Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“Delicious!” she told the pastry seller.
“Why, I’m glad you like it, dearie.” The Gemmite woman beamed at her. “Now you go on and enjoy the rest of the market. It’ll be closing soon, you know, so if you want to buy any more sweeties or trinkets, you’d best be on your way.”
“Thank you,” Torri said, smiling at her. She took another pastry ball and dipped it in the jam before lifting it to Vic’s mouth. “Here—try this.”
He opened his mouth obligingly and chewed with pleasure.
“Delicious,” he murmured as they walked away from the pastry stall. “But I still think I like your grandmother’s cinnamon apples better.”
“Nana’s apples can’t be beat,” Torri agreed. “But this pastry is pretty close.”
They wandered down the rows of stalls, eating the pastry and chatting in the chilly air. Dusk began to fall and while some of the merchants packed up and left, others simply draped the tops of their booths with glimmering nets of lights that sparkled like tiny stars in the darkness.
To Torri, it felt magical, walking arm-in-arm with the big Kindred, eating something sweet, and being close to each other as the alien merchants cried their wares.
I’ll never forget this, she thought. Not if I live to be a hundred.
They found several more things she liked as they moved along the row of stalls. One was an intricately embroidered shawl that looked thick and warm. It was woven out of some puffy kind of alien wool that was incredibly soft to touch but very warming, the seller assured them.
Supposedly, it was a natural insulator and would hold every bit of body heat in—which would be useful on such a cold planet, Torri thought. Plus, the shawl displayed beautiful workmanship with elaborate patterns of pink and red and orange and yellow embroidered on a deep blue background that reminded her of the color of Vic’s eyes.
“Would you like it?” the seller asked them, reaching for her energy meter, which looked much the same as the one the pastry seller had used, except it was much taller.
“Yes, please.” Torri nodded eagerly.
“Will you take payment in sex or violence?” Vic enquired, frowning.
“Either one you like,” the seller said. “But if you’re going to pay with romance, you’ll have to do a good job. I’ll want at least twenty-five yorns for the shawl—I won’t insult you by asking less.”
“Twenty-five yorns?” Torri asked, frowning. “Can you show us how much that is, please?”
“Of course. Look here…” The seller indicated her meter, where the red line was just below the half-way point. “Here’s a single yorn,” she said, indicating a section about two centimeters wide. “I’ll need twenty-five of those for the shawl.” And she indicated a spot much higher on the meter.
Torri frowned as she measured the space with her eyes. It was considerably more than they had paid for the pastry. But that only made sense, she supposed, since the shawl must have taken hours to hand-embroider. She looked up at Vic.
“Do you think we can do it?”
He lifted an eyebrow.
“With just a kiss? Probably not. But if you’ll allow me to touch you as well, we might be able to manage it.”
“Touch me where?” Torri bit her lip. She loved the feel of the big Kindred’s hands on her but they were still in public here.
His blue eyes went half-lidded.
“Your breasts,” he murmured. “I think we can generate enough energy without doing anything, er, below the belt.”
Torri bit her lip. She really wanted the shawl—it would make a wonderful souvenir to remember her one and only trip to an alien world. But she was still embarrassed to let Vic fondle her in public.
The big Kindred seemed to sense her hesitation.
“If you would rather hit or slap me to pay for the shawl, you can do that instead,” he offered. “The seller did say she will accept payment in either sex or violence.”
“Hit you or slap you? No!” Torri exclaimed, horrified at the idea. “Absolutely not—I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I recover very quickly,” Vic told her. “I will not be offended.”
“I don’t care about that—I don’t want anything badly enough to hurt you to get it!”
“Then you must either forget about the shawl, or let me touch you while we kiss.” Vic raised an eyebrow at her. “Which do you prefer?”
Torri nibbled her bottom lip. She really wanted the shawl—not just because it would make a fabulous souvenir but because it was really cold out here! She hadn’t thought that the red giant sun gave off much heat or light, but the air was noticeably colder now that it had set.
“All right,” she told Vic at last. “Just don’t…make it obvious, okay?”
“I’ll shield you with my body as we kiss,” he promised, his voice a soft growl. “That way no one can see me pleasuring you.”
Torri felt a jolt of desire go through her as he reached for her and she flowed willingly into his arms.