by Suz deMello
Shayna edged closer to the goodies, moving carefully due to the soreness between her legs. It was a good soreness, though. She liked being reminded of Gideon’s lovemaking with every move she made. But the ache in her pussy didn’t mask her hunger. She hadn’t eaten since before she’d boarded the ziptrain to Farside. Everything on the table looked familiar, except some slabs of what appeared to be raw fish. But that couldn’t be. No Jewish dish consisted of raw fish. Smoked, definitely, but not raw. And this seemed to be slabs of raw fish placed upon chunks of sticky rice, bound together with—what? She sniffed. Seaweed?
“Try my sushi.” Taking a plate from a stack at the end of the table, Kiramoto loaded it with gefilte fish, latkes…and also some of the odd food he called sushi.
She didn’t want to upset him, because he seemed so nice. And, she thought, why not? She took a bite, then another, chewing the sweet, tender fish slowly and thoughtfully.
“It’s good.” Suddenly, something hotter than horseradish hit her tongue. She swallowed fast and hard. About to cough, she didn’t want to spew half-eaten raw fish around the room. Eyes tearing, she turned an accusing gaze on Kiramoto.
Laughing so hard she thought he’d split his Slicksuit, Gideon appeared, a glass of water in hand. “A new experience for sheltered Shayna?” Handing the water to her, he winked at Kiramoto. “Didn’t tell her about wasabi, did you, Tad?”
Kiramoto grinned at her, apparently unrepentant. “Commander.” He nodded at Gideon, then tactfully slipped away.
Commander? She drank, then set down the glass on the nearest table. “People aren’t telling me about a lot of things, are they?” she murmured to Gideon. “No wonder your quarters are so deluxe, Commander.”
He gave her a cocky grin. “That would have been boasting. I am what I am, Shayna, and I won’t apologize for my career.” He took a piece of sushi from her plate. Lifting the fish off the rice, he showed her a greenish paste. “Wasabi mustard. Like horseradish, only more so.”
“Made from a hydroponically grown vegetable?” Discovery of water deposits beneath the lunar poles had made civilization independent of Earth feasible, as had the gases found in pockets under lunar seas. Life here was precarious, but possible.
“Of course, just like the fish and the rice. Better, it’s Kosher. What do you think?” He held the sushi to her lips.
“I like it.” She took a bite, chewed and swallowed.
He ate the other half of the sushi. She raised her brows at the intimacy. But why not? Rivka’s recommendation, along with Shayna’s advancing age, made marriage a foregone conclusion. Then there was that scene in his quarters. She’d had no idea she’d succumb to Gideon so quickly, but she’d dreamed of him for so long that lovemaking seemed so natural, so right. She wouldn’t have done that with any man unless she intended to wed…but she wasn’t sure she wanted to marry him, was she?
She retained her concerns about Gideon’s work. She liked Farside, found it interesting. But did she want to live here, away from her own people? And what of the future? The Lunar Officers Corps, charged with the protection of the moon’s colonies, didn’t have any retirees. Everyone seemed to die in action or, worse, be lost.
Shayna sighed. Her father had been killed, as had many on Luna. No assurance of a long future existed for any moon child.
Her thoughts scattered as Gideon kissed her, in full view of everyone in the crowded room. As much a declaration of intention as his proposal, or their lovemaking.
She kissed back. “You’re the commander of Farside, so everyone’s probably watching us.” Gideon a commander, the commander of Farside. If she cared about social status, she’d be proud. Instead, she worried.
“Yes, I am, and yes, they are.” That cocky grin again. “Get used to it.”
Their conversation was interrupted when a gaggle of kids poured into the room. “Cheder’s out,” Gideon murmured into her ear, wanting to lick the delicate whorls. He tried to control his burgeoning arousal. Fantastic that she turned him on so much…he’d just had her, and now he wanted her again.
She nodded, a maternal smile covering her face. “They’re only a little older than my kids.”
“You teach school?”
“Yes, and sometimes work in the nursery. Wherever I’m needed.”
“You like children, then. Good.” Gideon imagined a baby, his son, suckling one of her magnificent breasts. His Slicksuit drew so tight at his crotch that if Shayna had cared to look, she could probably guess the angle the moil had held the blade at his ritual circumcision. He slipped behind her, hoping no one would notice.
She turned, her maternal smile replaced by a scowl. “Don’t push me, Gideon.”
His Slicksuit loosened. Damn. Shayna had grown into a tough cookie, feminine instincts notwithstanding. It would take more than great sex to manipulate Shayna. Good. He didn’t like weak women. He needed a strong wife.
“Now, kinder!” One of the teachers accompanying the children tapped a spoon on a glass, drawing everyone’s attention away from dreidel games, latkes and flirtation. “Before we light the candles, who wants to tell the story of Chanukah?”
Screeches arose. “I do! I do!” A field of waving hands sprang from the group of kids.
Gideon smiled. This was why his family had moved to Luna, so they could worship and learn in peace.
One boy, no more than eight, said breathlessly, “The bad Greeks and Syrians didn’t want us to pray to God anymore an’ they made us eat pig an’ everything!”
“And they killed bunches of us!” Another kid chimed in.
Gideon saw Tad Kiramoto grin at the children’s antics. This was why Gideon had joined the Officers Corps. He enjoyed working with people who were different, watching cultures collide, merge, then create something new and greater. He’d never live any place as boring and stultified as New Brooklyn. How could someone as intelligent as Shayna Goldstein stand it?
The teacher said, “That’s very good, Nelson. Who can tell us about the miracle of Chanukah?”
“I can!” a little girl screamed. “The oil lamp in the temple lasted eight days instead of only two.”
“Thank you, Dvora. Next time, please raise your hand. Rachelle, what’s the true message of Chanukah?” The teacher pointed at a shy redhead with hazel eyes, much like Shayna at age thirteen.
The girl hesitated, tugging at a fat curl. “The message is tolerance.” She had an unusual, deep voice.
“Tolerance?” Shayna asked, sounding surprised. “I always thought the message of Chanukah was God’s ability to perform miracles.”
“Not to me,” Rachelle said. “The Greeks weren’t wrong because they worshipped Zeus, but because they didn’t allow us to pray to the Almighty, blessed be He.”
Shayna blinked, her face taking on a thoughtful expression. Gideon wanted to drive the point home, but lost his chance when candles were lit by the children, prayers intoned and hymns sung. When the hubbub had calmed, he caught her sneaking toward the door.
He grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Not yet. We’re not done.”
She blinked again. “We aren’t? Haven’t we done enough?” She shot him a flirtatious grin.
He tugged her out of the party room into a deserted corridor. “We’ll never do that enough, but more importantly, you haven’t given me an answer.”
She kissed him, using a lot of tongue and rubbed her mound against his burgeoning erection. “Haven’t I?”
“You had that condition. Don’t you understand? I like it here.”
She drew in a deep breath. “I like it too. I think. It’s different and scary, but it’s exciting and fun, isn’t it?”
“Exactly! Oh, Shayna, I’ll make you so happy!” He threw his arms around her and started to dance with her up and down the tube.
“Rivka told me I had to leave my cocoon and commit to something beyond myself. This is what she meant, wasn’t it?”
“You’re a smart girl, Sha
yna Goldstein.”
She grinned, sliding her arms around his neck. “And there’s this, too, isn’t there? Every day and every night.”
“Every day and every night.” He bent his head to kiss her.
About the Author
An award-winning, best-selling traditional romance novelist, Suz deMello uses a pseudonym to protect her privacy. But if you’re a romance fan, you’ve probably read her books or have heard of her. She’s known for layered, compelling novels charged with humor as well as emotion.
Of her journey to the steamier side of writing, Suz says, “I love writing traditional romances, but after several years in the same mode, I felt that I really needed to cut loose as a creative artist and write hot, sexy books that reflect the wilder side of being human.”
Suz’s books are fast-paced with seductive situations, complicated characters and a whole lot of kink!
Suz welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
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