“He said you were okay, but I want to hear it from you.”
“I’m okay.” My voice is still a little raspy, but that will fade.
“Good.”
“She won’t be for long if you squeeze her until she pops.” Ferrok watches us, amused.
Mooralan does ease his grip, but he doesn’t let me down. “I’m going to carry you, unless you tell me I can’t.”
“Afraid I’ll get trampled?”
“No…” He smiles with his mouth open and I see his tongue caught between his teeth, which makes me think he doesn’t want to admit it when he says. “When you disappeared in the booth, I thought something had gone horribly wrong and I just… I would like to touch you for a while, if that’s okay?”
“It’s okay.”
And he holds me against him with three of his arms while he tells me the story of the man who, moments before I got to them, fell face first down MiNo station’s version of an escalator.
I listen as they weave a path through the crowd—a crowd I’ve never been able to see over before—and into a restaurant that luckily has several things on the menu I can eat.
He lets me sit on my own, but he slings one of my legs over his, and one of his hands rests on the inside of my thigh, stroking my skin.
Ferrok sits close on my other side.
If there was a tablecloth, I would sling my leg over his too and wait to see if temptation got the better of them.
I don’t like how our booth session ended, and I realized something rather depressing as I got dressed. I can’t fuck them outside of Phantom’s… Not without substantial risks.
How sad.
“Would you like to come back to our place? After, I mean.” Mooralan asks.
Ourplace?
“You… moved in together?” If Icouldsleep with them on my personal time, that would definitely make things more convenient.
“We did.” Ferrok slides a menu in front of me. “It made the most sense.”
But if they’re living together…
“Have you shared your photo album?” I ask Ferrok.
Mooralan perks up, his fingers inching further up my leg. “What photo album?”
Ferrok ignores him, all eyes on me. “No. I signed a contract saying I wouldn’t. Besides… I only got to keep one of them.”
“Really?”
“Well, I only get to take one home at a time. The others are on file for me at Phantoms… in case I come in when you’re notthere and I would rather have time to myself instead of visiting someone else.”
“How many photos are there?” Mooralan asks.
I honestly don’t remember, so I look at Ferrok.
“Seventeen.”
“Wow.” I would have guessed lower.
“If I’d known, I might have asked for them each time, too.”
