CHAPTER 3
Mooralan steps through the door and I blink at him for a moment.
It’s not that his picture was a lie, I think I may have missed some smaller details. For one, he’s shorter than I thought. For another, he’s missing fingers on one of his hands. Neither of those things are a problem and I reset my expectations quickly.
“Hello,” I say with a soft smile.
His client file said he speaks English, which doesn’t surprise me. I’ve been told it’s one of the easier galactic languages to learn… unless your anatomy makes it impossible.
“Hello, Jade.” His voice is heavily accented and something about the gravel in it makes me want to shiver.
He’s wearing a jumpsuit and it makes him look bigger… or maybe that’s the coating of dust.
He looks down at himself as if following my gaze. “I apologize for my appearance. A work issue meant I had to take a later shuttle, so I was unable to change before I came. Let me clean off, and we can begin.”
“Sure.” I try not to feel resentment for that job taking time away from me. It’s paying my bills, after all.
But he doesn’t move right away, his gaze travels over me and he smiles. “Sorry. I’m just imagining you covered in my cum again.”
“The faster you shower, the faster you’ll get to see it in real life.”
He huffs a little breath, like a laugh and says, “Will you keep me company while I do?”
“Of course.”
He exhales and unzips his jumpsuit as he goes, all of his arms working in tandem to get it down to his hips.
I follow behind him to the bathroom, ignoring the small robot vacuums that hurry out to deal with the dusty boot prints he leaves behind.
He strips down, and I watch the way his muscles move under his orange skin. When he places his jumpsuit and boots in a compartment that will clean them for him and turns back to me…
He looks exactly like the picture… except for the blue dust on his hands and in the lines of his face.
Otherwise, his orange skin is smooth—save for a few scars—all the way down to his thick, cock with its fun cuboid head and… the translucent balls I had only seen in the picture before.
He doesn’t mind my staring, so I keep looking.
“What do you do?” I ask as I hop up onto the counter and pull one knee to my chest, gaze never leaving him.
He steps under the spray and I don’t expect him to answer, but he does. “I am a line operator at one of the ore processing plants on the planet’s surface.”
“Yeah?” I’m a little distracted by the fact that he doesn’t seem to need to breathe. “Do you like your job?”
“Most of the time.” He scrubs at his hair with the provided soap. “It’s not easy, but no one’s died this year and I haven’t lost any fingers in the last six, so…”
He winks at me and the water twists down his back in deep blue rivulets.
I watch those streams for a moment before I remember I want to ask him more. “Do you live down there?”
“Thankfully no.”
“Thankfully?” I did not expect that.
He turns and looks at me through the open shower door.
“The nice parts of the planet are touristy, which is fine if you’re a tourist. But when you’re not, it’s very easy to learn to hate those tourists, and besides that, it’s needlessly expensive.
The rest of the planet… Anywhere that has easy access to the shuttles and the general necessities is going to be close to the mines or the plants.
And in both of those places everything gets covered in a coating of yeveron dust, eventually.
“Even you?” I ask, pointedly looking at the last of the blue powder that has made its way down his legs.
“Even me.” Smiling, he starts to say something and then shakes his head, thinking better of it.
But I can’t let him get away with not asking “What?”
“I just remembered I’m not allowed to ask you questions.”
My smile fades and I’m glad he’s closed his eyes to wash the soap from his face. I want to know what he wants to ask me… but there’s a privacy restriction on that for a reason.
I can always lie if it’s something I don’t want to answer, or can’t.
I tap the bulkhead twice and the bot makes a small sparkly noise.
Mooralan looks up and then at me, but before he asks, I say, “Remove question privacy rules.”
“Question privacy rules removed until reinstated.”
“Thanks.” I look at Mooralan. “Ask away.”
He smiles at me, softly, and I clutch my knee a little closer, swinging my leg even though I don’t want to fidget.
“Do you like your job?”
Shrugging, I answer the same way he did. “Most of the time.”
“Only most of the time?”
“I like it right now.”
“And when don’t you like it?” He turns off the shower and pulls a towel from the wall.
“When I don’t like it, I go home empty-handed for the day.”
He glances at me before he asks. “Does that happen often?”
“No.”
I hold out my hand and he offers me the towel. I take it and his wrist, drawing him to me so that I can work on drying him off the rest of the way.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” I say, “but men are almost as fun as they are easy.”
“And how easy are we?”
“Very.”
He dries off quickly and we linger in the bathroom for a moment as a question flutters across my mind. “What happens if you come in me?”
“I don’t actually know. Other Bliteens absorb our cum. But one woman almost died when I didn’t pull out of her mouth on time. It’s a mistake I will not make again.”
I chuckle as he traces my lips with a damp finger, playing with my piercings.
“Glazing it is then.”
His brows pinch. “I don’t know what that means.”
“It means,” I say, lifting his hand and sucking on his fingertip. “That we are going to go have fun and when the time comes, you are going to come all over me, just like you did before. Except you’ll get to see the fruits of your labors first hand.”
He lifts me off the counter, setting me on the ground and as he looks me over, I expect him to say something about my height, but he doesn’t. No “tiny human” or “little girl” from him.
He takes my hand and leads me back out to the bedroom, straight to the window.
“Room number one is supposed to be the best,” he says as he slips my shirt up and I raise my arms so he can get it off.
“You can see the planet’s southern oceans and the rings at the same time.” His hands ghost over my breasts, six of them feeling my skin while two slip fingers inside the tiny shorts. “But I think this one is the best.”
“Why?”
He leans close and whispers. “All the beauty, none of the distraction.”
“Something tells me you’re not that easily distracted.”
“By you I am.” He slips the shorts all the way down and I step out of them as his hands explore me. All of them. Thirty-seven fingers mapping my skin…
My reflection is faint, but my brain fills in the bits I can’t actually see.
“I’m glad you asked for today,” his lips brush against my collar bone. “Yesterday, I wanted you so badly, I might have broken half the furniture in here. Today, I can savor you.”
“Breaking furniture could be fun.” I flinch at the soft touch of his fingers skating over my stomach.
“Later.” He smiles against my skin and I feel him laugh.
I lace my fingers in his. “What is it?”
“I was just thinking… yesterday, I would have been too tired to perform in a way that would have let you truly enjoy it.”
“Most men wouldn’t care about that.”
“They would if they’d like to see you a third time.”
We’ve barely gotten to the second. All we’ve really done is talk. And talking isn’t what he’s booked me for.
I turn in his arms, wrapping mine around his neck and pull him down to kiss him, but I stop, just short. “Does that mean you’re ready to perform?”
One of his hands presses at the base of my spine, moving me forward until I’m flush against his cock. It’s so hard, it digs into me, the little barbs poking.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since yesterday.” Hands on me, he picks me up so that neither of us have to strain when he kisses me. “Do you know how difficult it is to work when the mere thought of you has made me hard at least ten times today?”
“I don’t.” I bite his bottom lip. “But I would love for you to show me what you’ve been daydreaming about.”