Sexual Energy - "Nice" Excerpt
Copyright © Afton Locke, 2009 - All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.
“This is Chromefield,” she said.
“Chromefield what?” he asked. “What’s the name of this country?”
“Chromefield,” Alysa repeated.
“And the name of the planet?” He raised a hand. “No, don’t tell
me. Chromefield?”
She nodded. “It makes things simpler that way.”
“Interesting. Single cultures are very unusual,” Logan remarked.
“Oh there are other nations and cultures,” she replied, “but this
is the biggest and the seat of power. Much of the planet is uninhabitable.”
When she told him the physical size of the planet, it all started
making sense. This place was a lot smaller than Geo. It was the estimated size
of Planet X, in fact…
“Hey,” he said, pointing to what resembled a cell phone resting
in the center console, “that’s a phone, a cell phone.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s a voicer.”
Conveyer? Voicer? Apparently the people here liked nouns ending
in “er”.
He watched as she touched a square object on the instrument panel
with her finger. Within seconds, the car lifted off the ground at least a foot.
“That didn’t take nearly as long as usual,” she said, shooting
him a girlish smile. “It must be your male energy.”
“Must be,” he murmured. Energy. She must be one of those
New Age chicks.
Clouds of blue billowed up to the windows as she maneuvered the
vehicle out of the parking lot and headed to a superhighway.
“What kind of fuel does this car use?” he asked. “I’ve never seen
blue exhaust fumes.” Hopefully it wasn’t as toxic to breathe as it looked.
“The conveyer uses energy, like everything else.”
The terrain was slightly hilly. Like any suburb back home, there
was grass, deciduous trees and lots of asphalt. Even though the buildings
varied in size, they were all covered in a similar, chrome-like finish. Where
was the wood, brick and stone? Heck, where was the color?
Alysa whipped in and out of traffic with the skill of a racecar
driver. Not to mention the speed. He didn’t even want to know how fast they
were going.
“Do you always drive this fast?” he asked her.
“Actually, no,” she replied, biting her bottom lip. “You’re
making it faster.”
He frowned. “Me? I’m not doing anything but sitting here.”
Other cars emitted clouds of blue, which turned pink when they
slowed down. Inside the car, a pink haze hovered on her side while blue
confined itself to his. The colors were deepest near their sexual organs.
As if it weren’t already hard enough to keep his gaze away from
those clingy shorts of hers. At the way they indented slightly at her cleft and
looked damp, as if she were aroused. The more he looked at her and thought
about slipping his finger inside that tight fabric—to see just how wet it
was—the bluer the air got. Inside his white spacesuit, he was rock-hard.
He waved to clear the blue haze it but it wouldn’t go away.
“What is this stuff?” he asked.
“Energy.”
“Well, how do I get rid of it? It’s freaking me out.”
She steered around a slow car. “Why would you want to get rid of
your energy? Without it you’d be dead.”
“This really isn’t Geo, is it?” He wanted to be doubly sure
before he got his hopes up.
She frowned again. “What is Geo?”
A cloud of blue nearly blinded him as exultation shot through his
body. He just might have reached Planet X after all.
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