I stroke his mane. "Then let's not risk ourselves. If we don't want them to find out we're here, we can go elsewhere. Maybe Bethiah knows a place off the beaten path we can meet at, neutrally."
Nassakth stiffens. He looks up at me, his face practically buried between my breasts, which is both erotic and startling, and there is hope on his face. "A space station," he murmurs. "A place that many lawless sorts wander through. It will seem natural for us to be there if I am on the run."
Okay, I wasn't thinking space station. I was thinking maybe heading into port, but a space station works. "As long as it's safe for us—"
"No one will mess with a praxiian," he reassures me. "And they will think you are my pet, and that will keep you safe." He releases me and jumps to his feet. "We can hire the bounty hunter to accompany us as a guide. She will know all the good places to hide out. She will be able to provide us with false identities, too." His face lights up. "Kim, you are a genius!"
He leans down and gives me a smacking kiss and then immediately draws back. "I—I am sorry. I did not mean to press you."
"It's okay." I resist the urge to touch my lips, or to lick them and taste the memory of his mouth. "Go and call Bethiah."
The determined smile on his face tells me we've made the right decision.
57
KIM
"Well well well, if it isn't my favorite couple!" Bethiah says cheerfully as we meet her in port. She has a pack tossed over one shoulder and is wearing her favorite dark jumper, weapons strapped to her waist and her braids piled high into a knot between her horns.
"More like your favorite wallet," I mutter as I stand close to Nassakth.
Bethiah just chuckles at my joke. "Is there a difference?"
In her eyes, there probably isn't. I glance up at Nassakth, but his expression is distant, his gaze locked on one of the ships landing on a designated strip. He's been like this for days, ever since Bethiah made the contact call and set up the terms for the meeting. He's distracted, lost in his own thoughts.
It makes it weirdly easy for us to have our “space,” but I'm growing rather tired of it. The next time Nassakth asks to kiss me, or hold me, or sleep with me, I've told myself I'm going to say yes. All he has to do is ask…but he hasn't. He's been so distracted with the thought of meeting his parents and all of the hoops we're jumping through to hide who and what we are that there's been no time to examine our personal relationship more closely.
It kinda sucks.
But, I tell myself, this is temporary, and Nassakth wants answers. I understand that, and so here I am, with him and a bounty hunter, waiting to board a spaceship to go meet my praxiian in-laws. Sometimes I think it'd be easier to just retreat back to my noli farm and hide from the world, but I can't. I don't want Nassakth heading out to confront them alone. Someone needs to be on his side, and Bethiah's only trustworthy as long as the credits keep flowing.
A ship circles around port overhead and then flips on its thrusters, blue-green flames shooting forth from underneath the wings as it lowers. "There's our ride," Bethiah calls cheerfully.
I wrinkle my nose at the sight of it. "That? It looks like a piece of crap." It's large, sure, but the squatty wings look like they've got rust on the edges and I'm pretty sure a metal panel on the nose is coming up.
"It's a Class IV Freighter. Very reliable," Bethiah says cheerfully. "And best of all, this crew won't ask questions."
"That's the crew we want," My mate's voice is distant.
"If you say so." I watch as the ship settles on the landing strip and then a ramp lowers from the fat, rounded belly of the thing. A mesakkah male with big, shiny horns bounds down the ramp and talks to one of the uniformed port workers that appears with a datapad in hand, taking notes.
Bethiah strides forward, all confidence. Nassakth puts his arm around my shoulders, tugging me closer to him. "Are you sure you want to do this, my mate? I will understand if you wish to stay home."