“I thought you said this would never happen again.”
The stern edge to those words made Stella’s fists clench. She blew upwards, trying to get the strands of her long brown hair out of her face but they stuck to her sweaty skin. Above her, the display panel glowed blue, lighting the tunnel she was laying in and adding to the heat. The diagnostics on the panel read just fine, but the Achelon class fighter ship was dead in space.
“I swear, this isn’t my damn fault,” she snapped, tired from the temperature of the access tube and the frustration of not being able to fix the fault.
Stella swore at the panel and then hit it with her posidriver. She was about to hit it again for good measure when Acer grabbed her ankle and yanked her out of the tunnel, dragging her along on her back.
She was ready to fly at him until he came into view.
Acer was as handsome as ever, his aquamarine eyes sparkling with mischief or amusement. Did he think that this was funny? She would have asked him had it not been for the fact that he had undone his tight blue and black flight suit, tying the arms around his waist and leaving him topless. He stood over her, glorious against the dark backdrop of the engineering room’s pipe and vent laden metal ceiling, and she couldn’t form any words to express her anger. Not when he was looking at her with eyes that were beginning to show a flicker of passion.
He looked delicious, and she remembered how they had got together all those months ago in exactly this sort of situation. It was happening all over again. They had dropped the crew off two days ago on much needed shore leave and were en route to Lyra Prime. Just them. Just her and Acer on the whole ship. Only this time the climate control wasn’t broken. Not that it had stopped Acer from getting half-naked, and not that she was complaining about that. He had the body of a god and she never tired of looking at it. There wasn’t a man as handsome and perfect as him in all of the galaxy.
“What’s the matter, Princess, Snrikik got your tongue?” Acer grinned at her.
Stella refused to blush at the smile he was flashing or the pet term for her. He wanted her to blush. He was challenging her.
Instead, she got to her feet, brushed down the backside of her tight flight suit, and fanned herself with her hand. When she had his attention, she made a fuss of unzipping her flight suit down to just beyond her breasts, exposing part of her low-cut white vest, and tugging the sides open to let in some cool air.
Acer was gawping like a Gavaelian carp when she snuck a glance at him. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who could get the other flustered. His jaw tensed and he reached for her, passionate intent written all over his face, but Stella sidestepped out of his reach.
“Captain, I have work to do here,” she said and turned around to go back into the access tunnel.
Acer grabbed her from behind and pulled her against him. The feel of his hard body against her back made her eyes close but she snapped them open again, refusing to play into his hands. He cupped her breasts, a reminder that she was already in his hands.
