Page 36 of Radiant Exception
Lark’s hand moved to grab for my crotch, but I stopped her. Her brow furrowed in frustration at my refusal.
For a moment I thought I should have felt lucky that she was interested at all, and that maybe I should just take what I could get. She knew who I was and what I’d done and she didn’t seem to care; that wouldn’t be the case for most women.
“Let’s figure it out tomorrow,” I told her, releasing her hand and replacing mine at her hip, again, gently stroking her skin there, which seemed to soften her.
“Will you at least lie with me?” She pouted.
I eyed her cautiously.
“I won’t try anything.” She huffed.
If she knew how close I was to fucking that attitude right out of her, she might have pushed harder. She wasn’t prepared for the things I’d do to see her yield beneath me.
“Alright,” I reluctantly agreed, gently moving her to the side so I had room to stand up. I stepped away from the bed and motioned for her to get in, before pacing over to the panel where I stored my own clothes.
I could feel her gaze on me as I toed off my boots, then stepped out of the pant legs of my jumpsuit, before neatly placing them in the cabinet.
“The shirt too,” she called out to me.
I turned, eyebrow raised, to argue with her. But Lark’s gaze was so heated, I was already pulling it over my head before I realized what was happening.
She smiled in response, having gotten her way, yet again. “I like seeing all your tattoos,” she admitted.
I snorted in response, but the thought made me preen internally. Each one symbolized a person or a moment or a challenge. And each one had reminded me how alive I was as I’d dutifully watched the needle weave the ink into my skin. That she liked them meant more to me than she could know, despite the fact that she didn’t understand their significance.
Her eyes followed me as I padded over to the bathroom, making quick work of brushing my teeth and applying a fresh coat of deodorant to be safe, before slipping back into the bedroom, where Lark was waiting for me, in our bed.
I glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room. I knew I was the only person, in theory, who had access to the bedroom feeds, but that didn’t mean that Starlane didn’t have some backdoor, and clearly Meridian could get in wherever they wanted to.
I loathed the idea of anyone seeing our intimate moments. It was odd that it hadn’t mattered to me as much before now, but I wanted whatever was going on between us, behind closed doors, to stay that way. I considered covering the camera, but realized that if someone really was watching, it would only clue them in to me being aware of their presence. It wasn’t worth the risk.
“Stop stalling,” Lark purred, and her tone, once again, had me adjusting myself.
“You have to spoon me,” she demanded as I slipped into the bed next to her.
“Okay,” I chuckled, motioning for the cabin lights to turn off before pulling her warm body against mine.
She released a heavy sigh, her entire body relaxing upon her exhale.
And all I could think about was how right she felt in my arms, and how nice it was to be able to hold her and not have to worry about her waking up and yelling at me, like I had been concerned that morning. My, how much had changed in such a short time.
But holding her so close also made me realize that no matter what, I wasn’t going to let her go.
I couldn’t.
I’d find a way to keep her.
“Why don’t you like it when people use your first name?”
I tensed at the question. Nobody asked me about it. They knew better. I guessed the starshine had lowered enough of her inhibitions to remove a regular sense of decorum.
I took a steadying breath, trying to decide how much I wanted to reveal, if anything. “It’s my father’s name.”
“The background research I did on you said you were an orphan,” Lark stated plainly, still not realizing how thin the ice was that she was traversing.
“I was orphaned at ten.”
“Oh…”
