by Elin Wyn
Vrehx and Karzin sat with almost bored expressions, as if waiting for the bean counters and bureaucrats to hurry up and decide who should get shot.
Dr. Parr was here, as well, lending her expertise to the discussion. A worried frown wrinkled her otherwise attractive face. Given recent events, I couldn’t blame her one bit for feeling upset. Tona and Skit, two of Nyheim’s security personnel, stood a few feet behind her chair.
Thribb and Tyehn sat flanking me, because Thribb was our science guy and I was hoping Tyehn’s own scientific background might offer some unique insight. I guess I also felt that, somehow, the entourage made me seem less unimportant.
Vidia stood up, drained half a glass of what I assumed to be water, and took in the whole room with her gaze.
“Let’s cut to the chase. Things are going to hell in a handbasket—don’t roll your eyes, Rouhr, it’s not the most obscure human phrase—and we need to pull together and fix this mess. First up is the Election. Thoughts?”
Dr. Parr was the first to speak.
“We’ll have to suspend the elections. With all of the chaos, there’s no way that we can possibly ensure they will be both secure and fair.”
Rouhr glared at her, and his mouth opened and closed several times. When he finally spoke up, it was as if he’d barely contained his incredulity.
“You would have us suspend the elections and give even more ammunition to the anti-alien propaganda machine?” he asked. “Are you mad?”
“But Dashiell just straight-up called us traitors,” she said.
Karzin shook his head and eyed Parr as if she’d lost her mind as she continued, “He was ranting and raving like a lunatic. There’s no way such a man is a viable or worthy candidate.”
“You’re not looking at the big picture,” another voice interjected.
We all turned to Phryne as she stood up and put her arms akimbo.
“What General Rouhr is getting at is this; if we kick Dashiell out of the election, then the anti-alienists will have a lightning rod with which to draw others to their cause. As vile as the man is, as much as I do not agree with his views on non-humans, we have to let him run.”
Everyone fell silent at that. Rouhr didn’t gloat that his point had been made, because this wasn’t the type of victory you celebrated. At length, I tapped on the table to get everyone’s attention.
“The election matter is settled, though not to anyone’s liking.” Nods around the table indicated assent. “Moving on to our next order of business. Fen believes that we may be dealing with as yet unseen hostile forces, who are affecting the very minds of not only humans, but the native flora and fauna as well.”
“And she thinks that the rifts are to blame.” We all turned to Dr. Parr. “I’m not Fen, by a long shot, but her research seems solid. We’re working on a countermeasure, but with so little data to go on, I’m afraid we’re moving at a snail’s pace.”
“Great.” Phryne slammed her fist on the table, startling several people. “So that’s two problems we can do exactly jack and rek about.”
I had to smile at the way she casually dropped K’veri dialect into her speech.
“Sk’lar.” I looked up to meet Rouhr’s somber gaze. “I read your after-action report on the engagement with the, shall we call them possessed, tree-like species and the Puppet Master’s tendrils. It concurs with what I saw and I wanted to commend you on a job well done.”
“Thank you, sir.” Now I felt really out of place, like everyone was looking at me. I decided to concentrate on Phryne. There was a light in her lovely eyes, a kind of mischief that said she was enjoying my discomfort to a degree. I also detected that particular glint which indicated she wanted to be intimate again. Soon.
“If the Puppet Master is losing control over his ‘children,’ we should draft plans on what to do if the trees get violent again.”
“Sir.” Everyone faced me once again. “I believe both you and Vidia should be assigned additional security details, for now until the election is over, at least.”
“Agreed.” General Rouhr took in the room and sighed. “I know things look bleak right now, but we’ve survived worse. We’ve beaten off the Xathi. We can take it. Meeting adjourned.”
Everyone filtered out of the chamber, and I wound up riding an elevator with Phryne. She leaned against the opposite wall, crossed her arms, and gave me a meaningful, smoldering look.
As soon as the doors shut, she rushed to me, grabbing me in a fierce embrace. We kissed, hands clutching at each other’s bodies as if we couldn’t be close enough to satisfy our urges. I once heard an old K’ver soldier claim that there was no better aphrodisiac than fear. Maybe he was right, or maybe we were just that smitten with each other.
The taste of Phryne’s mouth drove me wild, and my body responded. A smile spread over her face when she felt my growing erection. She leaped up, wrapping her legs around my hips, and started grinding herself into me while we explored and probed with lips and tongues.
“Ah, I’ll take the next one.”
We turned our heads, gaping in shock at the sight of Dr. Parr and General Rouhr standing in the doorway. I wondered how long they had been standing there. Rouhr had a gentle grin on his face as the doors shut, while Dr. Parr was beaming at us with her gaze.
Phryne and I laughed, and she dropped her feet back to the floor. I grinned down at her.
“Clearly, I need to work off this pent-up energy,” she gasped.
I needed much, much more than that. But working off energy would do. For a start.
“So, to your place, then?”
“No.”
“What?”
“Your place is closer.”
“Very well.” I rubbed my thumb over her freckled cheek and she sighed softly. “I’m afraid my room is not very big.”
“Does it have a bed?”
“Yes.”
“Then it will do, won’t it?”
After an admittedly rushed stroll to my apartment complex, we made it all the way up to my front door before mauling one another. We stumbled inside my flat, and I was barely able to snag the door with my toe and shut it before she threw me onto my mattress.
“Nice place.” She was not even looking at my meager dwelling, which consisted of a ten-foot square kitchen area, a commode, and a shower, all in one room. There’s also an IDM center—Implant Diagnostic and Maintenance—which resembled a large metal chair with an attached monitor.
“Let me show you around.”
I grabbed her and tossed her onto the mattress beneath me. She laughed, caressing my cheek as I smiled down at her. Phryne was gorgeous, fierce, but playful at the same time. Her strange edges seemed to fit well with my own. I began to kiss her on the neck, and she rolled her head backward. Then she spotted the IDM chair for the first time.
“No way.”
She squirmed out from under me, causing me to groan in frustration. I smiled ruefully at her naked body as she sauntered with sinuous grace over to the imposing seat.
“Is this a sex thing? I didn’t know you K’ver were so kinky.”
Laughing, I rose naked from the bed and came over to her side. I sat in the chair, automatically activating its systems. Lines of blue light lit up all over the seat and synched with the pieces of circuitry visible on my skin.
“What in the world?” Phryne gaped as a computer rendered image of my circulatory and endocrine system showed up on the screen. My implants were also visible, with readouts next to each. “Is that what’s inside you?”
“Yes. This chair allows me to monitor and perform simple repairs on my implants and cyberware. All K’ver with more than five implants have one.”
“Hmm.” She tapped the screen. “Looks like a lot of blood is rushing down here for some reason.”
She wriggled her bottom, then pointedly strutted over in front of me. Phryne leapt into my naked lap, kissing my neck and nuzzling against me.
“My body’s tingling.”
“Curious.” I lo
oked past her to see the monitor, where her systems were also on display. “The chair has synched to your system, as well. I always assumed it only worked on K’ver.”
“Do you really want to talk tech right now?” Phryne reached down and grabbed my swollen cock firmly. “Or do you want to fuck?”
I wanted to do much more than that. Phryne’s scent, her taste, her voice, were becoming as much a part of me as my own circuitry.
But my strong, tough lady didn’t want to hear that. Not yet.
So for now, I kissed her by way of an answer. Phryne lifted up on her haunches and guided the head of my cock between her wide open, dripping wet pussy lips. Micron by micron, she forced herself down my wide shaft until she was seated in my lap. We gasped in unison as I became fully sheathed in her. Her pussy muscles tensed up around my cock, squeezing me with surprising strength.
“You like that?” Her voice was husky in my ear.
“Yes...” I groaned, striving to hold back longer. I’d barely been in her a minute.
Phryne swiveled her hips, moving her body like the sea in a storm. I reached up and cupped both of her breasts, kneading her pliant flesh and using my handhold to control her body’s movements to a degree.
She gasped and clasped her hands around my wrists, but didn’t try to change my grip. If anything, she pressed my palms down more firmly onto her soft breasts.
I lowered my head to her neck, tasting and nipping at her skin, feeling her pulse race with every movement as I drove into her.
“Oh god, oh god, your cock feels so good inside me.” Her eyes squeezed shut, and she fell backward, body arching in a lovely way that had the side effect of allowing me to thrust even deeper into her tight heat.
Moving my hand to her hip, I pulled her tighter to me, shifting the control of our movements until I drove into her, even harder and deeper with each pounding thrust, until she shattered in my grip.
Every moan, every expression she made as she fell over the edge of orgasm again and again spurred me on, until, with a roar, I watched our fused bodies lighting up on the monitor as we came in unison.
At last, I pulled her back up into my lap and held her in my arms. We remained that way for a time as our breathing slowed. I remained inside her until our hearts calmed, and we still cuddled in the chair long after the sun had sunk below the horizon.
Phryne
Sk’lar took up much of my headspace as I walked to work.
Too much.
Thinking about him was becoming part of my morning ritual. Sleeping with him was also becoming part of my ritual.
The day the radicals tried to take over the building, I walked into work feeling thrilled about the step forward I had taken with Sk’lar.
We’d reached a new level of intimacy that day. I’d taken it in stride, for someone with intimacy issues.
But when he strode into the lobby after the radicals ran off, I felt something in my chest. My first instinct was to run into his arms. That wasn’t part of our arrangement.
Our arrangement was that we didn’t have an arrangement, right?
No strings.
So why did I feel a pull?
I couldn’t allow myself to get caught up in the feelings trap. The fact that no feelings were involved was why Sk’lar and I worked.
Upon reflection, it wasn’t accurate to say that there were no feelings involved. I liked Sk’lar. He was fun to hang out with, good for a chat, and was able to keep up with me in the bar, in bed, and at work.
A pretty good trifecta. I let him in as a friend and it’d been one of the best decisions I’d made in recent years.
Things weren’t complicated with Sk’lar.
Our agreement to keep feelings out of it was for both our benefits. I couldn’t jeopardize the friendship I’d built with him because I’d caught feelings.
I had a laundry list of reasons why a no-strings situation was the best way to go about this. Sk’lar had surely added his own reasons to that list.
I stopped walking dead in my tracks.
I couldn’t remember any of the reasons Sk’lar gave. Sure, he’d said positive things about our relationship, but never in the context of being friends with benefits.
Oh, my god.
We’d never agreed to be friends with benefits.
I’d just assumed we were.
I looked back on our first conversation when he climbed into my shower. He asked me not to shut him out. What if he meant that in a romantic way? I automatically assumed he meant that in a physical way or a friendship way.
What if, this whole time, Sk’lar was working toward a real relationship with me?
Not once had he pressured me. I’d taken his willingness to allow me to do things my way as a sign of agreement to a no-strings relationship. I never asked him directly.
What the hell was wrong with me?
This was exactly why I didn’t enter into relationships. I made assumptions and I didn’t talk about my feelings.
I needed to ask Vidia about this.
She was good with relationships.
She was good with people.
Oh god. I wasn’t going to talk to my boss about my alien maybe-boyfriend, was I?
We had a meeting to get through first.
Good. That’d stop me from thinking about how I might’ve misunderstood my relationship with Sk’lar from day one.
“Good morning.” Vidia greeted me when I walked into the conference room on the first floor. The fallout from the radial attack had been cleaned up quickly, though the lobby still showed signs of conflict. The stairwell looked like a nightmare. I was glad cleaning wasn’t part of my responsibilities anymore. That was the worst part of training.
“Morning,” I grumbled.
“What happened?” Vidia had a knowing smile on her face.
“Nothing.”
“That’s not true. Your skin is dewy and glowing but your face looks like a thundercloud. Those are conflicting signals.”
“I’m not signaling anything. Who called this meeting? This is rather last minute.” I pushed past the subject of my dewy-yet-stormy face.
“You’re not going to like this,” Vidia winced.
“Tell me.”
“Dashiell Fox.”
“Why are we meeting with your opposition? Your suddenly anti-alien opposition, I might add.”
“He’s suggesting a change in venue for our debate tomorrow.”
“Absolutely not. Why’d you agree to meet for such a ridiculous reason?”
“To gather intel. Maybe he’ll let slip his reasoning for flipping his campaign upside down and backward while we talk.”
“That seems foolishly optimistic.”
“Maybe. But I’m very good at reading people.”
“Let me call in some extra security. I don’t trust inviting an anti-alien champion into our midst.”
“General Rouhr already knows. All non-human personnel are on the second floor working or monitoring from the control room. If Fox so much as looks at me funny, Rouhr’s ready to take him down a notch.”
“Glad to know you’ve given this some thought,” I conceded.
I pushed my earpiece into place and synced up my device with the building’s radio network.
“When’s Fox meant to arrive?”
“He’s in the lobby now,” General Rouhr answered me. “Don’t let him pull anything with Vidia.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you don’t think she can handle herself,” I jested.
“What?” Vidia perked up.
“Don’t get me in trouble,” General Rouhr chuckled.
The door to the conference room pushed open. An attendant in an all-black suit and black glasses stepped inside. Dashiell Fox followed.
“Dashiell.” Vidia stood, beaming, and went to great her competitor. “So good to see you.”
“Good to see you, too, dear.” Vidia and Fox kissed each other’s cheeks twice before Vidia offered him a seat. I gave Vidia a questioning look, to
which she simply smiled. The exchange must’ve been part of the political tango.
“What can I do for you?” Vidia asked.
“I wanted to request that we move tomorrow’s debate to a different location.”
“Why?” I asked flatly.
“It’s scheduled as an indoor event, which greatly limits how many can attend,” Fox replied.
“What do you propose instead?” Vidia asked.
“I propose moving the final debate to the East Square, right next to those lovely complexes you’ve worked so hard to renovate.” Fox’s smile was too forced. I watched his eyes for any sign of that mad gleam I’d seen on the panel at the bar, but they were clear.
“Do you have a map of said square?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Fox’s frown was filled with false apologies. He turned to Vidia. “I assumed you and your staff would have knowledge of the square since your passion projects are located so nearby.”
“I assure you, I’m quite familiar with the square,” Vidia said.
“Then let’s discuss moving the debate,” Fox pressed.
As they talked about potential benefits, I pulled out my datapad and searched through the city plans. I pulled up a map of the square and surrounding buildings. No wonder Fox wanted to move the debate there. It was completely unprotected.
There were far too many entry points for my teams to cover, as well as a number of vantage points where a sniper could have a clear shot at any point in the square.
I gave Vidia a weighted look.
“I’m open to your ideas, Dashiell. Would you allow me to talk it over with my team privately?” she asked.
“Of course, my dear.” Dashiell smiled but I saw the anger in his eyes. He knew he couldn’t deny her request without looking suspicious. I threw him my own sugary-sweet smile as I led Vidia out of the room. We took the elevator to the second floor to ensure we were out of earshot.
“What did you find out?”
“He wants to lure you into a trap in the square,” I replied.
“Not surprising. He’s being far too nice.”
“He’s a terrible actor.”
