Kit peeked around a corner. All clear. He was close to the locker rooms and aching to get under the stream of hot water until he felt clean and normal again.

Okay, go for it. He stepped into the corridor. He’d put on the cap that went with the uniform, hoping the peak would help hide his face when he passed security cameras or any people.

Like this guy. Shit. He wore the uniform of the ship’s crew. He’d come around the corner at the opposite end of the corridor, and he was heading straight for Kit. Looking for Kit?

Kit came up on a side corridor to the right and ducked into it without a moment’s thought. He should have taken the moment. He’d turned into a dead end. No -- an elevator stood at the end of the short corridor. Kit ran to it and whacked the call button a good one. Footsteps came closer, turned into the short corridor. Shit. Shit. Shit. Open, damn you! Open the damn doors.

The doors slid open, and Kit dived inside. Close! Come on! Oh, there’s a button for that. He hit it. The doors began to close.

“Computer, hold the elevator.” The loud and bossy voice would be registered on the system -- unlike Kit’s. The doors slid open.

“No!” Kit slapped the button again in desperation. The doors stayed stubbornly open. The man started to run, and Kit had no place to go. He considered making a break for it and trying to shove past him. But the guy was big, broad-shouldered. Kit would never get past him in the narrow corridor. Too late to try. Kit flattened himself against the wall of the elevator car as the man burst into it and snapped out a command.

“Computer, section ten. Security override, no stops.”

The doors closed, and the elevator moved off. The man turned to Kit.

“Now, who the hell are you?”

Brown eyes, squinted half shut, glared at Kit from under the peak of a dark blue cap. The face, more tanned than most spacers Kit had seen, was that of a man in his thirties, and not bad-looking at all. But Kit didn’t have the time to think of such things. The other man seemed to fill the elevator car, and Kit stayed leaning back against the wall, making himself smaller, afraid of provoking the man. He looked strong as a horse. The damn size of one too.

“What’s your name?”

Kit glanced down instinctively. He’d picked up a name badge discarded on a bench when he’d sneaked into the locker rooms a few days ago to take a shower. The other man wore one too, though of a different design. His read Raine 3rdM, whatever the hell that meant.

Raine shook his head at Kit’s giveaway glance down. Naturally. Most people didn’t need to read their name off a badge. Kit tried his luck nonetheless.

“Uh, John Willis.” The badge he wore read J Willis. He took a guess.

Raine pulled out a Link and pointed it to scan the badge, making Kit flinch back. Without a word, he held up the device to show the face of a man, with the name James Willis underneath. He was a dark-skinned, moon-faced man with an extra chin or two, making Kit glad he’d only filched James Willis’s badge and not his whole uniform.

“Ah, I lost some weight.”

“And pigment?”

No answer would serve, so Kit stayed silent.

“I’m chief of security of the Light of Dawn,” Raine said. “I’m arresting you for boarding this ship without authorization. Turn around and put your hands on the wall, please.”

His tone had softened from when he’d first burst into the elevator. He’d clearly decided Kit wasn’t a threat, which made Kit bristle. Okay, so this guy could probably snap him in two, but Kit wasn’t harmless, he could ...

“Turn around.” Some of the snap came back.

He could turn around and assume the position -- that’s what he could do. He turned to face the wall, laying his hands flat on it. His heart thudded in his ears, and he started breathing fast. Caught. Fucking caught. Screwed.

“Are you carrying any weapons?” Raine asked.

“No.” Which was stupid. He could have picked something up. A kitchen knife. Anything. And he’d do what? Stab Raine to death? Ridiculous.

“Warner,” Raine said, speaking on the comms, Kit realized. “I’ve got him in an elevator car, and we’re on our way to section ten. Send a squad to meet us there.”

“Right, Boss,” a woman’s voice replied. Kit glanced back at Raine but got a scowl that made him turn away again quickly.

“Stand still,” Raine ordered. He wore gloves, leather ones, and took them off before he began to pat Kit down. As he ran his large hands over Kit’s body, Kit’s stomach knotted with instinctive fear. Raine didn’t do anything to hurt him, but he could feel the strength in those hands. They swept down his legs -- nothing hidden there, the pants he wore too tight-fitting to conceal much. They swept up again, brushed Kit’s ass, making him sigh. Kit might be scared, but those big strong hands touching his ass could only feel good. Raine paused but then moved again and checked the pants pockets, quickly sweeping his fingers around, close to ...

“Sorry,” Raine said softly.

Oh, don’t be. The apology and the slight hoarseness of his voice could mean one of two things. Either embarrassment about rummaging around so close to another man’s goodies -- or it meant Kit had the start of a plan. He forced the fear to the back of his mind, tried to relax. Wait for his moment.

Raine was thorough. He turned up the collar of Kit’s stolen jacket, then whipped the cap from his head. Aware that it made him memorable around here, surrounded by crop-haired spacers, Kit had pulled his hair up under the cap. It fell down, sweeping over his shoulders and back.

Raine’s breathing changed. Kit heard it speed up, and he smiled. The hair always worked. A glance back and he was sure. Raine had desire written all over his face. Lust burned in his eyes.

Kit turned, right into Raine’s arms, and knew instantly what he wanted. Knew he was lost in a moment when everything else had faded away. No elevator, no space freighter, just them, their bodies responding to each other’s heat. He pressed himself forward, straining against Raine’s body.

Kissing him.