by Alana Khan
After a whirlwind trip through the mercantile, which sells everything from food to clothes to livestock feed, we’re ready for the return trip. I’m not surprised when T slides into the passenger side and motions me into the driver’s seat.
My hands on the wheel, I take a moment to mentally review all the instructions, then take off without needing a moment of refresher from T. This time, I drag my eyes from the controls long enough to glimpse the terrain.
“I’m surprised you haven’t been here in years. It’s so beautiful.”
“I should come more often.”
My second landing is smooth as silk, and the groceries are put away within minutes.
“Ready to hike to the waterfall?”
I glance up to see T has added something to his wardrobe—a gun.
“Lions and tigers and bears?” I ask, trying to keep a lighthearted facade while my insides twist into a knot.
“Those are scary animals on your Earth? We have some on Kallion, too. The shopkeeper told me there’s a big feline near the waterfall. No reason to be foolish. This is simply for safety.”
After tying one of his mom’s flannel shirts around my waist, we take off. The drams are plentiful and playful as they scurry about. I notice the leaves are beginning to turn from green to blazing scarlet; the breeze carries a slight chill.
T clasps my hand in his as we walk through trees and open spaces on our hike. The lush scenery grabs my attention, the smells remind me of happy times in my childhood I’d completely forgotten, but my attention keeps darting to the large, handsome male next to me.
“Hear it?” he asks.
The sound of distant thunder fills my ears. It never changes. There’s no building and ebbing, just the steady pounding. “The waterfall? I pictured something one story high, a little trickle. This must be huge.”
“Kallion is full of them. On other planets, waterfalls usually start on a peak of some sort. On Kallion the falls begin near ground level, then fall into what we call water fissures.”
Our steps quicken and soon we’re jogging to get there. A waterfall that doesn’t fall? Where does the sound come from?
We’re hurrying up an incline, the muscles in my legs burn in a good way, reminding me I’m alive. I can smell the humidity. In fact, when I open my mouth I can taste it. Then we get to a huge chasm in the earth where water gushes down maybe fifteen or twenty stories.
“Kind of scary, looking down there,” I say as I step back. From a block away I saw grassy flatlands, and a small, rocky hillock covered with rushing water. Now, looking over this huge precipice with rushing water, I wonder what geologic cataclysm created it.
“See the rainbows?” T points.
There are dozens, maybe hundreds of rainbows arcing inside the moving water as well as in the middle of the steep hole.
“Beautiful.”
T lays out the red plaid blanket he brought and we lounge. I lie back and watch the clouds, enjoying the steady rumble of the falls.
“A castle.” Thantose points to a cloud formation.
We watch for a while and then I see a samurai, but don’t know how to describe it. A moment later it turns into a gladiator, that he understands.
I’ve never been with a safe male before, I’ve never sat in companionable silence. These experiences are new. Sitting holding a hand and laughing? Five months ago I couldn’t have imagined this.
Something unfolds in my belly. I never knew it was there, but now I realize it’s been a constant, unwelcome companion. Fear. I’ve lived with a coiled snake of fear inside me. It was perpetually on guard. You can let go now, I tell it. Take a nap, take a vacation, slither away. Leave me alone. Let me learn to accept the calm.
I thank the snake. For a decade it rattled it’s warning when I needed to be on guard. It saved me many times, but I don’t need it now. I feel it disappear the same moment my breathing deepens. I take my first full breath in a decade.
“I brought something for us to do.” Thantose sits and grabs his little backpack. After offering me water, he says, “Lie back and close your eyes.”
In response, my eyes flare wider.
“Right. You’re not long on trust, but I’ve never hurt you, Brin. I’m not going to start today. Just say stop and I will.”
Damn, the snake took up residence in my belly again. I’m on high alert, but I want this. A huge part of me wants to participate in whatever’s going to happen. I lie back, trying to contain my panic.
“I’m going to touch you,” he says, then grabs my hand in both of his as he sits cross-legged at my hip. “Breathe.” I do. “Good.”
His long, strong fingers slide from my wrist to my fingernails. “See B? Nothing scary. Tell me to stop.”
“What?”
“Tell me to stop.”
“Stop?”
His hands promptly stop and lodge in his lap. “See? May I touch you again?” He strokes my hand, urges me to tell him to stop, and he does—immediately. “Think you could close your eyes?”
I trust Thantose, I tell myself, and allow my eyelids to shutter closed.
When I hear him rummage in his pack, my snake rattles quietly. Nothing to get alarmed about I tell him, even as my body shifts from relaxed to guarded.
“Lotion,” he announces, then squirts some unto my upturned palm. He applies the lotion with slow, light strokes as if we have all the time in the world. “I want to touch all of you someday,” his voice is so deep and husky it rumbles through my skin. “But for today, I want you to learn to trust me, I want you to take pleasure from me, and I want us to communicate. Shall we begin?”
Where is snarky Thantose of quirking lips and sardonic words? Even though I like that side of T, I want to get to know this strong male who’s courting me as if I’m the most precious thing on the planet.
I nod.
“Communication, Brin. Tell me.”
“Yes, let’s begin. I’ll say ‘stop’ if I want.”
“Perfect.”
I expect him to move on to other parts of my body, figuring he’ll be removing my t-shirt within a minute, but he hasn’t touched higher than my wrist.
“Tell me the perfect pressure.” The pad of his thumb is working the meat of mine where thumb meets wrist.
“It’s fine.”
“Communication, Brin.” He presses harder in increments, then softer, then harder again. “Don’t tell me fine, tell me when it’s the best.”
“There,” I say, wanting the focus off me.
“Perfect, Brin. Tell me when it’s perfect. Right now tell me if you want it harder or softer.”
A dam inside me breaks. I haven’t asked for what I want in a decade, and if I had I would have been punished for it. For anyone else, it would be a piece of cake to say the words, “harder,” or “softer.” For me? I’m more terrified than if I was about to pull a bank heist. My fear of retribution makes sweat bloom on my upper lip. My hands, a moment ago so relaxed, have tightened into claws.
But I’m with T, I tell myself. He wants to know. He’ll keep me safe.
I take a deep breath. “A little harder at that spot. Yeah, right there . . . but now it’s too hard.”
I think this exercise goes on for half an hour and he’s only massaged my two hands—nothing more.
“Looks like I better get you home before you fall asleep and need to be carried . . . although I’d be happy to do that if you just say the word.”
I open my eyes and see my pale hand grasped between his two black and magenta ones. He pulls away to stow the lotion, but I snatch his hands back in both of mine. “Look,” I smile down at our hands. I love the contrast.
“Somehow they go together,” he husks.
I nod. I was just thinking that.
Chapter Seven
Thantose
“How can you be better at gin than me?” she groans. “I only taught you a few days ago.”
“Don’t blame me. My mind is wired to do three things well, stealing and gambling are t
wo of them.”
She falls silent. I shouldn’t have said that. We both know what the third thing is, and now it’s in the room with us, an uninvited interloper.
“Now what? It’s too early for bed, we’ve agreed on no vids while we’re in this secluded cabin, and I refuse to get slaughtered in one more game of gin,” she says.
“How about another massage?”
“Great. I want to do you,” her voice is firm.
“That’s not the way it works.”
“You said it was all about communication. That goes two ways.”
“I’ve never had trouble expressing my preferences . . . or desires.” Shut up, drackhole, I scold myself. I don’t want to scare her off, I’ve been trying so hard to be gentle.
“Lie on the couch,” she demands. “Where’s the lotion?”
It’s calm, being together like this. I’ve never had a relationship since Petrose died in that accident long ago. We were just kids in secondary school. Since then, I’ve enjoyed women as bed partners and little more. This type of interaction, the talking, hiking, looking at clouds, cooking together, and gin rummy? I’ve never done it.
The hand massage feels fantastic. It’s the perfect way for us to touch without starting something she’s not ready to finish.
Her hands are warm and gentle. I watch her face for a while; it’s addictive. She’s so serious, as if she wants an ‘A’ on this assignment. Then I close my eyes and allow myself to just enjoy. This seems to give her permission to take control.
The feeling is delicious. Is this the pleasure I gave her earlier? I’ve never enjoyed touch in quite this way before, and I’ve enjoyed touch with a lot of females of a lot of species on a lot of planets.
There’s something so . . . elemental about giving up all power, all need to provide pleasure to the other person. Just receiving for a moment. And I have to give myself credit, it was the perfect, safe way to start things with B. She’ll learn what she wants, which I doubt she knows. And she’ll be able to tell me, which I’ll use to both our advantage at some moment in the future.
“There’s something I’ve wondered for months . . .” She’s getting ready to ask me an important question, I can tell. I can only imagine how much nerve it takes for her to do this. I caution myself not to mock her, not to be flippant—I’ve been told it’s not one of my most endearing qualities.
“What?” my voice is low and encouraging.
“You grew up with everything you needed. Your family had lots of money. Your parents obviously adored you, at least that’s what it seems like even though your mother set you up to wiggle that adorable tush naked in front of the Meris Society.
“So how does someone like you wind up as a pirate?”
I don’t have a quick answer for her. “I never gave it much thought. Do I need a reason?”
“It’s not like your grandahma really was a pirate. You don’t know how you decided on this line of work?”
“Keep rubbing my hands and let me think.” A moment later, I have an answer. “Maybe it was because of my cousin, Devolose. He was abducted and taken off-planet at age eighteen. I never knew him, but I grew up hearing about him my entire life. I assumed he was dead. Because of what happened to him, I knew life was short and precious and that playing by the rules got you nowhere.
“Maybe becoming a pirate, grabbing life by the balls, helped me feel alive for as long—or as short—as I lived.”
“Mmm, that makes sense,” her voice sounds so tentative my eyes pop open so I can read her expression.
“You don’t sound convinced, Brin.”
“I am convinced, I just wonder . . .”
She’ll never ask the rest of her question unless I give her permission. “Wonder what, B?”
“Maybe now that you’ve grabbed life by the balls you could put your skills to other uses. You saved Devolose’s life and sanity. You rescued Tawny, Carrie, Lexa, and me. Now that you’re going to pay off your ship, maybe some of your time or money could do other people some good.”
I grab her hand and plant a soft kiss on her palm, then let her keep rubbing my hands. “I know you’re sweet, Brin, and I know you’re kind, and now you’re proving just how smart and intuitive you are. I like your idea. A lot.”
When she’s done with me I glance at the clock, realizing it’s still too early for bed. “Okay, we’ll switch for a moment and then bed. Let’s see . . .” I look her up and down. “Arms?” She smiles. “Head massage?” Her eyes light up. “Feet?” It’s like the air is sucked out of the room. Those beautiful green eyes widen in terror, and she crab-walks backward until her back hits the rocker.
“What did I say?” I stepped on a mine and I didn’t even know I was in a minefield.
She scoots her feet next to her ass, hugs her legs close, and tucks her head behind her knees.
My first impulse is to pick her up and rock her to calm the little girl hiding inside her head, but I know that would make things worse. I hunch down and try to blend into the couch.
“I’m right here, Brin. Talk to me,” my voice is barely a whisper.
She’s panting in fast, tight huffs, pushing against the rocker so hard it scoots along the floor until it hits the wall.
“It’s T, Brin. We’re on Kallion. We hiked to the waterfall and played gin and cooked dinner together today. I don’t hurt you, B. I never have and I never will. I’ve never touched you in anger and I’ve never lied. I’m not lying now when I tell you you’re safe with me. Wouldn’t it feel better if you were in my arms?”
Her breathing slows and her head untucks a tiny fraction. She lifts a little higher and peeps at me from under her bright, messy hair, then ducks down again. “Okay,” she whispers into her knees.
I don’t stand, knowing it would terrify her. After slipping from the couch onto the floor, I scoot toward her. A moment later, my back is to the rocker, and she’s in my arms. Her bottom is sideways on my lap, her head on my chest.
I kiss her head and stroke her back while I croon little meaningless sounds meant to soothe her. Long minimas later, she takes several deep breaths. Her first word is, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry for being you.”
“I’m such a baby.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.”
We sit in silence. Ten thousand questions whirl through my head. I ask none of them. I told her I’d never ask. I meant it.
“I’m full of shame, like it’s my fault,” her voice is hushed. “I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do. Abuse,” she laughs ruefully, “the gift that keeps on giving.”
I keep petting her hair. She’ll tell me or she won’t. It’s her story, I don’t want to rush it.
“Fuck me, T.” She straddles me and rides my cock before I comprehend her words. Pulling her shirt over her head, she thrusts a nipple at my mouth as she tugs at my waistband. I grab her wrists and place them behind my neck, pulling her naked chest against mine.
“This isn’t what you want, Brin. Stop.” She looks at me as if she just awoke from a dream.
“I’m Thantose, nobody else. We’re building something important here. Let’s not use sex to placate each other or change the subject or apologize. Let’s have sex when we want to feel connected.”
She shifts her weight, ready to bolt, but I grasp her wrists tighter, keeping her planted.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed around me. I see you, Brin. I know who you are. You’re just coming out of your shell, please don’t go back in.”
“How can you like what you see?” her voice is a terrified whisper.
“I like everything I see. You’re who you are because of your past. As dracked up as it was, it made you you.”
“I’m so stupid. I just wrecked everything,” her voice is vehement, full of self-loathing.
“You’re not stupid and you didn’t wreck anything.” But Gods, her perfect breasts are mere inces from my mouth and my tongue is desperate to taste them. “Will you put your shirt back on befo
re you drive me insane, though?”
Her cheeks change from rose to scarlet, ashamed. She tugs her t-shirt back over her head so fast it’s on backward. She tries to scramble off my lap, but I won’t let her go. I pull her face to my pec so she can hide from my gaze.
“We already went through this in the hover-limo. You’d think I would learn,” she sounds angry at herself.
“Here we are on Kallion with no one to bother us. We’ll try new things. We’ll see what works. We just discovered that when something happened, you wanted to fix it by having sex. I told you I wouldn’t ask you questions, but here’s one now.
