“Dispatched?” I tilted my head.
“Explained that they were no longer needed and that they should leave.”
I chuckled. “No doubt that was successful.”
“It was.”
We sat together in silence that was almost comfortable. “Where are we going?” I blurted out my question.
“We are heading back to Earth, per your wishes. Albeit slower,” he added apologetically. “My hyperdrive is not at full functionality.”
Sadness suffused me. “Do we have to?”
“Is that not what you want?”
“It was.” I picked at my nails. “But?—”
“But what?”
“I was about to be fired. My birthday celebration—before we met,” I interrupted myself to give him a rueful smile. “My celebration reminded me I was at a crossroads.” My apartment felt emptier than ever, the city outside just a blur of obligations and missed connections. Friends were scarce, and love … well, that had never knocked. I inhaled deeply, pondering my next words. “I would like to stay. If you would permit me.” At his blank expression, I continued in a torrent. “I have a lot of skills, and I’m a fast learner. Maybe we could be a team, a partnership?” My words faltered as I tried to interpret his expression.
His yellow eyes lit up, and I had my answer before he opened his mouth. “I would very much like you to stay. We can work out the details.”
“That’s awesome.” I frowned. “Although let’s still go to Earth.”
“I do not understand.”
“Maybe let me tell my family I’ll be traveling for a while.”
“That is doable.”
“Excellent.” I breathed a sigh of relief now that my future had a new, more exciting direction. A smirk formed, and I saw the question in his expression. “Let’s finish what we started.”
The pupils in his now amber eyes dilated. “I will put the ship on autopilot.” Cair stood from the bed and walked to one of the smooth gray walls. Except it wasn’t fully smooth. One of those glowing squares of a rough-hewn dark stone broke up the monotony. A panel slid open in that square, and Cair pressed buttons on the revealed screen.
“Cool,” I said to myself, as Cair finished and the panel slid closed.
An ember burned within me at the smoldering look on Cair’s face when he faced me again. The jumpsuit he wore looked like the ones humans on Earth pictured for interstellar adventures in science fiction. I swallowed a laugh at the random thought.
He made short work of the distance between the wall and the bed, but remained standing.
“Are you joining me?” I asked in confusion.
He rocked back on his feet, the action suggesting nervousness. “I have never been with a human before.”
“I’ve never been with an Elkathan before,” I replied with a faux-nonchalant shrug. “We’ll learn as we go.”
“Let me see you.” His voice carried both a question and an order.
I nodded, then gripped the top of the sheet tucked over me under my armpits.
He shook his head. “I will do it.”
I released the sheet, and he leaned over me to take hold of the top. The scent of his maleness—that heady mixture of the smell of rain after it has newly fallen mixed with a light scent of a cut pine tree—enveloped me.
Cair pulled the dark green sheet down my naked body in a slow, oh, so slow motion. His amber eyes flicked everywhere as the sheet passed my breasts, slid over my stomach, then revealed my naked form to his hungry gaze.
My legs, bent at the knees where they pressed together, shifted to the side of the bed closest to Cair.
