The Pearl: Defiance (Galactic Jewels Book 2)

by Jen Greyson

  At the memories, my hands retreated to the base of my throat. “I thought this was Earth’s ocean?” He’d offered me a peculiar mix of galaxies today, not all Samarian, not all Milky Way.

  “It’s a little bit of everything.” He caught my gaze and held it. My pulse fluttered in my throat and I grasped for banter to throw back at him but the rising moonlight caught the waves of his hair and put a sparkle in his eyes, mesmerizing me. My breath caught and a tightness constricted my chest, though not an ache like I usually felt after the presentations, this was a fullness that made me worry that my heart was too large for my ribcage. The corner of his lips turned up in a slow smile. “I wanted this to be the best presentation you’d ever had.”

  I swallowed and searched for his teasing grin, but he looked serious and intent. After a heated exchange, he dragged his gaze down my face and exposed skin, skimming over the white bikini now that I’d discarded the coverup and finally to his own hands. He stroked the Curlyweb’s spine, and it flattened instantly. Clearly he had a touch with them and I wondered how he knew how to make them react like that. He gently turned it over, exposing its underside, his fingers still stroking the sides, easing the barbed tentacles open until it revealed a shimmering translucent pearl in the center.

  “Oh!” I gasped at this hidden treasure. “I never knew.”

  He withdrew the pearl and stroked the Curlyweb closed, then lowered it back into the water and rinsed his palm, straightening with the jewel still trapped between his fingers.

  His free hand eased toward mine and I watched with stunned curiosity, jerking slightly at the snap of electricity when he curled his warm fingers beneath mine. He tugged it away from my throat and set the pearl in my palm, closing my fingers around it. “A pearl for the pearl.”

  My gaze skipped over his features, the too square jaw, the too wide jaw, the too pale blue of his eyes, the just right warmth of his fingers trapping mine over the too perfect roundness of the pearl in my hand.

  “I always wondered why they called this job the pearl?”

  “You don’t know?”

  I shook my head, trying to remember if I’d ever asked, but the pearl had been as known as the name of the sun and I’d never questioned. “I—they were on Earth, I just figured…” I looked to where he’d set the Curlyweb free. Because I’d associated a pearl as a jewel, it had made sense and I’d never bothered myself with details beyond what they’d taught me. Nor why other galaxies hadn’t referred to the position by another name or requested a different title. “It wasn’t part of my training.”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it again, flexing the muscle in his jaw, probably swallowing the retort that not all learning came from books, but he let it lie.

  Giving me a slight smile, he lifted the pearl up to glint in the silvery moonlight, casting a new shimmering pile of diamonds across the water. “Every planet has an oyster of one type or another. Pearl is the only word that doesn’t require a translation. We all understand the truth of what a pearl is.”

  I stared at him, stunned again by both his actions and words. “What is it to you?”

  “The most precious,” he whispered. “Unique.” He set the pearl in my palm. “Something to be treasured.” He closed my fingers around the pearl again, trapping it. His gaze searched mine and warmth rose to my cheeks. “What is it to you?”

  There was more to the question than what it seemed. I’d watched him enough since our initial meeting to gauge when his playful side hid insecurities and when he asked me questions, they weren’t to discern the answer to the question, but a thousand reasons behind it. He was like a singular databank, sifting through one thing to see what lay beyond to answer a slew of others.

  This instance was no different; he wasn’t asking me about the jewel in my palm, he was asking why I’d done this, given up being human and my simple life for a life of leadership and commitment. The sim retreated, dulling its details until it retreated completely into the background. The moon wasn’t quite as big, the ocean not quite as cold, becoming almost body temperature so I could no longer tell where my legs met the water, the salty air filtered until I couldn’t taste it separate from my own breath. For a moment we were the last two beings of a species that had been going extinct since it’s creation, doomed to fail with no hope of surviving. One I’d given up on before my tenth birthday.

  The pressure of the pebbled jewel heated in my palm, his hand warm around mine. I turned our hands over and moved the pearl between my index finger and thumb, lifting it into his line of sight to break the tension of his look and forcing his hand to fall away. When I answered, my voice was soft and quiet. “To me, the pearl is the center of all things; not the center of attention, but rather as the nucleus of an entity. A culmination of the entire universe to one central point of focus. Without the pearl, we look outward to our own needs instead of what’s best for all of us as a whole.”

  We stood staring at each other for so long I felt like the sim had paused, freezing us in one spot, but the waves still lapped against our legs, the sand still sifted through my toes, his eyelashes still swept down to brush his cheeks with every close of his eyes.

  I’d never felt so conflicted in my entire life.

  He nodded and took a step back, breaking the trance around us and the sim surged back into its former glory, overloading my senses with the smells and sounds of the ocean.

  I handed the pearl back and he shook his head, then turned and walked away.

  CHAPTER 8

  I WATCHED HIM go, biting the urge to call him back. He bent over and retrieved my sopping cover-up from the edge of the water and waited for me to join him on the beach. By the time I got there, the coverup was dry—thanks to the sim—and he offered it in an outstretched arm, looking everywhere but me.

  It wasn’t my fault we were incompatible in everything from our views on the pearl to who knew how many other things. I wished he’d never asked me and that we could rewind to the playful moments before. I’d been having fun and wanted lighter topics again. Normally, I pressed for serious conversations dealing with pivotal topics since I already knew where the representative stood thanks to the databases.

  I knew next to nothing about this man standing before me, this hu-man. I slipped the coverup over my head, taking my time as the material slid over my face and concealed my thoughts that were probably showing. I swallowed and drew a breath as my head poked out, then spent far too much time situating the rest of the outfit before looking up at him.

  He was staring out across the ocean, watching everything and nothing. Even in this wane light I could make out the moment his pupils dilated as he noticed my movements. Some of my favorite pearl training had been the lessons about reading the signals from a potential mate. For all that Dirk might be frustrated with me right now, he was also very sexually aware.

  I swallowed and clasped my hands together. “Tell me where you got the Zyldish whisky,” I asked, cursing the strain in my voice. Maybe my training hadn’t prepared me for Dirk.

  After only a brief pause, he smiled and shifted, crooking his arm and drawing my hand up into his elbow. I’d been on hundreds of dates—298 as the pearl—and no one had done that, let alone as many times as he’d captured my hand. We’d left physicality to holding hands during the greeting and only partially because hands and tentacles didn’t quite fit together. While there was a sensuality to being the pearl and I’d learned pleasure in 299 different ways, there hadn’t been anything about how to please a human. The orgasms that had claimed me had been Samarian orgasms. I’d never needed to wonder how a human mated and gave pleasure. The thought tickled an unexplored part of my brain.

  There was an intimacy to the way our bodies entwined that tugged at sensual places I rarely encountered this early during the presentation. Warmth flooded my body and excitement charged me from the tips of my ears to the center of my core. I tugged my lower lip into my mouth and suckled it, caught off guard by the intensity of the desire and confused at w
hether I should snuff it or let it flow as freely as I’d been taught.

  “Tell my why you wouldn’t drink it, first,” he countered softly, trapping my hand beneath his and swishing his thumb lightly across the top.

  There would be no holding my desire at bay. I closed my eyes and inhaled, drawing his spicy scent deep into my lungs, letting it mingle with the salt air and my own perfume. I opened my eyes and smiled, pleased at how his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared in instantaneous reaction to what he saw in the depth of my gaze.

  Nothing was forbidden to me during presentations. Dirk could have kissed me, could have stripped me naked and pleasured me on the beach without repercussion to either of us. But only if that had been written into his presentation beforehand. Presentations were the only part of being a pearl I had no control over; from they moment they started, I was bound to the time and open to whatever happened. I could think of only one time when a presentation had included sex and the experience had been so beautifully crafted that no one had dared try again, willing to let that singular attempt stand as the most spectacular three day event in the history of the pearl—possibly the history of all creation.

  He lifted his hand to my temple, allowing a rush of cool air to kiss my warm skin in its absence. His fingers grazed the jewels and feathered lightly against my hair, intricately wound around my head. While his gaze roamed my face, I studied his, the imperfect arch of his left eyebrow, the puckered skin at the curve of his jaw, like he’d been injured and it had left a star-shaped scar, the constellations of freckles beneath the corners of his blue eyes, the shadow of beard beneath the skin of his jaw. I wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers along that stretch of stubble at the tip of his chin. Would it feel rough like Francine’s skin, or soft and ticklish? I’d never encountered a bearded representative before. Humans were hairy beasts—another oddity we could claim of all the evolved species.

  “I’ve never seen anyone quite like you,” he whispered and lowered his hand to rest atop mine again.

  I held my tongue, wary of revealing my identical thoughts. We weren’t completely the same and I let the thought come unabashed; they’d long ago waxed away my body hair, save my thick mane, which made me smile. “We’re two of a kind, I guess.”

  He shook his head slowly then looked away and started walking down the beach again. “You’re nothing like me.” The soft breeze carried his words away but not before I heard them.

  “Zyldish whisky is my favorite,” I said quickly, needing to get us back into the presentation.

  He cleared his throat and cast a sideways glance, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Oh yeah?” he teased. “Tasted enough to have a favorite?”

  “Why do you think I haven’t?”

  He shrugged. “Seems a little out of character for a girl destined to be a future leader.”

  “Leaders drink.” Our banter pleased me.

  “Zyldish whisky isn’t drinking.”

  The comment made me pause and I rolled the puzzling comment around, trying to figure it out before I responded. Our champagne blitzbombs were certainly drinking, a way to celebrate the silliness and fun of an evening out with friends. I’d never suggested to Francine that we trade Zyld for the champagne—not even before we’d discovered the blitzbombs and had tested dozens and dozens of cocktails. Zeld—like Scotch—was an experience of its own, a savory delight.

  “Then why carry a flask of it around with you?”

  “What makes you think I didn’t find it in that cabinet?”

  I lifted an eyebrow.

  He laughed. “All right, all right. Don’t get your panties all up in a twist.” He patted my hand and I blinked, thinking through the statement. I didn’t have panties on but figured pointing that out might derail us again. I wanted to talk about whisky. “Why is it your favorite?”

  “Probably for the same reason you carry it.” I wanted him to tell me his perspective before I revealed mine.

  “To offer it to pretty girls?” He turned, feigning shock and making me laugh.

  “You’re impossible. I’m trying to have a serious conversation.” The smile teased the corners of my lips and I liked the dimple in the center of his cheek when he grinned like that.

  “Ha! Whisky is far from serious.”

  My smile faded at his quick dismissal. Every topic was serious, or could be, if you cared about who you were in discussion with. “You’d rather discuss trade routes, then? Or Vendin agriculture? Fine.” I’d been foolish to think he and I had enough in common that we could converse like the Hemperklu. His attempts to dodge the conversation hurt and I wasn’t sure what to do about that.

  More troubling was my admission that I cared what he thought, cared enough to listen.

  “Lility.” His soft voice curled around me and I stepped away, drawing my hand from his arm. He conflicted me. I didn’t want to be enjoying this so much. I’d made my decision to mate the Hemperklu and there was no future for me and a Samarian, a detail I’d resigned myself to long before this presentation. There was certainly no future with a human. What could we possibly accomplish together? Nothing. My choice of mate for the union was important.

  So why was he trying so hard to make me enjoy myself?

  “I think I need some air.” I shook my head. “I mean, can you pause the sim so I can go for a walk? Alone?”

  “This sim is over anyway.” It dissolved, leaving us standing in the gray room, he a few feet away, not looking at me. I tried to gauge his attitude by the tone of his voice, but I wasn’t sure if I’d upset him by asking to take a break. My request was completely against protocol. According to the regulations, the presentation was completely under Dirk’s direction and I had no choice but to endure his selections, but once again, he’d caught me off guard, stripping me of my training in an instant, and making me wonder at things I had no business pondering.

  I couldn’t choose him. Which meant I needed to step away and get myself together so I could finish the presentation.

  He walked to the doors, entered the code to release us and stepped through, pausing in the hallway, his back still to me. “I’ll meet you in the dining room whenever you’re ready. The presentation picks up there.” He walked away.

  I took two quick steps to follow him, then pulled up, twisting my hands and exhaling loud enough that it echoed against the walls. If he heard, it didn’t affect him.

  CHAPTER 9

  I RAN A hand through my hair and paced past the entrance to the dining room, still trying to figure out where I’d gone wrong. Why did she have to be so damn attractive? And funny, and smart? It took everything I’d had not to kiss her and I let my ego feed on the possibility that maybe that was what had made her mad—the not kissing.

  The truth was far more depressing. She thought I was a waste of her time. Not because she didn’t like me, but because I was from an all female galaxy and this Union required a female/male bond.

  But from what Finfal had told me when she’d granted me my reprieve, as a male Samarian, Lility could pick me. The only way I was a waste of her time was if she’d already made her decision and wanted one of the other candidates. If that was the case, I needed to find out who.

  I lifted my head and glanced down the hallway but she wasn’t on the way. With the way she’d ended the sim, I had a feeling she was going to be a while, which gave me the perfect diversion to go research the possibilities of my competition.

  Turning back the other way, I raced toward the barracks to ensure privacy for the call. At the end of a long hallway, I turned right into the representative’s quarters, trying to be quiet in case she was across the way in hers. No light peeked from below the entry door, so I assumed she wasn’t in there, but I din’t want her to think I’d come looking for her and rush. What I needed now was time.

  I spun the chair and sat hard, my fingers already working the controls. While I searched, I pinged Finfal, hoping she’d call me and could help me out. The first ten searches brought u
p no sort of bias about the current Pearl’s decisions, but tons of lists guessing who she’d pick and why. A lot of speculation toward the Hemperklu. I kept looking; no way would someone like Lility find herself with a Hemp, no matter how much of a charmer the guy was.

  The intercommunicator rang and I slapped the receiver, putting Finfal’s call through. “The presentation seems to be progressing well.”

  “Yeah. Listen, who’s her top choice?”

  A crease furrowed her brow. “You, Dirk. It must be you.”

  I shook my head and waved her concern away. “Yeah, I know that. I still have two days. But who was it before? There has to be one presentation that stood out, one that put someone on top.”

  Finfal glanced away, the elongated curve of her neck exposed beneath the silk robe that draped her. “That shouldn’t matter.”

  I leaned close to the intercommunicator. “You want me to do my job, or you want to tell me how to do it?” I hated it when people treated me like I was incompetent. I could do the fucking job, I just needed tools and information and enough time.

  “When you request my advice, you receive all of it, not merely the parts you prefer.”

  “Fine.” I groaned and let my head fall into my hands. “What?”

  “She’s enamored with you, Dirk. That made her request the halt of the presentation, can’t you see?”

  I shook my head, but didn’t lift it to look at her. “No. That’s not what’s troubling her.”

  “Oh, it’s one of many things troubling her. I know Lility.”

  My head jerked up. “What?” she hadn’t told me that. Jesus, had she, I’d have grilled the hell out of her for inside information I could use during this thing. Everyone had buttons and it was clear that Lility had all but trained hers to behave, but they were still there somewhere, just begging to be pushed.

  She smiled. “I trained Lility. You never bothered to ask me how well I knew her. I would gladly have passed along the information had you deemed it necessary at the time.”