Khar could barely wait to show her.
He allowed his thoughts to drift back to the night, even as his body responded instantly. Lily had been extraordinary. That silk-soft skin. Those curves, slightly alien to a Divani eye and therefore even more intoxicating. He could have spent a lifetime in the shallow hollow where her neck met her shoulder, or tracing the elegant line of her abdomen. Her scent alone had already undone him, and it had only been a faint promise of the euphoria waiting between her thighs.
He had not been joking when he told her she was food.
From now on, only her tight, sweet heat would ever satisfy his hunger.
Unfortunately, he could not spend the entire cycle lost in fantasy. Reality was better, even if work awaited. Khar had already planned how the cycle would unfold. He would tease Lily, provoke her, and keep her on edge until the end of their shift. By then, she would be too irritated to care about anyone else’s opinion and too aroused to think of anything but him.
Seeing her initiate would be intoxicating.
Khar smiled.
The universe, in reply, decided to trip him.
By the time he reached Vitro, Lily was waiting outside the ship.
She looked dangerously angry.
Perhaps I pushed too far this morning.
Khar was already revising his strategy on the fly.
As he drew closer, Lily lifted the hand braced on her hip and jabbed a finger toward the massive cargo stack unloaded on the dock.
“Vegrun gave Silomarila another chance.”
Khar did not immediately see the disaster in that. Yes, Madame Turtle made his skin crawl, but at least he was not the one expected to entertain her.
“All right,” he said. “And what’s this? Gifts? Should we load them?”
Lily shook her head, defeated.
“Exterior hull paint for Vitro. Augum-3 moon shade. Silomarila’s favorite color.”
Ah.
Now he understood.
Painting an interstellar cruiser from the outside was brutally exhausting work, but in seven cycles it was manageable. Even with overtime, they would still have evenings to themselves. Lily, however, looked as if she were standing in the center of a natural disaster, still struggling to believe it had chosen her.
“Khar, you don’t get it. He wants it done in three chrono-cycles. They arrive in four. He wants that color to be the first thing she sees. Triple overtime pay, and a full seven cycles of paid leave after the flight.”
“All right,” Khar said calmly. “I don’t care about the extra credits. What do you want? We’ll do that.”
“I don’t think we have a choice,” Lily replied. “And I need the triple pay. I can barely save anything as it is.”
She rubbed her forehead as if fighting off a headache, then shot him a suspicious look.
“Wait. Since when do you not care about money? You haggled with Vegrun even when our lives were at risk.”
“That was different,” Khar said. “Everyone needs a hobby. Mine happens to be fleecing Vegrun. As for the leave, I would enjoy that. More uninterrupted time with you.”
Lily looked him over slowly.
Only then did Khar realize something was wrong. He had been too focused on her, on pursuit and anticipation, and now felt like an untested recruit for missing this sooner.
“Lily,” he asked carefully, “how much do you earn?”
