Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Sorin
“ A quick farewell,” John Smith tells the Females, as he bundles Briar and I back into the kitchen, where the others are waiting. “Then Briar and Sorin must leave. We have a strict schedule to follow, remember.”
“You’re sending Briar away as a punishment for speaking against you,” Lydia accuses, but John Smith ignores her, gesturing at Chloe to take up her position before one of the cameras. He shuffles her sideways a few steps, double checking the camera angles on his datapad, clearly wanting Briar, Harlee and Lydia in the background of Chloe’s shot, saying their farewells.
I shuffle to the far wall, out of the camera’s direct line of sight, making sure to keep a tight hold of Briar’s bag, positioning it awkwardly in front of my groin. When we’d been outside a few moments ago, with the wind blowing up Briar’s dress and exposing more of her pale skin, a feeling akin to fire had raced along my veins, heating my blood.
And then, when Briar had patted me on the back, the touch of her small hand against my scales had nearly undone all my hard work not thinking about touching her. Not remembering how she had felt in my arms, pressed to my chest. Not imagining tracing her bare curves first with my hands and then with my tongue, tasting her impossibly soft skin.
Even now, guilty tendrils of selfish pleasure are winding their way through my chest, knowing I am to be returning to the quiet of my cottage, knowing I am going to have Briar to myself.
Away from my brothers, I might have the chance to prove to Briar that I can be a good Mate.
“Action!” John Smith’s shout startles me out of my memories.
“The first of our contestants have coupled up,” Chloe says, speaking into her microphone as, behind her, Briar hugs Harlee and Lydia goodbye. “The real question is if Briar and Sorin will still want to be paired at the end of their twenty days? Keep watching LOVE GALAXY to find out.”
“Cut! Perfect.” John Smith nods at his assistant. “Now, we’ll get a shot of Briar and Sorin setting off for Sorin’s house together. Then, we’ll transition into footage of the other four completing their first group task.”
With anticipation a hard lump in my chest, I lead Briar from the kitchen and into the tunnel which connects the main house to my cottage. Everyone follows.
There are lights set into the ceiling, but their illumination only reaches so far, leaving most of the tunnel in darkness. Before us sits a single cart on the track where usually there are no fewer than three carts.
“Where are—” I begin, but John Smith interrupts.
“One cart is enough.”
One is most certainly not enough, but I clench my jaw to keep from arguing.
“Every few days, I’ll set you a task to complete.” He points a finger at Briar and me. “And remember, if you’re together, don’t look directly at any of the cameras. But when you’re alone, then you’re allowed to look, and we’ll use those private segments as the individual interviews for the different episodes.”
“Bloody hell.” Briar winces. “Can the cameras read our minds?”
“No.” John Smith gives her a hard stare. “Say your thoughts aloud.” He speaks unnecessarily slowly. “Talk about your feelings. Analyze what happened during the day. That sort of stuff.”
“It was a legitimate question,” she mutters. “This is an alien planet. Maybe cameras can read thoughts.” But her voice is low, as if she is speaking more to herself than to John Smith. Turning to me, she tilts the corners of her mouth up. “Lead the way, Sorin. I’m all yours.”
I deposit Briar’s bag in the footwell, and I clamber into the cart, tripping over my feet and feeling suddenly too large for my own body.
No matter how far I lean to one side, no matter how small I try to make myself, it is evident to absolutely everybody that there is no space left on the seat for Briar. She gifts John Smith another narrow-eyed glare and grasps my shoulder with one small hand.
Before I have fully comprehended what she intends to do, Briar is seated on my lap, her back pressed to my front.
I reach gingerly around her to the control panel and press the button for the overhead hatch to descend, sealing us into the cart. And, more importantly, sealing everyone else outside.
“Full steam ahead,” Briar says, leaning back so she can look up at me. Her weight shifts over my thighs and her pert ass presses against my groin in what I can only describe as welcome torture.