Chapter 23

Jake rolled off Brett and crawled over to his saddle bags. Brett, unwilling to give up the physical contact, moved close to Jake and began to run appreciative fingers over the wide expanse of Jake’s tan shoulders, the muscles of which moved with fluid perfection as Jake sought out whatever it was the re-gen facility had given him.

Pulling out a small plastic tube, Jake examined it critically in the firelight. “Doesn’t look nothin’ like the lube back home.”

“That’s ’cause it’s nothing like the lube back home,” Brett said, taking the tube from Jake.

He’d heard some of his buddies on the football team rave about the lube, the ones who were studying sciences, talking about the stuff’s unparalleled high traction coefficient, or some other shit Brett was way too uninterested in at the moment to try and recall.

Rolling onto his back and raising his legs, Brett uncapped the tube and was about to squirt some of the stuff onto his fingers when Jake stopped him.