A low cry comes from the office, along with the slap of flesh.
I gasp, clutching at Mathiras’s arm. “Is he hurting her?”
“Only if she wants it,” Mathiras murmurs.
Zebah flounces over to one of the beds and flings herself down. I notice Tikosa’s gaze roams over her before he shakes his head and heads out of the room. “I’ll let the boss know he’s got guests.”
“They sound like they’ll be done soon,” Mathiras tells him.
Tikosa just snorts. “Trust me, they won’t be.”
Oh. Fascinated, I listen closely. There’s definitely a wet slap of skin and more cries. Some groaning. A low murmuring. The cries get louder and heat pulses between my thighs. It sounds like he’s being rough with her but when she cries out again, followed by a “harder,” it’s obvious that she’s having fun. I glance up at Mathiras. His ears are flushed that deep blue and he’s pointedly looking away from the office door. It makes me think about our touches. Mathiras is happy to kiss me and touch me all over, but I always steer us back to his pleasure, because that’s not scary for me. But as the female’s sounds escalate and make my body throb, I wonder if I’m going about this all wrong. Maybe it’s good to be scared for a moment?
I think Mathiras would walk me through it. He wouldn’t let me get too scared. He’d hold my hand the entire time, and then I’d get to make those cries.
I like the idea. Leaning over to Mathiras, I whisper, “When we get back to the ship, will you make me come?”
His tail snaps so hard it practically spanks me. “You want to talk about that now?”
“Is now a bad time?” I glance over at Zebah, and she’s got her hands behind her head, relaxing on one of the cots, but I notice her gaze is focused on us. Oh. Right. “We’ll talk about it in the shower.”
Behind the door, the male lets out an angry growl that sounds a little scary. It’s followed by a throaty female giggle and the low murmur of conversation. A moment later, the door opens and the waft of fresh, musky sex fills the room. A human female stumbles out, her face flushed and sweaty. She’s smiling and adjusting her dress, and I notice that she’s got pretty brown hair and a pleasant smile, and a tattoo of a word across her throat. “Don’t mind me,” she says, breathless. “I’ll just head into the shop and see if Tikosa needs any help.”
She saunters past and I could swear that she’s walking funny. Huh.
“This better be good,” a male growls, and I turn…and gasp. The male that was with the human is so strange looking. His blue skin is covered in scars, and the parts that aren’t covered in scars are covered in metal. The long line of a strong mesakkah jaw is all metal, and it makes him look real angry and mean. He’s got metal all over his chest and arms, and when he glares at us and then turns to go back into his office, I see metal studding all the way up his back like a ladder. Even his tail is metal.
I wonder if that hurts.
I wonder if I can touch it. I squeeze my fingers, imagining what the metal feels like, and Mathiras snags my hand. “No.”
Darn it.
Mathiras heads into Zakoar’s office and I trail after him, Zebah on my heels. Inside the office is even more junk, metal and clutter littering every possible surface except the front of the desk, where I can still see a faint sweaty imprint of the human’s front. The metal mesakkah gets a rag and wipes down the front of his desk and then glares at us. “This couldn’t wait a day?”
“It’s entirely possible we won’t be on this station in another day, and I need your help, old friend.” Mathiras slides a pile of credits in his direction. “I’m looking for information on human slaves.”
The male looks even angrier and leans forward, pressing his knuckles to the surface of the desk in a menacing gesture. “Are you keffing stupid? Did you see my mate that just left? What makes you think I want to help you buy slaves?”
“We’re not looking to buy,” Mathiras continues, unruffled. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
“I thought I did, too, but people change.” The male frowns in my direction. I wave at him, beaming. He looks over at Zebah and then groans. “Not you again. Leave Tikosa alone. You keep keffing with him and one day he’s just gonna snap, and I won’t be responsible for what he does.”
“Me?” Zebah puts a hand to her chest, mock-outraged. “I’m innocent of whatever you’re accusing me of.”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word innocent.” He gestures at the door. “All of you, out of my office. We’re done here.”