Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
“No.” She swipes away at another tear as it rolls down her cheek.
“Are you mad you had to stay on the ship? Because it really wasn’t safe, fluffit.” I wipe my hands with a cloth and the open the door wider. “Trust me on that.”
She shakes her head again, and then stares at her palms. “Do…do you think my hands are rough?”
That’s a weird, random sort of thing to ask. “I mean, you’re definitely strong for a human if that’s what you’re asking.”
Her face crumples and she cries harder, a sob escaping her.
Oh kef. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m somehow responsible. More than that, I just need her to stop crying. It makes me hurt all over on her behalf. “Hey, hey,” I say softly, putting a hand on the back of her neck and pulling her in against my greasy tunic. “You can’t cry.”
“Because it’ll make my face bloated?” She weeps even harder.
“No, because it makes me sad and when I get sad, I punch things. So please don’t be sad, Dora.” I rub her back when she leans into me. “Come on. Let’s go talk and you can tell me what’s bothering you and how big of a jerk Jamef is.”
She lets out a watery laugh, but goes with me when I steer her down the hall towards our bedroom. “Jamef isn’t a jerk. He’s always good to me.”
Well now, that implies that one of us isn’t always good to her, and I’m afraid that leaves me. I grimace. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head as I lead her into our room and slide the door shut behind us. “I just…I don’t know what to do. I guess I’m worried and feeling uncertain about my place.” Dora sniffs again. “Like the fact that I can’t earn any credits for us.”
What? “Why would you need to earn credits?” I tug her toward the bed and sit her down, then sit next to her. I even curl my tail around her leg, because Jamef does that to me and it feels good, and I want to do the same for her. “Dora, I told you I’d take care of you when we first met, remember? Nothing’s changed.”
“Yes, but now we don’t have any credits.” She swipes at her eyes again, distressed. “In fact, Jamef spent all of his and I was selfish enough to get some dresses. What if he gets mad that I spent all his money? What if you do? I don’t want you guys to think I’m a burden.”
A burden? “Dora, you’re the only thing that keeps us from falling apart.” I reach over and gently brush my thumb over her cheek, wiping away her tears. “Don’t cry, fluffit. It makes the tip of your nose red.”
My joke fails. Her expression turns miserable and she weeps fresh tears. “That’s bad, isn’t it? Now I’m an ugly human.”
Where the kef is all of this coming from? Dora’s been so self-assured, it’s like she got all the confident, crafty parts of her original donor. I love that about her. To hear her crying over things like her appearance or how many credits we’ve spent, it isn’t like her. It’s like—
Ah, kef me.
I tip Dora’s face up, my finger under her chin. “Let me guess. You’ve been talking to our new guest, Rhonda.”
She nods, and I could smack myself.
Eighty-Three
BETHIAH
“Soooo,” I begin. “You need to know a few things about Rhonda, fluffit.”
Dora gives me a sad-eyed look that makes me feel keffing awful. “She’s really beautiful.”
“I know. She’s got the best face her master can buy. She’s always been obsessed with her appearance and with credits. Just because she talks about that kind of shit doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with you.” I stroke her soft cheek, wishing I had the words for how appealing I find Dora. I love her big, dark eyes and her bouncy breasts. More than that, though, I love her happy smile. I love the way she looks at me and Jamef. I love the way she’s so enthusiastic and forthright about everything. I love how she wants to take care of us and remembers that I like my night tea plain. She’s thoughtful and kind.
Rhonda is nothing like her.
She stares down at her hands, eyeing her short nails. “I don’t think Rhonda’s wrong, though. No one wants an ugly slave.”
“I’m going to stop you right there, fluffit. Two things are wrong with that statement. First of all, you’re not a slave. And second, you think an appearance is all that matters? You think I’m with Jamef because he’s the most handsome male in the galaxy?” When she gives me a reluctant smile, I give her chin a little shake. “I’m with him because he’s exciting and stubborn and his personality interests me. I like him so much that if I could peel him and wear him as a skinsuit, I would. I’d do the same for you.”