In the tangle of bodies, I lost my grip on the butterfly knife, and panic scorched through me. Scrabbling along the floor, I glanced back to see Alexei still gripping the kitchen knife. He grabbed my ankle, pulling me back towards him. I slipped on the dirty surface as he raised the blade again, looming over me. Then gunshots filled the air and Alexei fell backwards, crashing back against the refrigerator.
Whimpering, I skittered across the floor away from the body, then beat at the hands that tried to help me up. “What the hell,” I screeched, jumping to my feet. Adrenaline coursed through my body and all I could do was pace, heart racing and body jittery. “Why does this always happen to me,” I demanded, unable to stand still.
Kolya reached down to the boy, checking for a pulse, but I already knew the big man wouldn’t find anything. I dug my hands into my hair, pulling at it in frustration. At that moment, I needed to get away, be anywhere but on that ship.
Then Lucas was in front of me, blocking any escape. “Hold still.”
I fought to get around him, and he grabbed my shoulders. “You’re bleeding, let me take a look.” His eyes narrowed when I still pushed him away. “Would you feel better if I slapped you?”
“Don’t you dare,” I said, glaring at him. The threat did manage calm me down enough for him to press a dishrag against the wound. I winced at the sting, and prayed the cloth was clean.
“I have a first aid kit in my bathroom. Kolya, take care of the body and figure out how Alexei got a bomb got onto this ship.”
I slapped away Lucas’ hands again, determined to walk by myself. Then the world tilted and I screeched again as he lifted me up in his arms. All I wanted was to be left alone, but he carried me kicking and screaming back to the room, dumping me on the bed before shutting the door. He rummaged through the bathroom, and then came out holding a big red box. “Hold still. I need to look at that.”
Still grumpy, I complied, flinching away with a hiss when the alcohol hit the wound. “My life was so boring before I met you and your brother,” I muttered, holding pressure to the cut as Lucas rummaged through the first aid kit. “Is this some cosmic payback for being the dullest girl on the planet?”
“Perhaps,” Lucas quipped, and at my dark look he laughed. “Go take a shower. I wouldn’t touch anything that’s been on those cafeteria floors, even you, without a thorough decontamination first.”
I agreed: the kitchen had been disgusting, and I doubted the floors were any better. Closing myself into the bathroom, I stripped out of my clothes, started the shower, and then examined my neck in the mirror. Lucas used enough tape so water wouldn’t get inside, but the area was tender. A faint red line trailed over one breast, leftovers from the knife wound. I shivered, partly from how close to death I’d come and the adrenaline leaving my body. Jumping into the shower, I let the warm water just flow over me for several minutes
The bathroom door squeaked open, and I heard Lucas enter. “Go away,” I snapped, but he only chuckled. I heard him take his clothes off too, then he pushed the curtain aside and stepped in the shower. To hide my nervousness, I turned away and started soaping my body.
“Finish with that, then hand me the soap.”
The commanding tone made my belly quiver, but I didn’t reply. Handing the thin bar back to him, I rinsed off quickly, trying to ignore the man behind me. Lucas kept his hands to himself, which was a relief, but I couldn’t face away from him forever. Finally I turned, closing my eyes to block out the view as I rinsed my back and hair. I heard Lucas make an appreciative noise and, despite the warmth of the water, my nipples pricked up in response.
“My turn,” he said, and when I opened my eyes he handed me a soapy rag.
I frowned at him. “I’m not your slave.” I gingerly took the washcloth despite my protest.
Lucas waggled his eyebrows at me. “Do you want to be?”
I rolled my eyes, trying for nonchalance, but it was difficult. Refusing to look down, I started scrubbing away around his neck and upper chest and was surprised by how much grime came away. “You’re filthy.”
“That’s what happens when you’re working on a boat engine all day long.”
Indeed, the little rag I held was woefully inadequate for the job at hand. I rinsed it off twice, adding soap each time, before finishing with the front of his torso. Having the job helped me not focus on the feel of his muscles beneath my hands, or how I was naked with a strange, beautiful man in a shower. There was something intimate about showering together, and I wasn’t sure my brain could handle more complications. I stopped scrubbing before his groin, but didn’t miss the stiff shaft poking out toward me. “Turn around.”
“Heh, bossy little slave.”
He obliged and I scrubbed at his neck and shoulders, working my way down. This side wasn’t nearly as bad, and as I reached his lower back I bit my lip in appreciation. He had a gorgeous backside, and my fingers itched to touch him, but I stepped back. “Okay, rinse off.”
We squeezed past one another in the narrow stall, my heart skittering as our flesh met and slid. He washed the soap off, giving me a full and unabashed view, and this time I couldn’t look away. Lucas was not as tall or muscular as his brother Jeremiah, but he was just as beautiful to watch in his own way. I came close to touching him a couple times, always snatching my hand back at the last minute. My heart was hammered and a dull ache throbbed between my thighs.
His eyes opened as he pulled his head out from under the stream of water and smirked when he saw me staring at him. “You going to wash your hair?”
“I, um.” At a loss for words, I looked for a shampoo bottle then froze as Lucas took a step toward me. He cupped my breasts, thumbing the nipples, and I shivered. I didn’t know what to expect with this man. He was alternately a gentleman and a rogue, but my body came alive at his touch.
He peered down at me, a lopsided smile on his face. “Once with you isn’t nearly enough,” he murmured, stroking my cheek. I couldn’t stop the needy sigh that came out of my mouth, and saw an answering spark in his eyes. My hands sought out his body, tracing the lines of muscles along his torso.
Lucas thrust the shower curtain aside. “Out,” he ordered, and followed me as we stepped onto the small rug beside the tub. He didn’t bother with towels. I was swept off my feet and taken to the bed, his long strides covering the distance quickly. We fell onto the bed, each of us seeking out the other’s mouth, hands moving across wet skin.