by Alana Khan
Sky display? I have no idea, but by the look on his face—like he’s eight years old and he’s about to get a birthday present—I’m not going to say no.
He almost catches my hand to pull me along with him, but jams his hand in his pocket and says, “Come on.”
Whatever a sky display is, it looks like everyone in the park is on their way to watch it. People are packed against a spiked metal fence that surrounds an enormous lake.
A reverberating boom sounds from across the water. Fear lances through me as every muscle in my body tenses. Amrus, the male who owned me most recently, was a kingpin in an intergalactic crime syndicate. We were attacked twice when I was with him. The sound of weapon-fire fills me with terror—my eyes flare wide and my heart races.
Thantose turns when he realizes I’m no longer at his side, then runs the few feet separating us. I’m still in a panicked crouch.
“Brin, my apologies. That noise is part of the sky display. You’re safe.”
He lifts me gently, his hands on my waist and pulls me to him, his arms around me. “I had no idea you would . . .”
Of course he wouldn’t. How would he know I’ve been in shootouts?
He releases my waist, leans back, and gives me a serious once-over. “Want to leave?”
I glance across the lake and see a dazzling picture in the sky. Brilliant lights, like neon times a hundred, depict a six-legged horse-like mronck. The floating image moves with realism as all six legs run across the pitch-black sky. It’s breathtaking. And safe.
“No. I want to stay.” I’m going to find that ‘no-fear’ place again. I’m going to watch the sky display with Thantose.
He grabs my hand and pulls me to the edge of the crowd, but we’re so far back, and the average Primian is so much taller than me, I won’t be able to see much even though the display is in the sky.
The mronck finally stops running, the sky goes dark for a moment, then there’s another boom. It’s hard to see the sky display with all the people in the way. It’s either a multi-colored bird, or a reptile—I can’t make it out.
Thantose crouches in front of me, looking in the same direction as me. “Climb on my back,” he shouts over his shoulder to be heard above the oohs and ahhs of the crowd.
Oh my. Serious choice-point here. Either stand paralyzed behind him while he waits to do a nice thing for me, or trust him and hop on his back.
Trust. I’m not long on it. But I’m getting better. I want to trust Thantose, and I want to have fun, drack it.
I fumble forward and put my hands on his shoulders. He captures my legs with his arms, hefts me onto his back, and a moment later I’m riding him piggyback.
Now I’m a head taller than almost everyone here. The amazing pink, purple, and gold bird flaps its gorgeous wings and flies across the sky.
My hands naturally drape across his shoulders. My attention is drawn from the sky display to the warm male underneath me.
My kimono has been chastely wrapped around me all night. One of the reasons I love to wear them is they cover me from neckline to ankles. Now, however, the fabric is hiked up so my thighs can straddle the sturdy body underneath me.
My panty-covered slit is riding his t-shirt clad waist. I can feel his heat through both layers of cloth. I sit up higher, moving my hands from the warmth of his chest—it seemed too dangerous. Now, although my palms are chastely on his head, I can think of little else than how intimate this position feels.
Primians have no hair. His skull is warm and smooth. I’ve imagined touching his head like this since I began fantasizing about him months ago.
The park lights have been turned off for the display, the bird has disappeared, and the sky’s gone dark. The pitch-black makes this moment even more intimate. My pulse pounds between my legs as my desire for Thantose ramps higher.
This must be the last display, because the next boom signals the Primian flag. It takes up a huge quadrant of the night sky and is waving, every stripe on the flag moving in minute detail.
I lean forward and peek at T’s face. Did I just invent a nickname for him? I love it. I’d love to speak that name, feel it on my lips. His friends and crew call him Thantose or captain. His mom calls him TT. I want to call him T. It’s what a lover should call him.
I blush, but my train of thought keeps going. Glancing down, I can’t tear my eyes from his handsome face. I adore the fierce markings. How, I wonder, would those powerful designs look when the muscles in his face soften after he makes love to me?
I need to stop the direction of my mind. He’ll smell my arousal.
The flag finally stops waving and the fairgrounds are again pitch black. Thantose slides me down his back. Is it just me, or is he doing this slowly on purpose? The way he’s canted forward, the tips of my breasts are pressed against his back for my entire trip to the ground.
While it’s still pitch black, he steps forward, chastely separating us. When the lights come on, I catch a glimpse of him rearranging himself in his pants. My glance darts over the lake, I don’t want him to know I saw him do that.
We both have a secret. I’m certain he smelled my arousal—all Primians have the ability to do that, I guess it’s an evolutionary advantage. I must have some effect on him as well.
We meander for a moment. I’m not certain where we’re going next, and he doesn’t seem to know, either.
“The firing range!” he shouts as we walk near the midway. “I want my money back.”
He pulls my hand and takes off down the main aisle of the games. He’s a male on a mission
“What are you talking about?” I’m breathless trying to keep up with one passionate Primian.
“I haven’t been here for decades, but when I was younger, the shooting range was rigged. I want another go at it.”
“It’s probably still rigged. Isn’t that the nature of these places?”
“I’m a crack shot, Brin. I’ll figure out how it’s rigged and beat it. And I’ll win you a prize.”
Zing! His words shouldn’t affect me like this, but him wanting to win me a present brings a smile to my face.
“Ah, the scene of the crime. I remember this place as if it were yesterday,” he says through clenched teeth.
I’ll have to remember he has a long memory and a penchant for revenge, although for the life of me, I don’t know how spending money at this booth will exact revenge on the twenty-year-old male working it.
He pays his credits, inspects the rifle, then turns to me, his face calm and concerned. “Will the sounds bother you, Brin? I don’t want to upset you.”
He sets the rifle on the booth counter and walks over to me. “We could walk away right now. I can get revenge another day.”
“Don’t be crazy. I want a prize,” I demand.
“Which one?”
I consider every stuffed animal in the booth. There are tiny ones—we used to call them ‘hand babies’ in my house because they fit in your hand—all the way up to huge creatures that are as tall as me.
One of the humongous ones looks just like Brawny. “That one.” I point. I’m glad I know Thantose has thousands of credits worth of booty in his hold. It might take that much for him to win Brawny for me because we know the game is rigged.
“I’m going to win your prize if it takes all night.” He flashes me a smile. “Prepare to be dazzled.” With that, he pulls off the black t-shirt he’s wearing, picks up the rifle, and draws a little pretend waterfowl into his sights.
Not fair, Thantose. So. Not. Fair. As if there wasn’t enough sexual tension in our ‘friendly’ trip to the amusement park, now he’s flaunting his shirtless torso? Does he really need the additional range of motion from removing his shirt? Or does he know how much I want to see all that naked skin?
Primians have white and black markings on their bodies. I’ve always wondered what he looked like under his clothes. My mouth feels dry as my fingers itch to trace the whorls on his back. My hormones have been on overload for so long tonigh
t, I don’t know whether I’m more horny, desperate, or grumpy.
I use one of the skills my therapist taught me—be in the moment. I quit focusing on what I don’t have. I focus on handsome T. And handsome T is picking off the innocent plastic waterfowl like nobody’s business. Ten minutes later, I’m dragging one humongous Brawny bear-thing with me through the fairgrounds.
“Tired?” he asks.
I’m not certain what to say. Is it a trick question? If I’m tired do we have to go home? I’m having too much fun. Me, Brin, I’m having fun!
“Well, even if you are,” he says since I haven’t answered yet, “we can’t leave until we have goozwell.”
“Animal, vegetable, or mineral?” I ask.
“Dessert,” he says with a flash of his white teeth. The conspiratorial glance he beams at me exaggerates his rakish pirate look. I’m not sure why that makes my core clench, but it does.
We stroll to the food booths, the smell of chocolate and caramel bombarding me. Every step we take gets us closer to the intense, wonderful smell. What’s better than chocolate? In Brin’s world, there’s only one answer . . . caramel.
He orders one large goozwell, and carries it to a small metal outdoor table with two tiny chairs. It’s hard to quantify, but if I had to describe it, it’s kind of waffley on the bottom with ice cream, and then dipped in liquid cookie dough, flash fried and drizzled with gobs of caramel and chocolate. The smell alone could put you in a diabetic coma. And oh my God, it tastes divine.
There’s something about the delicious, sugary confection, and sitting so close to my happy pirate that demolishes all my inhibitions.
“Mission accomplished, T.” My eyes flare open. I can’t believe I just called him my new nickname out loud. It didn’t seem to phase him, though.
“What’s that, B?” If anything, he’s smiling more broadly.
“You said you wanted to be friends. I’d be friends with the devil himself if he shared a large goozwell with me.” Did I just wink at him? Perhaps the goozwell has opium in it.
“I’ll have to remember that. I’ll start all my nefarious schemes right here at the Goozwell Superior Confections stand.” He winks back.
He said we couldn’t be lovers, but we could be friends. That wouldn’t be the end of the world. T is a super nice male.
~.~
Brin
“I’ve transferred three million credits into an account in your name, Brin. Here’s the card. That’s the most I’m willing to pay. I hope the bidding doesn’t get that high,” Valeria says.
We’re at a small mosaic table in her sunny breakfast room. I’ve come to love the sumra, a noodle dish in a sweet, milky sauce we have every morning.
“Ready to go?” Thantose breezes in, a small backpack in hand.
“I’m all packed,” I tell him. “Valeria, thanks for all the clothes you provided. Remind me why I’ll need ball gowns. It’s just an auction, right?”
“Did I not explain it properly?” She clears her throat. “A woman named Ivid wrote the Meris over a thousand annums ago. She hand-lettered two hundred copies during her lifetime, complete with illustrations.
“The book grew in popularity over the centuries and now copies of it are frequently given to couples on their mating day. They’re often passed down from mother to daughter. But the original volumes are very rare—and quite sought after.
“In fact, owning one is like being a member of an exclusive club. Not only do you need to have the credits to buy it, but the existing owners also want to get to know you and approve of you.
“That’s one of the reasons I want you to go in my stead. I think they’d deem me too old and not worthy of the book.
“Ivid lived and wrote the book on her home planet, Virago. It’s a female-dominated planet where there are no free males, only slaves.
“All business dealings, land holdings, and affairs of state are conducted by females. You’ll be expected to have at least one male slave by your side. That’s where TT comes in. Here’s the schedule. You can’t let your guard down for a moment. Every female who talks to you will be vetting you.
“And TT, she’ll fail if you’re disobedient.” She casts her son a reproachful look.
“Brin,” Thantose asks, “certainly acting as a slave owner won’t be easy for you. Attending parties? Prancing me around like a pet on a leash? Are you certain you want to do this?”
“I thought about it and discussed it with my therapist,” I tell him earnestly. “I think it can be a growth experience. I want to prove to myself I can handle challenges.”
“Okay.” He nods his head. I guess I overcame his objections.
“Oh, by the way, here.” Valeria hands him a small, beautifully-wrapped package. “You’ll need this.”
Thantose rips through the paper and pulls out two scraps of cloth that have been . . . bejeweled. I don’t think they’re rhinestones, they look like precious gems.
He holds them up. “Loincloths? Seriously, Ahma? Why am I surprised, I should have guessed.”
“And a pain/kill collar. It’s deactivated.” It hangs from her extended index finger as if it will bite.
Thantose gives her a look that could kill.
“I love you, TT. You’re such a good son to do this for me.” She kisses his forehead, then spears me with a look of pure affection. “And you, Brin, I know you didn’t have to do this. Getting this book is my lifelong dream.”
“We’ll try our best,” I tell her, “three million credits worth.”
Valeria leaves us alone in the cozy room and for a moment Thantose eyes the door through which his mother left as if he could set it on fire with his gaze.
“Are you going to be okay with this?” he asks. “It’s a lot to ask of you. Parties. Slaves. Leashes. Loincloths. I think you’d be justified in saying no. Just say the word.”
“Why did you agree to do it, Thantose?”
“I love her. She’s done a lot for me. I want to make her happy,” he says simply. “And you?” he asks.
“I like your mom, and I want to prove to myself I can do this.” What I don’t say is that if I had three million credits I’d spend them all to be in a small vessel with Thantose for the better part of a week. In bed after the amusement park, I dreamed of his hands on me. I’d give anything if it wasn’t a dream.
I think about last night, the aborted kiss, the warmth of his hand on the small of my back, the deep timbre of his voice, and his slashing pirate smile. I want the next week with him.
I have strength inside me. I discovered it in captivity. How hard will it be to go to a few parties, deal with some mean girls, and pretend Thantose is my slave?
Chapter Three
Thantose
“Tawny, it’s Thantose.” I comm the Ataraxia a moment after we launch for Virago. “I know I promised you a break while I’m off on this search for an obscure book, but I’m asking a favor.
“I should have tried harder to sell our treasures, I was just having too much fun accumulating more. The time has come to quit hoarding our booty and sell it. I borrowed the money for the Ataraxia from my ahma, but I don’t want to be beholden to her anymore. Now would be the perfect time for you to finish conducting your inventory and sell everything. I’m thinking of putting it all into one big auction on Carden II. Think you could pull it all together while I’m gone?”
“Sure, Thantose. Dev and I haven’t left the Ataraxia. We’re just hanging around; neither of us have much to do on Primus. I’d be happy to help. What do you want me to sell?”
“Anything saleable. I want to pay off the new ship and have some working capital for an idea I have.”
“Is anything off-limits?”
“You can sell anything down to the pots and pans if it will pay the bills.”
“Got it. So, any time after you get back from your very-important-book-buying-mission will do?”
“The sooner the better, thanks. Say hi to Dev for me.”
“He’s right here, we’re
snuggling in bed. Be safe.”
I’m glad my cousin found such a warm, loving female. He’s been through so much; he deserves all the happiness he can get—they both do.
“Okay, Brin.” I’m in my captain’s chair and I turn to her in the first mate’s chair to my right. “I can’t imagine the slave-owner thing is going to be easy for you, but we have to discuss it. Let’s get the hard stuff out of the way and then enjoy this trip as much as possible.”
We review slave-owner protocol: when and how to address your slave, how to offer me food and drink when we’re in public, and so on. She was a slave for a decade; she knew everything already.