I do, and I hope I’m not wrong to revel in how right it feels to have him as an anchor.
2
Ozias
Thirteen Solars Left
Her small hand gripping my arm has warmth slinking through my veins. Quinn is the most beautiful alien I’ve ever seen. There’s something about her that’s different than the rest. Quiet strength. Hidden determination. A pulse beneath her surface that I want to tap into.
It’s always the quiet ones.
That’s what Molly said once when she came across my special contraption crate, even going as far as to calling my workspace the Little Shop of Horrors. The tools she found were ones designed for a mort’s pleasure. It’s rekking lonely when you don’t have a mate, and your hand is only so exciting. I feel no shame for getting creative.
A robotic hand?
A sleeve designed to fit the girth of your cock, slicked with oil?
A clamp for your sac to prolong the release of your seed?
Definitely keeps things fresh in that regard. Jareth, the filthy mortarekker, has raided my crate on more than one occasion. He’s also known to come up with new ideas and set me on course to build them.
“Can you see colors?” I ask, glancing over at the beautiful alien.
Her smile is shy. “I can. I just can’t see anything with clarity.”
“Calix wears spectacles that belonged to his father. I think we could replicate them for you.”
“Oh, Oz, I’d be so grateful.”
I puff out my chest, already feeling as though I’m a decent mate for my female.
“Want me to show her around?” Sayer asks, popping up around the corner. “I know you’ve been working on the weapon and would probably like to get back to it.”
I bristle at the idea of another mort handling Quinn. The thought of them touching her irritates me. “It’ll be brief and then she’s going to help me.”
Sayer lifts a brow, a knowing glint in his dark eyes. “I see. Anything I can assist with?”
“Actually,” I say, stopping in front of him. “I need several items. Can you gather them and put them in my room?”
He pulls out a tablet and begins jotting down everything I request. A smirk tugs at his lips when I ask for extra bedding and clothing for Quinn. Of course she’s staying with me. It’s the safest place for her.
“Got it. It’ll be there when you finish,” he assures me.
I give him a nod and then show Quinn the various sectors of the facility. I keep it brief, knowing she can’t see them anyhow.
“Come on,” I say, guiding her to the door that leads to the underground wells. “I have an idea that will serve two purposes.”
“What are we doing?”
“We’re going swimming. But don’t tell our commander, Breccan. It’s forbidden.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “Are we going to get in trouble?”
“No one’s going to find out, Whisper.” I wink at her and usher her down the stairs. “And if they do, we’ll deny it all.”
She lets out a breathy laugh that makes my cock twitch in my minnasuit. “It sounds as though you’re used to getting away with things.”
“There are other morts around here who do a good job of attracting the attention on themselves. I simply keep my trouble to the shadows where no one can see.”
“What’s in that door?” she asks, pausing to squint.
“Reform cells. They don’t get much use.” I tug her along. “Come on. I want you to see this.”
Her smile falls, making my heart drop with it. “I hope I can.”
We make it to the door that leads to the underground wells. As soon as I push through, the cool air in the cavernous area slithers around us. Quinn shivers and leans against my arm.
“What is this place?”
“It’s where our drinking water is taken from. We sanitize it and filter it, but Breccan still doesn’t want us swimming in it.” I step away from her and unzip my minnasuit. “But I need something from the bottom. Can you swim?”
“I can swim. I want to help. What are we getting?”
“Haxagranules.”
“Haxa what?”
“It’s hard to explain, but it’s plentiful at the bottom.” I peel my suit down and let it hang at my waist. I snag a canister that we sometimes use to collect edible creatures from the wall and then pick up another one for Quinn. “We’ll swim to where they’re located, fill these up, and bring them to the top.”
“Are we skinny-dipping?” She bites on her bottom lip, her cheeks burning crimson as she eyes my bare chest.
I cock my nog to the side as I set the canisters down at our feet. “I do not know this term.”
“Swimming naked.”
A groan slips past my lips. “You can keep your suit on, but I swim better without mine.”
“Me too,” she breathes, squinting up at me.
Reaching up, I tug on one of her kinky curls, watching it bounce cheerfully. “I will see everything of yours,” I utter in a low, husky tone. “And you won’t see anything of mine.”