ONLY THE CLONELY

SUNRISE CANTINA

BOOK 1

RUBY DIXON

Copyright © 2024 by Ruby Dixon

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover Art: Kati Wilde

Interior Art: UncleLeo at DepositPhotos.com

Edits: Aquila Editing

Proofing: Fortunate Books

No part of this book was created with the use of AI.

Created with Vellum

ONLY THE CLONELY

The crew of the Scarlet Gaze are figuring out what they want to do now that Lord Straik sa'Rin is no longer running a corsair ship. Some of the a'ani crew want to run a cantina on Risda III.

Kazex just wants Ruthie.

Ruthie just wants to have a nervous breakdown.

Well, she wants Kazex, too. The delicious a'ani chief of security has been a steady, protective, delicious presence ever since she joined the crew. He's made it clear that he loves Ruthie as she is, nervous wreck and all. But Ruthie's afraid of what will happen to their easy friendship if she asks for more. What if kissing his tattoos and touching his sinful body changes things? It's too late for flirting - now it's time for forever. And forever terrifies her.

The only thing more terrifying? Missing her chance with Kazex entirely.

This is a friends-to-lovers between clones (one alien, one human) and starts a new spinoff series that melds the Corsair Brothers series and the Risdaverse stories.

WHO THE HELL ARE THESE PEOPLE, RUBY?

It’s come to my attention that some of you haven’t read every single book in my backlist. Or you don’t live with these characters in your head. While I cannot relate to this shocking realization, I do sympathize. ;)

In an effort to clear things up, here’s a spoiler-filled recap of where you might have seen these characters before. Skip this if you don’t want spoilers for other books!

SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS!

This book features a romance between Ruthie and Kazex, both of whom first appeared in CORSAIRS: STRAIK. In that book, Kazex is part of the crew of the Darkened Eye (which is then renamed the Scarlet Gaze). The ship is owned by Lord Straik, who runs a corsair crew made entirely of freed a’ani.

(If you are familiar with the Rubyverse, you will recall that a’ani are a race of extinct people that have been legally cloned for cheap labor. They all look alike and their skin is turned red when cloned to establish them as a’ani.)

Lord Straik falls in love with the human woman, Ruth. When he arrives at one particular space station, he’s presented with another human slave, one that looks exactly like his wife. It turns out that she goes by the name of Ruthie, and she’s a clone of the original “Ruth”.

It turns out that Ruth (Straik’s heroine) is also a clone. A third clone named Ruth-Ann also appears later on. The three women - Ruth, Ruthie, and Ruth-Ann - refer to themselves as sisters even though they are not.

To summarize - Kazex is Lord Straik’s crewman. Ruthie is the clone of Lord Straik’s wife and now lives on the ship with them. Ruth and Ruth-Ann are Ruthie’s clone sisters.

Enjoy!

CONTENT NOTES

Please be aware this story touches on the following elements that some people might not be comfortable with.

PTSD: This is a big one. Ruthie suffers from PTSD due to her cloning and therefore she struggles with nightmares, has anxiety, and especially grows anxious around making decisions. This theme is throughout the story, so please keep that in mind.

Nightmares about drowning

One character receives a piercing on-page

Mentions of prior captivity and/or enslavement

Imbibing of alcohol

If you feel like this list should be added to, let me know!

CHAPTER

ONE

(If you are interested in content warnings or need a character refresher and your book starts here, please scroll back!)

BACK THEN

RUTHIE

The worst thing about the drugs the aliens give me is when they wear off.

Not only do they leave me with a terrible headache, but I'm also completely aware of the situation I'm in. That I've somehow been kidnapped by aliens and I'm being dragged, filthy and tired, through a space port behind some nasty-looking bug guy and his goons.

I'd much rather remain in the foggy haze brought on by the drugs. They make me placid and obedient, but they also make everything seem like it's just a dream. Like all of this weird, terrifying madness is happening to someone else.

They're starting to wear off right now, much to my chagrin. I love those drugs. Right now, everything around me is still hazy like I'm in a dream, but the headache is coming on. Once the fog in my vision clears, I'll have a throbbing migraine and a desperate yearning to go under once more. No one seems inclined to give me another dose, though. They just lead/drag me through the docking bay at the space station. Normally I'd probably try to examine this to make note of my surroundings, but the drug haze makes me not care very much at all.

Without the drugs, I'd probably be hysterical.

The bug guy, Bist, stops in front of a ramp and signals for his guards to do the same. They jerk on my chains, tugging me to a halt, and I stumble forward, nearly crashing into the floating chaise that the bug guy sits atop. Bist turns to look at me and signals with one of his many arms. 

A guard grabs my face and tilts it up to Bist so he can look at me. He studies me carefully, then shudders. "Revolting thing."

Me? Revolting? He's the one that looks like an overgrown pillbug.

But I'm released and allowed to step back a little as we wait. And wait. Eventually another party meets us on the docks, and I'm dragged forward again, this time so some blue alien can stare at my face. Unlike Bist, he doesn't say I'm gross-looking. His expression is unsettled, his eyes wide. He's accompanied by guards with red skin—another type of alien, I assume—and I huddle down and try to make myself seem small and unassuming while Bist and the blue alien argue in low, hushed voices.

My head throbs.

Wincing, I close my eyes, trying to fight off the worst of the pain, when I'm suddenly jerked forward by the cuffs on my wrists. I yelp, and then, to my surprise, I'm freed.

"Take her, Kazex," the blue alien says, running a hand through his short hair. "Don't let her run. We're going back to the ship right away. Ruth has to know."

"Of course, Lord Straik."

A surprisingly gentle arm goes around my waist, and then I'm being supported against a larger body that smells pleasant and doesn't treat me like I'm a sack of grain to be thrown around. He guides my arm over his shoulders and holds me close. "I've got you," he says in a comforting voice. "You're safe."

"Ruthie," I murmur as we fall in line behind the blue alien. "He called me Ruth. I'm not Ruth. I'm Ruthie." A name is a small matter in the scheme of things, but it's all I've got.

"Ruthie," the man holding me up murmurs. "I'll remember."

The fog in my brain continues to punish me, making my steps stagger even as knives press into my skull. I fight back a whimper of distress as we head up a ramp, because I don't know these strangers. I don't know if they're going to be kind or cruel. I've met with both kinds of aliens, and until you know what you're getting into, it's best to be quiet and unobtrusive.

I don't have cuffs on, though. It occurs to me that I should run away, but my feet are heavy and my brain feels like mush. Mush with knives in it. I squint when the light grows brighter and footsteps clang up the metal ramp.

Then we stop. Ahead of us, the cloaked blue alien dressed in all black pauses at the entrance to a spaceship, talking to someone. They hiss and whisper at each other, and then they're turning to look at me. The guy in black steps aside...

And then I see me.

I blink harder, confused. I've been fogged thanks to the drugs, but they've never made me hallucinate. I widen my eyes and lift a hand, trying to see if she's a mirror image, if she'll replicate my movements.

Instead, she takes a step backward, and the look on her face is pure panic.

"Ruth, sweetheart," the blue alien says to the mirror image. He cups her face. "It's going to be all right."

"I'm a clone," she says in a dazed voice, her gaze locked on my face. "Straik, I'm not me."

Clone? Is she a clone? Am I a clone? Wouldn't I know if I was a clone? I stare at her, confused. I'm still fogged, but she really does look just like me—a clean version of me with longer hair.

“Yes, you are," the blue alien—Straik—soothes her. "Nothing has changed, all right? You are exactly the same person you were thirty seconds ago."

His words don't work, though. She turns and runs, and Straik follows after her.

I'm left with the strangers around me and a splitting headache. In addition to the headache, panic starts to set in. Bad things happen to humans alone. It didn't take me long to figure that one out. Even though being owned by someone is awful—worse than awful—running away means running from the frying pan into the fire. Anyone that sees a human alone will think we're fair game. I'd be sold again (or worse) before my headache disappeared.

I pull away from the man holding me up, biting back a whimper. I'm alone and vulnerable, and I don't know these men. I don't like how they're staring at me, like I'm something they've never seen before.

"It's all right, Ruthie. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you." The guy at my side speaks again, this time in a firmer voice. "You're joining us on the ship, all right? We're going to take care of you."

"That's what they all say," I mumble, wincing as something lights up nearby and fresh pain stabs through the back of my skull.

A callused, gentle hand touches my chin. "Look at me, Ruthie," he says. "Open your eyes."

"Hurts," I mutter, squinting up at him. "Lights hurt."

"Did they give you something?" a second voice asks. New hands touch my wrist, feeling my pulse. "Languid. Let me look at her eyes."

Then my eye is pried open and that sends another sharp knife through my skull along with a blast of painfully bright light. This time, I can't bite back the whimper that escapes.

I'm immediately released, and the male at my side surges in front of me. "Don't you keffing touch her!"

"Calm down, Kazex." The other voice is surprised. I really should open my eyes to look, but Kazex—the friendly one—reaches behind him and pulls me against his back. I don't need any more encouragement than that. I lean against him, my cheek pressed to his spine, my weight relaxing against his. I cling to his waist, because he doesn't want anyone else touching me. Right now that makes him my new best friend.

"What's wrong with you, Kazex?" another person asks. "Sakkar's just trying to do his job. It's clear she's on something."

"You're scaring her," Kazex all but snarls. "He can check her out but later, when she's feeling better. Right now we need to take her inside the ship and get her somewhere she can feel safe."

"Like med-bay," says the one they called Sakkar.

"No. She's staying with me. I'm not letting anyone get near her."

That sounds fantastic to me. I hold tighter to Kazex's waist. He's not going to let anyone bother me...I hope.

"We're just trying to figure out what to do with her," says another.

The voices cascade over each other, arguing and talking and getting louder by the moment. My headache continues to build, but Kazex isn't moving. He's arguing with the others, still stiffly acting as a shield in front of me. They debate taking me to med-bay again, because Lord Straik will want to know my status. Lord Straik will want me cleaned up. Lord Straik will want me to have fresh clothes.

I don't want to do anything except collapse in a dark room by myself.

"It's settled, then," Kazex says, pulling away from me so quickly that I stumble forward. "I'm taking care of her since I'm the chief of security."

"I don't think it's settled at all," someone else mutters.

Hands catch me before I topple forward, and there's a collective shout of alarm. "Take her to med-bay," one insists again. "Her pupils are dilated and her pulse is sluggish. She needs attention. They probably dosed her with some sort of relaxing agent. We can purge it from her system and do a full work-up on her⁠—"

"No," Kazex says again, and god bless him for being so stubborn. "We're going to do what Ruthie wants. She's allowed to decide."

I squint my eyes open just a crack, enough for the light to stab at me again, painfully. "Dark room," I manage. "I need to sleep."

"You heard her. She can stay in my room." Kazex scoops me up into his arms and carries me forward.

I whimper again, because I don't like the thought of Kazex laying claim to me. Of anyone laying claim to me.

"It's all right," he says as he hauls me through the ship. His voice is pitched low and soft, his tone comforting. "I know you're scared, but I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You can settle in on my bunk and I'll guard the door. We'll turn out the lights and let you sleep things off, all right?"

I nod, pressing my face against his chest. "Why did that woman have my face?"

"That's what we're finding out," Kazex tells me, and he sounds so self-assured that I relax a little. I've been alone for so long, unable to trust anyone. Maybe it's foolish, but...I really want to trust him. I need to trust someone. I'm just so tired of being alone and afraid.

Maybe when this fog in my head clears, I'll be more afraid, but right now I just want to huddle against Kazex and let him handle all of my problems.

CHAPTER

TWO

KAZEX

The woman in my arms—Ruthie—is unconscious before I even make it to my quarters. My heart hammers with worry in my chest, but I tell myself that if there were true health issues, Sakkar would have noticed them already. She's just tired and hurting and needs to rest.

I hope. I don't want to do the wrong thing for her. She needs a champion and I knew the moment I saw her that I'd be hers.

Once inside the quarters I share with Dopekh, I shut the door behind me and switch off the lights. I know where my bunk is in the dark without having to stumble about despite the mess on Dopekh's side of the room. Gently, I lay Ruthie down in my bunk and tuck the blankets around her. I don't care that she's filthy or that her bare feet are getting dirt all over my bedding. She can wash later, when she's feeling better.

As I tuck the blankets around her, she stirs.

"It's dark," I say, keeping my voice soft so I don't hurt her head. "I'll make sure it stays quiet, too. You can rest here."

She licks her lips. "Water?"

"I'll get you some." I want to smooth her hair back from her face, but I don't dare touch her without an invitation. She doesn't belong to me. From this moment on she's her own person, no matter what her past was like.

I get a drink from the lavatory sink and bring it back to her. Her hands are shaking as I help her take small sips, and then she relaxes against my pillow, silent and wary.

"They drugged you?" I ask. "It's a common practice in the slave markets. Hurts the values of the merchandise if they're all screaming and hurting themselves trying to get away."

She's quiet for a moment and then says, "I didn't mind the drugs. It was better than the reality."

I know how that can be. Before I joined Lord Straik's crew, I worked in an asteroid mine. I saw some of the worst things in the universe. I know how bad people can be to each other. It's all the more reason why I need to keep Ruthie safe. "You'll be all right here with us, I promise. This ship is a good ship."

"Are you taking me back home to Earth?"

I go still. I hate the hope in her voice. She's dazed from the drugs so she doesn't realize— or maybe it hasn't sunk in that she's a clone. That she was never on Earth. That there's no “home” to go back to. "I won't lie to you, Ruthie. You're a clone, a created person just like me. There's no 'home' for us. We were created in a lab."

Her breath sucks in, but after a moment, she seems to accept this. "You're a clone, too?"

"See my red skin? It marks me as a clone." I keep my voice calm and steady. "I don't know why yours isn't red, but that's a question for someone else to answer. You're a clone to Lord Straik's mate, but it doesn't mean that you're the same person. You just look alike. Can I have your hand? Just for a moment?"

She offers it to me, palm up.

I take her small hand in mine and kef me, my heart aches with emotion. My female. My Ruthie. I'll murder anyone that ever tries to hurt her again. But I clamp all of this down, because now is not the time. Instead, I put her fingers on the side of my face. "The a'ani are a race of people that died out long ago. The ones you see here on the ship were cloned. Those of us that come from the same lab look alike, but you can tell small differences if you look closely. The space of our eyes, or if someone has a crooked tooth. Here on the side of my face, I have a tattoo. It's a swirl with three branches under the eye, so you can always tell me apart from the others. My name is Kazex."

"Kazex." She tastes my name on her tongue, her fingers light and petting my skin. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

I don't want to spill my story out and scare her. But I don't want to lie, either. So I give her a watered-down version. "Because I had a friend, once, that I should have helped. I didn't, and I regret that. Because I know what it's like to wake up and see someone else wearing the same face as you, and how confusing it can be. I know what it's like when you're alone, and I want you to know that you have a friend right here."

"Thank you," she says softly, and drops her hand to the bed. "I'm really tired. Is it...safe to sleep?"

"No one will attack you," I vow to her. "I'll guard the door."

Her mouth lifts up into a smile that I can see even in the darkness, and my heart aches again. I watch her with avid eyes, waiting for another word, another question, but when her breathing evens out, I realize that she's fallen asleep. She's trusting me, and it feels like a gift. I stay a few moments longer, then quietly get to my feet and leave the room, my mind swirling with thoughts of Ruthie and her needs. She'll want a shower when she wakes up. Clean clothes. Probably something to eat⁠—

"There you are," Dopekh says, striding down the hall towards our room. "I was wondering if you were going to hide away all day!"

His voice is booming and I inwardly wince. Dopekh is a good man, but subtle, he is not. He heads for the door to our quarters and I move in front of it, blocking him. "She's asleep."

He frowns at me, taking a step back. "I just want to grab a new tunic⁠—"

"Later. She's asleep."

"So you're just going to stand out here all day?" When I nod, he makes a face. "Where am I supposed to sleep, then?"

"There are couches in the rec room." I don't budge. "I promised her I'd guard her and I mean it."

"I'm not going to do anything⁠—"

"She doesn't know that," I explain to him. "I won't have her scared for anything. You'll just have to borrow a tunic from someone. And keep your voice down. She's sleeping."

He crosses his arms over his chest. "What are you going to do if the captain shows up and wants to talk to her? You going to turn him away?"

I consider this for a moment. The answer is clear to me. "Yes."

Dopekh snorts, then throws his hands up. "Fine. Whatever. Standing guard isn't going to win you points with her, though. She's not even going to know that you're out here."

"Doesn't matter," I say, and I mean it. There's a fragility to Ruthie that Ruth, Straik's mate, doesn't have. Ruth is clever and sly. She attacks first, and she's unafraid of anything sent her way. It's an admirable quality and I can see why Lord Straik is so besotted with her. Ruthie looks just like her, but as another clone, I know just how different we can be from one another. There's a breakable quality to Ruthie, as if she's on the verge of shattering. It makes me want to protect her. Whatever she needs, I want to give it to her.

And I will. I don't care if she notices or not. All that matters is that she's safe and that hunted look disappears from her gaze.

It doesn't take long for word to travel around the ship that I'm guarding Ruthie. One by one, my crew brothers drop by to see for themselves, but Erzah also brings a tray of food. I shouldn't be surprised—of all of us, he's the one that thinks with his stomach. He grins at me, indicating the bowls of noodles and the carafe of tea on the tray. "Thought you might be hungry...and that our guest might be, too."

I nod. "You can leave it and I'll make sure she gets it."

If he's annoyed by my control of the situation, he doesn't say so. Erzah just activates the legs on the tray and sets it down next to me. "I left everything in warming bowls, so it can sit for a while. I also brought a couple of those crunchy sweet things that Ruth likes. Figured our new Ruth might like them, too."

"Her name is Ruthie," I correct him. "She said we should call her that."

He nods. "You think the captain will let her stay? He's been holed up in his quarters with Ruth all afternoon. Dopekh's sulking on the bridge. Says you kicked him out."

"I did." And the captain had better let Ruthie stay. If he decides to abandon her...I'll follow. I don't think he will—Lord Straik is nothing but kind and fair—but he can be unpredictable when it comes to Ruth. If he decides that having Ruthie here is too upsetting for Ruth, then I'll leave with her. I like serving on Straik's ship. It's an excellent ship and he's given us our freedom, and he pays us a more than fair salary. But I can't abandon Ruthie. I won't. "Thanks for the food."

Erzah nods. "Just comm me if you need anything. I won't even ask to go in and stare at her." He grins. "Anyone can see you've already laid claim."

My ears grow hot even as he walks away. "She doesn't belong to me," I call after him. "She doesn't belong to anyone."

A small, secret part of me likes that Ruthie could be thought of as mine, though.

CHAPTER

THREE

RUTHIE

I wake up in the darkness with no idea of where I am. There's a soft pillow under my cheek, though, and I have a blanket. Already I know I'm no longer in the slave pens. I'm somewhere different, and although the thought makes me a little anxious, I'm cautiously optimistic. I don't know how long I've slept, but no one disturbed me while I did. No one pulled on my hair or touched my face. No one tried to grab me or shove me into a cage with a bunch of other human slaves. For the first time in what feels like months on end, I haven't slept curled up on a cold bare floor.

Maybe...maybe I've been saved after all.

I shove the thought out of my head. Hope is dangerous. Hope gets me nowhere but crushed all over again. Likely this is just a new, tricky danger that I haven't figured out yet. Cautious, I sit up and tilt my head back and forth, testing my headache. There's a little that lingers, but the worst of the drugs seem to be out of my system, along with the hangover. My mouth is a desert, though, and I have to pee.

The floor is cold under my bare feet, but clean enough that I notice the gritty dirt on my soles. I stand and search for a light source, but there's no wall switch. If there is, I can't find it. I run my hands along the wall, wondering if this is another sort of prison—just one with a bed—and the panic starts to rise again.

I trip over something heavy and leathery and stumble into a wall, a little yelp escaping me. Shit.

The wall across from me immediately slides open, and light floods into the room from the hallway. A large form blocks the doorway, hand on the doorjamb. "Ruthie?"

A moment later, the lights flare on in the room. I blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the light, my face scrunched up even as I take a step back.

"You're all right," he says, lifting a hand in the air. Then, he points at his face. "It's me, Kazex. Remember?"

My eyes adjust to the brightness and then I can see his face, really see it. He's not the handsomest man I've ever seen. His features are plain and strong, with a large nose and heavy brows. But his eyes are kind and spaced widely apart, giving him an appealing look. He smiles, and his face lights up, and I automatically smile back at him.

He points at the tattoo on his face. "Remember?"

I nod, licking my lips. I hug my arms to my chest, feeling vulnerable as I look around the room. It's a bedroom, with two beds set on opposite walls. One side of the room is a total disaster, and I apparently tripped over a huge boot in my wandering. The bed I just left is on the neater half of the room...and has a huge grimy spot in it from where I was lying. Oh no. I hope he doesn't notice that. "Um...bathroom?"

Kazex points at the wall opposite the door he stands in. "Over there."

I take a few hesitant steps toward it, not entirely sure if he's going to follow me in or not. He's hovered over me since I arrived...I think. My brain is kind of foggy but the few memories that drift to the surface have Kazex in them. Kazex carrying me here. Kazex letting me lean against his back. Kazex standing in front of me, protecting me from the others around us. Kazex bringing my hand to his face.

That stupid bubble of hope rises to the surface again.

I make use of the lavatory and wash my hands, dismayed at how clean they look compared to the rest of me. A quick look in the mirror shows my face, my eyes hollow and my cheekbones prominent, my hair filthy and my skin several shades darker than its normal beige due to all the dirt. I grab a disposable towel atop the sink, wet it, and start scrubbing at my exposed skin. I only have a filthy slave shift to wear, and I might get beaten for wasting water, but I don't care. It'll be worth it to get some of this grime off my skin.

It's several minutes before I emerge from the bathroom, and I inwardly tense, expecting Kazex to chastise me for wasting water or taking too long. Instead, when I return to the room, the bed is stripped and he's smoothing fresh blankets over it. He looks up when I reappear, his eyes brightening again. "Feel better?"

"I'm...sorry about your bed," I say in a near whisper.

He shrugs as if it's nothing. "Bedding can be cleaned. It's your bed, now. I don't need it." He finishes smoothing the fresh blanket over the thin mattress and then picks up a plas-wrapped bundle he had on the end of the bed. "This is a crew uniform. It's probably too big to fit you but you can borrow it until we get you clothes of your own."

He holds it out to me and I take it, clutching it to my chest.

"Hungry?" Kazex immediately darts to the doorway and gestures at a tray there. "Erzah brought us food. He knew I wasn't leaving you alone. If you're not hungry, that's fine, too. You don't have to eat if you don't want to."

The words race out of him as if he's excited and breathless. Like he's thrilled to feed me somehow. It makes me relax a little bit, and I sit on the very edge of the freshly-made bed. "I could eat."

It's the right thing to say. Kazex practically beams with delight and carries the tray in, thumping his boot against the door so it'll slide shut behind him. He sets the tray down in front of me and crouches a short distance away, watching me closely.

There are a bunch of little pots and covered bowls, and I recognize none of them. I’m suddenly frozen by indecision. I can’t choose one. He clearly expects me to but the thought of reaching for the wrong thing paralyzes me. I tentatively reach a hand out for one, only to draw back again. What if I pick wrong and I disappoint him? He’s being so nice.

“It’s all right,” he says in a cheerful voice. “Sakkar—that’s our medic—says that those newly freed from slavery sometimes suffer from post-traumatic stress. It happens a lot. With some people, it makes you afraid to make decisions. You want me to pick for you?”

I’m relieved, all of the terror bleeding out. Maybe that’s what it is. It’s just PTSD that’s causing me to freeze up with anxiety. I nod.

He nudges a plate with crunchy-looking cracker-like things toward me. “Try these.”

I hesitantly pick one up and take a bite. It's cloyingly, disgustingly sweet, and my stomach turns. I immediately put it back down on the tray, trying to hide my revulsion.

His face falls, and I tense up, worried I've offended him. "Sorry."

"Does it taste bad?"

"Too sweet," I say, wrinkling my nose.

Kazex nods. "If they had you on sedatives, it can affect how things taste for a while. Try the noodles. They're not sweet." When I hesitate again, he picks up one bowl and pulls the lid off. "This one has bits of pickled veg in it."

It looks a lot like ramen, and I'm suddenly so hungry that I grab a fistful of the noodles and hungrily devour them, slurping noodles and then licking my hand clean of the juices.

"Eating...sticks..." Kazex says after a moment, holding something else out to me.

Oh. Embarrassed heat flushes my face. "Sorry."

"Never apologize to me, Ruthie. I've been where you are. I understand. Did they not feed you much? Or was food a bargaining tool? When I was a slave, we were given a gruel that sat out all day. It was hot and bugs landed in it, and if we wanted to eat something better, we had to double the amount of ore we pulled from the mines. I remember I always fought hard to get that better meal." His mouth quirks a little on one side. "Not that it was much of an improvement, but there were no bugs."

I give him a shy smile, taking the sticks from him. Maybe he gets it, then. "We were thrown protein bricks. Everyone fought over them and there was never enough to go around." Even now, I can taste the cloying sweetness of one of the bricks in the back of my mouth and my stomach turns. "You were a slave, too?"

"My entire race is created to be slaves." He says it matter-of-fact, like today is Tuesday. "Business owners that need cheap labor put in an order for a batch of a'ani, and we are cloned and shipped out. I'm lucky that Lord Straik found me and hired me here instead, or else I'd still be in an asteroid mine."

I'm shocked at what I'm hearing. I know I'm in space but...asteroid mines? Entire cloned races? While it explains why that other woman has my face, I feel more out of my depth than ever. "I thought I had been taken from Earth," I admit in a small voice. "I didn't realize I was...a clone."

"You might not be. You might be the original. Any scars or tattoos? Markings? Something that would denote that you weren't grown in a lab?"

I try to think, running my hands over my arms and legs, and eventually I shake my head. I should be more terrified, but more things feel as if they're clicking into place. "I don't know. I don't think I have much in the way of memories, either. I thought things would clear up once the drugs were gone but..."

He nods as if he understands exactly what I mean. "You're fine until you reach for something that isn't there. A'ani get that sometimes when they first leave the labs. It fades when you start making your own memories."

My own memories. Because the ones I keep reaching for don't belong to me. They probably belong to the startled woman who has the same face. Oh god. I hug my knees to my chest, no longer hungry. It had been easy to ignore the patchwork memories when the slavers kept me full of medication. I could explain away the disjointedness as the impact of the drugs on my memory. I knew I wasn't from here. Knew that I'd somehow been stolen from Earth. But so much of it was just fog and a feeling that something wasn't quite right. "Where is she? The other woman?"

"Ruth? She'll probably come and talk to you later." His friendly expression fades. "She's not...happy about things. Her husband's been comforting her."

Well, that makes two of us “not happy about things.” I just feel worse about everything, though, and my shoulders slump. I'm the intruder. She lives on this ship. She has a husband. She's the one that belongs, not me. "Am I ruining her life?"

"You're ruining no one's life," he reassures me. "Being a clone isn't something dreadful or to be feared. I'm a clone. The rest of the crew are clones. It's just...who you are. You'll settle into your skin soon enough. Until then, I'm happy to stay by your side and help out." Kazex gestures at the tray of food. "Now come on, eat. A full belly helps a lot of things."

I pick up the bowl of noodles again, and when he smiles at me, I offer a tentative smile back. "Why are you being so nice?"

Kazex's smile grows broader, and it really is a wonderful smile. His entire face lights up and his eyes are so kind. When he's smiling like this, I like to look at him. "Do you want the real truth or do you want the polite version?"

"I want the real truth. Don't sugar-coat anything for me." I swirl noodles around the end of one of the strange, not-quite-chopsticks utensils and deliver the wad of food to my mouth.

"It's because I'm in love with you."

I nearly choke on the noodles, pressing the back of my hand to my mouth to keep everything inside as I cough. "W-what?"

"I'm in love with you," Kazex says. "The moment I saw you, I knew." He puts a hand in the air at my panicked look. "You don't have to love me back. I know it's sudden. I'm just telling you the truth of how I feel. I'm helping you because I can't walk away. Because I love you and you need someone. I want to be that someone.”

I manage to chew the noodles and swallow the mouthful, then swipe at my mouth. "I-I don't know what to say. I'm not—I don't even know who I am⁠—"

"It's all right. You don't have to say anything." Kazex's smile is unbothered. He points one of the eating sticks at a pile of greens. "Those are pickled, by the way. You might like them. The white ones are very spicy."

"I..."

He notices my hesitation. "You told me not to sweeten my words, so I didn't. I told you the truth even though I know it seems strange. I don't require anything of you, Ruthie. I can wait. I know everything is strange for you right now. I just want you to know that I'm here for you. And if you ever want more, you know where to find me."

"And...if I don't want more? Ever?" How can I even think about falling in love with anyone right now? Kazex is being really nice, but we just met. He cannot possibly be truly in love with me.

"If you never want more, then we remain friends." Kazex shrugs, unbothered. "It does not change how I feel about you. I am just putting it out there so you know. You asked why I'm helping, and I am telling you. I want to be your friend, but I also want to be more. If all you want is a friend, then that's all we are. Now...pickles?"

I hesitate.

"I'm not going to push you, Ruthie. I'm just going to be here for you. I promise."

Here for me. Someone I can count on and rely on. Someone that cares for me and will have my back. "I think I'd really like that."

CHAPTER

FOUR

NOW

KAZEX

“I’m going to run a cantina here on Risda,” Erzah announces at the nightly sticks game on the Scarlet Gaze. We're in our usual seats around the large round table in the center of the rec area. There's a gladiator fight playing on the comm, but no one's watching it. We've had a few brews and Zaemen puffed on a carcinogel. Everyone's feeling loose and relaxed, if a little bored.

Hard not to be when the Gaze has been docked on quaint, quiet Risda III for the last few months. Not surprising to me that Erzah has decided he's got a new idea in his head instead of just being crew.

“I thought that was Aithar and Dopekh’s idea,” I say, studying the sticks I have in my hand. They talked about opening a cantina on Risda for a few weeks and then got quiet about it. I assumed that after the human female, Amber, declined Aithar’s attentions, he lost interest in this planet. Now Erzah wishes to run a cantina?

“I won the idea from Aithar and Dopekh in a sticks game. They let me have it.” Erzah’s eyes gleam with enthusiasm and he seems truly excited about the prospect. “It’s my dream now.”

“That’s not how dreams work,” Zaemen points out, clicking his carcinogel to turn it off and setting it aside. “Also I have nothing for this hand.”

“They didn’t want to be in charge,” Erzah says. “I do. So now it’s my dream.”

"Everyone's got a dream," Jerzec teases, adding another credit to his bid. He gives Erzah a sly look. "Dopekh dreams of nailing Salvotor."

"Shut up," Dopekh says, scowling at Jerzec.

"I'm serious—" Erzah continues.

"So am I," Jerzec butts in, grinning. "You don't know how many times I've caught those two⁠—"

Dopekh gets up from the table, tossing his sticks down.

"Was it something I said?" Jerzec asks, all wide eyes.

I nod. "Yes."

Aithar winces. "Yup."

Zaemen snorts. "Yeah."

"Damn. I guess I'll talk to him later." Jerzec grimaces. "Didn't mean to be a keffing ass."

"He's kinda sensitive about the whole Salvotor thing," Aithar says, and then it gets quiet. All eyes turn to me, and I pretend to study the layout of the sticks on the board very carefully.

I know exactly what they're thinking. They're all thinking that things went sour with Salvotor and Dopekh quickly after the flirtation, and now both are complaining of what Ruthie calls “blue balls” even though they are not mesakkah. They're thinking that it's the same situation as me and Ruthie. But they couldn't be more wrong. I've let Ruthie know that I'm interested since day one. I've made it clear to her that she's everything to me. That I would lay down my life for her. That every other female in the universe ceased to exist the moment her big, dark eyes met mine.

Dopekh and Salvotor are having a hard time figuring out exactly what they are. That's what causes the fights between them. Me? I've always known exactly who and what I am.

I'm Ruthie's.

It's Ruthie that's deciding things between us, and she's not ready for a relationship. So I'm going to sit here and quietly wait for her to notice me, because that's all I can do.

And in the meantime, I can play sticks with the rest of the crew and try not to think about how badly I want to touch Ruthie, or how I dreamed about her last night, or how often I jerk my cock just thinking about her soft scent and sweet laughter. Sometimes I think it'd be easier to go back to the days before I was on the Scarlet Gaze and serving Lord Straik, when I lived in a drugged haze and had no desires for anything beyond a clear head. Now the suppressants are out of my system and I have all these feelings bubbling to the surface. All these needs.

All of them are centered around Ruthie.

She's been avoiding me for the last few weeks. Ever since Ruth-Ann arrived and changed things. I understand it. Ruthie's had a hard go of things and it was jarring and upsetting for her when she realized she and Ruth were clones. Then Ruth-Ann shows up with the same face and it throws things into chaos once more. It's easier for me. I've always known I was a clone. The a'ani are grown in labs and treated little better than tools. We're not valued as people, just as bodies that can be strategically placed on a battlefield, or in a mine, or on a ship.

But Ruthie thought she was an original.

Ever since Ruth-Ann arrived, the three women have been spending their time together. When Ruthie's not with them, she's doing her lessons on the bridge with Aithar. She wants to learn a craft and be useful. I get it.

It just feels like she's avoiding me right now. Like I'm a problem she doesn't want to solve and so she's just distancing herself. I keffing hate it, even as I understand it. I miss her terribly. She should be playing sticks with us right now. She should be sitting next to me and laughing, slugging back a brew with the rest of us. She should be grinning at me from over her pile of credits, or shoving her nearly-empty brew towards me so I can finish off the foam, my favorite part. 

But she's avoiding us—me especially—and I feel the ache of it deep in my spirit. I'm trying to be patient. I want her to have as much time as she needs, and I'm not going anywhere. Kef me, though. Waiting is hard⁠—

Zaemen knocks on the table in front of me, scowling. "Are you in or are you going to keep moping?"

I blink, straightening. "Sorry. Wasn't paying attention."

"Obviously," Jerzec says, and then flutters his eyes at me, making a goofy face. "Oh, look, I'm Ruthie. I need a big strong a'ani to come and help me get out of these constricting clothes⁠—"

Getting to my feet, I toss my sticks down and launch myself at him, grabbing him in a headlock. "You're far too ugly to be Ruthie, dipshit."

Jerzec gives a choked laugh and then tries to grapple me, and we topple onto the table, wrestling.

"I guess they're done playing," Aithar says, morose. "Keffing hell, and I was up twenty credits, too."

CHAPTER

FIVE

RUTHIE

"You sure you want another?" Ruth asks me, wrinkling her nose. I'm seated in front of her in the lavatory, on one of the benches in front of the showers. Across from us, Ruth-Ann sits atop the counter, swinging her legs and watching with interest.

"I'm sure." I gesture for her to continue, my head tilted to the side. "Get on with it."

Ruth makes a gagging noise in her throat but holds my ear in place with her fingers. I feel the cool grip of the piercing gun a moment before it punches through the tough cartilage at the top of my ear and then releases. I hold up a hand mirror, pleased at the small metallic hoop that now adorns the top of my ear. Below it are ten other piercings along the shell of my ear down to the lobe, and I've got a tragus piercing, too. On my face I've got two brow rings on one side, and a spiderbite on the other side. I've got a small hoop in my nose and one in the center of my lower lip. I've gotten them all in the space of the last few months, when I received my freedom from being a slave...since I have the same face as Ruth.

And now, Ruth-Ann.

Maybe it's a weird bit of rebellion, or me reclaiming a face that no longer feels like mine. Whatever it is, my sister-clones don't share the same need for decoration. Ruth-Ann has a smooth bob of shoulder-length hair, and Ruth has very long, glossy hair with a few strands cut to frame her face. Neither one is into piercings like me.

Ruth shudders and sets the piercing gun down. "Shit, that gives me the willies every time. Ruth-Ann has to do it next time. Those are the rules."

"Next I want a tattoo," I tell them, admiring my newest piercing in the mirror again. "So you guys can decide which one of you wants to do that for me."

"Not me," Ruth calls again. She puts her hands in the air and leans against the lavatory counter next to Ruth-Ann. "Pukey stomach, what with the baby and all."

Ruth-Ann just gives her a small, amused smile and continues to swing her legs. "You only get pukey when you're stressed."

"You think drawing on someone with needles won't make me stressed? You are sadly mistaken," Ruth retorts. "Maybe you skip harassing your sisters with your body modifications and get Kazex to help you out."

My heart flutters at the name, and I carefully glance over at Ruth-Ann to see if her expression changes.

Ruth-Ann's arrival has turned my life upside down all over again. Just when Ruth and I were getting used to being “sisters” and sharing the same face, along comes Ruth-Ann and the realization that there's more clones of us out in the universe. It's not Ruth-Ann's fault, of course. I don't resent her. But I've noticed patterns in the way Ruth thinks that match up with mine, and I've been watching Ruth-Ann to see if those same patterns emerge.

I've noticed Ruth is a sucker for a luxurious soak. Me too. There's nothing I like better than getting clean, and I love a floral soap. I've noticed that Ruth has very different taste buds than I do, but we're both addicted to the coffee equivalent called “night tea.” We both gravitate towards black clothing and prefer to use a stabbing weapon in weapons training than a shooting one. We're both wigged out by heights and deep purple foods. We both get sleepy after dinner and talk in our sleep. There are differences, of course, but there's a lot of similarities. Enough to make me pause.

Ruth is very heavily and preciously in love with Lord Straik, a mesakkah nobleman turned pirate. And while I'm happy for her and wouldn't mess things up, I can see the appeal. He's utterly devoted to her, and when she walks in the room, there's no other person that exists for him. He's tall and brooding and a loner, and exactly the kind of guy that I would have gone for as a teenager...or well, the original Ruth would have gone for as a teenager. It's because I can see so clearly why she loves him that it makes me wary.

Are the things that I feel me or are they the original Ruth?

It's complicated, and it's one reason why I've withdrawn from my friendship with Kazex.

I'm utterly addicted to him...and I don't know what Ruth-Ann's presence means for that. If I were more confident, I'd say tough nuts to my newest sister-clone and tell her that he's mine. That he's been at my side since I arrived, quietly offering support and affection.

But I don't know if the part of me that adores him is the part that's me me or if it's the cloned part of me. And what if Ruth-Ann loves him, too? Does that make my feelings real or are they just leftovers from someone else's personality?

It's all confusing and hurtful. I don't know how much is me and how much is cloned, so I've withdrawn. I've stopped spending my downtime with the crew and hanging out with them. I've stopped having lunches with Kazex and finding excuses to run into him. I've stopped with the weapons training he was giving me. I've stopped crawling into his bed at night—not for sex, just for companionship and comfort.

Kazex was the one that gave me first piercing, too. He's got steady, sure hands and it was a good excuse to have him touch me with no strings attached. But since Ruth-Ann arrived, I've skipped tattoos and gone for piercings instead, because I still feel the desperate need to carve myself out, to no longer fit the mold. To be unique in some small way.

I rake my hand through my shorn hair, rubbing the shaved sides and thinking. "Kazex is busy," I tell the others. "I don't want to bother him."

"We both know it's not a bother when it's coming from you," Ruth jokes.

My smile at her words is half-hearted. Ruth-Ann says nothing, simply watching the two of us.

I eat dinner with my sisters in Ruth's quarters. Straik is there with us, and I poke at my noodles as he and Ruth bicker about the weather (of all things) and Ruth-Ann watches them. She's quiet, Ruth-Ann, and I find myself wondering if that's a “her” thing or a Ruth-Original thing. It all makes my head hurt.

"You okay?" Ruth asks, kicking me under the table in a pause between her squabbling with Straik over whether a cloudy day on Risda III can still be considered “beautiful weather” or not. "You've been really quiet."

"What?" I protest, sitting up and frowning. "Why is me being quiet a problem? Ruth-Ann's quiet all the time."

"I'm not quiet," Ruth-Ann says simply, twirling her noodles around her eating sticks. "I'm plotting."

Ruth laughs at that and then nudges me with her foot. "You just haven't been yourself lately."

"Maybe I'm busy being Ruth-Ann," I reply cattily, and then feel like a jerk when Ruth-Ann gives me a curious look. "Sorry. I'm just in a weird place."

"Has the crew been bothering you?" Straik asks, a dark frown on his face. "Do I need to speak to them? If they're pressuring you over anything I want to know about it."

His crew? I give him a strange look. With the exception of Kazex, they all treat me like I'm their little sister. I'm more in danger of being pantsed than harassed. "They're fine. Like I said, I'm just in a weird place. It's nothing no one has done. It's just me."

"Maybe we need to get out and see the sights?" Ruth-Ann volunteers. "Everyone talks about what a lovely planet it is."

"Eh." Ruth isn't impressed with Risda. "While it's cool to see all the humans around, the town kind of bores me. Remember the place with the pink beaches? And the coral trees? Now that was cool." She puts her hand on Straik's arm and strokes his skin with her thumb. "Maybe after the baby's born we'll go back."

"I will buy you an island there," he vows, his dark eyes full of adoration. "Three of them. One for each of your sisters and the biggest for you."

She smiles at him, saying nothing, and the air suddenly feels charged. Ruth keeps rubbing him with her thumb, and Ruth-Ann and I exchange a look. We know where this is most likely heading, and it's time to exit.

"I'm going to go rinse my dishes," I say, getting to my feet.

"I'll join you," Ruth-Ann adds.

Ruth and Straik don't say anything. They're lost in their own little world already, and when I hear the scrape of a chair being moved closer, I'm not surprised. Ruth-Ann and I leave their quarters, and I make sure the door glides shut behind us, and I tap the button to flag them as requesting privacy.

When I turn around, though, Ruth-Ann hasn't disappeared down the hall. She remains in place, studying me with an inscrutable expression. "Is everything all right?" she asks. "Is it me that's bothering you?"

Guilt fills me. It's not Ruth-Ann's fault my head is a mess. It's not her fault I can't tell which emotions are mine and which ones are remnants. She's not the enemy. She's just as much a victim of things as I am. "It's not you," I answer honestly. "I'm just having trouble wrapping my brain around some things. It's nothing that time won't fix."

"If you want to talk, I'm here," she says in that steady voice of hers. Her calm, assertive tone is so different from Ruth, who is all emotion, all the time.

Her quiet offer just makes me feel worse. "Thank you, but I'm good."

I'm not good, though.

I toss and turn in my bunk for hours, unable to sleep. Across from me, Ruth-Ann sleeps peacefully, and that just makes things more annoying. Before she arrived, Kazex had me in his quarters and he slept just outside the door, guarding me. Now that she's here, we're sharing a room and Kaz is with Erzah. It's not Ruth-Ann’s fault, but I'd rather be with Kazex. With him, I felt safe and protected. Maybe that's the problem. I'm safe here on the ship, I know I am. But I feel unsettled. Uneasy.

I miss him and his calm, reassuring presence. I adjust my pillow against my tender, newly-pierced ear and close my eyes, imagining Kazex and his easy smile...

I'm underwater. I can't breathe. My lungs are full of liquid, and yet I want nothing more than to take a breath of air. I try to push myself up and break the surface, but I can't. I'm...in a tube. A cloning tube. I press my face to the glass inches from my face and stare out at a lab full of more tubes, all of them full of people with the same face as me. I want to scream, but I'm drowning⁠—

I jerk awake with a gasp.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

It was a dream. Just a dream. I shudder, pressing a hand to my forehead, only to find that I'm covered in a clammy sweat. Somehow the damp skin makes things worse, as if I really was in a tube just now. I grab the edge of my blanket and scrub at my exposed skin, shivering.

"You okay?"

It's Ruth-Ann. I've woken her from sleep. She props up on her elbows, squinting at me in the low light of the darkened quarters.

I nod, rubbing my arms. "Bad dream. I'm going to go get something to eat. Don't wait up."

Before she can respond, I hop out of bed and hit the door to our quarters, opening it. I slip out and down the hall, dimly aware that I'm in nothing but a pair of panties and a short-hemmed sleeveless tunic made for sleeping in. My toes curl on the cold metal floor and I pad along the quiet hallway, heading for a familiar door. I'm not getting a drink, like I told Ruth-Ann.

I'm heading for my own personal comfort zone.

I knock on Kazex's door, even though it's super late at night. I'm probably going to wake up his roommate, Erzah, but I don't care. Erzah won't mind.

The door opens sooner than I expected. Huh. Kazex must not have been asleep. He's got a blanket wrapped around his hips and squints at me. "Everything all right?"

The sight of him is so reassuring I want to cry. Instead, I rake my hand through my shorn hair, the mohawk part of it sticking up, and try not to think about how I just want to bury my face against his broad, red chest and press my cheek to the tattoos on his pectorals. I shift on my feet, hesitating. Is this stupid? Am I stupid? I've been avoiding him for weeks now and suddenly one bad dream and⁠—

"Do you want to come in, Ruthie?"

His voice is like a caress, soft and gentle, and no judgment whatsoever.

I nod, a knot in my throat.

He steps aside and lets me in, and the darkness in his room somehow feels better, more comforting than the darkness in mine. The faint scent of his soap lingers as he brushes past me, kicking aside scattered laundry on the floor. As if I care about that. Erzah's bed is empty, the blankets neatly made and his things tidy.

"Where's Erzah?" I manage, crossing my arms under my breasts. "Is he going to be mad that I'm in here?"

"He's got bridge shift tonight, and I don't give a kef if he's mad or not. You need me." Kazex puts a hand on the base of my neck and gives me a gentle squeeze. "You want to talk about it?"

"Nightmare," I tell him. "I dreamed I was in a cloning tube and I couldn't get out."

"Yeah, that's rotten." He squeezes me with that big hand again. "Need to sleep in my bed?"

It's not a weird question. In the past, I slept in his bed while he slept just outside the door. It was our normal, and I always slept great like that. I knew Kazex was watching out for me, looking out for me. I knew no one would come after me while he was on guard, and it was lovely. But I'm no longer worried about someone breaking into my room and molesting me. Tonight, I'm more worried about closing my eyes and finding myself back in that tube again, staring at a million Ruth-Ann faces across the way. I don't want to be alone. "Can you sleep with me?" I blurt out. "Just for tonight?"

He pauses, but only for a moment. "Of course."

I climb onto the bed ahead of him, relieved that he's not going to make this difficult. That he's not going to quiz me about why I've been avoiding him for the last several weeks when I couldn't get enough of him before. I could cry at how happy I am that he's just going to let me sleep at his side, no questions asked.

Kazex waits to get into bed, slipping on a pair of trou underneath the blanket before he climbs in after me. He then gets in and spreads his blanket over both of us. There's room between us in the bed, and since I'm pushing all the boundaries tonight, I decide I don't like that space. I move closer to him, curling up against his chest and tucking my head against him. "Thank you. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"I wasn't sleeping." His arm settles around me.

"Why weren't you sleeping?"

He pats my back. "Just go to sleep, Ruthie."

Sleep sounds good. For the first time since I arrived, I feel settled and at peace. I close my eyes, content.

CHAPTER

SIX

KAZEX

Why weren't you sleeping?

As if I can tell the female of my dreams that I was very busy jerking off to her before she came in? I grit my teeth, doing my best to keep my hips as far away from Ruthie's curled form as possible while she tucks her head under my chin and snuggles against my chest. This would be the greatest moment of my life if my cock weren't throbbing and rock-hard.

It doesn't matter that I'm uncomfortable. Ruthie needs me, and I want to be here for her. The ache in my groin will go away soon enough...I hope.

I trail my fingers over her nape, unable to stop touching her. Ruthie's scent is light and delicate, just like her, and I'm just as besotted with her as I was the first day she arrived, all frightened eyes and terrified posture. She's not like Ruth, who wants to attack her way out of any bad situation. Ruthie's more gentle. Her spirit is more fragile...and I want nothing more than to be the protector she needs.

She shifts against me, and I stiffen, worried she's felt the protruding bulge between my thighs.

"Thank you," she says in a soft voice. "I'm glad you don't hate me."

Maybe I'm lucky and she hasn't noticed my erection yet. "I could never hate you. Never. I told you I'll always be your friend, Ruthie. I'm not going anywhere. If you're struggling to figure yourself out, take your time. I'll be right here."

She makes a sound of contentment and her hand slides against my side, settling in.

This is a gift, I decide. Having Ruthie curled up next to me, pressing against me as if she needs me? It is a gift. Reverently, I stroke her arm, noticing the delicate ear far too close to my lips. I want to kiss it, like I've seen Straik kiss Ruth, but I don't dare. "You got another piercing."

Ruthie's lips curl into a smile. "You noticed."

"I notice everything about you." My words are forward, but Ruthie knows how I feel. I've never hidden it. She knows she is everything in the universe to me.

Her eyes flutter open and she gazes up at me. "I just...felt like I needed one. Wanted to be a little more different than the others."

"I understand." Who better to understand her than one of the a'ani? We are clones, too, and though we have never doubted our origin, I know what it feels like to stare into a sea of faces just like mine and wonder who—and what—I am. "I like it."

She chuckles. "I could cut my ear off like Van Gogh and you'd like it."

"That seems like an extreme look. Maybe just decorate your ear instead of chopping it off." I run a finger along the delicate edge of her lobe. "It's too pretty to get rid of."

Ruthie shivers and gazes up at me.

My heart aches even as my body burns for her. I want to remember every moment of this. Of us being in bed together, with Ruthie's bare legs twined with mine. This is the most she's ever given me and I won't abuse her trust. In the past, everything between us has been small touches of hands, shared smiles or teasing jokes. I've given her the occasional hug when she looked like she needed one, but I've never pushed for more than she's willing to give.

Even if it takes Ruthie a hundred years to truly see me, I'll be here, waiting for a single smile from her. I know I don't stand out amongst my brethren. I'm not incredibly smart like Sakkar, our medic. I'm not outgoing like Erzah or always making jokes like Zaemen. But I hope Ruthie sees me. The real me. The devoted a'ani who would do anything for her.

See me, I silently demand. See me tonight, Ruthie. How I would keffing adore you with every breath I'd take if you'd just let me.

Her gaze drops, and so does my heart.

Not tonight, then.

"I appreciate you letting me sleep here," she says, voice delicate and soft and it makes me ache all over with yearning.

As if she needs to ask. "You're welcome in my bed at any time." Her head jerks up and I realize what I've said and quickly add, "But I should warn you I'm waking up early tomorrow."

"Oh?"

I desperately want to touch that delicate ear again but I don't want her to be bothered by my attentions, either. So I close my hand tightly and force myself to rest it on her hip. "We're going to town tomorrow. Erzah was telling me he thinks the town could use a second cantina and he wants me to go with him to give my opinions."

Ruthie looks at me in surprise. "He really wants to stay here? On this planet?"

"Is that so bad? I don't think Lord Straik will continue as he has in the future," I admit. I'm surprised she hasn't considered staying herself. This is the safest place in the galaxy for a human. "With his mate pregnant and the authorities looking closely at his mother, he and his mate will settle down somewhere quiet. We crew are just thinking ahead to our futures. Not everyone wants to serve on a ship forever."

"Of course not. I didn't mean for it to sound like that." Her fingers skim over my chest lightly, and I close my eyes with bliss at the small touch. "I just...I guess I feel like I'm still finding my footing, and it's hard to think of someone leaving our group. Risda's so quiet that it doesn't seem like a place that Erzah would choose to settle in."

I grin at that, on safer territory. Ruthie doesn't seem to realize that we all have different plans for what happens if Lord Straik retires. Dopekh wants to go to the nearest station and apply for a bounty hunting license. Zaemen dreams of his own ship. Me, I dream of whatever Ruthie wants to do. "Erzah has big ideas of running his own cantina. I like that for him."

"Risda, huh." She taps a finger on my chest, right over my quickly-beating heart. "I want to go with you tomorrow. Can I come with?"

"You...do?" Perhaps she sees me after all. Perhaps she wants to spend time with me. Perhaps⁠—

"I want to get a good look at the place," Ruthie continues, oblivious to my hopeful thoughts. "Form my opinion without my sisters in tow. You know, in case I decide to stay. Do you mind if I come?"

"Of course you can come." I am dying inside, but I manage to sound jovial.

Jovial unto death, that's me.

CHAPTER

SEVEN

RUTHIE

Sleeping in Kazex's bed is amazing. I wake up early, fully refreshed and completely aware of where I am. It's impossible not to be—his scent is everywhere, and if I so much as twitch, I run into a thick, muscled limb. Kazex is a bit of a sprawler, it seems. He's taking up most of the bed and almost all of the blankets. I've curled up under one arm, pressing myself against him, a small lump in the bed at his side.

My arm is around his waist and my breasts are pressed to his chest. I am extremely aware of this, holding myself still so as not to wake him and ruin the moment. If he knows I'm here, I'm obligated to pull away. But...I love pressing my breasts up against his hard, muscled form. It feels so good that I want to rub myself against him. My nipples are hardening and I'm so tempted to shift and scrape them against his skin just to revel in that delicious sensation.

But I've been ignoring him for weeks. I don't get to do that to him. It doesn't seem fair to him if I send mixed messages. Well...even more mixed than now with me half-naked and in his bed. I'm telling myself that this is just friendly. That he's being a good buddy to me.

Good buddies don't rub their aching nipples all over each other.

Reluctantly, I extricate myself from the bed, careful not to disturb him. He continues to sleep, oblivious to me crawling over him, and rolls onto his side, the blanket falling to the floor.

Okay, Kazex is a deep sleeper. That's kind of cute. I get out of bed and move to cover him with the blanket...and then pause.

He's mouth-wateringly beautiful. If Michelangelo's David had decided to sprawl in bed, he'd look a lot like Kazex does in this moment. Not entirely like David, though, I can't help but notice. He's got much bigger equipment than the renaissance masters ever gave their perfect statue forms. He's huge. I've never given much thought to Kazex's cock until this moment and now I can't stop staring. I mean, I knew he had a cock. But Kazex has a cock. The bulge of it pressing against his trou is intense, and my fingers itch to touch him. Just to see if it's all really part of him or if his pants are giving me the illusion that he's packing.

Because...damn.

I stare for a good long minute, blinking. He shifts in the bed, smacking his lips and scratching low on his belly before he reaches down and adjusts himself. I watch him handle himself and something hot and pleasurable clenches deep inside me.

I'm such a pervert, because I want him to keep touching himself...and I want to watch.

Biting my knuckle, I force myself to set down the blanket and walk away. Walk away, Ruthie, I chant to myself. If you want a show, all you have to do is ask. You know Kazex will give you one. I slip out of his room, heading for the showers, and contemplate returning to his rooms later and asking him to touch himself for my benefit.

But what if I pull him away from Ruth-Ann if I ask for him to jerk off for me? It feels unfair to him if I ask for sexual displays and then decide that the attraction I have for him isn't mine but the old Ruth's and I'm just feeling leftovers.

I hate this. I hate that my mind is such a mess. I wish I could just pounce on him and kiss him for hours. I wish I could straddle him and just ride his cock until we both came, but I know it would mean a lot to Kazex, and I don't want to break him.

He gave me his heart the very first day I stepped on this ship and I'm terrified of trampling it. He means too much to me for me to just use him. Kazex deserves the best, and until I can figure myself out, he's off limits.

Frustrated, I linger in the nice cold shower. Even that won't soothe my thoughts. It's not like I can masturbate in the shower. Everyone would know, because the a'ani have a keen sense of smell and the showers are set up like a gym shower. Even if I did have privacy and the other women on the ship weren't in there, I'd still feel weird leaving the scent of hot pussy behind in my wake.

I just need to think pure thoughts. Lots and lots of pure thoughts.

The moment I step under the shower spray, Ruth-Ann appears in the shower a few paces away and sets her towel on the bar. "There you are. Where'd you run off to?"

Ugh. I don't hate Ruth-Ann, but I hate that she's always around when my head is feeling the messiest. "Just needed some space. I hung out with Kazex."

She nods, turning on her shower. "You want to practice together today in the training room? I need to brush up on my footwork."

"Can't. I'm going down to Port with Kazex and Erzah." I'm glad for the excuse, too. Actually, I'm mostly glad to be spending the day with Kazex. Just being around him makes me happy. 

Instead of taking the hint, Ruth-Ann brightens. "Oh, I'll go with you guys! That'll be fun. I've been wanting to get out and stretch my legs anyhow."

Great. Now my day gets to be spent with Ruth-Ann tagging along. I manage a weak smile and try not to think dark thoughts. She's my clone. She's my sister. I can't hate her. She's my clone-sister.

But jeez, can't she read the damned room?

CHAPTER

EIGHT

KAZEX

When Ruthie turns up a short time later, she's wearing a black bodysuit that matches the crew bodysuits, and her short hair has been stiffened into what she calls a “mohawk.” It only emphasizes her dark eyes and delicate features, and I love that she is taking control of her appearance. The a'ani constantly tattoo themselves or get piercings or mess with their hair simply to differentiate themselves, so I understand trying to stand out in a sea of cloned faces.

Her smile is faint when she arrives, and I can immediately tell something's bothering her. When Ruth-Ann trails in after her, wearing her sleek hair in a short ponytail and a similar bodysuit, I can guess what it is. Something about Ruth-Ann's presence bothers my Ruthie far more than Lady Ruth, the other clone and Lord Straik's beloved wife. Is it that Ruth-Ann is the newest to arrive or is there something else at play that I'm unaware of?

If she'd just say something, I'd step in and take care of it. Tell Ruth-Ann she has to stay back for security reasons. As I'm the head of security on the ship, she wouldn't be able to complain about my orders.

"More company!" Erzah comments, oblivious to the mood. "Fantastic. We were just about to head out. You two ready?"

I wait for Ruthie to say something. To ask me to step in. To give me a look that tells me what she wants me to do.

I wait for her to need me. To rely on me.

But she only puts on a small smile and gives Erzah a blankly sweet expression. "Ready."

And I'm strangely disappointed. I shouldn't be surprised, but I am.

Ruth-Ann frowns as we walk down the street in Risda's one small settlement, uncreatively called “Port.” "I smell baking."

Ruthie pauses, her brows furrowing, and gazes at her sister. "Okaaaay."

"It's really bad baking." She looks disgusted. "Can't you smell that? The practically burned scent?"

"I...guess?" Ruthie shrugs. "Do you have baking memories?"

"You don't?" When Ruthie shakes her head, Ruth-Ann purses her lips and strides down the street, clearly annoyed.

Erzah puts his hands on his hips, glancing over at me where I stand next to Ruthie. "Well where's she going?"

"Probably to confront the baker," Ruthie replies. "Looks like she's a lot more like Ruth in temperament than we thought."

I huff with amusement, because confronting someone that's making something offensive-smelling is absolutely something that Lord Straik's wife would do. But my amusement quickly dies when I look over at Ruthie again. Her expression is distant and vaguely sad. She doesn't have the memories that Ruth-Ann does of baking, and this clearly bothers her. Oh no. I don't want her to feel like she's less than the other two, like she's somehow lacking in some way.

"So where is this building?" I call out loudly, turning in the opposite direction and shielding a hand to my eyes as if the sunlight is too much. It's all a distraction, designed to pull Ruthie's attention away from her sister. I pretend to admire the architecture of the rather plain, boxy buildings that line the street. "I rather like this place, don't you?"

"You think she's okay if she goes off by herself?" Ruthie asks, arms crossed over her chest. "Should we go after her?"

Hesitating, I glance over at Erzah and hope he gets the hint. I'm not going to leave Ruthie's side, especially not to chase after her sister. The streets here on Risda—both of them—seem nice and safe, but it's never a good idea to let a female human out of your sight for long.

Erzah simply squints at the line of buildings, oblivious. "It should be around here somewhere."

I clear my throat.

He turns and looks in the other direction, still searching for the building.

I clear my throat again.

"You okay?" Ruthie asks me.

"Just parched." I move to Erzah's side and clap a hand on his shoulder, because he's clearly not picking up my hints. "Why don't you go find Ruth-Ann, and Ruthie and I will locate this building, eh?"

And I squeeze his shoulder, hard.

He gives me a surprised look and then realization dawns on his face. "Oh. Right. Yeah. I'll go find Ruth-Ann. You two, uh, stay together. Be right back."

Erzah finally trots off and I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm alone with Ruthie, but she doesn't seem to want to look in my direction. If anything, she seems to be looking everywhere but at me. Is she upset over last night? Hating that we slept together?

Because I keffing loved it. Every last moment of it. I got to sleep with my female. I got to count her pretty piercings and stare at her while she slept. I got to breathe in her scent and feel her skin pressed up against mine. I got to share a blanket with her. It was the best keffing night of my entire life, followed closely by the first night I laid eyes upon her...and then probably followed by the moment I realized my cock worked again, after years of suppressants. Those two moments have been the best, but last night topped them all.

When I woke up this morning and she was gone, though, I figured she was feeling weird about it. Looking at her right now, with her desperately trying not to pay attention to me? It just confirms that she has regrets, and it's a depressing realization.

"Let's find this building for Erzah, shall we?"

"Let's," she agrees, turning to gaze down the street. Instead of walking, though, she eyes the buildings from where we stand. "What do you think of this place, Kazex?"

What do I think of it? Strange question to ask. I've been to remote mining outposts that had more activity than this place. Risda III has lovely weather, that's for certain, but there's a vague feeling of isolation here. The place is rather flat, with only a few trees and bushes dotting the otherwise rolling hills. If you're on the highest dock at the space port, you can see far off into the horizon, and nothing but farms and rolling hills meet your eyes. The farms are divided into tidy little field squares of crops, and some field-squares have animals grazing on them, but it's all very pastoral.

Very pastoral and very alien from every place I've ever lived. I'm used to crowded stations and recycled air and metal surrounding you on every side. But I guess I can see the appeal of this place if I'm Erzah.

For one, when I look down the street, there are human females everywhere. They stroll along the sidewalk. One pilots an air-sled around another couple of females that stand nearby, holding bags of goods and talking. We passed the general store a short time ago and it was full of females shopping and purchasing all kinds of things. Jerzec said he went to the cantina here and the only male to be seen was behind the counter.

To an a'ani still discovering the joy of his cock working again after years of suppressants? This is a wonderland. To me...I don't like it unless Ruthie does. "It's all right, I guess. Do you like it?"

"I should, shouldn't I?" But she continues to gaze around her with a look that might be confusion, might be frustration. "It seems like a nice quiet place."

Seems like a nice place isn't exactly a ringing endorsement. I'm a little surprised she doesn't like it more. Is it because it's quiet? Or because it's new and different and she's unsure of what to think about it? I know Ruth has some memories of Earth, but for the most part, Ruthie's memories are piecemeal and she doesn't have the same bits that Ruth does. Maybe this is unfamiliar to her. Maybe she doesn't know what to make of a place with so many human females after being on the Scarlet Gaze with us for so long.

We continue to stroll down the walkway in relative silence. Ruthie's quiet, at least, and I'm just watching Ruthie. There are other women around, and I compare my Ruthie to them to see how she'd fit in if we decided to base our operations here. She doesn't quite match up with these other women, I realize. There's a hard shell to my Ruthie, a brittle sort of shield she carries around her that she's constantly trying to reinforce. She keeps her shoulders back, her head up and defiant, whereas a lot of the women here are avoiding eye contact or hurrying away from us. Ruthie all but glares at her surroundings.

"Down there," she says, crossing the street and jogging toward the buildings there. 

I stay at her side, my focus still entirely on her. I know Ruthie is soft and sweet and gentle, but she's determined not to let the rest of the universe realize that. She⁠—

I crash into something soft. 

A woman cries out. "Oh!"

Horrified, I put my arms out to grab the female I've run into before she can fall to the ground. I manage to catch her, but a half-dozen packages spill to our feet. The stranger clings to me, blinking her pale blue eyes in my direction.

"My goodness, look at you." The human female studies my face and then breaks into a large smile. "My hero."

I grin at her flirty tone, relieved that she's not hurt, nor is she screaming in terror. I help the stranger back to her feet, dusting off her shoulders. "My fault. I wasn't watching where I was going."

"No, my fault," she says. "I was trying to save time by making only one trip with my packages. I had too much in my arms, and they can't carry nearly as much as your big strong ones can." And she gives me a blatant smile. "I'm Gia."

"Gia, I'm Kazex." I give her a little bow of acknowledgement, amused by the way she's devouring me with her eyes. Gia is very forward—no brittle shell here. "And I'd be happy to help you carry things back to your sled." I turn to Ruthie, who stands by in silence. "Give me just a moment."

Ruthie waves a hand at me, her expression bland. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

I scoop up Gia's packages and stack them in my arms. "Show me the way and I'll get you taken care of."

"My Prince Charming," she all but purrs and then points at a distant air-sled. "I'm over there."

CHAPTER

NINE

RUTHIE

I keep my expression benign as I lean against one of the shops on Port's main street, but internally? Internally I'm plotting Gia's death. Every flirty smile the woman tosses Kazex's way, I mentally picture punching her face. She's got gorgeous, thick curling hair and a winsome smile that she flashes like a weapon.

And she's flirting with Kazex.

And he's mine, goddamn it.

My anger and frustration turn to worry as the minutes tick past and Gia and Kazex continue to talk at her sled. The packages are in the trunk, and yet he's not returning to my side. Gia keeps talking, reaching out and touching his arm and tossing her hair, and Kazex is smiling back at her. He's enjoying this.

A sinking feeling enters my gut. A realization.

I've made a mistake.

This is my future, all because I didn't act. I'm in the process of losing him even as I stand here, and I'm helpless to do anything about it.

For months, I've been pushing Kazex away. I've been telling him that I don't want anything but friendship. It's not that I do. I like him. I like him too much. But I'm also terrified that the feelings I have for him aren't my own. That they're leftover clone memories and they belong to Ruth-Ann or Ruth. That they're not part of what makes me me. So I've kept him at arm's length...and now seeing him basking in Gia's flirting? I'm too late. It's entirely possible that he's moved on. Given up on me.

The thought fills me with such panic that I can scarcely breathe.

Why did I do that? Why am I like this? Why did I push him away? I was terrified of what it would mean if I was with him, but now I'm realizing that it's far worse to lose him entirely.

Gia throws her head back and laughs and touches his chest again, and I picture grabbing her by those gorgeous thick curls of hers and just shaking her until she stops smiling. The knot in my stomach just keeps growing until I feel absolutely sick. I'm going to burst into tears, I realize, watching the man I love get fawned over by a flirty woman.

No, better yet, I'm going to throw up.

As I remain a short distance away, forgotten, I watch as Gia points at his datapad and says something. He pulls it from its holder on his belt and types something in, and I know just what he's putting down. Her phone number. Or her comm number. Or whatever people use to communicate here on Risda. Whatever it is, it makes my spirits sink lower and lower. Here I've been holding him at arm's length for months now, and in the space of one day, Gia has laid claim to him. She knows what she wants and she's going after it, full-bore.

I don't know if I'm madder at her or myself. I have to admire that she has the stones to pursue him, but I also don't know how to compete with that. I'm a mess. I keep waiting for the day that I'm confident in my skin and...I'm still waiting.

Kazex glances over at me as if he's just remembered that I exist. He puts his datapad away and detangles himself from Gia with a friendly goodbye. He returns to my side as she speeds away in her air-sled, a look of concern on his face. "You okay, Ruthie?"

Oh, just throwing up in my mouth. "Did she just give you her number?"

He chuckles. "Indeed. She insisted I write down her contact information so I can send her a message."

Isn't that cute. "Lucky you."

Kazex's smile fades as he studies me. "You sure you're all right? You look troubled."

I hate seeing the happiness fade from his face. I hate that I'm the big party pooper for the day. It just makes how I'm feeling worse. I'm the problem, not Kazex. He doesn't owe me anything. "I ate something that disagreed with me. Tell the others I'm going back to the ship, all right?"

A look of concern crosses his face. "I'll come with you⁠—"

I put a hand up, silencing him. He's going to be kind and friendly and patient like he always is, and I'll just lose it even more. "I don't need you." When he flinches, I feel like a monster. God, I'm just making this worse by the moment. "I'm going back alone. You find the others. I'll see you back home."

I run off like a coward before I can open my big fat mouth again.

I make it back to the Scarlet Gaze. She's docked with the long-term ships, the biggest one there and so she's easy to find. I step onto one of the motorized walkways and let it zoom me back to the ship and then I retreat to my quarters, avoiding everyone.

I spend all afternoon in bed, crying and hugging my pillow. It doesn't make me feel any better. Being in bed reminds me that this was actually Kazex's bed. That he roomed with Dopekh until I arrived, and then kicked Dopekh out so I could have a safe space to myself. I slept in his quarters until Ruth-Ann arrived and now I room with my sister-clone. It’s just another way Kazex and I have been separated.

He's probably flirting with Gia even now and realizing he's been an idiot for waiting for me. If I lose him, I lose my best friend. I lose the only guy I'm even vaguely interested in. I lose everything...which makes me cry even harder.

I'm such a loser. I can't even be happy for him that he's potentially found someone. All I can think about is how miserable it makes me. How I had the opportunity to kiss him and show him that I cared and I was too chicken-shit to do it.

Later that evening, there's a knock at the door. "Ruthie?"

It's Ruth's voice. I lift my bleary head and wipe at my running nose. My eyes feel itchy and swollen, and I'm sure I look hideous. It makes a fresh round of tears threaten. "Go away."

She doesn't listen. She just knocks again. "Kazex says you're sick. Let me in or I'm going to get Sakkar."

Ugh. Sakkar is the ship's medic. The last thing I need is him giving me sour looks of reprimand as he realizes I'm not sick at all, just emotional. As threats go, it's a good one. Frustrated, I move to the door and slap the panel, then fling myself back into bed again, burying my face in the pillow like a dramatic teenager. "I don't want to talk to anyone."

"Tough titty," Ruth says, her footsteps echoing on the floor of the room and telling me she’s approaching. "You don't have to talk to me long. You just have to tell me what's going on so Ruth-Ann and I can relax."

Despair fills me again. "I'm not sick. I'm fucked in the head."

"Who isn't?" Ruth-Ann says in a mild voice, and I realize she's in our room, too. I sit up, crossing my legs and hugging a pillow in front of me as I confront my sister-clones. 

It's always unnerving to look at the two of them, because it's like looking in a mirror...except not. Their features are exact replicas of mine, closer than even twins. Some of the a'ani have different spacing to their features, or one might have a softer jaw or thicker brows. Ruth, Ruth-Ann and I really look as if we've just stepped out of a mirror funhouse. It's freaky, and I think that's why I'm so obsessed with piercings and shaving my head. I'm desperately trying to establish “me,” and that confidence gets eroded every time I look one of them in the eye.

If Ruth and Ruth-Ann suffer from the same questionable sense of self that I do, they don't show it. Ruth has always had a strong personality. She says what she thinks and acts first, questions later. She's brave and just a bit foolhardy and I'm envious of that. She hasn't changed a bit about herself at the discovery of me—her hair is the same long sweep of black it ever was, and her skin is tattoo-less and devoid of piercings.

Ruth-Ann is a little more reserved than Ruth, more self-contained. She's the quietest of the three of us, but the most self-assured. She prefers to wear gray and white to Ruth's somber black, her clothes always tidy and spare, and her hair is cut blunt just above the shoulders. She tucks it behind her ears, as if she can't be bothered to do anything with it.

Me, I'm the messy one. I'm the one that wears the rumpled jumpsuits, the one with the mohawk and all the piercings and tattoos. I'm the one that doesn't have her shit together. It's depressing to not only be a clone, but to be the shittiest one.

"Are you both here to lecture me?" I ask, sullen.

"We're here because we're worried about you," Ruth-Ann says in a calm, even voice. She sits beside me on the bed, her expression bland.

"You do look like shit," Ruth agrees, leaning against the door jamb. "Why are you crying?"

I sigh heavily and hug my pillow tighter. Ruth-Ann reaches over and brushes one of the longer locks of hair off of my brow. "You can tell us. We won't say anything. What happened after we split up?"

I can't even hate my sister-clones because I love them. Yes, they're me, but having them both here is like having two sisters I never realized I had, and I wouldn't trade our bond for anything....even if it fucks me up. Hearing the gentleness in Ruth-Ann's voice lets me open up, and I lean on her shoulder as I tell them about my horrible day in Port. I tell them all about Gia and how hard she flirted with Kazex, and how he seemed to be totally into it, the jerk.

They aren't completely on my side, either. Ruth shakes her head when I tell her all about how much Gia was all over Kazex. "He was being nice, Ruthie. She needed help with her stuff, right? It's not his fault he's cute and friendly. She just took advantage of that. Did he touch her back?"

"No," I admit. Now that I think about it, all the touching was on Gia's side.

"Well, there you go."

"I'm surprised at all of this," Ruth-Ann admits. "Why did I think you and Kazex were already together?"

"Gee, I dunno. Because she wears his clothes and shadows him? Because he makes googly eyes at her every time she walks into the room?" Ruth is full of amused sarcasm. "Because it's clear to everyone but the two of them that they should be together?"

"It's...complicated."

"More complicated than letting another woman flirt with him because you're too chicken to do it yourself?"

My lip trembles and I'm on the verge of crying again. "It's not that easy."

"Why isn't it?" Ruth asks. "I'm genuinely curious."

I toy with the hoop that pierces the center of my lower lip. "I'm not settled in who I am like you two. Ruth-Ann is so confident in who she is, and so are you, Ruth. I'm just a mess. I worry that if I have feelings for him, that they're not mine, you know? That they belong to someone else."

Ruth puts her hands up. "Ugh, they're not my feelings. Kaz is nice in a little brother sort of way, but that's it. I'm very happy with my husband."

"And I don't like men," Ruth-Ann says, as simply as if we're discussing the weather. "So there's that."

"You...don't?" I turn to Ruth-Ann, surprised. "How did I not know this?"

She shrugs. "I thought it was obvious."

"Back to the subject at hand," Ruth says, snapping her fingers to get my attention. "Let's turn the tables. Do you have feelings for my husband? Either of you?"

"I just said I don't like men," Ruth-Ann reminds her, expression prim.

I search through my feelings, looking for the barest nugget of emotion when it comes to Straik, Ruth's mesakkah husband. I guess he's handsome if you like your men blue and with horns, but I don't feel anything for him. He's like...not even like a brother. He's like a classmate that you tolerate because he's always around. I try to imagine having sex with him and blanch. "No. No feelings."

"Well then, there you go. Whatever hots you have for Kazex? That's all you." She twirls a finger, indicating me.

I absorb this, feeling a little foolish at how upset I've been. How are they able to see things so clearly when I'm such a mess? Of course I'm not in love with Straik. Those feelings are all Ruth. And I'm not into women, so that's all Ruth-Ann. It makes me feel a little better, in a strange way, to realize that my feelings are mine and mine alone. "I guess I should have talked to you two about this earlier."

"See? Problem solved," Ruth says.

Ruth-Ann gives my shoulder a little squeeze. "Just because we're clones doesn't mean we don't have our own thoughts and feelings. Look at the crew. None of them are alike in personality."

She's not wrong. Kazex is laid-back and easygoing. Dopekh is gullible and somewhat emotional, going from one doomed romance to another. Sakkar is a sour puss. Erzah is a risk-taker and loves to come up with ideas. Aithar is an innocent sweetheart. Zaemen would forget his own head if it wasn't tied down. Jerzec is a flirt and a little ambitious. I can pick them all out by the tone of their voices. I know each one's tells when we gamble.

Why is it that this sort of thing is so obvious when it comes to the men and yet I'm so clueless about it when it comes to myself? Here I've been holding Kazex at arm's length for months and months because I've been stewing in worry. Now it might be too late. "So what do I do? He might be in love with Gia now."

"If he is, he sure got over you fucking quickly." Ruth makes a sound of disgust.

"He literally just met her," Ruth-Ann tells me with a frown.

They didn't see the way she flirted, though. I'm less angry with Gia by the minute and more envious that she's so confident to go after what she wants. "Okay, well, we've established that I'm a birdbrain who's in her own head too much. How do I get Kazex back?"

"Seduce him," Ruth says immediately.

"Fight for him," Ruth-Ann agrees.

"How?" I spread my hands. "I'm not seductive. I'm a mess."

"But he likes your mess," Ruth-Ann reassures me with a gentle arm squeeze. "He's made that clear. You might think you don't have yourself together, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's always looked at you as if you're the best thing since sliced bread."

"But it might have changed⁠—"

"It hasn't changed," both of my sisters say immediately.

"You don't know that," I protest.

"Feel him out, then." Ruth rubs her hands together, thinking. "As for how to seduce him, it's not difficult. Ask him for his help with something."

"Help with what?"

"Whatever will get you two alone together. Then you can, oops, drop your handkerchief and show him a bit of cleavage."

"What are you, a 1950s movie?" Ruth-Ann jokes.

Ruth sticks her tongue out.

I glance down at my decidedly unimpressive cleavage. "If I dress sexy it's not me."

"So be yourself," Ruth-Ann tells me. "Ask him to tattoo you in a private spot that you can't reach."

A hot blush heats my cheeks. I can just picture that, me asking Kazex if a snake tattoo would look good on my backside. 

Maybe not. But it's not a bad idea. Maybe a piercing...

"I'll give it some thought," I tell them, feeling shy. "I'm sorry to be such a mess today. Thanks for talking me through things."

"What are sisters for?" Ruth says, coming over to hug both of us. I'm enveloped between Ruth and Ruth-Ann as we share a messy hug, and for a moment, I'm filled with so much love for my two sister-clones that I ache.

"I love you guys," I tell them, all choked up.

Ruth gives me another squeeze. "Does he have a sweet tooth? Maybe you should get him a couple cookies from that new baker down in Port that Erzah mentioned."

Ruth-Ann makes a dismissive noise. "Don't bother. They're terrible."

So much for that. But my idea starts to take shape in my head, and as I hug my sisters, I wonder if I have the courage to act on it. But if I don't...I'll lose Kazex forever. If not to Gia, to someone else. He's not going to wait for me to get my head out of my ass for all eternity.

I need to act. I need to tell him how I feel.

But I need to see how he feels first.

CHAPTER

TEN

KAZEX

Everyone on the Scarlet Gaze does double-duty when it comes to assignments. I'm the head of security, but I'm also the back-up to maintenance. That means I need to know how all the machinery on the Gaze works, and how to fix things in case one of them is missing. Erzah and Zaemen are good at keeping up with things, but since I have some free time on my hands, I decide that maybe the ship's landing gear needs a diagnostic check.

It allows me to stay outside and look busy, which is perfect...because I'm not ready to go back on the ship just yet.

I have the vague feeling that I've messed up somehow. That Ruthie's mystery illness and snappy mood this afternoon are due to me. I've upset her somehow, and when Ruth is upset, she gets sick. Therefore it makes sense that Ruthie has the potential of doing the same. I feel awful about it, and I don't know how to fix it.

The only solution I have? Flinging myself at Ruthie and demanding that she fall in love with me already, because I'm getting tired of waiting.

Except that's not entirely true. I'll wait forever for her if I have to. I'm her safe space. I want her to trust me. And if it means swallowing my pride and furtively jerking off in the shower for the next ten years, well...it's not the worst future. But I don't know that Ruthie would take kindly to my begging today, so I fiddle with the ship's landing equipment and pretend like there are gears that need cleaning.

When the sun goes down and the floodlights kick on at the space port, Risda's bugs come out. They drone noisily, flitting through the air and landing on me like I'm a tasty snack. I smack a few of them off of my skin, but I must taste pretty good because they're not letting up. It's a sign that I need to go inside.

With a heavy sigh, I finish my diagnostic and put my datapad in my belt holster, heading into the ship at long last. Once inside, I can hear Dopekh yelling something at Jerzec, and the music over the comm means that Aithar is on bridge duty. I'm guessing that Ruthie is probably with her sisters in the rec room, so I head to the mess hall instead.

Erzah is inside, slurping down an enormous bowl of noodles. He likes to make two or three servings at once, insisting that the “flavor is better” that way. He doesn't look up when I enter, just mumbles something that might be a greeting and continues reading something on his datapad. Probably reading the seller information about the location we visited today. It wasn't much to look at in my eyes, but Erzah was excited over it. He'd stayed behind to talk to the owner while I headed back to the ship...and promptly dithered with the landing gear instead of talking to Ruthie.

I think about the smiling woman that I met earlier today—the flirty one. Erzah would probably like her, and she seemed eager to please. She also didn't mind that I was a clone, which means she wouldn't mind that Erzah is, either. She's perfect for him. I head over to his table and pull my datapad out, flicking the woman's contact information onto the screen.

Gia, right. I'd forgotten her name.

"Here," I tell him, tapping the screen. "Write this information down. I found you a charming female. She likes a'ani."

He looks up at me, noodles hanging from his mouth. He quickly slurps them in and wipes his lips. "Who's this?"

"Some human woman I met when I was in Port earlier."

He gives me an odd look. "So...she's interested in you? Why are you giving this to me?"

"Because I'm not interested." I glance around the mess hall. "Have you seen Ruthie tonight? Is she feeling better?"

"I dunno." He shoves another mouthful of noodles into his face with his sticks. "You want me to ask?"

I sit down at the table, relieved. He'll go talk to her for me? I don't want her to think I'm hovering over her if all she has is a headache. "That would be great."

He nods and sets his utensils and bowl down. He doesn't get up, though. Instead, he tilts his head back and shouts. "RUTHIE! HEY, RUTHIE!"

I stare at him in horror. Keffing hells, why did I even bother?

Footsteps thump down the hall and then Ruthie appears in the doorway, her tunic rumpled and her hair flattened on top. Her eyes are red and swollen and she looks miserable. "What is it?"

"You okay?" Erzah asks casually. "You look like hell."

"Gee, thanks." She leans against the doorjamb. "I'm fine."

I jump to my feet, eager to help out. "Let me get you something to eat. You want noodles? Night tea?"

"Really, I'm okay." Ruthie comes to sit at our table just as I get up. "Are we playing sticks tonight?"

"Do you want to?" Erzah asks, discreetly glancing at me.

I thump back down again.

"Why wouldn't I?" Ruthie leans over the table and flicks a discarded noodle off of the surface. "We play sticks most nights. Why would tonight be different?"

"I dunno." He shoots me a more obvious look and I kick him under the table. Why is he being so keffing weird? I don't want him to make Ruthie feel like there's a problem. Like she's a problem. That couldn't be further from the truth. When I shoot him another hard look, Erzah clears his throat. "I, uh, guess I'll go round up the others and see who wants to play."

"All right," Ruthie says mildly, tracing a finger on the tabletop. She looks up at me from under her lashes. "Kaz, are you in?"

I'm filled with hot yearning when she looks at me like that. Like we're sharing something secret between the two of us. A thrill ripples up my spine when she gives me the tiniest smile, and I feel as if I would destroy entire planets just to make her happy. My chest puffs up and I nod. "You know I am. I like playing against you."

"Because you hold delusions that you can win," she teases, her mouth curving into a full-blown smile that makes my heart stutter.

"I don't mind if you clean my credits out. Whatever I have is yours, too." 

The look on her face becomes hesitant again, and the excited pounding of my heart immediately slows. Ugh, why did I say that? Stupid, stupid Kazex. I'm coming on too strong.

"I just mean that you're a good player," I correct, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "I don't mind losing to you because you're smart and you don't cheat like Salvotor does."

She taps her finger on the table again, her nails short and square. "I'm not sure if he cheats or if he just forgets all the rules when he gets excited."

"He cheats," I insist steadfastly. Her eyes are so red that they look painful, dark rings under them. "Are...you all right? You said you weren't feeling well earlier."

Her expression grows distant. "Just had some thinking to do is all."

"Wish I could help with that. We all know I'm not much of a thinker, though."

To my surprise, Ruthie looks upset at my response. "Don't talk about yourself like that."

It makes me feel warm to hear her defend me, but it's not necessary. "I know my strengths, Ruthie. We all have our roles. Mine is best when I'm the muscle and someone else does the thinking."

She frowns and reaches her hand toward me, then hesitates and pulls away. Inwardly, I groan. She doesn't realize just how badly I wanted that small touch.

Then, she knocks on the table and gets to her feet. "Hope you're ready to lose your paycheck in sticks."

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

RUTHIE

I'm such a chicken.

Kazex was watching me with such an intense gaze that it was making me flustered. But he wasn't saying anything. I need to hear words before I commit myself. I need reassurance that I'm not going to destroy our friendship. What if he looks at me that intensely because he thinks of me as the family dog? I'd shoot adoring looks my way, too.

That's my biggest problem with Kazex. He keeps giving me space, and I don't know how to read that space. Is it a friendly space or something more? He confessed he was in love with me when we first met, but a lot has happened in six months. I think Dopekh has fallen in love with three different people in six months. Things can change quickly. Kazex fell in love in a heartbeat. He might have just as easily fallen out of love. I might be the adorable kid sister in his eyes.

I...think I'm going to vomit if I've been kid-sister-ed.

So I make awkward conversation with him until the others pile in. Salvotor, Dopekh, Aithar, and Zaemen are all down to play sticks, along with Erzah and Kazex. Other than Kaz, I know I can absolutely clean everyone else out, which means I'm going to make a pretty penny tonight.

Neither Ruth-Ann or Ruth ever want to play sticks with the boys like I do. We have a set of playing cards that we made, but they don't get nearly as much use as the sticks set. It's just easy to toss them and haggle over how you think the pieces will fall and how much you should bid. It leaves a lot of time for shit-talking, which is pretty much the favorite pastime of several of the men. We head into the rec room and take over the main gaming table, and get comfortable with drinks and snacks.

A few hours later, I've got a fat pile of credits in front of me, and the others are nearly cleaned out.

"I don't get it," Salvotor complains. "How does she win so often?"

"She cheats," Zaemen declares, winking at me.

"Do not," I retort back, dragging another handful of winnings back towards my pile. "I can't help it if you guys suck."

"Maybe she can read minds," Aithar jokes, and holds a stick to his forehead. "What am I thinking right now, Ruthie?"

"You're thinking about scratching your balls," I joke back.

"That's an easy one," Ruth-Ann says, reaching out to ruffle Aithar's inky black hair. "He's a man. He's always thinking about scratching his balls."

Everyone laughs, even Aithar. I just grin with amusement, because they haven't figured out that I know how to read every single one of their tells. There's no mind-reading involved, just people-watching. I know Aithar twitches when he pulls a bad hand. Salvotor wears his thoughts on his face, so there's no need to think hard about reading him. Erzah taps his pinky against the table when he's thinking hard, which means he's got something. Dopekh will quickly look away from his hand and study everyone else as if trying to seem casual, which is a sure sign that he has something. Everyone on the ship that plays sticks has these subtle little movements I've learned to read.

Even Ruth-Ann. She doesn't like to play, but she does hang out and circles around the table, looking at people's hands and joining in on the jokes. She'll move quickly away from someone that has something good, as if she's trying to protect them. Her actions are well intended, but it has the opposite effect. I'm reading her now and making moves based on that.

Zaemen throws his hands up when he loses to me yet again in the next round. "I give up. I'm not playing Ruthie anymore. I might as well just keffing hand my entire wallet to her the moment I see her. There's no point in actually playing."

Inwardly, I wince a little at his frustration, but I know if I acknowledge it, it'll just make things worse. After months of playing near-nightly games with them, I know that Zaemen gets hotheaded when he loses and tends to run his mouth. I also know he'll come up to me later and apologize, embarrassed, for losing his temper. But for now, all I can do is pretend like I'm unbothered. I stack some of the credits in front of me while Aithar tosses handfuls of the playing sticks into the shuffler and everyone tactfully ignores the steam Zaemen is blowing off.

Everyone except Kazex. He picks up one of the fried leaves from one of the baskets and throws it at Zaemen's face. "It's not Ruthie's fault she's good at sticks. Get better or quit complaining."

The leaf slaps against Zaemen's nose and leaves an oily smear on the bridge before flopping to the table. Zaemen jerks to his feet, glowering at Kaz. "Kef you."

Kaz gets to his feet, too, not backing down. "Say what you like about any of us, but don't say shit about Ruthie. Understand me?"

I sit in silence, feeling awkward. I was already planning on handing back credits to the others at the end of the gameplay. It's about the fun, not about the money, and I've given credits back more often than I've kept them. I know Zaemen's saving up for something big, just like Erzah's been saving up for his cantina concept. Tempers run hot after a few drinks at the sticks table, because the guys also run their mouths as much as they throw sticks. That's just how it is. People get pissy and then it's all forgotten in the morning and everyone has a good laugh.

But Kazex isn't normally one to lose his temper at sticks. In fact, he's the head of security because he's so level-headed about most things. He doesn't lose his cool.

Right now, though? He looks like he wants to punch Zaemen in the mouth just for being annoyed at losing.

I'm...horrible.

Because I'm secretly flattered. I'm fucking loving this inside and I know I shouldn't. There's a small part of me squealing with delight that Kazex is standing up for me. Maybe...maybe I should try hitting on him like my sisters suggested.

To break things up, I shove all the credits I've won back into the center pot. "Come on. Let's do one last hand, guys. It's getting late anyhow. All in?"

And I nudge Kaz with my foot under the table.

He backs down, barely glancing over at me, but I know he's aware of my nearness. Ruth-Ann comes and hovers over the back of my chair as Zaemen grudgingly takes his seat again. The others push their credits in, and then Aithar tosses the beginning play.

This time, I make sure to lose. I'm far more interested in Kazex and talking to him after this, anyhow.

CHAPTER

TWELVE

KAZEX

After everyone heads out of the crew's rec room for the night, Ruthie and I head toward our quarters. We're near the front of the hall in the ship so it's a short walk, but I still have to restrain myself from touching her. I want to put a hand on her shoulder. I want to put a hand on the small of her back. At her waist. I want to just touch her. To show the universe that she's mine.

But it's not permitted, so I close my hand into a fist and stand patiently at her side.

Ruthie's quiet, and I'm worried Zaemen hurt her feelings. I'm contemplating retrieving him and insisting that he apologize, when she looks up at me. The tip of her tongue flicks against the loop in her lower lip, and my cock throbs in response. "Hey, Kaz?"

"Yes?" My voice breaks, and I clear my throat, grimacing. Her nearness makes everything in me act up.

"Can I get your help with something...delicate?"

Uh oh. What's troubling her? Has someone been cruel? Someone in Port? Or is it tonight's game? Do I need to go shake Zaemen? The need to protect Ruthie from the universe surges over me again. "Tell me who to kill and I'll do it."

Her smile flashes and Ruthie shakes her head at me. "Nothing like that. Let's just talk in private, all right?" 

She points at my quarters and when we're both in the room, she activates the “close” button and leans against the door.

I don't know what to do with myself. With my hands. With my face. Everything I do is going to reveal to her just how desperately I want her and then she'll feel pressured. Even my expression is going to give me away if I'm not careful. I end up crossing my arms over my chest and frowning with grave intensity down at her. Maybe if I look like I'm exceedingly serious, it'll hide the fact that I just want to drag her into my lap and cuddle the kef out of her.

Ruthie teases the lip ring with the tip of her tongue again, and something hot and needy clenches in my gut. "Promise you won't think I'm weird for asking?"

"I would never think you're weird," I vow to her. "And you can ask me for anything."

My credits? They're hers. The clothes off my back? Hers. A kidney? All for her. All Ruthie has to do is ask. I'll turn myself into spare parts if that's what she needs from me.

She braces herself against the door, her face oddly flushed. She won't look me in the eye, either, and my mood plummets, certain that something is wrong.

Ruthie looks up at me. "I need your help with another piercing."

"Oh." That's...not what I expected to hear from her. I mean, it's fine. It's just not the big secret thing I was expecting to be entrusted with. Truth be told, her piercings make me uncomfortable. Not because I dislike them or think she's strange—that couldn't be further from the truth. If she was just decorating herself for the sake of decorating, I'd be the first one to cheer her on. A'ani know all about changing up your appearance. But I also know that Ruthie gets a piercing when she's feeling bad about herself. Or she'll shave a design on the side of her head when she has a nightmare. It's not her taking initiative—it's her reacting to something that's making her feel bad about herself.

So no, I don't like it when she asks me about piercings. The only thing I can think of is who hurt her and how I hurt them back. But I'm glad she asked me, because of course I'll help her. "We should probably use the med-bay machine, just in case. Where did you want this one?"

Her eyes flick up to meet my gaze. "On my nipples."

...did...

...did I hear that correctly?

"I'm...sorry?" Shit, my voice is breaking again. My cock heard “nipples” for sure, but I'm not sure the rest of me did. I put a finger in my ear and vigorously rub it, trying to make sure my hearing isn't going. "Where again?"

"Nipples," she says, and there's a strange confidence on her face now. She pushes off the door and walks toward me, and kef me, she's cupping her small tits and pushing them out as if I need a reminder what a breast is. "Here. I want to pierce my nipples, but I need them to be even, and that's why I need a second set of eyes."

Oh, kef me.

She needs a second set of eyes.

On her naked breasts.

That are going to get pierced.

My cock may never be soft again.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

KAZEX

I'm sweating. Is it hot in here? Are the environmentals on? I tug at my collar as Ruthie gazes at me with expectant eyes. "You want me to pierce your breast?"

"The nipple, actually. It's a fairly common piercing for humans and it's supposed to be really appealing. I like the thought of doing it but I didn't want to go to Sakkar. Do you mind helping me?"

"Of course not." Just the thought of Sakkar seeing her naked breasts and touching them makes me want to punch something. "I'm glad you came to me."

"I wouldn't approach anyone else with this." There's a strange little smile on her face. "I trust you."

"Good." It's all I say, and then I want to smack myself in the face for not being more eloquent. Good? Good? That's all I've got? When Ruthie's about to bare her breasts to me and trust me to pierce them?

Kef me, just thinking about that makes me sweat.

"So how should we do this?" Ruthie reaches for the fastener at the top of her collar and activates it. The fabric immediately loosens as the auto-fastener slides down the path, showing a good deal of her throat and the bare skin underneath. "You want to look at my breasts and mark the spot first⁠—"

She breaks off as I move toward her and grab her tunic, closing it tight at her throat. "Wait."

"What?" Her brows furrow. "If you don't want to help me, just say so."

I have to bite back a groan of frustration. "It's not that. It's..." How do I tell her the truth? How do I point out that if she takes her shirt off, my cock is going to get hard and remain that way? That I'm not going to be able to remain objective because I've dreamed about seeing her naked? That I've beat off to it too many times to count? That if she reveals even a smidge more of her skin, I'm not going to be able to remain unaffected? "Ruthie, I might not be the best person for this after all."

Kef, I'm sweating so hard.

Ruthie looks crushed. "Oh."

She takes a step back, pushing my hand away from her tunic. I idly note that it's one of mine, cut and sized down to fit her. She hasn't had new clothes printed for herself. She prefers to wear my cast-offs. Kef, why do I love that so much?

She looks so wounded that it physically hurts me to see her like this. I need to explain. "It's not you. It's me."

A bitter laugh escapes her and she fastens her tunic shut again. "Funny. That's what guys say when they want to break up with a woman. Just say you're not interested in seeing me naked, all right?"

She can't truly think that. It's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. And yet the look on her face is shut down, closed off. Hurt. I have to fix this somehow. I reach out and cover her hand as she fusses with the fastener on her clothes. "That's not it at all. I'm too interested in seeing you naked."

Ruthie cocks one eyebrow and gives me a skeptical look.

"It's true. That's why I'm all wrong for this. I can't stay unbiased, Ruthie." I take a step back and rake a hand through my hair. "You think I haven't keffing dreamed of seeing you naked? Of touching you? I think about it all the time. That's why I'm telling you now. I can't help you with this because it's going to...affect me." I clear my throat. "Very specific parts of me."

Her smile returns. The look she gives me is soft, and to my surprise, she taps the auto-fastener again, re-activating it. It slowly descends down the front of her tunic even as she shrugs the material off her shoulders. "That's why you're perfect to help me. You won't act on it."

I want to. Kef me how I want to.

"I'd feel strange exposing my body to one of the others, like Zaemen or Aithar or even Salvotor. But I trust you."

Her tunic drops.

I immediately squeeze my eyes shut, panting. My cock is fully engorged, pressing against my trou insistently. I'm sweating, too, beads of moisture sliding down my face and into my collar. I need to get myself under control. Maybe if I have a few moments, I can calm my racing heart, and my cock will ease up. Maybe...

"You can look, you know." Ruthie's voice is full of amusement. She chuckles. "You're going to have to if you're going to pierce me."

Kef. My cock practically jumps in response to that throaty little laugh she gives. "I'll only look if you want me to. Your body belongs to you."

"Of course I want you to."

I suck in a deep breath and then open my eyes.

Ruthie standing topless before me is the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen. A low groan escapes me despite my best efforts to hold it back. She's all beautiful pale skin with a golden cast to it and smooth, delicate shoulders. Her skin is unmarked, her navel a tiny shadow. Her hand brushes over her collarbone even as her tunic pools at her waist.

And her breasts. Kef me, her breasts. They're perfect. Everything about her is perfect. She's got dark little nipples and these perfect gentle swells that look as if they'd be the most pleasant mouthful ever. There's a small mole to the left of one nipple that I want to stare at forever. My mental image updates with the reality of her breasts and I know I'm going to be jerking off in the shower very soon to that one tiny mole.

"You okay?" she asks sweetly.

I rub a hand over my mouth. "I don't know how to answer that. All of the blood in the upper half of my body is rushing south."

She chuckles again and takes a step toward me. "Am I what you imagined?"

"Better. Much better." My tongue is thick, my vision hazy. Kef me, I can't stop staring. Her nipples are just the most delicate, delightful little buds.

Ruthie's smile grows even more confident. She reaches to her breast and strokes her fingers over her nipple. "You think they need to be hard before we pierce them?"

Just that small motion is enough to make me lose control. I race past her to the lavatory, slamming on the “close” button. Before it's completely shut, I have my cock free from my trou and I'm desperately jerking it. One stroke and I'm coming, spraying down the sink in front of me as I picture Ruthie's nipples and the fingers teasing them.

Kef. Me.

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

RUTHIE

I bite my lip, listening to the groaning of Kazex as he frantically beats off in the bathroom.

Okay, maybe I'm coming on too strong.

God, it's so gratifying, though. To go from wondering if he even likes me as more than a sister to him losing control the moment I tweak my nipple. I wasn't trying to drive him insane, to be fair. It just sorta happened. I was feeling in control. Powerful. Sexy. It's not something I'm used to, but I have to admit, I loved it.

I thought he'd maybe touch my breast, confess his feelings for me. Something. Instead, he ran off to jerk it in private. So I'm partially gratified, but I'm also a little frustrated. He did say he wouldn't be unaffected. I just thought maybe he'd actually want to touch me.

Hm.

Still, I'm going to take this as an encouraging sign. That maybe he hasn't completely lost interest in me over someone like Gia. Maybe, just maybe he'll want to take things to the next level. The thought is both exhilarating and terrifying.

I pull my tunic back on and fasten it, then wait for Kaz to emerge from the lavatory. The water runs for a while, and I suspect he's cleaning up. Or avoiding me and hoping I'll leave. I sit on the edge of the bed, reclining backward and propped up on my elbows as I wait on him.

When he finally emerges, his hair is damp with sweat and his expression is sheepish. "I apologize, Ruthie."

"Because you had to go jerk off?"

"Because I thought I could handle that better than I did."

"Handle my breast, you mean?" I can't seem to stop flirting with him.

I love the slightly startled and wary look on his face, as if he's debating heading back into the bathroom for round two. "No. I just...I thought I would be able to contain myself better than that." He gestures weakly at the lavatory. "Most a'ani are kept on medications that prevent us from getting aroused. So when we get off of them..."

"It's a hair-trigger. I get it." My self-esteem is growing flatter by the moment. I sit up, resisting the urge to tug my newly re-fastened collar so high that it hides my face. "So it's not me. It's that any boobs would set you off."

How depressing.

Kazex suddenly kneels before me and grabs my hands. "Ruthie. I say and do all the wrong things. I don't know how to go about this. But let me be very clear. I have never entertained the thought of any boobs but yours. No other female affects me. You are the only one in my thoughts. Ever."

My face gets hot at his confession and the intense expression on his face. His hands clutch mine, and I can't help but think that a few moments ago, these hands were stroking over his cock, working his length to the thought of me.

"I have told you this before," he chides.

"Yes, but that was months ago. A lot changes in six months."

"Nothing has changed for me." He shakes his head slowly, emphasizing his words. "Nothing."

"But Gia⁠—"

"Nothing." He squeezes my hand. "Has." Squeezes again. "Changed."

Oh. Well.

That means he's mine. He's always been mine. I can reach out right now and touch him and kiss him as much as I want...and I'm suddenly terrified by the prospect. It's a big change in our comfortable stalemate. What if we fuck things up? "I'm afraid."

He laces his fingers with mine, leaning against my knees as he kneels on the floor by the edge of the bed. "Does it help if I say that I'm here with you?"

"You're the reason I'm afraid to mess things up," I confess. "I don't want to lose what we have. I don't want to lose you."

"I told you we could go as slow as you needed. If you want to go back to how we were, we can. We can forget this conversation." His gaze flicks to my front. "But I might not be able to help with your newest piercing."

I don't want it if he can't. I don't want to go back to where we were earlier tonight, either. "I just...what if it takes me ten years to get comfortable with the idea of moving forward as us? Of having sex?"

"Then I would tell you that I will probably be jerking off in the sink a lot."

I want to giggle, but it's somehow the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me. That he's going to wait. That my needs are more important than his. God, he's wonderful. "Because you're mine?" I ask softly.

"Because I have always been yours." And he leans down and puts his head in my lap, where our joined hands were just a moment ago.

I hesitate, because touching him like this feels more intimate than we've ever been... and I literally just showed him my tits. But it's different like this. It's softer, more tender. I flex my fingers and then carefully run them through his soft, dark hair. He groans, hugging my legs and holding me close, as if he's never wanted anything more than this moment. I scratch lightly at his scalp, then brush his hair back from his brow. He has tattoos that disappear into his short hair, and I wonder how far back they go. I even trace the pointed line of one ear, surprisingly delicate on such a big, strong guy.

"No matter what you decide, I'm fine with all of it," he reassures me. "I just want to be with you. More than that, I want to be yours."

His emphasis makes me realize there's a difference between the two, and I never realized that before. He's right, though. You can be with someone and not be with them. It's the latter part that I'm so careful to withhold. It's that part that makes me wonder what it'd be like to truly be with Kaz. To stop fighting it.

It'd either be glorious...or it'd fuck everything up. And I've lost everything I thought I had twice now—once when I woke up to find myself a slave on a strange space station instead of in my bed at home. Once because I found out I wasn't even me, but one of many clones of some unknown woman who might have been Ruth or Ruthie or Ruth-Ann or none of the above.

To lose everything a third time might break me.

So I gently push Kazex's head off my lap. "I still want to go slow."

"We will go the slowest." But his eyes are gleaming with eagerness. Joy. As if I've finally acknowledged something between us. It terrifies me.

"I still want you to help me pierce my nipple."

He grimaces but then nods. "We will plan it better. Tomorrow I will make sure to take care of myself beforehand." Kaz thinks for a moment, and then adds, "Several times. Just in case."

"Probably for the best." I manage a small smile. "It's late anyhow."

He jumps to his feet, his hair tousled and messy from where I'd been stroking it. It makes the cutest swirl over the tattoo on the side of his forehead and I'm itching to reach out and touch it. I don't want to get ahead of myself, though. The more familiar I get with him, the more he's going to expect. I can't get his hopes up.

So I head to the lavatory to brush my teeth and get ready for bed, and try not to think about how the sink was just defiled...and how I can't stop obsessing over it and how he touched himself. I change quickly into my night tunic (another one of his old tunics, this one a pull-over that hasn't been resized and hangs off me like a dress) and emerge into his quarters again. The lights have been turned low in preparation for sleep. Kazex has his pallet set up in front of the door, like he always does. He's stripped to the waist, his tattoos stark against his bare skin, and he's laying atop the blankets, his hands behind his head.

There's another bed in the room, directly across from mine. This room sleeps two crew members, with two single beds. It’s Erzah’s bed since the reshuffle, but every time I come over, I never see him in it. Kaz is rarely in his room, either. He sleeps outside my door, insisting he wants to protect me and to make me feel safer. That more than anything, he wants me to feel secure. Normally I try not to let it bother me. He's a grown man. If he wants to sleep in a bed, he can.

Tonight, though, I'm bothered by the pallet. I'm bothered by him picking something that's clearly uncomfortable in an effort to make me more at ease. He works hard for Lord Straik, and I know sometimes he's aching after a hard workout. Sleeping on the floor can't be helping that. "You can sleep in the bed, you know. I'm not scared."

"We're docked," he tells me as if that explains everything. "The ship could be boarded at any time. It's better if I protect you."

"You can still protect me from the other bed. You'd hear someone coming before they ever got in the room."

"I'm fine here."

I climb under the covers and turn the light off, but I can't sleep. I just keep thinking about Kazex and how he put his head in my lap earlier. How he insisted that he was mine. How he gave me everything I wanted and...I backed away again like a coward.

Ugh. I hate myself sometimes.

I flick on the light and move to the door. I hit the switch to open it and lean over the door jamb to look down at Kaz. "Come to bed."

"I'll sleep here to protect you."

"No," I say, and point at my bunk. "Come to bed. With me."

Kaz sits up, and I could swear his eyes seem darker. Hungrier. "I shouldn't."

I'm confused at his response. "But⁠—"

"It might be too much for me," he answers quickly. "But thank you."

"Ah." I'm disappointed, though. I liked sleeping curled up against him. I liked waking up and feeling his warm, hard body against mine. I felt safe, and loved, and protected. I'm just being greedy, though. If it's too much for him, it's too much. I turn the light off again and let the door slide shut. "Good night, then."

I'm in chains. They drag against my wrists and ankles, tearing into my flesh.

My feet are bare and cold against the metal floors of the lab. I stare at the floor, because my head is too heavy to lift. I'm so tired...

"Bring her this way." It's a stranger's voice, and he's speaking a language that is strange and garbled, yet I somehow understand it.

"What about the others?" another person says.

Others?

I lift my head, and as I do, I see I'm in a long hallway. There are rows and rows of tubes lining the hall, and in each tube, a woman floats in a strange liquid. Each woman has dark hair and looks like me. I pass one with piercings on her brow and one in her lip, and the same scalp-close haircut. Her eyes open as I walk past, and she pulls the breather out of her mouth.

Help me.

I turn and run, but my feet are weighed down by the chains. I make it to the end of the hall, and I turn down another. This one has more tubes, and in these, the women are thrashing, desperate to break free. They're drowning because someone forgot to give them breathers. They want help, but I can't help them.

Someone grabs me from behind and slips a breather over my mouth. I scream and scream and scream even as I'm shoved into a tube and the water comes up around me...

I wake up sobbing, coughing on water that doesn't exist. I flail against the bed, desperate to get up, to run away, to save the others. To do something.

"Hey," says a familiar voice. Warm hands grip my shoulders. The door is open, light spilling in from the hall. "Hey, I'm right here, Ruthie."

Biting back a whimper, I nod frantically. "Sorry. Bad dream. I'm fine."

Kazex cups my face in his hands and peers into my eyes. When tears spill out of them, he wipes them away with his thumbs and then releases me. "Scoot over."

"You don't have to⁠—"

"Hush, Ruthie. You need me and I'm here. It's as simple as that." He climbs into the narrow bed, slipping under the blanket as I move closer to the wall. Then we're both squeezed onto the small mattress and I can't help but press against him. There's no room to do otherwise. 

I should tell him I'm fine. Tell him he can go back to the floor. I'm the weakest of women because I know I'm not going to say any such thing.

Kazex puts an arm around me, tucking me against his chest. "Better now?"

I nod. His scent envelops me, along with his heat. His strength. And I'm so much better that it's pathetic.

"You want to talk about it?" he asks, breath tickling my ear.

"God, no."

He chuckles. "All right, then. If I end up taking up too much of the bed, let me know."

I press my face against the crook of his neck, my arms folded against my breasts and my body pressed tight to him. It's not the most comfortable way to sleep but I never want to move from this spot. He'll never take up too much of the bed, because the simple truth is that I want him in here.

I should kiss him.

I should just put my mouth on his throat and kiss him. Kiss his jaw. Kiss that pointed ear of his. Kiss the tattoo that hides under his clothes. Run my hands all over his warm red skin and explore him.

But...then what happens? What if touching him changes how comfortable we are with each other? I want him, but not at the expense of losing my best friend and the person I depend on the most.

So I just burrow deeper against his chest and breathe in his scent until I drift off to sleep, contemplating a new facial piercing. Maybe a tattoo. Anything to make me look different than all the women that were in the tubes in my dreams...

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

KAZEX

I wake up the next morning, drowsy and comfortable, vaguely aware that Ruthie is curled up against me, her backside pressed to my cock. It takes a few moments before I realize that the trou I slept in are wet across the lap.

Kef. My dreams last night had been full of Ruthie. And they were excellent dreams. Too excellent, it seems.

I'm wide awake at the realization that I've come in my pants. I haven't done that since I first got off the anti-arousal meds they give to a'ani slaves. The first few days being off them had been utterly wild, but since then I've gotten better at containing myself. Ruthie's presence destroys my self-control. Carefully, I ease the blankets off of me and slide away from her. I want to get changed before she realizes anything, because explaining that I can't control myself is embarrassing. I don't want to give her a reason to think less of me, either. I want her to think of me as her strong, sure protector, not a naive a'ani who can't keep control of what's in his trou.

I manage to slip out of bed and walk two steps across the floor before I hear the breathy little moan she makes when she's waking up. Kef. Kef twice. I race the rest of the way to the lavatory and shut the door quickly behind me.

"Kaz? Everything okay?" Her voice is sleepy and soft, and my still-hard cock twitches in response.

"Go back to sleep," I call, stripping off my trou. "I'm going to shower."

The door opens to the lavatory and Ruthie slinks in. I barely manage to grab a towel to cover my loins. Startled, I eye her. We've always been careful to give each other space in the past. She's never followed me into the lavatory before, and definitely not when I'm naked.

But she makes no effort to leave, either. Instead, she hops up on the sink and crosses her legs, regarding me. "Can I watch?"

My brain must not be functioning properly. "Watch what?"

"You shower?" Her tongue teases that ring in her lower lip again.

Annnd there goes my cock once more. It stiffens right up once more, eager for Ruthie to watch me. Eager to perform for her. "Ah, I'm not going to be able to ignore you if you stay, Ruthie."

She shrugs, leaning forward and resting her hands on the edge of the counter. "I like looking at you. I promise not to touch."

"I'm hard," I tell her bluntly. "And it's not going to go down with you in here."

"Is that bad?" Ruthie looks up at me through her lashes. "I don't mind if you don't mind."

As if I would mind. Keffing hells. I drop the towel and let her get a good look at my naked body, then. Let her see everything. She can see all my tattoos that snake up and down the side of my body. All the scars from old fights gone wrong and a few that went right. She can look her fill at my cock, which stands erect and proud and stabs at the air. A'ani aren't known to be elegantly beautiful like the mesakkah or as strong as the praxiians, but I've got strong arms and a flat stomach. Hopefully she'll like what she sees.

Ruthie's quiet as she looks me over, and my cock, already sensitive, prickles and aches from need. I can feel the beads of pre-cum sliding down the head and tickling down my length, but I don't move. I just wait for her to acknowledge my nakedness. To say if I pass muster.

She tilts her head and regards me, finally meeting my gaze again after giving me the longest look-over a male has ever endured. "I thought you said you were going to shower."

It's hard to stay focused when she's watching me so intently. I run my hand down my cock, pretending to adjust things, and I'm not surprised when her gaze immediately zooms there. It's flattering. Distracting, but flattering.

I step into the shower and start to soap up. I'm incredibly aware of my movements, knowing that Ruthie is watching everything I do closely. Soap and water run down my body, and I automatically reach down to stroke my cock. Just once, and then I force my hands to move away again. Normally I'd jerk off to take care of the edge, but with Ruthie sitting on the counter nearby, I don't know what would be too much for her. I don't know what she wants to see. I turn under the spray, appreciating that we have fresh running water since we're at Port. If we were deep in space, it'd be a much quicker steam shower made from recycled water. But a shower this morning can be as luxurious and languid as I want it to be.

Eventually, I get tired of dragging the shower out. Ruthie's not saying anything, nor is she moving from her spot. My brain is filled with fantasies of her stripping off her clothes and joining me, but the longer I shower, the more I realize that's never going to become a reality. So I turn the water off and shake the excess drops from my hair. I sneak a glance over at Ruthie.

She looks surprised that I'm finishing up. Her gaze flicks to my erect cock and then back to my face. "Are you not going to take care of that?"

Now I'm the one that's surprised. Is that what she's been waiting for? "I...are you going to stay and watch?"

Her cheeks flush and her tongue teases the lip ring again. "I'd like to."

So she wants me to perform for her?

I...keffing love the idea.

Shooting her a wicked grin, I reach for myself. I'm glad that she wants a show. Glad that she wants to watch me stroke my cock. This is progress. This is Ruthie declaring that I belong to her, in the smallest of ways. She wants to see what she's getting, even if she's not ready to touch just yet.

That's all right. I'll make her want to touch me.

I run my hand down my length, the other hand bracing against the wall of the shower. It won't take long for me to come—I know just the way to work my cock to get things taken care of quickly, but that won't make it good for Ruthie. So I force my hand slowly up and down my length, dragging things out. I glance over at her to see if she's watching.

Ruthie most definitely is watching. She's scooted to the end of the counter, moving closer to the shower for a better view. Her lips are slightly parted and her gaze is focused entirely upon my cock.

"Should I stop?" I ask her, already knowing the answer.

Her gaze flicks up to mine and then back down to my cock, riveted. "What if you use soap? To make things slick?"

I groan, because I love that idea. It's one I've definitely put into practice many a time. "Then I might go too fast."

"I don't mind." Her eyes gleam at the thought, as if it excites her.

"Kef, Ruthie. You're going to kill me." I love this voyeuristic side of her. I love that she wants to see me pleasure myself. I stroke my cock harder, giving the tip a little more attention. Then I do as she asks, squirting a generous amount of soap into my palm and then greasing up my shaft.

The sensation changes immediately from one of mild pleasure to intense ecstasy. A hard sound escapes my throat and I forget all about taking things slow. I grip myself tightly, working my length as I watch Ruthie watching me. Her excitement is palpable, her lips parted as she stares. A flurry of pornographic thoughts roll through my mind—of pushing my cock into those parted lips. Of her expression when I touch her for the first time. Of her sinking down onto my cock as she rides me...

Faster and faster, I work myself, beating off furiously as Ruthie's intense gaze encourages me onward. I love the breathless little sounds she makes when I grunt. I love the way she can't take her eyes off me. I love that she wants this from me. I look over at her as I stroke, and our eyes meet.

Instantly, my seed erupts. I come with a ragged snarl, spraying my release all over the shower walls as I lock eyes with my female. We stare at each other throughout my orgasm, until I've wrung every last drop of seed out of my balls, and I'm spent.

Spent, and yet elated.

Because this is the closest I've ever felt to Ruthie. This is the most intimate moment we've had so far. We've slept together a few times, but we've always been careful to keep boundaries between us. Today, looking into her eyes as I stroke my softening shaft, I feel those boundaries crumbling away. 

She hops off the counter, fussing with the bed-tumbled spikes of her short hair. "That was...a lot."

Her words are discouraging but she's smiling. I'll take it for a compliment. "Shall I do it again? Give me a moment, and I can."

Ruthie flushes. "No, I'm good for now. I...yeah." She crosses her arms over her chest and turns to leave, then pauses and turns back to me. "You're going to help me pierce my nipple later, right?"

"If you still wish to, yes."

She gives me a sly smile. "I do. Drink some coffee, it's going to be a late night for us."

I look forward to it.

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

RUTHIE

The hours drag past. I bury myself in work, doing inventory for the ship's food supplies. It's not anyone's favorite job because you have to scan each item into the computer and tell it how many there are left, and it offers you options for re-ordering or lets you know when things are about to expire so you can move them to the front of the queue. It's no one's favorite job but I don't mind it because it's fairly mindless. It means I can spend my time focusing on other things than the task at hand.

Things like...Kaz. And Kaz stroking his cock. And Kaz staring at me as he comes, his nostrils flaring and absolute hunger in his eyes.

I'm both flustered and excited all day. The shower scene replays through my head over and over again, and I'm a little shocked at how quickly he agreed to masturbate in front of me. Didn't even hesitate. Didn't even pause. Just whipped it out, let me look my fill, and then got in the shower and jerked off.

It was so fucking erotic. My panties are still wet.

I idly listen to the beep as I scan another bag of noodles, thinking about Kaz and his gloriously tattooed skin and his flat abdomen. He didn't have a navel, which threw me off for a hot second, because I do, and we're both clones. But I love the smooth, muscled expanse of his stomach. I don't care that he's a little different. If I'm picking apart all the ways that we're different, his pointy ears would freak me out, but I just think they're cute.

I can't wait to spend more time with Kazex tonight. Alone. Just the two of us and a piercing gun and my naked boobs. I wonder if it's possible to climax from getting pierced. I wonder if Kaz is going to find the thought of piercing me half as erotic as I do. It's not the piercing itself that turns me on. I've had plenty of them that did nothing for me. It's that I'm exposing myself to him, giving myself over to his control. For some reason that just absolutely trips my trigger.

I hope he needs my nipples hard for the piercing because they've been hard all day. This is insane, but it also feels...strangely right? Exhilarating?

I don't know how I manage to get through the rest of the day, but I do. I finish my work. I have dinner with my sisters. Spend time with Ruth and let her trim my hair while we discuss her pregnancy. Ruth-Ann is in the mess hall kitchen, baking something and snarling to herself, and rebuffs all offers of help. Whatever her project is, she wants to work on it on her own. 

Once I leave Ruth's side, I join the sticks game in progress, but they break up soon after I sit down. The crew hangs out instead, watching an old vid of a classic gladiator match, and I curl up on one of the oversized sofas while Kazex sprawls right next to me. We're not quite “together,” but...it's close. I'm incredibly aware of his nearness.

The others peel off from the group slowly. Dopekh and Salvotor go to spar in the gym. Sakkar wants to check on the seedlings he's been growing. Zaemen heads for bridge duty, changing places with Erzah. Aithar and Jerzec decide to head into Port with the now-off-duty Erzah to “scope out the rival cantina.”

"You two want to come?" Erzah asks. "Be fun to get out."

I yawn exaggeratedly. "I'm going to make it an early night."

Erzah looks over at Kazex.

Kaz just shrugs. "I've got some boots I have to, uh, shine."

"You're shining boots? This late at night?" Jerzec makes a face, leaning over Erzah's shoulder. "What the kef kind of lame-ass excuse is that?"

Aithar clears his throat, looking embarrassed. He glances over at me. "Guys⁠—"

Erzah mimics the goofy face that Jerzec is making, and for a moment, it's like I'm seeing double. Neither of them has tattoos on their faces, and they look incredibly similar in that moment. It's a little jarring—and amusing. "Don't be like that, Kaz. You used to be fun."

"Guys," Aithar says again. "Leave him be⁠—"

Jerzec bounds over to Kaz's side, leaning in close and examining his hair. "Do we need to check you for grays?"

Kazex slaps his hand away. "Kef off. I'm allowed to organize my boots."

"I thought you said you were shining them," Erzah points out.

"Guys," Aithar says again, more pointedly. He grabs Erzah by the arm and pulls him toward the door, looking like a kid brother amongst his older siblings. "Let it go. Him and Ruthie want to be alone together. Do they have to keffing spell it out?"

All eyes turn to me.

"Oh, kef me," Jerzec says. "Is this some kinky sex game?"

"What?" I yelp, sitting straighter on the couch. "No! I'm just going to sleep⁠—"

But they're on my lies like bloodhounds on a trail. Suddenly I have three clones in my face, studying my expression.

"Look at her cheeks," Erzah says.

"And she won't make eye contact," Jerzec points out. "Definitely a kinky sex game."

"Sweet," Erzah says. "Can we watch?"

"All of you, kef off," Kazex leans forward and pushes Jerzec away with a hand planted to his forehead. He does the same for Erzah, and Aithar slides out of the way before it can be his turn. "No one's watching anything."

"But you're not denying it's a kinky sex game," says Erzah.

"It's not a kinky sex game," I protest. "Tell them, Kaz."

"Go away," is all he says to them, and I make a sound of aggravation. When I give him a pointed look, he adds, "Go have a drink on us."

They burst into laughter and tease us a bit more before heading out of the rec room and leaving us behind. I can hear them talking loudly as they head for the ship exit, and I swear it's like living in a frat house sometimes, being on board this ship. Better yet, it's like being in a house full of annoying little brothers.

Except I don't think very brotherly things about Kazex. I shoot him a look. "Why didn't you shut them down?"

"Who cares if they think we're having sex? Is that so bad? We sleep together already. We've been sharing a room for months. They already think we're a thing."

My face grows hotter, and I resist the urge to tug on the piercings in my too-warm ears. I've heard hints and teasing before that Kaz and I were together, but it's never been so blatant. Tomorrow it'll be all over the ship and...

And so what? It's not as if I'm not interested. I glance over at Kazex. He remains in his spot on the couch, sprawled out as if he owns it, his legs stretched in front of him. One arm moved along the back of the couch at some point, right behind me. Like he's claiming me.

I don't protest any of it. That warm, fluttery feeling of delight is sweeping over me again. I've been waiting all day for this fricking moment and I'm so on edge with anticipation that if he so much as touches my hand, I might spontaneously combust.

But he just gives me a slow, languid smile. "Did you want to go with them?"

Oh, I realize I didn't answer him. "No, I want to do my piercing while everyone's gone or occupied. You ready?"

He nods once. "Let's go."

My hands are sweaty—and my nipples pricked—as we walk down the hall to the med-bay as silently as possible. Sakkar's going to be so annoyed if he finds out we've been in here without him. He's fussy over the machines. I'm excited, though, and as Kazex palms the door lock to admit himself, I'm practically squirming.

"Quiet," he tells me as we step into the dark room. He flicks the lights on and turns to me, a finger to his lips. "We don't want Sakkar hearing us in here."

I nod. The absolute last thing I want is to be tits-out if Sakkar decides to swing by. I'm going to be as quiet as humanly possible. As he moves to the med-bay computer to access it, I tiptoe over to the patient table and ease myself up on it. I remove my long tunic, exposing my breasts, and I wait, breathless. I'm not completely naked. I knew we'd be sneaking out, so I'm wearing leggings. Still feel incredibly exposed, however.

Kaz taps the screen and the all-in-one med-bay machine hums to life. "All right, we..."

He trails off as he turns around and gets a look at me.

I have to admit, I find his reactions a lot of fun. I straighten my shoulders a bit more, trying my best to preen and to also not be completely obvious about it at the same time. His flummoxed stare takes away my nervousness, and then there's nothing left but anticipation.

"Everything all right?" I whisper.

Kazex clears his throat and nods. "Yes. Fine. Great. Awesome. Ready."

He takes a step toward me and angles the head of the machine, zooming in on the part of me that will need the “assistance.”

"Wait," I say as he steps in closer. "Back home someone always disinfects the skin before a piercing. And then you mark the spot to ensure it looks like it's even. Shouldn't we do that?"

His brows furrow together and he glances up at me. "Did you do that with all your other piercings?"

"Yes," I lie. Okay, I didn't, but I also did those myself with a mirror or with the help of one of my sisters. This is a little different and on a very jiggly body part.

Also—and I confess I'm terrible for wanting this—I want to see Kazex's reaction when he has to touch me.

"Right." He clears his throat again and moves across the room, pulling open a drawer and pulling out some of the ultra-soft woven plas that's used in place of gauze. He digs around in the bottles on a nearby tray until he finds one and picks it up triumphantly. "Disinfectant."

"Perfect." I straighten again and cup my right breast. "Let's start with this one."

He turns around, his gaze going to where I clutch my breast, and a hungry sound escapes him.

I give him a bright, innocent smile. "I'll hold my breast still for you and you can wipe it down."

Kaz makes another incoherent sound that might be assent, and then he moves the cloth reverently over my breast. He takes care to go over the nipple repeatedly, and I hold my breath. I'm turned on by his hungry focus and by the gentle touches. I knew this moment would be erotically charged, but I don't think I realized just how much it'd make me ache. I hunger for him, for more touches. For him to put his mouth on my nipple instead of the cloth. I want him to take control of the moment and push me down onto the table and claim me as his.

He doesn't, though. And I'm strangely disappointed.

"You want me to mark you?" he asks, voice husky.

When I nod, he digs through Sakkar's tools again and looks for something that will leave a print on my skin. He does and then steps back to admire his work. "Like that?"

I'm glad I asked, because he's marked my nipple in a North-South manner instead of an East-West like I'd envisioned. "Not quite? I was thinking across, not up and down."

"Right." Kazex reaches out and brushes the mark off my skin. Like he's not even thinking about it.

My nipple immediately hardens and I gasp at his touch.

He withdraws, eyes hooded as his hand hovers over my naked breast. "You want to do it?"

Do I? I consider for a moment, then shake my head. "You can do it. I was just...startled."

Startled at how good it felt. Of course it feels good. It's literally Kazex toying with my nipples. Our eyes meet before he reaches out and brushes his fingers over my nipple again. My pussy clenches, and I've never had a more erotic moment than staring him in the eye as he rubs the sides of my nipple clean of the mark he'd put there not moments ago.

Why, oh why did I think this was a good idea? He doesn’t look half as affected as I am.

And yet…I know he is. I know Kazex and I know that this has to be making him crazy on the inside. I can read just about everyone but Kaz. His only tell is that he has no tell. He makes himself carefully blank.

I’m dying to break through that blankness.

“So…left to right?” he asks, voice utterly neutral as he picks up the pen to mark my skin again.

I nod and, when he leans close, move just enough to give my breast a little jiggle. “Can I ask you something while you’re down there?”

His gaze flicks back up to me. “What?”

“Do you think my breasts are uneven? I think the one on the right is bigger than the one on the left.”

Kazex inhales slowly. His gaze remains focused on my tits, and then he carefully marks one side of my nipple in the spot we discussed. “I think they’re both perfect and you know that.”

“But do you think one’s bigger⁠—”

“Quit moving.”

Am I moving? I try to hold still, but it’s tricky. I’m practically panting with arousal, and he’s bent over my breast, concentrating as he marks the other side. “I just wanted a second opinion.”

“You know I think you’re flawless.”

Flawless. What a word. I don’t think anyone has ever called me “flawless” before. I’m stunned into silence. Flawless, huh? In his eyes, I’m perfect. I have not a single fault. He would change nothing, because I’m flawless. I’ve never wanted to jump a man so much in my entire life, all over a single word.

He makes a satisfied sound in his throat and straightens, studying my breast with a critical eye. “I think they’re even. Take a look and let me know if you like it?”

“Is there a mirror?” My voice is husky with arousal.

Kaz looks around. “Don’t see one.”

“I trust you.”

“Ruthie—”

“I trust you,” I repeat again. The urge to touch him is almost overpowering. I want to clasp his face in my hands and gaze into his eyes for hours. I don’t know what it is about this moment, but I’m wavering between being intensely romantic and incredibly turned on. It’s never been like this with my other piercings or I’d be completely studded on every inch of skin by now. “Do what you think is best. I know you won’t let me down.”

My words hit a mark. His nostrils flare and his gaze flicks to my face before he reaches down to brush his fingertips over my nipple one more time.

I suck in a breath. Yes. This is what I’ve been waiting for. Touch me.

But he only beams me a bright smile. “Ready?”

Disappointment flares, but I paste a smile on my face. “Sure.”

He carefully fits the bit of metal I’ve selected for my piercing into the end of the “gun” and then places it against my nipple. The prongs feel cold and my skin prickles with awareness. I’ve used this thing before. While the med-bay will do a lot of things independently, there’s also a hand-held suturing “gun” of sorts that can be used for tricky spots. The head has been slightly modified for my piercing obsession and will punch the metal through my skin cleanly.

I could do it myself.

I just don’t want to.

Kazex glances back up at me again. Our eyes meet and a hot little thrill snakes down my spine. His gaze flickers down, and in the next moment, a hot, sweet piercing sensation flashes through my nipple.

I gasp aloud and automatically reach for Kazex, my nails digging into the fabric of his uniform. “Oh god.”

He pulls the gun away. “Looks like a clean piercing. You okay, Ruthie?”

My lungs heave and I manage a nod. How do I tell him I almost came just a moment ago? That everything in me clenched in anticipation, only to be let down when nothing happened? If he would have touched me, said a single word, anything—I would have orgasmed right then and there.

“You’ve got a bit of blood,” he says, voice strangely tight. “Here.”

A moment later I’m holding a bit of gauze, wet with disinfectant, and Kazex immediately turns and leaves the room.

Puzzled, I put the cold gauze to my hot, aching nipple. Was he grossed out over actually piercing me? I hadn’t taken him for the type to have a weak stomach. I glance down at my new piercing, and there’s two tiny studs on both sides of my nipple. They feel enormous and pulsing, which is amusing considering how small they are. It looks good, though. Nice and even and pretty⁠—

“Haahhhh.”

The sound—more of a breathless rasp than anything—comes from the lavatory attached to the med-bay.

Where Kazex retreated to.

A grunt follows.

Oooh, he’s not grossed out. He’s jerking off.

I clench my thighs together, delighted and horny. I love that he’s jerking off. I wish he hadn’t left, though. Did he not want me to know? It seems odd—and disappointing—after this morning. I liked watching him touch himself then. I debate going to interrupt (and watch), but I don’t want him to feel like I’m intruding. I wasn’t invited this time.

Waiting for him to emerge feels like an eternity. I hop off the table and disinfect my new piercing, then cover it with a plas-film bandage and slip my shirt back on. My nipple still feels as if it’s throbbing and protruding despite the layers of material. I’d heard that nipple piercings were more sensitive, but this is a whole new, fascinating level.

And I’m really, really glad I didn’t ask Sakkar to help me.

Water runs in the next room, and I mentally envision Kazex washing his hands. Sure enough, he emerges a moment later, shaking the excess water free from his hands. His clothes are fastened like normal, but his hair is a little wild and there’s a glassy look in his eyes that I recognize from this morning.

“All done?” I chirp.

“Hope he doesn’t drink out of that sink,” Kaz mumbles. He runs a hand down the front of his uniform, checking the auto-fastener. He looks surprised to see me dressed, and gestures at my shirt. “You don’t want to do the other breast?”

“You seem distracted. One is probably best right now anyhow. I can see how I like it.” I shrug, going to cross my arms and then brushing against my nipple and hissing to myself at the sharp stab that lances through my tit. Whoops. I lower my arms, keeping my hands to my sides. Feels weird. “Are you okay?”

Kaz rakes a hand through his hair and the look he gives me is sheepish and adorable and makes me hurt with wanting. “I just…you know how I feel about you. Sometimes it overwhelms me. I had to take care of business.”

You know how I feel about you.

“I know…but why did you leave?”

He grimaces and moves to my side, picking up the disinfectant and ripping open a packet. He holds it out to me and when I shake my head, puts it away. “I have a hard time with control. I thought it would get better once the drugs were out of my system. It was for a while, but being around you makes my cock spring up like a tsaanti.”

“A what now?”

He flicks a finger into the air like he’s pointing. “Snake. They pop their heads up out of the grasses of their home planet. Good eating, though.”

I curl my hand around that one pointing finger of his. “I don’t want you to feel embarrassed for wanting me.”

“Yes, but you said you wanted to go slow. To take as much time as you need. I don’t want you to feel pressured by my needs. Because if we’re being honest? I’m always in need when it comes to you.”

I love hearing that. I move toward him, grabbing a fistful of his uniform and tugging him toward me. “Will you give me a kiss, then? Show me just how much you need…?”

“Right now?”

“Right now,” I agree. “Because I’m feeling it, too.”

He moves closer, his hand skimming along the line of my face. He leans in⁠—

“What the kef is going on here?” The door swishes open and Sakkar steps into the room.

Oof. Busted.

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

KAZEX

I could cheerfully strangle Sakkar for his keffing awful timing. Just when I have Ruthie in my arms, ready to kiss, he saunters in and gets all hostile because we were using the medical equipment. Keffing hells, the man cannot read the room.

Ruthie all but races back to our quarters and I’m left with a moody, too-nosy Sakkar. I stay and clean up the equipment, tidying things and trying to ignore him, but all I can think about is how he ruined my moment with Ruthie. Something tells me I’m not going to get it back tonight.

During the piercing? She was into it. Into me. I could tell she was aroused. I don’t need the heightened senses the praxiians have. I have eyes. I could see it on her face, in the little gaspy breaths she made. The way she played with the piercing on her lip with the tip of her tongue⁠—

“I don’t get why you’d sneak in here,” Sakkar complains as I swipe down the counters with disinfectant. “You could have asked me. I would have given you permission.”

I grit my teeth, because I’m not asking Sakkar for permission for anything. I’m not going to ask permission to give my female a piercing. It’s not his machine. Sure, Dopekh broke one in the past. Sure, Salvotor tends to abuse it and our supplies. Tonight is not the time.

“If there’s a medical issue I need to be aware of, let me know.”

“No issue.”

He doesn’t get the hint. “Tell Ruthie I’m happy to look her over if she has health concerns⁠—”

“Just keffing shut it, already, Sakkar. It’s handled.”

“Hmph. Clearly it wasn’t with the way she ran out of the room. As for the machines, I’m not telling you not to use them. I’m just thinking of the maintenance…”

I toss down the disinfectant cloth and give up. I do not want to hear it from him, not tonight. Not with Ruthie’s wet, red lips on my mind and her little gasps still ringing in my ears. I abandon the med-bay with Sakkar’s griping following me out into the hall. It’s late. She’s probably already asleep in bed, because it’s a good way to avoid conversation. I’ll just head to sleep on the floor and try not to think about my throbbing cock. Or Ruthie’s lips.

Or the noises she makes. Kef me, the noises.

When I open the door to our quarters as quietly as possible, I’m surprised to see that the lights are dim but not entirely off. Ruthie sits up in bed the moment I come in.

“Did I wake you?” I ask. “Sorry. I was trying to be quiet.”

“I was waiting for you.” Her smile is shy. “Will you sleep in the bed with me again? I sleep better when you’re next to me.”

How can I refuse? My aching heart won’t let me. I nod and undress quickly, getting ready for bed.

When I climb in next to her, I notice she’s wearing a heavier tunic than the one she normally picks, and a shoulder strap peeks out from the loose collar. “Is the piercing bothering you?”

“It’s really sensitive,” she whispers, settling into bed next to me. She carefully puts her back to my front and then pulls my arm to her waist. “I’m going to be sleeping in my bra for the next while, I think.”

“Bra?” I don’t know what that is.

She reaches up to her shoulder and nudges the slender strap there. “They’re kind of like breast harnesses? Popular back on Earth. I don’t wear them much here but Ruth-Ann likes them and she had me one created on the clothing printer. I shoved some padding in there to cradle my piercing.”

“Do you need some numbing ointment? I can go back to med-bay⁠—”

“No, I’m fine. I just want to go to sleep.” She buries her face under the blankets. “And possibly never look Sakkar in the eye again.”

The moment is definitely gone. I bite back the urge to growl, pat her hip, and settle down for another long night.

It’s early when Ruthie awakens me with a whimper. I immediately jerk awake, alert. “Lights on.” A quick glance shows that Ruthie is on her back, cradling her pierced breast with her hand. Her brows are drawn together in pain.

“Okay, it hurts a little right now,” she admits, wincing. “I think I rolled on it in my sleep. Sorry I woke you—go back to sleep. It’s not even dawn yet.”

“I don’t mind that you woke me.” I touch her shoulder, unsure where to touch her where it won’t cause her pain or be awkward. I end up patting her twice and then pulling away. “Let me grab some numbing ointment from med-bay.”

She makes a face. “Is Sakkar going to give you grief?”

“Not if he knows what’s good for him.” I impulsively lean down and brush a kiss over her forehead. “Wait here. I’ll take care of you.”

A surprised look crosses her face but she nods, relaxing back in bed. I slept in my trou, so there’s no need to get dressed. Padding down the hall as quietly as possible, I think about Ruthie. Ruthie and the look of startled pleasure on her face when I gave her that forehead kiss. Why didn’t I think of giving her forehead kisses before? I’ve seen Ruth and Lord Straik holding hands and giving each other quick mouth-on-skin kisses. They’re not the same as the intense mouth-to-mouth ones, but are far more frequent in public. Perhaps Ruthie needs that from me?

Perhaps I’ll offer more forehead kisses after I put ointment on her breast for her.

Luckily Sakkar isn’t camped out in med-bay, growling over the use of the machine last night. I snatch the tube of quick-healing salve and race back down the hall, imagining the noises Ruthie will make as I rub it onto her nipple for her. My cock is hard and aching by the time I return to our quarters.

No sooner do I make it through the door and hold up the tube triumphantly than the comm chirps.

I glance over at the time display on the comm station. Five in the morning. “I have to get that,” I explain to Ruthie. “It might be an emergency from Lord Straik.”

“Of course,” she says, and takes the tube from my hand. “You get that and I’ll tend to myself in the bathroom.”

I try to hide my crushing disappointment. So much for my visions of gliding my fingers over her breast, soothing her with my touch. Of the sweet moans she’d make, telling me that I’m taking such good care of her. “Of course.”

Keffing comm. Keffing timing.

When Ruthie disappears into the lavatory and the comm chirps a second time, I move to the panel and slap my hand down on it to activate it. Erzah’s face fills my screen and I feel like snarling. “What?”

“Good morning, sunshine,” he says cheerfully. “I’m going into town bright and early this morning to meet with the custodians about buying that vacant building. I figured I’d ask you to come along since you’re the head of security and I’m going to be haggling. I need someone that looks like they’ll take no shit from anyone.”

I run a hand down my face. Normally I’d say yes right away, but Ruthie… “What about Salvotor? Or Dopekh?”

He seems surprised that I don’t immediately volunteer. Normally I would. But normally Ruthie doesn’t let me touch her breasts, either. “Oh. Uh, I guess I could comm them and ask. But you’re better with bargaining than they are and I’d feel better with someone business savvy at my back.”

I don’t know that I’m business savvy, but I understand what he’s saying. Dopekh is a romantic with his head in the clouds. Salvotor is impulsive and gives everything away with his expression. Neither one is good at haggling. Or at our nightly sticks games. “No, I’ll come. Give me five to get dressed.”

“Thanks, brother. I’m putting on the night tea right now. I’ll make it super-strong, too.”

I make a face but Erzah clicks away before he sees my expression. Erzah likes his caffeine strong enough to scorch metal. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to put him in charge of the morning brew, but at least I’ll be awake. I just hate that he needs me. I swear, it’s like the entire crew is conspiring to keep me and Ruthie apart.

Scrubbing my hand over my features, I fish my clothes off of the floor and get dressed while I wait for Ruthie to emerge from the lavatory.

She does a short time later, patting her newly-pierced breast. “Does this look overly padded to you?” She pauses as she watches me pull on a boot. “Wait, you’re dressed. Are you leaving?”

“Erzah needs muscle to head into Port with him for negotiating,” I tell her. “I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can. Unless you need me to stay?”

Ruthie waves a hand. “No, go with him. He’s been talking about this cantina for forever. If this is his dream, help him with it.”

Wait, he’s been talking about a cantina forever? Where have I been?

Oh, right. I’ve been obsessed with Ruthie. I wonder what other information has passed me by while I keep my focus on her. “Maybe we can have lunch together?”

“Maybe.” Her expression looks cagey, as if she doesn’t want to commit to something as small as lunch, and my heart sinks. Even though we’ve been friends for months now, she still panics. She struggles with saying what she truly wants, and struggles even more with making decisions. Most of the time I avoid it by stating things directly instead of turning them into a question. Any time someone asks Ruthie to make a choice, she panics.

I won’t press her, though. I understand. Trauma shows up in different ways for everyone. “It’s all right. We can skip lunch.”

She flinches as if she realizes something. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Waffling.”

“It’s just lunch.”

Ruthie bites her lip. “I just…” She plays with the piercing in her lip, agitated. “I just…I don’t know the answer I want to give!”

“It’s all right⁠—”

“It’s not,” she says miserably. “At times like this, I wish I had a coin to flip.”

“A…coin?”

“Human version of credits,” she tells me, her voice full of self-loathing. “We flip a coin to decide when we can’t.”

“You want me to find you one of these coins?”

“No. Just forget I said anything.” She gives me a weak smile and moves back to the bed.

She won’t even ask me for this one thing, and it feels like defeat. How do I get her to want more from me?

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

KAZEX

“You seem like you’re in a bad mood,” Ruth-Ann tells me as we walk down the main street of Port. She remains at my side, even though she could walk ahead a few steps with Erzah, and pokes my arm. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” I say, putting on a brave face. Erzah is practically strutting down the street, his excitement about the new building palpable. I don’t want to ruin this for him. He’s having a good day and I want that for him. I want this to be the best keffing day of his life. I just need to keep my grumpiness to myself.

I don’t even mind that Ruth-Ann tagged along. Of the three “sisters,” she’s the quietest one. She wanted to join us in our excursion into Port, and gave Erzah a kidney punch when he teased her about wanting to see the pretty baker with the lousy bread. We’ve promised to stop by the bakery cart after Erzah concludes his business meeting, and until then, we’ll be security for him.

Ruth-Ann won’t let me off the hook, though. She tucks her bobbed hair behind her ears and gives me an astute look. “Something’s bothering you. You know you can talk to me. I won’t say anything to my sisters.”

Grimacing, I glance ahead at the whistling Erzah, who is practically jaunting to the Port Custodial Offices for his meeting. I’m told that Lord Straik offered to come along, but Erzah wants to conduct this business on his own. He’s got the happiest swagger in his step and I really don’t want to ruin his day because I’m mooning over Ruthie. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. Today is about Erzah.”

Ruth-Ann shrugs.

We enter the custodial office and we’re greeted by a rather massive, overfed mesakkah alien who gives us a stern glare. “Can I help you with something?” His gaze settles on Ruth-Ann. “Are you in danger from these two males?”

Her lips quirk in a small smile that looks a bit like Ruthie’s and yet nothing like it at the same time. She gestures at Erzah. “No danger at all. I’m just accompanying my friend.”

Erzah pays no attention to his dour greeting. He shoves his hand out in the friendly human handshake that Ruth-Ann has instructed him on. “Greetings! I have come to purchase a building. Are you Sinath?”

The huge alien grunts. “That’s not me. I’m Rektar. Sinath is down the hall.” He points down at the far end of the custodial office and then moves back to his desk. We turn and head after Erzah, only for Rektar to immediately come after us. “Just one of you, not all three.”

“But they are my bodyguards.”

“Why?”

“So I can haggle?” He pats the bag of credits at his hip.

Rektar frowns, shaking his head slowly. “You’re filing a building permit. The businesses here are only granted at Lord va’Rin’s discretion. As long as a custodian feels your business has benefit to the humans here, it’ll be granted.”

“Then how do I pay for my building?”

Rektar snorts. “Taxes.”

He pauses. “Then I do not need bodyguards?” He leans in. “I have a great deal of credits on me.”

Rektar grimaces again. “Don’t go around saying that. People are going to think you’re trying to buy a wife.” He gives Erzah a nudge down the hall, to where another harried-seeming mesakkah in a custodial uniform is sitting at a desk with a mountain of binders resting on it. “Tell him your business and that you want a permit. Your guards can wait out here.”

Erzah pauses and looks to me for advice. I know what he’s thinking, because I’m thinking the same thing. But the odds that there are assassins in that room are very low. Not zero, but low. Even so, I have weapons on me and I can keep an eye on Erzah in the meeting room.

I nod. “We will guard your back from here.”

Erzah shoots me a relieved look and bounds down the hall, to where the harried Sinath waits with the paperwork. He thumps down into the desk across from the custodian, and their low murmurs drift down the hall. Rektar eyes us, points at the chairs in the waiting area, and then moves back to his desk. He uncovers a container filled with fluffy-looking cakes and takes a huge bite out of one.

“Did you get those from the baker?” Ruth-Ann asks.

“No. My wife.” And he takes another bite.

Ruth-Ann settles into one of the chairs. She glances over at me. “Figures. They looked too tasty to be her goods.”

“Be nice,” I murmur, and sit down next to her. Even from here, I can see Erzah talking animatedly to the custodian. I’ll be able to watch for assassins after all. “You are too hard on the human baker. She’s doing her best.”

“I’ve tried to advise her on how to properly bake things but she won’t listen.” Ruth-Ann slouches in the seat, sprawling her legs out in front of her and then delicately crossing them at the ankles. “She’s stubborn as a goat.”

Well, I sure don’t know anyone like that. “Mmmhmm.”

“Oh, shut up.” Her cheeks flush and she tucks her hair behind her ears again. “Like you’re the king of romance.”

“I am most definitely not the king. Not even a lord. More like…what’s lower than dirt?”

“Wow, that bad, huh?” She eyes me. “But Ruthie’s so sweet and she’s clearly hung up on you.”

I shake my head, because it’s not that simple. “She likes me, but she is not ready for more. I have told her that I will wait until she is ready.”

Instead of congratulating me on being the most patient of males, Ruth-Ann hmmphs.

“Why ‘hmmph’?” I demand. “Why is that bad?”

“Oh, it’s not bad. It’s very sweet but very misguided,” Ruth-Ann tells me. “You’re giving Ruthie control of the situation. You know how she does with that. Ruthie’s a chicken. You need to quit asking her what to do and just, you know, take control.”

I rear back, appalled. “You are saying I should force her?”

“The fuck?!” Ruth-Ann hisses at me, smacking my shoulder. “When did I ever say that? And keep your voice down!”

We both shoot a look over at Rektar, but he’s busy enjoying his little cakes.

“But you just said⁠—”

“I said you need to quit asking her,” Ruth-Ann leans in, whispering. “You ask her what she thinks, and then Ruthie starts thinking, and then she gets paralyzed with what-ifs.”

This makes a strange amount of sense. It is her post-traumatic stress that makes her struggle with decisions, and yet I keep leaving our relationship—us—in her hands. “Ruthie is an excellent overthinker, this is true.”

Ruth-Ann shifts in her seat, leaning towards me. “I’m not saying you do anything that she doesn’t want to do. I’m saying quit putting all responsibility in her hands. Take some initiative.”

“I would love to, but I do not know how to go about it,” I confess. “A’ani are not trained in the wooing of females.” If anything, we’re trained to ignore them as much as possible. That they’re not for us.

“If you want my advice,” Ruth-Ann continues, “you establish a special word.”

“A special word,” I echo, trying to understand what she means.

She nods. “A word that doesn’t come up in regular conversation. Like, say, ‘noodle.’ If you’re getting intimate and one of you says ‘noodle,’ then that tells the other person ‘I’m not having fun anymore and I want to stop.’”

“Then why wouldn’t you simply say ‘stop’?”

Ruth-Ann pats my hand. “Because sometimes what we say in bed isn’t what we truly mean.”

That…makes no sense. “So I should not listen when she says I should stop? Only when she says ‘noodle’?” I lean in close, whispering. “What if we’re in the dining hall and someone else says ‘noodle’?”

She closes her eyes and then opens them again, her expression chagrined. “Listen. You two decide on a word for just the two of you. It’s a word that means the ultimate safety, okay? That no matter what is being said, this ultimate word means we’re stopping everything. What the word is doesn’t matter as long as the two of you know it. You’re getting hung up on details. What I’m trying to tell you is that you establish this word, and then you take charge. You quit asking her what she wants and you tell her what you’re doing, instead.”

“Aha,” I say wisely, as if this answers everything. It doesn’t, but I don’t want Ruth-Ann to think I’m stupid.

She shakes her head, waving a hand. “You’re not getting it. If you wanted to give Ruthie a hug, what would you do?”

I wonder if this is a trick question. “I…would ask her if I can hug her?”

“Exactly. And then Ruthie will start thinking about it.” She twirls a finger in the air near her ear. “And her brain is going to go into overdrive trying to think through all the possible ways this could be bad or good. It’s going to make her freeze up and she won’t be able to decide for herself, so she’s just going to say no.”

I stare at Ruth-Ann, stunned. It feels as if she is accurately describing my relationship with Ruthie, all right. I reach for her and she hesitates. “So what do I do?”

“It’s how you frame it.” She gestures at me. “I’ll be you, and you be Ruthie. Okay? Now the topic of the hug comes up again.”

I brace myself, trying to be Ruthie, trying to think like the female I love.

Ruth-Ann puts a hand on mine and looks me in the eye. “Ruthie, I would really love to hug you right now. If that’s not okay, tell me ‘noodle.’”

I wait for the big secret.

She leans back. “That’s it. That’s how you ask.”

“That’s…all there is?”

She nods. “You tell her what you’re doing and ask if she’d like to participate. She can opt out if she wants, but if you’re presenting it to her as something that you’re doing, it takes the responsibility out of it for her. It’s not on her shoulders to decide. The only thing she has to decide is if she wants to participate or not.”

It seems too simple. “And you’re certain this will work?”

For the first time in our conversation, Ruth-Ann falters. “Well, no. I’m not a hundred percent sure. But Ruthie is like me in a lot of ways and I overthink everything, too. And a lot of the time, I really wish the person I liked would just walk up to me and attack me with kisses.”

Huh.

“I’m not saying you force her into anything,” Ruth-Ann continues. “Just quit giving her the opportunity to think things through. Force her to think with her gut.”

And attack her with kisses…after I get permission, of course.

But I’m not asking for permission. I’m demanding to know if she’s interested. I suppose that’s the difference. Asking versus demanding. And Ruth-Ann seems to think one will work better with Ruthie than the other.

I think about when we were together in the med-bay and she sat on the table and watched me while I took care of her. There was a look of such intense longing and yearning on her face, and she practically vibrated as if she wanted…something.

What if she doesn’t know how to answer when I ask? Is that what the problem is?

I will have to consider this carefully. The last thing I want is to push Ruthie into a situation that she feels uncomfortable in. I need her to be comfortable with noodling.

Kef, I hope Ruth-Ann is right.

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

KAZEX

After we leave the custodial office, Ruth-Ann peels off to go wander around town. Erzah and I pause in front of the unassuming storefront that will soon be his, and I'm impressed at Erzah's ambition. This place looks like nothing to me, but when he looks at it, he sees a cantina. I appreciate that he dreams big. Well, bigger than me, anyhow. I like who I am and the job I do. The only thing I yearn for is Ruthie to finally hold a hand out to me.

But I'm content to wait.

Mostly.

Some days it's hard and I feel lonely even surrounded by my companions. Today, though, it's all about Erzah and his beaming smile as he stares at the nondescript building. "So this is yours," I say, grinning at him. "Congratulations."

"Not yet, but it will be soon." His gaze isn't on me but the future cantina. "The custodians said they have to file permits and then an inspector is going to check out the building and make sure no one's done anything to it since it was declared empty."

"Done anything to it?" I echo. "Like what?"

He shrugs. "Apparently they had issues with contraband and squatters before the custodians were brought in. Custodian Ainar said it wasn't a big deal. Just that it'd take a few more days and then I'll be given the key code."

Then he turns to me and gives me an expectant look.

Uh oh. "What?"

"Brother..."

Oh no. Nothing good ever comes of a sentence that starts like that. "What is it?"

"I need your help getting the cantina up and running. I'm going to need someone reliable at my side, and you'd be the best bouncer imaginable."

Help him run the cantina? "You've already got plenty of help."

Erzah winces. "Yeah, I've got Jerzec, who will start more fights than he'll stop. I've got Aithar, who's completely green and doesn't know anything outside of the Scarlet Gaze. And I've got Zaemen, who was supposed to be with us today, but..."

"Forgot," I agree. Yeah, Zaemen tends to forget everything. He gets lost in his own little world sometimes. He's easily distracted by a lot of things, and especially distracted by pretty human females. The three of them do well with Lord Straik to keep them in line, but given free rein...? It could get messy fast.

"Right. Which is why I'm asking you." Erzah's look is one of quiet desperation. "It'd just be for a few months. Just until things get settled in and I can see how the others are handling new responsibilities. I need someone steady at my side. Someone I can count on. The others will listen to you. I can boss them around all day long and they'll ignore me, but the moment you say something, they listen."

I rub my jaw, torn. It's not that I don't want to help him out. Getting the cantina off the ground with him and the others could be a lot of fun, and I've been curious about what'll be next for all of us. Lord Straik isn't going to run a pirate ship any longer, which means he won't need more than a few hands to keep things running. I haven't decided what I'm going to do.

Mostly because of Ruthie. Wherever she goes, I want to go. My place is at her side. "I can't abandon Ruthie."

"You're not abandoning her," Erzah pleads. "It's just for a few months. She'll be on the ship with Lord Straik and Lady Ruth. There's nowhere safer for her."

He's not wrong. It's just that...I won't be there at her side. What if she needs me? True, she'll be with them, but I'm the one that guards over her. I'm the one that soothes her nightmares. "It's just that...I've sworn to be at her side."

"You think the others would let anything happen to her?"

"Well...no..."

"And haven't we a'ani sworn to help each other? To look after one another like we're brothers?" He puts his hands on my shoulders. "I am asking you to help me now. Just for a little while. You think a perfectly safe Ruthie can spare you for that long?"

When he puts it that way, it seems foolish not to help him. "I guess."

And Erzah does need me. We a'ani crew have sworn to have each other's backs, just because no one will look out for an a'ani quite like another a'ani. I'm responsible to help him. Over the years, we have promised that we'd help each other out. Erzah never asks for anything.

So I nod and clasp the hand he holds out for me. "When you're ready to open this place up, I'll be with you."

Even if I'll hate every moment apart from Ruthie.

CHAPTER

TWENTY

RUTHIE

My breast is driving me crazy. Absolutely freaking crazy.

It’s not that it’s painful. The numbing cream that Kaz got for me actually speeds healing, so it’s actually feeling good right now. It’s that the piercing has made my nipple super, ultra-sensitive. Every time it rubs up against something, it sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body.

And because my nipple is now more prominent thanks to the piercing, it’s rubbing up against everything. It makes the day pass unbelievably slowly, because I can’t concentrate. My breast is on my mind at all times, and so is Kazex.

He was going to rub my breast for me this morning. He was going to kiss me last night. Both times we got interrupted, and both times I retreated away instead of asking him to kiss me anyhow. To tell the others to fuck off and leave us alone. Instead, I let him leave, and I’ve been kicking myself. Why is it I turn into a coward the moment things get romantic with us?

I want him to kiss me. I’m terrified of what will happen, but I do want to kiss him. I just don’t know how to get past this mental block that makes me so relieved when we get interrupted.

Instead of working on my mesakkah-language primer so I can read the screens on the ship, I daydream instead, staring off into the sunset while sitting at the comms table on the bridge. Dopekh is there, too, working his scheduled shift, but things are quiet. Things are always quiet now that we’ve parked on Risda III for a while. The weather is nice and the fresh food is awesome, but I know some of the guys are getting restless. Lord Straik hasn’t said what his long-term plans are yet, now that his wife Ruth is pregnant and he’s under increased scrutiny due to his mother’s arrest. A few of the a’ani crew are speculating that the ship will dock permanently and Lord Straik will give up the pirate life he’s been living.

I think that’s why Erzah is so excited about having a business of his own. He’s thinking ahead to the future.

It’s something I’m bad at. The whole “future” thing. Just wondering what comes next paralyzes me. What if⁠—

The comm chirps, interrupting my thoughts. I glance over at Dopekh. “You want me to get that?”

He nods.

I click on the button to accept the incoming comm and Erzah’s voice blasts through the bridge. “It’s mine!”

“Congratulations,” I call out, even as Dopekh rushes over. He taps another button to add visuals, and then we’re looking at Erzah’s face on screen. He’s radiant with happiness, his smile so wide it looks as if it’ll reach his ears.

Kazex’s face shoves into the picture as he grabs Erzah from behind and hauls him into the air, like a football player who just scored the winning goal. Erzah laughs brightly and the picture bobs, briefly showing Ruth-Ann’s amused face.

“We’re going drinking to celebrate and to spy on the competition,” Erzah announces. “Tell everyone to come down to Port!”

“It’s early,” I protest, laughing. “It’s barely even lunchtime!”

“So come down and have lunch and then we’ll go drinking,” Erzah says. The feed bobs again and Erzah straightens. Kaz shows up in the picture again, beaming with pride at Erzah and slaps him on the back, and my heart flutters at how handsome Kazex is.

I almost kissed that gorgeous man last night.

The feed ends and then Dopekh gives a huge sigh.

My skin prickles. Uh oh. Is…is Dopekh still in love with Kazex? I thought he was over him, but that sigh definitely has my senses on alert. “You okay?”

“I’m on duty,” he says woefully. “I can’t go drinking.”

I hold back a sigh of relief and smile at him. “It sounds like we’ll be there for a while? Who’s taking over for you later?”

“Sakkar.”

“Well, you know he’s probably not going to be drinking. Ask him to come take your shift early and join the fun.”

He brightens. “Are you heading down?”

“Soon.” Right after I fix my hair and makeup and find some way to pad my pierced nipple a bit more.

I don’t manage to make it down until after lunch. Part of it is because I don’t want to seem too eager to rejoin Kazex, and the other part is because Ruth is having a bad pregnancy sickness morning. I end up keeping her company while she hugs the toilet and alternately sips water. When she feels well enough to take a bath, I leave her in Straik’s company and change into my cutest top and then wait for Dopekh so we can go into town together, because I don’t like going anywhere alone.

“You think Salvotor is already down there?” he asks as we ride along the motorized walkway that snakes through the space port. Most of the space port here in Risda is actually outside, and it’s nice to enjoy the sunlight and the breeze while we’re being zipped along through the massive docking bays for the spaceships.

I must be a bad person, because I’m thrilled that he’s asking about Salvotor. “Probably. You know he loves a party.”

“And people,” Dopekh agrees. “And food. And flirting.”

Poor Dopekh. He’s such a romantic that he keeps falling for people that are all wrong for him. First he fell for Kazex, because, well, who wouldn’t? And then rumor has it that he fell for Lord Straik, who is married to my sister and quite happy with her. Now he’s messed up over Salvotor. Things between them are as messy (if not more so) than they are between me and Kazex. It’s not that Salvotor doesn’t like Dopekh. I think he does. But he also likes flirting. And he likes both genders. And he really, really likes living things up whereas Dopekh is a quieter sort. I have no idea if Salvotor even knows that Dopekh is in love with him, or if he just thinks they’re a fling.

Why are relationships with a friend so damn hard? It should be easier than dating a stranger, but it’s not.

“Maybe you need to flirt with him tonight,” I offer to Dopekh. “Make sure his head doesn’t get turned.”

“It’s not that,” Dopekh says glumly. “He’s offered to be exclusive but I turned him down.”

Er, what? That doesn’t track at all. “You did?!”

He nods, looking sad and thoughtful. “He’s so new to everything. He had very little life experience when he was a gladiator. Now that he’s experiencing the wider universe, I don’t want to hold him back. So it’s better for everyone if we just, I dunno, circle back in a few years and see if we’re still interested.”

“Riiiight.” That sounds like a horrible idea, but I don’t say that aloud. I’m fairly inexperienced with this end of the universe myself. What if Kazex is trying to give me space so he doesn’t “hold me back”?

Now I’m just as depressed as Dopekh.

We’re both quiet as we head into town, no doubt both preoccupied with our relationship problems. It’s easy to find the rest of the crew, as there’s currently only one place in town to eat (other than the baking cart that drives Ruth-Ann so crazy). There’s a small cantina run by aliens that serves alien food in greasy little plas-containers and sells drinks. I don’t hang out there much because I’m much more comfortable on the ship, surrounded by people I know.

Tonight, though, all the people I know are out to have a good time. The tiny cantina is packed the moment I step inside. There’s a stink of old frying oil in the air, followed by the scent of beer. Most of the people inside the cantina are from the ship, but I notice there’s a few dockworkers, too. Praxiian ones. They’re talking with both Salvotor and Ruth-Ann, and it’s clear they’re very interested in Ruth-Ann, who isn’t interested in the slightest. Salvotor gestures wildly, telling one of his gladiator stories. I nudge Dopekh their way, but he shakes his head and goes to the bar instead.

I head for the bar, too, but I’m looking for someone specific. Someone with tattoos on the side of his face and a smile just for me. For a small place, it’s crowded. I squeeze in next to Aithar and Dopekh and touch the greasy bar-top, looking around as the alien bartender pours drinks at the other end of the bar.

“Ruthie!” An arm slings around my neck, and Erzah leans on me, drunk. “This is the best day of my life!”

Laughing, I pat his back. “Congratulations. I’m really happy for you.”

“Have you tried the fried leaves here? They’re terrible!” His voice is loud—overly so— and the bartender shoots us a nasty look. Erzah doesn’t notice, though. “And this drink is watery! Everything here is so overpriced, too!”

“You seem thrilled by all of this.”

“I am! It means we will be a success without even trying!” He beams. “This is amazing. Do you want a drink? It’s on me.”

I wince when he shouts in my ear. Erzah is a loud drunk. “One of the watered-down drinks, you mean?”

“Yes! One of those! And some of the terrible fried leaves!” He squeezes my shoulder with enthusiasm. “It is the worst food I have had across three stations! We will be rich!”

A giggle escapes me and I slide out from under his arm before the bartender decides he should spit in my drink as revenge for Erzah’s unflattering shouting. “I’m not thirsty just yet, thank you. Have you seen Kaz?”

“He’s waiting for you.” He takes a chug of his drink and then looks around the room, searching for Kazex. “I think he’s hiding.”

“He’s not hiding.” I pat his back. “I’ll go find him. Maybe slow it down on the alcohol.”

“Maybe,” he agrees cheerfully and then takes another fierce chug from his drink.

I move away from him, scanning the room. Sure enough, at a booth in the very back of the place, Kazex sits alone. There’s a full drink across from him and a half-empty one in front of him. I take a step in his direction and our eyes meet.

He smiles.

My heart flutters.

My nipples grow tight, and the pierced one sends another shockwave of pleasure through my body. Time feels as if it slows down as I approach him, his smile growing wider and warming my heart. He gazes up at me as I stand in front of the table and gesture at the drink across from him. “This seat taken?”

“I was holding it for you.” He reaches over and pulls the full drink to his side, indicating I should join him on the same seat at the booth.

I slide in next to him, tempted to press up against him and see how he reacts. But I just nudge the drink and glance around at the noisy cantina. “You’re not partying with the others?”

Kazex shrugs. “I’ve gotten drunk before. It’s all right but I wanted to be sober enough to pay attention to you.” He leans closer, his voice lowering. “How’s the soreness?”

My face immediately heats and I press my thighs tightly together. “Let’s just say it’s been distracting me all day.”

“That bad?”

“I didn’t say it was bad.” I take a sip. “It’s just been…noticeable.”

“Huh.” He watches me and then adds, “You know mesakkah get their cocks pierced. For their mates.”

The heat in my face rises. “You thinking about getting a piercing?”

Kaz grimaces. “I don’t know that I can do it. That seems like a mighty sensitive spot to put a needle near.” He pauses. “Unless that’s something you’d like.”

He’d be willing to get one just for me? I’m flattered. Even so, “I wouldn’t want you to get something you weren’t comfortable with. I just like piercings because they make me feel a little different. Like when I look in the mirror I see more of my own face than Ruth-Ann or Ruth.”

“Huh.”

His short little answer perplexes me. “What?”

“It’s funny that you see them when you look in the mirror. When I see you, all I see is you.”

I make a face at that. This is where he gives me the spiel about how we’re all clones and yadda yadda. I’ve heard it a dozen times. “You say that, but I have the same mouth as them⁠—”

Kazex shakes his head. “You have a smaller upper lip.”

“—and the same nose⁠—”

“One of your nostrils is smaller than the other.”

“And—wait! What did you just say about my nose?” My hand flies to my face, horrified. “My nostrils are different sizes?”

He laughs and taps the end of my nose. “Not noticeably by most people. But I notice everything about you. I’ve studied your face for hours on end. To me, you’re vastly different than your sisters. You don’t sound the same. You don’t move the same. You don’t act the same. I know you’re hung up on things, but trust me when I say you are unique and glorious all on your own.”

God, that beer must have really loosened him up. My blush rises at his flattering words. Either that or he’s decided to go for the hard press. Either way…I like it? Except for the whole nostril thing.

Kazex tilts his head, regarding me with a soft expression that makes my stomach flutter. “We’re going to have a word, you and I.”

“Oh? What about?”

He leans in close to me, his lips practically brushing against my ear as he whispers, “A secret word. One just for you and me. So if you don’t want me to do something, you tell me this word.”

I’m so distracted by his nearness that it takes me a moment to realize what he’s talking about. “You mean a safe word?”

He nods.

I like the idea. We’re not exactly kinky—at least not yet—but a safe word is good to have. It’ll let me put the brakes on things if it gets to be too much too soon. He’s smart for coming up with this. It’ll allow us to be comfortable with each other without pushing too hard. “Good call. What word do you want to use?”

“It has to have meaning for just the two of us.”

I think for a moment, but draw a blank. “So…what word? Any idea?”

“Ruth-Ann suggested ‘noodle.’”

He was talking to Ruth-Ann about us? Why does that bother me? “Noodle is too common.”

“Then you pick.” He gestures at me. “Whatever word you like.”

My mind goes blank. “Um…ship?”

“Too easy.”

“Piercing?”

“Too common.”

I nod agreement. I’m picking words that are terrible for what we want, but I also don’t know what word it should be. We toss a few other words around before I lean back, frustrated. “I can’t decide.”

Kazex’s eyes go wide. “Kef me. I’ve done it again.”

“Done what?” I’m confused at his response.

He gives me a sheepish look. “Made you choose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s all right.” He reaches out and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Let’s just forget about the whole word thing, all right? We’ll figure something else out.”

So now he doesn’t want to safe-word with me? Why do I feel as if I’ve vaguely disappointed him in some way? Uneasy, I sip my beer and watch the others get drunk and have a good time, but I’m too tense.

Relaxing with Kazex should be the easiest thing in the world…so why isn’t it?

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

KAZEX

I’m doing this all wrong.

I should be taking charge of the situation, like Ruth-Ann said. I should be telling Ruthie what I want to happen and introducing scenarios to her that she might like. Instead, I immediately put her back into the same situation as before—I let her overthink things.

I’m just as bad an overthinker. If we can’t even decide on a safe word, how are we ever going to move forward? How will I ever get her to realize just how much I want her?

Ruth-Ann crosses the room and gives me a very deliberate look, inclining her head toward Ruthie. It’s as if she’s saying go on, make a move. She doesn’t know that I tried and failed. I shake my head. Ruth-Ann makes a face at me and heads back to the bar to chat with Erzah and Zaemen.

“So what do you think about the bar?” Ruthie asks, gazing up at me.

“What about it?”

“You ever think about the future? Like what you want to do if Lord Straik decides he’s no longer going to be a pirate captain?”

Oh, I think about the future all the time. But my future has a very specific look to it. It has spiked, short hair and piercings all over its face and the sweetest smile. “Do you?”

“Never.”

I’m surprised at her answer. “Never?”

“I can’t move past the here and now,” Ruthie confesses. “I don’t know what the future holds for me and I’m scared to think about it.”

“Then don’t think.”

She chuckles, a little confused by my words. “What?”

I’m about to explain myself when I see something out of the corner of my eye. Jerzec is flirting with a human female, but that’s not what gets my attention. It’s that they’re flipping what looks like a credit into the air. Not a credit, I realize a moment later.

A coin. A human coin.

I wish I had a coin to flip, she’d said earlier. We flip a coin to decide when we can’t.

It’s the perfect answer. Why didn’t I see it before? I’m such a keffing idiot.

I touch Ruthie’s shoulder and then climb out of the booth, standing up and stepping on the table in my haste. “Be right back.”

“Where are you going?” She calls, laughing. “You’re not supposed to step on the table!”

I bound off the table and cross the room to Jerzec’s side. He’s giving the female a seductive look, and scowls when I approach.

“I need that coin,” I tell them, breathless. “The human coin. I will give you a thousand credits for it.”

“A thousand credits?” The woman giggles. “It’s literally a penny.”

I don’t know what a penny is, but it’s clear she doesn’t like my offer. “Two thousand credits, then.”

“Done,” the woman says quickly. “But I’m not sure what we can play Quarters with now that we’ve lost our coin.”

“Perhaps we can play something else,” Jerzec says smoothly, leaning closer.

I pull out my credit chip and hold it out to the female. She extends her datapad and I type in the amount, and it dings successfully. She hands the coin over to me, her brows furrowed in a mixture of amusement and confusion. “You a collector?”

“I am decisive,” I tell her.

“Oookay.” Her eyes widen and she shares a look with Jerzec. “Maybe go see if the bartender has any cherries or olives or something? We could use those instead.”

I race away again, clutching the prized coin. It is small and slightly sticky with drink, but I don’t care. It’s the answer to our problems.

Returning to Ruthie, I beam at her as she gives me a puzzled stare. I’m about to ask her to go back to the ship with me, when I remember what Ruth-Ann said. Present a scenario and invite her. Quit putting the decision in her hands. I clear my throat. “I am returning to the ship. Would you like to come with me?”

“Oh, I just got here.” Ruthie looks around, then shrugs, getting to her feet. “But yeah, I’m not in a party mood anyhow. I’m glad for Erzah but my head’s not in it. Are you feeling all right?”

“I have never been better.” The coin bites into my palm, I grip it so tightly.

She downs her drink quickly and I head to the bar to pay my tab. Then we head out, stepping into the street. It’s quiet the moment we get outside, the noisy atmosphere of the cantina dying away immediately. Ruthie walks at my side, her face turned up to enjoy the breeze.

I think about humans and how they like to touch constantly, and I take Ruthie’s hand in mine. If she says anything—noodle, piercing, or even no—I will drop it and apologize.

But she looks over at me, smiles, and tightens her grip on my hand.

My heart soars. “I love you,” I blurt again. “I love you, Ruthie.”

She blushes and her expression turns shy. She doesn’t answer, just squeezes my hand tightly.

I clutch the coin in my other hand and we walk through Port together, and it is the best walk I’ve ever had. Now I just have to figure out what I’m going to propose to Ruthie with our coin tosses…

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

RUTHIE

Kaz is being totally weird. Sweet, but weird.

I like that he’s holding my hand as we head back to the ship, but he’s quiet. Too quiet. Kazex is normally a very talkative guy. He’s got an open face and an open heart, and that’s one reason why I adore him so much. For him to be closed off is not like him. Then there’s the fact that we left the party early.

Kazex loves a party. He isn’t the type to get sloppy drunk, but he is the type to stay until all hours of the morning, laughing and gambling and just having a good time. We’ve had several small parties on the ship for various reasons—birthdays, the end of a particularly annoying job, the arrival of Salvotor a few months ago—but he’s never abandoned them early.

Yet tonight he’s here with me, alone, and he’s quiet.

“Is something wrong?” I ask him as we get back on the ship and the quiet of the Scarlet Gaze sinks in around us. Normally there’s always someone coming down a hall, or playing music, or working out. Maintenance. Yelling. There’s always background noise. Tonight it’s silent.

Tonight it feels like just us.

“Nothing’s wrong.” He glances around the ship and then turns to me. “Where are Lady Ruth and Lord Straik? They weren’t at the celebration, were they?”

I gesture back down the main hall, toward Straik’s living quarters that he shares with my sister. “Ruth wasn’t feeling well earlier. They’re probably just cuddled up on a couch.”

He brightens. “That sounds like an excellent idea. I am going to cuddle on a couch. Would you like to join me?”

His wording makes me smile. “If I say no, you’re going to cuddle alone?”

Kaz runs his thumb over the back of my hand. “I would prefer not to be alone.”

A hot thread of need rushes through me, and my sensitive nipple pricks again. “I’ll cuddle with you, sure.” With any other guy, it would sound like a line. But with Kazex, I know it’s not. He’s never been so forward. That’s not who he is…is it?

Shyness takes over me as we head into the common area rec room. Normally there’s someone in here, too, but this afternoon it’s quiet as could be. Kaz immediately heads for the couches, sits in his favorite spot, and then tugs me down beside him.

I laugh, because it’s unlike him to be so bold. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I have a coin,” he says smugly, and then pulls my legs across his lap.

“I…have no idea what that means.”

“Shall I show you?” The look he gives me is utterly seductive.

I nod. Of course I want to know what’s going on in his mind.

He puts his arm over my legs and tugs me a little closer, until my butt is snugged up against his thigh and our shoulders are touching. “We do not have an official word, my Ruthie, but we have a coin.”

Are we back to this? I feel guilty that I couldn’t think of a word for him. “We can use ‘noodle,’ really. I don’t mind.”

“We have a coin,” he repeats firmly, his expression determined. “If we cannot decide how to proceed, we flip the coin.”

“How to proceed with what, exactly?”

Kazex studies my face, quiet and thoughtful, until I can feel my face heating. Is he looking for something? Is he looking at my nostril that’s smaller than the other? “I have decided I’m going to kiss you,” he says finally. “Heads, it is on your mouth. Tails, it is on your hand.”

I’m utterly flummoxed at his words. We’ve gone from dancing around how we’re going to proceed and now he’s just announcing that he’s going to kiss me? “You know you could just ask me?”

“I could,” he agrees. “But we both have trouble saying what it is we want. If I came up to you and asked you if you would like to be kissed, you would fret over it. You would stress over what it would mean for us and if it would be a good kiss. I am telling you now that it does not matter what it means, and it does not matter if the kiss is good or not. I have decided, and now the only question is to answer whether you wish it on your hand or your mouth.” He pauses and then adds, “Or if you want to yell ‘noodle.’”

For some reason, I mentally picture me throwing my head back and screaming “noodle” at the top of my lungs and it strikes me as hilarious. “You don’t think this is strange?”

“If it works for us, what makes it strange? If you find my requests appalling, say your word.” He shrugs. “We will go as fast or as slow as you like.”

“But you want to kiss me?” I’m no longer laughing. I’m intrigued. We haven’t kissed yet, him and I, and I wonder what it’d be like. Is it going to be sweet and hesitant and patient like he is with me? Or does he kiss much fiercer?

“I can just kiss your hand. Or you can flip a coin.”

“Or I can noodle.”

“Or you can noodle, yes.”

“What happens if I say noodle?”

“Absolutely nothing. We go on as we are.” He smiles at me, his gaze easy and patient. “And at some point, I will ask again.”

The coward part of me wants to say the safe word right now, to just take the easy route. So we can stay friends forever and nothing will change.

But I’m intrigued by his offer of a kiss, too. “Have you ever kissed before? On the mouth?”

“I have not.”

“What if you don’t like it? A lot of aliens don’t like⁠—”

He shakes his head. “You’re overthinking, Ruthie. The question is not ‘will I like it.’ The question is ‘Do you want a kiss on your hand or your mouth?’”

“Mouth,” I say impulsively. Before I have a chance to think any longer.

Part of me expects him to be hesitant. Actually, all of me expects him to be hesitant. It’s his first kiss, after all. I’m not prepared for Kazex putting both hands on my cheeks and pulling me forward, pressing our mouths together with forceful enthusiasm. He’s obviously been watching Ruth and her husband, or he knows someone that kisses, because holy shit, this guy is a natural. His mouth opens against mine, his tongue brushing into my mouth, and then we’re locked together in the most intense, toe-curling kiss that tells me just how much Kazex wants me, and just how badly.

I’ve never been kissed like I’m being devoured. I have distant memories of other kisses from “before,” memories that aren’t truly mine. This kiss blows them all away. I don’t want him to ever let me up, even when we gasp for air before locking lips again. His mouth is hard against mine, his lips surprisingly soft, and his jaw is smooth and stubble-free. He’s warm and delicious and his tongue plays against mine in the most perfect way.

I want to cry when he pulls away from me, pressing his forehead to mine and panting.

“Holy shit,” I breathe.

“Do you need to noodle?” he asks, just as out of breath as I am.

I shake my head, loving the hands that continue to cup my face, as if I’m the most cherished thing in the world and he can’t stop touching me. Like if he lets me go, he’ll lose me forever, and so he refuses to let me go. I love that. I love that so much. “I’m good. I like it when you’re in control. I don’t like being in charge.”

As the words leave my mouth, I realize just how true they are.

I don’t like being in control. I like it when someone else makes the decisions. Ruth and Ruth-Ann are both the type that need to be in control of a situation, but not me. Maybe that’s not modern or feminist, but I like having someone else to rely on. I like trusting another and knowing that they’re looking out for me. And I absolutely trust Kazex. I’ve felt the most comfortable in the moment when he was in control, because I knew he had me. He wouldn’t let me come to harm.

It’s a wild realization. I’m more different than my sisters than I thought, because there’s nothing that I want more than for Kazex to take charge and show me just how he feels.

His thumbs stroke my cheeks and he studies my gaze. “Then you don’t mind if I push? If I tell you I’m going to kiss you?”

“I like it,” I confess softly.

Kazex growls, his eyes closing. “Kef, Ruthie. What you do to me.”

“Tell me.” I’m practically squirming with excitement. I want to know.

“I didn’t want to just ask you for kisses tonight,” he says. “I wanted to push you for more.”

I’m utterly titillated. “What kind of more?”

“Heads, I lick your cunt, and tails, you can watch me jerk off.” He blurts the words out so quickly that they practically tumble against each other. I can tell he’s been thinking about that a lot, and I can also tell by the way he tenses and draws back that he expects it to be too much for me.

But that hot, needy, yearning sensation is curling in my belly. “We can flip for that.”

He groans again. “Ruthie.”

“But you have to take me to our room first,” I tell him. If he’s going to get bossy, I’m going to chime in, too. “And I want two—no, three—more kisses.”

Kaz swings my legs off of his lap. He bounds to his feet and takes my hand, pulling me up against him. My padded, too-sensitive nipple brushes up against his tunic and I gasp, my eyes going wide.

He immediately stills. “Oh, kef, Ruthie. Are you hurt?”

“That didn’t hurt,” I whisper. How do I politely say it felt like his fingers were rubbing my nipple? Just at that small brush of clothing?

The look in his eyes grows hungry. “Oh?”

I nod.

His hand goes to my chin and he strokes his thumb along my jaw. “I’m going to kiss you again, then. Heads, it’s on your mouth. Tails, it’s on your cheek.”

“Mouth,” I blurt immediately.

He groans. “Good girl.”

And I love that, too. When he reaches for me, I slide my arms around his neck, tilting my face up so he can kiss me again. I love his mouth against mine, the sure, thorough sweep of his tongue into my mouth, and the gentle press of his chest against my pierced nipple. I’m dizzy with wanting him, and when he pulls away from me this time, I let out a little whimper of distress.

“I owe you two more,” he murmurs, leaning in and nipping at my lip ring with his mouth only. It’s a careful, tender nip and makes me whimper all over again like the needy thing I am. “I’ll give them to you in the bedroom. I promise.”

I nod, and then he takes my hand, leading me to our quarters. To my relief, no one shows up to pull us apart. No Ruth-Ann, no Erzah, no Sakkar, no one at all. We make it there and move to the bed, immediately twining around each other and kissing again.

“Two,” he gasps between kisses. And when I’m lost in his mouth and dazed from the kissing, he presses a final small one on my upper lip. “Three.”

“I like kissing you,” I manage. “Why haven’t we been doing this all along?”

“Because I was waiting for you to ask, and you thought about it so hard that you scared yourself out of asking.” He gives me another quick kiss and then pulls his tunic off over his head, tossing it to the floor.

Oh, he’s getting shirtless. Preparing for tails? At my look, he grins. “I’m not going to want to wear a shirt either way.” Then he pauses, eyeing me again. “Touch me.”

It’s not an ask. It’s a demand, but it’s done in that careful way of Kazex’s where it doesn’t feel bossy or creepy. It just feels confident. Like he knows what we both want.

I put my hand on his tattoo, lightly tracing the dancing, wild lines with my fingertips. They look a bit like human tribals, but three times more intricate, with lines weaving out of lines and shapes added to the mix. “Do they mean anything?”

“If they do, I don’t know it. There was an older clone at the mines where I worked. He would draw designs for us. Made them all unique so we would have art that was all our own. He was covered in his own tattoos, too. I saw him do hundreds of designs for the mine a’ani, and none of them were ever alike.”

“It’s beautiful. Maybe I should consider some tattoos of my own.”

“If you like. I’m happy with whatever makes you feel good.”

That’s another thing I adore about him—I can shave my head and he loves it. I can pierce all the spots in my face and he thinks it’s fantastic. I can wear men’s clothing or burp with the rest of them in the dining hall. He’s never once made me feel anything but utterly beautiful. I don’t have to have long hair or smooth, perfect skin to please him. He just wants me happy and comfortable in myself.

I trace a finger around his nipple, watching his reaction. “Are you sensitive here?”

“Not much,” he admits. “Not like you.”

I grin at that and trail my finger lower, more towards the middle of his abdomen. His stomach is a smooth, flat expanse. When I run a finger along the spot where a navel should be, though, he squirms away, his breathing quickening. “Sensitive there.”

Oooh, fascinating. I decide I’m going to lick that spot on him, and soon.

I slide my finger lower, tugging at the band of his trou. His cock is very obviously erect, pressing a tent against his clothing. I glance up at him, and his focused gaze is locked on me.

“Coin now?” he asks. “Or have you made up your mind?”

I freeze. One of the choices is clearly better for me than the other, but it also feels a little bossy to just ask for it. Even so, I want it to remain on the table. But are we even ready for that? Or are we moving too fast⁠—

“Coin now,” he tells me, leaning forward and kissing me again. “I’ve decided.”

Oh. Right. God, I really do think too much.

“Coin,” I agree.

He holds it aloft, flips it into the air, and then slaps a palm over the coin before it lands. He glances up at me, eyes full of excitement. “Ready?”

“Ready,” I say, breathless.

Kazex pulls his hand back.

Tails.

We both sit back, glancing at each other. Is it strange to say I’m disappointed? Because I’ll still enjoy seeing him touch himself. Like, a lot. But the other suggestion took my breath away…

Kaz immediately picks up the coin. “We’ll flip it again.”

A surprised giggle escapes me. “What? That’s not how it works.”

“It’s our coin. It can work any way we want it to.” The look he gives me is roguish. “You were disappointed with tails, kef knows I was disappointed, so we’ll flip again.”

I press my hands to my hot cheeks. “I’m not disappointed⁠—”

“Flipping again,” he calls out, overriding me, and tosses the coin into the air again.

Tails.

He glances over at me, and we both burst into laughter.

Kazex sets the coin down on the bed between us, and we both look at it. After a moment, he glances up at me. "Maybe I'm selfish, but I want to kiss you between your thighs."

Good lord, how is that selfish?

"Tell me if you hate the idea," he prompts. "We can go with the coin. Or we can use your word. Just tell me what you want, Ruthie."

"I don't hate the idea," I tell him shyly. I don't think any woman would hate the idea. I don't have memories of this part of sex, or if I've even had sex in the past. Just kisses. This'll be as new for me as it is for him. I want to see what it's like. If kissing is amazing, I can only imagine how incredible oral sex with Kazex will be. I just know he won't ignore my pleasure. If anything, my pleasure is his pleasure.

It's an exciting thought.

He snatches up the coin and thunks it down on the nightstand next to the bed, and the look he gives me is ravenous. "Lie down so I can kiss you, then."

"Should I get undressed first?"

"I'll do it." He looks thrilled at the thought, gaze roaming hungrily over me. "It will be my pleasure."

All right, then. I lie down on the bed, nervous for the first time about my choices in clothing. I always wear Kazex's uniforms, sized down to fit me. They're one-piece, utility garments and not designed for seduction. The fact that they've been nipped in for me means that there are sleeves that are too long, shoulders that hang halfway down my arm, and a baggy waist cinched in by a belt. I normally don't care what I look like, clothing-wise. Ironic, considering I'm always decorating my face. Underneath are a functional bra and a pair of panties, also designed for comfort and not sexiness. I haven't even shaved my legs. Is he going to be repulsed by me? Will he think I need to take better care of myself? I start to panic.

"Noodle," I say breathlessly as he gets on his hands and knees.

Kazex looks up in surprise. "I haven't even touched you."

"I know. I just...I haven't shaved my legs. And my panties are kinda granny panties, because Ruth was still figuring out the clothing printing machine and wasn't able to fine-tune it. And⁠—"

"You're thinking too much." He sits back on his haunches. "Do you really want to stop or are you just scaring yourself? I will not be upset if you want to stop, but I also don't want you to talk yourself out of something you might enjoy." He pauses. "Also I am not entirely sure what a grannypanty is."

"They're not very sexy."

"Are undergarments supposed to be sexy?"

"And I haven't shaved my legs," I point out.

"I have not shaved mine, either."

I giggle. "You don't have hair on yours." The a'ani have hair atop their heads and nowhere else. Everywhere else they're as smooth as babies. I think about watching him masturbate and how starkly bare his balls were. They were a deep, velvety red with purple veins tracing through them, and when he'd come, they'd been so tight they'd look like a fist.

Okay, now I'm obsessing over the man's balls. I must really have it bad.

"I bet you do not have much hair on yours." He tugs on the cuff of my pants, lifting it up and ignoring my squeal of protest. Kaz exposes an inch of skin between boot and cuff. "That? That is what you're worried about?" He shoots me a look that tells me I'm worried over nothing. "You made it sound like you had praxiian legs."

My giggles turn into full-blown laughter, because praxiians have heavily furred lower arms and legs. And chests. And maybe more, but I've never stripped one down to check.

"Ruthie. I would still want to kiss you everywhere even if you had praxiian legs, because they would be your legs. Understand? I do not care if your randypanty are ugly⁠—"

"Granny panties," I correct, giggling again.

"Or if you don't like your legs. I like them."

It's hard to fight such an earnest declaration. "All right, I take back my noodle."

He flashes me another grin. "Would you prefer I keep my eyes closed the entire time I kiss you?"

I consider this. "No. It's all right. I just..."

"Think too hard." Kaz nods. "If you are all right with proceeding, I have an idea."

"I'm fine." Strangely enough, I am. I like that when I tried to stop him, he didn't get mad, just wanted to check in with me. We're friends, and somehow I know we're going to keep on being friends even after this. It fills me with a sense of relief so strong I want to cry. 

Nothing's going to change with Kazex because he hasn't changed in how he feels about me. Not one bit. It's a freeing realization that my legs or my ugly panties aren't going to scare him off. It means that no matter what I do, I can't chase him away. We'll just laugh over it and reset.

I kick off my boots and lie back down again.

His hands go to my belt and he glances up at me. "Tell me the word at any time and we'll stop until you're comfortable."

"I'm good. I promise."

Kazex's smile grows wide with pleasure. He activates the auto-fastener and my belt slithers off. Next comes the auto-fastener that goes up to my collar, and when he activates it, it seems to hiss and slither forever as it works its way down to the left leg of my jumpsuit. The fabric gapes a little, exposing my bra and all the padding on one side.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, holding a hand out to me. "Sit up so I can finish undressing you."

I take his hand and sit up, and he guides my arms out of my sleeves. I resist the urge to help because I love the look of concentration on his face. When I'm down to just my bra and the jumpsuit pooled at my waist, I lie back down and lift my hips so he can finish the job.

When I'm down to just a bra and panties, he skims a hand up my leg. I inwardly wince, because of leg hair, but the fascination on his face tells me I have nothing to worry over. His gaze is roaming everywhere—my stomach, my bra, my bare arms, the curve of my hips, and then back to my face.

"Kef, Ruthie. You have no idea what this is doing to me." He takes a ragged breath.

I prop up on my elbows, my sensitive pierced nipple throbbing as if it's the only thing in my body with nerve endings. I had no idea that it would go into overdrive the moment it was pierced, but I like it. I love the quivery sensations it's sending through me. "Do you need to stop?"

"Never." He leans in and brushes his mouth over my abdomen, kissing my navel. It's weird that we're both clones and yet I have a navel and he doesn't. Maybe they were trying to copy the original Ruth’s body by giving me one? 

Whatever it is, I'm glad for it, because it's ticklish and when he skims his mouth over my belly button, I feel my pulse beating between my thighs. His tongue dips into the divot of my navel and I suck in a breath.

Kazex immediately groans, burying his face against my stomach as he hunches over me. "Just...give...me...a moment."

It's incredibly flattering that he can't quite control himself around me. Maybe some women wouldn't like it, but I fucking love it. I love that I'm irresistible to him, even when I've got unshaved legs and a bandage on my boob. I'm feeling sexier by the moment, and it's all because of his reactions. It doesn't matter that my legs are sprawled wide and I'm up on my elbows in nothing but a bra and panties. There's a man between my knees who is losing his mind with desire for me, and I've never felt more desirable.

"Do you need to jerk off?" I ask him.

He groans, his hands locking around my waist even as he presses his brow against my ribs. "I...can control myself."

I love his desperation. "You don't have to control yourself. We flipped a coin, remember? We can do both. You can jerk off and then you can touch me."

His head jerks up and his eyes are dilated with arousal. "Do you want to watch?"

"You know I do."

The breath hisses out from between his teeth. No sooner do I say the words than he's reaching for his belt, shoving his trou down his thighs before his belt even finishes receding. His cock thrusts free and he grips it with one hand, then pauses. "Should we go to the shower?"

I shake my head. "I like my current view."

He's still crouched between my thighs, now sitting back on his haunches. I'm going to be staring his cock down if he touches himself right now, and when he comes...it'll be all over my belly and my bra and my ugly panties.

God, why is that visual so stinking hot?

Kaz wraps a hand around his cock, stroking it roughly. The head—purple with need— drips with pre-cum, and I watch as he drags his fist down his length, only to jerk up again. His breath hitches, and I resist the urge to slip a hand into my panties and touch myself.

But...why not? It's a bold, vulnerable move...and I bet Kazex will love it. Making him lose control is something I want desperately.

"Are you going to come?" I whisper, reaching forward and playing with the band of my panties as he strokes himself.

His gaze darts to my hand, as I knew it would. His shuttling fist moves faster up and down his length.

"You can come on me," I tell him. "I like the idea."

And then I slip my fingers into my panties and touch myself.

The ragged sound he makes is utterly gratifying, and it feels as if I'm touching electricity when I brush my fingers over my clit. He watches me with heated intensity as I draw little circles around the most sensitive spot on my body. I don't normally masturbate much since arriving on the ship. There's too many people around with sensitive noses. Sometimes I'll touch myself in the shower just to take the edge off, but most of the time I ignore my needs.

Maybe that's why this moment feels so intense.

I take gaspy breaths, touching myself as he works his cock faster, the head wet and gleaming. I love this shared moment of naughtiness. I love that I can make him overwhelmed with need in a matter of moments. My own need ratchets up, my ultra-sensitive nipple tight and aching. I move my fingers faster, my gaze glued to his erection. "Kazex."

"Ruthie," he growls, and the sheer hunger in the way he says my name makes me gasp again.

The first spurt of hot seed on my skin feels like a shock. My gaze flies from his cock to his face, and I watch Kazex's expression contort as he erupts, working his cock harder and faster as another rope of seed glazes my stomach. He paints my belly, breath heaving as he jerks his cock, working every last bit out of his system. When he's done, he lets out a full-body shudder and falls back on his haunches, utterly spent.

I've stopped moving my hand, because touching myself wasn't half as interesting as watching him get off. I slip my hand out of my panties, and my lower arm, my panties, and my stomach have all been hit with his release. He's left a mess all over my skin but I feel strangely proud of it. Look at how irresistible I am. Look at how hard I made him come.

When he catches his breath, he gives me a sheepish, utterly sweet look. "You're incredible."

"I thought you were the impressive one," I say, nudging him with my knee. "I'll get a towel."

"No—you wait there. I'll get one." He moves forward and kisses me—hard and possessive—and when I'm breathless, he gets up from the bed and races over to the lavatory. He jogs back while I remain in place, a damp towel in his hands. With another sheepish little smile, he sits next to me on the bed and cleans me off, until there's no more semen on my skin. My panties are still damp from his leavings, though, and he pauses over them. "Can I⁠—"

"Yes." God, I thought he'd never ask. "Please."

He tosses the towel aside and delicately grabs the waist of my panties, tugging them down to reveal the curls between my thighs. I love the pleased sound he makes at the sight, and I'm feeling more comfortable with my body by the moment.

I feel sexy. I feel good.

He flicks my panties to the floor and then runs his fingers over my hips, tracing them with a touch. "You know your word."

"I don't need it. You have me."

"I do." Kazex leans in and kisses my belly, his expression reverent. "All I want is to please you."

"I know," I say softly. I suck in as he kisses my stomach again, his lips ticklish. "Should I take my bra off?"

"Leave it on," he says, kissing just below my navel. "We want to make sure we don't hit your piercing."

Smart, though I'm looking forward to the day that he can tease my piercing with his lips. Just thinking about that makes me clench deep inside, and I wriggle on the bed.

"I'm going lower, I promise," he tells me, kissing down my hip. "Be patient."

Kazex's mouth nibbles along the inside of my hip before he moves to the curls covering my pubis and nuzzles them, his tongue dipping out to tease the cleft of my folds. I open my legs wider to invite him in, and I forget all about being shy. This is Kazex. He knows me better than anyone. He can taste me wherever, touch me wherever, because I trust him.

"Been wondering how you'd taste," Kazex rasps, and licks the seam of my flesh again, his tongue dipping in between my folds.

I fist my hands in the blankets, because I really want to touch him and also don't want to distract him. "How do I taste? Tell me, then."

"So keffing sweet I can't stand it." He drags his tongue up and down my flesh, covering as much ground as possible. "How are we not doing this every day?"

At the moment, I don't have an answer for him. Why aren't we doing this every day? I pant as his tongue explores my body, teasing a trail through crevices and folds, discovering all the bits I can only see with a well-aimed mirror. He's not shy about this at all, either. When his tongue teases across my back hole, I squeal in surprise, arching my hips.

"Bad?" he asks, moving to press kisses on my thigh instead. "Noodle?"

"No. Just...surprising. And if you're going to lick me there, don't put your tongue inside me."

"Oh? You don't like it?"

"No—you just never go ass to mouth. It's a rule."

He chuckles and then goes back between my cheeks, teasing my back entrance with his tongue. He hoists my hips higher, until his nose is practically inside me and his tongue keeps playing with my backside. I squirm again, gasping, and make a noise of surprise when I'm suddenly dumped back down onto the mattress. Kazex gets up and races across the room.

"Wait! Where are you going?" I sit up again, staring after him.

"Mouthwash," he says, and then I hear the sound of him brushing his teeth and rinsing. "Didn't realize I'd broken the rules when I went down there. It was just too cute to ignore." He jabbers at me as he brushes his teeth. "Now I want to lick more of your pussy, so...mouthwash."

I flop back down on the bed, fighting the urge to giggle like a madwoman. Somehow when I'd imagined us getting together, I hadn't pictured mid-cunnilingus mouth washing. Then again, I guess it was mid-rimming and now we're going back to cunnilingus?

He returns with the scent of herbs lingering around him, and a bright grin. "Back to my feast."

I laugh again, because I'm having such fun. When I'd thought about sex with Kazex, I'd put so much importance on it. That we'd be extremely serious and it would somehow change our personalities with the intensity of the moment. But...nothing's changed other than the fact that we're touching each other. He's still a big sweetheart, utterly eager for everything when it comes to me. And I'm not nervous anymore. I'm having a wonderful time.

Kazex flashes another quick smile at me and then returns to his spot between my thighs, his belly on the mattress. He pins my legs in his grip, curling one arm around each thigh, and then frames his face with my body. "Perfection."

A breath later, he buries his face in my pussy.

All my giggles die. I moan, and this time I can't help but reach for his hair. It's short, almost as short as mine, and I curl my fingers in the black locks of it as he sweeps his tongue over my skin, looking for the entrance to my body. When he finds it, he makes a pleased sound. "So wet. Kef me."

I whimper as he thrusts into me with his tongue, wanting nothing more than to buck against him. This all feels good—really good—but I need more. I'm not going to come from this alone. It feels amazing, true, but I'm reaching the point where I'm about to put my hand back on my clit just so I can get off.

He tongues me again then groans, the sound pure pleasure. "Ah, Ruthie. You are so keffing hot and wet." He licks me again and I tug on his hair, trying to move him upward. "Where do you want me to kiss this pretty cunt?"

"Clit, please."

"Mmm. This little spot here?" And he leans in and rubs the tip of his nose against it.

I nearly come off the bed. "Yes!"

"You want me to...lick it?" His tongue slithers up my folds and then draws a teasing circle around my clit.

A sob of need catches in my throat. "More."

"More of that? What feels best? Tell me. I want to learn."

"Steady rubbing on the sides, or sucking on it. Circles. Friction but not full contact. All of that feels incredible."

"Yeah?" His voice is soft with arousal. "Maybe I'll try a few things. Tell me if I do something you don't like, 'kay? Noodle away."

"I like you down there, I swear," I pant, frantic. "I love it. I just need more."

He grunts reassurance, and then his mouth closes over my clit. A trill of delight escapes me, and I squeeze my thighs against his ears, trying to hold him there. Kazex gets the message, though. He toys with my clit using only the tip of his tongue and then sucks on it. The noises I make get louder and more enthusiastic as he sucks harder, interrupting only to flick his tongue over my clit with light, teasing motions that make me absolutely insane. I follow the hunger deeper, losing all control of myself. I'm dimly aware that I'm rocking my hips against his face, lifting up even as he works my clit. I'm making ridiculous, obscene noises.

And I feel so fucking good. His mouth on my clit is incredible. And yet it's still not enough. I'm so close to the edge I can barely stand it.

"More," I whimper. "More, more. Kaz, I'm so close."

He teases his tongue against my clit again, even as one hand presses between my legs. I arch, expecting him to go for the entrance to my body.

Kazex goes to my back door again and presses his thumb against it, seeking entrance.

I'm shocked at the raw sensation—shocked, and I come so hard that dots swim in front of my eyes. I make a guttural sound and then the orgasm crashes through me, my muscles clenching with delicious release, and he keeps licking and teasing my clit as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through my body. When I come down, I pull his head up, tugging on his hair.

Kazex gives me a flushed grin, his mouth slick from his ministrations. "Good?"

I'm about to answer, but his thumb rubs against my butt-pucker again and I squeak, wriggling. "You went back there again!"

"Yeah, you made it sound like it was the grand finale. I wanted to get you off." His tone turns smug and he rubs his face against my thigh. "Worked like a charm, too."

I giggle harder and I can't decide if he's a genius or if I need to clarify. Maybe next time. Though...it did make me come. Even now, my legs are twitching with little aftershocks of pleasure. "We should probably shower, hmm?"

"We can get up soon." He eases my legs off his shoulders and travels up my body, kissing me (and avoiding my padded breast) and then lies down on the other side of the bed. A breath later, he pulls me against him and tucks his head against my neck. "I can taste you in my mouth. I might never brush my teeth again. I love it."

"If you want to keep kissing me, please brush your teeth," I tell him, snuggling back against his bigger body. God, I feel good. Really good. Loose and languid and sexy and perfect. We haven't had sex yet, and there will definitely have to be a birth control conversation, but there's time yet. There's a coin for when I'm feeling anxious, too.

Something tells me I won't need it too often, though. Not with how safe and how good he makes me feel.

His lips nip at the shell of my ear, tugging on a metal hoop there. "I like holding you."

"I like you holding me."

"Good, because I'm staying in bed with you tonight...unless you need to flip a coin over it." His tongue strokes over my next piercing. "Or if you need the noodle word."

"I like you in bed with me."

"Even if I can't protect you?"

"You can't?"

"Nuh-uh. With a gorgeous human in my arms, it's going to take all of my concentration to resist you." His hand skims over my belly. "I won't be able to stop touching you."

Just the mental image of that—and his hand creeping between my thighs—sends little sparks of heat through me again. "That's a bad thing?"

"It is if you don't feel safe. I'd love to hold you all night, but if you need a bodyguard, I'll be that for you. The choice is yours."

Is that why he never joins me in bed? Because he thinks I need a bodyguard more than a lover to be content? I shouldn't be surprised. I've been scared of everything. Before coming here, I was a slave and my memories are hazy, but brutal and terrifying. I have awful nightmares. Of course he thinks he needs to protect me. That's been our established relationship even before we became friends.

Ruthie needed protecting, and Kazex volunteered to be the protector.

Now, though, I test out the idea of not having a protector sleeping across the doorway. "I think I'd rather have you here in bed with me," I admit. "I think we're safe on the ship. Nothing's going to happen to me with you around, anyhow."

"Keffing right." He presses another kiss to my neck. "I'd die first."

I hope it doesn't come to that. I pull his arm tighter around me. "What happens to us now?"

"Well, you mentioned a shower." He kisses my neck again. "And maybe a bit more kissing and touching before we get exhausted and fall asleep. And if we're really lucky, we'll wake up in the mood and get to have fun like that once more."

I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "I meant you and me."

"Nothing between us has changed," Kazex tells me, his voice soft in my ear. "I'm the same as I ever was. You're the same. It's just that now I'll happily feast on your cunt a dozen times a day. Or you can watch me jerk off. Whatever you want."

I chuckle, but I'm strangely dissatisfied with his answer. All of this and nothing has changed in his eyes?

For me, it feels like a huge change. I'm moving forward...but to what?

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

KAZEX

Lady Ruth once told me that a lot of humans believe in an afterlife called Heaven, where people go and spend eternity in bliss. She'd said she didn't know what it'd be like, but for me, Heaven is surely Ruthie with her thighs spread against my ears, her sweet cries filling the room as I tongue her to another climax.

It's the best way to start the morning. It's the only way I want to start every morning from here on out.

Because now I've got Ruthie in my arms, and I'm not letting her go.

She's a little shy this morning, my sweet female. After I make her come, she's all blushes, and when I try to kiss her, she covers her mouth and insists that her breath is terrible. Impossible. I shared a room with Dopekh before she arrived and he'd once left a bowl of half-eaten veg under his bed for six months. That smelled terrible. Ruthie is just Ruthie.

The moment she puts down her toothbrush, I cup her face and kiss her thoroughly.

"You taste delightful," I tell her, rubbing the tip of her small, cute nose with my larger, far less cute one. "Tell me that you're staying nearby today. I have training sessions with two of the crew this morning, and then I have to run a check on the wiring. I told Erzah I'd handle it since he's caught up in the cantina business. Other than that, I'm all yours."

"Other than all that, huh?" She gives me a wry look. "So what you're saying is that you're busy all day but you want me nearby just to look at?"

"Yes." I kiss her again. "Is that bad?"

Ruthie just laughs. "I already promised Erzah I'd meet him at his new location and help him figure out what he's going to need. Sorry."

I want to growl at Erzah for stealing her away from me, even if just for a few hours. "Come see me when you get back."

"Oh, I will. I'm going to shower first, though." She strips off her bra and the tunic she likes to sleep in and then steps across the lavatory and into the shower. I watch her ass flex as she moves, and it only takes a moment before I decide I'm going to join her.

She laughs when I get into the narrow shower-box with her, practically pressing her against the wall. "There's not enough room in here for both of us."

"There is. But we have to be touching." I slide an arm around her waist and pull her against me, nestling my cock against her delightful backside. "See?"

"How am I supposed to wash?" A chuckle escapes her. "Or is the big plan that I soap up and you just rub me all over you?"

That is actually a genius plan. "I like that idea, actually."

Ruthie laughs, and I love how much I've been able to make her smile in the last few days. It's like something has unthawed between us, and some of her fear has melted away.

"Hmm, should we get the coin?" Ruthie says, turning to face me. "Heads, I can wash your front, and tails, I can wash your back."

"No coin needed—I prefer the front."

"How did I know?" She arches a pierced brow at me and then squeezes a large dollop of body wash into her hand. "Stay still. I'd hate to miss a spot."

"That sounds like a threat." But I remain still just as she says, because I want her hands all over me. Because I love that she's reaching for me without needing the coin. Good.

She starts out innocently, her soapy hands skimming over my shoulders and down my arms, even as the tips of her breasts tease my front. The pierced one is still covered with waterproof bandages, but even as it skims against me, she gasps.

Kef, I can't wait until it's safe to touch her there. I'm going to play with that piercing for hours, just to make her whimper endlessly.

Her hands slip down my abdomen, tickling my stomach and then heading lower. Before I can even offer a single word of encouragement, her hands are on my cock, stroking it with a slippery, soapy grasp.

I slam my hands to the tile, bracing myself. Nothing has ever felt better than that, and I growl with how much I need her.

"Too much?" she asks, her tone flirty. She trails her fingers on my belly instead, deliberately avoiding my cock.

"Too good."

"Should I stop?"

"Kef no. You need to do it again. Put your hands on me and stroke, Ruthie."

She bites her lip, her eyes luminous. "Is it bad that I like it when you boss me around?"

I'm going to lose it with how much I want her. "It's not bad at all. Just know that if I go too far, all you have to say is⁠—"

"Noodle, I know." Ruthie gives me a sly look and strokes her hand up my cock again, sending shockwaves up my spine. "Look at how hard you are."

"Stroke rougher," I tell her, voice raspy. I want to grab her and force her hand to move faster, but I clench my palms against the tiles, holding myself steady. I want her to explore me because she wants to, not because I'm demanding it.

Ruthie squeezes my cock as she works it, the soap making everything slippery and gliding and amazing. Keffing amazing. I groan as she gives the tip a bit of extra attention, a shudder rippling through me. 

"I think a piercing here would be sexy," she whispers. "Right here at the tip. I bet it'd be so sensitive, just like my nipple. Every time fabric brushed over it, you'd tingle. And since I asked you to get it, you'd think of me. You'd be hard all the time⁠—"

The climax explodes out of me and I snarl as I come in her grip. Her hands keep stroking even as my seed spurts across her skin, hot and sticky. It feels so good that I can't stop coming. With every touch of her hands it's another spurt, another shot of semen sprayed across her fingers, until I'm utterly spent.

Wrung out, too.

I take a shuddering breath, easing my hands down from the walls. I strained against them so hard I'm surprised the tile isn't cracked. My biceps feel as spent as my cock, though, and I want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. The wonderful, glorious ridiculousness of this perfect moment.

Ruthie rinses her hands off in the spray and turns to me with a sly smile. Her normally spiked hair is plastered to her skull and she looks impish and adorable. "Feel better?"

I bark out a laugh and pull her against me. "You know I do. But now it's my turn to wash you."

"Oh no," she says in a flat, mocking tone. "Please. Stop. Don't."

I kiss her temple and turn her in my arms, until her front is facing the stream of water and her backside brushes against me. I hold my hands out and she squirts the body wash onto them. 

"Hurry it up," she tells me in a teasing voice. "Erzah's going to be looking for me soon."

"He can wait."

She giggles, the sound light and bright and beautiful as I carefully wash her body. I glide my hands over her arms and down her front, mindful of the sensitive piercing. The last thing I want is to cause her pain. I like that she comes to my arms so easily now. I won't do anything to jeopardize that. I take my time, stroking over her back with the soap as she takes a step forward and then washing her buttocks. Okay, I give them a bit of a jiggle, just to make her laugh again.

I love her laughter so much.

I kneel in the shower, washing her legs and then one foot as she lifts it into the air. "So you're working on wiring, today?" Her hand rests atop my head, and I imagine her as a queen letting her servants attend her. I don't mind that role at all. "Why you?"

"Before I was head of security, I was in maintenance for a long time. Erzah is busy, and Zaemen will forget, so I said I'd work on it." I clean her toes, marveling at how small they are. "Something's sending a problem code when the diagnostic is run. It's not a serious error, but one that needs to be corrected before they fly out."

"We," she corrects.

I set her foot down. "Hmm?"

"Before 'we' fly out."

Now comes the moment I've been dreading. "Ruthie...you're safe on this ship without me. You know that, right? Lord Straik won't let anything happen to you."

She pulls out of my grip and rinses the soap off her leg, then turns the water off. She is silent, and I worry she's upset.

"Ruthie?"

"You're not staying on the ship?" Her voice is unsteady.

"I owe Erzah a favor from a while back. He's asked me to help him with his bar for a while. Act as a bouncer while he's running things. And Lord Straik won't need a full crew forever. He's talked about settling down with Lady Ruth...and I don't have to stay here forever. Just a while. Just to help Erzah get started."

She's silent. Too silent.

"Say something, Ruthie."

"You're staying here on Risda," she says, flat and emotionless.

"For a while, yes."

She won't look me in the eye. "And Ruth isn't."

"She's staying with Lord Straik, of course. They're staying right now but we've all been talking about what the future looks like for us..." I trail off, because Ruthie has carefully avoided such conversations. I hate that we're confronting it now, when we were so happy five minutes ago. "Lord Straik can't stay here forever. He'd draw too much attention to Risda and strain Lord va'Rin's hospitality. He's going to want someplace of his own."

"But...I have to be with Ruth," she says.

"You should be wherever you want to be, Ruthie. If that's with me, wonderful. If that's with Ruth, that's wonderful, too. You have to do what's best for you. I promised Erzah I'd help him get started, and I can't go back on that." It's destroying me inside to think about parting from her, even for a few months. But I owe Erzah. He's from the same circumstances. The same cloning pool. He's never asked for anything before.

And when I said yes, that was before everything changed between Ruthie and myself.

"You'll be safe on the ship," I reassure her. "If I'm not here, Dopekh will probably take over as head of security again. I can talk to him, have him sleep outside your door⁠—"

"You can't leave me," Ruthie says, panicked. Her eyes are full of frustration. "Not now!"

Her words are tearing me apart. "You could stay with me. We could rent a room on Risda. See what it's like living planetside for a while. Doesn't have to be forever⁠—"

"I can't leave my sisters!" She snaps at me as if I've said something incredibly stupid. "Don't be ridiculous."

"You can't leave your sisters? Or you won't leave your sisters?" I step out of the shower, ignoring the shocked look she sends my way. Picking up a towel, I unfold it and hold it out to her so I can dry her off. "You say you want to be your own person, Ruthie. So why do you have to stay attached to them?"

She gasps as if I've struck her. "Fuck you."

Ah, kef. I reach for her as she snatches the towel from me and races past. "I didn't mean it like that, Ruthie. I'm just saying⁠—"

But it's clear that she's done talking. Ruthie shoots me a wounded look and shoves past into the bedroom. "Leave me alone," she says, toweling off quickly and grabbing at her clothes. "I don't want to talk to you right now."

I run a hand down my face and wonder if I've keffed everything up already.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

RUTHIE

The tears manage to stay back until I'm out of the room, at least. Once I'm dressed, I race across the ship, looking for someplace that Kazex won't come find me. I decide that barging in on Ruth-Ann's room is the best answer, and I slap the door open.

Ruth-Ann isn't inside. The bed is neatly made, her room tidy, but there's no Ruth-Ann. Her boots are gone, which means she's probably headed out. No doubt she's going to Port, also, because she loves being nosy.

I collapse on her bed and hug her pillow to my face, muffling my sobs. I don't even know why I'm crying. It's just...everything suddenly feels wrong.

Kazex is leaving me.

For months.

And I can't leave my sisters. I can't. I can't.

But how can I let Kazex go? Just the thought of waking up without him at my side in the morning—even just sharing a smile—makes me ache something fiercely. Even now, the thought of spending months apart seems like eternity. I don't want things to change more than they already have. I can't stand it.

I roll onto my side, hugging the pillow, and as I do, something hard presses under my hip.

The coin. It must have slipped into my pocket, or Kazex put it there while I was sleeping so it wouldn't get lost.

I pull it out and study it. It's a plain penny, dull and slightly worn down. The date is 1965, years and years before I was born. I stare at Lincoln's scruffed profile, thinking. I could flip the coin to decide.

Heads, I stay with my sisters. Tails, I go with Kazex.

The decision would be made for me. I can let the coin choose. It seems so simple. 

I sit up, ready to flip it...and I can't bring myself to do so.

I don't like either option. Both of them are going to break me. This isn't just deciding where a kiss might land.

This is my future.

I throw myself back down on the bed, staring up at Ruth-Ann's ceiling with tears in my eyes. How can he abandon me? How can he leave me to...

...make plans he's had for a while now.

Ugh. It's my fault. I've waited too long and now I have to decide between him and my sisters. Between Kazex and the safety of the ship.

I hold the coin tightly, fighting tears. I should just decide. I should. I just...

...I'm paralyzed.

Why can't I just choose?

The door opens and Ruth-Ann frowns at the sight of me sprawled on her bed. "What's wrong?"

"Everything!"

"Oh boy." She turns and glances behind her, where Erzah is waiting. "You go ahead, we'll catch up."

I feel a hint of shame that I'm letting Erzah down, but I don't know that I can concentrate on making a list of what furnishings the new building needs. Not when I feel as if my lungs are being crushed from sheer panic. I gasp for breath, clutching the pillow tighter.

"You're working yourself into a panic attack," Ruth-Ann says in that calm, practical voice of hers. "Deep breaths. Count to five with each one. You want me to get Ruth?"

I nod and concentrate on breathing. A cold sweat is breaking out over my body, but I know it's because I'm worked up. I breathe. And breathe. My head spins, but Ruth-Ann counts along with me, and after a few minutes, I do start to feel better.

Ruth shows up, her long hair pulled into a messy knot atop her head. She looks furious as she thumps down on the bed next to us. "What's wrong? Who do I need to kill?"

"She's having a panic attack," Ruth-Ann says, rubbing my back as I continue to clutch the pillow like a lifeline. "You know how anxious she gets."

"Do I need to get Kazex?" Ruth asks. "You always⁠—"

"No," I say firmly.

Both of my sisters recoil. "Uh oh," says Ruth. "Trouble in paradise."

"What happened?" Ruth-Ann asks.

"I'm not mad at him. I just...he's going to stay behind with Erzah," I blurt. "Help him run the cantina once it's set up."

"That so? Good for him," Ruth says cheerfully.

"No!" I wail.

"Oh. I take it back." She clenches a fist. "That fucking bastard. How dare he."

Ruth-Ann frowns at both of us. She continues to give my back little pats. "Why is that bad, exactly, Ruthie? You can stay with him, or you can get a room on your own in town. I bet he'd be thrilled if you stayed behind, and you know Erzah's going to need help. He's got Zaemen and Aithar with him, and the guys are really sweet, but you also know how they are."

"Oh man." Ruth chuckles. "Zaemen, Aithar, and Erzah running a bar. It's like the start of a joke. Zaemen will lose the cash box within the first hour, Aithar will sign over his life savings to someone running a pyramid scheme, and Erzah will go into business with the person running the pyramid scheme. And then Kaz will have to break some heads in. God, it's going to be such a mess. Fun to watch, though."

I bite back a flash of anger. Do they not get it? "You don't understand," I say stiffly. "He's going to be here and not with the ship."

"O-kaaaaay...?" Ruth blinks at me. "Help me out here, because pregnancy is eating my brain cells. What am I missing?"

"I'm going to be with you guys!"

Ruth-Ann gives my shoulder a squeeze. "You're panicking because we've been together all this time and you're comfortable now. The thought of that changing frightens you, am I right?"

I choke on another sob and nod, leaning towards her and falling into her arms. Ruth-Ann hugs me tightly. Another hand pats my back, this one an awkward thump from Ruth.

"You can stay," Ruth says. "You know I won't be mad if either of you go, right? We're family, but we can still get together. Straik has this big honking ship and we can come visit all the time."

"And we can comm daily. Group comms." Ruth-Ann gives me a comforting squeeze. "Even if you stayed behind, it's not like you'd be abandoned."

"Look at how often I talk to Alice and Jade and Helen," Ruth adds. "And we're going to visit again very soon. I know the universe is big, but it can also be really small." She gives me a too-cheerful thump on the back. "Besides, you weren't thinking about living in these tiny crew quarters forever, were you? What if you want a family?"

"You guys are my family!" I protest.

"You know what I mean. What if you and Kaz want kids someday?"

God, what if we do? Are we going to raise them on a pirate ship in space? Or in a cantina? The thought is terrifying. I haven't given thought to having kids at all—I'm too busy trying to figure out me. But Ruth is right—the room we have here is barely bigger than a closet. They're tight quarters for two people, and impossible for a family.

"I know you're afraid of change," Ruth-Ann soothes, her touches comforting as she strokes my back and then my arms. "You've come a long way from when you first arrived, haven't you? Maybe it's time to think about what's next."

"I'm terrified of what's next," I admit. "I'm just getting comfortable with right now."

"We've been in limbo for so long that it's hard to think about what's next," Ruth says, her voice gentler than before. "When I was stuck on the Buoyant Star with Jade and the others, we lived from day to day, worried that something else was going to go wrong with the ship that we didn't know how to work. Now that I can think about a future, I want a house. I want someplace quiet to set up as my home. I want a beach house, maybe. I want to settle down somewhere quiet where I won't be overwhelmed with all the aliens in the universe. Straik's going to be on the radar for a while thanks to his mother's issues with the law, so he has to keep his nose clean. That means no more piracy. He'll still need the ship for travel, of course, but it does mean a trimmed-down crew. Erzah's right to plan ahead."

"I might be staying here on Risda," Ruth-Ann says.

I pull out of her arms, shocked. "What?"

She shrugs. "I haven't decided yet, but Erzah's going to need human advice for his bar.”

A watery little snort escapes me. Erzah might act like he's wanting to be a bar kingpin, but the truth is...he is clueless about the business, just like most of the a’ani. Same with Aithar and Zaemen. "Port has no idea what they're getting into."

"Exactly. And he's going to need help with the books. I asked him what sort of inventory system he was going to use and he didn't know what inventory was."

"...and?" Ruth prompts.

"And what?" Ruth-Ann turns to her.

"And the chick that runs the baking stand is really hot? Salvotor told me all about her. You like her, don't you?"

"That has nothing to do with it," Ruth-Ann says primly and then tucks her hair behind her ears in that way she does when she's bluffing.

"Uh huh." Ruth clearly doesn't believe her. She nudges me again. "So Ruth-Ann is staying. Kaz is staying. I'm going. Straik is going. I mean, not right away, but eventually. What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," I whisper. I think of my coin, but I can't flip it. I can't. What if it makes a decision I hate? What if it's the wrong decision and I left it up to chance?

"If you stay on the ship, you'll always be Ruth's clone," Ruth-Ann says, tone blunt.

I flinch.

"Jesus Christ, stab her in the heart, why don't you?" Ruth exclaims.

It's harsh but...she's right. Ruth is married—not just mated, but officially married—to Lord Straik sa'Rin. I'll always be her sister, but I'll be secondary. The extra. The clone, because the crew knows I'm a clone of Ruth. They've never thought of her as a clone of me, just the other way around. Never mind that we're both clones.

Is that why Ruth-Ann is leaving? She wants to get out of Ruth's shadow? I'm a little surprised, because she's never indicated that she's unhappy or unsettled, like me. If anything, Ruth-Ann is the most settled of the three of us. Ruth is hotheaded and I'm a chicken. It's Ruth-Ann that's the logical one.

"I'm not saying it to be hurtful," Ruth-Ann continues. Her tone is even and mild. "I just know that Ruthie struggles with feeling a sense of self. Perhaps living away from your shadow will allow her to be more comfortable in her own skin. Give her time to be just Ruthie and not one of the Ruth-clones."

I stare at her. It sounds so reasonable and assured that I wonder if she's had these thoughts before. "I...I don't know."

"You can do it," Ruth-Ann says calmly. "You're stronger than you think. Why don't you try an experiment? Live in town for a week. Disappear into Port and see what it's like to be on your own. You've never been on your own, have you?"

I frown. "Of course I have. I have memories..." I trail off, because they're giving me sympathetic looks. Yeah, we all have memories. Memories of someone that we're not. Memories of the OG Ruth. "Right. Okay, yeah, ever since I ended up in space, I haven't been alone."

"I dare you, then," Ruth-Ann says. "I dare you to stay in town for a week by yourself. No help from anyone. Be independent for the first time."

Ruth gives her a look of disapproval. "I don't think she's ready."

I'm hurt that Ruth thinks so little of me. "It's just a week. I can do that."

"I mean, I don't know..." Ruth shrugs.

I nudge her, irritated. "I'll be just fine, thanks. It's just a week. That's nothing. And Port is safe. There's tons of humans and I can rent a room and no one will hurt me here. It's the perfect place to try out being on my own."

"If you're sure," Ruth drawls...and then a smile curves her mouth.

Ruth-Ann giggles.

Well, shit. I've walked into their trap. "You guys suck."

A few hours later, I have a bag packed and I head into Port with Zaemen at my side. Kazex is still working on the ship, and I've discreetly avoided him. I don't want him to know I'm going until I'm already gone.

The more I think about it, the more that I like the idea of being on my own for a week. I want to try it. I want to see if I can really be on my own, or if I'm so weak that I have to cling to Ruth or Ruth-Ann or Kazex for the rest of my life. I know I'm a much meeker sort than Ruth is. There's nothing wrong with being meek.

But I need to prove to myself that I'm not weak.

My sisters help me pack my bag, but they won't go into town with me. "You need to do that on your own," Ruth says. "We'll send Zaemen as a bodyguard, but beyond that, it needs to be all you, baby."

"I can do it." I want to lift my chin like a defiant child, but that's just silly. "It's just going into town."

"Even small steps can feel big when they're brand new," Ruth-Ann says sagely.

I hug them both, full of emotion, and then sling my bag over my shoulder. When I head down the ramp from the ship to the docks, Zaemen is at my side. He shoots me a few odd looks.

"This is weird, if you ask me," he says.

"I didn't ask you."

"So let me get this straight. You're going to stay in town for a week just to prove that you can be independent?"

"Yes."

"Then you're going to come back. And you expect to be different somehow?" He eyes me. "Port is nice and all but it ain't life-changing."

"It's to prove I can be on my own, without anyone else." I try to keep my tone pleasant, but his questions are starting to irritate me. He doesn't get it.

"What's wrong with needing other people?" Zaemen shakes his head at me as we step onto the motorized walkway. "When I first left the cloning labs, I didn't have anyone I could count on. I was separated from the others in my pool and sent to work by myself in a deep, dangerous part of a mine. They figured since I was a clone, that it wouldn't matter if I was lonely or bored. Because I didn't matter. Having friends around? Having people you can count on? People that are around even when you annoy them? That's a keffing gift."

I hear what he's saying. And I get it, I do. Finding my sisters and the crew of the Gaze— and Kazex—has been amazing. But they're not the problem here. I am. I need to prove to myself that I'm not a needy, useless person that can't stand on their own two feet. "I know," I tell him. "Which is why I'll be back. I'm not leaving for good. It's just a week."

"Mmhmm." He doesn't sound convinced.

We step off the walkway. "Just trust me. I need this."

The tiny town—if the cluster of buildings can even be called that, it’s more like two whole streets—spreads out before us. I already see people walking down the street, and an air-sled flies overhead. Somewhere in that cluster of buildings is Erzah's new building, the cantina to be. Somewhere on the street, there's the baking stall that drives Ruth-Ann absolutely bonkers. The air-sled parks not too far away and a human woman gets out. I don't recognize her face.

That's...kind of nice, actually. To see a woman that doesn't have my face.

There's a spring in my step when I head for the main street, only to be stopped by Zaemen. "You're good now?" When I nod, he continues. "So at what point do you want me to tell Kazex what you're up to?"

"Don't say anything to him. He'll figure it out soon enough." He's going to be hurt, but I'm hurt that he's leaving me.

Zaemen frowns fiercely. "You know he won't be happy."

"He'll just have to get over it." Even saying the words so callously hurts.

"If you say so." He hesitates and then gestures at me. "You want me to walk you to the boarding house?"

"No, I think I've got it." I smile and wave and then turn toward the street and march forward, resolute.

That resolution lasts for about a hundred feet. Because there are more people around. People inside the buildings. People on the street. Not tons, but just enough to make me nervous. They all stare at me, too. Part of me knows it's the piercings and the mohawk, but it still sends my anxiety soaring. What do they see when they look at me? Do they see a clone? Are there more Ruths here that I'm unaware of? Or are they just staring because I'm a stranger with a lot of face jewelry?

As I take a few more steps, I see an alien cross the street. It's one of the avians, and it reminds me that this isn't Earth. This isn't home. Panic makes me breathe harder. What if someone sees me walking alone and enslaves me again? What if they take me away? What if I lose everything?

What if I lose Kazex?

What if I lose my freedom?

Panic floods through me, and each step forward that I take feels enormous. Terrifying. I'm walking away from the ship, my friends, everything.

It's only a week, I remind myself. Just a week. You can do this.

Sweat trickles down my neck, even though it's a cool day. This place is safe. There are no slavers. I chant the words silently even as my breathing quickens and I grow more anxious. No slavers. No slavers. I can do this.

A woman comes out of a door into the street and nearly runs into me. We both squeal in alarm, and I nearly pass out.

"Oh, mercy, you startled me!" She grasps the front of her tunic and then gives a little laugh.

I can't laugh back. I'm gasping in terror, and the air seems too thin. Her eyes widen at my panic, and I manage to get out a strangled word. "Dorm?"

She points wordlessly, and I stagger toward the building across the street like a dying woman. It's fine. I've got this. It's fine.

It's just...I feel so alone.

No one's here to tell me to take deep breaths. No one's here to reassure me or make jokes to distract me from my panic. No one's coming, either, because I told them not to.

Why is this so ridiculously hard?

I manage to make my way into the boarding house. It's a plain building, like all of the others here in Port, built for convenience and not beauty. The interior has a desk opposite the front door and a rug laid out to welcome people. There's a vase with flowers in one corner, and a large stairwell opens up to what must be the rooms above. There's a hall for the first-floor rooms as well, and it smells like herbs inside. Herbs and lemon, I decide.

But...I'm here. I did it.

I made it here all by myself.

I grip the counter, sweating profusely, and dump my bag on the floor. There's not much in it, but I'm shaking so hard that it feels as if it weighs a million pounds.

"You okay?" the woman behind the counter says. She's a brunette about my age, with her hair pulled back into a no-nonsense bun. I don't recognize her face. "You don't look so well."

Funny, because I'm feeling better by the moment. Because I'm here. I made it, at least part of the way. Now I can just get a room upstairs and hide there for a week and prove to everyone that I can handle myself. "I'm okay."

Her brows go up but she shrugs. "All right."

"May I have a room please? I need one for a week."

She nods, giving me a cordial smile. "We have rooms. You prefer upstairs or downstairs?"

Oh god. I...I don't know. I have to make a choice? No one told me about choices. "Flip a coin," I say, trying to sound jolly and end up sounding forced. "Mine is in my bag."

"Er, how about we put you upstairs." She gives me a cheery smile and then starts typing on a datapad, her tongue sticking out with concentration as she works. I notice she's using an alien language to type, which means she's smart enough to have learned at least one written language since she's been stolen. "Give me your voucher and I'll get you taken care of."

"Voucher?"

She looks up with a frown. "From the custodians?"

"I don't have a voucher." My stomach clenches. "I have money. Credits."

The woman has a dismayed expression. "I have to save the boarding house rooms for refugees. I can't give you one unless you have a voucher from the custodians. You're human. I'm sure they'll give you one." She marches out from behind the desk and goes to the front door, activating it. It slides open and she points outside. "See that building with the rows of windows? That's the custodial office. I'm not sure how you missed it if you're new here, but go there and tell them Melody said you need a voucher. They'll get you fixed up. Then you can come back here and I'll get you a room."

I want to argue with her. Heck, I want to slap a pile of credits onto the desk and just beg her to give me a room. I want to go upstairs and hide. Instead, I force myself to pick up my bag and I put a frozen smile on my face. "Custodians?"

"Yup, just over there. Everyone's very nice, I promise." She gives me an encouraging smile. "We'll get you fixed right up."

I head back out, but instead of panicking this time, I take a deep breath and head for the custodial office. Strangely enough, the worst of the panic has passed. I made it to the dormitory and I didn't die. No one snatched me off the street. I can do this. It's like now that I've made it to one building, all of the anxiety has ebbed.

The custodial office looks like something out of a sitcom, like what I'd imagine an accounting office in outer space would look like. There's a waiting area, a bunch of desks behind a partition, and stacks of what looks like paperwork. A young mesakkah pauses at the sight of me as I enter and then comes forward. "Greetings, human female. May I help you with something?"

"I need a voucher." My voice is a little wobbly. "To stay at the dorm. I can pay."

"That won't be necessary. Follow me and I'll get you fixed up." He gives me a beaming smile, all sharp white teeth and gleaming caps on his horns. "My name is Custodian Ainar."

"Huh, I have an a'ani friend named Aithar."

"No relation," he says cheerfully. "But they're common names. It's a small universe."

Is it? Sometimes it doesn't feel like it. Most of the time it feels far too enormous and dangerous, especially for a human woman. Maybe a mesakkah alien sees it differently.

Custodian Ainar leads me to a tidy desk and I sit across from him, answering some basic questions. Am I in danger. When was I stolen from Earth. Do I have any relatives that I am aware of that were stolen at the same time as me. I fudge my answers, because I can't tell him that I'm a counterfeit clone. If anyone finds that out, they're supposed to exterminate me. Not that I think anyone on Risda would, but you can never be too careful.

When I'm done with Ainar's questions, he pulls out a card made of plas and scribbles something on it. "This voucher will get you a room and you can stay as long as you like here on Risda."

"I only need to stay a week."

"And if you want, you can apply to have a farm and homestead."

"...for a week?"

He leans forward, his tone delicate. "Most of our clients end up staying longer than they realize."

Oh. I guess that's true enough. The option's there if I want it, I suppose, though I don't see myself as much of a farmer. "Thanks, but I just want a room."

Aithar nods. "If your circumstances change, you just have to ask. Your voucher will be activated after you have your initial meeting with Bee."

"Bee?" I echo. "Who's Bee? I just want to go to my room." Am I going to have to meet everyone in town before they just let me hide away?

Ainar starts typing into his wrist comm quickly. "Bee is a human woman. She works with the refugees to ensure their needs are met. Some do not like to discuss their problems with aliens. I am sending her a message right now." He sounds thrilled about it, too.

I flop back in my chair, frustrated. Why is this so difficult? Everyone is nice, but they also won't let me just go into a nice quiet room and hide for the next week, like I'd planned. My sisters would laugh in my face if they saw me right now. Of course, picturing their amusement makes some of my irritation fade, and a reluctant smile curves my lips. At least once this is done, I'll have some good stories to tell.

Ten minutes later, Ainar jumps up from his desk, all eagerness. "Bee is here. Let me introduce you. Follow me."

I get up from my seat, shoulder my bag again, and follow the eager-to-please custodian out to the front of the office...

...and stop.

"Jesus Christ," I whisper.

Standing in the room is a small woman with rich brown skin and tightly curled hair pulled back in a low ponytail. She's short and curvy and wears a deep blue three-quarter tunic that flatters her figure. That's not what makes me swear.

Behind her? Is a monster.

I've gotten used to the fact that aliens are taller than humans. The a'ani are probably one of the shorter races, and they're still a good foot taller than me in general. The mesakkah are even taller, around seven feet, with their horns making them seem as if they loom over people.

This guy?

Bigger. Broader. Terrifying.

He's ugly, with a hairy face that looks like no alien I've seen, unnatural yellow eyes, and a permanent scowl on his face. His arms are crossed, he's dressed in all black, and he hovers just behind Bee as if he's about to attack someone. I've never been so scared of a stranger in my life, and the urge to race back to Ainar's desk and hide under it strikes me like a physical thing.

"Oh, his name is not Jesus Christ," Ainar says cheerfully. "His name is⁠—"

"Victor, and he's my husband," Bee interrupts, a pleasant expression on her face. She puts her hand out in greeting. "And he's not keen on people that stare at him."

There's a hint of reproach in her tone and I immediately flush, embarrassed. "I'm sorry," I say, grabbing her hand and pumping it in a handshake. "That was rude of me. I wasn't expecting you to be accompanied. It's nice to meet both of you, Bee, Victor."

Once Bee releases my hand, I immediately put it out for Victor to shake.

He grunts with a sound that might be approval, shakes it, and Bee's smile grows wider. "I heard you're new to Port. Shall we show you around?"

"Actually, I'm not all that new," I confess. "I'm with a ship that's been docked here for a while. But I need to be on my own for a bit. I...well, it's kind of a long story."

"My friend, we love long stories here on Risda." She gestures that I should begin talking and heads for the door. Victor steps forward and activates it, then stands in the doorway protectively, as if he needs to shield Bee from even automated doors. She gives him a tiny smile as she passes and then looks at me again. "You can tell us as we take a tour of the town."

"Oh, um, okay." Just how much should I tell her? I decide the sanitized version is best. "My name is Ruthie, and I'm here with my sisters, Ruth and Ruth-Ann."

"Wait. You and your sisters all have the same name?"

"We're triplets," I say as if that explains everything.

She arches a brow at me. "Your mama must have really liked the name."

"You have no idea." Maybe I should have come up with a completely different name so no one realizes I'm a clone, but I suppose it's too late now. "I just go by Ruthie, though. You can tell me apart by the short hair and the piercings. Anyhow, we arrived here on a ship called the Scarlet Gaze..."

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

KAZEX

I don't panic when Ruthie's not in our quarters after I finish my practices with Sakkar and Dopekh. She wanders the ship or hangs out with her sisters when she gets restless. I don't panic when she's not in the rec room, either. My thoughts are full of the coin and the kinds of enticing games we can get into with it. Heads, I kiss her down to her toes. Tails, I start at her toes...

I do panic when I have the ship scan for her bio signals and nothing is found on board. I race down the hall, looking for her, and pause at the rec room when I see someone digging through the couch cushions. It's just Zaemen, though.

"Oh, are you looking for Ruthie?" Zaemen asks, moving to the gambling table and digging through piles of chips and sticks, looking for something. "She's gone. Hey, have you seen my lucky medallion? I can't find it."

"What do you mean, she's gone?"

"I took her down to Port earlier. She said not to tell you and that she'd be back when she was back."

It takes two strides for me to get to Zaemen's side, and then I have him by the collar, hauling him into the air. "You what?"

"You're gonna rip my uniform⁠—"

"Why the kef did you take Ruthie into Port and leave her alone?"

"Uh, cause she asked me to?"

I drop him immediately. He adjusts his collar, unoffended. Everyone knows I have a hair-trigger temper when it comes to Ruthie. "Why did she ask you to take her to town?"

"I dunno. She had a bag with her, though."

My heart skips a beat. A bag? And she was going into Port? And she didn't say when she'd be back? "Was she upset about something? How did she look? Was she scared?" I fire the questions at him, rapid pace. "How big of a bag was it? Did she bring credits with her? Did someone say something to make her cry?"

"Brother, I don't keffing know." He raises his hands in the air. "I was told to go with her up until she got to town and then come back."

I rake a hand through my hair, agitated. "I can't believe you let her go alone."

"Kaz, she's her own person⁠—"

I growl, turning on him. "She's my person!"

"Oookay, friend." He gives me a slow, exaggerated pat on my shoulder. "You're going to need to calm down. Ruthie can handle herself⁠—"

"But she shouldn't have to," I blurt out, and then race from the room. It's no use talking to Zaemen. Not when I could be in town, rescuing Ruthie even as we speak. I head for the armory first, shoving a blaster, two smoke bombs, and a pair of stun-cuffs into my belt. I add a knife since there's still room in my belt, and consider a stun-stick, then discard it in favor of another smoke bomb. I'm not sure what I'll need, but I'll comm for reinforcements if I have to.

One thing is for sure—no one's going to touch a hair on Ruthie's head without answering to me first.

I race out of the room.

A moment later, I race back in, grab the stun-stick, and then race back out again, heading for the docks.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

RUTHIE

I try to show interest in the town's amenities as Bee carries on a very one-sided conversation about Port's tiny, shared library. "We don't have enough books to go around, of course. We're lucky to have any at all! But we do have one local woman who pens stories for the women here. Her name is Kim, and she's just the best storyteller. Once we get you in your room, we'll get you on the comm list and⁠—"

"Trouble," says Victor, speaking up for the first time. 

I look over just in time to see Kazex, bristling with weapons, heading in our direction.

Oh no.

"Ruthie," he calls out, a determined look on his face. He pulls out a baton from his belt and flings it out, and it extends outward, the tip lighting up. "Stay back. I'll save you."

"I'm not in danger," I call out.

Doesn't matter. He has his sights on Victor and approaches him with vicious determination. Victor cracks his knuckles. "Touch me with that stick and you'll regret it, clone."

"Touch my woman and you'll regret it, splice." There's a wild look in his eyes as they circle around each other in the street.

Oh god, Kaz is going to run up against the brick wall that is Victor, and then he'll get killed. "Stop this," I call out, even as the men start to move.

To my surprise, Kaz takes the offensive. He twirls the strange metallic stick like a staff, whirling it through the air and then over his head, creating a barrier between him and Victor. But the bigger, ugly alien hunches his shoulders and crouches, and I know he's readying to strike. Shit. I have to do something.

I rush forward, mentally bracing myself to get smacked with Kaz's staff. Instead, he rolls neatly to the side, more agile than a gymnast, and the staff goes flying across the street. For the first time, his gaze focuses on me. "Ruthie, I almost struck you!" His attention flicks back to Victor, and he surges forward, pulling me behind him.

Immediately, I fling my arms around Kaz's neck. "Stop fighting already! Noodle! Noodle!"

"Noodle?" Victor draws up short, shooting a look over at Bee, who shrugs.

But Kaz has stopped. He relaxes, turning to me. His gaze sweeps over my body. "You're all right? No one has hurt you?" He glares at Bee and Victor. "They can't take you and get away with it. I'll call for back-up⁠—"

I grab his shoulders and shake him. "Will you freaking listen to me? I'm fine. These people are my friends. They're showing me around town."

He pauses. Confusion flits over his face. "Showing you around town? Why?"

"Because I'm staying here for the next week."

His eyes widen. "Ruthie, why?"

I relax a little, dropping my hands. "It's something I need to do."

"I...don't understand." Kaz narrows his eyes at me. He glances at the two people waiting behind us, then slides an arm around my waist and steers me away from them. "Can we talk for a moment?"

"We're talking right now. I'm not trying to be difficult, Kaz. It's just...this is something I need to do."

"Staying in town? For a week?" When I nod, he grunts assent. "Very well. I'll pack myself a bag⁠—"

"By myself," I blurt out.

That makes him pause. "By...yourself?"

I nod again.

It's like I've kicked a puppy. A devastated look flashes across Kazex's face. "Have I done something to offend you?"

"Not at all." I take his hands in mine and press a kiss to his knuckles. "This is all about me. I worry that I'm making decisions in my life based off of a fear of being alone. My sisters challenged me to live on my own for a week, just to see if I can. I haven't been alone since I ended up in space, Kaz. They're right to worry about me. If I can't prove to myself that I can be alone, I can't trust any decisions I make."

"But Ruthie...you know I love you. More than anything." His dark eyes are so full of hurt.

"I do know that. But I need to trust in myself before I can start thinking about you and me. I need to do this to clear my head. I hope that makes sense."

He shakes his head slowly. "It doesn't make sense to me...but if it's what you want, then I'll go along with it. I've always said I'd follow you anywhere and I mean it."

I bite my lip. "I need to do this by myself. If you love me, go back to the ship and wait for me to return, all right?"

The wounded expression remains on his face, but he runs a hand down his jaw. "Very well. One week?"

"Just one. Then I'll be back."

"Can...I kiss you?"

I move forward and tilt my face up. "I thought you'd never ask."

He kisses me, and it's full of passion and frustration, yearning and need. I know he doesn't understand this, because he doesn't understand why we need to be apart. But I need to do this, if nothing else, to prove to myself that I can. It's another notch in the belt that belongs to Ruthie alone.

Even if it feels like I'm walking away from the best thing in my life.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

KAZEX

I'm justified in my shit mood for the rest of the day. After all, it's not every guy that has to watch his female walk away from him. I don't care if it's just temporary. I keffing hate it.

Everything in me says that I need to go and get Ruthie. To protect her like I always do. It's my job. It's my purpose. I can't stand the thought of her being afraid and me not there to protect her. Me not there to watch over her and to ensure she's safe.

But she doesn't want me around, so I beat the stuffing out of a punching bag in the gym for a few hours. When it deflates from abuse, I give up and head for the showers, soaked in sweat. My head's still a mess, though.

I thought we were making progress. I thought she felt safe and secure with her coin in hand. I know she said this is something she has to do, but I can't shake the feeling that I've somehow keffed things up. That I haven't been enough for her.

It's eating me alive.

It's been all of six hours since she left. I'm never going to make it through the week.

Alcohol, I decide. That's what I need.

I dress and head for the mess hall. It's not empty—Dopekh is there with Erzah and Ruth-Ann and a mess of bottles in front of them.

"Oh, look at the time," Ruth-Ann says as I enter the room. "I need to go shave my legs or something." She hurries out.

Erzah frowns after her. "But we are still tasting drinks!"

"I'll help you taste," I say, thumping down into a seat beside them. I grab the bottle closest to me and tip it back. Spicy, acrid ale from an exclusive planet hits the back of my throat and I cough. "This one's brutal."

I still take another swig, though.

Dopekh eyes me sympathetically. He has a bottle in front of him, but he's not drinking much. "Bad day?"

"The worst," I agree, wiping my mouth and setting the bottle aside. "This one is terrible."

"It's popular on Haal Ui," Erzah says glumly. "You don't think humans will like it?"

I give him a bitter smile. "I don't know what humans are thinking. Ever." I grab another bottle, pop the top off, and take another big swig. This one is an ooli brew, and far more to my liking. "Better."

"We can't keep tasting for our human clients if our human taster just left," Erzah says miserably. "How will we know what they want?"

"Cheer up," Dopekh tells him. "We can narrow it down to a selection of what we think humans will like and approach Ruth-Ann in the morning. For tonight, we can help Kazex get drunk. He looks like he needs it."

I lift the bottle of ooli brew and then chug it until my face grows numb. Getting better.

Erzah eyes me, a baffled expression on his face. He studies the logo on another bottle before setting it aside and pulling a different one toward him. "This isn't like you, Kaz. Is something wrong, brother?"

Everything is wrong. Everything is awful. Everything is terrible and my face is numb but my mind isn't. Not yet. "Ruthie is staying in town," I tell them, my words morose and full of the betrayal I feel. "And she won't let me join her."

"What happened?" Dopekh asks. "She's seemed happy lately. Is she joining the human colony here?"

Despair threatens to overwhelm me and I set my drink on the table. "Kef, I hope not. She says she's going to live on her own for a week, just to prove that she can. She says it's not me. That I'm not a problem...but I cannot help but feel as if I have done something wrong. Perhaps I'm not a good kisser." The thought is devastating. I replay our last few kisses in my mind. Surely...surely they were as good for her as they were for me?

"I don't think it's you," Dopekh says carefully. He picks up his bottle and turns it in his hands, back and forth, not drinking. "Maybe she wants to get out and see what Port has to offer. Maybe she wants to live as a human for a little while. Perhaps she feels like being here on the ship with us is holding her back." 

I let out a groan of anguish and bury my face in my hands. "That is exactly what I am afraid of."

"You're not making him feel better, Dopekh!" Erzah shoots him an appalled stare. "He is here so we can cheer him up, not make things worse."

"I know," Dopekh says miserably. "Trust me when I say I know what it is like to have to let the one you love be free. Even if it means they cannot be at your side."

I lift my head, eyeing Dopekh. He's seemed rather unhappy lately. I've been so wrapped up in my own emotional whirlwind with Ruthie that I haven't stopped to ask if he's all right. I thought he and Salvotor were a thing, but now that I'm looking back, they've been on opposite sides of the ship more often than not. "Is that what's happened with you and Salvotor?"

Dopekh takes a careful sip of his drink, then goes back to morosely staring into it. "Salvotor led a very sheltered existence prior to joining us on the ship. He needs to experience what the universe has to offer. I can't hold him back."

Holding. The thought makes me sad. "I thought Ruthie wanted to be held."

"You're sulking," Erzah tells us. "Both of you."

"Of course we are." I pull another bottle of alcohol toward me. "It's keffing miserable to realize that the one you love doesn't want you around."

"Look at it this way," Erzah says, nudging a different bottle toward me. "You're clear to help me set up my cantina. Taste this one."

I glare at him.

"Not smart," Dopekh says. He's glaring, too, as if indignant on my behalf. "Not smart at all, Erzah."

Erzah looks surprised at our irritation. "What'd I say? It does make things easier."

Easier for him, maybe. Meanwhile, my heart feels as if it's being ripped out of my chest. I ignore the bottle he sent toward me and drain the ooli brew. I stand up with a belch and pat my gut. It's sloshing with cheap alcohol, but I can still stand straight, so that's a good thing. "I'm heading into town."

"What? This late at night? Why?" Erzah gives me a curious glance. "Nothing will be open, not even the cantina. Are you going to check out the competition? Stare into the windows?"

Right now, I don't give a kef about the competition. I care about my woman. "I'm gonna go guard Ruthie's door. Like I always do."

Dopekh snorts, picking up his drink and draining it. "Good luck with that. She's staying at the boarding house with the other human females and if I don't miss my guess, they won't let an alien male anywhere near it."

He's probably right, but I don't care. "Then I'll wait across the street and watch the door."

It doesn't matter if I'm in Ruthie's room or not. I can watch over her from afar. I'll do whatever it takes to ensure that she's safe and comfortable, even if I can't be at her side. Ruthie might be trying to figure herself out, but I've always known how I feel about her.

Nothing has changed for me. I still love her with every cell in my cloned body.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

RUTHIE

Being alone at night is completely and utterly terrifying.

It doesn't matter that I'm locked in a room by myself. It doesn't matter that the doors to the dormitory are locked and the town is full of humans. It doesn't matter that there are Port custodians walking the streets to ensure that everyone is safe. It's that I'm completely by myself. There's no Kazex at the door to hear if I have a nightmare. There's no one down the hall to come get me if there's a problem. I'm alone.

It's unnerving. It's making it impossible to sleep.

I clutch the knife I brought with me as I huddle under the blankets and listen to the unfamiliar noises. The wind howls outside. The air conditioner in the building chugs and groans. Occasionally there's a metallic sound that the front desk lady told me to ignore. That the building settles when the sun goes down and the metal roof contracts. Sometimes I hear footsteps down the hall.

All of these are normal things. I tell myself this, even as I tremble with fear.

I've never wanted Kazex to be at my side more than tonight. He'd hold me close and reassure me. He'd guard the door so no one could get in. He'd take care of me. I miss him fiercely, and I know I can just go back to the ship. I can...but I don't.

By the time dawn approaches, I'm exhausted and covered in sweat.

But I did it. I made it through the first night alone. The sun comes up and I want to laugh with sheer joy at the feeling of relief that sweeps through me. I was scared, but I did it anyhow.

It's like something in my head unlocks after that. 

I fall asleep at dawn and wake at some point around noon...and I feel like a new person. No nightmares plagued me. I slept deeply even though I was by myself. I shower and dress, then head out onto the street because why not?

I visit the general store in Port and talk to the bird-alien behind the counter. He pushes me to buy a scented candle and some herbal soap, because he's convinced humans like that sort of thing. Maybe he's right, because I buy one of each. I wander over to the bakery stand that gives Ruth-Ann such conniptions and buy a few cookies. They're hard and grainy, but it reminds me of home anyhow, and I buy a few more for dinner.

Then, I wander back to the dorm. It's early, but I change into my night tunic because I can do whatever I want.

It's...rather heady. I hang out in my pajamas and eat noodles in bed like a kid, because I can.

The days pass quicker than I thought they would. I expected to be frozen with terror at every moment, but after that first night, I feel relaxed and happy. I can do this. I'm even glad that my sisters goaded me into this experiment, because I feel stronger and less fragile. Less afraid of the universe.

It's a little lonely, though. I know it's only for a week, so that doesn't make it so bad, but I miss Kazex. It's not that I need him to be at my side, guarding me. It's that I miss our conversations. I miss laughing with him, or snuggling up against him and feeling his warm body against mine. I miss his grin and his sometimes ridiculous suggestions. I play with my coin, thinking of things we can do when we get back together. I'm lonely, but I know he'd want me to be able to do this on my own.

I haven't seen him since the first day I came into town, though. Part of me is a little absurdly hurt that he hasn't come by. I know I'm being ridiculous, but I thought it seemed like something he'd do—show up regardless. I try not to read too much into it.

On my own, though, there's nothing to do but think. I've had a few nice conversations with two of the women here—Melody at the front desk, who let me borrow a tattered magazine from Earth that I've now read cover to cover twice, and there's a woman named Daphne that sews custom clothing for people here in Port that don't have the time or inclination. I buy a needle and some thread and start modifying my own clothing, fitting it closer to my body instead of letting it hang loose. I'm not great with the alterations, but a few tucks here and there and it looks a thousand percent better.

The days pass, and I don't hate being alone after all. There are parts of it that are really nice—like being able to make a mess just because there's no one around but me. I like sleeping in and sprawling on the bed.

But I still like being with Kazex best. Missing him is strange, because I'm not a tragic heroine flinging myself in my bed and sobbing with loneliness. It's like...a bowl of unflavored noodles. They'll fill you up. They're probably even nutritious. But they're tasteless and unexciting. That's what life is like without Kazex. Unexciting.

Everything is better with him. Meals are more fun. Bedtime is more fun. Waking up is more fun. Kissing and talking and touching and even just breathing in the same air—it's all wonderful. I'm not falling to pieces without him, but I'd still rather be at his side.

It's good that I've proved to myself I can do this, but I miss my guy. I'm ready to curl up in bed with him. At least my piercing has healed up, thanks to the intense healing cream. It's like it's been pierced for months now and the intense sensitivity has turned down to a low simmer. Sometimes I touch it and wonder what Kaz will think.

Only two more days to go, though.

"Be careful," Melody warns me as I head out of the dorm on the morning of day six. "There's some creep that's been caught lurking in the streets at night. The custodians have taken him away a few times now but he keeps coming back. Keep an eye out."

I nod, running a hand down my newly-refitted tunic. It fits almost perfectly—the sleeves are a little tight under the arms and I need to ask Daphne how to fix that. But I look great, and I'm thinking about dyeing the tips of my mohawk just because it's something to do. "I'll be careful. I'm just going to the bakery stall and the store. Then I'll be right back."

"Take a weapon." She shakes a finger at me. "You can never be too careful. I don't care how pleasant this planet is. We're still not home."

Words of wisdom. I think about Victor and how closely he'd hovered over Bee, as if she was a precious gem that he needed to protect. Kazex acts that way around me on the ship, I think wistfully, and I'm hit with a pang of longing for my a'ani sweetheart.

One more day after today, though.

I retrieve my knife from upstairs and head out. After buying a few sad-looking baked goods, I head over to the general store and look for something that could work as a hair bleach. Just about anything will work as a dye as long as I bleach the hell out of my hair first.

Skritch is behind the counter, the nosy avian that sold me the soap. He's right about one thing—I do love the way it smells. Every time I move, I smell fresh flowers. Maybe he'll have an idea of what I can use. "Excuse me, Mr. Skritch? I'm looking for something to bleach hair follicles."

"Bleach?" he asks, ruffling his wing feathers. "In what way? Like a deep cleaning?"

"No, I need to remove all the color here," I say, holding up the hair at the front of my mohawk. "Removing the color will change the texture of the hair, making it more porous and it'll hold onto another color better."

He chirps, moving across the store to my side. "So you want to remove the color and then put a color back on...?"

"Something like that." When he puts it that way, it sounds idiotic. "I want it to be a different color, though."

"Mmm, let me see what we have." He picks through a counter full of small bottles labeled with alien logos, clucking to himself as he thinks. I stand nearby, trying to decipher the writing with the few letters I've learned of the mesakkah alphabet. The fonts aren't exactly helping me, though⁠—

Someone hammers on the window, making both myself and Skritch jump. I turn, and to my surprise, it's Salvotor. He's one of the crew on the Scarlet Gaze, and Dopekh's love interest. He shoots me an excited look, gesturing, and then races for the door. "I found her, Erzah," he bellows, just as the doorway slides open.

"Can I help you?" Skritch asks, drawing himself up and fluffing his neck feathers in the way he does when he's annoyed.

"I was looking for Ruthie, but she's right here." Salvotor bounds across the store. "You gotta come talk to Erzah. He's been looking all over for you."

"Is something wrong?" I ask, even as Skritch hands me a small bottle and then another. He hands me two more before I run out of the ability to hold everything and give him a polite smile. "I'll start with this, thank you. Ring me up?"

"Can I interest you in more soap? We just got a fresh batch and you humans love smelling like plants."

"Just this, please." I move to the counter and Salvotor leans against it, twitchy like an over-caffeinated kid. "What's Erzah want? Tell him I can help him with the cantina when I get back. It's two days from now⁠—"

"It's not about the cantina. It's about Kaz."

I freeze, my arms prickling with goosebumps. Thunder roars in my ears. "What about Kaz?" I manage to ask. "What's wrong?"

Skritch mentions my total, but I don't even notice how much it is. I'm too focused on Salvotor and the roaring in my ears. To think that while I've been hanging around in my room, bored out of my mind, something terrible has happened to Kazex. Maybe there was an accident on the ship. Maybe the wiring. Oh god. What if he's in med-bay right now and I'm sitting here buying hair dye?

Salvotor yawns, watching as my purchases are bagged, and I want to shake him. Why is he so calm right now? Why won't he say what's going on? Is it something that Skritch isn't supposed to hear? Piracy news, perhaps?

Maybe that's it. Maybe Kaz has taken a commission on another corsair ship. Maybe he's leaving without me. The thought staggers me with how painful it is. But...no. Kaz wouldn't do that. He loves me. He said he'd wait forever for me. Forever is longer than five fucking days.

I take the bag handed to me and head outside. Salvotor follows me, taking his sweet time, and I want to grab him and shake some fucking urgency into him. The moment we get out onto the street, I whirl on him. "Spit it out."

"Wow, Ruthie. I don't think I've ever heard you use that tone." He gives me an astonished look. "For a moment there, you sounded just like Ruth."

It takes everything I have not to nab him by the collar and just start choking. "Tell me what's going on with Kaz. Right now."

"Erzah—"

"I'm not waiting for Erzah! Spit it out!"

He flinches backward. "Jeez. Well, Erzah was going to tell you that you need to talk to Kaz. We're supposed to leave you alone—Kazex says so—but Erzah says he's costing him a fortune and he needs his credits for the cantina."

I focus on every word coming out of Salvotor's mouth...but none of them are making sense. "What are you talking about ? Why is Kaz costing him a fortune?"

"Oh. Because he keeps getting arrested and Erzah keeps having to pay the fines to bail him out."

"WHAT?" My shriek echoes in the street, and I wince when a woman passing by turns and gives me a paranoid look. I move closer to Salvotor. "Why is he being arrested? What the fuck is going on?"

"You," Salvotor says mildly. "You're what's going on. You're here in town, and Kaz can't camp out on your doorstep to watch over you, so he's been hanging out on the street at night and watching the dorm. But some of the locals are complaining and so he got arrested. Every night he keeps doing the same thing and every night he keeps getting arrested all over again. He says he won't stop, either. That he made a promise to keep you safe and he's going to keep his word."

I press my hand to my heart, and I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Probably both.

My sweet, patient Kazex is the creep that Melody warned me about.

He hasn't forgotten about me, either. He's giving me space...while keeping to a promise he made to me when we first met. He said he'd always look out for me, and he is. He doesn't care if he gets arrested. He's determined to take care of me.

It's the most ridiculous, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me and it fills me with affection and love. "Is Erzah with him right now?"

"Erzah is tapped out on credits," Salvotor says. "He's trying to borrow some from Jerzec. He tried to borrow from me, too, but I spent all of mine."

"I've got credits," I tell him, patting my money pouch. "Where is he right now?"

"In jail." Salvotor looks uncertain for a moment. "We're not supposed to let you know, though."

"I'll pretend to be very surprised," I reassure him.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-NINE

KAZEX

Port's tiny jail cell is very nice. Ruthie would call it “candy ass,” even though I'm not entirely sure what candy is. Something pleasant, I think. That suits this jail. The environmentals are set to the perfect level—not too hot, not too cold. There's a nook for a lavatory, a sink with clean water that comes out of the tap. The cot even has a pillow and a soft plas-blanket. I remember one time Jerzec got us into trouble on Three Nebulas Station and we were thrown into a cell for two days before Lord Straik pulled us out. There had been no bed in that shithole, and when the sink was turned on, nothing came out but bugs. 

So yes, this is candy ass indeed.

Even if it wasn't, I have no regrets over my situation. I've been brought here every night, because I refuse to leave my post. I've picked a spot in the street where I can stand and watch over the dormitory's entrance and exit, both. I lean up against a wall and wait, watching over my Ruthie from afar.

The custodians are not a fan of my plan. Each night, they say I'm distressing the other females in the town and I need to leave. And while I feel badly that I'm causing human females to worry, my only concern is Ruthie. Every night, I refuse to leave.

Every night, I get arrested.

Erzah's been bailing me out in the mornings. I've run through most of my petty credits and now Erzah has gone through his. Erzah is not happy with me, either. He says he needs his funds for the cantina. And he does...but again, my concern is Ruthie. I don't mind going to jail every night if it means she gets watched over.

Because I can also see the dormitory from my jail cell. If anyone looks like they're up to no good, I'll make sure the custodians get on it.

I keep my post at the small window near the ceiling, and I'm rewarded with a brief glimpse of Ruthie as she heads down the street. Kef, she looks gorgeous. Smiling and happy and just...the most beautiful creature. My heart fills with longing and I press my nose to the plas, hoping to catch another glimpse of her.

A familiar-looking form races into the shop, and I squint because it looked like Salvotor. The gray-blue skin and shorter, stocky frame is distinct. But he's supposed to be staying out of her way. I made everyone promise to leave her alone so she could do this properly. Keffing fool isn't keffing listening. I growl at the plas window and push against it, wondering if I can pop it out of place and climb out. Is it possible to get Salvotor arrested at this point? Just to get him to leave her alone?

My growl turns into a groan when Ruthie emerges from the store, Salvotor jogging at her side. She strides across the street, heading directly for the custodial office.

Heading right for me.

Kef. I guess it's too much to hope that Salvotor kept his mouth shut.

I pace in my cell impatiently, waiting for the inevitable arrival of Ruthie and Salvotor and my jailers. Part of me is looking forward to seeing Ruthie—it's been days since I've seen her close and I need to reassure myself that she's fine, that she's thriving despite the fact that I'm not with her. A larger part of me is inwardly tensing at how mad she's going to be that I didn't hold up my end of the bargain. That I've been spying on her all this time.

She's going to be furious. I keffing hate it when Ruthie is furious at me.

A short time later, she enters the jail, followed closely behind by Salvotor (who has a guilty look on his face) and Custodian Khex (who seems more annoyed than anything). Her expression is unreadable as she approaches the cell and eyes the clear, impenetrable divider that holds me inside the small room. The partition goes up and Custodian Khex steps forward, indicating that I should hold out my wrists. "I'll take those cuffs off you."

I hold them out obediently, and Ruthie crosses her arms over her chest. 

Salvotor clears his throat. "Uh, I'm gonna head out and tell Erzah you're good. See you guys back on the ship."

Then he runs like hell. Coward. As if a furious Ruthie is something to be terrified of.

Well, he's not wrong, there. I eye her, trying to gauge her reaction. Her expression is impassive, and I try to figure out the best tactic to deal with things. Should I go apologetic? Because I am sorry that she's mad. Unashamed? Because I am—I'd do so again in a heartbeat.

Ultimately, I go for the tried and true—I play it stupid. I give her a wide smile. "Ruthie! You're looking gorgeous today. What a pleasant surprise to see you here."

"She paid your bail," Khex says when Ruthie is silent. He pockets the cuffs and eyes me, smirking. "You're free to go. I trust we won't see you again tonight?"

"Anything's possible," I say cheerfully. Especially since Ruthie isn't coming back for at least one to two more nights. I'll be out watching for her regardless.

Khex just rolls his eyes and walks away.

Ruthie remains. She arches a pierced brow at me as I rub my wrists. They don't hurt, but I can still feel the hum of the cuffs even now with them gone. "You look fantastic," I repeat. Because she does. I could happily drink in the sight of her for the rest of my life. "Sorry if Salvotor is causing problems. I told the others to leave you alone."

She tilts her head, giving me a curious look. "You want to explain to me what's going on?"

"What happens if I say no?" I grin.

"Quit being cute."

"You think I'm cute?" This is getting better and better.

Her nostrils flare and she takes a step toward me. "Just answer the question, Kaz. Tell me what's going on. Why are you in jail?"

"You sure you want to hear this?"

"Oh, yeah." She huffs a hard little laugh. "Do I ever."

She's definitely not happy with the situation. Grimacing, I decide to spill out the truth instead of hiding it because I really hate it when she gets mad at me. "Well, I know this plan of staying in town for a week by yourself meant a lot to you. And I didn't want to do anything to mess it up. But at the same time...I told you I would always watch out for you. I'm your protector, and I'm not about to stop. So I figured I could watch out for you from across the street. I positioned myself in a spot where I could keep an eye on both entrances to the dormitory and I've been guarding it."

Her annoyance changes to exasperation. "Kaz. You're not supposed to."

"I know I'm not." I rake a hand through my hair, frustrated. "I know you need to do this on your own. And I've kept out of your way. I swear I have. But I can't just not look after you. You're everything to me, Ruthie. There's nothing that exists for me in this universe if you aren't here. And I'm not going to trust that to a couple of overworked custodians. You're the best thing in this galaxy and I intend to protect you, regardless of where you are. I'm sorry if that means I'm getting in your way. Actually, no. I'm not all that sorry. Because I'd do it again. I'd do it a thousand times. I⁠—"

She moves forward, crossing the brief distance between us, and grabs my collar. With that, she hauls me down against her and kisses me fiercely. There's no tongue, just a firm press of her lips to mine, but it manages to be full of longing. Ruthie pulls back and stares up at me, her expression brimming with emotion. "I love you."

I'm utterly floored. "You...do?"

She nods, rubbing her nose against mine. "I do, and I don't mind that you were watching over me. I think it's very sweet."

I'm stunned into silence for a long moment. "I have to admit, that wasn't the reaction I thought you'd have. I could have sworn you'd be furious at me for interfering."

"You didn't interfere, though. You let me do my own thing." Her fingers stroke my jaw even as she cups my face, and the way she looks at me makes me feel as if she missed me, too. "I was proving to myself that I could handle things on my own. That I wouldn't break down without someone there to prop me up for reassurance. I've proved everything to myself that I need to. I know now that if I had to be on my own, I'd be fine with it." Ruthie's smile grows wider. "I just don't want to be."

I'm surprised at her words. "Is that what you were trying to do? I could have told you all along that you'd be just fine on your own, Ruthie. You're a survivor. That doesn't mean you don't feel weak now and then. It just means that even if you do, you keep on going. I've never doubted that you're strong inside. Not even for a moment."

She pulls me in and kisses me again, firm and intense. "Is it weird that your confidence in me is making me hot?"

"Kef no. I love making you hot." I love this side of her. Actually, I love all sides of her. I love that Ruthie is finding her confidence, just because it means a lot to her. I love her no matter what. I kiss her back, nipping at her lower lip. "Thanks for paying my bail. Erzah was getting kinda pissed at me for spending his credits."

"We can pay Erzah back," she says easily. "But later. For now, let's go up to my room. It's not far from here."

"Your room?"

"In the dorm." The look she gives me is heated. "I want to do things to you. I've missed you, you know."

I groan, because I've missed her, too. It's like being whole again now that she's here at my side. That she's feeling frisky is just a bonus. "Do we need to ditch Salvotor? Or the custodians?"

"Salvotor thinks I'm furious at you. He's going to make himself scarce." She grins at me, the delicate loop in her lower lip moving as her smile stretches. "And the custodians won't arrest you as long as you're not loitering in the street. The only place you're loitering tonight is with me."

"Sounds like a dream," I murmur, and when she takes my hand, I gladly let her lead me away.

I'd follow this female anywhere.

KAZEX

I'm in a besotted haze as Ruthie leads me out of the custodial office and into the street. She waves to a few women that we pass by, ignoring the curious looks they give me. It looks as if she's made a few friends in the week that she's been in town and I'm glad. I don't like the thought of her sitting up in her room, alone and afraid.

The dormitory has a human female manning the front desk, and she frowns at me as Ruthie and I enter. "You! You're the creep!"

"He was just looking out for me," Ruthie explains, turning to give me a sweet smile. "Melody, meet Kazex. He's my mate."

I want to puff my chest out with delight at her words. Her mate. Hers. This is the first time she has ever claimed me, and in front of another to boot. My heart swells with pride. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise," she says, although the suspicious expression doesn't leave her face. She gives me a tight, polite smile and then turns back to Ruthie. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"I'll be fine, I promise." Ruthie squeezes my hand, tugging me after her. "Come on. I'll show you where I've been staying."

I let Ruthie pull me along, utterly content to be hers.

Her mate.

Truly, the best two words in the universe.

She opens a door at the end of the hall and steps inside. I follow after, and I'm surprised at the sight before me. The room is exactly what I expected it to be—one narrow bed, a small table next to a window, and minimal decorations. What surprises me is the mess. Normally Ruthie is fairly tidy, keeping our quarters neat and always making the bed. This room is chaos. The bedsheets are all balled up at one end of the bed, and dirty clothes are strewn all over the floor. Wrappers from the bakery stand are on the floor, and the table is covered with small boxes from the same place, and snack foods from the general store. As I stare at the surroundings, Ruthie grabs a package of dried noodles and hops onto the bed, folding her legs under her and reclining on the mound of blankets. "It's a mess, isn't it?"

She sounds proud of the fact. "It is. A deliberate mess?"

Ruthie nods at me. "I wanted to see how I felt about not cleaning up after myself. Ruth-Ann is totally anal about keeping her things tidy, you know? And I wanted to see how I felt about cleaning up if it was just me alone. Turns out I'm a slob."

I love the delighted grin she shoots at me as she wriggles on the bed. "I'm all right with that."

"I know. You're all right with everything about me. That's one of the things I love most about you." Her expression turns sweet and she lifts one of her boots into the air. "Take my shoe off for me?"

I do, getting to work on the fasteners. I love seeing her happy and carefree. It's such a relief. I've been so worried that she's been hiding away in terror, unable to cope. "I like seeing you like this. You should have more faith in how strong you are."

"Oh, I'm a weenie," Ruthie tells me, crunching down on dried noodles. "The first night alone I was terrified and I jumped at every noise. But then the morning came, and I was fine. I realized I could do hard things and it felt like it opened a door for me. That even though I was scared, I still did it. It's like...something in my brain healed just a bit more. Does that make sense?"

"It does." I know how revelatory it felt after I had been freed, how everything that I could suddenly do on my own, without fear of reprisal, felt like a gift. I'd run amok, drinking and smoking and gambling and living as hard as I could for a while, just to prove to myself that I could. "Do you need me to leave you? So you can keep exploring this new freedom?"

"Nope. I've proved everything to myself." She nudges my abdomen with one sock-covered toe and wiggles her eyebrows at me. "Does the mess in here bother you? Do I need to clean the place up before we start touching?"

Does the mess bother me?

Bother me? We could be surrounded by a Threshian army and I'd still want to touch her. A few wrappers is nothing at all. "I'm fine with it. I think it's cute that you're a mess."

"I fully admit that a few days I got into my sleep clothing early, just because I could." She wiggles her eyebrows at me. "It was nice to do whatever I wanted and no one would judge."

"Do you think people are judging you on the ship, then?"

"No, but it's different when you don't have to answer to anyone. There's a heady sort of freedom to it."

I know what she means. Even at the best of times, someone on the ship would crack a joke if you were in your pajamas early. Or someone would need the showers if you were in there for too long. Perhaps someone wanted to make a particularly smelly batch of noodles. Even if you get along with everyone on a ship, you're still living with several people. It's bound to feel a little constricting at some point. "I understand. Does this mean you don't want to go back?"

"I'll go back. I just wanted to see what this was like first." She takes another bite of dried noodles and then tosses the bag aside. "I'm only talking about the fun parts, anyhow. Truth is, the first night I was here, I was terrified."

My back stiffens and I feel a murderous rage coming on. "You mentioned it. Tell me more."

"Oh no. I know you. You're looking for someone to attack because I was scared." She wags a finger at me. "I recognize that protective look on your face. But it was no one. I scared myself. And after the first night, I felt better. No, strong. I felt strong. Like I could handle things, even if they frightened me. I'm glad I was alone."

I grunt. I don't like it, but as long as she seems happy about the situation, I guess it's not my place to complain. "If you say so."

"I do," she tells me cheerfully, and then sits up on the bed. Ruthie gives me an assessing stare that seems to look right through me. "If you don't mind me saying, how have you been this week? You look like hell."

"I've been a keffing mess. The female I love has been on her own for a week and I've missed her desperately." I manage a casual, crooked grin, even though my heart is thumping wildly in my chest. "I think I need you more than you need me, because I've been miserable without you."

"Aw. You say the sweetest things." Ruthie bounces off the bed and comes to stand in front of me. "Does it help if I say I missed the heck out of you, too?"

"A little." I pinch my fingers to indicate just how much.

"We'll just have to make up for the time apart," she says in a silky tone, her lips curving up in a smile.

"Now you're speaking my language." I reach for her, running my knuckles against her soft cheek. "You can ask the others. I've been an absolute monster to live with this week. I've been grumpy. I've snarled at everyone, even your sisters. I can't keffing sleep. I can't concentrate on work. My thoughts have been on you the entire time."

"Are you trying to make this sound worse so I'll kiss you more to make up for it?" Her hands stray to my belt and she uses it to tug me closer to her.

"Maybe. Is it working?"

"Maybe." That little smile dances on her mouth and she pops the auto-fastener on my belt, sending it slithering in retreat. "Oops, look at that. How clumsy of me."

I want to point out to her that there's no need to seduce me. All she has to do is blink and I'd be ready to go. Everything about her makes me crazy with need. But she looks like she's having fun, and I love her smiles more than anything, so I pretend ignorance. "Oh no, my belt. Fix it for me, please."

She snort-giggles. "You're a terrible actor. You know you'd sell it more if you didn't sound so wooden, right?"

"I don't want to sell it. I want you to keep going."

"Like this?" Ruthie tugs on the waist of my trou, and they slide down to my knees, leaving me exposed. My cock springs forth like a heat-seeking missile, but to her credit, she doesn't laugh at how eager I am. She simply gives me another sweet smile and leans forward, tilting her face up for a kiss.

I cup her face, brushing my lips over hers. She always tastes perfect, like the finest of Homeworld wines, and I'm struck again at how lucky I am that she's mine. I try to show her all that feeling, kissing and nibbling at her lips, lavishing attention on them even as she moves forward, my cock pressing against her stomach.

"I love you," she whispers when we break apart. "You're the best man I've ever met."

"A'ani are cloned because we are known to be excellent at many things."

"You know that's not what I meant. It's not the a'ani parts of you. It's the Kazex parts of you." She trails her fingers down my front and then reaches down to boldly grab my cock. "Are you going to stroke this for me?"

My breath hitches. "You like that?"

Her eyes gleam. "I love it. I like watching you stroke yourself. It shows me what you like." She curls her fingers around my shaft and gives it a slight squeeze. "I like watching your face when you come. And the way that your lower lip shivers when you do."

Kef, her words are maddening. My hips twitch, pushing subtly against her hand. A moment more and I'm going to be dripping pre-cum all over her. "I wanted to come inside you."

"You will. We're going to have sex, I promise." She gives me another squeeze, this one a bit firmer. "But we have the rest of the day and all night to have fun before we go back to the ship."

"Are you...going back...to the ship, then?" It's hard to form a coherent sentence when she's giving me little squeezes like that.

"I'm going with you. Wherever that might be." She releases me and I half-gasp with disappointment, only to quake when she traces her finger along the head of my cock. A bead of wetness appears and she captures it with her finger. "The only person I can't bear to be apart from is you. I can comm my sisters. I can comm the crew. But I need you and your kisses. I need your hugs and your touches and your smiles. I need all of you. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

"Good," I growl out, my voice ragged. She wants to be with me always? That's what I want, too. I reach down and take her hand and lift it to my mouth. I lick her hand from fingertip to the base of her palm, and her eyes widen with surprise. I lick it again, then put it back over my cock. I cover her hand with mine, and stroke. It's not the slickest stroke, but I love the way Ruthie's lips part when we move, and it's enough to make my sac tighten in anticipation.

"You're so hard," she whispers as I stroke our joined hands again.

"Only for you. My cock belongs to you."

She lets out a little giggle at my ridiculous words, but I don't mind it. I know I'm saying ludicrous things, but I don't care. I belong to her. I've been hers ever since we first locked eyes and I realized she needed a protector and I wanted more than anything to be that for her. Now she's stronger than ever and more independent, but I still want to be hers.

Our gazes meet, and then her giggles die as I stroke our joined hands again. Her breath hitches as I move our joined hands faster. "You want to watch me come?" I ask. "You can get a real good look from right here."

"I can," she agrees, reaching up with her other hand to brush her fingers over my jaw. "You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen."

Her praise makes a shiver roll through my body, and I spurt a release. Just a small, rough one. There wasn't enough of a build-up for me to have more than a quick, unsatisfying orgasm, but I know there will be more later. For now, I let her murmur soft words over me as I come, soaking our joined hands in my release.

Ruthie makes a sound of pleasure when I heave a final sigh, leaning forward and putting my head on her shoulder. "Just saw the lip quiver."

I'm pretty sure all of me quivered. She has that effect on me. That, and making me blow my load faster than anticipated. "That was quick. Sorry."

"I don't mind. It's all pleasure. It doesn't matter how fast or slow, as long as we're enjoying ourselves." Ruthie pulls her sticky hand from my grasp. "You catch your breath, I'll get some towels."

I nod, moving to the edge of the bed and slumping there. I look ridiculous—trou around my knees, still wearing my tunic and boots, spent cock dribbling. And my lower lip quivering, can't forget that part. I touch my mouth with my clean hand just to be sure, and if it was trembling earlier, it's stopped. Thank kef for that.

Ruthie returns a moment after I finish stripping my clothing off, boots and all. She's wiped her hands clean and has brought a warm towel for me, clasping it around my cock in a gentle way that makes me shudder with arousal all over again. "I can do that," I tell her.

"You can, but I like touching you." She leans over me and kisses me even as she cleans off my half-mast cock. "I got some plas-film from the bathroom, too."

Plas-film. Birth control. It's a gossamer-thin bit of plas that molds to my length and ensures that none of my semen enters her body. I've never given it much thought, but I've also never had sex before. "I don't know if I can give you a baby, Ruthie. We're two different species. I'm not sure a'ani even have the ability to impregnate a woman even with assistance."

She shrugs. "I'm not ready for kids right now, so we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Besides, my sister Ruth and Straik are two different species, and he knocked her up fast enough."

My jaw drops. She's right. Ruth is a clone, too, and was most likely tampered with to make her body fertile and compatible for multiple species. We don't know what changes Ruthie has had, but it stands to reason that they're the same as Ruth's. "Plas-film is good," I agree. "Thank you."

Ruthie pulls out the tiny packet and offers it to me. "Should we put it on now?"

"Probably not until I'm hard again. It won't fit right."

She tosses it down on the bed and grins at me. "So what you're telling me is that we have to get you hard again."

"It won't be difficult," I tell her even as she takes a step back and starts to remove her clothing. "Everything you do makes me hard. You could look at me and I'd get hard."

"That's going to make us continuing to work together difficult, don't you think?" She lifts one foot and pulls off a boot. Then she tosses the other aside and reaches for the fastener on her clothing. She's not being deliberately sexy, but I can't take my eyes off of her. Even her smallest movements are fascinating.

She undresses, shucking off her clothing, and then stands in front of me, bare and gorgeous. The nipple piercing winks at me from her small breast, naughty and eye-catching. I itch to touch her, flexing my hands. "How is your piercing?"

"All healed up," Ruthie tells me. "Something like this would take months back home, but the cream you have is incredible. Hooray for alien medical technology, right?"

"Right," I say, and put my hands on her hips, tugging her towards me. She's mouthwateringly beautiful—slender and long-legged, her skin a pale gold and flawless. Ruthie has no tattoos, so she looks doubly naked to me, and my gaze keeps drawing back to that lone breast piercing. "Can I touch it?"

"I would love nothing more." Her voice grows soft and she loops her arms around my neck, stepping between my thighs to move closer.

I slide my hands up and down her sides, feeling the warmth of her and the softness of her skin. Just being able to hold her like this is an absolute dream, and I want to caress her forever. Just hold her and admire her and pet her to let her know that she's loved and she's beautiful. I press a kiss to her shoulder, loving the little sound she makes when I do. Then I kiss along her collar, and Ruthie arches her neck so I can nibble on her unimpeded. 

I'm larger than her, even seated as I am on the edge of the bed, but I don't mind contorting myself a little to pleasure her. I dip my shoulders and pull her closer as I kiss lower, heading for that inviting piercing. She leans back, and when my lips skim over the top of her breast, she sighs, her eyes closing.

I watch her carefully, checking her reactions, and skim my thumb over the piercing.

Immediately, her nipple hardens and she whimpers.

"Bad?" I ask.

"Very sensitive," she tells me, and wriggles. "So very sensitive."

"Can I touch it again? Or do you want me to go to your other breast?" I deliberately tease the nipple there with my thumb.

"All touches are good," she breathes, and then puts her hands on my head and drags me down toward her piercing.

There's my answer. Like a starving creature forced to take a single bite from a feast, I gently lift her breast with my fingers and feed the tip carefully into my waiting mouth.

She whimpers, and I suck on the piercing, careful not to be too rough. I try all kinds of touches, from rolling the piercing to gently petting it with the tip of my tongue, to flicking it. Ruthie loves all of it, her little cries and the way her fingers move on the back of my head encouraging me to keep going. Her other juicy breast is being woefully ignored, so I make sure to rub it back and forth with my thumb even as I nuzzle at her piercing.

Ruthie moans, arching against me, the sounds she's making growing increasingly more desperate. My hunger has returned full force. I've been concentrating on Ruthie and being careful with her, and didn't notice that my cock has hardened again. Maybe I'm just used to being erect and needy around her. Doesn't matter. I want to make her feel good, and my body can wait its turn.

Her whimpers are taking on a sense of urgency, and I keep kissing and teasing that piercing, loving that she's arching against me, pressing her breast against my lips. I send my other hand south, brushing over the curls that cover her cunt, and dip a finger between her folds.

She's keffing soaked.

I groan, an inferno of hunger raging through me. My gorgeous, perfect Ruthie is so wet that my fingers slip through her folds as if she's made entirely of silk. I find her clit with my fingertip and tease it with little circles, even as I tongue her nipple piercing.

"Oh," Ruthie whimpers even louder, rocking against my hand. "Oh, right there, Kaz. So good."

I want to give her words of encouragement, to tell her how keffing lovely she is, how good she feels, how wet and delicious the sounds are that her cunt is making as I touch her, but I don't want to lift my head. Not before she comes for me. I move my fingers faster, listening to the sounds she makes, the way they take on a sense of urgency, and when she cries out and trembles against me, I slip my fingers away from her clit and grip her tight around the waist, holding her close as she quakes, lost in her climax.

"I love you so keffing much," I manage, my throat tight, the words thick with the emotion I feel. I've never seen anything as wondrous as Ruthie when she comes, the look on her face contorted with delight. "We don't have to do more. We can just do this all night long and I'll be a happy keffing bastard."

Ruthie lets out a lingering sigh, sliding her weight down to my knee and perching there, her head resting on my shoulder. The wet heat of her cunt presses on my thigh, and my sac tightens, my cock aching with the need to be inside her. But I want what she wants. Nothing more, nothing less. It's no good unless she wants it, too.

My gorgeous girl turns her head and nips my ear. "Think you're hard enough for plas-film now?"

I bark out a rough laugh. "I don't think I've been harder in my life."

It's true. I can still smell the scent of her on my fingers, feel her wetness on my leg, the heat of her flushed skin against mine. I'm so hard it feels as if one touch is going to send me over the edge. I know I have to last longer than that to make things good for her, though. I have to make it perfect for her, so she'll want me to touch her over and over again.

Ruthie leans back, picking up the small packet of plas-film she'd tossed on the bed and then hands it to me. I take it from her and then we kiss again, lips teasing and playing with languid caresses. The edge has been taken off for her, but mine has returned. I want her to feel the same urgency I am when I'm inside her. I need her to be desperate for another orgasm, too.

It's a little awkward to put the plas-film on my cock with Ruthie perched on my leg and watching me. I fumble it a bit and then pinch the tip to make the well for my seed, as I've seen in porn vids. Then it's on and when I stroke my hand down my shaft, it feels like a slippery second skin over mine, but not unpleasant. Ruthie touches it too, humming approval and sending a shiver up my spine.

"Can I lick your cunt?" I ask. "Before I'm inside you?"

I can tell she likes the question, because she gives a little wriggle on my thigh. "You want to?"

"More than anything. You even have to ask?"

She kisses me again and then glances at the bed behind us. "Want me to lie down?"

"Hands and knees. I love the sight of you like that."

Her cheeks color but she nods, and then stands. She kisses me one more time—as if reluctant to be parted with me for even a moment—and then gets in place on the mattress, her bottom in the air.

The sight is breathtaking. Her skin is flushed with color, her cunt a darker, duskier shade than the rest of her. She's slick with arousal, her skin gleaming, and it makes my mouth water. I waste no time, climbing onto the bed behind her and then palming her buttocks and pulling them apart so I can get better access to everything.

I sink my tongue into her cunt, even as my nose presses against the pucker of her bottom.

Ruthie whimpers, her hands clawing at the mattress as she rocks against me. She tastes so good, salty and musky and perfect, and I make sure that my nose rubs against her in that perfect spot even as I tongue her cunt. When she's moaning and rocking against me, I lift my head⁠—

—and she immediately makes a sound of protest.

"You want more?" I ask, easing two fingers into her and watching with delight as her body swallows them, making a wet sound.

Ruthie rocks against my fingers, panting. "Please. Please, please, Kaz. I want you inside me. I ache."

Kef, I do too. I want to shout with just how much I ache for her, but I have to make sure she's ready for me. I continue to finger her cunt slowly, adding a third finger while she writhes on the mattress, her bottom quivering with every stroke of my hand.

"Tell me you want my cock," I demand.

She whimpers. "I do."

"Tell me that you're mine. That no matter what happens, we're together."

"Always. I missed you so much this week. So very much. Bed wasn't the same without you." She gives a wild little laugh. "Breathing isn't the same without you to share the air. Does that sound corny?"

"Does ‘corny’ mean amazing?" I run my palm over her flank, slipping my fingers out of her body.

"‘Corny’ means...you know what? Sure, it means amazing. Incredible."

"You are corny, my love."

"Thanks, I think." She giggles and gives her bottom a little shake. "Are we doing this? Because now you've got me all worked up."

"Have I?" I love hearing that. "You want my cock to make you feel corny, Ruthie?"

She snort-giggles, and while it's adorable, it's not exactly the response I was looking for. Something tells me that “corny” isn't as positive as she made it sound. I need to get her attention again. I give her cunt a light tap with the flat of my hand, and she sucks in a breath.

There we go. "Can I touch you, Ruthie?"

"You know you can." She lowers her head to the mattress, her bottom in the air.

"I'm going to ask, because this is new for both of us," I tell her, even as I get on my knees and move behind her, setting my hips against hers. "If you need me to stop, or if you need something else, do you remember the word?"

"Corny?" she jokes.

I smack her bottom again, just another light tap. 

She moans, her eyes fluttering closed. "It's noodle. Noodle."

"Do you want to use that word right now?" I caress her backside, fascinated by the roundness of it, the plump jiggle of each cheek when she moves.

"No. Want you inside me." Ruthie's breathless with need. "Please, Kaz."

Hearing my name on her lips does something to me. I grip her flank and with my hand, guide my cock forward. I don't know if Ruthie's a virgin—don't care, either—but I still want to be cautious. I don't want to hurt her, and she's such a small, delicate thing, even for a human. I'm so focused on the sounds she's making and feeding my cock carefully into her that it takes a moment for the sensations to hit me.

When they do, I groan aloud. Ruthie's cunt grips me in tight, wet heat, and I can feel every twitch in her body. It's the most incredible sensation, and I draw in deep, ragged breaths, as I can feel my sac tightening, readying my body to climax. I focus on Ruthie again, on the sounds she's making. "Good?"

She whimpers, her eyes tightly shut. "So good. You feel perfect."

I remain where I am, hesitant to push forward more. She's tight, and I don't want to shove deeper in a way that will cause her pain. But I've barely gotten the tip inside her. "Should I move? Or should I stop?"

Her breath hisses between her teeth and she shifts her weight, pushing her thighs further apart. "Keep going."

Gritting my teeth with concentration, I push deeper into her, using the smallest movements possible. I'm attuned to every gasp, every draw of breath, every quiver. Ruthie's a little tense, but her body continues to give as I nudge my way deeper. The sensations build and I instinctively rock my hips, driving deeper and then pulling back, and Ruthie makes a pleased sound. I pump into her again with more confidence, moving deeper with every thrust until I'm fully inside her, bottoming out. It feels so keffing good.

It feels even better when, on my next stroke, Ruthie arches her hips, rising to meet my thrust. I bite back my groan, moving faster and deeper, driving harder into her with every motion. Soon, the entire bed is shaking and Ruthie's buttocks bounce against me with every thrust. Our bodies slap together, the sound obscene and wet and so keffing incredible.

Ruthie makes a needy sound, and I immediately slow down.

"No!" she cries, turning her head to look back at me. "Need more, Kaz. I'm so close. Go faster. Harder."

"What do you need? Tell me." I pump into her again, watching her tense face for cues. "How do I get you there?"

"Touch me," she begs.

As if I need to be asked twice. Something tells me that the caresses I've been giving her back and flanks won't do it for her. Leaning forward, I press my weight over her smaller body and reach for that delightful little piercing in her breast. I put my fingers against it, adding friction even as I surge into her again.

The sound Ruthie makes is unholy. She whines with need, her hips jerking, and her cunt clasps tight around me. Oh, kef. Oh kef oh kef. It feels incredible.

Beyond corny.

She squeezes me tight with her cunt, and the needy sound changes to a muffled shriek as she quivers all over, coming. Her cunt milks my cock, clamping tight around it and driving me over the edge. With a cry of my own, I hunch over her, spilling my seed and watching sparks dance behind my eyes. There's no breath left in my lungs. There's no seed left in my balls.

There's just Ruthie and her sweaty, delightful skin pressed to mine.

I give one last groan of delight and roll off of my pretty female, flopping back on the bed. She collapses where she is, her bottom still in the air, and I tug her onto her side and wrap myself around her, instead.

For a moment, it's just us, breathing heavy. Her scent is musky and sweaty, but I love it. I press my mouth to her shoulder, kissing her skin over and over. "That was very corny."

She giggles. "Please be quiet."

"So corny I might not be able to move ever again," I tease, knowing full well that I'm using the word all wrong. Her laughter is so delightful I can't help myself, though. When her chuckles die down, I lean in and run my teeth over her shoulder, wanting to bite like an animal and knowing I never will. Ruthie's too precious to harm. "Did you mean what you said earlier? When you introduced me as your mate?"

She leans back against me, turning her head so I can see her expression. "You are. I know you said you loved me from day one. I'm sorry it took me so long to get on the same page."

"No need to apologize. You are worth waiting for." I rain kisses on her shoulder, unable to stop touching her. "And it's not as if it was miserable being around you. I love being with you, even if we weren't touching...though touching is much better."

She chuckles. "I'm a big fan of touching, I admit."

It makes my heart happy to hear that. That I've satisfied the one person in the universe whose opinion means everything to me. I know I should get up and clean up, but right now I just want to keep holding her tight. Unless she's hungry, in which case I'll get up and get her something to eat. Or if she's cold, or uncomfortable. "What now?"

"Whatever we want." She places her hand over mine. "As long as we're together."

"No, I meant like...tonight? Do you need me to go across the street and watch over you again?"

Ruthie laughs. "Oh! No, I want you here with me, in my bed. It's where you belong."

Now, I like the sound of that. "Sounds corny to me."

She groans. "I regret ever using that word."

I just cover her with kisses until she laughs again.

EPILOGUE

TWO WEEKS LATER

KAZEX

"Did you see that?" Ruthie asks, holding tighter to my arm.

"See what?" I pause in the street in front of the strip of buildings that line the main area of Port. Erzah's finally gotten the key codes to his building and we're all going to take a look at it today. My thoughts haven't been on the cantina or the key codes or anything like that. I've been busy thinking about the woman at my side, wondering how long we'll have to be at the cantina today before we can slip away and I can kiss her newest piercing. She has a matched set on her breasts now and it's making me absolutely crazy just thinking about them.

"That woman was checking you out." Ruthie's tone is a little grumpy. "I mean, I know you're the hottest guy in town, but you're taken."

Her words make me want to preen like an avian male. Ever since we've cemented our relationship, Ruthie has grown possessive of me. And kef me, but I love it. I love that she finds me so worthwhile, so prized that she feels the other women in town will want me. "I did not see anyone looking in this direction."

"Okay," she grumbles, and her hand slides to my waist, then to my backside. "But if I have to fight for you, I'm gonna fight dirty to make sure I win."

I laugh, because no one is going to fight over an a'ani male, but my heart warms that she thinks I'm that priceless. It is an incredible feeling, one I didn't realize I needed. I love Ruthie's covetousness regarding me.

The last two weeks have been incredible. Living on the ship with Ruthie at my side has always been wonderful, but now that we're together in all ways, I am overwhelmed with happiness. I'm not sure how much one heart can take, but mine is constantly brimming with joy. I love waking up with Ruthie curled against me. I love sharing a shower with her. I love our nights together, of course, but everything is just slightly better now that we're physical. Like when we play sticks with the others, Ruthie slips her shoe off and plays with my leg under the table, just because. Or how she brings me my lunch so we can eat together. How when we sit on the couch in the rec room, she sits in my lap instead of at my side and kisses me in front of the others. It's her eating noodles in the mess hall and giving me a sly look as I get a very large erection that we have to return to our quarters to take care of.

(We change our safe word to “corny” after that.)

It's that extra level of our relationship that's everything I ever wanted. I'm glad she's finally ready to claim me as her own.

We end up staying in Ruthie's room for the rest of her “week” away from the ship. It's two days of endless lovemaking and cuddling, and me giving her as many orgasms as possible. Ruthie also likes to watch me touch myself, and I don't mind performing for such an attentive audience, especially when she offers to sit on my face as I jerk off. She's amazing. I knew being with her would be incredible, but every day surpasses my expectations. We even use the coin a few times, but mostly to choose between two equally amazing positions.

The rest of the crew isn't surprised at all to find that we're together. Dopekh hugs us, but he seems a little sad, even as he reassures us both that he's happy. Maybe he's still hung up on Lord Straik. Or someone else in the crew. It's hard to tell with Dopekh. He's always falling in love only for it to never pan out for him. Ruth and Lord Straik are delighted for us, offering to reshuffle cabins on the ship to ensure we can have the biggest quarters since we're now together, but Ruthie declines. She likes our current quarters...and then lets her sister know that we'll be staying on Risda III when the ship leaves.

I think Ruthie expects Ruth to be upset, but Ruth just hugs her and tells her that she's proud.

It's been the best two weeks of my life, and I'm looking forward to the future and what it'll bring. But for now, we have to help Erzah with his cantina business.

We pause in front of the building, eyeing the dirty windows and the location. It's next to an airsled repair shop, which doesn't seem as if it'll drive much traffic this way, and the exterior of the place looks...unexciting. I keep my reservations to myself, though. It's not my dream—it's Erzah's. My dream has piercings and short hair and touches my arm with delicate fingers.

"You think he'll be able to make this into a success?" Ruthie asks.

I consider this. If it was Jerzec, I'd say no. He's too impatient. Dopekh, also no. He's too tender-hearted. Aithar's too innocent. Sakkar would never want a cantina because it would involve too many people. Zaemen is a maybe, but he'd probably get distracted and forget to charge his customers.

Erzah's harder to pin down. He's never been much of a leader, but he's tenacious. When he gets an idea in his head, he won't let it go, even if it's a bad idea. He digs in his feet, sets his jaw, and attacks it. I grunt. "You know, out of all of us, I think Erzah could do it. He's got one major downside, though."

"Oh?" Ruthie glances up at me. "What's that?"

"He's got the rest of us helping him."

She laughs, her eyes sparkling. "Ruth-Ann told Erzah she'd do the books. If there's anyone that can keep him financially on track, it'll be her."

This is true. Ruth-Ann can be terrifyingly tenacious as well.

The door opens and Erzah appears, waving us forward. "Come in. Come in. Get a good look at the place and let me know what you think."

"We've already seen the place," I point out.

"Yes, but now it's mine. And a few walls have been knocked down." He pauses. "And the pipes were gutted."

"Pipes? Walls?" Ruthie inquires, stepping inside as I put a hand on the small of her back and follow her in. "Is that why getting the key code took so long?"

"There was a vermin infestation," Erzah says glumly as we enter. "Apparently buildings on this planet are sometimes infested by large-eyed rodents that like to live in the pipes. I'm told they're cute, but I'm also told they'll chew a hole through plas within an hour."

"Jeez," Ruthie says, making a face. "That sounds terrifying."

"Doesn't it? Those repairs also chewed through a lot of my savings." Erzah looks woeful. "I'm going to have to figure out a way to buy supplies on the cheap."

We head inside, and there are two boxes in the center of the otherwise dusty, empty room. Jerzec and Aithar are seated on them, and Jerzec gets up the moment he sees Ruthie, indicating she should sit down.

She grabs my hand and makes me sit, then promptly places herself in my lap. I don't even mind the smug grins the others shoot me. I feel pretty smug myself. I wrap my arms around my mate and rest my chin on her shoulder. "So what you're saying is that you're giving up already, Erzah?"

"No." He paces in between the boxes, arms crossed. "I wanted you all to come here to get ideas. We're the opening crew—well, plus Zaemen and Ruth-Ann. Zaemen probably forgot to show up—you know how he is. As for Ruth-Ann, she went to get snacks over an hour ago."

Aithar grins. "She's hitting on the baker female again, I wager. That human makes her crazy."

"Good, maybe she'll get a discount," Erzah grumbles. "I need your suggestions on how we make this place work with a limited budget."

Jerzec moves to Erzah's side and loops an arm around his neck. "Hear me out. We steal a ship."

"From Port? Are you crazy?" I shake my head. "It doesn't matter that the jail here is nice. It's still a jail. You don't steal from the place you're living."

"Not from Port," Jerzec retorts. "Do I look like an idiot?"

"Yes," Aithar chimes in.

Jerzec immediately moves to his side and grabs him in a headlock. While Aithar chuckles and flails, Jerzec continues. "I'm just saying, maybe we head to a station, stake out one of the cantinas there, see who comes in and delivers supplies. Then we follow that ship and take it over. Little bit of piracy. Not a lot, just a little."

"You know the boss doesn't want to do anything like that," Aithar chokes out, trying to break free.

He's right. Ever since that mess with Lord Straik's mother, he's putting aside piracy. "He's right. Lord Straik will hate the idea."

"We don't have to tell him," Jerzec says with a grin.

Everyone makes a sound of protest at that. "It's his ship," Ruthie says. "That's a terrible, idiotic idea."

"But it is an idea. You guys got any better ones? Let's hear it." Jerzec releases Aithar with a shrug and saunters across the empty room.

"As a matter of a fact, I do," Ruthie says. "You get friendly with one of those cantinas. You find out who they buy from and you talk with the vendor. Ask the vendor if they have any discontinued stuff or castoffs. Stuff that a regular cantina isn't interested in. Or you talk with a junk trader and see if they have supplies and we can make our own booths and tables. As for drinks, as long as you have a cozy environment that provides a little bit of refreshment that humans like, the rest will come in time. They're just going to be happy to have somewhere to go that they feel at home and that isn't serving greasy alien leaves. No offense."

"None taken," Erzah says. "They're meant to be greasy."

"They're delicious, too." Aithar sighs. "So no fried leaves?"

"This is for humans, right? You want to think human when it comes to food and drink. I'd be surprised if no one here on Risda was making their own sort of hooch." Ruthie gestures at the exterior. "You get to know the guy at the general store and have him work out a deal with you. Buy bulk of whatever's cheap and we make human-like snacks out of it. Look at the baking stand. Her stuff is terrible, but she's making a killing because she takes whatever this planet has and she makes human foods out of it. If all we have is roots and whatever passes for beef around here, we make a pot roast for the special that week. I guarantee you everyone will show up."

Erzah stares. "You think so?"

"I do," my mate says firmly. “And besides, I know how to mix drinks. Maybe not with these ingredients, but I’m sure I can figure it out.”

"I agree," I say, but not just because it's Ruthie's suggestion. "It makes sense. Get to know the locals and work with them. And I knew an a'ani that made his own beer once. Maybe we can figure out how to make our own. Humans don't like ooli brew anyhow."

"We really don't," Ruthie agrees, wrinkling her delicate, adorable nose.

"You're so smart, my gorgeous mate," I tell Ruthie.

She blushes at my praise. Over the back of her head, Jerzec makes a face, but I ignore him. He'll sing a different song when he finds a female he can't resist.

Erzah rubs his hands together. "The only thing left is the sign. Dopekh should be here with it any moment."

"The sign?" I ask. "You decided on a name, then?"

Erzah clears his throat. "Sort of. I had a name but Ruth-Ann told me it was terrible and so I went with my second choice."

"Wait, what was the first name?" Ruth asks.

Erzah, Aithar and Jerzec exchange looks. "We came up with it together," Erzah says after a moment. "I wanted to call it 'A Very Safe Cantina For Human Females Only.'"

"Get it all on the sign," Jerzec agrees. "Make sure they know this is a place for them."

Aithar nods.

I have to admit, it's a good name. If I were a human female, I would certainly want to know all of that before stepping into a cantina. It seems legitimate to me that I would wish to know if a cantina accepted all or if it was for females only.

Ruthie's jaw drops. Her hand goes to her mouth and she giggles. Then she snorts. Then she keeps laughing, wiping tears from her eyes. "Oh my god," she wheezes. "Oh my god."

Erzah frowns. "Lady Ruth had the same reaction. What makes it so bad?"

"You might as well roll up with a white van and offer candy," Ruthie says between giggles.

"You think we should offer candy?" Aithar asks.

Ruthie only laughs harder. She holds her sides, tears streaming from her eyes. I chuckle, just because the sight of her in such delight makes me feel warm inside. "I think Ruthie likes it, but for all the wrong reasons."

"Sounds...like...a trap," Ruthie manages between wheezing laughs.

Aaaah. "I see. Declaring that someplace is safe probably makes the humans think it is not safe." It sounds strange and illogical, but humans are like that sometimes. I hold Ruthie tightly, so she doesn't fall off my thigh in her laughing fit. "What was the second name, Erzah?"

"Sunrise," he mumbles.

Ruthie wipes her face one more time. "Sorry, what?"

"Sunrise Cantina," Erzah says a little louder. "It's short. It's cheerful. And I heard a human female say to another here that this is like the dawn of a new day for them. So...Sunrise Cantina."

Everyone turns to look at Ruthie to see her reaction.

She smiles, her eyes still wet with tears of amusement. "Actually, that's lovely."

"Thank kef," Erzah mutters.

"Sunrise Cantina," I repeat. It's a good sign, I think. It’s a new start for all of us.

“To Sunrise,” Aithar says, jumping to his feet and putting his hand out.

“Sunrise,” I agree, leaning forward and putting my hand over his. Ruthie covers mine a moment later.

Jerzec puts his into the mix. “If we have to go with a less obvious name, fine. As long as we get the females in here, that’s all that matters.”

“Sunrise Cantina,” Erzah agrees, putting his hand at the top of the stack. His eyes shine with anticipation.

We can call it anything, as long as I get to call Ruthie mine.

<<The End>>

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Hello there!

Thanks for joining me in yet ANOTHER Rubyverse series. I love being able to explore the stories of all these side characters and it’s all because you guys have faith in my storytelling. I appreciate you all so much!

This series focuses on ‘what comes next’ for the crew of the Scarlet Gaze, Lord Straik’s ship. In the Corsair Bros series, due to his mother being arrested for nefarious deeds, Straik is now under scrutiny and can no longer run a pirate ship. He’s also got a wife and a baby on the way, so all the characters are very much in the ‘what’s next’ stage of their lives.

As I was writing the last Risdaverse novel, it occurred to me that the one cantina I’d mentioned in Port wasn’t all that human-friendly. It’s run by a szzt, it’s got greasy tables and alien food, and the drinks are all alien beverages. Where’s a human gotta go to get a decent meal, right? It seemed the perfect opportunity for one of my enterprising a’ani crew to step in, and thus Sunrise Cantina was born. We’ll follow the trajectory of the cantina opening in this series, and I think it’ll be a lot of fun.

It seems natural to me that when I’m switching to the Scarlet Gaze crew, I do the story of Ruthie and Kazex first. They’ve been will-they-wont-they since Straik and Ruth’s story, and I was eager to tackle them. That being said, it wasn’t the easiest of stories to write. Ruthie struggles with PTSD and I wanted to be sympathetic to showing that without dragging the story down too much. I empathized with her anxiety and struggle with decision making. It’s a side of anxiety that isn’t talked about too much. Decision making is absolutely something that people with anxiety struggle with, because you’re terrified of making the wrong decision. It’s something I’ve definitely struggled with all my life, and while it’s just one aspect of Ruthie’s PTSD, I felt it was an important one and I wanted to put it on paper.

I know a lot of folks out there dislike a wishy-washy heroine, but I will always rep anxiety in as many forms as I possibly can. We need to normalize our brains being assholes so we don’t feel alone. <3

I also wanted to dive more into the relationships of Ruth, Ruthie and Ruth-Ann. If those names are a lot to see in a scene together, I UNDERSTAND. In hindsight, I would have given them more individualized names, but at the time I loved the idea of clones having variations of the same name. Ah, hindsight, you absolute bitch. If you got confused when all three of them are on screen together, I apologize. Their personalities could not be more different, so my hope is that even with all the “Ruths” being thrown around, you still knew who was who.

Kazex, my sweet baby angel of a hero, was far easier to write. I’m always fascinated by the opposite end of the decision making spectrum - those rare unicorns that know what they want and never waver. We always hear stories about guys that meet a woman and know instantly the moment that they look at her that she’s the one. I love how gloriously uncomplicated that is and I thought he made a fantastic foil to Ruthie and her struggles.

I also love writing the a’ani because they have terrible backgrounds due to their personal history (cloning and enslavement) and yet I love the innocent quality they have to them. They’re surprisingly sheltered in certain ways, a bit like my barbarians, and most of them are very new to sex, as they were kept on suppressants while enslaved.

But Ruby, you say, can you write an entire series about golden retriever heroes?

HOLD MY OOLI BREW.

I’m planning on doing more stories in this series. Dopekh and Salvotor are in the queue, along with Ruth-Ann and Simone, who runs the bakery stand that drives Ruth-Ann so batty. I was initially going to call Ruth-Ann and Simone’s story WHEN SHE’S RISING because bread…get it? But now it’ll probably switch to a Clone-pun title. Just FYI in case you’re looking for that story.

(Also, please don’t send me nasty emails because you don’t like M/M or F/F stories. I’m not changing my mind. You’re free to skip any books that don’t appeal to you. I personally like characters of all kinds and will continue to write them.)

I’m also going to dig into Erzah’s story, because he thinks he’s so crafty at deciding to run a cantina solely on the premise of meeting single ladies. Someone’s clearly going to see right through that.

I hope you enjoy! <3

— Ruby

WANT MORE?

Need more to read? Want to immerse yourself in the Rubyverse? Here’s a list of books I suggest that are in Kindle Unlimited!

Want the first appearance of Ruthie and Kazex?

Corsairs: Straik

The rest of the Corsairs Brothers series:

Corsairs: Adiron

Corsairs: Kaspar

Corsairs: Mathiras

Corsairs: Bethiah

Some Risdaverse set on Risda III!

When She’s Pregnant

When She’s Common

When She Purrs

Enjoy!