Page 15 of Stealing the Star Stone

Chapter Ten

Laurus Research Vessel

What’s a wo/man to do?

Day One.

Nova didn’t miss the blood on Eli’s blouse.

The sight of it didn’t bode well for what awaited her, although, she kind of hoped Orien had meant what he said, that he wouldn’t harm her.

She’d searched their room, hoping to find a communication device of some sort.

Nothing. Typical. Not even an entertainment system to be found, which meant hours of doing what alone in the room with the sexiest man in the galaxy?

She swallowed hard. The one deterrent was having to kiss herself. That felt wrong, like she was twelve and learning to make out with the use of her hand. No, she wanted manly lips on hers, even if ‘hers’ were currently the more masculine…

She stroked a thumb across his bottom lip, too plump and almost girly.

She’d caught glimpses of his magnificent body in the mirror but hadn’t lingered.

Having just held his cock as she learned how not to pee on the toilet seat, ogling his body would’ve been rude.

Note to self: don’t shake. Pee went everywhere.

No wonder women complained about the mess. Aiming that thing was a nightmare.

Swapping bodies had crossed way too many boundaries. How was this even possible? Part of her wanted to help the investigation, to discover the magic behind the stone. But if the blood stain was a measure of Orien’s competence, she didn’t have high hopes he’d be of any use.

Lethara? Mm, she’d never heard of it, and she’d studied many a galaxy map.

Orien had implied it was beyond Artivar.

Maybe near the Kegawa Belt? Every damn month, they stumbled on a ‘new’ comet, a dwarf star, some unknown metal.

Theories changed more than her underwear.

The universe was expanding, retracting, stemmed from a massive black hole, dying, birthing, and who knew what else; astrophysicists and their formulae.

“Ms. Blake didn’t answer. Do you think she’s pregnant?”

She lost a step at Frederik’s quiet question. Hell effing no way was she carrying a child. An impossibility when she hadn’t been with a man since Seth was murdered. “Why do you want to know?”

“I didn’t sign up for harming babies.”

She almost snorted. It wouldn’t surprise her if Orien had a contract that listed henchmen duties: looming, scowling, general intimidation, proficiency with blasters, then some of the nastier tasks like kidnapping, torturing, and killing.

But the mountain had a line drawn in his immoral ground: children, even unborn.

“What will you do if she is, Frederik?” She summoned Thorne’s signature smirk. “You’re not the type to stage a mutiny.”

“Just answer the damn question,” the man gritted out.

She shrugged. “How would I know if—”

“She’s your wife.”

Oh, that. Well, she couldn’t blame him for thinking ‘Thorne’ would know if his wife was pregnant when she’d been the one to announce their fake relationship. But if she told Frederik the truth, he wouldn’t help.

“This way, please, Mr. Thorne.” A young woman in a lab coat blushed and semi-curtseyed.

Nova blinked at her, not sure what she was seeing. Was this the type of treatment he received? No wonder he had a god complex. She’d quip about not being royalty, but Thorne would milk it. Damn idiot had to be a narcissist.

She flashed a smile. “My thanks,” she drawled, then for good measure, added a wink. The poor girl blushed to her hairline. “Where do you want me?” Nova strolled into the lab and eyed the counters. No bed was a good sign.

“Samples of blood, hair, and skin. Then a trip to be X-rayed.” A man with gray at his temples and a receding hairline offered a tight smile, but his focus shifted to Orien studying a selection of what looked like pottery shards.

“All right.” She thrust out an arm, but when no one approached, syringe in hand, she frowned.

“We’re just going to prick your fingertips.” Doukas, according to his badge, raised a pin. The girl trailed him, slides in hand. Another technician snipped a few strands of hair, plucking more with extreme gentleness.

“No healing, Lord Orien,” Doukas said, raising Nova’s hand to show the blood droplets on the tips of her fingers. “Should I make the incision along his forearm?”

“No need. Eli’s not to be harmed.” Orien waved at Frederik. “Escort our guest to the cargo hold.”

“That’s it?” Nova whispered to the mountain once they were alone and on their way to what had to be an X-ray machine.

“For now, I guess,” Frederik said.

“Any idea what Orien’s hoping the X-rays will reveal?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me.” He raised his chin in defiance. “Is Ms. Blake pregnant?”

She grinned. Nice try. “I can be patient. I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.”

He harumphed. “X-ray fluorescence and diffraction is usually what they use the machine for.”

She sighed. Not that she knew what either would determine. “No. Nova’s not pregnant. Yet.” Let the idiot stew over that.

What she did like was the route they were taking, passing what looked like a new shuttle— Viator IV emblazoned on its flank. She hoped she could fly it. With the speed at which tech was advancing, she’d need a few minutes to acquaint herself with the controls.

“That’s solid, right?” She pointed at the bay door. “What’s the odds of being sucked into space?”

He chuckled. “None, unless you hit the emergency override.” He nudged his chin at a massive red button to the right of the door. “You can’t do that and pilot the shuttle. How stupid do you think I am?” He arched a brow. “Pretending to be scared when you’ve done most of your own stunts? Pathetic.”

She shrugged. “Worth a try.”

She hadn’t heard that about Thorne. Said much about a man who could outrun, outride, and outjump anyone, that is if she could trust the footage in his movie trailers. She’d stopped ‘watching’ him after her gullible phase.

What followed were hours of shifting position, standing still, then moving again until they’d scanned everything. Baseline was all she could think was the reason behind this effort. It had been a day. No way would the stone have affected them in that short a time. If it did, at all.

“I could eat,” she said when Frederik escorted her back to the cabin.

“I will inform the kitchen. Any preferences?”

“No dairy,” she said, rubbing her bloated stomach. “A tea station and bottles of water would be appreciated.”

“Very well,” he said, waiting for her to enter.

Thorne sprawled on the floor, midway through a sit-up. He leaped to his feet. “How did it go?”

“Not too bad. Asked for food.” She sank onto the couch. “I could do with a cup of tea.”

“They cut you too?” He showed her his wound.

“Just pinpricks. ‘Eli’s not to be harmed,’” she mimicked in her worst impression of Orien. “Does yours hurt?”

“Not much, but get this. Orien thinks the star stone might have granted us magical powers.”

She laughed. “You’re shitting me.”

“Nope.”

“All right, why not?” She threw her legs onto the coffee table and misjudged, almost sending them over the other side. “You’re not pregnant, but I implied that could change at any moment.”

“Nice,” he cheered.

“Saw a shuttle we could steal…” She shifted on the spot and leaned back, sinking into the comfortable couch. “It’s the how I’m trying to figure out. If they X-ray you tomorrow, check the ship out. Really open to any ideas here.”

“Will do. I’ve been pacing, working up a sweat, trying to find a way out of this boredom.”

“If it wasn’t all manner of ew, I’d suggest we fuck.”

He stared at her. “It will kill time. Just a pity you’re not serious.”

“You may get a kick out of kissing yourself, Thorne, but I’m not interested in learning what the inside of my mouth tastes like from the outside.”

“I gathered that from the ‘ew’ part.” He sank onto the couch beside her. “I must admit, I’m curious about what it feels like as a woman to orgasm.”

She stiffened and faced him. “Hell no are you rubbing one out.”

“See. There you go telling me what not to do with your body. What can I do then?”

She pointed a finger at him. “Nothing sexual, whatsoever.”

“So no playing with your breasts?” He cupped one and ran his thumb over a nipple. His mouth parted on an ‘oh.’

She yanked his hand away. “No.”

He sighed. “You know, it doesn’t take much to arouse me.” He gripped her knee and slid his hand toward the groin.

A tingle started, sending a rush of heat along his cock.

She clambered over the back of the couch and glowered at him. “Stop that.”

“Spoilsport,” he said.

“My goal is to end this stupid adventure with myself still intact.” She huffed. “I’ve no idea what your intentions are.”

“Wouldn’t mind being normal.” He folded his arms across his chest then admired his cleavage.

“Honestly, you’d swear you’ve never been with a woman,” she snapped. “Quit it.”

“We should just do it; get it over with. That way I’ll lose the fascination.”

She scowled. “You’re a man with self-control.”

“True, but it would be sinfully delicious.”

She slapped his upper arm. “I don’t care if you think it will be heaven-sent. It’s a no.” She closed the buttons to under his chin. “There, temptation averted.”

Sliding her hands over his shoulders, she froze, realizing his gaze was fixed on her. Something sizzled along her nerves. Despite his eyes being hers, the intensity in the amber depths was all him.

The door slid open.

“Knock, y’know,” she yelled.

Frederik strolled in and directed a few catering staff to lay out a tea/coffee station, then pack a hidden fridge with bottles of water.

A glare at her made her removed her feet from the coffee table, onto which went a platter of sandwiches.

On the table by the windows was an array of long-lasting snacks for those midnight nibbles.

“Any chance Eli can call his manager? He’s got to prepare for the premiere, right?” Thorne arched a brow at her.

“Yeah, interviews and the like. Not to mention what to wear. Was thinking shirtless this year with maybe a tribal loincloth—” She gasped then glowered at Thorne, who’d pinched her without Frederik noticing.

“I will mention this to Lord Orien. He has invited you to dine with him this evening.”

She clenched her jaw, desperate to tell them all to go eff themselves.

“That would be…lovely,” Thorne said, giving her knee a squeeze when he’d pinched that spot just moments ago.

Unfortunately, his touch sent a frisson of heat lower. It stirred in her pants, and a throbbing ache preceded the forming of a bulge. She gaped at it then hastily threw her leg over the other to hide her crotch.

Frederik nodded and ushered the staff out, shutting the door behind him.

She scrambled to her feet and pointed at her semi-hard on. “What the fuck is this?”

Thorne giggled. “Oh, yeah, that happens.”

“How do I make it…stop?” She stroked it and it grew, pummeling her control with a crazy urge to kiss him.

“Think unpleasant thoughts and wait,” he said around a mouthful of cucumber sandwich.

She stomped her foot at that useless bit of instruction and headed to the tea station. A calming cup of Lady Grey would do wonders to ground her. As she poured the boiling water into a cup and let the dunked tea bag stew, she took a few moments to breathe in and out.

“I was looking forward to cheese.” He opened and shut sandwiches, checking their contents.

“I wasn’t.” She pressed a hand to her stomach, grateful the gastrointestinal explosion hadn’t reoccurred. With tea in hand, she sank onto the couch beside him, cradling her cup against her chest between satisfying sips.

He got to his feet, shoving the last bite into his mouth. “Need to pee.” He groaned. “Do I have to drip dry?”

Her brow furrowed. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Waiting for your bits to dry.”

She laughed, almost choking on her tea. “Wipe down, from clit to ass. Never the other way.”

Smiling, he disappeared into the bathroom.

When he emerged minutes later, she was halfway through a ham sandwich. “Tell me, do I shake or what? Piss goes everywh—”

“I gently squeeze from base to tip then dab the head dry with tissue paper.” He drank from a bottle of water before choosing another triangle. “Any leakage stains my pants and gets my image plastered across all digital outlets.”

That sucked. To live under so much scrutiny, she didn’t know how he coped. “Accidents happen.”

“Not in my world. I ‘piss’ my pants and it’s a full on discussion on my state of mind at the time or whether I was roaringly drunk.

” He grimaced. “Sometimes they’ll go even further, analyzing what medical conditions or drugs on the market could lead to incontinence.

” He bit into the chicken-mayo sandwich and settled back.

“I’ve had doctors reach out to me, offering their services. ”

“Shit, you can’t be serious?” She licked mustard off a thumb. “And you like living this way?”

“It comes with the job. Good and bad to all things in life.” He shrugged. “Graham earns his salary, I tell you.”

“I bet he does,” she grumbled. Asshole extraordinaire. That one comment had ruined her self-confidence for long after her ‘session’ with Eli.

“We have dinner sorted. What’s that, an hour or two of entertainment?”

“Should’ve asked Frederik for something to do.” She chose another ham and mustard. “I was more concerned about food and tea. I wouldn’t put it past Orien to starve us.” She waved her half-eaten sandwich at the bed. “Might just sleep the next two days away.”

“Yeah, that’s right. The premiere’s that soon.” He drank from his water and smacked his lips. “Maybe we can steal the shuttle then? It would mean sneaking away in the premiere’s chaos.”

“Doable,” she said, rising to make another cup of tea. “Gotta find the planet first. The shuttle’s fuel has to be able to reach it. Otherwise we’d need way bigger.”

“We could just stay with Orien, since he’s heading in that direction.” He thrust his hand forward like a ship taking off. “No need to go to all this effort.”

“True, but he might leave us on board while he searches for a stone.” She tossed the tea bag and returned to pick at the sandwiches, balancing the cup and saucer on an opened hand.

Thorne yawned. “Giving him all the control.”

“Yes. I want to find a stone and touch it, not be studied before, during, and after.”

“Then it’s agreed.” He rested his head on the back of the couch, barely reaching it. “ If we can locate this Leratha.”

“A big if,” she said.