“Told you it’s just overuse.”

  Evie’s head snapped up. Gareth now sat up on the table, watching her with clear green eyes. Neither drooped, and they weren’t squinted against the light. “You’re not slurring anymore.”

  He shook his head. “Feeling better, actually. Don’t usually rebound this quickly after an overuse, even with drugs, but I’m feeling surprisingly good. Maybe I should ask if you’re okay.”

  When Evie didn’t answer, Lissa cleared her throat and plucked her medical bag from a counter. “I’m going down to the brig with Ranulf. Chief dealt a few broken bones that require care if we’re going to turn them over in any kind of humane condition.” She paused, lips flattened into a tight line. “Not that they deserve it. But for my own conscience, I’ll care for them.”

  The doors slid shut behind her, leaving the two of them alone.

  Of all the fears to plague Evie over the past ten years, losing her new identity terrorized her the most.

  Then she’d held Gareth’s limp body on her back, fearing every second she didn’t get him to medical was a second he lost brain cells, a second blood flooded from a ruptured vessel to swell his cranial cavity.

  She hated the hot tears pricking her eyes. Hated the weakness she never showed for anyone.

  “Evie?” Distrusting her voice to cooperate with her, Evie said nothing, even when Gareth lowered his feet from the table and stood. “Are you okay?”

  “I thought you were dying.” The words trembled in her throat, and again, she hated that she couldn’t control her emotions. Ten years, hell, even longer than that, she’d had perfect discipline over her emotions, reining them in as necessary while operating as an officer for the Royal Navy. She hadn’t cried after Omega, and she hadn’t cried during her sentencing when Scarot railroaded her.

  Now she couldn’t even keep a few stupid tears at bay.

  “Hey. Hey. No need for that, lass. I’m alive.” The moment those strong arms wrapped around her, the fucking floodgates opened and she didn’t have any hope of keeping them back. The only thing saving her dignity was that they were silent tears, wetting his throat when she buried her face against the warm hollow under his chin. “Head throbs a small bit, but it’s nothing I can’t manage. I’m just grateful I can look at you without it feeling like a chisel is tapping my skull.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I wouldn’t mind crawling into my rack for the moment and catching a thousand winks. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He kissed her brow. “Then I’ll see you when I wake up.”

  “You definitely will see me when you wake up, since you’ll be in my cabin.”

  His brows shot up. “Your cabin?”

  “Uh huh. Got a problem with that?”

  “No arguments from me.”

  Gareth slept most of the day and into the next morning, only rousing from her bed to use the loo and shower. Since Gryph tattled on him while she was on the bridge, she ran back to her stateroom, stripped down, and washed him while he leaned his brow against the cool metal shower stall.

  He passed out again until she shook him awake for a high-calorie supper with all the things a taxed psychic needed. Whether it was starvation or actual improvement in his health, he didn’t utter a word until he’d cleaned his plate and sopped every drop of gravy off it with the pile of nutrient-dense biscuits prepared for him.

  “All right.” Gareth set the tray on the table. “Catch me up on what I’ve missed. I feel like I’ve slept my entire life away.”

  “Only two days. While you were snoozing, we contacted the Bridewell. We’re set to rendezvous with them in twelve standard hours to hand over our prisoners.”

  “Get anything good out of Izik yet?”

  “Ranulf is a tough interrogator, but the guy clammed up like a plasteel trap. Won’t say a word.”

  “Damn. I could—”

  “No, absolutely not. You are going to let that mind of yours rest.”

  “Fine, Mum.” She smacked his shoulder, but he caught her by the wrist and tugged her into his lap. “Anything else?”

  “There’s not much else to tell. We’ll hand them over with their ship and carry on as planned.”

  “Which is?”

  “To—” Warm lips skimmed her ear, catching her off guard. Then he nibbled the edge, and she wasn’t exactly sure what she’d intended to say to him. There was a plan, she’d strategized as much with Ranulf before retiring to her stateroom for the night, but something about the way his lips traced a line down her neck and his wandering hand slid over her stomach, made rational thought impossible.

  He made short work of the lace fastenings to her trousers and dipped two fingers between the band and her skin. “Take these off and come back to bed with me.”

  Bed. That’s right. He needed to be in bed to rest.

  Reminded of his near-death experience—maybe that was exaggerating, since Lissa had made it clear his brain had merely been fatigued from the strenuous psionic use—Evie jerked and scooted forward to leave his lap. “Gareth, you should be recovering.”

  “Nothing wrong with my cock. It was my head that needed rest.”

  “Resting your body is required for resting your head.”

  “Are you telling me there’s nothing you want to do with this?” He circled his arm around her waist and dragged her firmly against his groin, her cheeks cradling the firming length of him. God, he was already at half mast and growing harder by the second.

  And if she’d learned anything during the days of their seclusion in her stateroom prior to reaching Tallulah, it was that her man was absolutely irresistible. Maybe it was the six-year sexual drought. Or maybe it was him, all Gareth, delicious body and intuitive fingers always prepared to deliver an intense orgasm. Even in the game, he’d always been able to coax the strongest climax out of her, and she’d wake up from the virtual reality fog to soaked panties.

  “C’mon, Evie.”

  “How are you even the least bit interested in sex after the mountain of food you consumed five minutes ago?”

  He squeezed her left breast and circled the nipple until it stiffened beneath his index finger. “You know me. Three-track mind.”

  “Food, sex, and sleep?”

  “Food, Evie, and sleep. I’ll take you however I can have you, love. I’ll survive if you’re not in the mood. But just having you here is…” He breathed her in, tightening his grip around her. “It’s enough. Just being with you after all this time of wondering what the fuck you’d be like and if I was making the mother of all mistakes. It’s enough just to be here with you.”

  His hand slipped down the front of her slacks and teased across her clit. She parted her legs wider, granting him complete access.

  “Look at how wet you are. Already, and I’ve barely even touched you.”

  “We both know you don’t need to touch me to affect my body, Gareth.”

  They moved from the couch to the bedroom, shedding her clothing along the way. He peeled her panties down her hips when they stood at the foot of her massive bed, kissing his way up her body again, hot cock nudged against her stomach.

  “You trust me?” he asked in a husky murmur, breath warm against her throat.

  “Of course I trust you. I’d be foolish not to trust you after everything you’ve done so far. Gareth, you… you put yourself in danger for me. Anything could have happened. They could have detected the implant. We could have lost them on the tracker. I…” Hated the idea of sending him into danger to clear her name, because a clean record wasn’t worth it without him in her life.

  Evie licked her lips. Her mouth was so dry, fucking parched from all the tears of relief she’d shed in the restroom where no one could see or hear her. It was when she returned to her stateroom that she’d finally let the floodgates open, realizing what he meant to her. What he was to her.

  She loved him. If it was possible to love a man she’d only known in person for a short, too brief while, then she definitely loved the hell out of Gareth Lockhart.

  Telling him that would be the true test.

  Three simple words should never be so difficult to utter, and yet they were.

  “Yes, I trust you. More than anything,” she repeated again, cupping his face between her hands.

  He kissed her, soft and sweet at first, lips barely moving until his tongue pressed against the seam of her mouth, encouraging her to open to him. She gave eagerly, parting them for the sensual stroke of his tongue against hers.

  When he leaned back and gazed at her, Evie was still in a daze, drunk off his kisses, high off the need for him throbbing in her core. “I want to show you something.”

  “Okay?” escaped her in a breathless exhale. “What did you—”

  Another Gareth stepped out from behind her lover, creating identical visions of the same fucking gorgeous man. She stared at him. At both of him.

  “What the fuck?”

  As far as she knew, Kaiden Lockhart was currently sitting at Command Intelligence Headquarters on Albion, surrounded by two dozen blinking monitors as he combed through cyberspace. Otherwise, she’d think they were both pulling one over on her. Besides, Kaiden was the larger guy, and he also wore his hair a little longer to disguise the scars on his scalp. But this was Gareth. She reached out and touched one, caressing his chest and the light covering of dark hair over his chiseled pectoral muscles. With the other hand, she stroked the second Gareth in the same place.

  Real and warm and alive.

  “How did you?”

  “My powers,” he murmured. “Something I wanted to try.”

  Her mouth fell open. “There’s no bloody way you’re doing this with psionics. I’d know about it. I’d feel it. I underwent years of training as an officer and as part of the special operatives program to resist psychic intrusion.”

  “You opened up to me. I felt it when you did… days ago when we made love for the first time. Something changed and your thoughts projected at me.” The Gareth on the right shot her a shy smile. The one on the left brushed her lower lip with his thumb.

  Which one was the real Gareth?

  “You’ve been able to hear my thoughts all this time?”

  “No. Not all this time. I didn’t want to take advantage of it, so I blocked it out after that. Until now.” He swallowed, throat working, convincing her the Gareth directly in front of her remained the real thing.

  “I can’t tell you apart from the illusion with my eyes. If I didn’t know better, if I didn’t know I was kissing you moments ago, I’d think the other guy was you.”

  “Good. That’s kind of the point. Am I weirding you out?”

  Evie stroked her hand down the other Gareth’s boxers and dragged his cock into the cool air. It throbbed in her hand, all heat and silken skin so real to the touch. She did the same with the one she’d come to think of as the real Gareth and jacked them both at once. “Fuck no.”

  The duplicate Gareth reacted as she’d expect, his eyes half-slit, a low groan rumbling from him. When she dipped and took the tip of him into her mouth, he pistoned his hips, and the authenticity—the taste of his precum, the heat of his skin, and the generous girth of him—struck her as so real she began to doubt whether she was blowing the phony. Letting his cock slide wetly from her mouth, she took the other between her lips instead. The sensations matched, and the sound she wrung from him set her blood aflame with desire.

  As she sank to her knees, she wondered if she was fondling the open air while her real man went neglected.

  “Does this do anything for you?”

  “Hm?”

  “Does this...” Evie slipped him in deep until the blunt tip of him reached her throat before she dragged him out again. She released him with a wet pop. “Does this do anything for you? How do I know which of you to touch?”

  At an apparent loss, the recipient of her teasing blowjob growled, tangling his fingers in her hair and thrusting into her mouth again. Unable to tell the real Gareth from his psychic double, she gave up caring and dedicated herself to the act of sucking him down, throwing herself into it like she would at any other time.

  The second Gareth slid down to the floor behind her. The way his cock slid through her slick folds felt every bit as real as their last lovemaking. He glided back and forth, gathering her natural wetness, and he claimed her on a single thrust that rocked her body forward.

  “Now you don’t have to worry,” he murmured against her ear. “Regardless of what you do, you know the real me is at least gettin’ fucked or sucked, aye?”

  He plunged into her on another long stroke. Strong fingers gripped her by the right hip, and his left hand teased between her thighs, stroking her clit. The angle carried his shaft deep, and heavy balls tapped against her ass when she leaned forward and took him to the back of her throat, where one squeeze and hungry swallow made his gorgeous body tighten with anticipation, from his rippling abs to his beautiful chest.

  “Close, aren’t you, lass? I can see it in your eyes.” He gathered her own wetness and slid his fingers against her clit, pinching it.

  Close? She was almost there, the orgasm tingling all the way to the bottom of her soles. Squirming with need, she let the long, pink length of him slide from her mouth and bounce into the open air, glistening.

  “Wonder how hard you’ll come once I have both cocks in you.”

  “Both?” she gasped.

  “Mm. I want this pussy to pulse out of control, Evie. I want it to clench so hard you see the bloody stars without looking through a viewport. Think you can do that?”

  “I’m already so clo—”

  He withdrew, depriving her of the imminent orgasm that was right there, so fucking close she could almost taste it. Her thighs trembled.

  Fuck, she didn’t know which of him to hit, since one was definitely a figment of her imagination.

  Both helped her stand and guided her to the bed, but only one sprawled on his back amidst her comforters and pillows, gripping his dick in one hand. The tip of it flushed dark, so tempting to have inside her. She pressed her thighs together in anticipation.

  “Want it, Evie?”

  She licked her lips. “More than ever.”

  “Come get it.”

  When she straddled the Gareth on the bed and he kissed her, she tasted herself on his tongue. Second Gareth moved into position behind her, and she tightened in anticipation, made needier by the skilled fingers playing up and down her slit. One guy kissed her shoulder blade, the other worshipped her mouth with tender strokes, their tongues gliding together in a sensual dance.

  Her lovers took her to the edge again and again, always withdrawing before she achieved satisfaction, changing positions and tirelessly lavishing her body with love. They teased until she clawed the sheets, until she whimpered his name and pleaded for release. When she climaxed with both cocks snugly pressed belly to belly within her walls, her synapses couldn’t even register all of the sensation buzzing through her body.

  They sprawled on their sides, one Gareth making love to her from the front, the other entering her from behind. Fingers circled her clit and a hot, warm mouth sucked her tightly beaded nipples. She blacked out from the bliss overload, and when she came to, she was half resting on Gareth’s reclining body. She peeked up into his smug face.

  He’d earned that arrogant look.

  So for once, Evie decided not to call him on it or bust his balls. “Can you do that again?”

  He smirked. “Can you?”

  “Fuck yes.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Evangeline lost track of how long she drowsed, too lazy to even ask Gryph for the current ship time. Gareth had pulled his new trick once more, though he’d gotten overzealous and tried to make three of himself, for her entertainment more than his own. Now the both of them recovered in her bed from having fallen into an overstimulated sex coma.

  A fist banged against the door.

  “Go away,” Evie yelled, “unless the ship is falling out of the sky.”

  “Sorry, Captain, you need to get out here and see this,” Morna called out.

  “This had better be good,” Evie muttered.

  Gareth looked at the door with a deep frown, his brow furrowed. “She’s tense. Whatever it is, she’s right about you needing to see it yourself.”

  His serious words made her gut clench. Dammit. All she wanted, for once, was to bask in the delicious afterglow without worrying about responsibilities. Just once.

  They dressed together after a quick clean-up and made their way to the bridge. No one was laughing, an unusual occurrence in itself. Her crew always had some joke they were cracking over. Instead, Ranulf had deep crevices furrowed across his brow and Jinx avoided looking at her altogether. Morna hovered near her terminal, chewing on her lower lip.

  “What is it? Are we holding onto our prisoners longer than intended?”

  “This came across the directory ten minutes ago,” Morna replied. She slid her finger over a panel and the monitor turned on. Gareth sucked in a sharp breath, but all the air left Evie’s lungs.

  Her face dominated the post, the picture taken from the Ame Station security checkpoint. The alert scrolling beneath it flushed her body with heat before a wave of ice trickled down her spine, chilling her to the core.

  “They’re blaming me for the attack on Ame. They’re—” Her gaze snapped to the name they had printed beside her picture. Her real name, followed by her alias. “They know who I am. How the fuck do they know who I am?”

  Side by side photographs of Genevieve Evans and Evangeline Abbott remained on the screen, an enormous hundred-thousand-credit reward offered for her capture.

  The bastards had entered her into the hunters’ directory, and soon, her own people would be out for her head. The fat bounty offered was more than enough to place greed above professional friendship.

  “There’s a bigger problem,” Jinx interrupted. “The HMS Bridewell just dropped out of hyperspace and they’re demanding our immediate surrender.”

  The news jarred her to action. With the Albatross attached to their stern, they didn’t have a prayer in hell of escaping the Bridewell. Even without the extra weight, they’d be pushing their hyperdrive core to its limit to keep ahead of a UNE ship.

 

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