Page 46 of Sunastara & the Venusian
While his laughter faded, Freddie set three items on the counter—flour, nearButter, sugar—and said, “Tell me, Sai. Where do your moms stand on cookies?”
Turned out—according to Sai—Sonia and Lena were “huge fans” of cookies. And Freddie, in an entirely unsurprising turn of events, had a secret family recipe ready to go.
After we stuffed our bellies with warm, gooey sugar cookies, Sai ran himself a bath, and I helped Freddie clean up. As I dried the last dish, I turned to tell him he could leave, that I was okay now, thanks to him. But Sai padded back into the living room. Dressed in light blue pajamas decorated with purple smiley faces, holding a children’s book with an astronaut gorilla on the cover, he smiled at Freddie and said, “Will you read to me?”
I never knew how, what magic they used, but children always had an innate sense of who was the best storyteller in the room.
After Freddie said, “Okay, but fair warning, I go extra hard on my voices,” and followed Sai to his bedroom, I sat down on the couch, rubbed at the sudden warmth spreading through my chest, and picked up the remote.
Even though every show ever created was available in full-sensory virtual reality through everyone’s VC, we still supplied all of our guest suites with televisions. Sometimes, especially when I was tired, I found it nice to disconnect from my neural implant and watch an actual screen.
After locating reruns of my favorite show, I kept the sound muted, listening in while Freddie read to Sai about the adventures of a deep-space pilot named Captain Zorba and his gorilla second mate Bartholomew. The story was charming, and Freddie hadn’t been lying. His voices were next level, especially the goofy drawl he used for the gorilla. It made Sai guffaw in that way children did when they were lost to it, when the laughter came from the bottom of their bellies.
Once the story was finished, I heard Freddie close the book. But instead of leaving, he asked Sai to tell him about his day, if anything happened that he might remember forever. Sai mentioned several options: his visit to the Cosmic Spectacle oorthorse stables, the sugar cookies, Freddie reading to him. Freddie asked him about the Cosmic Spectacle since he hadn’t seen it yet. And Sai’s voice was so soft and sweet when he talked about the enormous horses, how some were white, some black, some golden. He went on about all the tricks they could do, how brave their riders were, his words interrupted more than once by long, slow, sleepy yawns?—
“Sunny, you’ve fallen asleep.”
“I did?” Raising my head from the couch pillow, I blinked, clearing my blurry vision until Freddie’s face swam into view. “Did Sai do the same?”
Kneeling in front of me, he said, “Out like a light.” Then he looked over his shoulder at the television. “What are we watching? Ooh, reality TV. My favorite.”
“You like reality TV?” I asked.
He turned back to me with a gleam in his eye. “I do. Especially this one.” He pointed his thumb at the screen. “Kuiper Worm Chasersis epic. So dangerous, so daring, so stupid.”
He couldn’t have known this, but if I had a love language, it was reality TV.The Real Housewives of Imperion,Keeping Up with the Royals,Kuiper Worm Chasers. I loved them all. He might as well have just sucked my earlobe into his mouth. “You know,” I said, reaching out to brush his bangs back off his forehead, “technically, this is still our day off.”
“That’s a good point.” A small but mischievous grin tugged at his lips. “We aren’t really working right now.”
“And Phoebe and Joshua were supposed to have a date tonight,” I added helpfully.
“Maybe”—the heat in his gaze transformed his careful expression into something else, something risky—“it’s not too late.”
Scooting forward, making room for him, I patted the couch. “Watch TV with me?”
Wasting no time, he crawled in behind me, his warm body curling around mine, his arm resting gently over my waist. I’d never fit together with a partner this way, my hips nestling into the hollow of his, my back sinking into the firm support of his chest, our knees notched together like interlocking puzzle pieces.
We stayed that way for a while, coiled into each other, watching grown beings willingly risk their lives to hunt three-hundred-meter-long carnivorous invertebrates in the Kuiper belt for not nearly enough credits. But as a young Ulaperian narrowly escaped a worm’s multi-rowed teeth when his ship’s reactor went on the fritz, I noticed thefingers that had been resting quietly against my belly had slipped under the hem of my shirt.
With the softest touch, his fingertips brushed over my skin, lightly skimming along my hip, across my belly, back again. With each slow line he drew across my body, his fingers rose, only a little, barely enough for me to be entirely certain he was doing it on purpose. Until they reached the border of my ribs—and kept going.
I sank my teeth into my lower lip as his fingers traveled upward in shallow, dipping switchbacks, his hand now hidden entirely under my shirt. My heart pounded and my core thrummed, my nipples pulling so tight they chafed deliciously against the lace of my bra.
His touch was meandering, painfully unhurried, as his fingers ghosted over the undersides of my breasts. He had to be teasing me, torturing me with a promise of pleasure that was so close I could taste it, but still so far I was a breath away from begging him for it. But through the haze of desire thickening around me, I wondered if maybe his slow progress was his way of asking for permission, giving me plenty of time to stop him if I wanted to. It was sweet, but ridiculous. I wouldn’t have told him to stop to find water if I was on fire.
He was so silent behind me. Not a breath, not a sigh. Not a single movement aside from his hand, his fingertips sliding over lace, still not where I needed them. The unanswered craving was agony, each sweep of his fingers sending hot, flickering pulses between my legs. But as much as I wanted to grab his hand and guide it to where I wanted it, where I was desperate for it, I refused to give in. Even if this wasn’t teasing. Even if he really was seeking my permission, we’d come too far now for me to just give it to him. On this, Iwould stand firm. I would not break. I would try very hard not to break.
His thumb slipped over the side of my breast, close enough to brush my nipple but still refusing to. And,fuck, I was going to break.
As luck would have it, we broke at the same time. While I moaned, grinding my hips back against him, he cursed into my ear, pulling my bra down, freeing my swollen, aching breasts.
I rolled toward him as he cupped my breast, finally finding my nipple, rolling the stiff peak between his thumb and finger. Snaking my hand around his neck, I pulled his mouth down to mine while his hand traveled to my other breast.
He kissed me fiercely, silently, sweeping his tongue across my lips. When he pinched my other nipple and I moaned into his mouth, his hand slid out of my shirt, moving south.
“Shh,” he warned when I gasped. But what did he expect when he slipped his hand into my pants? When he pushed my panties to the side? When he sank a finger inside me?
“Stars,” he ground out. “You’re so wet.”
