by Iris Astres
“If by see you mean fuck,” said Amin staring at her, “maybe you’re right. I don’t know. If you mean see, however, then I don’t agree. I own the Body House. If I want to meet with an employee, I will. If you want to come along, you will.”
“Owner’s not a synonym for bully, Amin.” Solange brushed a speck of lint off his jacket. “You’re not going to start bossing people just because I’m sentimental.” She moved closer to her parting lovers. “I would love to see you both again someday. Is it possible?”
“It is,” said Malcolm.
“Willingly?” she asked.
“Bods are always willing,” said Raj.
She smiled warmly at the truth of that. “How do Temple Lovers say good-bye?”
He took both of her hands and bowed. “A part of you remains with me.”
“That’s nice.” She turned to Malcolm. He took one of her hands in both of his and kissed it, first one side and then the other.
“This is my last time in service to a woman. After you, no more.”
“Why?” She gaped at him.
“The threats,” he said. “Earth First. Before today I had a sense of danger coming. I can’t ignore it anymore. It has me too preoccupied to be a decent lover.”
“No one wants a decent lover,” Solange said. She looked into his eyes and realized she could still taste him a little. Something like desire passed through her exhausted body. Malcolm’s blue eyes flickered.
Then his attention snapped to something just over her shoulder. She took his somber look to mean Amin was closing in.
Raj and Malcolm bowed and took a step away. Some dark shape fell over them—a spidery shadow coming out of nowhere. “What’s that?” Solange scanned the room with a sharp, anxious feeling. She found the canvas straps of her erstwhile swing. They hadn’t put it back again. The dark, shadowy loops were like a noose around her lovers’ necks. She put her hand over her chest and tried to breathe away the image.
“Are you all right?”
She couldn’t answer them. Instead she bowed. “A part of you remains with me.”
Both men smiled warmly at her just before they turned away. She watched them reach the door. They opened it and left the way they’d come.
Amin sat down on the bed and stared at her. He looked fatigued but as alert as always.
“Now what?” she said.
“Dinner?”
Solange nodded, sat beside him. “And then?”
“Then bed.”
She frowned and shoved against his arm, annoyed that he still tried to fool her. “You’re not going to bed,” she said sourly.
Amin leaned back on his hands. “I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”
“Then what?”
“Then I’ll be at my desk. Eight feet away. Is something wrong?”
Something was wrong. Now that they were all alone, she felt it closing in on her like winter gloom. “You’re going to close me away inside some ivory tower, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said.
“And where will you be?”
“What do you mean?” His eyebrows lowered with what looked like real confusion.
“I mean,” she said, “where will you be once I’ve been nicely tucked away inside my brand-new fortress.”
“I’ll be where I am now, Solange. Beside you. Where I’ve always been.”
She looked into his eyes and found them crystal clear. Free from any semblance of deceit.
“Amin,” she said, collapsing on him with relief. “Please don’t let them murder you without me.”
“I’m not letting them murder me, period.” Amin gave a humorless laugh. “Not without you, and not with you either. If those bastards wanted us dead, they should have fucking done it when they had the chance. That’s it now. Their turn’s over.” He faced her on the bed, eyes narrowing in calculation. “As for your so-called tower,” he explained, “most of it will be constructed with technology—voice recognition, body scans. By tomorrow I’ll know more about the details. There’ll be background checks for our employees and a few armed men. We’ll see. And no more strangers, Solange.” He waited while she nodded her agreement. “Other than that, nothing will change. We’ll go on as before.”
“All right.” She looked at him. A part of her still wanted something else. One more reassurance before she had to face tomorrow. “Why don’t you say it?” she suggested.
“Say what?”
“I love you.”
Amin dipped his chin. His face took on the bored and skeptical expression he always used instead of saying no.
“Please,” she said. “I want to hear what the words sound like in your voice. Only once. And then I’ll never ask again.”
Amin cleared his throat. He straightened, and his manner became dutiful and solemn. “I love you,” he said.
Solange blinked into the marble room. It didn’t sound like anything the way he said it. She wished she’d never asked him to. Suddenly she wanted only to be home again. “Come on,” she said and got up, moving toward the door.
Amin pulled her back down on the bed. “Listen again,” he said. She waited. There was silence.
The silence gathered in her, deepening, until the stillness hummed with love. So lush and pure she almost couldn’t bear it.
Solange lowered her eyes to where her husband’s large hand closed around her wrist. Amin had nice hands. His fingernails were almost perfect—straight where they were straight, round where they were round. The tips were chalky white. She watched him stroke the outer edge of her palm. A tear fell where their hands were joined.
Solange blotted her face against his shoulder. “What’s wrong with me? I never cry.”
“You never cry unless you’re hungry.”
That was true. And she had to be ravenous.
Amin brushed a few damp strands of hair out of her eyes and leaned a little closer to her ear. “I saw a taco stand a block or two away. Let’s go get something full of fat and salt and have them cover it in cheese. We’ll wash it down with beer and then go home to bed.”
“Until I fall asleep.”
“That’s right. And when you wake up, I’ll be there beside you.”
“That’s what I love the most,” she said.
“I know.”
She squinted at him. “What do you love most?”
“The sight of you.”
That made the stinging in her eyes begin again.
She needed food.
Solange stood. Her thoughts shifted to roadside taco stands—the smell of slow-cooked beef and fried tortillas. Without a doubt there’d be some young girl at the counter, staring flushed and round-eyed at her husband. Oddly enough the image didn’t irritate Solange as much as usual.
“Do you know what?” she said when Amin rose to stand beside her. “I don’t think I’m jealous anymore. The Bods fixed me. I’m sure they did.”
He gave her his most pleasantly derisive look. “Maybe you’ve just finally come to your senses.”
“Oh no.” Solange dismissed this. “That definitely isn’t it. This is Bod work. I’m sure of it. Sure and happy too. I was tired of being annoyed all the time. Did they cure you of something?”
Amin mulled it over, or appeared to. If he thought of anything, he didn’t let it show. “Come on.” He draped an arm around her shoulder, fitting her against him as he moved them both toward the door. “We’re alive,” he said. “Let’s eat so we can stay that way.”
“Fried meat in cheese sauce kills more people than Earth Firsters ever did.”
“So long as you can pick your poison.” He opened the door.
“I picked my poison years ago.” She stepped under his arm into the hallway.
“Do you regret it?”
“Oh no,” she said. “I like my poison. In fact, I truly hope that it’s the death of me.”
“In some far and distant future,” Amin said.
He took her hand and drew her forward with him, out into the world.
Epilogue
Nearly whistling with pleased anticipation, Malcolm took the stairs to the third floor where the Backusian women lived. His latest visit with the Clays had left him stimulated. Happy. Ready for an evening of raw sex.
Once in the alcove, he checked availabilities, crossed the hall, and rang the bell. The door swung wide, with Lin’s wiry body working hard to fill the opening. She eyed him coolly—arm stretched like a tollgate.
“Yes?” It was a haughty question, matched by a slow, dubious assessment of his body, head to toe.
Malcolm cleared his throat and joined the game.
“Good evening, madam,” he began. “I was in the neighborhood and wondered if you’d care to join me in a filthy fuck?”
Lin let go of the door frame and stepped backward with a smirk, gesturing for him to come inside.
She was bare-legged under a Backusian tunic. The homey sight made him nostalgic for the old days. A rare but poignant feeling.
“I just made tea.” Lin headed toward her kitchenette. “Will you have some?” Malcolm nodded, smiling at the utter mess around him.
Notebooks were open on every unclaimed surface, filled with rough sketches over rows of numbers. There was the usual tangle of electronics on her work space, an assortment of autopsied appliances he barely recognized. Underneath her desk a neat pile of sweepings hadn’t made it to the dustbin yet.
Like all Backusian women in the Body House, Lin was a scholar. She and her colleagues had joined the male lovers, thankful for the chance of doing research on Earth. The relationship was blissful symbiosis. Shared support, shared finances, shared sex.
“How’s the research going?”
“Good. As far as I know.” She handed him his teacup. “It takes months for a message to get relayed here from Backus, but I think my teachers will be pleased.”
“No doubt,” he said and smiled once again at all the signs of her cerebral passion.
She tugged at his tie. “Have you been working?”
“Sort of.”
“What’s that mean?”
He took a sip of tea. Apparently the evasive gesture wasn’t lost on Lin, who rolled her eyes and made a brief sound of disgust.
“You’ve been out hobnobbing with the rich and famous again, haven’t you?”
“You know,” said Malcolm, working up a genuine complaint, “I’m getting somewhat sick of all this teasing.” He put his cup down and grabbed Lin’s bare ass underneath her tunic. “If I say outright that I spent the afternoon at the Clay residence, I’m accused of dropping names to look important. But if I keep it to myself, you girls complain I’m secretive and cagey. What am I supposed to do?”
Lin rubbed her ass against his hand and gave the question her consideration. A very dirty smile bloomed.
“What you should do is take your clothes off while you’re telling me about your fancy friends. Then come over here and fuck me.”
He watched her saunter over to her unmade bed and sit down tailor-style with her back against the pillows.
Malcolm shrugged. “Just tell me what you want to know.”
“Tell me about their house,” she said, pushing rumpled laundry overboard to clear the way. “Or should I say their castle?”
Malcolm unbuttoned his jacket and turned to drape it neatly over her desk chair. He didn’t really like talking about the Clays. The value of their friendship went beyond the elbow rubbing everyone assumed. He liked them. Valued their honesty. And he had grown increasingly intrigued by the uncanny bond that kept them at each other’s side. For the world at large, however, all the fame and wealth made them cartoonish. It was uncomfortable to have to work so hard to humanize his friends.
“Not a castle.” He pulled his shirt out of his pants and shook his head. “More like an old brick warehouse. Downstairs, there’s a kitchen and partitioned rooms for live-in staff. The rest is open structure with a central staircase that connects upstairs from down.” All of which was an impressive modern fortress. Sensors in the ceiling instantly registered the addition of any metal—if someone came in with a clunky bracelet, it was scanned and noted. The exterior was also sensitive to movement. So much so that a pebble tossed against the window turned the place into a giant panic room—armored shutters instantly descending, generators turning on.
The details of the safety features would fascinate Lin, but something kept him from revealing them just yet. Soon they’d install a similar system in the Body House. At which point he was sure she’d be duly impressed.
“Huh,” said Lin. “You’re telling me the richest couple on the planet lives in two small rooms?”
“Two enormous rooms,” Malcolm corrected. “Solange doesn’t like doors.” He gave the fact away, regretting it a little. It seemed so sweet to him. The woman’s impulse to be close. The way her husband indulged that desire. The two of them lived much like children in a secret fort—intimate and trusting company, secluded from the world.
Malcolm liked the way they’d done it. The downstairs of their spacious dwelling was all-purpose. Suitable for business meetings or a fancy dress with orchestra. The upstairs was kept private. It progressed in stages from the bedroom to a sort of sitting room around a massive fireplace built at the other end. Amin’s complex workstation separated one side from the other. That way he could work and be with her no matter where she was.
It was cozy. It was appealing. It left Malcolm wondering if coupling were something he’d enjoy. More and more, he thought he might.
With nothing but his pants left on, he paused and looked at Lin. “Anything in particular you’d like tonight?”
“I have to choose?” Her eyebrows quirked with unhappy surprise. “You used to give me everything.”
“You can choose everything,” he said.
She rose to her knees at his approach. “Can I tie you up?”
Malcolm went back to the chair and got his tie. “Of course,” he said. “I should have asked before. Shall I take these off or leave them on?”
She eyed him thoughtfully, pulling the tie tight between her fists. “Off, I think.”
He pulled on his belt and stepped out of his slacks and shorts. They both watched his cock rise toward her in salute.
“Lie down,” she said, giving him room. “Wrist over wrist.”
He lay back on the cool sheets, lifting both arms overhead. She pulled her tunic off and straddled him. Her tits brushed his face as she looped the tie around his hands and cinched it to the bed frame.
When she’d finished, she got off him, looking at his body while he looked at hers. Lin had a slim, athletic build that screamed overachiever like the rest of her. She was also something of a show-off—a tiny flaw that could be quite a bit of fun in bed.
“Are you comfortable?” She pulled down on his cock, let it go, and watched it spring back on his belly. “Is that as hard as this thing gets?”
Malcolm gave a noncommittal glance down at his prick. “With proper dedication and a little skill you might tease something extra out of him.”
“I see.” Lin wrapped both hands around him while he eyed the slit between her legs.
“Want to feel my mouth on you?”
He nodded.
“Ask me nicely then.”
“Lin, dear,” Malcolm said silkily. “Would you be kind enough to suck my aching prick?”
She got down on her belly and wriggled like a snake toward him. For several minutes he watched with appreciation while she demonstrated what she knew. Her tongue flattened against him—licked and fluttered with a sense of purpose. He tensed his muscles, strained against the knots to make it nicer for them both. When she’d finished, she pulled down on his cock again. It slapped back with a crack against his belly. Definitely harder.
She lifted one leg over him, knees tightening against his ribs. Malcolm knew what she’d do next. The woman loved to lower her cunt onto him and make him lick. A fairly rare kink from his experience, and he enjoyed the novelty along with the more
obvious pleasures. He relaxed his neck and waited while she inched her way over his face.
She grabbed the bars that he himself was tied to and wriggled on his mouth. It was control she liked, and so he pursed his lips and licked while she played with the motion and the aim. He felt her clit swell on his tongue. Her pussy was starting to vibrate when she lifted off him.
“How long do we have?” Lin’s hips still wiggled back and forth against the empty air.
“I can stay and fuck until you’re dazed and twitching,” Malcolm said. “Have I ever let you down?”
“You never have.” She grabbed a T-shirt from the foot of the bed and wiped his face.
Her butt lifted as she lowered her mouth to his. Then she slid her pussy down over his cock. “You’re a good man, Malcolm.” She pulled the tie loose, freeing him. “Fuck me all the ways you know.”
With that instruction, Malcolm grabbed her ass and flipped her on the bed. His cock slid in and out of her tight box, finding different depths and angles. She pushed against him, and he slid one knee up. Widening her legs. Holding her down. Lin closed her eyes, looking blissed-out, like an expert swimmer diving underneath the waves.
Her body was hot and willing. It wasn’t long before he took her up and over, marking the first score. While they both caught their breath, he caught her eye.
“Shouldn’t you get back to your important studies?”
“I think better after my sixth orgasm.”
He pulled her up with him until he had her in his lap.
“Tell me something?”
“Sure,” she said.
“Have you ever wanted to couple?”
He’d only been a little curious. Hadn’t meant to stop her heart. But the look on Lin’s face said that wasn’t a good question. Her eyes flew open, round and wide. He had to lock his arms around her waist to keep her from scrambling off him.