Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 135784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
My aching hips twinge and I shift in my seat.
Bethiah looks over at me and smirks. "Rough night?"
I don't answer her. I let Jerrok's glare speak for both of us.
"Tough crowd. Glad my business is done here." She sighs and leans over Jerrok's chair as he works. Her ship has been repainted and I watched with interest as Jerrok created falsified flight records for The Pleasure Spot, uploading them to a distant station that he has an inside connection with. I'm so impressed with everything he can do, and he's never looked sexier as he sits on the stool and uploads the fake logs to the comm unit while Bethiah watches.
Or maybe he's just making me all squirmy with arousal because I know just how he uses his hips and what that spur—and the piercings—feels like.
Yeah, I really, really can't wait for Bethiah to leave.
Jerrok pushes out of his chair with a glance over at me. "Think you're ready to go, cousin. Let me do a quick check on the engine systems since we removed your back-up." He moves to my chair, presses a kiss atop my head, and then heads out.
I melt at the little show of affection, because I know he's not the demonstrative sort. This morning, though, we've been unable to keep our hands off each other. Something tells me that the moment Bethiah's ship leaves the dock, we're going to be back in the bedroom. I can't wait.
Bethiah slinks into the seat Jerrok has vacated and begins to tap on the controls. I watch her idly, munching on dry noodles and daydreaming about what I'll do to Jerrok the moment we're alone. I need to get Sleipnir something to chew on, and—
"Remember our little conversation, Softie?"
"Hmm?" I blink, looking over at Bethiah.
"About me tearing you limb from limb if you hurt my cousin?" She flips a switch and reads a message that rolls on screen, then glances over at me. "Still holds true, by the way. I will rip you to shreds if you hurt him."
"I don't plan on hurting anyone." I'm a little confused as to why she thinks I'm out to shred Jerrok's soul or something. "I really like him and he likes me back. What's so weird about that?"
"Because it's not going to work out, Softie," Bethiah turns toward me, hissing. There's a wounded light in her eyes. "It's all fun and games in the bedroom, but the moment someone asks for commitment, you humans always back out." She shakes her head. "We both know that you being here is going to cause him nothing but problems."
Her words sting, mostly because they have the ring of truth in them. I really don't belong on this station, or anywhere else in the galaxy. That's the problem…I don't belong anywhere, and I certainly haven't been asked to stay. "Jerrok knows this thing between us is temporary. We're just having fun." The words sound hollow to my own ears, and my excitement about being alone with Jerrok takes a nosedive. Me being here has been nothing but problems for him so far. He's probably going to be thrilled when I leave.
The noodles I've been crunching on suddenly taste like ash in my mouth. I toss the bag aside, wanting to flee the ship.
"I'm just trying to set realistic expectations for both of you," Bethiah says cheerily, toggling another switch. "It's for the best."
"We're just…fooling around. I promise. It means nothing." Maybe if I say it often enough, I'll believe it. "I'm leaving with the va Sithai anyhow." Especially since I haven't been asked to stay, and Bethiah's made it quite clear that I don't belong out here.
"You'll have to tell them I said hello," Bethiah replies absently, adjusting her seat as if she's ready to take off right now.
"Will do." I jump up from my seat, the urge to flee overwhelming, and nearly run into Jerrok as I escape the bridge. The look on his face is downright sour, and I love it, even though I shouldn't. God, I'm a mess when it comes to this guy. I manage a bright smile. "I'm…going to get back to scrapping."
I race off the ship and back into the hangar before I can hear Bethiah natter on about anything else. Once I'm out in the bay, I feel like I can breathe again. I take in several lungfuls of recycled station air, appreciating the slight mineral tang of it. I head for the scrapping station, but Jerrok's goggles are on the table, and the sight of them just makes my heart ache because I love seeing him in them, hard at work. I veer away, heading for the terrarium.
The plants look vibrant this particular morning, the fake station light set to mimic a sunrise. Water droplets sparkle on the leaves, and the air is humid with a fresh watering. I guess I can't weed or plant, either, until the soil dries up a little more, because the mud just gets cakey and makes it hard to work. With a sigh, I find my favorite bench and sink onto it. My sore muscles protest, but this time, they don't feel like a sexy badge of pride.