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eimarraBodyguard of Lies is a serialized science-fiction novel updating once a week on Tuesdays. If you missed last week’s episode, Wake-Up Call, it can be found here. You can catch up on the entire serial on this page with a description of the story and links to all published episodes.
Bodyguard of Lies
Episode 29
We Have To Talk
Mick shifted on the bed and grabbed her hand. “I’m glad we’re not finished.” His voice was low. He stared at her hand. “I . . . I ran after you today because I was afraid for you. You were charging into the weapons room with nothing but yourself. I told you I didn’t want you doing that again.”
She sat next to him, her leg touching his, but didn’t try to meet his eyes. “I didn’t think long enough to be scared. I have a job; I needed to do it. Then that guy held the gun in my face.”
Mick reached up with his other hand and tipped her face toward him. He kissed her, a gentle brush, barely even felt, so different from the hard kiss when they’d been on the ship. When he pulled back, she inhaled shakily and leaned her head against his.
“And you were there,” she whispered.
“I’m glad I was.” He pushed back the hair from her face and kissed a line along her cheekbone.
She turned to meet his lips with her own, and he tugged her down to lie next to him on the bed. His hand ran over her side, pulling her close. She snuggled in against him.
The kiss deepened, and Sabra pulled away. She still wanted answers. “We have to discuss Trace.”
He kissed her jaw, then the side of her neck. Her spine tingled, and she barely repressed a shiver. “Why?” he murmured. “I’m here with you.”
“Because I’m a jealous bitch, and she’s the one you went to when we were fighting.”
His lips stopped moving, which Sabra regretted for a moment. They felt good.
“I told you, she’s part of my team.”
She held her breath for a moment. If they kept coming back to this point, she might as well give up. “I get that. There are people you have to protect, just because.” She thought about Gareth. Her brother definitely fell into that category. “But when it comes down to it, I don’t want my lover to choose another woman over me.”
“Your what?” He sounded amused.
“Oh, you had a different idea about where this is going?” She ran her fingernails up his back.
Mick pulled her tight against him. “We’re exactly where I hoped this was going — my bed. But you have too many clothes on.”
“You’re not exactly down to skin yourself,” she said. “And you changed the subject.”
He leaned in to kiss her again, and his hand drifted up to cup her breast. “I like this subject better,” he said. “Less controversial.”
She shoved against his shoulder and rolled over on top of him. “Does the door lock? I wouldn’t want to be interrupted again.”
He nodded, and she stood to lock the door. While her back was turned, she popped the front of her shirt open. That should distract him a bit.
His voice came from behind her. “Look, whatever’s between you and Trace is between the two of you. She hasn’t been in my room.”
“No? That wasn’t the impression I got the other night from Ian and Owen.” She still faced the door.
He sighed. “Couldn’t you tell? The entire room isn’t clouded with her perfume.”
“My nose was broken one time too many in the ring; the nerves were severed. Can’t smell a thing.”
“In this city? Lucky you.”
Sabra turned back to him, and a frown touched his face. She knelt on the bed next to him and said, “Something wrong?”
He reached to her chest, above her cleavage. She winced at his touch. She really ought to get a bodysuit that went to her throat.
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “I’ll heal. We were fighting.”
“We shouldn’t have been.” Mick sat up, shaking his head. He reached forward and started fastening her shirt closed. “Look, I just about tried to take your head off. I think we need to sort some things out before we do something we might . . . ”
Sabra cocked her head. “Are you going to regret this?”
The tips of his ears went red, and he looked down at the bed covers. “I don’t want you to. We’ve got a lot we need to discuss, and having sex isn’t going to make it any easier.”
“Does it have to make it harder?” Sabra tried not to sound too plaintive.
“I wonder. But that I can think of, we need to talk about Trace, Gareth, and our fight.” He held up his hand and ticked the subjects off on his fingers. “Because the only thing I would regret about having sex with you is the thought that I don’t get to keep doing it.”
“Whatever happened to guys who don’t want a commitment?” she muttered. She didn’t want to talk about her brother. Her relationship with him was too convoluted. Even if Mick would try to understand, she still wasn’t sure she entirely did.
“There are a few in the other room, if that’s what you’re interested in.” He didn’t look at her; his face was completely still.
She’d walked away from one person she loved, go on with life as just friends, and it hadn’t been easy, even if Charly never even hinted at reproach. Mick could be a chance to get it right. She sighed.
“Not this time.” She laced her fingers through his and sat next to him.
He squeezed her fingers. “So what order should we talk about them in?”
She’d already tried to talk about Trace twice, and Mick kept dismissing her concerns. That left Gareth and the fight. Neither one of them struck her as a promising subject. “You didn’t pull any punches in our match.”
It seemed an innocuous enough statement. He responded by teasing her. “Oh, so the matches are fake.”
She tugged him over and kissed him. “They’re as real as this.”
He deepened the kiss but then broke off abruptly. “You do go to my head.”
“You weren’t thinking like that when we were down in Green.”
“Mostly, I just let my jealousy get away from me.” He met her eyes. “I really need to know what’s between you and Gareth.”
And they were back where she didn’t want to be. But she’d stayed in his room; she knew he wanted to talk about Gareth, and she had stayed. She had to tell him the truth.
No one else needed to know, though. She pulled a scrambler from her vest and slapped it on the wall behind her. It wasn’t legal, but she didn’t let that worry her. She waited until the light turned green then started speaking, letting the words rush out before she could change her mind.
“Gareth’s my brother. We fought, a long time ago, because he wanted me to go merc with him. We were a good team, but I don’t like the kill.”
“I noticed.”
Sabra nodded and continued. “He couldn’t forgive me for walking away. Then in his first solo mission, he wound up fighting against a friend of our family, someone we went way back with. Gareth swears he didn’t kill him, but he shouldn’t have been there.”
The room was silent. The bug-me-not had no tell-tale hum, and neither one of them was ready to say anything. Finally, Sabra said, “I still won’t kill if I can avoid it. Even if I hadn’t known him, I couldn’t have just watched you kill him at the farm. Though I think he might have preferred it.”
“Probably. It can’t be easy to face his girlfriend’s death.”
She looked at him; he sounded as though he knew exactly how Gareth felt. There was naked fear in his eyes. Fear of loss, fear of seeing her die. She leaned into him.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s probably what she thought, too.”
She kissed him, kissed his lips, kissed the lashes that were so fair, kissed his cheeks and jaw and came back to his lips, which pushed against hers, soft and full and insistent. He nudged her gently down onto the bed and followed, kissing and touching and stroking.
Sabra arched against him, then pulled away and traced her hand down his chest. She paused, fingertips just brushing against him. “Enough talk?” He pushed himself against her with a groan, and she unzipped his pants. They were only going to get in the way.
Click here to continue reading with Episode 30, Battle Plans.
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Originally published at Erin M. Hartshorn. You can comment here or there.
