::FOURTEEN::
“How long have you been awake?”
His voice is so deep, so quiet, that it would be inaudible, if his lips weren’t brushing against my neck when he said it. His nose still nuzzled behind my ear. A deep rumble, a vibration against my skin. If I were deaf, I would still be able to hear him. A voice that’s felt more than heard.
“About half an hour or so.”
“You’re not pissed.”
He’s not asking a question, not really. Staying perfectly still, even now, in case he startles me. Strange that such an obviously powerful man would be so cautious. A caution not driven by fear or wariness, but out of consideration. He’s used to scaring the hell out of people, and is making an effort to not scare me. Waking up curled against a man that wasn’t there when you went to bed should have me terrified, but it doesn’t.
“I was surprised to see you, but no, I’m not pissed. Thanks. I don’t often sleep.”
“You slept last night.”
She’s staying perfectly still. Not afraid. She had been terrified last night, when I curled up with her. Nightmares. Just the clean musky scent of her sweat now, no fear. I had thought she might bolt, the minute she woke up and realized she wasn’t alone. She hasn’t. Hardly moved at all in her sleep, except to pull herself closer to me, pulling my arm to her chest, fingers knotted up in mine. I doubt she would ever get so close to a person, if she was awake. Now that she’s here, and awake, she doesn’t want to move, knowing she’ll have to pull away.
Her breathing is deep and even, her eyes closed. I’m guessing she doesn’t get held often, either, and is enjoying every moment of this. I like holding her. Pleased me that I could put her at ease, with just a touch. That she didn’t ask me to, or need me to. But that she let me anyway, that she trusted me enough.
“As much as I’m enjoying this, Riddick, I’m going to have to get out of bed at some point.”
“No one else sleeps with you?” I could care less if I step on anybody’s toes. If a woman wants you, it’s because she wants you, and whoever else thinks they have a say in it is fooling themselves. But I still need to ask, to have her tell me. Maybe i just want her to know that I’m interested enough in her to ask. I have the feeling Jane would be discreet, and I’m not likely to find out by asking anybody else. Fuck, maybe I don’t have any business asking. Life’s too short to worry about it. So I ask.
I should probably get pissed off at that. If it was anybody else, I probably would have. He stayed still behind me, when I tensed slightly at the question, his nose pressed into my neck, while he waited to see if I would answer.
“No. No one else sleeps with me, Riddick.” He pulls me closer to him for a moment, his hand between my breasts, holding me tightly to his chest. Kissing my neck softly, just under my ear, his voice a whisper in my ear, before getting up.
“Good.”
—-
Down in the dark of the engine room. I used to come here, when I couldn’t sleep, when I didn’t want to sleep. Used to come down with a cup of coffee, just to listen to the engines. Loud enough that you didn’t have to worry about falling into a deep sleep, but quiet enough that you wouldn’t get a headache, either. That, and it’s always warm down here. I hate the cold.
Big Johnson. Doesn’t talk much, never has. It’s the engines he talks to, speaking a language no one else really understands. Said he missed me last night, as I pass him a cup of coffee, and something I liberated from the kitchen. He’s a bear of a man, massive, hairy, and filthy, from the oil down here. The coffee cup swallowed in his hand. Hard to say what colour the rest of him is, I’ve rarely seen him clean. Dark eyes and skin. A bandana always tied over his hair. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it. Leaning against the railing, while he watches me.
It’s a joke between us. My nightmares often end up with me down here. I don’t know sweet fuck all about engines. But, when I started coming down here, Johnson put me to work. Didn’t give a damn either, when someone told him once what he should or shouldn’t do. He said if I was going to be spending that much time down here, I could damned well do something while I was here. It’s gopher work mostly. Exactly what I needed, to take my mind off of whatever chased me down here in the first place.
“I slept last night Johnson.”
“Who’s the lucky soul?”
I grin at him, chucking the last of my breakfast at him, which he catches and devours in one bite. Grinning back at me, before finding something for me to do. I’m smaller than Big Johnson, obviously. So, anywhere he won’t fit, I get sent in, rather than him have to worry about taking something apart fully. I couldn’t tell you half of what he gets me to do down here, hell, a trained monkey could probably do it. Right now I’m lying under a massive piece of machinery, covered in grime, taking orders from Johnson, on the outside. It’s a good way to lose yourself, some days. Which is why I come down here.
—
I had kissed Jane, at her door, before going to have my leg dealt with. A deeper kiss, than the one last night. I knew she wouldn’t pull away from me, and definitely knew she wouldn’t be pissed at me for it. There’s a quiet heat in her, that she hides well. Definitely doesn’t get kissed often.
Caught Dufresne’s eye, watching us, as she left for another part of the ship. Jane says she sleeps alone, but Dufresne seems to think he has some sort of claim on her. I already knew I was going to have problems with him. That I kissed a woman he appears to have wanted, after coming out of her room in the morning, only makes that a sure bet. Just a matter of who makes the first move.
Get my leg tended to, find something to eat, and go look for her. Franks said she wandered, when she couldn’t sleep. When she didn’t want to sleep. I had thought she might end up with the Virago, “her girl”. Seemed as good a place as any to start. The scrawny kid sent me down to the engine room, told me to ask for Big Johnson, grinning at me, when I asked where I could find her.
I could hear her, swearing a blue streak, before I even saw her, underneath the engines. She can curse pretty well, for a woman. Then again, she IS a soldier. Didn’t really expect a clean mouth on her. Still makes me grin to hear it though.
Sit down beside her for a moment, just watching her, until her muttered curses stop. Her hand reaches down, fumbling for a tool she’s left out there in the hallway. I can’t resist. Slowly move it out of her reach, forcing her to reach further out. Grin, listening to her muttering again. Definitely got the mouth of a soldier on her.
Everything from her belly down is already out in the hallway, her grease streaked shirt pulled up just a little. Her belly pale and vulnerable underneath. She freezes, for a fraction of a second, when I run a fingertip down her belly.
She’s fast. Out from under that machinery, with her knife pulled out, crouched. Ready to fight. If I was anyone else she would have killed me easily. She’s beautiful, not in a way anyone else would appreciate, maybe, but to me, yea, she’s beautiful. Balanced on the balls of her feet , everything in her coiled, ready to slit me open. Breaking into a grin, her knife disappearing into the spot at her back, when she realizes it’s me. Her back popping, as she stands up.
I hadn’t really thought too much, about why I had wanted to find her. I had just wanted her. She’s slick with sweat, and engine oil. A smear of black grease across her cheek. Not pretty. Pretty’s never really done it for me. Pretty is weak, and timid. Pretty doesn’t last, doesn’t survive. She’s perfect. Beautiful.
I pull her towards me, before she can back off, or throw up a wall to keep me at a distance from her. Startled and off balance, vulnerable for just a fraction of a second. I’m not gentle this time, kissing her hard, my hand running through the grit in her hair.
Hold her still with my other arm, her first reaction to run, to struggle. It doesn’t last. She’s probably told herself for a long time now that it’s not what she wanted. Too many men without the courage to look at her that way, to look past the scars, to look past what’s been done to her. So she put it aside, but it’s still there. There’s so much heat in her, right under the surface. I felt it when I kissed her this morning.
Her soft muffled moan of need, her tongue sliding over mine. Her hands, braced against my chest in surprise, at first, slide around my neck, pulling us even closer together, if that were possible.
Break our kiss only to breathe, pulling back a little, to watch her. Relax my hold on her. If she wanted to, she could back up, easily. Walk away. She doesn’t. I let her kiss me back.
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