by Emma Alisyn
The enormity of it punched her in the gut. She needed those monthly payments- didn’t want to go into a work gang while applying for skills programs. For a second she struggled to breathe.
Warm hands on her shoulders. “Mila, take a deep breath. Calm down.”
She turned in his arms, balled up her fist and socked him in the chest.
He blinked, then smiled. “You’re feeling much better. That’s good.”
Mila opened her mouth to reply when her cell went off. She fished it out of her pocket, scowling when she saw the number.
Glancing at Jaron, she pushed Accept. “That was some dirty shit you did, Rebecca.”
The doctor smiled. “Good afternoon, Mila. Even though you no longer qualify for the program, I still wanted to check up on you.”
“You can go to hell.”
“If you would consider re-enrolling in our short term stay program, I’m sure I could notify the State that you meet the requirements to continue the survivor’s benefits stipend.”
Mila held the screen up to her nose. “Read my lips. Do you see my lips? Good. No. I’m not letting you experiment with me. You aren’t getting any more blood samples.”
“If you have something to hide-”
“Yeah, my ass, in your face.”
She disconnected the call and look at Jaron, whose eyes were slightly wider than before.
“Well,” he said. “I know being ill suppresses one’s true personality, but I wasn’t quite expecting…” he trailed off as she glared at him.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Never mind, Mila. The next few months should be interesting. Do you feel up to our date tonight?”
Anger fled. “Uh… our date?” Mila cleared her throat, not liking the squeaky sounds emerging.
He stepped closer, matching her when she backed up towards the desk. He really was… tall.
“Remember? You made a promise. I’m collecting.”
6
CHAPTER SIX
He picked her up.
She hadn’t expected him to actually pick her up- her apartment wasn’t far from YETI and they’d always walked everywhere or taken public transportation. She hadn’t even known he had access to a vehicle.
Mila stared at the two seater standing transport in the latest model. Sleek, black all over with tinted windows. As she came close the door slid open, revealing her blue alien.
He should have looked odd, large tip-tilted eyes and tousled blue black hair. The Yadeshi bone structure she could only describe as elfish, like in human fairy tales. Maybe the Yadeshi were the elves. Or the Vulcans.
“Coming?” he asked. “I read I am supposed to emerge from the vehicle and open the door for you- but the door opens on its own, and the book was published nearly 100 years ago, so I was uncertain if it would be considered outdated advice.”
It was the most words she’d ever heard him say in one sentence outside of his medical office. Was he nervous? Looking into his eyes as she stepped into the transport and leaned her back along the rest, she knew he wasn’t nervous. Safety restraints snapped into place and they were off.
“It probably is,” she said. “Besides, opening a door is stupid. It means you think I need help handling simple shit.”
He glanced at her again, after putting the vehicle on auto pilot. “It’s not a sign of deference? We make such gestures for our political elders.”
“That’s different.” Was she really discussing modern day feminism with an alien?
“You look nice.”
He brushed her cheek with a finger, eyes moving along her body. She blushed. She’d come back to the apartment because none of the clothing at YETI was dateish. Not that she owned anything dateish. But between black leggings, glittery flats she’d found at a thrift center years ago, and a black t-shirt edged in lace, she’d managed to clean up a bit. She’d brushed a bit of olive oil into her hair and used some of her meager store of cosmetics, purchased when she’d started looking so haggard at the beginning of her illness.
“Thanks. Where are we going?”
“Downtown. There’s an outdoor concert and wine garden. A festival, I’m told.”
Which meant all kinds of people from different Tiers, wearing different clothes and mingling. She brightened. She’d been afraid he’d take her somewhere nice and she’d look like the kitchen help in comparison. But outdoors at night, her black would blend in and no one would notice. Or care.
“Great,” she said. “I haven’t heard live music in a long time.”
His eyes warmed. “Good.”
***
They sat on a wide grassy lawn, Jaron having purchased a thin blanket from a street vendor near the concert. She’d enjoyed the music, and he’d let her just sit and relax rather than blab at her. But then, Jaron had never been much to talk simply for the sake of talking. They’d argued over politics, history, philosophy- Earth and Yadeshi- but he still never spoke unless there was a point.
She liked that about him. Who wanted a man who didn’t know when to shut up? He surprised her during the concert with a meal, having arranged with a nearby Italian restaurant to send a server with a brown bag filled with containers of salad, pasta and even a lush chocolate dessert.
“It’s amazing the Yadeshi can eat human food,” she said, eyeing him as he packed away a pound of alfredo.
“It required some modifications,” he said. “But I enjoy human food. For the most part. The things you make in your factories are a crime against the universe, however.”
She couldn’t disagree, especially since the pasta tasted handmade. It didn’t have the processed, machine cut look of grocery store stuff.
After the concert they continued to sit, sipping wine and watching as people gradually left the area for the blocks where all the restaurants and clubs were waiting to absorb the traffic.
Mila watched people wander, laughing and nibbling bites of street food when a flash of blue caught her eye. Blue was guaranteed to catch any human’s attention these days, though.
Mila blinked, squinting as the couple slowly came closer. They hadn’t noticed her and Jaron yet- though plenty of people had their eyes both on Mila and her date, and now the new human-Yadeshi pair.
“Is that Gayle?” Jaron asked.
Well, she had to believe her eyes, but she didn’t really want to. “And... Adekhan Ithann.”
“Intriguing.” Cool interest in Jaron’s tone. “One hopes Gayle knows what she is doing.”
Mila saw the minute her best friend notched them. A huge grin broke out on Gaye’s face and she grabbed Ithann’s hand, dragging him forward in her mad sprint.
“This should be fun,” Jaron murmured.
Mila didn’t quite agree.
“Mila! Great minds and all that. We could have done a double date.”
Jaron coughed at the same moment Ithann said “I think not.”
The men exchanged stiff nods while Gayle threw herself into the grass next to Mila, eyeing the mostly empty plate of appetizers next to Mila.
“Avoli Osteria,” Gayle said. “Dope.”
Only a High Tier woman would recognize fancy food just from the crumbs. It amused Mila anyway. For some reason her and Gayle just clicked, despite their vastly different backgrounds. A poor girl in and out of foster homes as her mother struggled with mental illness. A rich girl with a private school education and trust fund. But she supposed their differences complemented each other.
Mila cleared her throat. “So... are you and Adekhan... talking?”
Gayle’s grin was wicked, dark eyes glinting maliciously as Ithann stiffened, arms crossed on his chest.
“Honey, you know I don’t let a man get away with just talking.”
“I applaud your choice,” Jaron said, addressing Ithann.
Mila glanced at Jaron, eyebrow raised. The undertone of the words indicated he meant something else.
“We will see,” Ithann said. “Training is not yet complete.”
“Ah. G
ood luck with training.”
Ithann’s pale eyes narrowed. “And how fares your endeavor? Has it yielded fruit?”
Gayle and Mila exchanged glances. Obviously the men thought she and Gayle wouldn’t understand they were discussing their relationships. Gayle rolled her eyes and rose.
“I’ll take mine away before he says something to get in the dog house. Hey- we should do dinner at Dad’s this month.”
Mila winced. “I’m not up to the décor in your dad’s house.”
Gayle waved a hand even as she began tugging Ithann away. “I’ll take you shopping. I have nothing better to do with my money anyway.”
“That’s a damn shame, Gayle Oba-”
Jaron clapped a hand over her mouth, halting her shout. “Don’t say that name aloud. Let her keep her privacy.”
Mila nodded, chastened. She forgot, sometimes, the burden Gayle carried.
He removed his hand. “That will be an interesting bond if it works.”
“I knew there was something there, but I thought she was really just playing with him.”
“Ithann does not play. Neither do I.”
Mila tensed.
“Are you enjoying our date?” he asked.
“Of course.”
He picked up her hand, thumb caressing her skin. “You enjoy being with me. I can tell.”
“Whoa, you gotta do something about that lack of self-confidence, Jaron.”
Jaron smiled, vulpine. “Healthy long term relationships are based in mutual friendship, respect and compatibility. The research-”
Mila groaned. “Please.”
“Very well. But there is one other vital component that we have yet to fully explore.”
She licked her lips. “What is that?”
He released her hand. “I have something to show you.”
Mila watched as he reached in his pocket. He withdrew a slim rectangular disc with a series of flat black buttons.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Observe.”
He set it in the grass, pressing a button. The air wavered and then-
Mila shrieked. “What the hell! Where are we?”
She waved her hand in front of her face- at least having the presence of mind to wave the empty hand and not the one clutching her wine. Nothing. She wasn’t there.
“It’s an invisibility shield,” Jaron’s disembodied voice said. “The range is short- there is only enough power to cloak two people and only for about an hour.” He paused, and sounded sheepish. “It’s a discount model.”
Discount model, her behind.
Mila took a deep breath, heart rate slowing down. So she was invisible? It was just a trick of technology.
“So, what’s the reason we’re sitting here all see through?”
Fingers skimmed her shoulder, ran down her arm, causing the fine hairs to stand to attention.
"What are you doing?"
As if she had to ask. Mila had the presence of mind, as fingers slid under her shirt, skimming up her ribs to cup her breasts, to wince at her own inanity.
Lips on her neck as a warm, hard body settled over her, gently pressing her into the ground. He was moving a little fast, skipping the whole kiss and then seek permission part of things. But her submission permeated the bond, along with his hunger. Their hunger.
"Better than VR," she muttered, gasping when he nipped her in response.
He tugged her shirt over her head, a silent, invisible presence. Like a genie, or a god. A phantom for her pleasure.
The early evening breeze nipped at her exposed skin. She shivered, though not from cold. His hair brushed against her sensitized nipples, hot breath on the swell of her flesh right before he unsnapped and pushed aside her flimsy bra and claimed a nipple.
Mila ran her fingers through his hair. Heavy strands with a slight texture; like rough silk.
A couple walked past them and Mila froze, seeing the edge of someone’s shoe.
“That woman almost stepped on me,” she whispered in a strangled voice.
He said nothing, but his hand traveled to the waistband of her leggings, and tugged.
“Jaron,” she hissed.
His caresses stopped.“Will you deny me?”
Mila licked her lips.“What… do you want to do?”
He shifted, and she was suddenly dissatisfied with his clothed state and began fumbling for the buttons of his shirt. Jaron helped, his heat moving away, the rustle of cloth settling onto grass in a heap. And then he was over her again, this time the full furnace of his smooth skin and hard chest crushing hers.
“Everything,” he said.“I want to do everything. But not yet. For now, just an appetizer.”
He tugged at her leggings again and this time she lifted her hips, allowing him to pull down the cloth. She laid completely naked beneath him, fully exposed to the world.
“That thing won’t lose its power charge will it?” she asked.
He laughed softly.“It will beep a five-minute warning. Don’t worry, Mila. No man other than I will ever see you.”
Lips claimed hers, Mila’s legs wrapping around his waist, opening herself to him. He fondled her nub, rolling and flicking the stiffening flesh between two fingers as she arched her hips in response.
Mila kissed him with increasing desperation, tongues clashing, his hold on her tightening, the hard length of him pulsing against her. The only barrier his loose pants.
She could just reach down, pull his cock out, and slip it inside her. Jaron moved down her body, Mila’s legs falling to the ground, spread wide.
He nipped and suckled, licked and caressed her flesh until her found what he wanted. Mouth replaced fingers and suddenly he was inside her; fingers plunging into her cavern as he teased her clit.
It was quick; her body starved. Mila screamed when her orgasm crested. He slapped a hand over her mouth, holding back her cries.
People passing by glanced around, but saw nothing. Mila watched them through a daze of pleasure. And a slight feeling of dissatisfaction, despite her body’s satiation.
“I want more,” she whispered.“Let me taste you.”
“I’m too big for your mouth.”
The words, the husky, dark tone and the image they produced, spurred her hunger.
“Why are we waiting? I want more.”
He crawled up her body. She tasted herself on his lipswhen he kissed her, brief but fierce.“Endure the torment. I have.”
“You… bastard.”
Jaron laughed.“I’ll enjoy making you wait.”
7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Her body ached. When she looked at him now, her womb clenched and the cavern between her thighs moistened, craving him.
He continued to torment her. Every evening, playing with her breasts and her pussy. Making her scream with pleasure but not allowing her to touch him in return. At times she saw cruelty mingled with satisfaction in his eyes and realized he enjoyed her sensual suffering, payback for his months of waiting. Though he would call it balancing the scales.
What sweet torment.
Jaron allowed Ayita to watch from the observation area for the next several days, under his hovering gaze. Mila felt odd with her mother’s eyes on her, and even odder still as Ayita’s deteriorated health slowly came back to life. It seemed Jaron was taking care of both mother and daughter. He wouldn’t discuss Ayita’s care with Mila other than to say her mother was on a strict whole foods diet, potent supplements and exercise in reasonable intervals as her body developed endurance. Years of abuse had taken their toll- Mila had never thought to see her mother looking so young. But maybe the Yadeshi had secrets they weren’t willing to divulge, even to their human lovers.
Mila faltered a step as the word entered her mind. Lover. She and Jaron weren’t fully lovers, but it was only a matter of time.
“Mila!”
She jumped as the Adekhan roared, fumbling the Form. Her training unit was in lines, warming up by going through each movement one
by one. She had them memorized to the point where she didn’t have to pay much attention.
Demonstrably a bad idea with an Adekhan eyeing her, waiting to pounce.
“Yes, Adekhan.”
He moved in front of her, scowling. “Your mind is not in present time. You will give me your mind or you will leave!”
Mila didn’t appreciate his attitude. “My mind is my own. The only thing you’re entitled to is undivided attention while I’m here. So I’m sorry. I’ll focus now.”
She dismissed him, and all other thoughts, moving into the Forms fully attuned to her body. The exercise was so different now that she was on a renewed and intensified path to healing. Just in the last few days she’d gained two pounds. Her hair was starting to lose the dull, crackling feel she had to mask with cooking oil to mimic health.
Several hours into training Mila realized the Adekhan’s silence after she’d spoken back to him hadn’t been anything other than him plotting to make her life miserable.
Had she thought herself healed? Now she knew better.
Mila dropped to her knees after a suicide lap around the giant open air course. The other students could go three laps, but she was still at one. Physical agony and pride mingled because even a week ago she’d only been able to make it halfway through before collapsing and having to endure Ithann’s contemptuous glare.
“Get up, Mila,” the Adekhan said.
“Just give me a minute,” she said, heart still racing. “I need my heart rate to slow down.”
It felt like it would explode from her chest at any minute, and she knew her cardiovascular system couldn’t take the strain yet. She’d pushed herself, wanting to prove a point- but that had been stupid.
“You’re in poor condition and lazy,” Ithann said. “Your mind is lazy. The path the mind sets, the body will follow. If you-”
Mila groaned. “Please, no lectures. You don’t know what you’re talking about anyway.” She hesitated, then shrugged. “I’ve been sick. I’m recovering, okay? I’ll be better in a little while.”