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A dab of precum had formed on his tip.
“I’ll take care of that part in 1.4752 shifts, my male.” She issued that sexy promise.
As they cleaned themselves and dressed and completed the other sunrise rituals, she mentioned all the possible ways she could tend to him. With her hands, her lips, her pussy.
That conversation didn’t help Strike’s state.
Or Kesser’s. She didn’t know if she could last until that gap in their schedules.
She wanted her cyborg that badly.
* * *
They walked into the nourishment-eating chamber side by side. Their fingers were linked.
The bulge in Strike’s body armor wasn’t as pronounced. And Kesser had wrangled her desire under control.
That was good because her mom was standing by the horizontal support and was waiting for them.
She had already set out the nourishment bars and beverages. Strike had been given Pirx Berry-flavored treats. Her mom knew they were his favorite flavor.
“Mom.” Kesser hugged her.
“Kesser’s Mom.” Strike wrapped his arms around both of them.
It was a routine they had. And it never failed to make her mom smile.
“You two.” Her mom batted their shoulders. “Go. Eat. You must be hungry.”
“We have worked up an appetite.” Kesser grinned.
“I don’t want to know how you did that.” Her mom covered her ears with her hands.
Kesser laughed.
Her cyborg chuckled.
Her mom’s lips twitched.
They sat around the horizontal support. The three of them ate and drank and chattered about the planet rotation ahead of them. There was mirth and teasing, companionship and love, and most of all, there was family.
Strike slid one of his booted feet between Kesser’s. That physical connection added to her happiness.
“Then, when I saw Vera Inada, the defense procurement agent I imitated on the rescue mission, I turned into the next chamber. I knew I couldn’t maintain a blank expression around her.” Kesser shared that story with her mom. “Strike followed me into that chamber.” She patted his leg. “And we walked in on the Minister of Agri-lots having his ass examined by one of his support beings.” She grinned. “So now there are two beings I have to avoid.”
Her mom laughed. “What did you do?”
“I couldn’t do anything.” Kesser shook her head. “I couldn’t say anything. The sight of the male erased everything in my brain.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “He was wearing pink leg coverings under his uniform, Mom. They had images of purple-and-yellow bovines with hearts in their eyes.”
“Bovines.” Her mom laughed so hard she wheezed.
“Luckily, Strike saved me. Again.” Kesser gazed at her cyborg, not attempting to hide her adoration for him. “He told the Minister of Agri-lots the pink mark on his right ass cheek was likely not a reason for emotional damage, but he should see a medic to 100.0000 percent confirm that.”
“There’s an 84.1253 percent probability it’s a scar.” Strike shrugged.
“The Minister of Agri-lots thanked him.” And ignored her. Thankfully. “The support being seemed to be even more grateful.”
The young male looked comically relieved to have someone else deliver the diagnosis on the pink mark.
