Page 56 of Sunastara & the Venusian
Elanie’s distress clanged between my ears.
“What is it?” Freddie asked with a frown.
“I’m not sure. Elanie says something’s happening up on thirty-six.”
I commed.
She made a gagging noise.
I clicked off. “Well, whatever it is, it’s enough to make Elanie gag. I guess I’m going up to deck thirty-six. Care to join me?”
Squeezing my fingers, he said, “If whatever’s going on up there is bad enough to gross out a bionic, you bet your ass I’m coming.”
As soon asthe elevator dinged, it rolled through the doors, shoving me back—a thick, raw tension like a planet-sized harp string seconds away from springing free from.
“What in hells is that?” I shook my head, trying to clear out the warm, silky fog sinking over me.
Before Freddie could answer, Elanie raced down the hall, sliding between us to take our place in the elevator. Pale, almost green, she looked from Freddie to me, then said, “I quit,” while the doors slid closed.
“She can’t quit,” I said, frowning at the elevator. “Can she?”
Freddie only shrugged, then he asked, “Is it hot uphere?” When he squeezed the back of his neck, that round vein popped across his wrist. “I feel hot.”
“It might be a little”—I swallowed, overcome by a need to not only trace that vein, but to lick it too—“hot.”
Music floated through the air, enthralling, atmospheric, impossibly dreamy as we walked down the hall, passing lingerie shops, strip clubs, the entrance to the live sex show on this extremely racy deck. All empty. “Where is everyone?” I asked.
Instead of answering, Freddie bent down to pick something up from the floor, pulling my attention to his gorgeous butt.Stars, it was spectacular. So round and firm. While I considered what it might feel like to bite it, he turned toward me, his lips as red as cherries, his eyes dark and smoldering. A pink thong dangled from his finger. “I think someone’s lost their underwear.” Dropping the thong back to the floor, he blinked. “Something’s happening to me. I feel”—he tugged on his collar—“strange.”
Tearing my eyes from his throat, his chin, his lips, I looked past him down the hallway. He was right. Because he was always right. He was right and delicious, and I needed to kiss every single inch of his entire body?—
“Sunny?”
Rolling my neck, I said, “Me too. I mean, I’m strange too.” I undid the top button of my blouse. “And my clothes feel too tight.”
“Speaking of clothes.” Freddie pointed at the light fixtures along the wall, the paintings and digpics serving as hooks for discarded shirts, pants, bras, and underwear, even a pair of Argosian coveralls. “What in the worlds is going on up here?”
Barely hearing my voice over the blood drumming in my ears, I said, “I don’t know. But stay close to me.” And he did,closing the distance between us, the heat from his body warming my already scalding skin.
Each step forward felt like fighting the tide, an undertow of need and desire swirling around me, pulling me back toward him.
“Sunny. This is… I’m not…” His voice came out strained, hoarse, stirring the tiny hairs on my neck.
“I know,” I told him. “I know. Just keep walking.” But when we reached the end of the hallway where it opened into the galleria, I gasped. “Good gods.”
Tangled on the floor, sprawled over chairs and couches, half-submerged in the fountain, hundreds of guests writhed in a naked, moaning, multi-species free-for-all.
Freddie’s hands curled around my arms, and I vanished into the sensation, nothing else in the worlds existing but the indentation of his fingertips on my skin. Until he said, “What the fuck are they doing?” and I burst suddenly into manic, giddy laughter. He did too. And as we stood there, watching, laughing, I thought,oh no.
Somehow, the hysteria broke through the incessant onrush of mindless, endless wanting long enough for a single coherent thought to override my short-circuiting brain. I knew what this was. I’d felt this way before. Wanted like this.Neededlike this.
Scanning the galleria, I hissed a curse. This was bad. This was really, really bad. “It’s the pleasure pods,” I said, pointing to the bank of kidney-shaped capsules along a far wall. They were all open, all active, with bright-red light spilling from each one like wine from a glass. “They’re malfunctioning.” I fanned my neck as a bead of sweat seared a path down my spine. “All of them.”
“That’s not good.” Freddie yanked his tie loose. “We need to tell somebody, right?”
