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)
He licks my hand in response.
Right. I can be brave and grab at whatever happiness comes my way.
With Sleipnir at my side, I head into Jerrok's quarters. He's got his goggles on, obscuring his eyes from me, but he straightens the moment I arrive. The goggles whirr as he looks up at me. "Everything all right?"
"Yep." I can feel myself blushing as I put a hand to my neckline. "I just thought I'd come to bed, if that's all right."
"Of course." He hesitates and then picks up his tools again. "Is this going to bother you?"
"Not at all." It's on the tip of my tongue to invite him to join me, but the words don't come out. I just bleat like an idiot, blush, and then scurry over to the bed and slide under the blankets. Chicken, I scold myself again as Sleipnir bounds into bed next to me and settles at my legs, tossing one protective paw over them. You're such a chicken. He'd join you if you asked.
Jerrok picks up his tool again, prying out a bit of metal from a chassis. It makes a clanging noise as his sharp-edged tool skids and hits the circuit-board and he swears under his breath again. It's clear he's not concentrating, and there's something about the tension in his big body that makes me suck a deep breath and get up the nerves to speak.
"Why don't you come join me?" I ask, and pat the bed when he turns around to look in my direction.
He smiles, and some of the tension I've been holding onto disappears. I return his smile and scoot over as he puts his tools away and strips his tunic off, then his boots and goggles. He leaves his pants on, and I know that's for my benefit. I'm not brave enough to ask him to take them off, though. Not yet. When he sits on the side of the bed, everything creaks, and he eyes the carinoux hogging the lower half of the bed warily. "He going to let me join you?"
"He will." I call Sleipnir and pat the other side of the bed, indicating he should move. The carinoux shoots us both a grumpy look but does as he's told, and Jerrok swings his legs onto the bed and lies down beside me. He's flat on his back, his hands folded on his chest. He looks terribly uncomfortable, and I reach over and take one of his hands in mine.
Our fingers link and he rubs his thumb against mine. "You want the lights out?"
"Sure."
He calls out a command and the lights dim, leaving us in a pleasant darkness. It's never fully dark in the station, with tiny track-lighting set along the walls of the hallways, but it's dark enough. "You want it darker so you don't have to see my face?" he asks suddenly.
"I like your face."
Jerrok rolls onto his side, facing me, and then we're nose to nose, obscenely close. Our breath mingles, and my skin prickles with a mixture of fear and excitement. "We don't have to do this, you know."
The wariness is back in his tone. He sounds distant, even though we've never been closer. I squeeze his hand.
"We can go back to the way things were," he offers. "Just forget about any of the conversations we had today. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, or pressured, or—"
I lean forward and kiss him.
It's just a quick peck on the lips, but it stops him in his tracks and silences him.
I smile shyly and give him another kiss on the mouth, letting my lips linger just a little bit longer. Tasting him. I lightly press a third onto his lips and then snuggle close because I like sharing breath with him.
"Can I kiss you back?" he asks hoarsely.
His request makes me skittish. That fear prickles through me again. "I…I don't know."
"I'm happy with whatever you're comfortable with, Sophie," he says quietly.
"I don't know what I want anymore," I admit. I reach a hand up to touch him and then lower it again. "My head's full of worry even though I know it's just you. I know you wouldn't hurt me, but I can't seem to quiet all the stuff in my mind that makes me anxious." I bite my lip and look over at him. His hair is shiny and dry, sliding through the cage of his horns, and I'm itching to touch it. "What do you do when you're anxious?"
"Jerk one out."
I let out a horrified giggle. "That was not the answer I was expecting."
"It's true, though." His eyes narrow and he props up, resting on an elbow. "That gives me an idea."
I'm a little wary of the turns this conversation is taking. Wary…and breathless. "You're going to jerk one out?"
He chuckles. "No. I mean, yes. The moment we're done here," And he gestures at the bed. "I'm probably going to get up and jerk one out in the shower just because I don't want to stab you with my cock all night long." Jerrok watches me with such an intense gaze. "But I wasn't talking about me. I was talking about you."