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)
“Nope.”
And because I can’t seem to walk away when she’s around, I slink forward. The bedroom has been tidied, and I can see Jamef’s clothes in the nook that serves as a closet. The bed is made, too. Bethiah thumps down on the edge of it and tugs off one boot, tossing it to the ground. Then, the other. Once that’s done, she flops back onto the bed dramatically and folds her arms behind her head, staring up at the ceiling. She doesn’t look happy. “You wanna talk about it?”
“What’s there to talk about? I’m not having sex at this moment because there’s unfinished business between you and me, and Jamef won’t have it, even though I threw myself at him.”
I flinch. “Unfinished business?”
“Very unfinished. He thinks you might get hurt if you come across us mating like wild animals.”
My brows furrow. “Because of…claws? Or if someone kicks a leg out?” I try to imagine what it would look like with them “mating like wild animals” and I’m imagining a lot of teeth and snarling…which probably isn’t too far off the truth.
“Because you’ve got a soft heart, fluffit.” Bethiah sits up in bed and then gives me a speculative look. “He thinks you’ll cry big, sad tears if you see someone else licking my cunt.”
I give her a wide-eyed, alarmed stare. She makes it sound like a bad thing. She also makes it sound completely and utterly one-sided, which is crap considering she’d moved on me first. “Are you just looking for someone to blame because you’re not getting laid?”
“Yes.” She leans toward me, her hands on the edge of the bed. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?” Answering her feels dangerous.
“Keffing hells, pay attention, fluffit. Do you want me or not?” Her eyes narrow and she pats the spot on the bed next to her. “Because if you do, we can make Jamef really jealous. You can take a seat right on my face and we’ll squirt all over his bed. It’ll make him wild with irritation and his cock will be so hard he won’t be able to walk for a week.” She winks at me. “What do you say?”
I’m speechless.
Part of me is shocked at her crass words. Part of me is utterly titillated—sit on her face? Ride her beautiful mouth until she makes me come? My body flushes with interest just thinking about it. But…I’m not sure I like her phrasing or the hard look glittering in her eyes. “So is this because you want to be with me or because you want to make Jamef sorry?”
She tilts her head, her long hair spilling over her shoulder in a mess of braids, and gives me a wicked, carefree smile. “You should know that I don’t form emotional attachments, fluffit. It’s just sex. It’s meant to be fun.”
“What if putting on a show isn’t fun for me? What if we just have very quiet sex somewhere private and don’t tell Jamef?” What if it’s just about me and pleasure and not about throwing it in the face of others?
Bethiah gives me an incredulous look. “But why wouldn’t you want him to know? Think of how crazy it’ll make him to smell us all over his bed.” Her eyes gleam, her smile spreading enough to show a hint of sharp fang.
Her answer makes my heart ache. It’s not about being with me as much as it is punishing Jamef. It would be about emotion for me, but not for her. To her, I’m just a tool to be used.
“Pass,” I say, voice wobbling. It takes everything I have to turn around and walk out of the room without crying, but I manage.
Twenty-Seven
DORA
The ship feels too small for three people at odds with one another. I can’t go to the bedroom because Bethiah is there. I can’t go to the bridge because Jamef is there. I feel like I can’t go to the holding cell, either, because they’ll just judge me if I do. So I flee towards the cargo hold and squeeze my way against the wall, huddling between two crates of noodles. Once there, I hug my legs to my chest, bury my face in my arms, and have a good long cry.
“Can I join you?”
I look up at Jamef’s hard face, his red eye and the flat line of his mouth. He doesn’t look like one to dole out sympathy. I sniff, swiping my hand under my nose. “There’s no room. Crybaby corner is full.”
He scowls down at me. “Who told you that you were a crybaby?”
No one had to tell me. I know I am. I shake my head, ignoring him.
One of the massive crates scrapes against the floor and then in the next moment, it’s lifted into the air. I see Jamef’s bionic arm flexing as he stacks it atop the crate nearby, and then he moves to my side, sitting down next to me with a creak of limbs. His back is to the wall like mine, but his legs sprawl out in front of him. He sets his hands on his thighs, awkward, and then glances over at me. “You wanna talk about it?”