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FRANKIE
There are plenty of people on Earth who are poly—and this shouldn’t be so awkward given that I’ve already fucked both these aliens—but I’ve also never negotiated a threesome.
I also have to admit this isn’t what I pictured.
What I’ve fantasized about when it comes to them always skips this part. I imagined Malix and Taraven already kissing, already touching, pulling me in between them to have their way with me. The phasebeforewasn’t important to me at all; we could get right to the fun stuff and do away with any discussion of feelings, of making sure we were all comfortable. I thought this would happen organically, that things would just fall into place.
But now that we’ve said it out loud, we just have to take a few extra steps…and that’s intimidating.
Taraven leads the way inside the shelter, which turns out to be little better than a tent with a sand-strewn wooden pallet beneath. There’s a sealed container full of blankets and cushions in the corner—which I’m grateful for, since I don’t think the Skoropi usually sleep with blankets—and another sealed container packed with rations. Firefern creeps over the canvas walls and ceiling, hanging from the rafters in spiraling vines.
Taraven is already squatting in front of the rations bin when Malix and I walk inside, and he tosses us each a bulb of what reminds me of a tropical smoothie. We have these on Jaya sometimes if we don’t feel like cooking—Bekah fondly calls them ‘space gogurt.’ I punch a hole in the bulb with my thumb and suck some of the smoothie out, finding that it doesn’t taste all that bad compared to what I’m used to.
It’s not on the same level as the homemade meals on Jaya, but it’ll do.
Weirdly enough, I miss home—andJayais home now.
“So I understand the two of you are fucking now,” Taraven says.
Okay—no ceremony here, I guess.
Malix chokes on his mouthful of rations, covering his lips so he doesn’t spit it out on the floor. I manage to swallow before snorting out a laugh, coughing a little when a seed gets stuck in my throat.
Taraven gives us a puzzled look, his smile awkward. “Uh…did I say something wrong?”
“That was just very…forward,” I say, searching for the word. “I figured we would sit down, have some food, chat…”
“What would be the point in that?” Malix chimes in. “I appreciate his frankness.”
“Of course you do,” I say. “Because you don’t know what it means to bepolite.”
“Excuse me, but my people are incredibly polite,” Malix says. “We also understand the importance of honesty and expedience; we do not take unnecessary detours.”
“Is it bad that I wish you did?” I ask.
Taraven’s expression softens. “Frankie, we don’t have to move forward with anything—if you aren’t ready.”
I look over at Malix, who’s giving me an inscrutable stare. The only way I can tell he’s turned on is from the way his fringe flares, turquoise at his neck and the tips of his ears.
“Are you okay with this?” I ask.
He frowns. “I do not know whatoh-kay—”
“It just means ‘fine,’” I say. “And I’m asking you—are you fine with this? Do you…are you sure you want this?”
Malix comes a few steps closer, putting his rations down on top of his pack. He reaches for me and twirls a curl around his fingers.
“My logic is twofold,” he says. “First—we are on a dangerous mission and could die any moment.”
“I appreciate the optimism,” I say.
“And second—I have resisted these urges for too long, and I am...”—he puts his other hand on my hip—“…an eager student. I will have you tonight, whether Taraven participates or not.”
I suck in a breath.Híjole—he’s insatiable, and confident at that. I guess I knew that about him, but I figured he would be a little bumbling in bed since he was a virgin until last night…
I was very, very wrong.
