“It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. Yes, we absolutely make love and sleep late for the rest of our lives,” Treasure said, “but reminiscing is already boring and we’ve only had a month of downtime.” Treasure began idly stroking the top of Electra’s foot while she thought. It probably wasn’t even a conscious behavior. Anything of Electra’s that came anywhere near Treasure got a reflexive pleasant touch. “I’ve got an idea—something that will completely change our lives and be a huge departure for both of us.”
“Do we have to go somewhere to do it?” Electra asked.
“Eventually, maybe, but not right away.”
“Then tell me more!”
“Remember how you wondered if you ‘threw genetic material’ as you’ve called it?”
“Do you want to get me tested?”
“No need. I’m pregnant.”
Electra could neither fathom the news nor function after she was struck by the completely unexpected and entirely overwhelming flood of joy that accompanied hearing that she would be a mother. Procreation hadn’t been on her list of things to do, ever, even before she’d thought it was impossible, or improbable, or not remotely a good idea due to the ultimate extinction of her species. Now there was a new life, half her and half Treasure, human number three hundred twelve. They’d obviously need to come up with a better name than ‘three hundred twelve’.
“Are you…mad? Okay, what? You’ve kind of just been staring at my stomach for a while,” Treasure said.
“I’m deliriously okay with the news,” Electra said. “There’s a word for that…”
“Ecstatic?”
“Yes, I’m so ecstatic that I forgot the word for it! I’m going to be a mom. You’re going to be a mom. It’s a dream I never had that is all I want now.”
“Then kiss me and help me think of baby names! Because we can’t call her ‘three hundred twelve’.”
“I was just thinking that! Also, it’s a girl?”
“Maybe—or maybe she’ll be like one of her mother’s and we’ll need to head back to Transition Island.”
Electra licked her lips and leaned forward to take Treasure’s face in her hands. Their lips met and they melted into one another. In Treasure’s excitement about telling her miraculous news, the front of her silken robe had fallen open a little, which was actually what Electra had been staring at and not Treasure’s stomach, while she processed the joy-inducing realization that she’d be a mother.
“I want to play the game before we talk names.”
“You always lose,” Treasure said.
“I’m feeling lucky.”
Treasure shrugged. “If you feel like challenging the Queen, I’ll even let you go first.”
“Green?”
“No.” Treasure smiled and cocked her head to one side to study Electra. “Blue?”
“Yes.” Electra sighed. And she’d felt so confident with the green guess. “Black and white?”
“Yes! Maybe you are getting better.” Treasure leaned back and crossed her legs, bouncing the top foot a little while she thought. “Thong.”
“Yes.” Electra let out a long groan. “Same?”
“Nope,” Treasure said. “Utopalex.”
“How did you know I was building up my tolerance again?” Electra bounced angrily a little in her seat.
“You have so many crazy obvious tells, sweetness. I win again!” Treasure clapped excitedly. “Well, take them off and give them to me.”
Electra stood and shimmied out of her panties—dark blue, thong-backed and made of Utopalex, as Treasure had correctly guessed. In the process, Electra was mindful to give Treasure only the briefest of glances at what was underneath the robe before tossing the prize to her lover. Treasure grinned like a Cheshire cat and twirled the tiny blue thong around on her index finger.
“You only won so many times early on because I didn’t wear underwear and this is your game,” Electra whined.
“And all the times you’ve lost since you started wearing panties specifically for this game?”
“Because you’re better at it than me,” Electra said with a sigh.
“How sweet of you to say!” Treasure feigned surprise at the required response of the loser to the winner. “Now, I’ll give them back for…Carmen Electra’s strip-aerobics.”
“Oh, come on. I’m not very good yet.”
“I disagree. You’d better start dancing, because we have to go see Dr. Bort about a prenatal exam and I’m definitely going to want to do things to you after watching you dance,” Treasure said. “So make with the sexy, Captain Rex.”
“Ivy, play Carmen Electra’s Werq,” Electra said.
“Yes, Miss Electra,” Ivy said. “I’m sorry you lost again.”
“What the hell, Ivy? I thought we were friends,” Electra said, even as the upbeat song began to play.
“We are friends, Miss Electra,” Ivy said. “As your friend, I am sorry you suck at the underwear game.”
“You programmed her to say that!”
“I did,” Treasure said with a grin. “I’m getting so much better at the command prompts.”
Slightly over a minute into the song, Electra struggled to remember the dance routine from the ancient artifact of a DVD that demonstrated how to use burlesque dancing for fitness purposes. If the occasional halt and change of direction when she forgot a step bothered Treasure, it didn’t show in the slightest. After the exceedingly brief strip tease, Treasure hopped up on the edge of the dining room table, spread her legs wide and beckoned Electra to her with a curled finger.
“One of these days we’ll make it all the way through the song,” Treasure said before pulling Electra into a deep kiss.
They’d need to come up with new maxims, since Electra couldn’t care less about the Embarker wisdom of ‘never owe’ and ‘shit needs to get done’. Owing had led her to a beautiful life, a future with a family, and shit would sort itself out, in her experience. ‘Do better just because’ had a nice ring to it. Maybe she’d write it down—after she did everything imaginable with Treasure.
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Spotless: Heart
Bailey Bradford
Excerpt
Edie posed before the full-length mirror in her tiny bedroom. She stuck her butt out a little more, arching her lower back and trying to emulate the stick-thin model on the page of the magazine tacked onto the mirror’s frame. “How do you even have a butt?” Edie asked the picture.
There was no way she’d ever be that skinny. Of course, she’d never have a vagina or full breasts, either.
Edie frowned, then scowled. “What idiot decided that’s what women should look like anyway? Why am I even trying to look like you?” She tore the paper down. “You’ve got nothing on Marilyn, girl.”
Edie preferred the curves and softness on a woman to those stick-straight lines she’d been trying to copy. Even with the parts she had, Edie was curvier than that model.
Well, okay, maybe they were equal on the lack of breasts part.
Edie pulled her dress out and glared at her flat chest. Breasts weren’t ever going to develop there, and implants were out of the question. As a shifter, her body wouldn’t tolerate anything like that.
She was okay with it, mostly, though. She had to be. A good bra fixed the problem, and anyway, while she’d felt a bit off in her body as a child, maturity had brought around a certain level of comfort with it.
The fact was there would be no altering her body from male to female, not since she was a shifter.
Edie had accepted that and now actually liked having the equipment she had. It was a pain to tuck and such, but yeah, she was content. Mostly. Okay, no, but she was learning to be happy with what she had.
With her body, at least. Everything else was…confusing and scary. Edie pushed a curl behind her ear. She flicked the clip-on earring dangling from that lobe. It was too bad pierced ears weren’t possible either.
Edie shook her head. “No way.”
There wasn’t any chance she’d run into Rolly if she sought out Remus, and yet she couldn’t get Rolly out of her thoughts. It seemed like any time she left her house, or even her bedroom lately, she carried the expectation of seeing the man again. It was giving her the creeps or something like that. No, not the creeps. Rolly’s not a bad person. He’s just… I don’t know. He’s always unsettled me. Edie couldn’t figure it out.
Maybe Rolly had returned, and she knew it subconsciously? Though why would that be? The past year, she’d thought a lot about Rolly, though he’d always fascinated her, and scared her, too.
Rolly hadn’t done anything to harm her. He’d only ever spoken a few words to her. Edie had always been too shy and nervous to give him a chance to do more. There was no reason for him to, anyway. Rolly had proven himself to be a very powerful shaman in his own right five years ago, almost on par with his father, Remus. For all Edie knew, Rolly could have surpassed him in shamanistic abilities.
Why did she keep thinking of him? It was like she could feel him, not right there in her face, but in the background, somewhere, watching. Waiting. For what, she didn’t know. It made Edie’s belly go tight and hot.
Although, she mused as she looked at herself again, Rolly had yet to see her like this. All he’d seen was Erdwin, Edie’s blah half—as far as Edie knew. She couldn’t think of a time when Rolly would have had the opportunity to see her as her real self.
As Erdwin, Edie did feel even more out of place. Scared, timid, just out and out wrong in her skin. “Plain as that nasty vanilla yogurt,” she murmured to her reflection. It was amazing how much confidence a subtle application of makeup and a change of clothes gave her.
“Not enough to go talk to Remus.” Edie huffed and pouted. Oh, she looked cute like that! Ducklips! Definitely going to have to try that on a cute boy in town as soon as I can work up the nerve.
There was that strange tug in her gut again, warming her up.
“No, damn it.” Edie dabbed at the beads of sweat on her brow.
“You okay in there?” Solomon called out at the same time that he tapped on the door. “I thought you were coming down for supper.”
“Fine,” Edie replied, giving herself another once-over. “Just got distracted.”
Solomon snorted loud enough to be heard through the wooden door.
Edie grinned and hurried over to it. She was lucky to have the family she did, even if they were a huge clan of loud people. They were loving and accepting, and that was a lot more than many people in her situation had.
“Come on,” Solomon said as he held out his elbow. “It’s your birthday, and you’ve kept everyone waiting.”
“It’s embarrassing.” Edie slipped her arm through her brother’s. “I told you I didn’t want a party.”
“It’s not a party,” Solomon informed her. “If it was, we’d have invited people, but you aren’t comfortable with that, so… It’s only your family, celebrating the fact that they love you like crazy, and that you just started the long, slippery slope toward being an old maid.”
Edie turned her nose up at her brother and huffed. “I’m only twenty-three! And that’s just four years younger than you!”
“Yeah,” Solomon agreed. “But I don’t age. I just improve.”
“Dork.” Edie couldn’t contain a snicker then. Solomon was a goofball. And she was glad there weren’t any guests. Other people always made her uncomfortable. She was afraid to be herself around them. For that reason alone, Edie preferred to hide when there were any visitors.
“So I get the singing and cake, and presents?” she asked for clarification.
“Oh yeah,” Solomon agreed. “Azil is hardcore about birthdays being a big deal. You know that.”
Edie grinned. She did indeed know that Solomon’s mate insisted on making every birthday into a full-blown party. Edie put that down to Azil having lived most of his life in a very oppressive society—and to him just being a sweetheart. “Well then, that makes up for the whole birthday acknowledgment, I guess.”
Solomon cocked his head. “You knew you were getting a party. We weren’t going to ignore this day.”
Edie nodded. “Of course. Azil wouldn’t let me get by without having a party, and that’s awesome—Azil’s awesome. I just get nervous around other people. It’s so hard to even think about being my true self around them. It helps that you said no guests. As long as it’s just family, I’m okay.”
“Azil is awesome, I agree. As for the guests… I know, sweetie.” Solomon brushed her cheek with a featherlight kiss. “But you should be proud of yourself and let everyone else see how you shine. Be yourself.”
Edie bit back a sarcastic reply. Solomon was only trying to help. He didn’t understand the depth of her fear and discomfort in social situations. Probably because it wasn’t consistent. Sometimes she could go out in public with her family, but other times, she had to stay home and just hide.
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About the Author
April Griffith is a lesbian, a rogue academic, and a giant nerd. She’s from Oregon, but calls San Diego her home. Her passions include LGBTQ+ political activism, creating safe places for women in Dungeons & Dragons, and writing the books she wanted to read when she was a kid. April worked on the Amazon Gladiator series (Anaxilea: Amazon Princess and Anaxilea: Gladiatrix) under a pen name.
April loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website details and author profile page at https://www.pride-publishing.com
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