“I…I heard an idea,” Marshal said, his tone strangely tight. “I want to tell you about it.”
The change in conversation startled me enough that I looked up at him. His eyes were wide, filled with so much complexity as he studied my face. My heart raced, slammed against my chest in a strange sort of anticipation.
He leaned forward and put his mouth on mine.
Chapter 14
“Should you ever become concerned about the activities of someone else, it is your responsibility as a civilized, concerned member of society to report that person to the Committee for further examination. We all must do our part to ensure the success of our colonies. If you need to contact the Committee, simply press the red button twice.” ~ The Book of the Machine
I was so stunned by Marshal’s action that I could do nothing for a moment but sit there, frozen. His mouth was soft, warm on mine. The nerves in my lower belly stretched into a blissful heat that spread like liquid fire to my limbs.
All too soon, Marshal pulled back, looking at me, pupils wide and dark and compelling. We both had unsteady breaths.
“What was that?” I whispered.
“A kiss. Ancients used to do that as a…” His cheeks got the slightest touch of pink. “As a sign of affection.”
I swallowed, reached a finger out to touch his hair, the curve of his cheek, the line of his jaw. Then, with a heart beating so hard beneath my ribs that I felt it would surely break free from my chest, I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his with a deliberate caress, wanting to share my inner fire with him. Needing to know he was aching in the same slow, torturous, heady way I was.
“Like this?” I asked.
“Yes.” He sucked in a shaky breath then slanted his mouth over mine.
I wrapped my arms around his torso, needing him as close to me as possible. In this moment, I could forget our frightening reality and slip into an intimacy I never could have dreamed of. I craved that peace right now almost as much as I was craving him.
Marshal threaded his hands into my hair. I shivered at the sensation of his fingers brushing my scalp, my flesh erupting in goose bumps. He moved his mouth across my cheeks, kissing my eyelids, my forehead.
I didn’t know how long we went on like this, our mouths silently speaking the words we didn’t know how to articulate. His skin was slightly salty as I tasted the flesh at his jawline. His hair was soft in my fingers, thick at the nape of his neck. I let my hands roam at will over his back, still nervous, the thrill of our illicit and utterly craven touches fluttering through me in steady, throbbing pulses.
My pelvis had a tight, throbbing ache, a need I couldn’t articulate but somehow understood in an innate way. A yearning for him to be as close as humanly possible.
We stretched out on the bed, narrowly fitting on it. I curved into him, one leg nudged between his thighs. His pelvis was so close to mine. He gripped my hip and drew me even closer, pressing and grinding against me. I moaned against his mouth, breathless, wanting, aching.
There was something so intense about fumbling my way through this with Marshal, the man I loved. A meaningfulness that took our emotions to a new level.
“You feel just like I imagined you would,” he said with a low rumble, his mouth brushing against the shell of my ear.
“You do too.” I ran my fingertips across his collarbone, up his neck, pulling back a little bit to lock eyes with him. We were both resting our heads on my pillow, a strange action that was almost as intimate as our current position.
A smile erupted on my face. “You know, I like kissing,” I said, sliding my hand down the curve of his lower back. “Where did you learn about this?”
How could our society have moved away from such a powerful and beautiful gesture? Yet another thing sadly lost to us. I was glad I’d gotten to share these moments of discovery with Marshal.
He chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It was brought up in a lecture on ancient mating practices. Apparently there are other reasons and purposes for kissing. But this is the one that interested me the most.”
A light laugh died in my throat when his fingers moved between our bodies and nudged the end of my tunic up. With firm fingers he stroked the soft skin of my lower belly, his pupils growing large as his eyelids dropped a fraction. The sensation sent off a thousand tiny sparks across my flesh. A moan erupted from between my lips, and I pressed myself against his hand, aching for more of that searing touch.
“I…learned about other things too, Cally. I want to show you more,” he whispered, leaning close and capturing the moan with his own mouth. As he kissed me deeper, dragged the tip of his tongue along the tender skin of my mouth, his hand slid up and cupped right underneath my breast. He gave a strangled groan and his hand clenched my ribs with an involuntary twitch, which excited me in a heady, decadent way.
When his thumb brushed the tip of my nipple, I shuddered, my core throbbing at a rapid pace. The hardened bud tightened in response. I needed…something from him. The pressure in me built and built, spiraling toward some event that I was sure would be phenomenal.
Marshal pulled back, lips damp and swollen, hair tousled. My heart squeezed at the sight. While I didn’t know about these mating practices the way he did, I could tell that he was just as impacted by our intimacy as I was. His fingers fumbled for the bottom of my tunic, and he tugged it up a few inches, eyes remaining locked on me.
Asking for permission.
I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded.
My tunic came off, hitting the floor, and his followed quickly thereafter. His bare flesh was right there, a breath away from mine, and then we were touching each other again, and it wasn’t enough. We kissed, pressing our naked skin and rubbing, stroking, doing all those things I’d been desperate to try with him for so long.
This was dangerous. I knew it with every inch of my being. Dangerous and incredibly intoxicating.
“Marshal,” I said as his hand dipped to the curve of my waist, nudging my trousers down a few inches and baring my hipbone. I dug my nails into his back. “That feels so good.” My breath came out in rapid pants. The fire continued to stoke in me when he trailed more kisses across my throat, down my chest.
“You smell…” He sucked in a shaky breath as his fingers gripped my hip. “I can see why the ancients used to interact like this.” I could tell he was struggling with control; his eyes flashed hot and dark, and he kept his hand on my skin but pulled back a bit, drawing in several deep breaths.
There was little more I could do than nod in response. I forced myself to rein it all back in. I wanted to keep going and I knew he did too, but there was a wicked pleasure in slowly unraveling ourselves to each other. Plus, this was already so intense that I needed time to process it.
With a small smile, Marshal pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead and wrapped his arms around me, drawing me against his warm chest. That intense pleasure eased up a bit, giving me space to think as our breathing slowed down and our bodies relaxed. His languid, leisurely strokes over my hair, down my spine suddenly made me tired, and I smothered a yawn, closing my eyes and melting in his embrace. Plus, the stress of today and our trip to the surface…it was all hitting me right now.
“I should go,” he said, regret tingeing his voice. “You look exhausted. And I have a lecture to give on ancient automobiles later in the morning.”
“Please don’t go yet.” I curled closer to him. “Can you just…stay for a little bit?” There was a part of me that didn’t want to be alone right now. And an even bigger part of me that didn’t want him to leave.
He cared about me, the way I did about him. I could feel it in his touch, see it in his eyes. As greedy as it might be, I needed that comfort right now.
“Sure.” He pressed his lips to my forehead once more, more nurturing in its affection than arousing.
“Oh,” I whispered as a thought popped into my mind. “I forgot to mention. I talked to Hanson earlier this morning. I want to se
e if I can bring him out of the public nursery to live with me. Here, in my pod or right beside it. With everything going on regarding the Machine, I don’t trust any of the instructors. Will you help me?”
“Of course.” He rubbed his hand along the base of my spine. “Now, relax. Let’s get a little sleep.” His voice was thick too, and I could sense he was just as tired as I was.
I let my eyes shutter closed and fell deep asleep.
* * *
Nine Days
I wasn’t sure how long I slumbered, except that it was the next day. I realized I missed dinner last night—not that it was a great loss. But my stomach was rumbling and my head was light from hunger.
Beside me, the bed was empty, though Marshal’s indentation still creased the other side of my pillow. He’d drawn the sheets over me as well. I smiled to myself. He must have slipped out earlier this morning for his lecture.
Something special and heady was bursting beneath my skin. I was filled with a sudden urge to shout to everyone how I felt about Marshal. It was so powerful, all-encompassing, demanding I acknowledge its presence even in spite of the chaos around me. And last night…I’d never felt anything like that before. Not even close.
This had to be what the ancients described as love. Maybe I could look for lectures on the subject and become more familiar with it.
I stopped that line of thought. Why should I trust what any of them told me? They were all feeding each other—and me—the same mistruths about the surface, about the Machine. The only thing left for me to do was go with my gut.
Maybe Kuno knew something about it?
A hot flush burned my cheeks. I rose out of bed and stretched then slipped back into my tunic. No, I didn’t think I could talk to Kuno about what had happened last night. Turning off isolation and manual mode, I asked the Machine to bring me dried fruits, figuring they might still be fit for consumption. It came instantly, served in a bowl. Nothing smelled bad, and a tentative bite confirmed it was okay. I ate half and stuffed the rest into my tunic pocket.
The red, fist-sized fruit from yesterday was still on my table, its surface smooth and gleaming. After I finished my morning routine, I would examine it closer, maybe even cut it open and see what its insides looked and smelled like.
I checked my messages. Most were the same as yesterday—panic over Machine errors, frustration over the same glitches, still not fixed. Marshal had left one as well, telling me he hoped we could talk later today. I could hear the softness in his voice, and my heart twitched in response.
Then my heart stuttered in surprise. There was a message from Tessa, simply asking me to call her back. What could she possibly have to say to me? Did she want to berate me some more, show me how very intelligent she was compared to me now?
The temptation was strong to ignore it. But perhaps I was a glutton for punishment. I tucked the piece of fruit away to hide it from the screen and responded.
She picked up quickly. “Cally, thank you for calling me.” Her tone was soft, gentle, unlike how she’d been in the lecture.
I was still skittish though, not quite ready to be on friendly terms with her. I schooled my voice to be level and replied, “Is there something I can help you with?”
Pause. Her face on the screen looked just as peaceful as always, never giving anything away. After everything I’d been through, that dissatisfied me. I was half tempted to tell her to come speak to me if she really wanted to talk, but then she said, “I think I came across the wrong way during my lecture, and I feel bad about it.”
I blinked. That wasn’t expected.
“In my efforts to look like an expert, I think I made you look bad. And my conscience has been beating me up ever since. I’m sorry, Cally.” The sincerity rang true.
Something in my splintered heart stitched back together. Still, there was a small part of me that was too afraid to completely release this edge of caution. I allowed myself to say, “I know you’re under a lot of stress right now. I certainly didn’t mean to add to it.”
“You didn’t. This was my fault and I’m glad you’re not upset with me about it. I’m trying so hard to be noble and upstanding, the model citizen.” She sighed. “But hurting peoples’ feelings isn’t part of that.”
“Sirama says to tell you hi,” I said to her. “I talked to her yesterday.”
“Oh, how is she?” Tessa asked, genuine warmth in her voice. “I haven’t messaged her in a long time. I should do that.”
“She’s well. Still refusing to take meds.” I laughed. “You know how she is, though. Likes to be as natural as possible.”
Tessa shook her head, chuckling. “She always was quite a character. But at least she made our lessons enjoyable. Remember the time that boy in our class…what was his name? Ollie?”
“Ollis,” I said, the mental image of his shock of rust-colored hair, green eyes and pasty white face popping into my mind. He was the only person I’d ever met with that shade of hair, and I never forgot it. Too bad he’d been such a jerk.
“That’s right. I recall that when Ollis talked back to her, saying he knew more about language than she did and that her lesson was boring, she made him teach the rest of the class, giving everyone permission to critique him. His ears were burning red for the rest of the day.”
“He used to glare at me all the time. I really didn’t like him at all,” I said with a laugh, shifting my hips on my chair to settle in deeper. The tension from my body had started to ease away.
“I don’t think anyone did.” She paused. “Anyway, I realized yesterday after the lecture that I’m sad you and I haven’t talked a lot lately—I’ve told you all about my recent life changes, but what have you been up to?”
I shrugged, trying to keep the gesture casual. There was no possible way I could tell her about going to the surface, an action so highly illegal it would likely cause me and Marshal to be convicted and sentenced with Homelessness—or maybe even worse. “Just…hanging out with Marshal and going to lectures.” That seemed safe enough.
Her eyebrow rose. “Do I hear a thread of something in your voice?”
I tried to shove back the hot flush staining my cheeks and throat. “What do you mean?”
“You and Marshal have been inseparable lately, from what I’ve heard.” She tilted her head, studied me. “What’s going on? You can tell me. We’re friends, remember?”
The last words undid my resolve to stay quiet. “Tessa, you can’t tell a soul,” I breathed. “I’m… Okay, I know this is going to sound crazy and uncivilized, but I’m developing feelings toward Marshal, and I think he feels the same way.”
“What?” Tessa blinked, her dark brown eyes fixing on me. “I don’t understand. What kind of feelings?”
I twisted my fingers in my lap, leaning forward just slightly. Now that I’d opened the gates to my emotions, they wanted to keep spilling out. “The kind where I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“Really? And he feels the same?” There was no censure evident in her voice, just plain curiosity.
I nodded.
“How far has this gone? I mean, you haven’t…” She cleared her throat, looking away for a moment. “Look, I’ve learned some things since starting the process to become a parent, and—”
“Oh, no!” I exclaimed, my face burning like fire now. I might not fully know what she was talking about, but I got the gist. Though he and I had been topless, we hadn’t been completely naked—and I could tell that was a big step, given how Marshal had stopped before then.
The temperature in my pod dropped quickly, and I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. The Machine had to be compensating for my sudden burst of heat.
“Nothing like that,” I continued. “Admittedly, I don’t know the whole process, but Marshal did explain some of it to me. No, there hasn’t been any kind of child created. But we did…” I stalled, wrestling with myself, wrestling with guilt over keeping this secret and wanting to keep this secret. I made myself forge ahead, needin
g to trust in her. “We did kiss.”
Tessa stared at me.
“You know,” I continued, “where your mouth and the other person’s mouth—”
“Yes, I know what kissing is,” she cut me off, her voice decidedly less warm than before.
My heart sank into my stomach.
“How could you do that, Cally? That was so unbelievably stupid. What if you were caught?”
I set my jaw, anger flaring in my belly in response to her words. “Excuse me?” I managed to grind out. “I’m not stupid. And who are you to judge me?”
“It’s hard to not judge when you’re taking such idiotic risks,” she replied, sounding annoyed. “You of all people should know that’s going far beyond the line of reason. Haven’t you listened to anything Hanna told you?”
How could she bring my mother into this? That raw edge of pain from her rejection was still there, despite my efforts to ignore it. “You have no idea what’s going on with our relationship,” I said, willing myself to keep the shakiness from my voice, “so don’t presume to lecture me on how to be a model citizen or daughter.”
“No, I wouldn’t dream of trying to tell the great and almighty Cally how to try to fit in. She knows more than everyone else.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “It makes me so mad that you take for granted how good you have it—your mother is on the Committee. You probably could have had an ‘in’ with them, just by virtue of your birth. It should have been me, not you. I’m the one who is a model citizen. ”
And now we got to the real issue here. Tessa’s core emotion wasn’t just anger. It was jealousy.
I couldn’t help the scoff that spilled out of me. “You want it? You got it. Take it all—I don’t care.”
None of that posturing and pretending meant anything, anyway. Not when I’d seen the truth with my own eyes on the surface of the supposedly ravaged and unlivable earth. Something I’d never be able to share with her or anyone else.
“What is wrong with you? Can’t you see how dangerous this path you’re traveling down is? This isn’t just about you and Marshal doing your silly games—and yes, I know all about it. He told me a couple of months ago how you two like to run up and down the tunnels.” She rolled her eyes, disdain dripping from every word she spoke. “But this is spiraling out of control. You have to stop. Now.”
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