Read Online The Pearl (Galactic Jewels Book 1) by Jen Greyson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jen Greyson
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chairs stood at one end, high-backed replicas of the Mother Divine’s throne. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, replicas of Foley sea creatures. Crystalline tentacles trailed from the central orb, its red body filled with sparkling gems. I searched the windows for the Samarian’s approaching ship, seeing nothing but asteroids. A heaviness filled my stomach. Where was she?
I sighed and stepped into the room, spotting a unit blinking in the wall separating the bar from the dining area. I wasn't excited about the bar being down here if Dirk was still intent on coming to find one.
I hurriedly hailed M, straining to hear him over a staticky connection. "Can you hear that on your end?"
"What?"
"Nothing." I wasn't wasting precious seconds on non-critical details. Acknowledging the intercommunicator issue meant I'd have to file a report and I dreaded having to wade through details of mechanical things I knew little about. I gave M the situation with Dirk and asked him to find out the deal with the missing Samarian.
“Would you like to standby while I check?” M asked. Dirk appeared in the doorway, paused, scanned the empty dining area and bar, then spotted me and came over. “No,” I said, in a rush to get off the call and pay attention before he unzipped anything else. “Find out and call me back. Thanks.” I disconnected and rubbed my sleeve, doing my best to act like the pearl and not fidget impatiently. I inhaled and concentrated on the silk wrapping me in a thick, comfortable layer like a never-ending hug that I fiercely needed.
“What can I get you to drink?” His voice was nice; melodic and rich like Mercev coffee laced with Pia chocolate. Had he been any other male, I’d have entertained a conversation. But he wasn't. He was Dirk Battleship, whose discussions led to meaningless, mindless sex.
I cringed, furious that he continued to lead my thoughts into making sex something awful. Only he would be able to turn such a soul-binding practice into an act of debauchery. And why was I even thinking about that around him. I ground my teeth together. “Nothing for me, thank you.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He passed me and walked behind the bar, squatting to rummage through the cabinet doors, opening and closing them. I entered the dining area and withdrew the curved pillowed seat and arranged my j ū nihitoe so I wouldn’t wrinkle it. I expected M’s callback to come any second and I wanted to look pristine for the Samarian, not rumpled and cranky.
Dirk followed, intent on hanging with me until she arrived instead of leaving like I'd hoped. He set a bottle and small glass on the table. I read the silver and grandin label, confused. He hadn’t unearthed that bottle back there as a lucky stab in the depths of a random cabinet. No way would anyone have stocked that, let alone left it behind. He’d brought it on-board.
His gaze roamed over me again and he shifted uneasily against the constraint of his jacket and tugged the sleeve like he wasn’t used to wearing it beneath his coveralls. Maybe he had a date with his next conquest and had dressed up for the occasion. I’d imagined him wearing something less… charming while he traveled the universe wrench in one hand, cock in the other. I shivered, hating that he’d given me any reason to think of sex as awful and dirty and frustrated at my admission of hate. He continued to bring my human to the surface. Sex was amazing and wonderful and transformational. I’d spent a decade learning how to give and receive pleasure from species across the galaxies. I’d been trained in techniques exceeding Dirk’s awareness. He took sex. He didn’t give.
I looked away, concerned that I cared what he thought or how he behaved. He wasn’t my problem. Our paths would never cross again. He could take whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted without impacting me one bit.
His hand smoothed the front of his jacket and slid the button free, releasing a long sigh
I sighed and stepped into the room, spotting a unit blinking in the wall separating the bar from the dining area. I wasn't excited about the bar being down here if Dirk was still intent on coming to find one.
I hurriedly hailed M, straining to hear him over a staticky connection. "Can you hear that on your end?"
"What?"
"Nothing." I wasn't wasting precious seconds on non-critical details. Acknowledging the intercommunicator issue meant I'd have to file a report and I dreaded having to wade through details of mechanical things I knew little about. I gave M the situation with Dirk and asked him to find out the deal with the missing Samarian.
“Would you like to standby while I check?” M asked. Dirk appeared in the doorway, paused, scanned the empty dining area and bar, then spotted me and came over. “No,” I said, in a rush to get off the call and pay attention before he unzipped anything else. “Find out and call me back. Thanks.” I disconnected and rubbed my sleeve, doing my best to act like the pearl and not fidget impatiently. I inhaled and concentrated on the silk wrapping me in a thick, comfortable layer like a never-ending hug that I fiercely needed.
“What can I get you to drink?” His voice was nice; melodic and rich like Mercev coffee laced with Pia chocolate. Had he been any other male, I’d have entertained a conversation. But he wasn't. He was Dirk Battleship, whose discussions led to meaningless, mindless sex.
I cringed, furious that he continued to lead my thoughts into making sex something awful. Only he would be able to turn such a soul-binding practice into an act of debauchery. And why was I even thinking about that around him. I ground my teeth together. “Nothing for me, thank you.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He passed me and walked behind the bar, squatting to rummage through the cabinet doors, opening and closing them. I entered the dining area and withdrew the curved pillowed seat and arranged my j ū nihitoe so I wouldn’t wrinkle it. I expected M’s callback to come any second and I wanted to look pristine for the Samarian, not rumpled and cranky.
Dirk followed, intent on hanging with me until she arrived instead of leaving like I'd hoped. He set a bottle and small glass on the table. I read the silver and grandin label, confused. He hadn’t unearthed that bottle back there as a lucky stab in the depths of a random cabinet. No way would anyone have stocked that, let alone left it behind. He’d brought it on-board.
His gaze roamed over me again and he shifted uneasily against the constraint of his jacket and tugged the sleeve like he wasn’t used to wearing it beneath his coveralls. Maybe he had a date with his next conquest and had dressed up for the occasion. I’d imagined him wearing something less… charming while he traveled the universe wrench in one hand, cock in the other. I shivered, hating that he’d given me any reason to think of sex as awful and dirty and frustrated at my admission of hate. He continued to bring my human to the surface. Sex was amazing and wonderful and transformational. I’d spent a decade learning how to give and receive pleasure from species across the galaxies. I’d been trained in techniques exceeding Dirk’s awareness. He took sex. He didn’t give.
I looked away, concerned that I cared what he thought or how he behaved. He wasn’t my problem. Our paths would never cross again. He could take whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted without impacting me one bit.
His hand smoothed the front of his jacket and slid the button free, releasing a long sigh
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