Page 62 of In a Dangerous Orbit
No, he had to woo her. Gently. Sneak through the defense array and insinuate himself so deeply she couldn’t get him out.
He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “You sound surprised.”
“I usually just eat a nutribar or take a nutrient pill.”
He shuddered and pulled her over to the stove. “They might be packed with everything we need to survive, but they taste like cardboard. I promise, you’ll love the taste of my scrambled eggs.”
He gripped her waist and lifted her onto the marble bench. She rearranged the robe, but it still left a lot of leg bare for him to admire.
“I see you found the robe I left for you.”
“Yes.” She fingered the silk. “Do you have a lot of these lying around for…lady friends?”
Her voice was even, composed, but even after such a short time, he was learning to read his CenSec. He nudged her thighs apart and tugged her closer. Her body was stiff.
He tipped her chin up. “I have a goods printer. I wanted something you’d enjoy feeling on your skin. And I wanted it to match your eyes.”
She softened against him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. “It feels decadent. So soft.” She rubbed her nose against his. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He reached around to the bowl and nabbed a bright-red berry. He held it to her lips. “Here.”
Her neat white teeth bit into the flesh. He watched her eyelids flutter.
He smiled. He loved watching her reactions. Her enjoyment of simple pleasure. “Good?”
She licked her lips. “Very good. What are they?”
Blood rushed south and he smothered a groan. “Zhoma-berries. A delicacy from the planet Souk. They taste so good I grow some hydroponically.”
“More,” she said.
Feeding her the berries, watching her reaction, listening to her tiny sounds of pleasure, made his blood thicken.
“Hmm, so good.” She licked the berry juice off his fingers. “I think if you wanted to bribe me, zhoma-berries would do it.”
He just stood there, staring at her red-stained lips.
She smiled. “I think your eggs are burning.”
“Shit.” He pulled away and saved the eggs from fiery destruction. As he slid them out of the pan and onto plates, he felt her watching him.
“You’re pretty domesticated. I envisioned the Prime having a house full of staff or at least some syndroids. I never pictured you cooking.”
“I have a syndroid for cleaning and a few people who come in twice a week. But I like to cook when I have time. My mother is a food engineer. She specializes in cloned food for starship travel, but she also believes in cooking. She taught me.”
“I’ve never seen Xander cook.”
A small pain throbbed in Axton’s chest. “Xander left for Centax Security very young.” Axton had missed his brother growing up, but they’d come a long way to forging a strong relationship as adults. “Did anyone teach you to cook?”
She raised an eyebrow. “They trained me to kill, fight, and strategize.”
And how to smother her emotions. Axton sometimes worried what his planet had lost in their drive to be stronger, faster, and smarter.
“Time for you to taste my eggs.”
They ate where they were, Axton standing, nestled between her legs. She enjoyed all the tastes and he enjoyed watching her.
She took a sip of her drink. “I want to taste something else.”
