin.

He didn’t protest as Faolan made short work of the buttons of his shirt and the one that held his trousers closed. Faolan let out a low whistle when he dipped his hand into the small opening the angle afforded and swirled a finger through the cum in Gar’s pants.

“Yup, I definitely like you messy.”

Clothing was stripped away then, with the occasional press of skin against skin. Gar tried not to notice the way Faolan moved or how he remained in constant contact with Gar’s body as they washed his cum and sweat away and then wrapped a towel around each of their bodies.

Faolan swayed into Gar as they finally left the shower. “Bed. I need to close my eyes for a bit.”

“What makes you think you’ve earned it?”

Gar was only teasing, but Faolan stopped short. He turned to face the older man, only to be surprised by the look of open sincerity on his face. “Gar, just for a bit. I’m…I need to rest.”

There was something wrong. It wasn’t right for a man of Faolan’s strength to look utterly exhausted so suddenly. Nodding, Gar’s concern won over as he shifted to wrap an arm around Faolan’s waist. “I changed the sheets this morning.”

“I would never doubt they were dirty. Bit of an obsession with you, isn’t it? Being clean?”

“Shut up and lie down.”

They crawled onto the bed, one after the other, their bodies close but not touching.

“Listen, Gar—”

“Stop. Just…sleep. We have time to talk later.”

Gar watched as Faolan nodded and closed his eyes. Within minutes the captain’s breathing evened out and it was clear he was sleeping. Shifting only when he knew he wouldn’t wake the other man, Gar let out a shuddering breath. This was such a bad idea.

What the hell am I getting myself into?

Chapter Six

Faolan woke up feeling surprisingly well rested. That in itself was odd considering what he’d put his body through over the past few months. It was rare for him to be able to sleep through the night, even more so in a bed clearly not his. Rolling onto his side, he buried his nose into the soft fullness of the pillow and breathed in deep.

Gar.

His scent clung to the fabric, cocooning Faolan in warmth. He didn’t remember what had happened after falling into bed. A quick glance beneath the covers revealed his still-naked body, though any water had long since been absorbed into the bedding.

Where the hell was Gar?

Faolan lay still long enough to enjoy the warmth for a few more minutes before throwing the covers back with a groan and sliding none too gracefully from the bed. He really needed to get one of those onto the
Belle Kurve
. Mace would kick his ass for making such an extravagant purchase, especially since she would never be able to take advantage of it. Faolan preferred to avoid pissing off his first officer whenever possible.

Hands on his hips, he scanned the room, taking in all the details he’d missed in the heat of the moment. The accommodations were clean and simple. A bed, computer console, a closet that held several suits similar to what Gar had been wearing earlier—nothing that screamed of extravagance. The room itself was in the interior of the ship, depriving him of even a view of the passing stars. Walking around though, Faolan noticed the sheets on the bed were made with a natural fiber, not cheap synthetics. There was a personal datapad on the side table that contained several stories—fiction—and several had been marked as favorites. Gods, he was reading
Claxion Starburst
. Faolan didn’t think Gar was that radical.

Then there were pictures.

Lined carefully along the back of a shelf, three onyx frames held the memories of three separate groups of people. The first was a digital shot of an older man who looked to be in the middle of a heated conversation over a communicator. The image was most likely taken from a security camera and Faolan had to wonder why Gar would have something like this. The second photo was on actual physical paper, singed around the corners and pressed carefully behind glass. The smiling couple was in stark contrast to the poor condition of the material.
Parents, maybe?
He could definitely see a resemblance.

The last picture—another paper photograph—was very blurry, to the point where neither of the faces were clearly visible. A young boy and girl, no older than ten or eleven, holding hands. They seemed to be running through a market, though Faolan couldn’t tell if they were being chased or not.

It was an odd assortment of memories, their significance apparent only to Gar himself.

A wave of dizziness sent Faolan stumbling to the bed. He sat on the mattress with a muffled
whoosh
, pressing his hand to his forehead as he waited for the sensation to pass. The spells were coming on more frequently and lasting longer. If he didn’t get the medication soon, then things would go badly for him far faster than he’d anticipated.

The stone was the key to everything. It wasn’t tech, which made it a bit more challenging to convince people of its value, but once Jason slipped it on, Faolan knew he could name his price. The money it would get him would more than support his crew for the next year and still give him the credits he needed. He just needed to convince Gar to trust him long enough to pull off the deal.

Ignoring an unexpected wave of guilt, Faolan looked over to the chair propped against the wall and saw a neatly folded stack of clothing. He chuckled as he snatched the shirt from the top of the pile and pulled it over his head. The white fabric was soft against his skin, hugging his chest and sides. Clearly it belonged to Gar who was slighter in stature than he, but not by much. The pants were another matter. The material was too wide at the waist, sliding down to rest on his hips. Any running or twisting would send them falling to the floor. They couldn’t belong to Gar, he’d never be able to keep them up. The thick leather belt was a necessity rather than a fashionable adornment, easily sliding through the loops. All in all, not the best look on him, but with the whole begging and choosing predicament, Faolan figured it would be in poor taste to argue.

Ignoring his boots for the time being, he padded quietly out into the hallway in search of his host. Not surprising, the passageway to engineering was locked, preventing him from taking a look at the engines. Gar wasn’t stupid. The door across from the bedroom was also locked using both the DNA and security code to keep unwanted visitors out. He assumed it led to the cargo bay and cells.

As he approached the final set of doors, they slid open. The entrance was punctuated by a short blast of cool air. The room was so bright and clean it sparkled. A food preparation center from the look of it, one that Gar didn’t use very frequently based on its pristine condition. Either that or his cleanliness tendencies were in serious need of being readjusted. How could anyone live like this?

Life was meant to be messy.

Eating, fighting, fucking—all of it got you out of the stagnant atmosphere and into the reality of living. It was clear to Faolan that somewhere along the way, Gar had lost sight of the meaning of it all.

He needed to be reminded.

Checking the reading on the chronometer, he figured there was just enough time to make a quick meal before their next jump. Cooking was an indulgence he enjoyed and he took pride in being able to spoil others with the fruits of his skills. Gar could stand to use a good meal, despite being in amazing shape. He was too pale to be healthy.

Faolan wasn’t surprised to find the ship’s stores well stocked with space rations. And although the thin layer of dust on the containers did catch him off guard, it only served to reinforce Faolan’s earlier suspicions. Slamming and banging around, he threw together a blend of ingredients—one of which looked to be some sort of meat—and waited on the dish as it simmered over the heating element. He was so engrossed in his task, he failed to notice Gar’s arrival.

“What…in the Gods’ names…are you doing?”

Faolan looked up and grinned. “Cooking.”

Gar frowned. “Why?”

“I was hungry. Why else would I cook?”

“There is a perfectly good food replicator in the corner. This—” he waved his hand around in a wide, frantic circle. “This
mess
wasn’t necessary.”

Faolan snorted. “Of course it was. I can’t make a proper meal without getting a few pots dirty. Trust me when I say you’ll love it.”

Gar moved into the room slowly. Faolan tried not to stare at him or give any indication just how sexy the rolled-up shirtsleeves looked on the younger man. It also made Gar look relaxed in a way Faolan hadn’t seen before now. It suited him.

Stopping a few feet shy of the cooking element, Gar rose up on the balls of his toes and peered into the pot. “What is it?”

“Doesn’t have a name other than Faolan’s catchall. My crew loves it, so it can’t be too bad. Mind you, they only ever eat it when we are stuck dead in the middle of space, so it’s not like they have many options.”

“Poor them.”

“You have no idea. Still, might want to consider trying it before you flush it out the airlock.”

Holding up a spoon, Faolan waited to see if Gar would take the bait. The younger man scrunched up his nose but leaned forward and gave the contents a sniff.

“Spicy?”

“Can’t handle it, bounty hunter?”

Gar rolled his eyes before opening his mouth and snatching up the sample. Faolan chuckled when Gar’s eyes snapped open wide and returned to his stirring. “See, it’s worth it to try new things.”

“That’s good.”

“I’m aware. How long do we have until we hit the next dimension gate?”

Grabbing two plates, he didn’t give Gar the option of turning down a meal and filled them both. He shoved one into Gar’s hand and made a point of ignoring him as he proceeded to stuff his mouth with food.

“You’re going to choke if you don’t slow down.” Gar lifted a spoon and took a small bite. “The ship will be in position in twenty minutes. I just came to make sure you were okay.”

Faolan paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I thought you looked a little off earlier, is all.”

“Rested and ready to go, Stitt. Once I finish eating that is.” Faolan wasn’t about to share anything more with Gar.

The silence that fell over the room had none of the awkwardness Faolan normally experienced with people he’d slept with. It was also lacking the earlier tension of their first encounter. As they stood eating, he noticed Gar would occasionally glance at him, only to look away when Faolan tried to catch his eye. They played that game until the food was nearly gone and Faolan had enough of the back and forth. He stared at Gar until the other man was blushing.

“What?” Gar poked a reconstituted vegetable with his spoon.

“What,
what
? You look like you have something you want to ask me.”

“No. I don’t.”

Faolan let out a huff. “You’re pissing me off, Stitt.”

“It’s just when you fell asleep, you went down hard. I couldn’t move you.”

Faolan stiffened. He knew he had nightmares, but normally he was wrung out after having suffered through a bout of them and this morning he felt well-rested. He didn’t think it had to do with his lack of medication, which he wasn’t about to bring up. “Well, that’s not unusual for a sleeping man.”

Gar shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” He held up his now-empty plate and smiled. It wasn’t the kind of grin Faolan would have expected, but something far more sincere. “Thanks for this.”

“Least I can do. Consider it repayment for you not shooting my ass back on Tybal.”

“About that—”

“Don’t you dare. I set myself up to get caught. Just thought I’d have a chance to fuck someone before Jason sent you to collect me.”

Gar frowned, but nodded, keeping his eyes averted. “Better get back to the cockpit. Need to make that jump soon. You’ll want to brace yourself.”

“Think you’re going to leave me here to clean up the mess? I’ll be right behind you.”

Tossing the plates into the cleaning unit, the two men made their way to the front of the ship. Faolan felt himself relaxing for the first time in months, accompanying a man tasked with bringing him in if things went badly, no less. He couldn’t put his finger on it, what it was about Gar that let him take the edge off and be himself. Certainly not the young man’s reputation—he was no less a killer than Faolan.