Ar'Tok - Alana Khan Page 0,3
the rough cloth of his shirt. I can’t wait for him to touch me there. I’ve decided tonight’s the night I’m going to give myself to him. Whatever he asks, he’ll receive.
“Grabbing his broad shoulders, I pull him closer. My tongue, emboldened, presses inside his mouth to taste him. He’s sweet as warm honey. His hand, swift and sure, slides under my bodice and finds my . . .”
Can I say these things to Ar’Tok? We’ve never talked like this. Although we’ve shown each other glimpses of our deepest thoughts, we’ve never spoken of sex.
“If it was me,” his voice rumbles into my earpiece, his timbre so deep it sends shivers up my spine, “I would cup Avaleigh’s breast, holding the weight of it in my palm. Delighting in the feel of it, hoping to hear her moan in pleasure.”
My eyes flare at the intimacy of his suggestion. I turn up my headphones, not wanting to miss a word he says.
“I would look into her eyes and make certain her glance said ‘yes’ and then pluck her nipples until I pulled a gasp from her throat. A good gasp, a gasp of pleasure. Then I would slip her blouse off her shoulders and gaze upon her lovely breasts, taking my fill of her before I’d bend my head to suckle at her breasts—first one and then the other. Close your book, Star,” I never heard his tone so forceful before, “and tell me what you would do if you were Avaleigh.”
Clever Ar’Tok. We can talk so intimately and pretend it’s all fiction.
I have to clear my throat so my dry mouth can make noise. “If I were Avaleigh, I would revel in the feeling, knowing I was allowing the male I cared for to explore me in such intimate ways. As I was waiting for him to lift me up and carry me to the soft pile of nearby hay, I’d sneak my gaze down the front of his body to see if I was affecting him as deeply as he was affecting me.”
“And Ka'Ron’s pants would be close to bursting for his female,” Ar’Tok murmurs into my ear. “He’s been stroking himself to thoughts of her every night since he met her. He would never admit that each time he spilled his seed, he called her name into the silent dark of night.”
“And a female of worth would never touch herself alone in her bed. But Avaleigh held a dark secret,” I admit, “she’d explored her body under her covers, imagining her hands were Ka'Ron’s hands, that the fingers that plucked her nipples were his, that the hand that brought her release was his.”
“Star,” Ar’Tok says. Instead of shattering the moment, his use of my name draws me in, hinting that what’s to come next isn’t going to be playacting anymore. He’s going to tell me something real. “I dream of you every night. Every single night since I stumbled onto your signal. If we were ever to meet, I would worship your body. More than Ka'Ron with Avaleigh, I would adore you.
“I would taste every part of you. If I ever had the opportunity to be with you, even if it was just for one night, I would taste you. Every inch of you. I would memorize it. If I lived to be one hundred, I’d be able to recall the sweetness of—”
A loud buzzer goes off, along with every red warning light on board. The computerized male voice announces, “Warning! Warning! Oxygenation apparatus malfunction! Warning! Warning!”
“I need to check this out!” I say as my body transforms from relaxed and aroused to high alert. I bound out of my chair and run to the mech room to see if it’s another false alarm or if the oxygenator really isn’t working.
Usually, when the dial displays a malfunction, I check the release valve, which emits a stream of air. This tells me the machine is producing oxygen and also re-sets the dial.
When I release the valve, though, no air comes through. None. The dial still reads zero. I do what I can, banging on the dial, re-starting the mechanism, changing the hoses. It’s the converter itself that quit working. After doing everything I know how to do, I realize I’m screwed.
I grew up on this satellite. I know everything there is to know about it—my dad saw to that. With just me in this vessel, I have twelve hours of shallow breathing before I die. That’s it. End of