BooksBarbecue
Back Seven Devils
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1.
  4. 2.
  5. 3.
  6. 4.
  7. 5.
  8. 6.
  9. 7.
  10. 8.
  11. 9.
  12. 10.
  13. 11.
  14. 12.
  15. 13.
  16. 14.
  17. 15.
  18. 16.
  19. 17.
  20. 18.
  21. 19.
  22. 20.
  23. 21.
  24. 22.
  25. 23.
  26. 24.
  27. 25.
  28. 26.
  29. 27.
  30. 28.
  31. 29.
  32. 30.
  33. 31.
  34. 32.
  35. 33.
  36. 34.
  37. 35.
  38. 36.
  39. 37.
  40. 38.
  41. 39.
  42. 40.
  43. 41.
  44. 42.
  45. 43.
  46. 44.
  47. 45.
  48. 46.
  49. 47.
  50. 48.
  51. 49.
  52. 50.
  53. 51.
  54. 52.
  55. 53.
  56. 54.
  57. 55.
  58. 56.
  59. 57.
  60. EPILOGUE
  61. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  62. ABOUT THE AUTHORS

“Oh, Clo.” Rhea pressed her hand to Clo’s. “This is me giving you permission.”

Clo’s hands cupped Rhea’s face. Her skin was even smoother than she’d imagined, or remembered. Clo brushed her lips against Rhea’s cheek, so softly it barely touched. “Okay?” she breathed.

“Yes.” That word seemed to catch in Rhea’s throat.

Another soft kiss at the soft point where her throat met the square of her jaw, lingering slightly longer. “Okay?” This time Clo’s voice trembled. Gods, she wanted. She wanted. More than anything.

“Clo, I swear to the gods, if you don’t just kiss me already—”

Then Clo was kissing Rhea hard, and Rhea was kissing back. Her lips were petal-soft and parted so easily. Clo’s tongue slipped into her mouth—hesitant, then confident. They touched, their hands exploring each other. A soft gasp lodged in Rhea’s throat, then a sound of assent, a murmured yes, yes, yes that made Clo kiss her harder. She pressed Rhea’s body against the clear window, and it felt as if they were alone on that spaceship. Alone in the whole universe.

The stars streamed by as they moved through the galaxy, and Clo’s new favorite scent was lilies.

37.

CLO

Three years ago

“It’s colder than a snowman’s balls today,” Briggs grunted, rubbing his hands together. “Hand me my gloves, Clo Alesca.”

Briggs leaned forward, peering at the innards of the engine of Sher’s ship. He was still a mountain of a man, massive and burly, with jet black hair and equally dark eyes. But Briggs was all hard exterior and soft interior.

Sher rolled his eyes. His ship had come in last night. Sher needed it detailed from a close clip with a Tholosian warcraft. “Not that cold,” he said.

“Don’t pretend with me, boy. You might be a commander, but I’ve been on this fucking planet since you earned the title,” Briggs said.

Laughing, Clo handed Briggs his gloves. He leaned his hip against the craft, put them on. “Sher, you’ll have to tell Kyla Asteria ain’t spaceworthy for another few days. I’m tired and my own balls are gonna freeze off if I try to push this any faster. You’ll have to bunk with me and Clo.”

Clo shivered in her massive parka. She’d been sent to Briggs’s hangar in Jurran for pissing Kyla off, basically. So, she’d had a little trouble adjusting to the chain of command. So, one of her fellow recruits had bogged her off. So, she’d left him stranded for two days in the desert. He had water! It wasn’t her fault he was a complete marsh-for-brains. She figured Kyla’d give her a scolding, tell her to apologize and stop calling people by Snarl insults.