Page 34 of The Last Hunt
“I guess neither of us are perfect,” Aethon remarks, trying to sound nonchalant.
Maeve shakes her head, her lips curving up into a smile. “Definitely not.” She steps back and Aethon has to stop himself from grabbing her and crushing her body against his. From shoving his hands in that long hair and baring her neck for his mouth - from peeling off her clothes and burying his head between her thighs until she comes on his tongue. His cock stirs to life and he tightens the towel across his thighs.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Maeve says. “We have nine hours until we reach the jump point.” She gestures to the bed. “I don’t have a spare bed, but -” she pauses and Aethon feels like they’re on the edge of a knife. “ - we can share, right?” Maeve asks. “We’re both adults.”
“I can sleep on the floor if you want,” Aethon offers.
Maeve’s face shifts and she shrugs. “Whatever you want.” She turns and walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
Aethon sighs and rubs a hand over his face. He feels like he just fucked something up, but he has no idea how.
While Maeve showers, Aethon dresses quickly. He finds a pair of shorts and a t-shirt in the bag Maeve packed for him. Once he’s dressed, he stares at the nicely made bed. He really should sleep somewhere else. He turns and walks out of the room and over to the brig on the other side of the Archer. There’s a hard bench on the far side of the brig. He could make due with that. His body will hate him in the morning after everything it’s been through, but he doesn’t know if he can sleep beside Maeve. He’d probably spend the night staring at the ceiling with a hard-on he couldn't hide.
“Excuse me, Captain Trell?”
Aethon glances up at TAI’s voice. “Is something wrong?” he asks.
“Oh, just the fact that you’re in your pajamas glaring at the brig like it insulted your mother,” TAI replies.
Aethon chuckles. “I was staring that angrily?”
“It looked like smoke was about to come out of your ears,” TAI quips.
He grins. “You’re hilarious, TAI.”
“Why thank you!” TAI says. “Now, Captain Trell - might you be willing to do me a favor?”
“What would that be?”
“Please,” TAI says, her voice coaxing. “Go back in Maevey’s room.”
Aethon takes a step back out of the brig and tilts his head to the side, his gaze on the ceiling. What does TAI know? Has she been reading his vital signs like CAL? Does she know that his heart races when Maeve looks at him with that hard gaze of hers? “Have you been talking to CAL?” he asks.
“Of course I’ve been talking to darling CAL,” TAI replies. “But I’m no slouch myself. And I know Maevey.”
Aethon rubs a hand back through his almost dry hair. “What do you mean?”
“Just trust your girl TAI,” TAI says sweetly. “Go back to Maevey.”
Aethon’s stomach does a little flip. He’s never interacted with an AI who has the ability to hint at things before. To say something without actually saying it. CAL is much more blunt. “Are you saying she -” he starts. “- that she might want me in her room?”
“You care for her, right?” TAI says. “You care about my Maevey?”
Aethon exhales sharply. During the last four years, Aethon has watched Maeve work. He’s watched her at Two Roses while she ate in the mess, or the rare times she got a drink at the Green Bottle when he was there too. He noticed when she was out on a job, and when she came home exhausted but exhilarated, bounty in tow. He saw how she kept to herself. How she didn’t trust anyone. How everyone was scared of her. The imperious, infamous Maeve Bladesbearer. All of that is a part of Maeve. But Aethon had gotten to see a different side of her in that escape pod - and a few times over the years. The Maeve who is tender and funny - a woman who comforts a friend in need - who rescues a man who is her rival - who keeps an AI who calls her pet names.
“I care about her,” he says, his voice low. “I have for a long time.”
“Obviously,” TAI says. “Now get back in there and talk to her. Maeve needs more than the best AI in the galaxy as a friend - and I think you might just do the trick.”
Chapter 11
Tension
Maeve
Maeve stares at herself in the foggy little bathroom mirror. She towels her hair dry, and puts moisturizer on her face before pulling on shorts and a tank. She looks tired. She feels tired. She is tired. But she’s also horny as hell, and there’s a gorgeous man in her quarters. Or at least, she hopes he’s still in her quarters.
Maeve expects Aethon to have created a little pallet for himself on the floor as far away from her as possible during her shower. She had as good as invited him into her bed, and he’d rejected her. Why? Some kind of misplaced sense of chivalry? But she’d seen the way he’d looked at her. He wants her just as much as she wants him. His body has filled out even more in the last few years, and he’s added new details to those fascinating tattoos of his. Her hands itch to trace them.