Beth's Stable

by Amanda Milo

  Beth jumps—but before she can get self-conscious this time, I smirk at Prow. “You scum-talk me for a bit of lace, yet you’re fancying fragrances?”

  Prow sends a sidelong peek at Beth’s reaction, and plays this up to keep her engaged. “Way to shame a man, Oquilion. No wonder I have to keep my recreational diversions a secret.”

  “Not secret enough, Koundy,” I mutter—and Beth chokes.

  “Ah, so you’ve heard of the infamous Vera incident,” Prow groans. “Narrra—let me explain.”

  “Oh no—the way we tell the story is so much better,” I assure him, drawing Beth closer to me, as if that will prevent him from corrupting her with some rational explanation for our sex droid giving us orders to be ridden harder—in his voice. If I have anything to do with it, he will never live the day down.

  Prow yanks her—gently—into his arms, pulling her right out of mine. “Beth, would you do me the honor of being my model for finding the perfect perfume? Something that will drive men wild.”

  I widen my eyes at Prow. “All our interactions to this point are suddenly taking on new context.”

  Beth’s holding her stomach, chortling against her will. “Pee break! Stop making me laugh, we need to make another pee break!”

  It’s a good thing she empties, because she laughs the entire time she helps Prow pick out the scent he loves best on her. To make it very clear when they find the right one, as soon as Beth holds it up on her multi-scent-sprayed arm for his inspection, Prow grabs Beth’s cheeks and drags her up on her toes for a kiss, forcing her to brace against him, her hands planted on either side of his fat chest.

  “These muscles,” she breathes when she pulls back.

  “Mine are nicer,” I lie.

  Beth dutifully moves into my arms and evaluates my chest muscles. “Stunning,” she pronounces, but adds, “Both of you.”

  I chuff at her and Prow smirks—but Beth—my mate, at last—grins up at me affectionately, and this entire day (the cockpainter stand retelling somehow included) may be the best day I’ve ever had.

  CHAPTER 37—OQUILION

  OQUILION

  THE NEXT ROTATION…

  (In humanspeak: the next morning.)

  I stroll into the galley—and out of nowhere, Prow socks me in the jaw.

  Beth gasps, teetering as she tries to leap up from the table.

  Prow reaches out and steadies her.

  “It’s fine,” I assure her when I see she’s staring at me, worried.

  Still standing over me, Prow’s rueful as he admits, “I nearly pissed myself laughing.”

  Beth grumbles to herself, sounding confounded, “He says he laughed, and yet he still hits his friend? Men are so mean to each other!”

  I push myself to my feet, wave to Beth, who looks more than a little alarmed—and a lot confused.

  Still, I can’t help but send Prow a smug grin—and then I wince, checking my teeth. “Thank tevek your hit was a little padded,” I goad him.

  “I will shove you out of this ship,” Prow warns.

  I assure Beth, “It’s all right—this is all in good-natured fun.”

  “The hells it is,” Prow argues, but he’s having trouble smothering his smile.

  “Okay,” Beth huffs. “What’s going on with you two?” Almost defeatedly, she sits back down.

  Prow brings up his hand sharply, stabbing it at my face to really illustrate his predicament.

  I start laughing. I don’t care if he breaks my jaw.

  Prow’s got shiny, satiny fabric stuck fast to two of his fingers, and a thumb.

  “Last night,” I try to say—but I’m chuckling so hard I’m not sure if Beth can make out my words, “I stole your new perfume and sprayed it in front of Prow’s door.”

  “You stole my perfume, and sprayed it on Prow’s door…” Beth repeats slowly.

  Prow is giving me a dead-eyed glare. “And then he knocked on my door—tell her the rest, teveker.”

  “I dashed around the corner—and waited. Prow opens his door to find the pretty panties I bought for you sitting on the floor with a note. He picks them up—and—and they stick to his hand!”

  By this time, I’m dying, but Prow’s kind enough to finish the story for me. “So I’m innocently answering the door, I smell Beth, I find she’s playfully teasing me—and I no more than move to collect my little prize when I find I’ve just superglued a pair of panties to my fingers.”

  Beth covers her mouth.

  Prow’s lips are pursed. “The note under them read, “GOTCHA, KOUNDY.”

  Behind both her hands, Beth makes an unladylike guffaw.

  Prow holds up his messed up fingers. “I tried to remove the panties in full. I hacked them into ribbons, determined not to wear women’s underwear around you lot today—but there was no removing the area where the glue held the fibers to my skin.”

  When we’re done having a good laugh—one where Prow heartily joins in with us—the two of us join Beth at the table. At first, our morning scuffle had her concerned, but there was no trace of embarrassment for her tiny show of anxiety this time around when Prow started pounding the piss out of my face.

  It’s cog-damned wonderful progress, and we enjoy a companionable silence right up until Prow tries to eat finger food for his morning meal.

  Beth pats him on the back. “Look on the bright side! At least somebody gets to wear panties around here.”

  Prow’s stops, his food forgotten mid-bite. “You’re not wearing panties?” His eyes sink down the line of her body like his gaze is lead weighted.

  Beth snaps her fingers and says dryly, “Eyes up here.”

  “S-sorry,” Prow stammers. “It’s just—I’m just not sure how I’m going to get any work done now that I know this. Tevek.”

  Beth blooms scarlet, but she smiles broadly at the compliment, just as Prow intended.

  I clap him on the back, ignoring how he violently tries to shrug me off. “Well now—if you find you need to cover her in order to concentrate, you can always give her what’s left of your pair.”

  The sound of Beth’s laughter is definitely worth the loose teeth.

  CHAPTER 38—BETH

  BETH

  Still chuckling at Oquilion and Prow’s antics, I part ways with them after breakfast. I actually experience a rare moment of being alone on this ship filled with men.

  Somewhere, there are alienwomen, sure. But the ladies we rescued are sort of like cats—exploring silently and hiding from everybody.

  As much as I don’t want them cozying up to any of my guys, my crew, I do want them to be comfortable. I hope they feel safe.

  A hidden supply closet shoots open and I’m yanked inside.

  “AHH!” I gasp before a hand closes over my mouth.

  Qolt’s voice hits the back of my ear as he rasps, “Miss me?”

  There’s enough light in here that I can see the dimensions of this tiny space we’re occupying. And then I realize—the light is being cast by Vera’s eyes. Oh how creepy! I balk a little, but Qolt doesn’t let go of me. Finally, I give up trying to escape, and I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart.

  He must take this to mean I’m relaxed about this. He removes his fingers enough for me to hiss, “Qolt—!” but at my admonishment, his big hand covers my mouth again, pinning my lips against my teeth with enough force that I can’t make words, and my eyes go wide in reaction.

  Qolt brings his other hand up from my hip, sliding it up until he’s cupping my throat. He tugs back until I’m viewing him upside down, my forehead practically planted into the heat of his chest, and he stealth-kisses me. It is, damn him, one heck of a kiss. When he pulls up, his eyes have gone black, the barest ring of iris framing them in otherworldly molten steel. He sighs, his gaze searching mine. “You know I love it when you say my name. But you have to understand: I can’t have you screaming for help, narra.”

  My excited shivers should turn to dark chills. I think they would too, but he starts stroking my hai
r out of my face and his action confuses my insides so that I’m hit with happy chills and chest headlights.

  He releases my throat, slowly backing his hand away, straight out in front of me. My eyes snag on his wrist.

  The bruise from the hickey I gave him is as dark as the day I sucked on him.

  Evidently following my gaze, Qolt turns his wrist to catch better in the glow. “I keep it dark to remind myself of you.”

  The memory of him biting himself before he went treasure hunting replays in my mind.

  “You’re my happy thought, Beth,” Qolt tells me roughly. “Never come harder than when I'm sucking my own wrist, remembering you doing it.”

  The area between my legs clenches. But this is nothing compared to what’s happening in my heart.

  Suddenly, Qolt’s nostrils flare again, and the grey in his eyes expands a fraction, his gaze sharpening on me even more, impossibly so. “Don’t panic, Beth,” tells me, his tone lightly commanding, the way you’d remind your cat not to jump on the counter when there’s company coming. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just going to make you feel good. That means no struggling so hard you hurt yourself or your little passenger. I’m going to lift my hand now. Don’t scream.”

  Is he serious?

  The moment his hand let’s up its pressure, I fill my lungs with air.

  Qolt’s hand closes over my lips again. “Naughty narra,” he tsks, and something in his eyes makes the backs of my knees tingle strangely. “I’m going to have to punish you.”

  All of my sexy feelings grind to a halt.

  And that’s a shame. I was starting to maybe look forward to Qolt getting it on with me. He’s hot, and this was scary-hot for about thirty seconds. Now?

  Qolt suddenly goes still too, his gaze scanning me head to toe. “Whoever taught you to be afraid had better be dead.”

  Odds are good he’s still alive, but ha—if my ex tries to look for me now, this time he finally, finally won’t be able to find me. I bet he’s furious.

  The door is ripped open, and I crane my neck to see Prow. He takes one look at us and growls, “Ekan is going to KILL you. Lights,” he orders, and a single orb, brighter than what Vera gives off, illuminates the little space as he stalks inside.

  Qolt sounds like he’s crocodile-grinning to Prow. “Nice fingers.”

  Prow’s poor fabric-glued fingers do some sort of flicking motion I’m willing to bet he wouldn’t do in front of his mother. “Rut. Off,” he warns.

  “That was the plan.” Qolt’s arm slowly moves over and down my belly, lazy-stroking. “And how did you appear at just the right time to save Beth?”

  Prow eyes him. “I was stalking Beth.” He catches my eye-roll of (yeah, okay, pretty much feigned) disapproval. “What?” he says, voice lighter as he gives me an unrepentant smirk. “Oquilion’s stalking you too. He just doesn’t think he’s been caught yet.”

  Outside the door, Oquilion sighs.

  The corridor’s track lights spill in as Oquilion steps inside, offering everyone a diffused orange shadow for a brief moment until he closes the door behind himself. The four of us are crammed together, with Vera, her eyes staring sightlessly and glowing too eerily for my comfort. Prow and Oquilion are giving Qolt meaningful looks, but nobody speaks.

  Oquilion, unlike Prow, looks incredibly sympathetic. “Qolt, I understand you’re struggling. I’ve seen this before. I don’t know how much you overheard or recall, but one of my koundreth’s received a significant head injury, so I know you may be having trouble with headaches, and with processing your actions—”

  Prow scoffs. “If he can lie in wait for Beth in a closet, he’s doing FINE—well, not fine-fine, but—”

  Rolling my eyes at the three of them, I wriggle out of Qolt’s hold, squeeze past Prow and Oquilion, and escape into the hallway for some much-needed space and peace.

  To my surprise, Tiernan’s passing by. “Beth?” he says—also clearly surprised, because him and Ekan are the only ones who weren’t stalking me, apparently.

  Nefarious Na’riths.

  At my back, the closet opens and three pirates emerge.

  Tiernan’s brows crawl right up his head.

  “Whatever you’re thinking,” Oquilion starts.

  “We weren't—” Prow stammers.

  Qolt crosses his arms and glower-smirks. It’s something that he does very effectively, and honestly, you can’t tell if he’s ever had a compromising situation in his life, despite the fact he’s been caught in them twice today by Prow and Oquilion and now Tiernan. At no time has he been flustered.

  Tiernan holds up a hand. “Stop. I don’t want to hear whatever you jacklegs have to say. Beth?” He offers me his arm. “Do you want to get away from… whatever it is these three are up to this time?”

  I give a delicate sniff. “I would love to. Thanks, Tiernan.”

  Tiernan sweetly takes my hand and swiftly guides me away from the troublemakers, their protests following us down the hall stridently.

  I glance up at Tiernan. The moment we’ve turned the corridor corner and they can’t see him, he gives me a warm look that breaks into an evil grin.

  CHAPTER 39—BETH

  BETH

  That night, Oquilion answers his door looking wary—I think because he’s expecting Prow to have involved me in some sort of trickery or set up.

  But nope. “I’m here because I want to be here,” I tell him.

  I’m not gonna lie: the fact that Oquilion’s in this thing called a mate-lock? I’m really digging the whole concept. I’m not saying the man deserves an award for abstaining per se—and yet... hearing he’s been waiting for the chance to be with his one true female makes my heart thump all sorts of crazy. Even when he didn’t have the barest clue of when, or where, or if he’d ever find his mate, he waited for her.

  He waited for me.

  I like Oquilion: he’s funny, he’s playful, he’s considerate.

  And… he’s mine. I can have him whenever I want.

  I happen to want. “May I come in?”

  Oquilion shakes himself, standing taller. “Yes, please. Yes.” His wide chest expands big, and falls hard. He’s breathing deeper; the pulse in his throat is becoming particularly noticeable.

  Slowly, belly way out ahead of me, I stroll into his room, enjoying the excited tension that socks me along my spine as he shuts the door in my wake. I turn slowly, facing him, and his eyes lift from where he was checking out my bare back.

  Or my butt in this skirt that would do a Stripper Barbie set proud.

  My breath catches when I watch Oquilion’s outstretched fingers draw into fists with iron-willpower as he harnesses himself, pulling on what looks like a considerable amount of control so that he doesn’t grab for me.

  “You’ve forgiven me for earlier?” he asks with a slight smile, but his eyes search mine.

  If I hadn’t, his genuine appreciation would go a long way towards thawing my feelings on the matter. “I’m getting used to you stalking me and plotting my abduction for your nefarious purposes.” I finger the edge of my top, this one scalloped, with leather laces that crisscross each breast.

  The laces are a nice touch: they have no justification except to make the eye bounce back and forth over each one. They’re working for Oquilion’s eyes for sure, and I enjoy a deeply satisfying thrill, watching him watch me. “You have no idea how many nefarious purposes I’d like to abduct you for,” he says to the spot I’m grazing with my fingertip.

  Although he tries twice to lift his gaze back to mine, the way I start to run my fingers across my chest proves too great a temptation for him to look away from. His eyes fasten to the exposed swells of my breasts, and I can feel them grow fuller under his heated stare.

  When he reaches out to touch, I catch my lip with my teeth so that I don’t moan.

  “May I?” he asks, his voice rough.

  To show him I’d like this very much, I knit our fingers and bring him up so we’re both touching me together. I
keep the pressure light, not sure how sensitive I am.

  Oh, I’m sensitive, but I love Oquilion’s touch. I expect him to compliment me by offering the obligatory-but-welcome ‘You’re so pretty,’ or maybe even ‘You’re beautiful.’

  Instead, he shocks me by blurting: “I want to bite these.”

  Then his eyes skitter to mine; horror reflected in his gaze.

  I don’t think he meant to confess that.

  Rapidly tripping over himself, he tries to explain. “Uh, that’d be gently—just to taste them, not to puncture, you understand—the natural elasticity of skin gathered against my teeth and gums is a unique experience that I’ve often fantasized about with your generous pair of two as opposed to the singles I’ve enjoyed which were nice, but—but I thought it might be a welcome—”

  “Oquilion,” I cut in, not trying to hide my smile. “I get what you mean—and I’d love it if you’d nom my boobs.”

  He blinks. “Nom…” But then he nods. “Thank you.”

  I bite back a grin. “Anytime.”

  Fire lights his gaze. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  The mental picture hits me of Oquilion cornering me just to lick and suck my breasts where they puff over the lip of whatever bra-band I’m wearing, like they’re his personal, edible muffin tops.

  There’s a reverent sort of awe in his voice and in his hands as he traces his fingers over my skin like I might not be real, or really his. “You’re so beautiful.”

  Well there it is—and in this moment, especially under his gaze, under his hands, I feel beautiful. “Thank you. You’re crazy handsome.”

  He startles. “I thank you in return.”

  I reach behind me and unlock the clasp to my top. “Want to get started on that boob-loving you promised?”

  Words apparently failing him, Oquilion’s adam’s apple bobs hard with his swallow, and he nods.

  I drop my top.

  Oquilion sucks in a hiss before he lunges for me, hands cupping under my heavy, swelled breasts.