Sexy Beast (2/20)

A Matter of Semantics

The best thing to do was to pretend that everything was as it was.  Uhura’s internal clock woke her up and she showered, dressed and forced herself to put on one of those outrageous costumes.  Too nervous to eat, she reported to the bridge at her usual time and took her place at the communications center.  Sulu watched her enter, his expression a mixed blend of emotions.  Yesterday she pretended to entice him as a distraction and then slapped him away when he fell for it.  Uhura was well aware that it was not over between them; that he would find a way to retaliate.  What he might do, she couldn’t say.  She thought it best to expect the worst.  Uhura was armed, at any rate.  If he tried anything, she would do more than slap him.

Spock was at his console.  She ignored him and placed her earpiece in her ear.  This part of the masquerade was easy; her duty was exactly the same, except she served an empire, not a federation.  She prepared a gist report for the captain, a list of his current orders, and a brief summary of the previous shift’s transmissions.

“Lieutenant,” Spock said, greeting her. 

She looked at him and acknowledged him with a bow of her head.  She might loathe him, but she would not disrespect him.  He was, after all, the commander of this vessel and she was a professional.  “Commander.”

Captain Kirk came aboard and all the men saluted him.  He returned the salute, went to her to get his reports, and then took his seat.  What her Captain Kirk worked so hard to avoid happened in less than ten minutes.  This Kirk ordered the destruction of the Halkans and Spock gave him the city coordinates to do so.  To her credit, Uhura did not say anything, but the massive loss of life to such a peaceful society cut her deep.  She faced her console so that no one would see her tears.

“We’ll stay in orbit until the debris clears,” Kirk said.  “Scotty has already located the dilithium quarry.  We’ll send down a team of excavators to take what we need.  We’ll sell the rest.”

“Affirmative, Captain,” Spock said.  “And it will be a profitable exercise.”

“That it would be, Spock.  I happen to know that the ISS Raider and the ISS Cardinal are in serious need of dilithium crystals.  I’m sure that Captain Dallas and Captain Bowlen would be willing to negotiate.”

Spock nodded and turned his attention back to his console.  He glanced in her direction. There were tears on her cheeks.  She wiped her face and remained quiet, but he knew that she was upset that the Halkans had been destroyed.

*

When her shift was over, Uhura headed to the mess to grab a quick bite.  She wasn’t in the mood to eat, but understood that she needed to.  She had not eaten anything since leaving the USS Enterprise yesterday morning.  Uhura didn’t know what would happen next, but she intended to be ready for whatever it was.  She walked briskly and kept her eyes in front of her, passing crew members who didn’t speak and she didn’t speak in turn.  Everyone on this ship was rude.  Or maybe they just didn’t like her.  Either way, she would get over it.

Then someone smacked her ass and she stumbled, nearly falling.

“Ooops! Sorry, mami!  Guess I hit ya too hard.  But I know that’s the way ya like it.”

She turned, gasping.  In front of her was a tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired male.  He was smiling.

“Where ya been, mami?  I was waiting for ya last night.  Ya promised to stop by.”

Uhura blinked and slapped him across the face.  Then she put her hand on her blade.  “You keep your hands to yourself, mister!”

The man, actually good-looking, laughed and tried to grab her arms.  “Ah mami, ya got a little more fire in ya today!  Ya know I like it when ya feisty…why don’t ya come on down to my room and let me put that fire out for ya.  I waited all night for ya to stop by and ya didn’t.  What’s a man to do but keep trying?”

“Don’t touch me,” she said, stepping back.  She gripped the knife handle, loathe to extricate it, but she would if she had to.

“Come on, mami! Don’t be such a fucking tease!  Ya came on to me, remember?”

She swallowed.  What on earth had her counterpart gotten her into?   “I wasn’t feeling well last night, and I’m not feeling well today.  So please, just leave me be.”

The guy looked at her.  “Ya look fine.  Don’t look like ya sick at all.  You’re just saying that to keep me off ya.  Won’t work.  Got a hard-on with ya name on it, mami…come here!  Come to Papi.”

He grabbed her and she screamed.  He pushed her against the wall and one thought popped in her mind—they were in the corridor!—and she brought up her knee into his groin.  He grunted but didn’t let her go.

“Like it when ya fight, mami!  We all like it when ya fight, makes it so good…”

“Let me go!” she said, kicking.  He pressed against her and actually tried to kiss her.  Uhura’s arms were pinned and she couldn’t move.  When he tried to kiss her, she bit him and kneed him again.  He released her and she whipped out her knife.  He came at her again and she slashed his hand open.

“You BITCH!” he snarled, cradling his bleeding hand.  He came at her again.  Blood pumping, Uhura prepared herself to take a man’s life.  She had no time to worry about it now.  She flipped the blade.

Fuming, the man swung and knocked the blade out of her hands and slammed her against the wall.  She hit her head.  He grabbed her hips and she clawed his face and kicked at him.  She screamed again and closed her eyes, wishing, praying for someone to stop this.  She was about to get raped in the freaking corridor and no one tried to help her.  What kind of people would listen to such an attack and not help? A ship full of savages.

She prayed.  ‘Just kill me now.  Let me die.’  She preferred that over rape.

And then he was gone.  She heard his body fall to the ground.  Uhura opened her eyes to see a Vulcan dressed in a blue attendant’s uniform standing before the inert body of the man.  She was surprised and relieved.

“Are you all right, Miss Uhura?” he asked.

She nodded, trying to put herself back together.  “I’m…I’m fine.  Thank you.”

“Good.  Where were you trying to go?  Your quarters are on B-deck.”

“I was hungry.  I thought I’d get a bite to eat.”

“No,” he said.  “Go to your suite.  Your meal will be delivered to you.  Go now.”

“But what about him?”

“Please go to your quarters, Miss Uhura.  Do not worry about him.  Go.”

She nodded.  “Thank you, sir.  What is your name?”

“My name is unimportant,” he said.  “Please.  Go.”

Uhura turned and headed back towards the turbo lift.  When she got to her quarters, she couldn’t hold it together anymore.  She burst into tears, holding herself, grateful to the young Vulcan who saved her from rape.  How in the world would she be able to survive on this ship?  She lay on her bed and screamed into her pillow.

*

Spock entered her quarters with a service.  Turock told him about what happened in the corridor and assured him that the crewman would never bother her, or anyone else, again.  Spock was furious that the man was able to get close enough to Uhura to try and rape her and used his modified agonizer to torture Turock for ninety seconds.  Shaking from the agonizer’s effects, Turock promised Spock that no one else would get within touching distance of Uhura.

“You had better make sure of that, Turock,” Spock told him.  “Not one hair on her head.  Or you will be replaced.”

She was on the bed, still fully dressed, her face in the pillow.  She was asleep.  Spock went over and sat on the bed.  He put a hand on her lower back and gently shook her awake.  Uhura groaned, turning over to see him sitting by her.  Her eyes widened.

“What are you doing in my room, you—!”  She started to get up, but he took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her back down.

“I intend you no harm,” he said.  “I brought you something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” she lied.  Her stomach growled loud enough for him to hear.

“Your body says otherwise, Lieutenant.  Nevertheless, you have not had a decent meal since you came aboard this ship.”

“You mean since you kidnapped me!”

“A matter of semantics,” he said.  “Now please, calm down.  I only wish that you nourish yourself.”

Uhura let out a long sigh.  She was too tired to fight him.  And she was hungry.

“Come, let us eat in the sitting room,” he said.  “But first, allow me to remove your shoes.”

“I can do it,” she said.

“I am aware of that, Miss Uhura.  But I would appreciate the dispensation.”  He wanted to touch her, by fair means or foul.  He wanted to know how she felt; how hot she was, how soft she was.

Spock put his hands on the inside of one thigh and grasped the zipper.  Her skirt shifted while she was asleep and revealed her garter belt.  Her thighs were a beautiful cappuccino brown and he imagined what it would feel like to have them on either side of him.  Slowly, he pulled down the zipper, unabashedly staring at the place where her thighs met, wanting to push his face between them.  Then he moved the zipper over her calf.

“Please raise your leg,” he said.  Uhura bit her lip, angry with herself for actually getting a little excited when he put his hands on her.  But she would die before ever showing it.  She bent her knee and he unzipped the boot.  Spock pulled the leather away from her leg and removed the boot.  Then, for he couldn’t help himself, he grasped her calf and slid his hands down over her leg.  She stared at him, at his hands.  Then Spock turned to unzip the other boot.  Wordlessly, she allowed him.  She really didn’t have a choice.  He would have done it whether she consented to it or not.  She wondered what else he would do to her regardless of her consent.

“Would you like for me to remove your stockings?” he asked.

“No, I am perfectly capable of undressing myself,” she retorted.

“I should hope,” he said, taking her hands and caressing them, “that one day you will allow me that sublime privilege.”

“Hell will freeze over first,” she snapped, slapping his hands away.

Spock grabbed her hands again. “Do not fight me,” he said.  “I am familiar with the human concept of hell.  However, you will find that there is no hell here, Lieutenant, and as such, it is impossible for it to freeze over.  So I expect that one day, you will have no choice but to allow me to undress you.  I promise you that you can remove my clothing anytime you wish.”

“Ack!” she said, squirming, pulling her hands away.  “You’re no better than that guy!”

“I beg to differ,” he said.  “However, I am sorry that happened to you.  He will never bother you again.  Come, let us eat.”

He helped her up and took her arm.  Frustrated, Uhura pulled away from him, but he merely did it again.  She gave up fighting and let him lead her to the sitting room.  He sat her down and covered her lap with a napkin.  Spock put her plate in front of her and she was relieved to find that he had her favorite: grilled chicken in a lemon butter sauce over rice pilaf with steamed broccoli and bread rolls.  With a large glass of tea.

He himself had rounds of falafel with tzajiki sauce, pita bread and a crisp green salad.  He also drank tea.  Uhura eyed his plate, wondering how his meal tasted.  It looked delicious.  She was so hungry that she could have eaten his food in addition to hers.  She wanted to tear into her meal with her fingers.  But she didn’t want to give Spock the satisfaction of knowing that he was right, and so she took her time. 

Spock watched her as he ate, wondering how long this battle of wills was going to take.  He would do whatever was necessary to make himself appealing to her, but there were some hard truths she would just have to accept.

“You were upset this morning,” he said.

She wiped her mouth and took a long sip of tea.  It was enhanced with berry nectar and it was very good.  Then she took another to avoid answering his question.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said.

“We must, Miss Uhura.  The world you know is not the world you are in.  We do things differently here.  Fear must be maintained.  The Empire will not be denied.”

“Savages,” she said, drinking her tea until the glass was empty.  Uhura licked her lips.  She wanted some more.

Spock watched her mouth, watched her pretty pink tongue dart out and glide over her bottom lip.  She had no idea…

“It does not matter what you think of us, Miss Uhura, for you are now one of us.  The point is that you must adjust to our way of life.”

“I cannot.  And I will not.  I’m a prisoner here.”

“If that is what you choose to believe,” he said.  “Would you like more tea?”

“No,” she snapped.

He stared at her for a very long moment.  She held his gaze defiantly.  Then he got up and poured her another glass from the pitcher on the service.

“Thank you,” she murmured before taking a drink.  The tea was so good that she was glad he called her bluff.

“It is a blend of my own creation,” he said.  “An infusion of Vulcan berries.”

“It is delicious,” she said.

“Would you like something more to eat?”

“No,” she said.  “I must watch my weight.”  But she was still hungry.  She eyed one of his falafel patties.

“I am confused,” he said.  “Watch it do what?”

She glared at him.  “I don’t want to gain any weight.”

He didn’t see where her body mass would be a concern for him.  Spock forked a falafel patty and slid it onto her plate.  She glared at him and sighed as he spooned some tzajiki sauce beside it, and then tore off a piece of pita bread to go with it.

“I can barely wear this scandalous outfit,” she said.  “It’s too snug.  I do not want to wear any of the clothes in my closet.  May I please have a different uniform?  One that covers me?”

“That is the standard female uniform.  It is mandated attire by our captain.  You must wear it.  He prefers that our women be pleasing to the eye to distract visitors on our ship.”

“I feel like a prostitute.”  Sighing again, Uhura wrapped the falafel patty inside the pita bread and covered it with the tzajiki sauce.  She bit into the wrap and an expression of bliss crossed her face.  Spock would have smiled if it were something he was capable of.  He merely took satisfaction in the fact that he could read her so well.

“You will adjust,” he said.

“You keep saying that,” she said.  “How can you possibly expect me to adjust to this?”

“If you want to survive, you have no choice, Miss Uhura.  As you experienced today, your predecessor left many things unfinished that you must now deal with, the least of which is an over-amorous crewman.”

Uhura looked at her plate.  “No one tried to help me,” she said.

“No one will,” Spock said.  “It is the way of this ship.  Happenings in the corridor are between those individuals to which it is happening.”

She closed her eyes.  “Barbaric.”

Spock merely raised an eyebrow.  “I wish for you to align with me.  I can protect you.  No one will bother you if they know you belong to me.”

“I can take care of myself,” she said.  “And I belong to no man.”

“The men on board this ship will try to ensure otherwise, Miss Uhura.  It is the way of things.”

“Send me back home, Mr. Spock.  Please.  I beg of you, send me home.  I don’t want to stay here.”

“You are well aware that I cannot,” he said.

“You mean you will not.  And yet you expect me to be your concubine!  How illogical is that?”

“The window for transport to your universe is forever closed.  The ion storm has passed.  There is no way.”

“Gah!” she screamed, banging her fists on the table. 

“Please do not overexert yourself, Miss Uhura.”

She looked at him.  “I don’t understand why you don’t understand how irrational this is.”

“When I want something—and it is rare for me to want—I take whatever steps are necessary to obtain it.  When you were mistakenly beamed aboard the ISS Enterprise, I knew within minutes that I wanted you.  I did not want you to leave my universe.  I wanted you to stay here.  So I disrupted the transporter’s energy distribution.”

“Why do you want me and you don’t want her?  What makes us so different that you would abandon her in my universe—where she will be thrown in the brig if she’s what you say—and risk my life to leave me here?”

“It is very simple,” he said.  “You are capable of that which she is not.  You have a heart.”

“This is funny coming from a man who tortures his subordinates and who assisted in the destruction of a peaceful society!”

“Nonetheless,” he continued, sipping his tea, “you have and can give me what she does not have and cannot.”

“You seem to be convinced that I will give it to you.”  She rolled her eyes and finished the wrap, refusing to acknowledge how good it was.

“You will,” he said.  “I will not force you, but you shall find that it will be easier if you give in to me.”

“Are we still talking about my heart?” she asked, glaring at him.

“I am talking about the whole of you.  As you have no doubt discovered, the way of the Empire is to take, take take.  To wreak havoc.  To steal, to kill, to torture. To ensure personal prosperity.  To rule over the weak.  I am a wealthy man because I have willingly participated in these activities.  Not to adapt to such a life is to invite death and I do not wish to die.  I find myself oftentimes in a state of disquiet as to the illogicality of waste, as fear cannot endure.  Your Captain Kirk is right that the Empire will not be able to maintain itself.  However, I cannot change what it is, and right now it is powerful.  I want you because you are capable of giving me balance.”

“Are you serious?” she said.  “You want me to save you from yourself?  You can choose, you know!  Captain Kirk told you that you could choose!  You don’t have to be that way!  It doesn’t make any sense!  And I want no part of a thief, a murderer, a torturer and a despot!  How could I sleep with you knowing the harm you have caused?  I’m NOT THAT KIND OF WOMAN!!!”

She got up and went over to stand by her bedroom door.  Spock put his napkin on the plate and got up.  He went over to her and stood behind her, close enough that he could feel her heat and see the minute trembling of her shoulders.  Uhura stiffened. 

“This is precisely why I need you, why I desire you,” he said.  “You feel.”

“And she doesn’t?”

“Your counterpart was incapable of it, in the manner which I seek.”

“Mr. Sulu is under the impression that you two are an item.”  Was she jealous?

“Mr. Sulu is mistaken.  He has observed her advances and my failure to accept them.  He has derived whatever meaning from such.  There was never anything between us but duty.  She wanted otherwise, but frankly, she did not stimulate me.”

“Mr. Spock, I just can’t handle all this.  I can’t handle working under these conditions, can’t handle being attacked, can’t handle you—”

His hands curled around her upper arms and she felt him move close to her.  Close enough to feel his body heat, but not close enough to touch.  He pressed his cheek against the side of her head.  “You could handle me, Miss Uhura.  That is an invitation.  I do not wish for any harm to come to you.  I do not wish for you to endure hostility.  I will take care of you.  If you become my woman, mine…you will have everything and no one will touch you.  No one but me.” he said.  He knew it was a gamble, a display of illogic, but it was necessary.  “Align with me.  You are not my prisoner nor my slave, but my equal.  I will please you.  I will satisfy you.  I will ensure that you are content; that you will have no cause to want.”

Uhura took a deep breath.  He was so warm and he smelled so good.  His hands were free of calluses and his grip was gentle.  His voice had a seductive cadence.  She had no choice but to admit that it made her shiver.  Could she…no! No!  He admitted his crimes and she could not…!

“I can’t,” she said.  “I can’t.  Now that I know who you are and what you have done, how can I?”

“Do not let that influence you,” he said.  “It is the way of the Empire, of this universe.  There is no changing what is.”

She closed her eyes and felt sizzling warmth against the top of her ear.  He’s kissing my ear…’

“I find that I lose my rationality in your presence,” he said.  “It is the same power that your counterpart has over others on board this ship.  She makes men lose their common sense.  I dare say that you are doing the same to me, Miss Uhura.  May I call you Nyota?”

“Mr. Spock…!”  She closed her eyes.  The Vulcan was seducing her.  In all the dreams she’d had about her Spock, it was always her who had to do the seducing.  “Mr. Spock…I c-c-can’t…”

“You will eventually change your mind, Miss Uhura,” he said.  “It is logical for you to just accept that and forego any time that will be wasted by your denials.”

“You just want to have sex with me,” she said, trying to use whatever wedge she had left.  She was a lot weaker than she thought.

“I do and yet that is not what made me disrupt the transporter.  An added benefit, that is all.”  He moved his lips to her bare shoulder.

“So you would not try to rape me?”

“I am guilty of many crimes, but never that one.  I have no need to rape,” he said.  “I am not driven by sexual intimacy or the need to dominate a female.”

“Yet you took my choices away from me when you abducted me.  What do you call that?  I call it hypocritical.”

“I call it consequences of the action that I took.  For I accept them and will deal with them.  You are worth it.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.”  She wanted to move away, but his lips were soft and his goatee tickled her in a way she really liked.  Spock with a beard…

“My dear Miss Uhura,” he said, pressing a tender kiss behind her ear, “Please forgive me.”

“I can’t,” she said.  “I’m never going to get back home.  I had a life there.  You took it from me.  How can I forgive you for that?”

“I will give you a better life here.  You had no husband, no children, only your career.”

“How do you know what I had and didn’t have?”

“You did not speak of them when you first learned of my sabotage.  Nor did you speak of a lover.  Did you have a lover in your universe, Miss Uhura?  Did you have a man to hold you, to care for you, to love you and to thrill you?”

She thought about her Spock.  How she had wanted him to do those things!  But he was…well, it didn’t matter now.

Spock brushed his lips over her hair, taking in her fragrance. “Did you have a lover, Miss Uhura?  Should I be jealous of the one who has held you before me?  Should I be concerned that you will seek out his equivalent?  I must warn you that I am capable of jealousy.  I guard well what is mine.  I will not have another man know you as I do, as I intend to.”

Uhura couldn’t possibly tell him that she had feelings for his counterpart.  She couldn’t tell this Spock how she yearned for the affections of that Spock.  She could not give him that knowledge.  He would use it against her. 

“As if you can control it,” she said, jerking away from him.  “As if you can control me.  You took my choices away from me when you abducted me, but you will not take any more of them.  Do you hear me, Mr. Spock?  What kind of a life do you expect me to have if I can’t make any of my own decisions?”

“The only other choice I wish to influence upon you is the option to be with me.  All other decisions will be yours.”  He moved towards her and she moved backwards.  Uhura didn’t know what to say or what to do.

“I know that you are tired,” he said.  “Tomorrow, you have an additional shift in the long-range sensor lab.  Please get some rest.  I shall bring your breakfast to you.”

“What, you don’t want me out in public?” 

“I do not wish for you to sustain another attack.  For there will be more of them.”

“I can take care of myself,” she said.

“All the same,” Spock said, “I will bring your breakfast at 0700 hours.”

Secretly, Uhura was relieved.

*

Promptly, he arrived at 0700 hours.  Uhura was running later than normal; the fear and exhaustion of the past two days overtook her and she slept through her alarm.  When Spock arrived, she was in her robe.

“I take it that you overslept?”

“I’m so tired,” she said.

“Would you like for me to adjust your schedule to second shift for today?”

“No, I can handle it,” she snapped.

“Finish clothing yourself,” he said.  “Your breakfast will be ready when you are.”

Uhura nodded and darted into her bathroom.  Spock set her place and then walked over to her bedroom partition to look inside.  Her bed was unmade.  He took in the fragrance of her room and turned towards the direction of her bathroom.  The old Uhura, a woman of vanity, had a full-length mirror right outside of the bathroom so that she could examine herself at leisure.  This Uhura apparently was in too much of a hurry to realize that it revealed everything.

Spock watched her slip into her underwear.  He could tell by the look on her face that she was unhappy about her limited clothing options, but the sight pleased him greatly.  Naked, Uhura was incredible.  He longed for the time when she would stand before him in her glorious birth attire.  When he would sink to his knees to worship at her altar.  She had more power than she realized.

Uhura put on the garter belt and secured it, then sat on the commode to pull on her stockings.  Spock watched greedily, indulging his latent voyeuristic behavior.  He would never tell her that he saw her naked, but he would do it again if the occasion presented itself.  She clipped the stockings into place, frowning again.

He would have to inform her that such attire was not so bad.  It definitely had its charms.

She slipped on her skirt, fiddling with it until she was satisfied.  Then she took a moment to caress her breasts.  Spock closed his eyes for a moment, imagining the weight of them in his hands, the sensation of her nipples in his mouth.  Her breasts were large and full.  Her nipples were dark and erect.  She was rubbing them, trying to keep them from protruding.  She put on her bra and secured it, wiggling and adjusting until her bosom sat the way she wanted it to.  Spock welcomed the time when he would be allowed to bury his face in her ample cleavage.  Then Uhura put on the top, tugging it in place.  She looked in the mirror and saw her nipples extending.  She rubbed them again, trying to keep them down.

He turned away.  To watch any more would be dangerous.  Spock allowed his passion for this Uhura to run unchecked, for it was pleasurable to know that she was worthy of his attentions and that she would eventually welcome the full brunt of his desire.  She would welcome him.  He was absolutely sure of that.

Spock resumed his place at her table.  She exited her bedroom, shoeless but attired.  When he got up to attend her, she slapped at his hands.  “I can take care of myself, thank you!”

“I am aware of that,” he said.  “But I am a gentleman and I wish for you to allow me to demonstrate it.  As you know, it is my aspiration that we unite, and I would not have you displeased with a lack of courtesy on my part.”

She frowned.  “The juxtaposition of your nature makes no sense to me.  You destroyed the Halkans and you talk to me about courtesy? You torture your subordinates and you tell me that you’re a gentleman?  What do I believe, Mr. Spock?  Do I believe you or my own eyes?”

“Believe what you choose, Miss Uhura.  I would, however, encourage you to take the way I treat you as your guide.”

“How do I know that you won’t demonstrate that dual nature of yours and hit me when I displease you?”

“Under normal circumstances, I do not hit women,” he said. 

She couldn’t help but be intrigued.  “What would be an unusual circumstance?”

“I do not think that you are ready to hear it, Miss Uhura.  I am certain that you do not wish to know those details.”

“Don’t you think I have a right to know what to expect from you if I’m crazy enough to align with you?”

“If that is what you want,” Spock said as he poured orange juice for her to drink.  Then he met her gaze.  “I have certain appetites, certain fetishes.  If you were to displease me, I would discipline you. But only if you agree to it.”

“Discipline?  What do you mean by discipline?”  Did she really want to know?  Why did she ask?

Spock stared into her dark brown eyes and then allowed his gaze to drift over her mouth.  Then he looked at her again.  “It means exactly what you think it means.  If you were to indulge one of my proclivities, you would allow me to…chastise you.”  Spock found his research in human sexuality endlessly entertaining and stimulating.  The captain was also helpful in that he didn’t mind sharing fascinating tidbits about his intimate dealings with his women.  This was merely one of them, one that Spock cared to investigate.

“WHAT?”  Uhura closed her eyes as her face flamed hot.  The man was a reprehensible devil!  What other appetites did he have?  What other needs did he expect her to fulfill?  If he thought that she would let him spank her…

“You asked,” he said.

 “You are a fiend!  I have never…” Her Spock would never allow such a wicked, dirty thought to enter his well-ordered mind.

And yet, that same dark corner of her mind that found this Spock so seductively attractive also found the idea of being bent over his lap damned hot.  What else might he do if she let him?  What did that make her?  Maybe she wasn’t the woman she thought she was.  She couldn’t help where her mind went with that suggestion.

‘Oh dear,’ she thought.

“Would you like to know what other appetites I wish for you to cosset?”  There were plenty

.

“No thank you,” she snapped, deciding not to meet his eyes.  She didn’t want him to see what was in hers.  Ultimately, it didn’t matter, for it would never happen.  If he so much as laid a hand on her, she would try to kill him. 

Uhura looked down at her plate.  Her face was so warm that she knew he could see the color in her cheeks.  She wondered if he could read her mind.  Her Spock was a telepath, but he did not believe in intruding into one’s mind without permission.  She doubted that the sexy beast in front of her made such minute distinctions.  He was probably all up in her mind, picking and choosing whatever little delights took his fancy.

He brought her eggs, toast and turkey bacon, a berry fruit cup, water and juice.  She had to admit, he was thorough and thoughtful in her meal preferences.  Of course, all he had to do was look up the old Uhura’s meal card to find that out.

Uhura started to eat.  What in the hell was she going to do with such a man pursuing her?