With her palms resting on the hard breadth of Teq’s torso to steady herself, she lifted to her tiptoes. He angled downward to again meet her halfway. The fearful tusks framing his wide mouth were far apart enough that she didn’t even feel them. But as her eyes drifted shut, she didn’t fool herself that she was kissing a human male.
The pulsing thrum under her hands was too fast and furious, and to her shock, her own heart raced to follow along with the tempestuous beat. When he wrapped his arm behind her shoulders, she leaned in farther. Some part of her—a part more unbelievable than anything she’d experienced since arriving at the Big Sky Intergalactic Dating Agency outpost in Sunset Falls, Montana—longed to meld with that wild pulse.
Some distant part of her—maybe the part she’d left on Earth?—sent up a warning flare. This wasn’t her, couldn’t be her. She’dneverindulged such a reckless urge.
And once again, where had that gotten her? Though she’d had big dreams once, even if she couldn’t quite remember what they were, she’d had to shrink to survive. Now, she might be small compared to Teq, but she was making her own way to the dreams she’d forgotten.
Skimming her hands higher, she clenched her fingers over his shoulders where the tough skin thickened into scales that caught the silvery light. With a rasping noise, he wrapped another arm behind her.
And she was flying.
Wait, not flying, he’d just anchored one of those lower arms under her backside, lifting her higher. Her lips parted under his in surprise, and he deepened the kiss.
Oh, those tusks were scary, but his mouth was soft and gentle, unlike the rest of him, coaxing her wider yet, as if wild and reckless was what he wanted too. She tasted him, cool and a little mineral-y, like very expensive sparkling water, but with a hint of something darker and rougher. Her head was whirling as if she’d been launched into space without any protection at all, and she broke the kiss with a gasp.
They gazed at each other, and this close, she saw herself reflected in his faceted black eyes. She looked…thoroughly kissed.
He didn’t try to hold her, instead easing her carefully to the ground. But when she swayed as he released her, he kept one lower hand at her elbow.
Lips throbbing so hard it was all she could do not to reach up and touch the swollen flesh, she gazed at him wordlessly.
He tilted his head, antennae wiggling with what she would’ve sworn were nerves. “Did I… Was that kiss within standard deviation of normal Earther dating ritual distribution?”
Her tender mouth felt like it didn’t even belong to her as she smiled. How long had it been since she’d been genuinely charmed? “I think I probably shouldn’t have joined the Intergalactic Dating Agency if I couldn’t handle a little deviation.”
He made that vibrating noise again that was an orc chuckle. When he dipped his head toward her, those alien eyes glinted at her. “It is intrepid of you to come so far.”
Had anyone ever considered her intrepid? She very much doubted that; certainly she’d never thought it of herself. She started to wave off the assessment, then paused. Itwasbrave, wasn’t it?
“I haven’t thought about it much,” she admitted. “I just…went for it.”
He tilted his head again, the same way he had when he kissed her. “Whydidyou join the IDA?”
There was a hint of incredulity in his voice, she thought, but maybe that was to be expected. After all, the orcs had opened their home—such a fragile bubble of breathable air in the vastness of space, despite the rocks jutting all over—so of course Teq wanted to know the sorts of things that wouldn’t show up in a dating profile. “I wanted a new life for myself and Ollie,” she said, and that was the truth, if not the whole truth. “Discovering the IDA was like nothing I’d ever thought possible.” And that was very true.
Teq looked down at her. “From what I understand, it’s possible because Mag paid quite a lot for the opportunity.”
That suggestion was less charming, and she bristled a little. “I’m not sure if you’re implying anything,” she said, putting a definitive edge to her own voice to make it clear that he better not be implying anything, “but the IDA made very clear to us that if anyone chooses not to continue with dating and, um, mating, it’sover.”
He stalked beside her in silence for a few steps. “And the IDA didn’t imply that you all would be compensated in some other way?”
Now she was definitely glaring at him. “Dating first, mating maybe,” she said firmly. “No one here is a rent-an-Earthgirl.” She was beyond glaring, and moving full-on into angry. “If all I wanted was cold, hard cash, I would’ve kept my mouth shut and stayed on Earth.” She knew her mouth was running away with her—not so different from when she kissed him, actually—but she couldn’t stop herself. “I know this crew isn’t rich. But wealth doesn’t guarantee happiness or health or even safety. Our planet is suffering because some of our people think money matters most of all.” She and Ollie had suffered for the same reason, which wasn’t anyone’s business but she couldn’t stop the deluge of rageful words. “I chose the orcs from the IDA profile book because it specifically said your people had to leave your home, and I thought you of all people would understand…” She finally managed to silence herself, her fingers tightened into fists, the tension radiating all the way up her arms and into her jaw.
“Understand what?” That edge had left his voice, but in some ways the gentleness made her more suspicious.
So she just shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Your IDA profile said the orcs need someone to be their dates to this interstellar ball. That’s why we’re here. If there’s a chance of something more, that will be up to each couple. Or throuple or whatever.” Damn, she couldn’t keep blushing like this.
After a moment, Teq flicked his antennae. “That is all true.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “I did not mean to anger you with my questions.”
“I’m not angry,” she said. “Okay, not just angry. I’m confused. Why are we here if you don’t want dates and maybe mates?”
He hunched all four of his shoulders. And though the abashed stance didn’t make him smaller, his contrition seemed genuine. “Mag and Amma decided it was time to challenge how the Luster consortium sees us. They say it’s about being perceived as reliable and decent. As if being matched to puny, squishy people such as Earthers would make us seem less crude and monstrous.”
Crude and monstrous. He was saying something about his people that she’d thought to herself, silently and judgmentally. But… “Squishy?” she said, caught between outrage and laughter.
Teq lifted his hand, all six-times-four digits flexing. “Soft and yielding,” he clarified. “Fragile and unthreatening.”
Deciding outrage was the more appropriate reaction, she scowled at him. “Just because we’re…squishy doesn’t mean we’re weak,” she informed him. She had not left Earth so far behind just to hear such bullshit again. Not even from her own mind and certainly not from any male.