Page 18 of Reluctantly Abducted (Nereidan Compatibility Program #3)
I lean in to kiss him again, this time soft and sweet, without the earlier urgency. When I pull back, his eyes are closed, the smile still lingering on his lips.
"We should clean up," I say practically, though I'm reluctant to break this moment. "And I think I promised to show you how to make breakfast today."
His eyes open, and something flickers across his face, a shadow of the reality waiting for us beyond this room. Today is our last day together. In just a few hours, I'm scheduled to return to Earth.
"I would like that," he says, his voice regaining some of its usual formality, though his expression remains open. "But first, perhaps we could use the hydration chamber? I find I am in need of... refreshment."
The thought of Ry'eth in the water, his body illuminated by that ethereal blue-green glow, sends a fresh wave of desire through me despite our recent activities.
"Lead the way," I say, pressing one more kiss to his lips before we untangle ourselves from each other and the bed.
As we head to the hydration chamber, Ry'eth's hand finds mine, fingers intertwining with a casualness that belies the significance of the gesture. His skin is still warmer than usual, the light beneath it pulsing gently wherever our bodies make contact.
The hydration chamber is familiar to me now, the blue-green glow of the water no longer strange but welcoming. Ry'eth adjusts the settings with practiced ease, ensuring the temperature and mineral content are optimal for us both.
We're both naked, our bodies already known to each other in new and intimate ways.
Ry'eth's form is even more striking without clothes, lean but surprisingly muscular, his blue-tinted skin glowing from within, patterns of light shifting beneath the surface in hypnotic waves.
And then there's his impressive size, now relaxed but still substantial enough to make me raise an eyebrow appreciatively.
I don't miss the way his eyes widen slightly as they take in my naked form, or how the light beneath his skin pulses stronger in response. There's a flattering appreciation in his gaze that makes me stand a little straighter despite the lingering awkwardness of our situation.
The water embraces us as we enter, warm and slightly viscous, rich with minerals that make my skin tingle pleasantly.
Ry'eth moves through it with natural grace, his body clearly designed for this environment.
I follow with growing confidence from my previous experience, finding the buoyancy of the mineral-rich water familiar now.
We clean ourselves with the efficiency of people who know time is limited, though we can't seem to stop touching, a hand brushing across a shoulder, fingers trailing down a spine, bodies moving into each other's space as if drawn by gravity.
"I've been thinking," I say as we finish, the water having worked its magic on my tired muscles and sticky skin. "About breakfast."
"Pancakes again?" Ry'eth asks, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
I shake my head. "I was thinking pizza."
"Pizza? For the morning meal?"
"Breakfast pizza," I explain. "It's a thing on Earth. Eggs, cheese, maybe some vegetables on a pizza crust. The perfect hangover food, though that's not exactly our situation."
"Fascinating," he says, and I can't tell if he's genuinely intrigued or humoring me. "Your species' relationship with food continues to surprise me."
"In good ways, I hope," I reply, moving closer to him in the water.
"Yes," he admits. "In good ways."
We're close now, bodies nearly touching in the water.
I can feel the heat radiating from him, see the quickened pace of his breathing.
It would be so easy to pull him against me, to continue what we started in the bed.
But something tells me to wait, to let this moment be something different, a pause, a breath, before whatever comes next.
Instead, I lean in and press a gentle kiss to his forehead, then to each of his eyelids, and finally, softly, to his lips. It's more tender than passionate, a promise rather than a demand.
When I pull back, his eyes open slowly, looking into mine with an expression I can't quite read.
"Owen," he says, my name carrying a weight of meaning I'm not sure I understand.
"I'm here," I reply, because it seems like the right thing to say.
For now, at least, that's true. I'm here, with him, in this moment that feels suspended outside of time and consequence. In a few hours, we'll reach Earth orbit. In a few hours, decisions will have to be made that can't be unmade.
But right now, there's just us, and water, and light.
The navigation alert sounds as we're getting dressed, the sharp three-tone signal cutting through the comfortable silence between us.
"What's that?" I ask, though I can guess from the way Ry'eth's expression shifts.
"We're entering Earth's orbit," he says, his voice carefully neutral. "Earlier than anticipated."
Reality crashes back in. This isn't just our last day together, it's our last few hours. The decision point is approaching faster than either of us expected.
"How long?" I ask, not needing to clarify what I mean.
"Approximately four hours until we achieve stable orbit," he replies. "Six until the transport cycle can be initiated."
Six hours. Six hours until this ends. Six hours until I go back to my empty apartment and he returns to his research. Six hours of pretending that we're not both dreading the goodbye we've known was coming from the start.
"Then we still have some time," I say, forcing a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "Let's make the most of it."
His eyes meet mine, and I see in them a reflection of what I'm feeling, the desire to stretch these last hours as far as they'll go, even knowing it changes nothing. "Yes," he agrees, his voice steady despite the tumult of light beneath his skin. "We should."
We both know this has an expiration date. We both know that whatever happened between us, whatever is still happening, can't last beyond today. But as we finish dressing in a silence heavy with things unsaid, I can't help wishing things were different.
The clock is ticking. And neither of us can stop it.