Interplanetary Love

by Shelley Munro

  “Leave the boy alone,” Papa chided. “We will give thanks for the delicious beest curry and offer prayers for our health to the Goddess.”

  Topic closed, Rala thought, fuming afresh. Beneath the table, her hands gripped her knees while she fought to stay silent. Leave the boy alone. If she left the boy alone, she’d die an old maid. She’d never know what it felt like to hold a child in her arms or feel the slide of her body against Gregorius’ in the joining bed. A leisurely loving. She’d remain on a diet of quickies that did nothing to soothe the heat of lust writhing through her veins.

  Of course, she could disobey her parents and strike out on her own, but she loved them, despite their differences of opinion in this area. She didn’t want to hurt or fall out with them.

  She glanced at her brother and caught his arrogant smirk. Gritting her teeth, she opened her pocket and let her Luci, her katmer, out for some exercise. A button-black nose appeared then the pointy head. The creature stood on its hind legs and froze on sighting Ekim. Luci moved with the speed of light, jumping off Rala’s lap and onto the floor.

  “Ow! What the…” Ekim bit off whatever he was going to say and jumped to his feet, Luci clamped onto his left hand.

  “Rala,” her mother said. “You know Ekim doesn’t like Luci. Take her outside and place her in her pen this minute.”

  Rala retrieved her chattering pet, a descendant of one of Earth’s meerkats, and took her outside.

  “Are you injured, Ekim?” Mama asked.

  “That…creature drew blood,” Ekim said.

  “Droid, get the medicine kit for Mr. Ekim,” Papa said.

  Rala muttered under her breath on her return. There hadn’t been that much blood. Ekim was spoilt, and he was ruining her life. In that moment, she decided to hell with the bitch-Goddess and her parents. She’d send off the completed application form to Interplanetary Love and forge her own destiny.

  * * * * *

  Dooyllob Studio, Ekim’s dressing room

  “Do it. Do me now.”

  Thick demand and lust coated the woman’s plea. Leesa? Marlika?

  Ekim Ramuk stared at her swollen pink labia and sighed because he couldn’t recall her name. The third female in his bed this week-cycle, and the cycle had barely started. Every bone in his body ached and protested from shooting the action scenes for his latest vid-com. He fought a yawn. If he wasn’t careful, his reputation as the greatest lover on the planet Nidni was gonna kill him.

  “Pleeaase,” the woman moaned, thrusting her glistening clit closer to his face.

  Ekim heaved another sigh, and the woman thrashed at the burst of warm air against her swollen tissues. Grata, his tongue muscles ached with overuse. His jaw throbbed from the punch an exuberant extra had landed during filming, his finger still smarted from Luci’s bite, and he couldn’t wait to sink into his hot tub to baby his protesting muscles.

  Hurry. Get this over and kick her out. Job done. Reputation intact.

  “Want to make this good for you, honeysweet.”

  He ran his finger along her slit then dallied, teasing the tiny bundle of nerves, making her arch her hips and cry out in pleasure. His cock pushed against her leg.

  One good thing in this cycle of mishaps.

  Rajah was satisfyingly firm, but still, Ekim hoped his latest lover didn’t notice his lack of competence. He waggled his tongue over her clit and fought a grimace at the shooting pain in his jaw. Difficult to work up the energy to pleasure a woman when he hurt, but the sooner he finished the job, the quicker he’d extricate himself from the female’s clutches. Another satisfied woman. More fuel to add to the rumors and gossip. A happy agent muttering ching-ching and arranging more work for him. He’d head home to his inner city apartment, soak in his hot tub and hide out in solitude.

  “Ekim, darlin’. That feels wonderful.”

  Ekim massaged her nubbin again, running his finger through her scalding honey. Taking a deep breath, he leaned closer. He thrust two fingers inside her pussy and brushed his tongue over her clit in an effort to push her into orgasm.

  Two more swipes of his tongue did the job. Two swishes back and forth that sent waves of protest shooting up his tongue and almost locked his jaw. Ekim rode out the agony in silence, sending up a prayer to Atsugua, the Goddess of safety and health. Grata, he hoped he didn’t have to go on leave with a repetitive strain injury.

  In his out-of-control world—one full of nosy newshounds, a pushy agent and his inflated reputation—making movies was the sole thing that kept him sane, and he loved immersing himself in his roles. It was the other crap that made him want to hide.

  Chapter Two

  Six days later, Dooyllob Studio, Nidni

  “Ekim, would you escort me to the spaceport to meet my friend from Earth?”

  Why was she asking him? Ekim studied his sister’s innocent expression, and warning tingled to life. That expression smacked of secrets and unspoken information—never a good thing where Rala was concerned. He opened his mouth to refuse, then paused as he recalled the curvy redhead vid-actress he’d seen skulking near his dressing room earlier. She’d winked suggestively on making eye contact and mouthed, “Later.”

  His agent thought the excess women good business and made sure he had a ready supply of beauties to keep the publicity machine rolling. Your reputation as Nidni’s greatest lover and most eligible bachelor is big business. I have vid-cam offers up the wazoo. Ching-ching!

  Ekim winced. He was sexed out, his frustration levels as big as Mt. McKombo, the highest mountain on the planet of Nidni. This morning’s lover, arranged by his agent, had left him weak and shuddering but unfulfilled. Rajah had enjoyed being inside her mouth—the medicine men’s drugs had helped with that—although he hadn’t climaxed. Instead, he’d pleasured the woman in order to hurry the situation along. Now a sense of emptiness, a load of loneliness bore down on his shoulders, and while he hadn’t bothered asking her name, her perfume had left a lasting impression.

  He dabbed his weeping eyes and fought the tickle of his nose. It didn’t work. An explosive sneeze burst from him, a second increasing his misery. The woman deserved an award for perseverance. Despite his allergic reaction, she’d seized Rajah. She’d wanted more, dammit, when poor Rajah had wanted to rest.

  Luckily, a stagehand had knocked on his door, telling him his presence was required on the set. He’d left before the woman had demanded full vaginal penetration.

  Ekim plucked at his shirt, fingers pleating and releasing the fabric, uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts. He had no idea why Rajah refused to maintain an erection long enough to do a proper job. He’d consulted medicine man after medicine man. Mage after mage. They’d prescribed potions, delicacies to imbibe, lotions to rub on, washes to soak in, and even suggested he give his cock a name—Rajah—to give him more importance, but nothing changed the facts. Every time he attempted full penetration with a woman, Rajah turned limp.

  A bad joke at his expense.

  Nidni’s greatest lover couldn’t get it up. The man with the honorary title of Nidni’s greatest lover was a virgin.

  Well, technically.

  “Ekim, are you listening to me?”

  “My apologies.” Ekim ripped his mind from the worrying subject of sex and focused on his sister. They’d argued so much lately he couldn’t understand why she’d sought him out now. He should head to his apartment now that filming was canceled for a few days due to Tara’s illness. “I should go home and pack since I promised Mama I’d take her to Ynroh Temple.”

  “Is that this cycle end?” Rala frowned. “I thought it was next week.”

  “I had to change the days to fit in with filming. Where’s your companion?”

  Rala pointed at the elderly white-haired woman standing outside the doorway to the visitors’ reception room at the studio. A wizened figure in black robes, she watched each arrival with narrow-eyed scrutiny as if she expected them to attack or spirit her or their possessions away.

&nbs
p; Part of him wanted to hand his sister over to someone else. With her recent soaring moods, his sister was a pain in his backside, and Luci, the little katmer creature she kept as a pet…

  Ekim’s finger stung where Luci had bitten him during dinner, almost a cycle-week ago.

  Luci wasn’t present today, thank the Goddess.

  “Ekim?” A testy note had crept into Rala’s voice.

  “Why can’t Aisha go with you?”

  “I can’t ask her to give up her afternoon off. She’s visiting her daughter and won’t be back until later.”

  Good answer, Ekim thought with grudging approval, but his suspicions remained. Ever since Marisa had cancelled their betrothal, his sister had become increasingly sullen. She blamed him for Marisa’s departure, and after their last blowup when she’d screeched at him and wished a pox on his man parts, it was weird she’d seek him out now. If he hadn’t known better, he’d think Rala had truly gone ahead and acquired a spell to make him suffer, but the truth was, Rajah had proved shy and unwilling long before Rala’s tantrum.

  “Please,” Rala whispered, her brown eyes beseeching and tugging at his guilt. “I know this is short notice but Carly is a cop and doesn’t get much free time. She works a lot of weird shifts.” Her shoulders lifted in a delicate shrug. “You know what it’s like with an unpredictable work schedule. I don’t know if we’ll have another chance to meet. I know they’ve decided to cancel filming while Tara gets over her illness, so you have time. I hadn’t intended to go to Ynroh with Mama, but maybe Carly and I could visit too. She might like to see some of the sights.”

  His sister prattled on, and he tuned out, focusing on the important part of the conversation. A cop from Earth might offer tips for his latest role. The alternative was a sweaty, embarrassing tussle with the woman in his dressing room or hiding in his apartment.

  “All right,” Ekim said.

  “Great.” Rala placed her hand on his forearm. “I think you’ll like Carly. We’ve corresponded for ages, but this is the first time she’s managed a few solar rotations off work.”

  “As long as she doesn’t expect me to jump into bed with her,” Ekim muttered.

  Rala drew herself up tall. “Is sex all you think of?”

  A small brown hand flashed out to strike him over the head. “Ow!” Ekim turned to face Rala’s irate companion. The woman had the hearing of a batkin and moved like a prowling tigoth, sneaking up on a male at the most unfortunate moments. “What did I do?”

  “There is more to life than sex.” She sniffed and looked down her nose at him—a clever trick since she was half his size. “You won’t catch a woman that way. Practice your conversation.”

  “Sorry.” He shrugged, aiming for repentant as he glanced at his sister.

  Rala’s eyes were downcast. A becoming blush stained her cheeks, and guilt struck him mid-chest. His sister had turned into an attractive woman and it was natural for her to resent him since Peti’s laws got in the way of a possible romance and marriage. Family members on Nidni wed in strict birth order. To go against this law would bring down the wrath of the Goddess—a fate worse than death and excess taxes.

  Ekim sympathized—he did—but his life contained stress and diabolical problems. Meeting a woman—a genuine keeper—took effort. The constant parade of female sexual predators was exhausting and not one was worthy of consideration. Then came the newshounds, forever chasing him for a gossipy story.

  Logic told him somewhere there was a woman or women who would enjoy his company, yet his schedule gave him no chance to seek them out in the normal method.

  “Give me five minutes to change.” Ekim turned for the door, but Rala gripped his arm and tugged him to a stop.

  “We don’t have time. Carly’s spaceship arrives at the main port in twenty mins. Grab a disguise to wear until we’re clear of the newshounds loitering outside the studio. Oh, wait! I have a hat in my bag. You can use that.” Rala opened a large black bag covered with yellow flowers, pulled out a floppy blue hat and zipped her bag back up.

  Ekim glanced down at his tight black trousers and knee-high leather boots. A black shirt hugged his chest. With his long hair slicked back, he looked like a criminal or gang boss rather than the undercover law officer he was playing. The hat would clash.

  “All right.” He accepted the hat and yanked the brim down to shade his face. “I hope I don’t scare your friend.”

  “I’m sure Carly will like you,” Rala said. “All my friends swoon over you. Can we go? I’m looking forward to meeting her in person.” Rala tugged him in the direction of the door.

  “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” Rala’s friends, especially en masse, scared him. A trip home the previous rotation had coincided with a visit from the bevy of young women. Sly pincher fingers had marked his bottom with bruises, and he’d endured an embarrassing session in the makeup department the next day to cover the blemishes. “Not if she’s like your other friends.”

  “Ekim, please. I promise she won’t fall at your feet. She’s…different from my other friends, which is why I like her.”

  “Fine. We’ll leave via the rear exit to avoid the newshounds.”

  “I’ll leave by the front entrance,” Aisha said, popping into the conversation with the stealth of a ghost cat. “Newshounds will assume you stay here with brother.”

  Rala clapped her hands in delight. “Good plan. I like it.”

  “I’ll need to grab my ID card and currency. Won’t take long.” As long as I don’t have any unwelcome visitors in my dressing room.

  They hurried down the stark corridors deep within the building, heading for Ekim’s dressing room. When they approached, his gut started to churn and his steps slowed. Hoping like hell the loitering woman he’d seen earlier hadn’t bribed security and broken into his dressing room, he punched in the code. He cautiously opened the door and heaved a relieved grunt on finding his haven blessedly silent and empty.

  “Hurry,” Rala grumbled. “You know how long the rickshaw ride takes to the spaceport even with the new supercharged droids pulling them.”

  Ekim grabbed his ID, a handful of gold coins and his credit band off a junk-strewn counter. As he thrust the band onto his wrist, a small white envelope snagged his attention. More fan mail left by his dresser or another nasty proposition? He stuffed the envelope in his pocket to read later.

  The back exit was free of newshounds. Ekim strode from the building and onto the street. A hire driver leaned against a large lill tree in the shade, his red-and-gold rickshaw parked and ready to hire. Ekim put two fingers to his lips and blew a piercing whistle. Acknowledging his signal with a casual wave, the rickshaw droid trotted over to them, his matching metal body a dazzling red and gold in the bright light of summer.

  Perfume from the large, white flowers festooning the lill trees that lined the street filled every breath. Ekim coughed, trying to forestall the building sneeze. It reminded him of the last woman who’d tormented him in his bed. She’d made him sneeze too.

  “Luckily I brought my parasol. Aisha will subject me to citrine and ass milk baths for a week if I catch the sun. She treats freckles like a plague and says men dislike them. Do you think this is true?”

  Ekim listened to his sister’s chatter with half an ear while he worried about the contents of the envelope in his pocket. He helped her into the rickshaw and climbed in beside her.

  The driver started at a trot, paused at an intersection and turned onto the main thoroughfare. He spotted a gap in the traffic and darted into it, smoothly switching to city speed.

  The increased wind velocity tore Rala’s parasol from her grasp and it sailed into the air. “Damn! That was my favorite one. Why couldn’t you have summoned a covered rickshaw?”

  “Language,” he scolded but without heat.

  An indignant shriek rippled from behind them, and Ekim glanced over his shoulder. He grinned with unholy delight. “Ha! That will teach the nosy newshound. Your parasol hit Nisha Storrisome square in
the kisser.” The rail-thin woman shook her fist, her gold bangles chattering like Rala’s katmer in a bad temper. Ekim punched his fist in the air. “Good shot.” In his exuberance, he released his hold on the brim of his hat down and it sailed off his head, disappearing across the top of a juice stall.

  Rala looked behind, her smooth brow creased in a frown. “Now they’ve recognized you, and they’re gonna chase us. Botheration, I wanted to talk to you.”

  “So talk.”

  “But they might have listening devices trained on our rickshaw.” She muttered a curse that raised Ekim’s brows.

  “I don’t think that’s anatomically possible,” he said.

  “You would know,” Rala snapped back. “You being Nidni’s greatest lover and pinup boy.”

  If only she knew. Ekim would give anything to have a normal relationship. Maybe the last medicine man he’d consulted on the neighboring planet of Indus had been correct. His giant reputation was the cause of his disastrous symptoms, and Rajah’s failure to rise to the occasion was all in his mind. Ekim scowled. He didn’t like the theory any better now than when he’d heard it straight from the medicine man.

  “In order for the newshounds to listen they’d need to keep pace with our rickshaw. This driver seems new and competent, but it’s probably best to wait until we reach the spaceport.”

  Rala grunted in reply.

  Their rickshaw raced down the main highway, increasing speed even more, the driver’s legs flashing in a red-gold blur. Their route bypassed the main market area and took them through the upper class housing development with its large mansions and high fences. On leaving the confines of the city gates, the buildings gave way to trees and a lake. The driver raced into hyperspeed, making communication more difficult.

  Since they couldn’t talk, Ekim gave in to the impulse to read the contents of the envelope he’d found in his office. He pulled the envelope from his pocket, prepared to open it when a strident chatter drew his attention. “Did you bring your bloody katmer with you?”