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Not that I’ve got much arm left to chew. And I’m sure Kaatir enjoys our talks. But it doesn’t mean there isn’t an ulterior motive there. It’s all part of the pitch, and how he controls who shows up to his base. You’d better be good and keffing ready to hear endless war stories if you head to Kaatir’s place.
But it’ll be worth it. The ship—the Pleasure Spot, as Bethiah calls it—will be ready for our family.
My family.
The thought fills me with a mixture of both terror and excitement. I’ve never dreamed of having a family. As an orphan on Raan, it was always understood that no one wanted you and your only value was in how hard you could work to prove yourself. The moment I was of age, I joined the military, hoping it would be the family I’d wanted it to be. But as a no-caste soldier, I ended up on the front lines and came back from the war—a war we’d lost—broken and bitter and more determined than ever to be alone.
It wasn’t until Bethiah’s teasing cat-and-mouse game that I finally thought someone might actually be interested in who I am as a person. No matter how many times I pushed her away or insulted her, she didn’t take it personally. If anything, it seemed like a challenge to her. It allowed me to let my guard down and think maybe, maybe…
And then Dora showed up, frightened and in need of a hero.
And well…now here we are. So I eye the invoice again and think perhaps it’s not too much to pay after all. I can take a few extra bounties here and there. I shut down my data-pad and decide to see if my mates are in our quarters. It’s getting late—Kaatir’s last story was an hours-long tribulation of how he’d managed to hold out on a moon base by himself for 123 days with nothing to eat but the vermin that crawled in the tunnels. After hearing that, I’m good on stories for a while. I just want to sleep. Maybe curl up around Dora and Bethiah and breathe in their fresh, clean scents.
I wouldn’t even mind if Bethiah thumped my ear or teased me. That’s how she shows she cares.
Thinking about Bethiah and Dora brings a visual of the shower scene into my mind. My cock hardens in anticipation, thinking about touching both of them again. Was any male so lucky as me? To walk into the showers and see both of my mates sprawled on the floor, kissing as one fingered the other? Kef me, what a sight. I could play it back in my bionic eye, re-watch it all over again, but my cock’s already stiffening as I head for the guest quarters on Kaatir’s base and the last thing I want is to run into one of his nosy, myriad wives. Maybe I’ll walk in on them touching each other again.
I bite back a groan. Some males might be threatened by the two women bonding or touching each other without them, but I’m not surprised by it. I’ve always been an afterthought to everyone. If Bethiah and Dora decide they like each other best, as long as they want me around in some sort of capacity, even just as protector, I’ll do it.
Even a half-ass triad is better than being completely alone. I’ll take what I can get.
I open the door to find Dora sitting on the huge bed, Bethiah seated on the floor in front of her. Dora’s hands are in Bethiah’s long, still-damp hair, and she’s braiding in ribbons and tiny beads in what must be the most over-decorated hairstyle Bethiah has ever worn. “Jamef!” Dora cries happily when I enter. “You’re just in time.”
“I hope we’re beading his hair next,” Bethiah says, arms crossed over her chest. She’s wearing a slip of a yellow night-tunic, the straps so thin they’re translucent across her shoulders. It dips down to her cleavage, offering her lovely blue skin up for admiration. Dora is dressed similarly, but her yellow hair is loose and tumbling around her shoulders, and the pale purple tunic she wears is tight across her abundant cleavage.
It’s a pleasing sight, and I record this one in my bionic eye as well. Just in case this doesn’t work out, I’ll have the memories of this moment to review over and over again on colder nights. “You two look cozy.”
“I told Bethiah that as part of my shower, I get to do her hair. Doesn’t she look pretty?” Dora leans over Bethiah and presses a quick kiss on her shoulder.
“Mind the horns, fluffit,” Bethiah grumbles, reaching up behind her to pat Dora’s cheek. “Your nose is just now looking better.”
“Let me take a look?” I move to Dora’s side and sit next to her on the bed, cupping her small face. Sure enough, the swelling has gone down considerably. The tip of her nose is slightly pink, but otherwise you wouldn’t know she’s been injured. “Much improved. Thank you for taking care of her, Bethiah.”
