Chapter 6
SIX
RóISíN
I clung to the rope, taking soft, shallow breaths as I tried not to look down another time.
I'd gotten up a heck of a lot higher than I thought I would go.
The climbing structure that adorned the edges and ceiling of the room seemed like an easier place to start than the more human looking like weight machines, or the treadmill room.
I'd seen several humans traipsing about on it like they were born to be spider monkeys previous times I'd come to this physical recreation room masquerading as a gym, and I thought that it looked like a lot more fun.
"Sure, Róisín," I hissed at myself. "Why not bite off more than you can chew? Nothing's more attractive to an alien than breaking your neck. You could have just started with some sit-ups or a Zumba class or something. You didn't have to climb right up to the top!"
The interwoven net rope ladder had seemed safe-looking, and was at a slight angle from the floor to the ceiling, so I kept going, feeling a thrill as I realized how much fun it was to put one foot after another, climbing up the structure until suddenly I realized I was at the ceiling, where the ropes extended out horizontally a few feet down to allow the nimble to swing themselves around like there weren't other people traipsing about on the floor to land on top of.
Not that there were any people down there right now.
Nobody was awake at this hour, and if they were, they were at some of the more popular late-night spots, like the club or one of the many stargazing spots.
"Are you in need of assistance?" a purring voice sang out to me, dripping with the octave fluctuations that indicated flirtation.
I glanced over to see the familiar spotted Norratar, Mr. Gotta Catch 'em All, draped across the ropes next to me as if he had just woken up from a nap. He was not there when I got up to the top; I was certain.
He gave me a big, toothy grin and I frowned at him.
"Are you threatening me?" I asked as I hugged the rope to my chest, another one pressing into the back of my knee and the top of my ankle as I wedged myself into the ropes to try to feel safe.
I had come here during the low activity hours, hoping I'd be able to play around on the equipment without anyone seeing me.
His lips snapped closed.
"I thought humans liked seeing teeth," he sang out, in tones of apology.
"I don't need help," I said. "I'm just resting."
"Feel free to cry out for help if you change your mind," he purred out again, his tonal shifts heavy with flirtation again. "I will come to your rescue and carry you to safety."
"I'm fine," I repeated.
He flicked his ears at me, and then he was off, swinging across the ropes only to let go of them at the last second.
I let out a gasp as the arc of his fall took him over to one of the huge rope-covered columns that were scattered around the room.
He landed, all of his claws out as he caught himself on the column.
He let go with one hand and twisted to look back up at me, and gave me another huge, toothy grin.
"Prance on, playboy," I said, knowing he could still hear me at that distance.
His ears twitched, and he winked at me before continuing on his way.
It wasn't that I was immune to the ridiculous number of hot aliens romping around the ship. My heated collision with Zandaor made that explicitly clear. My physical needs hadn't vanished just because I wasn't exercising them.
I just wasn't in the market for a hookup.
I wanted something real, something meaningful and long-lasting, and that meant not throwing myself at every male that winked in my general direction, looking to hump his way through all the options until he found the one that his symbiote awoke for.
I wasn't sure what Zandaor wanted from me, but I wasn't willing to wait to find out.
My Chyrrith lawyer had worked with me to draft up an extensive document.
I made sure that Zandaor would be told everything I thought might cause him to not want to be with me, and I asked that he be questioned as to his intentions toward me.
If he was only interested in casual mating, he would be told that I was off limits to dump his pheromones all over.
I didn't want a taste of heaven if it was only going to be taken away.
The Norratar was back in my line of sight again. He was leaning against the base of one of the rope columns, and he stared up at me. When he caught my eye, he grinned again, all teeth.
I hissed at him.
His grin grew wider, and he took a step toward the base of the netted rope ladder I was on.
Damnit. He definitely was the type who enjoyed the challenge of wooing a borderline hostile female.
It was getting to the point where I would have to file a formal leave-me-alone notice with my Chyrrith lawyer.
The whole point of having representatives was to help iron out miscommunications with firm, clear boundaries.
The door to the gym slid open, and the one male I was hoping and yet also terrified to see walked in.
He was just as handsome as I remembered, but now he was wearing a skin tight suit that looked like it was made out of light leather suede.
It left nothing to the imagination. I could see every line of him, every bulge.
He walked a little ways inside, looking around the room.
But he didn't look up.
After a moment, he turned to leave.
There was a chance he wasn't looking for me. There was a chance that when he told me no, told me to go, it wasn't because he was being honorable; it was because he didn't want me, and was just being betrayed by his body.
I had gone over all the possibilities in my mind, waited anxiously for my legal representative to tell me I had received a 'leave him alone' notice, and that I was no longer allowed to approach him to initiate social contact.
What if the entire thing had been in my head, the product of a desperate, horny woman who deluded herself into thinking she could attract a male who looked fit and in his prime when she was not?
Those racing thoughts were the ones that had driven me to the gym in the first place, to see if I could alleviate my mind's attempts to tear myself down by building myself up physically.
That was how I got stuck up on this ladder, thinking it would be fun, when in reality I climbed too high and now was too scared to start the climb back down.
He was almost to the door.
I knew I should let him go.
I shouldn't embarrass myself any more than I already had. I should just stay silent, stuff my painful optimistic eagerness in a box to make room for the practical things that women my age should think about.
That last thought snapped me out of my mental spiral.
Women my age had the right to act however they wanted.
"Zandaor!" I called out. I gripped the rope tightly as I released one of my hands for the briefest of moments to wave at him.
He looked up, his eyes catching sight of me, and a broad smile broke out on his face. I grabbed the rope again, grasping it for dear life. He strode across the room, heading straight for the base of the rope net ladder, only for gotta catch 'em all to step in his path.
I couldn't hear what they were saying, but from the fact that the Norratar was gesturing at the sparring ring in the center of the room, he was trying to redirect him. I shifted slightly, trying to muster the courage to let go enough to shift my weight in a downward direction, but I couldn't do it.
Down below, the Norratar's gestures were getting more insistent, and his tail was lashing. Zandaor undid the front of his outfit, then suddenly peeled the leather down to his waist, tying the armbands across each other.
The Norratar staggered back, his hands clasping his nose.
Zandaor pushed past him, heading to the base of the rope.
I watched as he grabbed it from the underside.
He was on the opposite side from me, climbing up at the angle where there was no rope underneath him if he lost his grip or slipped.
That didn't slow him down. He scaled the ladder like it was nothing, his scent hitting me like a sledgehammer as he got closer, my body flooding with warmth at the first hint of the minty, delicious smell.
"Hey," I said in a breathy tone, once he was a few feet below me.
Wasn't there anything better I could say?
Like hi, how you doing, any chance you still have a hard-on for me?
Or what's hanging? Or what's a handsome guy like you doing in a place like this?
No, all of those were terrible too. Hey was just fine.
It encompassed all my excitement and eagerness and trepidation all in one word.
He looked up at me with a broad smile.
"You never finished your tour," he said. "Want to show me where my room is?"
"Yes, but there is one problem," I said.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I can't get down," I said. "I'm too scared to let go of the ropes."
"I can help you with that," he said, and then he moved around to the edge of the net ladder, transferring from the underside to the side I was on, moving toward me. When he got to me, he didn't stop next to me as I expected.
He covered me.
His knees went under my thighs, his chest against my back, his hands gripping the rope near mine.
"Now you can't go anywhere unless I let you," he murmured, his voice deep.
"Zandaor!" I gasped as his hips pressed against my ass, pinning me against the net, and all questions about whether he was standing to attention. One of the ropes caught in between my legs, adding to the delicious sensation.
"Yes?" he asked, his tone managing to sound innocent and downright predatory at the same time.
Then he lowered his voice, murmuring in my ear.
"You must be absolutely dripping for me right now.
I'm sorry I left you needy, my Lithoame, but I will not take you right here, where anyone can feast on the sound of your pleasure.
Move with me, and I'll get you there. I'll take care of you the way you need, one touch at a time. "
One of his hands covered mine, and he gently plucked it from the rope, moving it down. He set it down, and I gripped the rope. He repeated the motion with my other hand, and then his arm snaked around my waist, pulling me back against his body, holding me.
"I've got you," he said. "Close your eyes and move with me. We are one."
I closed my eyes.
I felt his knee drift back from my thigh and I slid that foot off the rope, closing the gap until I could feel the pressure of his leg against mine.
I followed it down to a rope below, and then the other leg went, and I moved with him.
Occasionally he let go of my waist so he could reposition his own grip, but any moment I felt unsteady, his hand was there, pressing me back against him, letting me feel the way our bodies lined up together.
My fear fled before his touch, and before I knew it, my feet were on a solid surface, but he was still holding me, his hand on my belly, pressing me back against him. I leaned my head back, my eyes still closed, and I felt his breath, listened to the deep thrum of his heartbeat.
"That was a great Orvanis," he said. "You sought out an edge of your experiences and challenged it."
"But I couldn't climb down on my own," I said.
"Orvanis doesn't mean you conquer the edge, just that you seek it," he murmured, his hand still warm on my belly, grounding me. "No one is alone. All are Oame, and it is Oame who conquers the edge that Orvanis discovers."
He had used a different word that didn't translate when we were climbing down together, and that had floated in my mind.
"What does Lithoame mean?" I asked.
"Lithoame is the niche of being a foundational anchor, a structure for Oame to grow," he said. "It is being two that are one. We become Lithoame through accepting our scent matching."
The heat of his pheromones swirled around me, and I wanted nothing more than to scream out that I accepted him, that I wanted him, that it was time for him to become one with me.
"If I… if we… become Lithoame," I started my question, opening my eyes as I tilted my head back to look up at him. "What do we become when you go home to your people?"
"We would decide where we would stay or where we would go," he said.
"If Earth tightens her grasp upon you, then my niche-finding would begin again, here with you.
If Oame sings to your being, then that is where we would go.
If Exlith-Orvanis is the niche that fits us both, then we will need to get a larger starship. "
"Really?" I said, turning in his arms to put my hands on his chest to gaze up at him. "You would abandon your career to be with me?"
"That word doesn't translate," he said. "Is a career a niche?"
"I mean, you would give up your niche, your home world, for some woman who smells nice?" I asked.
"I give up nothing," he said. "I gain everything. I become a pillar, a bone in the hand of Oame, reaching out to clasp the hand of Earth."
I reached up, stroking the edges of his beautiful, aqua-and-purple, multi-colored, spiky strands of hair that adorned his head.
I lifted up on my toes, and his arm curled around my lower back, lifting me further even as he leaned down, his lips finding mine, the kiss curling its way through my very being as everything melted away but the feeling of his lips brushing mine, following the movements of my lips the way I had followed the movements of his body down the ladder.
"What is that stink?" someone shrieked. "Did someone die in here?"
I jolted backward out of the kiss to see a woman, hair pulled up into two messy buns, near one of the doors leading to the separate treadmill rooms.
"No, it's pheromones!" I called out.
"Those pheromones smell like someone took a fat shit in a corpse!" the woman said, gagging as she covered her mouth. "Jesusfuckingchristmas!"
"Sorry, we'll get out of here, and the air filtration will clear it out in a second," I said. I looked back up at Zandaor. "Want to see my room? It's closer."
I needed him to see it, to understand who I was, to understand what he was getting into. If he was going to back out of this, I needed him to do it now.
"Yes," he said. "Lead, and I will follow."