Page 6 of The Build Up

He does it because he can; because he knows what kind of mood I’m in.

Over the balcony railing, back under cover, through the glass doors, into our house on Earth—a structure of glass and metal and concrete.

Silent, graceful, he brings me down the hall, not caring that he’s trailing water everywhere. In the soft light, I catch a glimpse of his face.

His pale hair is slicked back. His features—hard, elegant, undeniably Kordolian—shimmer in the warm glow of the lamplight.

Like a sculpture wrought from silver.

He takes me through our bedroom suite and into the bathroom adjacent, where he sets me down on my feet and promptly goes about undressing me.

I let him do everything.

I know his intentions, and I know he likes to take charge, to be in control.

And sometimes, I just want to be taken care of.

I’ve been dealing with enough responsibility as it is. Between coordinating the orbital farms, taking care of Ami, and acting as a sort of go-to person for all human concerns while onboardSilence,I’ve done enough of late.

That’s not to mention the morning sickness.

Even Zharek and Zyara couldn’t sort that one out.

Thank goodness it’s passed now.

Tarak gives me a look. Iknowthat look.

Allow me…

I nod. Neither of us says a word. It’s more profound that way, anticipating his thoughts and yet entranced by the mystery of what goes on in that labyrinthine alien mind of his.

He starts to undress me, pulling my loose, rain-drenched top over my belly, my torso, my breasts…

I lift my arms to aid him. He peels the garment up and over, then deftly tosses it into the laundry chute.

With the same fluid, practiced movements, he unclasps my bra and disappears it. My stretchy tights are next, slipped over my hips, along with my underwear.

He draws them down to my ankles.

I kick them off, leaving a trail of red mud and water on the floor.

Tarak’s gaze travels up and down my naked body, desire swirling in crimson. Electrifying me.

He runs his hands down my back, curving them around to the swell of my pregnant belly. Then, he takes one of my hands and twirls me like a dancer, leading me into the shower.

The sensors activate, sending a cascade of warm water from the rose in the ceiling—a different kind of rain, warm and steamy, the exact temperature that I like.

Still half-clothed, Tarak stands before me and cradles my belly again.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I revere you and this life you hold within you. The first was miracle enough. To know that we will have asecond… I’m fortunate beyond my wildest imagination.”

Through the cascade of the shower, my eyes flutter wildly in surprise. “Tarak…”

Sometimes, he gets like this. A mood overtakes him. His aura burns so hot and bright it’s as if I’m standing before the sun.

I know there isn’t a single thing I can do to dissuade him right now.

And I don’t mind.

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