Chapter Four #2
“All right. I just... Well, human ovulation usually lasts for a much shorter window, and the feelings are fleeting. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“Eh, hopefully it takes the first time, and that’ll be the end of it.”
Marcus gave her a quizzical look. “Well. Perhaps. Everyone is different. I’d better go. We have another batch of applicants to screen, and when Gideon arrives, I’ll be monitoring him as he recovers from hypersleep.”
“Is there anything I should do?”
“Rest. Read. Uh. I... Well, you’ve read all the materials. I’ll leave you to it.”
Marcus walked from her quarters with a little wave.
“Leave me to what?” Sasha muttered after the sliding silvery doors sealed behind him. What material had she read? What was he going to say?
She shrugged it off, chewing her thumbnail as she began to pace. Sasha was more worried about meeting this stranger. She had at least read Farhet’s profile and seen his picture. She could ask Marcus if she could do the same for Gideon.
“What good would that do?” she muttered, forcefully flinging her hand from her mouth.
She hadn’t bitten her nails in almost six weeks.
She wasn’t going to start now. “I saw the picture, read up on the last match, and that turned out to be a disaster. I’ll just be blunt with this guy.
I’ll say, “Be honest. If you don’t like me or the way I look, say so.
Let’s decide if we can tough it out anyway.
Let’s see if we can be mature for the literal good of the Felid race. ”
Her other hand made its way to her lips, forefinger tapping her teeth, which was better than biting the nail down to the nub, she supposed. Someone was depending on her.
Why did I think I could do this? No one has ever depended on me. I never had anyone to depend on, either, not since abuela passed...
Because you had a chance to earn a lot of money doing it, that’s why. Because you get away from the slums and the dead-end jobs, something you could never afford before, even when Abuela was alive.
Her eyes prickled suddenly, and she brushed her wrist across them, scowling. No tears. No time for that.
You’d better rein in your emotions, Sasha, and do it now, before they pump you full of drugs that’ll make you horny—well, that might make other women horny.
Not me. You have to like sex to crave it.
How would you know? argued a snide little voice in her head.
She stopped in front of the mirror, horrified to see how flushed her face was, how red and blotchy she looked from holding in tears of frustration, confusion, and most of all, loneliness.
No one to depend on you, no family left, no real friends back home... She could talk to Abi or Kaylee.
And let them see you’re an unstable emotional wreck?
Sasha didn’t give herself permission to acknowledge that the whole situation was new and overwhelming, or that her experience with Farhet and the shock of this “surrogate sperm donor” would all be perfectly acceptable reasons to feel upset. Some would say a good cry was just what she needed.
To her, crying meant weakness, and weakness meant danger. Being taken advantage of. Losing things you couldn’t afford to lose.
Like this job.
She sat on the bed, breathing shakily in through her nose and out through her mouth, nibbling on her nails as she forced the tears to stay below the surface.
GIDEON WOKE UP TO A frowning Leonid face above his.
“Gideon?” the graying Leonid asked.
He tried to answer and found his lips were too dry to unstick from his teeth.
“You have an electrolyte patch on you, and we’ve got a fluid cocktail ready as soon as you can sit up,” the kind voice urged, slowly elevating his head.
Gideon ran his tongue around his mouth. “Hello.”
“Do you know where you are and why you’re here?”
He blinked. Yes, he knew. He was here for work.
Breeding.
No surrogacy, a noble gift.
With a carnal twist.
He blinked the confusion away. “Comet Stalker. Coordinates from autonav worked?”
“They did, indeed. In a day or two, you’ll be ready to get up and move to your own quarters. We’ll start the screening now so you can leave quarantine. I have your labs from Bastet Mercy. Everything looks right.”
Another nod. Another slow blink. “Days?”
“Most people adjust from hypersleep in a few days, yes. A week is not unheard of. Skyla, bring me a second patch? I’m Dr. Marcus. This is my assistant, Skyla. That’s Dax.”
Gideon saw a Dholian Canid and a blonde, curly-haired male human slide into view. A second electrolyte patch was pasted onto his paw.
“It’s good to have you on board!” Dax grinned.
“You already had someone come and check on you. Miss Cordovair. Sasha. The surrogate.”
“Oh.” He managed a soft sound.
“You were still under, but she did try to visit.” Dr. Marcus’ kind face turned stern. “Your employer was very rude to her. I hope you will learn from his mistake.”
“Always polite,” he croaked, trying to wet his lips.
Dax held a large cup up to his lips. “Sip on that. It’ll help with the talking.”
In minutes, Gideon had drained the cup, and he started to feel more alert, struggling to sit up. Dr. Marcus raised the bed further and patted his shoulder. “You and Miss Cordovair have something in common. Both of you shake off hypersleep like a champ.”
“Have I missed the window? The window where her injections...”
Marcus frowned. “No, no. We haven’t started them yet. We won’t, either, until you two see if you’re compatible.”
Gideon hesitated. Emotionally compatible? Physically? He was too tired to have a physical reaction, and yet he was starting to feel a questionable urge in his lower half. The thought of actually being intimate with someone, with anyone, of knowing what it was like... “My employer—”
“I should make it very clear to you, Gideon, that on board the Comet Stalker, and while you’re under my care, I am the boss of the medical protocol, but you and Miss Cordovair are partners in the endeavor.
Farhet has no say in anything from this point on.
If he tries to push or rush you, I will have his communications blocked. Now. You rest.”
Gideon smiled. Freedom was starting early. His head lolled back, and he sighed.