by Jay Shaw
“Time to go.” He growled.
“Do you think they’ll notice if we sneak away?” She laughed, head flung back to bare her neck as he danced them closer to the doors.
“Only one way to find out.”
He tugged on her hand and she gathered up her skirts with the other; running down the deserted corridor to the relocator and the privacy of their quarters. Julia’s heart was in her throat as she realized, for as long as the universe permitted, she got to be with this man. A wonderful insanely gorgeous man, who wanted her and loved her as much as she wanted and loved him.
~*~
The doors to their quarters hissed open and Julia gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in amazement. Every surface was covered in creamy white candles, each flame offering up a soft glow from its glass vase and crystal holder; carrying the scent of vanilla and sandalwood throughout the room. New linens of navy, ocean blue, and crisp white adorned their bed; the sheer curtains pulled back to reveal the eggplant ink of Phoenix’s moon-studded night sky.
“Do you like it?” Mark asked, watching her face. “I gave our friends free reign.”
Entranced by the lure of the romantic beauty before her, Julia made to walk in, but he pulled her back.
“Wait, there’s some traditions that don’t take well to being ignored, even if we’re in a different galaxy to the one that invented them.” Mark scooped her into his arms and strode into their sanctuary, Julia’s peals of laughter bringing forth his trademark smirk.
“If you would be so kind as to wait here, Mrs Holden?” He asked, placing her gently on her feet and gesturing with his hands as he backed up to where his iPod was docked in the speaker bar.
Julia stood in the exact center of their room, her white wedding dress golden in the candlelight, and watched Mark’s back. He pivoted to face her again and the candle flames caught in the gold-flecked whiskey of his eyes. The murmur of Roxy Music’s Avalon reached her ears as she stepped into his welcoming embrace, the strength of his arms holding her close; her eyelids drifting closed as he swayed them to the sultry sax.
“You looked so handsome today.” She whispered. Her lips tender against the textured fabric of his jacket. “I had trouble believing you were real, let alone mine.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Wanted to look good, for you.”
“You succeeded.”
She followed the row of silver buttons from his collar out on an angle to his pec and traced her fingertips over the silver pilot’s wings pinned there; before continuing their exploration to his sleeve. His bicep flexed under her touch as she counted the multi-colored strips sewn with silver thread one above the next from elbow to shoulder. So many stories of lives lost in battles for things that no longer mattered.
“When I turned and saw you starting down the stairs toward me…” He swallowed hard around the bottlenecked words, color high on his cheeks. “You looked amazing. I…felt like the luckiest man in two galaxies.”
Her knees were weak and her mind reeled; heart melting into mush as she looked up to find her husband’s face, his mouth so close. “I love you, Mark Holden.”
“And I you, Julia Holden.” He murmured. Lowering his mouth and kissing her breath away, fingers in her hair and thumbs stroking at her temples.
Many trailing kisses of hot lips over bared neck and collarbone later and his fingers found the hidden zipper in the side seam of her dress. He tugged it open until the heavy fabric slid to the floor; a pool of satin and tulle at her feet. Julia stood motionless, stunned by the look of longing on Mark’s face. His gaze roamed her scantily clad body, taking in the tight blue corset hugging her ribs and the lace panties riding low on her hips. A blue ribbon garter, black lace-top stockings, and blue leather knee boots with turned heels were the finishing touch.
“I dressed for you too.”
“I…”
“Thank you.” He croaked, dragging the back of one hand down the stretch from breast to navel and back again.
“You’re welcome.” She whispered back; slipped the silver buttons free from their ranks and shoved blue wool off broad shoulders.
Mark took over, shrugging the rest of the way out of the sleeves and tossing the jacket on the back of his desk chair. With the duck of his head, the fitted white undershirt followed in quick succession.
“Oh fuck!” He cursed, lashes sweeping closed over flushed cheeks, as Julia explored the contours and planes of his body; treasure trail rasping beneath her teasing touch. “Woman, what you do to me.”
“No more than you deserve, Husband.”
She felt the heat of his gaze on her as she stepped from the puddle of her dress and pressed her body into the length of his. Her palms grazed up his flanks, thumbs circling his nipples before she laid her ear over his heart, its beat frantic as she swayed with him. He cradled her shoulders in a strong arm and leaned her back, pulling her knee up over his thigh. She felt the hard heat of him, so close, and moaned into his kiss as he plundered her eager mouth. She startled when Mark scooped her feet out from under her, rested a knee on the bed to lay her on her back.
Wrapped in a hazy cocoon where her only focus was Mark, she luxuriated in the masculine scent of his skin as he made love to her with the rough-smooth of his hands, the soft heat of his mouth, and the hard thrust and flex of his body. Julia arched into his touch, offered herself up to the dizzying heights of pleasure and bliss he bestowed.
They lay on the rumbled bed, devoid of energy, their limbs entangled. Mark rolled toward her, supporting his head on his palm, his body pressing against the entire length of hers. He picked up her hand from where it lay on her stomach and ran his fingers over her rings.
“Still can’t believe you’re mine.”
“Still can’t believe a lot of things.” Julia countered, a smirk twitching at the corner of her kiss-swollen mouth.
Mark arched a brow, affecting a nonchalant demeanor. “Oh yeah, and what things would they be?”
“That I’m here with you. Gliders. And that fruit, the one with the aqua skin and succulent purple flesh.” She muffled a squeal into the crook of his shoulder when he rolled her over and hauled her in tight. Back to chest, knees tucked in close behind her own, a hand cupping her breast.
“Glad I rank higher than spaceships and fruit.”
“A tough choice, nonetheless.”
Julia wriggled her ass back and Mark tweaked her nipple, chuckling at her indignant squeak and murmuring low and close against her ear. “Goodnight, my wife.”
“Goodnight, my husband.” She preened; couldn’t help it, and arched her neck back to reach Mark’s mouth as he dragged the blanket up. Then drifted into sleep with him heavy at her back.
~*~
The feel of Mark’s lips at her throat and his exploring hand between her thighs woke Julia in the pre-dawn darkness. She groaned, sleep still clouding the edges of her mind; her body responding to his touch as naturally as breathing. Julia angled back against him and Mark pushed inside, taking her fierce and urgent; his arm anchored around her hips, the angle tight and sensations heightened. She shook in his arms and he pulled her onto him, shuddered breath escaping in a sigh of completion. It was a while before she rolled over and back into his arms, snuggling face to face. He kissed her sweaty brow and drifted back to sleep. Julia pressed her own kiss to the base of his throat and followed him into slumber; the sound of their hearts beating in unison beneath her ear.
~*~
The watery sunlight of an overcast day filled the sweep of panoramic windows. Julia opened one eye just a crack and closed it again, denying her body’s insistence that light meant day and she should wake up. It was too early. It was a drab day. And all her incentive for staying abed sprawled next to her, his breathing slow and even.
“I saw that, sleepyhead.”
Soft lips brushed her brow.
“No, you didn’t.” She mumbled from beneath the blanket tugged up to the top of her nose. “How long have you been awake?”
“Couple of minutes.”
Her mind continued its morning ignition sequences, stubbornly clearing away the fog clouding it, by reminding Julia she was a married woman in possession of the handsomest husband in two galaxies.
“I had a dream…”
“Mmm…”
“I met this super-sexy man who asked me to marry him, so I did. He was really good with his hands.”
She giggled at the look in Mark’s eyes when he pulled her to him. “I don’t know how to break it to you, darlin’, but that was no dream.”
“Just as well.”
“I’m starving.”
She stretched her hands above her head and yawned until her jaw cracked. “When’s the glider booked for?”
He glanced at his watch where it rested on its side on the dresser. “Couple of hours.”
“Great.” Julia grinned, tossing back the blankets and hauling him out of bed after her. “Just enough time for a shower and breakfast.”
“You’ll be the death of me, woman.” Mark groaned as he stumbled his way into the bathroom after his wife.
Julia kissed him hard, her fingers drawing spirals of soap bubbles over the spot where a stunner blast had once scored his arm. “But, Colonel, what a way to go.”
Chapter 21
There was, of course, no sign of Hayden or Ange at the small bon voyage gathering in the Birdcage. Not that Julia had expected to see them. The amused gleam in the corner of Mark’s eye meant he’d noticed their friends’ absence too. Colonel Archer, Valentina, and Stephen, among others, had gathered to wave off the newly-minted Colonel and Mrs Holden.
“Have a fabulous time.” Valentina gushed as she hugged Julia tight in farewell.
“Thanks, Lenti. I’m sure I will.”
Mark and Stephen thumped one another on the back in a manly expression of friendship and congratulation.
“I’ll expect both of you back here in exactly one week’s time, Colonel.” Colonel Archer’s smile neutralized the commanding edge to her words.
“Yes, ma’am.” Mark flipped a perfect salute before stooping for the two duffels and lifting a brow in Julia’s direction. “Ready, Mrs Holden?”
“Sure, I have no idea where we’re headed, but I’m prepared to go on trust.” Julia grinned in answer to the tittering laughter and followed her husband up the ramp into Glider one.
He hadn’t told her where they were going but when he smiled at her, soft and hopeful, the knot of uncertainty that had been curling tighter since waking melted away as if it had never been. She had trusted Mark with her heart and her life. It made sense to trust him with her future too.
“What?” His shoulders were tense and his eyes wide in the light from the console.
She shook her head, smirking as she leaned across to kiss him, a chaste brush of lips and a tentative press of tongue to the seam of his mouth. Her breath warm in the intimate space between them.
“You look so fucking hot in mufti.”
“Civvies.” He choked on the breath he’d tried to sneak in and they chuckled, Julia tilting her cheek into the hand he’d curved to her jaw. “You’re not lookin’ to bad yourself, Beautiful.”
“Why thank you, kind sir.”
He kissed her silent, chaste but with the promise of more; once, twice, and again before pulling away and lounging back in the pilot’s chair.
“If we don’t go now.” Her mischievous gaze locked with his. “I suspect the others will wonder what we’re up to in here that’s preventing us from initiating flight.”
Mark smirked, plush lips tugging up as he tapped his radio and confirmed Glider one’s departure.
Acilajan, capital of Haep Provence, was Phoenix City’s bohemian cousin. There wasn’t a right angle in sight. All her buildings were wonderful distortions of molded clay in an array of hues ranging from chemical orange, through cerise and cobalt, to lime and lemon. Each structure a masterpiece with pre-school craft table influences, decorated with gaudy mosaics, reflective inlays, and stained glass windows.
Julia grinned as she walked down Glider one’s ramp; her eyes wide and darting everywhere to avoid missing anything. The air slapped her in the face with its sharp minty freshness and made her exhale on a gasp, only to envelop her in a sensual cocoon of warm spices and the sweet honey of exotic pollen; intense and seductive.
From the vast south plain that served as parking for interstellar crafts of all sizes, to the cacophony of sights and sounds of its marketplace. Acilajan was alive with the energy and excitement expected from a trading center that catered to the diverse needs of half the Dragonus galaxy.
Every stand, stall, tent, and gazebo had sprung up like enthusiastic toadstools. With every color and pattern imaginable employed to lure patrons, and capture their attention long enough to secure a sale. All vendors, whether they wore kaftans, turbans, homespun, flamboyant hats, or endless strings of wooden beads over naked six-breasted torsos, bellowed their pitches to the masses. Competing with one another, yet cheering their fellows when a customer was won.
It was impossible not to be swept along by their enthusiasm. Julia, with her hand caught tight in Mark’s, waded into the tidal pull of the eclectic throng. Acilajan’s spell worked its magic on you, whether you were a Dragonus local, or a woman from an alternate reality Earth.
Mark tightened his grip to get her attention and she glanced back over her shoulder, brow raised in query above wide sparkling eyes.
“You want anything in particular?” He shouted to be heard and she pointed to the turquoise gazebo ahead.
Held aloft by ashwood logs, the structure was an experiment in the balance between gravity and artistic license. Julia’s muscles ached, sweat beaded in her armpits and between her breasts, and her hair hung limp in the humidity of so many beings crushed together. It was like being caught in a stampede. One wrong step and you’d be trampled beneath the herd. The market thoroughfares had been laid out with this in mind though, because the mass kept moving; seething and surging forward, creating little eddies around those who had located their vendor of choice, and moving on, like a fast-flowing river traversing its rocky riverbed.
Mark used his broad shoulders to both shelter her from the brunt of the crowd and advance their progress. Julia held tight. Her hands were clamped to his forearms, the fear of being swept away coloring her enthusiasm. It would be all too easy to disappear forever amid a thousand witnesses. Even if there was hope of seeing beyond their own goals and the burly coppersmith toting his wares; or the fantastical pink headdress of an avocado-skinned man holding up a matching corset so the sequin trim glinted in the sun. Mark’s internal radar had to be pinging on a loop.
Once the awe had worn off, Julia was in her element. Acilajan’s market barely compared to the hordes of rabid women during sixty-percent-off sales at Bootalicious.
“Excuse me, how much?” She held up a length of red silk shot through with golds and pinks for the vendor to see, but he ignored her.
“No fixed prices.” Mark spoke close to her ear as the crowd battered against his back. “You have to tell him what you’ll pay. He’ll pretend to be insulted. Then you offer less, he’ll charge way more than it’s worth. You pretend to leave. He’ll smile and sell at your original offer.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“But that’s stupid. You’d think with all these potential customers, he’d keep it short so he can make more sales.”
“It’s a courtship, Beautiful. A dance where each has something the other wants. A seduction where you both leave satisfied.” Mark slipped a handful of little wooden squares the size of Scrabble tiles into her palm and folded her fingers around them. “Show him two of the goats.”
Julia sifted through until she found a head with horns and held it up, along with two fingers. “Two.”
The vendor snorted, the thick gold ring through his broad nose gave an indignant bounce against his chiseled indigo lips. Julia feigned indifference and laid the fabric b
ack on the trestle in front of her. A thrill hummed through her veins. She was beginning to enjoy the dance.
“One.”
She jumped back into Mark’s chest when the vendor produced four arms from the loose sleeves of his black kaftan, gold cuffs stark against onyx skin, a multitude of fingers splayed. Julia counted under her breath.
“Thirty-two!”
Mark laughed against her back. He’d been right, it was fun. She scooped up the entire collection of fabric, each more vibrant than the one before it, leaving the wood trestle bare.
“Outrageous! I should have ten at that price.”
The whites of the vendor’s eyes were so clear. Not a vein or blemish marred their perfect surface. His scarlet pupils bled a spiral of color into his black irises as he grinned a mouthful of tobacco-stained teeth at her. Mark tugged on her arm as if he had lost interest in the game and she dropped the silks back to the table, pretending to agree with his decision.
All but one of the vendor’s arms retracted from sight. The remaining one held two fingers aloft. Julia grinned and nodded. “Two, for the lot.”
He bent from his shoulders; bobbing a series of enthusiastic nods in agreement. She nodded back and handed over two goat tiles. A hand spirited them away with a warm velvet touch, while two others folded and wrapped her purchases in a square of waterproof burlap.
“You done? We could come back in the morning.” Mark’s eyebrows spoke for exactly how happy he’d be to plunge back into the chaos a second time.
But Julia was riding the high of her first attempt at haggling in an alien marketplace and was content to let the throng take her where it would. The fire-pit meat smelled divine. As did the fresh-baked spice swirls a human girl with blonde curls peeking out her mop cap, was toting on a tray. A being she had no name for was bellowing above the hubbub as he turned one way then the other. Julia couldn’t understand him but she guessed it was something about the fragrant steam wafting from the pails, balanced either end of the pole across his shoulders. It was popular, judging by the crowd of satisfied customers sipping from their wooden tankards.