Tempted by Celestial Bodies

Chapter 2

chapter two

forced proximity

Back in my quarters, I quickly plaited my pink-tipped, platinum-blonde hair before undressing. Instantly, the cold drilled into my joints and an ache built in my temples. I rushed through the routine of applying an anti-atmosphere aerosol spray blended for the different levels, specific components, and toxins present on planet KR-732. The concoction countered any burning, blistering, itching, and eroding effects that might linger in the air. Chances were slim of running into a pocket of original atmosphere, but better safe than sorry.

Less than five minutes later I was thoroughly covered with the protective spray and clothed in my UFIS issued, spandex-like suit with its ridiculously impractical, decorative gold buttons. Despite the thin material, the uniform was designed to absorb and reflect body heat back into the skin as well as provide some protection from physical damage. A laser blast would burn a hole straight through, but claws, teeth, and regular blades would have a difficult time.

On my way out of the room, I reached for a cannister of company-issued repellent spray. After a brief pause, I also grabbed my weapon belt off the hook next to the door and settled it around my waist. The comfortable weight of the twin holsters for my precious plasma-edged daggers rested against my hips and outer thighs. The weapons were more than I would take on routine system check, but less than what I would bring into a raid. This outage didn’t fit the typical raider attack pattern, but there was always a first time for everything. No reason to be reckless.

A rectangular panel mounted on the wall outside of my quarters remained dark until I pressed my palm against the opaque glass. Green light flared, outlining my hand. The locking mechanism thunked . As much as I liked my fellow crew, I didn’t trust a bitch not to rifle through my shit. They’d steal my snack cakes, smuggled wine, and smut books that got me through these long, celibate months in a hot nanosecond.

I pressed a thumb to the center of the screen, and two more locks clicked into place, these on the top and bottom to prevent door removal. This wasn’t my first terraforming rodeo. I knew all the tricks.

Geared up and dressed, I hurried to the dining hub. The closer I drew, my nerves came alive, turning my insides jiggly. The upcoming job and forced proximity with Thrash would be difficult. The Phase Four clean up team was due in less than a week. Until today, I thought I’d skate to the end of this job without the risk of temptation, but outside the habitat, there would be no escape from being near Thrash. Even with his pheromone blockers, I wanted to rip off his clothes. Any other day I could retreat to my quarters and get myself off on fantasies of holding onto those horns while I rode him. Or the one where?—

Facing my direction, with his long, muscular legs stretched in front of him, Thrash looked up as I entered the room. Those delicious lips curled up at the corner, like he’d seen into my thoughts.

Oh shit, did he have that ability? My steps faltered. I covered the misstep by rearranging my holster belt. We locked eyes, and I shot him a scowl while I thought hard about shearing off the tip of his horns with my plasma dagger.

His expression remained the same. He didn’t twitch.

My chest loosened and shoulders relaxed. I should have known. Telepaths were exceptionally rare. They wouldn’t be wasted on a terraforming team. Though this was arguably the most vital part of the ETP, it was also the most dangerous, with the highest casualty rate. Another reason it was time for me to clock out for good.

“Come on, we need to get the crawler loaded and get to the cave.” I brushed past Thrash’s legs and headed for the hangar.