Page 11 of Space for More

I nod, committing the name and room number to memory.

“If we message you, it’s imperative that you reply as quickly as possible. Lives may depend on your actions this week. Take this seriously,” says Agent Tysea, looking directly at me.

My lips downturn into an involuntary frown. I know what’s at stake and it’s absurd that they’re trusting two untrained people to do their jobs for them. But who am I to argue when they have the power to send me back home whenever my usefulness ends?

Both agents stand and Tysea gives Mezli a reassuring smile. “We’re confident you’ll be able to do this, Princeps Frye. Good luck and don’t hesitate to contact us at any time, for any reason.”

Mezli looks like she has a host of inappropriate replies on the tip of her tongue, but I speak first, despite the vote of confidence not being directed toward me. “Thank you, we will. Have a good evening!”

The agents head to the door, and Ashlath holds it open expectantly for me.

Right, I should go back to my hotel. I jump up from my spot on the couch, but get tangled as the blanket snags in the collar of my jumpsuit. Mezli’s four nimble hands tug it free and goosebumps raise on my arm when she casually brushes against it with her fingertips in the process.

I quickly pull away as my face heats. “Thanks again for the tea! I’ll message in the morning before I head to the convention.”

“Perfect. Sweet dreams, doctor,” Mezli replies in a purr.

Agent Tysea looks at my bare feet in distaste as I follow them to the door. Mezli thought removing my shoes when I got to her place was weird too, but living with my Japanese father for thirty years ingrained the habit in me. I slip my shoes back on at the door, scurry out the door before I can embarrass myself further in front of the agents. They don’t speak to me during the short transit ride back to my hotel, but I doubt I’d have been able to pay attention if they had. All I can think about is how the hell I’m going to get through an entire week of this. Between the agents who could send me home at any moment and my attraction to my spy partner, I’m a mess. Add in our target being my penpal crush and I’m even more fucked.

8

The welcoming event for the conference turns out to be little more than a bunch of tipsy medics and scientists mingling awkwardly. It goes by in a haze—I vaguely recall introducing myself and exchanging pleasantries with many people, but no names or faces stick. All my attention is dedicated to suppressing the heat and anger coursing through my body after my brief encounter with Eden and Mezli. Everything I’m wearing feels too tight, and I have to keep adjusting my satchel to hide my unsettling, unflagging erections.

When even small talk becomes difficult, I decide to call it a night and head back to my hotel. The conciergeimmediately leaps to his feet as I enter the hotel lobby, scurrying over to see if “Lord Nafar” needs any assistance this evening. I shake my head and wave him off as politely as possible, but he visibly deflates at my dismissal. Pardon me for not wanting to get caught up in an interminable discussion of Spire’s most exclusive nightlife when my blood feels like it’s boiling.

As soon as I reach my suite, I lock the door behind me and lean against the cool metal with a groan. I’m burning up, and a hiss escapes my lips when I accidentally brush a palm across the hard bulges in my pants. Any thoughts of staking my claim as an influential figure at the conference are gone, along with worries about business I’ll need to attend to before I leave the station. The only thing on my mind is them. Eden and Mezli.

Who gave Mezli the right to stumble back into my life, acting like I was a fond ex-lover instead of a jilted mate? Once again, she’s accompanied by someone so alluring that I could never dream of competing. Someone who cared so little for our connection that she doesn’t even remember me. They’re both poison, wracking my system with desire and futile hope that I thought I’d inoculated myself against.

I kick off my shoes and tear off my stifling jacket as I stumble to the stairs, tossing them haphazardly to the floor. Something is definitely wrong with me—the nagging voice in my head that would tell me to put things away properly is utterly silent. Next, my pants and shirt come off and land on the plush bed. Once I’m fully undressed and my undergarments lie on the expensive mosaic tile of the hygiene room, I start up the shower, keeping the temperature ice cold. The frigid water pierces into my skin like tiny daggers, but I stay under the spray, waiting for it to cool off the rage and lust coursing through my veins.

After a few minutes pass, my cocks are still out and as hard as ever despite my teeth chattering from the cold. Dammit. Why can’t I get myself under control?

I increase the water temperature. The downpour of blissfully warm water drags a moan from my lips and my eyes fall closed. My lower hands fist my lengths, pumping them roughly, and I almost cry out in relief and frustration.

I shouldn’t be doing this. Ihatethat I’m doing this. I hate that a few minutes around my mate and my human crush have turned me into some kind of mindless beast, fucking my hands while thoughts of them come to me unbidden.

What would Mezli’s hands feel like on me? Would she be gentle, taking her time to explore every inch of my cocks until I begged her for more? Or would she be as rough as I am right now, tugging harshly, brutally forcing my swift release? I thrust into my grasp, imagining that they’re Mezli’s nimble fingers instead of my own.

Fuck.How was I so wrong about Mezli before? She was sloppy and drunk when I first saw her, and dull and lifeless when we officially met. Losing her was painful, but tempered by the knowledge that she wasn’t a good match for me. But thexalaI encountered tonight is everything I’d hoped for in a mate—confident, teasing, and witty. I bet she’s the kind of woman that would deny me my release, bringing me to the edge over and over while she watches in amusement. My cocks swell at the thought, but my stomach lurches at how upset I am that she’s made me feel this way.

I scramble for another mental image that will wipe Mezli from my mind, desperate not to come from thoughts of thexalawho abandoned me. That only makes matters worse, conjuring an image of Eden kneeling before me, her huge breasts bare and her mouth open in front of my cocks as she waits for my release as Mezlipumps me, lips twisted into a suggestive smile as she watches me and Eden. I’m a pervert, jerking off to thoughts of a human I’ve only just met in person, but Goddess, the image makes me harder than I’ve been in my entire life.

With a shocked cry that catches in my throat, I double over, barely holding myself up against the slick shower wall with my upper hands. Everything in my body feels like it is short-circuiting with pleasure as my cocks erupt, spilling hot jets of pearly pink cum onto my hands and the wall I’m braced against. It goes on for what feels like minutes until I’m wrung out, my lust and anger deflating to the dull sadness and pain that’s always with me.

Wilting members in hand, I sigh as they finally return to my slit. I finish showering, making sure there’s no remaining evidence of my shameful behavior. It’s been a long time since base desire broke my willpower. I haven’t touched myself since…since that night I messaged Eden, and then promptly severed contact with her.

There’s an annoying stab of pain at how she didn’t even remember me. I shouldn’t care. She was a momentary weakness. That Eden appeared in my fantasy and drove me over the edge means nothing.

The lies I tell myself aren’t the least bit convincing. She was far more than a weakness. Eden terrified me with how much I wanted her. From across the galaxy, she entranced me with her intelligence and kindness, making me go so far as to wonder if the mate finder was wrong. That Mezli couldn’t be my true mate, because I’d never felt such an easy bond like I did with Eden. It was a pathetic crush, elevated by an even more pathetic desire to end my loneliness. As much as I hate myself for it, of course it hurts that it meant nothing to her.

Everything hurts tonight. That brief encounter with Mezli andEden left me battered. I must have done something to truly piss the Goddess off if she’s throwing both the mate who abandoned me and the first person I’d ever felt a true spark of connection with in my path at the same time. I know I’m not the best person, but I’mtrying. I suppose it’s too little, too late.

What if she’s brought them to you to give you another chance?a traitorous voice in my head whispers.What if this is the Goddess’ hand guiding you back to them?

Impossible. I shove that weak part of me away like I did with the bullies who picked on me for being too large. The comparison is apt. Hope is a bully. Hope finds your greatest desires, leaving you weak and vulnerable.

Logic is what I need right now, my best defense against more torment. And logic dictates that axalawho’s too selfish to commit to a mate hasn’t come back into my life for any good reason. That Eden being here with her is nothing more than a frustrating coincidence. All of this nonsense is purely biological; a mating hormone spike raging through my system and clouding my judgment. Now that I’ve relieved some of the tension, I can see Mezli and Eden for what they truly are—a distraction.

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