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Chapter Six

A r’Tok

‘Wake up, Sunshine. That’s what my Mom always used to say,” Star says in a happy, chirpy voice I’ve never heard her use before.

My eyes pop open to see her face alight with a wide smile. I barely slept last night, tossing and kicking off the covers. Although I’m still not used to a bed, it wasn’t the soft mattress that was the problem. It was our conversation.

I figured I’d never tell anyone my history—my shame. The other males on the ship certainly didn’t need to know, and I foresaw no female in my future.

I never dreamed the story of my disgrace would pass my lips, and certainly didn’t think I’d be telling it to the most beautiful female in the galaxy. I assumed I’d wake this morning to an empty bed, that Star would have asked the management for another room.

But here she is, and I can’t dispute the fact that she looks happy to be here.

“We have a lot to do this morning. Potty if you have to, then your presence is requested back in this bed,” her voice is commanding, but her face is still beaming.

I slide out of bed and hit the bathroom, still wondering what’s going on.

“No other living being has ever looked so good in a pair of sleep pants,” she calls through the closed door.

When I wander out, face washed and teeth brushed, she points to the bed and orders, “Sit against the headboard.”

“Care to fill me in?”

“No. You’ll like it. That’s all I’m going to divulge,” she says haughtily, her chin tilted up as if I violated an unwritten rule.

“I’m going to blindfold you,” she announces, then her voice gets softer, and she adds, “unless you object.”

“I’ll like it?” my voice sounds calm, but alarms are blaring in my head.

“Yes. Possibly love it.”

This is about trust—interesting. Every internal buzzer and siren is screaming at me, but I slide onto the bed, lean against the headboard, and close my lids.

After wrapping a soft cloth around my eyes, she ties it behind me. A door opens and closes, then I hear furniture sliding across the plush carpeting, dishes clattering, and the smell of food wafts under my nose.

“Ready?” her voice is perky.

“No,” mine is grumpy.

“I’ll ask again in ten minutes. In the meantime, say stop if you want me to, otherwise it’s game on.”

Her slight weight dips onto the bed, then she straddles me. Did she suggest I’d love this? I’m already halfway there. If she scooted up half a fierto , her sex would ride mine. Is that what’s on the menu?

Her hands rest on my shoulders, and she leans to brush her lips against mine. Soft kisses. No tongue. My cock strains toward her.

“Oh, look what we have here,” she announces, not at all embarrassed to call attention to the heavy erection bobbing at my hips. A soft hand slips under my pants, envelops me, then strokes from base to tip. Just once.

“Sorry, Ar’Tok. We’re here for a tasting of an entirely different sort. Although I’ve got to admire your instincts.”

I never dreamed I’d have a female to banter with like this, with good-natured teasing. This could be addictive.

She kisses me again, licks the seam of my lips until I open to her, then coaxes my tongue out into the open.

“Yes. Right where I want you. I got up early and arranged an entire day of festivities for us. The first is food tasting. I’ve grown up with hydroponic fruits and veggies along with simulator food. You grew up with . . . I don’t want to picture it. We have a lot of food from all over the galaxy to explore.

“I’ll start first.” I hear her chew. “Hmm. I’ll let you make your own judgments, so I won’t tell you my opinion until you’ve had your taste.”

She slides the bite of food down my tongue from the center to the tip, dragging it slowly, so I taste it fully. Then she leaves it in my mouth for me to chew.

“Three words,” she says. “Describe it in three words.”

“Sweet. Tart. Fresh. What were yours?”

“Delicious, complex, firm. If you had to guess, what color is this food?”

“Pink,” I say without thinking.

“Right on. Here.” She slides my blindfold to my brow and hands me a deep pink fruit that has tiny seeds on the outside of its round flesh.

“Like my game?”

I nod, then add, “No nasty surprises?” Drack , why did I allow that to slip out? It implies I don’t trust her, and really, how could I trust someone I’ve known for such a short time? But I want to. I want to trust her.

“I have a day filled with wonderful surprises for you Ar’Tok. For us both. Not a nasty one on the agenda. Try this,” she says before I can apologize.

After pulling my blindfold to cover my eyes, she pops the next piece of unidentified food into my mouth. The game goes on for a while with no order as to whether the next bite will be sweet or savory. There were no nasty surprises, although we both agreed two of the foods were awful.

Her description of the first terrible tasting one was, “Nasty, disgusting, terrible.” Mine was, “ Drack , bitter, never again.”

“That was four words,” she scolds, then makes up for it by kissing me.

“My turn,” I announce.

“But I know what’s under all the domes, you won’t be able to surprise me.”

“There are other ways to surprise you,” I say as my mind throws me a dozen pictures of things I can do to surprise Star in bed.

A moment later, she’s sitting against the headboard, a folded pillowcase acting as her blindfold. The tips of her breasts point at me through the shirt fabric. I’m not hungry anymore, I’d rather taste other, more intimate things.

Moving her legs as if she were a doll, I split her wide, the soles of her feet on the mattress. Then I slide my pelvis so close to her my cock rides her slit, my knees at her hips. If we weren’t clothed, I’d lift her hips and slip inside her in this position.

She gasps, her mouth open in surprise—and arousal. I hadn’t realized how quickly my actions would take us from having fun to erotic bed-play.

“Ar’Tok?” she asks, breathless.

I was right. I had other ways to surprise her.

There’s a little bowl of a frothy, white confection. I dip my finger in and taste it to make certain I don’t put something in her mouth she wouldn't like. It’s sweet and airy.

A dirty thought darts into my head. I could dip my cock into this and have her lick it off. My cock loves this idea and kicks in anticipation. Instead, I swipe my finger into it, order, “Tongue,” and wait for her to comply.

Look at that little pink tongue. I can’t help but imagine it lapping at me, dancing on the head of my cock, tasting what I have to give her. I can’t stifle the groan that escapes me as I picture her head bobbing on me.

“Arousing?” she asks.

I guess it’s obvious.

“It is for me, too. There are so many things I want to share with you Ar’Tok.”

I press my cream-laden finger past her lips and into her warm mouth. My lips at her ear I urge, “Lick me, Star.” She needs no more encouragement as she swirls and sucks and then, just as I’d envisioned, she bobs that pretty head, her long black hair shimmering in the sunlight spilling between the drapes.

A knock interrupts. It’s so jarring I startle.

“Madam? You requested these clothes be delivered for your excursion?” a soft female voice announces through the door.

“Can you get that?” Star asks, her voice a cross between a moan and a complaint.

After the female at the door gives me a thin pile of clothes, I turn to see Star pull off her blindfold and climb out of bed.

“Sorry.” She shrugs. “My mom always told me not to start something I couldn’t finish—she was right. We have no more time for bedroom games. We have,” she glances at her wrist-comm, “thirty minutes to be at the front entrance to catch our hover. Do you want the shower first, or should I?”

I shrug. Is there a written protocol somewhere for morning shower arrangements?

“Eat some real food while I shower. We’re going to be gone a while.”

She’s almost to the bathroom when she turns on her heel, pads over to me, and grabs something from the pile in my hands.

“Wear this under your pants.”

This is a scrap of black fabric. It’s clearly meant to cover my cock and ass and very little more. I lift my eyebrow in question, but she simply grabs what’s left of the pile and returns to the bathroom. Fifteen minimas later she emerges, fully dressed.

“Famished,” she explains as she scrapes oozing yellow liquid from a fowl egg onto a piece of toast and shovels it into her mouth while she stands. “We need to be out the door in ten minutes.”

Ten minimas later I’ve pulled what the females call ‘cargo pants’ over the little stretchy underwear, along with a soft shirt Zar loaned me.

“How am I going to keep my hands off you all day?” Star jokes as we sweep down the hall toward the lift. “Holy shit!” She stops walking so abruptly I almost yank her arm off.

“Hi, Willa,” I say as I stop my forward motion and back up to stand next to Star.

“What. Is. That?” Star asks, pointing at WarDog who is positioned protectively next to Willa. The canine is poised at her hip with a fierce ruff of mane around his face.

“That’s WarDog,” Willa says. “You must be Star. I thought we might meet last night, but you never came down for dinner. Thanks, by the way. I hear you’re responsible for getting us this all-expense-paid vacation.”

Star’s mumbled, “Hi,” is all but lost in her quest to hurry to the other end of the hallway.

“WarDog, sit,” Willa orders. The canine complies, his head is now above her waist.

Willa and this beast were on the slave ship that was carrying me to auction. We shared a cell for a few days. I’d just been released from prison the day before we met and had never seen a pet. His teeth are long and sharp and look like they could separate a male’s head from his neck with one bite.

“He scared me when I first met him. I thought he would kill me,” I admit to Star as I succeed in stopping our backward motion. “He’s Willa’s pet.”

“He’s just a big teddy bear,” Willa announces as she lovingly scratches the crown of his head.

“Okaay,” Star says, not stepping one fierto closer.

“Want to pet him?”

“NO.”

WarDog crawls on his belly toward us, then rolls on his back.

“That’s how dogs tell you they have no desire to hurt you. He’s friendly, honey,” Willa explains.

“We’ve got a hover-limo to catch,” Star says as she hugs the wall, avoiding the canine on her way to the lift. “Maybe another day.”

Once we’re alone on our way to the lobby, Star says, “Another day? How about never? That creature scared the living shit out of me.”

“Was that slang?” I ask, craning my head to see her ass, “or did you mean it?”

She playfully slaps my shoulder. “I love it when you tease, Ar’Tok. You look even more handsome when you smile.”

When it’s just us and the driver inside the hover-limo, I ask, “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Yesterday I promised, no, as I recall I vowed to do whatever I could to help you believe you deserve happiness and a good life. One of the reasons I want good things for you is that you helped me live through the scariest night of my life.

“I thought I was dying. Actually, I knew I was dying, but I held onto your words. All night long you enticed me to live by reminding me of all the things there were to live for. Do you remember some of them? I do. Your calm, deep voice is etched in my brain. You told me about the fresh smell of rain, and the salt of the ocean, and the wind in my hair. Remember?”

“Of course.”

“And now that I know you better, your secret’s out. You imagined most of that. You’ve never tasted the ocean either, have you? We’re going to experience it for the first time. Together.”

Gods, her happy face is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. If we weren’t harnessed to the seat, I’d pull her onto my lap and kiss her until we were breathless. I’ll just have to settle for holding her hand.

“Count me in,” I tell her.

Less than two hoaras later, a reptilian who looks to be in his teens is instructing us on how to wear nothing more than a harness attached to a wire while flying down a mountainside. A steep mountainside at that.

“Remind me what, exactly, I said to give you the impression I wanted to die like this?” I ask.

“We’re not going to die,” Star scoffs while adjusting her harness. “You said, and I quote, ‘someday you’ll know what it’s like to feel the wind blowing through your hair’. Well, bro, today’s the day.”

“Bro? I didn’t know we were related.”

“Slang. Don’t change the subject. Ready?”

“What was the expression you used earlier? It scared the shit out of you? The idea of zipping down the mountain on this slim wire is doing that to me. Perhaps you should go first.”

“No problem.”

We’re on a decidedly unstable platform in what Star informed me is one of five rainforests on the planet. I watch as the young staffer checks Star’s rigging one more time, then lets her go. Her scream echoes back to me, but I don’t worry about her. She’s obviously having the time of her life.

“Ar’Tooookkk,” she whoops. “This is funnn!”

She curves out of sight, so I can’t see if she landed properly on the next platform, but the guide checks his wrist-comm and smiles at me. “She’s good. You ready?”

I gaze out at the canopy of green and blue leaves dotted with red flowers lofting above me, and peer over the platform’s edge to look down five or ten stories to the ground below. My heart thumps so hard and fast I can feel it thrumming through my chest.

I’m not ready. I turn to stone, my muscles refusing to follow my direction. It doesn’t help that the guide sees my panic and mutters under his breath, “The little female had no fear.”

Why is that, I wonder. Both Star and I were raised in small spaces and never left the building we were born in. Why is it that little Star, who’s two heads shorter and a hundred dextans lighter than me embraced this challenge while I’m standing here like a frightened child?

It strikes me like a lightning bolt that she had one thing I didn’t. She had family cheering her on, telling her she could do anything and could succeed at anything she put her mind to. I had no support. I had to muddle through life after my mother died knowing there was no one in the galaxy who cared if I lived or died. Maybe my aunt, but she visited for half an hoara once a lunar . And I don’t know if it was out of concern or obligation.

“Ar’Tok!” Star’s voice carries through the humid air. “It was wonderful. I can’t wait to see your handsome face.”

Well, I have support now. I’m going to do this. And by the Gods, I’m going to accept any challenge thrown my way today.

“Let’s go,” I tell the young male, “I have someone waiting for me on the next platform.”

He shoves me off and I could swear my heart quits beating for half the ride. Then I pay attention to the warm air on my face and sifting through my cirr . I notice the rapid, shifting patterns of the sunlight on my face as it beams in through the thick canopy above me. And the feeling of freedom, as if I’m a bird flying on currents of air, transports me above any feeling I’ve ever experienced.

As I near the platform, I see Star’s happy, shining face, waiting for me. She’s clapping when I come to rest.

“High five,” she says as she raises a hand, obviously waiting for me to slap it. My questioning glance results in her response, “It means congratulations, you did it.”

“I don’t know what you were so scared of,” I tease.

“I know, right?” She plays along. “Sometimes I make mountains out of molehills.”

We descend three more platforms, taking turns as to who goes first. It fills my heart with joy when I’m on the second platform, waiting for her to touch down. What a thrill to see her ecstatic face as she zooms in to join me.

On our last jump, we’re allowed to go side-by-side. It’s a longer distance than the others, with fewer degrees of descent, so it’s slower. We hold hands and point out the little frestas jumping from branch to branch. I hear birds cawing over the pounding of my heart.

When we’re almost down the mountain, I glance over at Star and find her gazing at me, a wide close-lipped smile painting her face with happiness.

“Having fun?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say as my feet touch the ground. More fun than I can express.

Star

My plan today was to have fun, experience many things for the first time, and to help Ar’Tok have a great day—maybe the first great day of his life.

I had no idea that I’d have the honor of watching him grow over the span of such a few short hours. We’re on a one-hour hover-ride to the ocean, our shoulders touching every time the driver banks too hard. When I bump against him, his muscles seem softer, as if he’s letting down his guard inch by inch.

The smile on his face is calmer, more genuine. It’s not like he’s straining anymore; it’s coming naturally.

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re going? I read that keeping secrets isn’t good for a relationship,” he chides.

“Well, I read that secrets are bad, surprises are good. I’m keeping a surprise, and you’re going to love it.”

I can’t withhold the surprise for too much longer, the vast ocean is now visible through the wide front window.

“I can’t believe how enormous it is,” he breathes. “Limitless. I can’t see the other side.”

Nor can I. Growing up on the satellite I knew only two things in relation to space: the size of our dwelling, and the infinity of space. Now that I’m on a planet, I can experience other spatial relationships, but this boggles the mind.

Even though the hover is enclosed, I think I smell the ocean.

“Here you are,” our driver says when we land. “I’ll wait for you by the bar. Over there,” he points, “is food and drink.”

I have my credits card in the slim pocket of my suit. “This is the bomb!” I say as I grab Ar’Tok’s hand and pull him toward the water.

“Madam and Mister!” our driver shouts. The tall, thin insectoid male scurries toward us. “Forgive my boldness, but I’d suggest you pay the ten credits each for those chairs with umbrellas. The attendant will make sure no one steals your things. See that station?” He points. “For one credit it will spray you with a mist that will keep your skin from burning in the sun. You,” he points his chin at Ar’Tok, “will be in pain in minimas if you don’t protect your pale skin. Have fun at Paragon’s finest beach.” He gives us a wide toothless smile and shambles back to the shack that serves alcohol.

“Thanks,” I call after him. “Let’s remember to tip the male,” I tell Ar’Tok.

As much as I want to run straight into the water, we follow all the recommended steps.

After the preliminaries, we’re standing about a foot from the water, holding hands, just taking it in.

“You’ve never been to the ocean, right?” I ask as I feel the breeze ruffle my hair.

“No.”

“As I remember, though, that night when I was on the Misfit you described this perfectly, down to the smell. How’d you do that?”

“I spent my life in a ten-by-ten cell. When I finally got access to books, I learned how to picture other worlds. In my mind, it’s like I’ve visited the ocean hundreds of times in the past.”

“Well, let’s see if you imagined the feel and taste correctly,” I say as I drop his hand and step into the water. It’s cool, far cooler than I’d thought it would be considering the ambient temperature is perfect. It’s not too chilly to swim, though.

I forge ahead until the water’s up to my waist, then gasp a shocked breath at how cold it is. My toes squelch into the sand under my feet. Closing my eyes, I enjoy the full-body experience of cold water and salt air and squishy toes and lapping waves. I’ve read my share of books, too, but I never could have envisioned it with this level of detail.

I imagine Ar’Tok behind me, cautiously inching in, maybe up to his ankles by now. When I turn to see him, he’s not there. Where’d he go?

Then a huge water animal surfaces at my side with a wet grunt, has the audacity to give my cheek a dripping kiss, and then stands on his feet laughing in excitement.

“How’d you do that?”

“As soon as I could slide under the water, I just . . . I have no idea. I think I was swimming.”

As if the wet kiss wasn’t bad enough, he shakes his head at me, flinging water from his cirr like it’s lethal projectiles.

“Ah!” I hold my hands up between us which does absolutely nothing to stop the barrage.

He dives into the water, only inches under the surface, and flutter-kicks away. Pivoting to watch, I feel my face stretch into a smile. I wonder about the Simkin race, did they evolve from the water? Here’s a guy who’s been out of his cell a total of two months, and acts as if he was born for this.

I inch farther out, so I’m up to my boobs, and just watch him for long minutes as he dives and surfaces. Occasionally he bobs up, waves at me, then submerges again. Although he’s out there exploring, the most dangerous thing I do is try to touch one of the tiny fish bold enough to approach me.

Half an hour later, Ar’Tok swims to me, stands, and says, “I’m going to teach you how to swim.”

He’s not playing around—no teasing smile, no abusive cirr pelting me with hard water droplets.

“Not today,” I tell him firmly. Now who’s the one who doesn’t want to try something new?

“Okay,” his voice is gentle, his expression open and kind. He’s going to let me take this at my own pace. “I’ll give you a ride.”

He stands in front of me, his back to my front, and with no further ado, lifts me onto him, so I’m riding piggyback.

“Put your arms around my neck.”

My legs surround his waist, my arms drape onto his chest, my breasts are smashed flat against his back. We’re wet and slippery and it strikes me that this is better than any dream I’ve ever had.

The sun creates shimmering stars on the water, and the sound of the ocean envelops us. We’re both half-naked—he’s in skintight shorts that leave nothing, and I do mean nothing, to the imagination. My one-piece suit, although it’s the most modest one for sale at the hotel store, hugs me so tightly now that it’s wet it reveals my hard-pricked nipples to a casual observer at one hundred paces. And Ar’Tok is not a casual observer.

The longest of his cirr wind around my arms to anchor me, and off we go. Ar’Tok kicks through the water as we swim farther from shore.

“Is this safe?” I ask, my wet lips at his ear.

“Yes. I was out farther than this a moment ago.”

How is it possible that he’s such a strong swimmer? I’ve never been this good at anything the first time I tried it. Well, maybe programming. Dad told me a million times I was a natural.

“This is magical,” I murmur, my mouth so close to his ear I’m sure he hears me.

“Yes,” he agrees, still kicking us through the water.

I don’t know if he understands the depth and breadth of what I’m saying, so I elaborate. “You in my arms, your wet skin under my fingertips, the sun ricocheting off the water. This is divine.”

He flips so fast I barely have time to panic before he’s treading water, holding me safely in his arms in the bridal position. We’re face to face. I can feel his warm breath caress my face. Without bidding, my tongue snakes out to catch the shining droplet of salty water hanging precariously from the tip of his nose.

We just gaze at each other, ridiculous grins on our faces. Is this what all the books are about? Was every love story ever written penned about this? This amazing feeling? Was every love song ever sung about this? Because my tummy is swirling and my heart is thumping and I feel overwhelmed with . . . I can’t say it. I can’t use the word.

“Don’t wake me,” he husks into my ear. “Don’t wake me from the best dream of my life. I’m afraid I’ll wake up in that cell again—that all of this was the product of my imagination.”

He pulls back, so he can look me in the eyes. “I’ll tell you one thing, Star. Even if this is a dream, it’s the best part of my life. Nothing could compare to this.”

His lips sink toward mine and he takes my mouth. In the past, he’s been gentle, maybe even tentative. Right this minute, though, there’s nothing tame about him. Maybe it was conquering the zip-line under the canopy of trees, or maybe it’s his ability to swim like a merman, but this male is kissing me like he’s not going to stop until he steals my breath away.

My hands tangle in his cirr , which return the favor by clutching onto me like they’ll never let me go. As if I wasn’t pressed close enough to him, he pulls me tighter, his tongue exploring me, savoring my taste as I’m savoring him. All I can detect is salt and flesh and liquid warmth.

The back of my mind vaguely wonders what would happen if a leviathan shot up from the seas and did backflips over our heads. Would either of us notice? We’re far too engrossed in each other to pay attention to anything but this, right here, right now.

My core is hungry for him. As if he can read my mind, he rearranges me, splitting my legs wide and nestling me against his rock-hard cock. This pulls a gasp from me as my eyes flare open. How can I live through this without bursting into flames?

“Tonight,” I promise. “I can’t wait for you any longer. We have to be together tonight.”

“We will,” he agrees as he rocks us together. Between his movement and mine and the rhythmic swaying of the sea, my passion ratchets past the point of no return. Need—the pure desperation of wanting this male—blasts through me.

My hands move to his hard buns, pressing him against me with even more force. “Yes, right there,” I say when the placement and rhythm are perfect. Squeezing my fingers into his shoulders as I ride him, I crush against him hard enough to hurtle over the edge of pleasure.

“Ar’Tok!” My passionate scream is carried off over the waves and out to the next continent. “I bit your neck,” I apologize when I realize what I did in the throes of passion. To make up for it, I kiss the red spot, then lick it.

“You must be dying for release,” I say as my hand sneaks between us and stealthily slips inside his shorts.

“Yes, I am,” he says, grasping my wrist and placing it back on his shoulders. “But I can wait until tonight in a proper bed.”

“Tonight,” I promise.