by Pearl Tate
We continue to moan together as we’re both tortured by my slow leisurely movements until I pause, pulling my lips from his and sitting back, resting my ass on his hips. I can feel him deep inside me, pulsing in time to his heartbeat. Mihile’s eyes open, and we look at each other, the entire world dropping away.
A surge of emotion shoots through my body as we pause to savor each other. I know it’s soon but I know how I feel about him. “I love you, Mihile.”
Reaching a hand to my neck, he pulls me down to rest my forehead against his, whispering, “I love you too, Nitara. Forever.” His lips meet mine in a searing kiss that shoots a bolt of need through my body. Grinding down on him, I begin a fast, rocking pace, sliding slightly up and down and riding him hard.
My climax is already building. Riding him frantically, I grind my hips against him with every downward stroke as my body clenches him hard. Pleasure tears through me as my orgasm hits. Our lips rip apart as I cry out, and Mihile grips my hips, continuing our movements from below me, encouraging my body on every stroke and spiking my pleasure higher.
Groaning one final time, he buries himself deep inside me, and a pulsing deep in my core begins as he releases. Panting above him, I cling to him and enjoy the gratifying feeling of him clutching me as if I’m the only thing he’ll ever need. I know that in the days to come, we’ll both be pulled in opposite directions with everything that’ll need to be done. But right now...
Collapsing on top of him, I rest my cheek on his colorful mating marks as I enjoy the afterglow from our gratifying sex. Twinges of sensation streak from between my legs as Mihile strokes my back. “Thank you,” I whisper, turning my head to rest my chin on his chest.
Mihile’s expression is puzzled as he looks down at me. “For what? You know nothing we did here was a hardship to me.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “I know, but not just for the sex. Thank you for coming into my life. I’m so happy right now and you’re the reason for that. You’re just so different…” My voice trails off as I tear up, thinking about where I came from, and all the men there that torment and objectify women.
“Oh, Nitara. You make me so happy too. Everything in my life is such a marvel. So different and exciting. Even though it may take some time to get there, I have a new world, a new family, and new friends to look forward to. With you.”
Mihile thrusts up in me, his hands dropping to my ass, pinning me to him. “I want to do everything with you. Let’s start now.”
Dropping my head, I hug him tightly, burying my face in his neck. He’s right, this is a new beginning. For everyone.
About Pearl Tate
I’m super excited to be spreading my wings and sharing what I enjoy!
I’m happily married to the love of my life and working on being the best mom possible to our great children.
I love all kinds of stories but there is a special place in my heart for all forms of romance. The good, the bad and yes, even the ugly. When I write, I get to make sure there is always a happily ever after and that is the best part of all!
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SINTH SAVIOR
CHAPTER ONE
- Amy
Well, this is definitely not how I planned on spending my evening. I’m hanging out in the backseat of my car somewhere in the outskirts of Yosemite National Park—because I’m a chicken. What’s the matter with me? Why can’t I be better at facing things head-on?
When my waste-of-space boyfriend told me earlier tonight that he’d managed to get a job, I was shocked. For real? He’s been looking for only five … no, almost six months now.
Under a blanket that’s way too short to cover my feet, I shift and try to escape the bump in the middle of the seat so that it isn’t right in my mid-back, but it seems to follow me. The backseat isn’t comfortable, and neither am I. I wouldn’t be here if I could just address things like a grown-up.
To say Brad and I had a little blowout is definitely putting it mildly. Why is it that men always expect you to just up and relocate for them? Why is it that their careers are always first or more important?
Yeah, I don’t have a “career” per se … but that doesn’t mean that when he gets a job halfway across the country I’m going to move. Come on!
From the floorboards to my right, I hear the preset ringtone for Brad chime from inside my purse. It only takes a second for me to snatch my cellphone out and see the cute photo of us from when we visited a vineyard last summer. My friend Samantha took it for us when we went on a double date tour together. With loving smiles on our faces, the snapshot portrays a couple head over heels in love, which is such a crock of shit and unrealistic reality.
“Yes?” I say, answering the call and trying my damnedest not to sound as tired as I feel. The hours often fluctuate at my temp job depending on which office I’m filling in for, and this week has been no different. For some reason, concrete companies think office hours are six thirty to three.
“Where are you, Amy?” Brad’s initial sigh of relief after hearing my voice quickly turns sour as his anger ramps up—again. “Why’re you doing this? You had to know there was a real possibility I’d have to relocate for work.”
Did I? Oh, yeah. Of course, I did.
I was actually kind of thankful for that, and I’d been crossing my fingers that his relocation would be sooner rather than later. “Yes.” Mindful of the quiet forest I’m parked in, my voice is a whisper. Most national parks have signs saying camping only in designated areas, and I’m definitely not in one of them.
“So, what’s the problem?” Over the phone, I can hear Brad pouring himself a drink as he waits for my answer. I notice the telltale clink of ice before the clatter of a bottle, likely the Crown he had picked up to ‘celebrate,’ against a table … or countertop … or nightstand … Wherever he happens to be while his personal party continues.
“There’s not really a problem …” My voice wavers and drifts off. What the fuck is wrong with me? This is my chance to air it all. He can’t find me right now, and he’ll be gone within days. “It’s just … I never agreed that I’d go wherever your employment took you. I’m not ready for that next step in our relationship—”
“Living together? We already live together, Amy.” I hate how he repeats my name over and over when he’s drunk … or mad at me … or in this case, probably both ...
Taking a deep breath, I finally let out all the frustration at his controlling nature. “I know. And I thought I’d be okay with that—”
“Thought you’d be okay with that? Amy, really?” Brad roars, and I can envision the spit shooting out of his mouth.
This is exactly what I hate. It doesn’t matter what “it” is. If it isn’t Brad’s way, it’s wrong.
As he continues ranting, I realize even though he started the call relatively calm and honestly wanting to know what’s going on in my head, he really doesn’t.
He may even think he wants to know, but from the nastiness he’s spewing now, he’s just drunk. Not even bothering to wait for him to finish, I cut in, stating, “Maybe I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” before hanging up.
Fuck me. I’m the one with red hair. You’d think I’d be the hot-head, but Brad takes the cake.
Before he calls me back, I dial my friend Jen who’s been waiting for this call for months.
She immediately answer
s, saying, “Did you do it? Tell me you did it … Amy, you did it, right?”
Rolling my eyes, I don’t let her presumptuousness put me out. She’s right. She’s always right.
“Yes, but what if I hadn’t? And before you say it, let me just add on … you’re right.”
“Thank you.” I roll to my side, trying to get more comfortable, as I wait for her to continue. “Are you okay, though?” Her sincere voice is quiet in my ear, and the stark difference between her and Brad’s tone confirms again I’m making the right decision by ending it with him.
Taking a moment, I consider her question. She’s the one who told me three months ago she’d seen Brad out with another woman. I could have questioned him on it, but why?
By that time, I already knew things weren’t the way I wanted them to be long-term.
And don’t get me wrong, either. Jen said they weren’t just having a business dinner or something casual. There was kissing and groping, and it was very clear there was some kind of relationship going on.
Part of the problem is that I don’t have anywhere to go but home with my father. I do need to go back to pick up some of my belongings and memories of my mother, who passed when I was young, but staying for any length of time is out of the question. Who wants to do that? Moving back in with my just remarried parent and his new wife and her kids. No, thanks.
“Yes, I’m okay. I’m more than okay … I’m relieved.” Closing my eyes, I let my body relax and sink into the bench seat in the back of my old Dodge. This isn’t that bad. I’ll be able to sleep.
There’s silence for a few more moments before Jen asks, “Where are you? I mean … it’s kind of quiet.”
Laughing softly, I have to agree. Living with Brad has been anything but quiet. He’s a talker. And yeller. “I’m parked out in the woods at Yosemite. I’m going to crash here for the night, but I was hoping—”
“Of course! You should’ve come right over. I told you anytime.” Her sincere reassurance helps my body relax even more. She really did mean it.
“I know, but I don’t want to step on your toes—or Ken’s.” My voice goes up questioningly. This is the real crux of the issue. Her husband is wonderful, but he’s sick. Really sick.
Suffering from cancer, he’s in his second round of chemo, and neither one of them needs my juvenile drama. Ken needs quiet and sleep and certainly not me banging on the door in the middle of the night. They live about forty-five minutes away in Fresno, so when I left the house near midnight, I knew I didn’t want to drive all the way over there tonight.
“Oh, I have a temp job bright and early tomorrow morning,” I tell her. “It’s Friday and my last day. They wouldn’t be impressed if I didn’t show.”
“Ah. Okay. So, I’ll see you after work tomorrow?” Jen’s hopeful tone lets me know she could use me right now just as much as I need her. I can’t imagine what she’s going through, watching the man she loves and pledged her life to suffer and get weaker every day.
“For sure. And it might be earlier than you’d expect.” I yawn loudly as I explain. “I’ll be done by three, so I can be there around four or so. Is that cool?”
“Yes. Actually, I can’t wait.” Jen’s voice drops as she admits what I’ve suspected over the last six weeks. “I miss you. It’s been … hard.” Her voice breaks as she grinds out what I’m sure has been difficult to admit. It just makes me feel worse that I haven’t been there for her. For support and to be the friend she needs right now.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been so sucked up in this bullshit with Brad—”
“No, no. I don’t mean to make you feel bad—”
“But, it’s true. And it’s so silly. I don’t know why I don’t have the balls to just break up with him. I’m such a putz.”
Jen laughs softly, and I know she’s trying to keep it down and not wake up her husband. I should let her go. I’m sure she’s up when he is, fixing him whatever he can tolerate to eat and keep down. Helping him get better.
“Listen, you go to bed, and I’ll see you tomorrow. How about I bring us dinner?”
“Crazy Mike’s?” Jen doesn’t hide her excitement at the prospect of our favorite fast food chain. It’s about fifteen miles outside of the city, so I’m sure she doesn’t get out there very often.
“For sure!” I can picture her doing a happy dance as she squeals softly over the phone. “Let me let you go, and just leave me a voicemail if you think of anything else you want me to bring, okay? This firm I’m working for is not flexible about personal calls.”
“Sounds good. I will, and drive safe, okay? And Amy … I love you. I’m so proud you’re leaving him.”
Not bothering to correct her—because, I mean technically, he’s leaving me. Instead, I murmur, “Love you, too,” before ending our call. I can explain it to her tomorrow. Jen’s my best friend, and she’ll forgive me.
Sitting up and folding the sweater I was using as a pillow, a strange glow out the front window catches my eye. It’s blue and not a nice sky blue. No, this is a grating, neon teal blue and it’s beginning to flash over the tops of the trees. I can’t see what’s making it because I’m not in the front seat, but I watch as the lights crawl slowly down the trunks and leaves in front of me.
Swiveling in the seat and peering through the rear window, I try to confirm that what I’m seeing isn’t just a cop car or something with its flashing lights on behind me. Except for the same flashing reflection high above, I don’t see anything that could be causing it. For some reason, I’m suddenly afraid. What could it be?
A helicopter? Who’d be out here trying to land a helicopter in a heavily forested area like this?
I roll over onto the floorboard and try to flatten out and hide, but as soon as I do, the entire car floods with light. Bright light. Like daylight.
I can’t see anything outside the car now, but no sooner does my tired, overactive imagination register that fact, then there’s a big flash of green, my ears pop, and everything goes dark.
CHAPTER TWO
- Mavin
A high-pitched screech echoes against the canyon walls, pulling my attention from the squat buildings used for food trade storage. I watch a pulkay take down a mik. Both animals look evil with their milky eyes and with drool covering their lower faces.
Turning away with disgust, I glance around at the waste surrounding me. I can remember when this planet was beautiful—and healthy. It wasn’t even that long ago. Maybe fifty of the planet’s annual rotations around its sun.
I was one of the original investigators to the contamination on Teleplay. This planet has developed into a cautionary tale of what can go wrong—and just how quickly. All it took was a stupid Fakel bringing a Wen along for the ride while he was trolling new planets for gal.
Gal is valuable in almost every solar system due to its unique properties of conducting power and discovering the mineral will make you rich. I can understand why it was tempting to take along a Wen, since they have their own uncanny affinity to the ore, but if you do that—this dying planet is what you end up with.
The Wen’s bodies excrete a biological off-gas that bonds with other life forms. It doesn’t kill them immediately. No, it changes them. Like the pulkay and mik. Two animals that should never be interested in each other.
Most species don’t realize just how perfectly balanced many of these small, inhabited planets are. You can’t just start shuffling in and out of them and not think you’ll disrupt the balance in the ecosystem. When you do, you end up with the mess here.
“Mavin, report,” Trus’s demand fires clearly through my communicator.
“I’m at food trade storage station three,” I answer as I glance up again at the short building that’s more of a temporary cage than anything else. I’ve been ignoring the pull to this place my entire shift, but I just can’t any longer.
Once the planet was contaminated, there was no point in not bringing the Wen here to locate more gal. Of course, the asshole who originally cont
aminated Teleplay knew what he was doing. He got off with just a fine—a fine he was able to completely pay off in his first month’s profit. Not much of an incentive to never do it again.
“Three?” My partner and best friend, Trus, sounds as puzzled as I feel. I can’t explain why I’m here. Something has drawn me, but I’ve never felt anything like it before.
“It’s a hunch.” That’s the best I can do to explain why I’m here. I figure it can’t hurt to look around. At this point, I can’t even contemplate not going around the building to review the trade feed brought in. It’s a constant cycle for the Wen, who have an insatiable appetite.
The contaminate they transfer is a necessary evil for them to survive. Not only does it make them compatible to mate with each other, and it’s a natural part of their metabolic cycle, but the off-gas we call the Wen virus also begins the process of breaking down their potential food sources so they can consume them. It’s just an unfortunate side-effect that it’s so potent and almost always makes prey out of the sentient beings exposed to it.
“Check in after your review and swap out at nineteen perlay.” Trus logs our agreed shift change time, always following the rules—as usual. I’m sure if he’d felt the pull I did, he would ignore it. But even now, I can’t stop my feet from walking to the building that’s open on one side and enclosed on the other.
Already, I can see many familiar life forms in the contaminated section that are almost ready to be transferred to the release side. Once the Wen virus really kicks in, it’s best to release the animals to roam, or they’ll start to eat each other. The off-gas changes its victims to a sub-category form of the Wen, and they become slower and, for all intents and purposes, practically dead. The victims don’t remember their former selves. At least, that’s what I’ve been told by the scientists we have on Sinth.
