Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Never mind.” He pulled away abruptly and she saw that the scowl had returned to his face. “Your harness should be tight enough now. We have to get going.”
He reseated himself in the pilot’s chair and buckled his own straps quickly, not looking at her. Lucy faced front, but continued to study him from the corner of her eye. Why in the world had he thought that she might want to bite him? Was that a thing the Stri’vor Monstrum did? Some kind of mating ritual, maybe?
She wasn’t adverse to a little pain with her lovemaking—or she didn’t think she would be—she’d never really had a chance to find out in her years with the ultra-vanilla Mike. But she’d never had a man ask if she wanted to bite him before.
Do I want to bite him? she asked herself, still studying the big Monstrum from the corner of her eye. Would I like to let him bite me?
Actually, either scenario could be sexy if it was done in the right way, at the right time, she decided. Not that she expected to go there with T’zaren—not when he so clearly resented having to come with her on this mission. Though his oath to her had been beautiful, she remembered. Oh Hell—it was hard to know what he thought when he kept going back and forth like this!
Also, what was the deal with him “submitting” himself to her and saying that during this mission she could do what she wanted with him? Was that another Stri’vor Monstrum thing? Or maybe more of a S’rentha thing.
S’rentha… Lucy thought of all the things that one, loaded word could mean—goddess to be worshipped…little one to be protected… Clearly she wasn’t just playing his mate—there was more to it than that, though she wasn’t sure exactly what. And she couldn’t forget Dra’vik’s warning when he had said that a Stri’vor male could be pushed too far, whatever that meant…
As all these thoughts flashed through her head, the little gold ship rose out of the Docking Bay and entered space. To their right she could see the curving reddish-orange ball of Mars and, outlined against it, the immense golden shape of the Mother Ship. To their left was the vast blackness of space and something else—a long, vertical gash that was crimson in color.
Lucy pointed at it.
“Is that—?”
“That is the fold,” T’zaren said shortly. “We’ll be flying into it. When we come out, we’ll be in orbit around B’ron Three.”
“Why is it not safe for a pregnant woman to, uh, fold space?” Lucy asked, remembering Iyanna’s words.
“Why does it matter to you?” T’zaren was still staring straight ahead as he spoke. “You’re not pregnant.”
“Hey! How would you know that?” Lucy demanded, looking at him indignantly.
“Because I don’t smell any other male on you. Not even a trace scent.” He spoke matter of factly, still staring straight ahead as he piloted the ship towards the gash. “In fact, if I had to guess, I would say you haven’t been with a male in two or three solar months. Maybe more.”
“That’s none of your business, you know,” Lucy said tightly. She had broken things off with her ex the month before, but it had been about three months since they’d had sex. But of course, the big Monstrum didn’t need to know that.
T’zaren shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling under the crimson shirt he wore.
“Forgive me, Dr. Lucille. You asked how I know you’re not pregnant—I answered you.”
“But—” Lucy began, but just then, they flew directly into the vertical crimson gash.
TWELVE
T’ZAREN
Why in the Seven Frozen Hells had he asked if she’d like to bite him? That was exactly what had driven his last human date away and Dr. Lucille had acted the same way—with a mixture of horror and disgust. She acted as though marking him with her teeth was wrong or somehow deviant when it was neither—at least in his culture.
It was quite common for a S’rentha to mark her male with her teeth—or it had been while his home world still lived and thrived. Now it seemed he would never find a mate who understood the ways of his people
Stop it! he told himself angrily. It’s not like you’d want her for your S’rentha, even if she did understand your ways. She’s too silly—too vacuous.
But actually, Dr. Lucille had acquitted herself very professionally in the meeting with Commander Rarev. And she wasn’t laughing or joking now—she was staring straight ahead as they flew through the fold in space that would take them to B’ron Three.
Also, she was so damn beautiful with her big eyes and her honey-colored hair in long, loose curls around her shoulders. She had a sweet, feminine scent that he hadn’t been able to help inhaling when he was fixing her harness. And when her lips had come into contact with his throat, his Sen Stripe had flared so strongly it had been almost unbearable.