CHAPTER 25
Hannah slams the rookery door behind us, locking it as if a dozen Rakhii have chased us here.
(If a dozen had, or even a lone Rakhii, this flimsy rookery door would stand no chance against them, locks or no, but I appreciate her protectiveness.)
Then Hannah turns and throws herself into my arms.
My wings escape my cape and move to wrap around her—but with a growl of determination, I force them back. I must comfort Hannah without sex, at least for a few moments. I must contact my planet and inform them of Inara’s whereabouts.
“I will comfort you with sex as soon as possible,” I tell Hannah’s mane.
Julie, behind us, sighs. Her voice moves toward the food preparation area. “I want a hot guy to give me comfort sex as soon as possible.”
“But first,” I tell Hannah, “I need that parchment rectangle you retrieved for me.”
Without removing herself from my person, without even pulling her face from where she has it buried against my chest right beneath my hearts, Hannah retrieves it from her pocket and passes it to me.
“Jonoh, can you send me a hot guy?” Julie calls. “Do you have any lonely friends you could hook me up with or something?”
“I need sewing therapy,” Hannah mumbles into my chest where she has her face pressed. The vibration of her words over my hearts is slight, but it wreaks absolute havoc on my system.
To calm myself, I pet over her mane, careful not to disrupt her braids.
I rather enjoy what has become our couples routine, when we sit on the tri-seat furniture and quilt together, or work on clothing. She always invites me to join her and it has become a bonding pastime I quite look forward to. I clear my throat, but my voice has deepened to an ardent rasp. “I will sew with you if you’d prefer.”
“After sex is fine,” Hannah says, her hand rubbing up and down my back—perilously close to brushing against my wings, which are folding down, hoping to catch her hand.
I force them back up, holding them aloft just enough that they don’t make contact with her.
But I purr in agreement. “After I contact my people, I will make love with you until we are sated and reassured, and then we will partake in sewing therapy together.”
“It’s like he was made for you,” Julie moans, observing us from the common social activities room now, from the sound of her voice’s traveling. “Ugh, I want one.”
I hear the smile in Hannah’s voice. “An RHHSS?” she asks. Her hands slide down to my backside and squeeze.
I suck in a breath. My wings have snapped open and hover around her. This cape may be stylish, but it allows my wings too much freedom, too much opportunity for escape.
“A soulmate beamed down from the heavens,” Julie sighs. “Hannah, you are such a lucky witch. I could kick you.”
I spin around, forming a shield for Hannah as I face off in Julie’s direction. “You will not harm Hannah,” I order, and stare at Julie in firm warning.
Julie flops back against the tri-seat, looking most defeated. “I don”t mean it.” She sighs yet again. “Sorry, Hannah. I’m horny and trying not to be jealous.”
Lonely.She doesn’t say it, but I believe Julie is lonely. For a source of sexual fulfillment, yes, but also for affection. For a lifespan of partnership. For love. It’s understandable that Julie’s desire for a mate has reached aggressive levels. She’s no doubt been spurred on by the fact she’s been forced to witness the utter bliss Hannah and I are experiencing. Determining that she has no plan to harm Hannah, I relax my stance. “I can call available males to you,” I offer to Julie as I reach back to clasp Hannah’s hand. “I need to contact my people. I can ask them for eligible males for you after I make my report in just a moment.”
Hannah gives my fingers a squeeze.
Petting my cat, who is forcing her attentions on her, Julie stares at me. “You can just request males who are interested in a committed relationship?”
“Of course.” I draw out my Comm.
“‘Of course,’ he says, like that’s a given,” Julie says, staring at me in disbelief. Disbelief that rapidly melts to hope. “Yeah, you know what? Call them.”