Zampata: five crew members Sasha had sex with (and one she didn't)

3. Dean

Warning: rough sex. (Well, rougher than the previous two scenes, anyway.)

The kitchen was widely regarded as the most dangerous place on Zampata. At one time, it should have been the engine room, which had looked like a fireworks testing chamber until Bayley had spent several sleepless days repairing everything. The bridge had hosted some pretty monumental arguments, mostly between Seth and whoever was complaining about his driving. Sasha's chambers held enough pain-inducing implements that she could arm a small militia, if they didn't mind using flogs and paddles.

The kitchen, however, never lost its top spot. It was always perilous to be in the kitchen before Becky had her coffee, but Sasha had already seen her wandering the halls with a steaming cup, so she figured she was safe. She certainly didn't bargain on having a plate fly past her head as she entered, and she just managed to catch it before it hit the wall and shattered. "What the hell?"

Dean turned and muttered an apology, but it did nothing to budge his scowl. "Sorry. Didn't see you there, Sash."

"At least it wasn't a knife, I guess." Sasha glanced briefly at the plate before setting it in the dishwasher. "What's wrong?"

"Bored." Dean leaned back against the counter and gripped the edge, turning his knuckles white. "We've been flying for days on end now and there's nothing for me to do. Bayley can fix shit—and if she runs out of shit to fix, which is impossible on Zampata, she can just... break stuff and then fix it up better. Seth's the pilot, so he doesn't have a chance to get bored. And Roman's the captain, so he has to play dad and keep everyone in line. Becky and I are the only ones who have fuck-all to do when we're in flight."

"Oh really?" Sasha pointed to herself as she poured a cup of coffee. "Unless I have a client aboard, which I don't, I'm not much more than a distraction." She refused to think of herself as eye candy, but the truth was that she didn't have a technical job aboard Zampata. It was something she would like to change—she definitely wanted to contribute more, and not just with funds—but Roman had been in a bad mood lately so she hadn't tried broaching the subject.

Dean shook his head. "You talk to people and keep 'em calm and stuff. I can't do that."

"So throwing plates helps to fill the void?" Sasha asked gently, stepping closer. She had an idea of what was really wrong—and a way she could help—but she wanted to test the waters first. Glancing up at the lights, she figured out where the security camera was and tried to position herself accordingly.

"I know I could go work out," Dean snapped, "but it's not the same."

"You want something to break," Sasha replied, resting a hand on his shoulder. When she had his attention, she slid her fingers into his hair. Years of Valet training reminded her that she should ask permission before touching him, especially when he was in such a volatile state, but she knew Dean well enough to know this small gesture would be okay. It was what he would allow afterwards that was the question, and she knew just how to get her answer: by tightening her hand in his hair and twisting enough that his head had no choice but to move with the whim of her hand. "You want to be broken. You want to hurt."

Dean's gaze brightened almost instantly, sparking to life, and after a quick glance at the kitchen door, he nodded. "Something like that."

"It's been too long since you fought on the Circuit," Sasha continued, voice low and sweet—a stark contrast to the ruthless grip she had on his head. To the security camera, though, it would just look like Dean had leaned in to hear her better. "Why not ask Roman to spar? Or Becky?" She would offer to fight with him, but she knew he considered her too small and that he'd worry about hurting her. If she was right, though, she'd disabuse him of that soon enough. "Seth is out of the question, obviously, since we need him to fly Zampata...."