Star Wars: On the Job

Chapter 15: Right

The snow fell outside, forming little drifts on the muntins in the viewport where the eddying wind brought it into the landing bay. But Hera and Kanan didn't see it. They were busy elsewhere.

Kanan's hands traced down her bare arms. She trembled as his callouses scratched lightly over her skin, but she wasn't cold. The room was warm enough that neither one of them had shivered as they took off their clothes. It helped that Kanan had turned up the heat when he'd gotten back onto the Ghost and that Hera'd turned it up even more on her way out of the fresher. It was the first time Hera had been in Kanan's cabin since she'd shown it to him three months ago. But Kanan had seen her in here many times before in the blinks that separated wakefulness from sleep.

Hera peeled off her heavy head-wrap. Slowly freeing it from her lekku, it snaked its way down the tails and fell on top of the rest of her clothes piled in the corner. She was back down to skin-tight black thermal underwear. Unlike when she had been shivering in the fresher, Kanan allowed himself to take in the sight of her now. From head to toe she was perfection. The white tattoos in her lekku glowed against the soft green of her skin. Narrow shoulders gave way to lean muscles in her arms. But most enticing of all was her face. Her eyes were dark and sensual and her mouth was pulled up in a subtle smile that told him he was in for something unexpected. And Kanan Jarrus liked the sound of that.

* * *

Hera's heart was pounding against her ribcage so hard she was sure that Kanan would see it fluttering in the soft play of light and shadows. His long hair hung loose above his shoulders and shadowed his face in the warm light. With tentative fingers she touched his bare skin. Her fingertips glided over the broad planes and sharp curves. The fine curls of hair that accented his chest and stomach were softer than she's expected. His own fingertips trailed behind her shoulders and drifted to the small of her back, making her quiver. Like her, he was stripped down to his underthings, simple gray boxer-briefs as utilitarian as her own thermal sports bra and underwear. The fabric didn't provide much more than a symbolic barrier between them, but she was glad it was there. She didn't want to rush into this. Not with him. Not after they'd waited so long.

Kanan took a half-step closer. When their bare skin met, Hera's heart redoubled its pace. The warmth of his body magnetic. She pressed her palms into the muscles surrounding the valley of his spine and Kanan tightened his arms around her until there was no air between them but what they shared.

They had kissed before, but this was different because it held no hesitation. Their lips moved in slow, unhurried arcs. The taste of him filled her mouth. The smell of him filled her lungs: warmth and metal, but with something else, something she liked. Her lips curled up at the edges. He smelled like engine grease.

Kanan must have felt her smile because he joined her, breaking off the caress. They stood with their foreheads pressed together, smiling without reserve. After a few excited breaths she pushed onto her toes and he hunched down slightly to accommodate the trail of kisses that led up his jaw-line to his ear. Kanan gave a throaty sigh when she took his earlobe between her lips.

At that moment, something mischievous came over Hera. It was the same deep consciousness that had taken her by surprise when she'd straddled Kanan in the co-pilot's chair, but this time it was speaking its wordless language more eloquently. Hera let the consuming desire flood up inside of her as an irrepressible sigh escaped her chest.

She released Kanan's ear and sauntered to his bunk. As she crawled onto it, she cast him a teasing smile over her shoulder, one lek falling across her back. Kanan ducked underneath with a boyish smirk, careful of his head. His mouth was on her hip in another instant. His thumb hooked under the waistband of her underwear. As the moist tingle of his lips traveled up her body, Hera rose onto her knees, partially crouched under the overhead bunk. Kanan didn't break stride, but continued in an unbroken line over her ribs, between her breasts and up the length of her throat. One hand lingered at the edge of her bra as if debating whether to pull it down or up, but he did neither because that's when Hera pinned him.