“A hot bath would be better,” Thrace pointed out. “I noticed you have a small bubble tub in there. You should submerge yourself in hot water—it would bring up your core temperature.” Not that it would help that much if she was still having after effects from the passion berries as he suspected. But it couldn’t hurt…
Trin shook her head.
“That sounds great but I’m too tired for a bath right now. Just a quick shower is fine. Um…” She cleared her throat and her eyes flickered down to the towel around his waist. “The storage locker in the corner has extra blankets and pillows and a few items of male clothing left by the mistress who used to own this ship. I think she had a slave that was about your size. Maybe you could find something to fit you.”
“I’ll look,” Thrace said, nodding. He was heartily sick of wearing the tight black leather pants the slavers had forced him into but the flimsy towel he was holding around his waist was hardly a viable alternative. He fervently hoped he might find something both more comfortable and more practical in the storage locker.
“Good.” Trin nodded at him briefly. “Okay, then I’m taking a shower. Good night.”
“Good night…Mistress.” The title still seemed strange to him, especially when he’d sworn to himself never to call her that. But it fit her somehow and Thrace found that the more he said it, the easier it came.
Shaking his head at the strangeness of it, he went to the storage locker she’d indicated and started to look for something new to wear.
Chapter Thirteen
Trin turned over on her side and rolled herself into a ball, pulling her knees in tight to her body. Goddess of Judgment, she was cold! And no matter what she did, she just kept getting colder. She’s already put two extra thermal blankets on and she was wearing thermal socks too. She wished she had some thermal sleepwear but the thin, silky sleep dresses which had so bothered Thrace when she wore them around him were the only nighttime garments she possessed.
Speaking of Thrace, he had apparently found himself a pair of sleep trousers to wear in the old clothes left by The Alacrity’s last owner. He had taken a pillow and a single thin blanket and was lying quietly on the floor at the foot of her bed.
Trin had been relieved to see that he was wearing more than the tiny, thin towel he’d been holding around his waist when he came out of the shower. She’d been seeing him shirtless for days now and she’d even handled his “equipment” when he was chained down and needed help to relieve himself. But back then she’d been thinking of him as just a big, not-too-bright animal.
Now she saw his intelligence and admired his bravery and sense of humor. She was, she realized, beginning to know him as a person and that changed the way she felt about him. Seeing him naked or almost naked made her feel…strange. And the idea of letting him see her in a similar state of undress was also uncomfortable. She’d been glad the room was dark when she came into the sleeping area, her thin robe belted tightly around her to keep from revealing anything. And also glad that his bare, muscular chest was mostly covered by the thin blanket.
Not that she cared for the male form, she told herself. But when he’d come out of the shower and she saw him standing there so tall and massive with the wide planes of his bare chest and broad shoulders beaded with water, her stomach had done a funny little flip. Only because he’s aesthetically pleasing to the eye, she told herself uneasily, remembering it now. With those sculpted abs and his long, muscular legs he’s a damn near perfect specimen. Lady Malroth is certain to be impressed.
But no matter how much she tried to tell herself she was only admiring him in a purely artistic sense, it couldn’t be denied that her stomach had never done that funny little flip when she saw a naked female. Her lack of reaction to others of her sex had led her to believe that she might be mostly asexual. Indeed, though she enjoyed playing with her clitoral stimulator, she never fantasized about other women or anyone else as she did so. She simply enjoyed the pleasurable sensations of the buzzing little vibrator until she reached a gentle orgasm and drifted off to sleep.
So why did she feel so strange when she watched Thrace move around in that tiny, thin towel? Trin had no answer. But the memory of his big, muscular body, nearly naked and beaded with water certainly did something for her. Maybe it was because he was so big or so different from her. He was hard where she was soft and his voice was so deep…it was strange but just the thought of him lying there at the foot of her bed was almost enough to warm her up. Almost.
Trin shivered again.
“Goddess, I’m so cold. What’s wrong with me?” she muttered, burrowing deeper into the covers.
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with you,” a deep, familiar voice murmured from the darkness.
“What?” Trin sat up, shivering. “Thrace? I thought you were asleep.”
“Nah. I’m just lying here listening to you thrash around trying to get warm. But you’re never going to manage it.”
“What? Why not?” Trin demanded. “And how do you know, anyway?”
“I know because I know about passion berries—they’re native to my home world. You’ve still got some of the residue from that sip of wine you took in your system. The cold you’re feeling is an aftereffect and it’ll probably last for a few hours, if not the rest of the night.”
“The rest of the night?” Trin felt a surge of despair. She needed to sleep so she could wake up fresh and start preparing for the ordeal ahead of her on Yonnie Six. She had no time for lying in bed sleepless and besides, she felt like a block of ice. The cold wasn’t just uncomfortable—it was downright painful. “What can I do about it?” she demanded, pulling the thermal blanket closer—not that it did any good. “Since you know so much about passion berries.”
“Nothing,” he said flatly. “There’s nothing you can do.”
“Well, then what—?”
“But there’s something you can let me do.”
“What do you mean?” Trin felt uneasy.
“You can let me hold you. The passion berry compound demands physical contact to counteract its symptoms. That’s how I was able to warm you up before—by holding you.”
Trin vaguely remembered waking up and finding herself held in the big Havoc’s lap. He’d put her down pretty quickly, however—before she could start feeling too awkward. But now he was asking to get into bed with her and hold her in his arms. It seemed dangerous somehow, and not just because she was worried about having to use the pain collar to keep him in line.
He was silent for a long moment as she thought about it. Did she want to do this? Did she dare? Did she dare to let him climb in her bed and press his big, muscular body against hers? His big, muscular, warm body, whispered a practical little voice in her head. That’s the operative word, Trin. It may be awkward but at least it’s warm.
But what if he tries something? Like the things he was talking about while you had him chained to the cot? a voice in her brain demanded. What are you supposed to do then?
The thought gave her pause. As intriguing as she was beginning to find Thrace and the male form in general, she still had absolutely no wish to be penetrated by a male. Ever.
“If you’re worried, I’ll try something, don’t.” His voice was calm and matter-of-fact in the darkness. “I told you I don’t take females against their will and besides, you’ve got the remote.”
Trin cleared her throat.
“Of course I’m not worried about that,” she lied. “It’s just…I only have on one of my night dresses—the kind you said bothered you so much. I just thought—”
“That I wouldn’t be able to control myself if I felt your body pressed to mine with only a thin little scrap of fabric between us?” He gave a rumbling laugh. “Don’t worry, Mistress, I know my place. And we males aren’t nearly as animalistic as you’ve been led to believe. I can reign myself in.”