Epilogue

STARR SAT ON the back of Tarle’s moped, his arms wrapped tightly around Tarle’s waist as they jetted through the city. Local vehicle traffic had streets next to the pedestrian sidewalks, an extravagance that smaller towns couldn’t afford. The faster highway was high above, but they needed to buy some things to outfit the spaceship before they flew back home so had chosen to fly low instead.

“We need a thicker blanket,” Starr said into the back of Tarle’s neck just so he could feel Tarle shiver with want in his arms. The brush of breath against his neck or ear seemed to set Tarle off every time, and Starr was happy to take full advantage of that. The best part was that Tarle was more than eager for Starr to go through with the wicked thoughts that usually accompanied that sensual brush of air.

They were so perfectly matched; sometimes Starr was startled at the revelation. Calling Antonio and explaining to him that all of Starr’s future sex would be monogamous and not on film had been easy. Knowing that Tarle was also having naughty thoughts about what they could do on a thicker blanket was even better.

They were both half-hard by the time Tarle pulled up in front of a likely looking store. The front window had everything from TVs to pillows, so finding a comforter shouldn’t be too difficult. They got off the moped and lingered for a long moment until they were sure they wouldn’t embarrass themselves. Tarle activated his security measures, toned down for the more civilized planet as he didn’t want to kill anyone, and they headed for the store.

“Oliver Stafford has vanished into the Stafford mansion,” Steel Daily was saying on the TV. The image of his face vanished and was replaced by a picture of Starr’s childhood home. Daily’s voice continued to speak. “All our requests for interviews have been ignored, and he has not been seen in public in the two days since his younger brother, Aster Stafford, beat him at the mecha races. Of course, his hiding might have something to do with the recent allegations of murder, attempted murder, and sabotage that have been leveled against him.”

Starr hid a grin and followed Tarle inside the store. Oliver would regroup, alert his team of lawyers, and start fighting back. By that time, Starr and Tarle would be safe on Nusquam, where any reprisals of the more murderous sort would be difficult.

The police chief had grumbled at them as he left the VIP room after the race. “That wasn’t a damned confession.” And it hadn’t been, but it cast more than enough suspicion on Oliver so the case had been opened. According to their lawyers, the file folder was growing rather large; Oliver’s own lawyers would be having a difficult time sweeping it all under the rug.

Yet, truthfully, Starr didn’t care what happened to Oliver. He cared that Tarle’s name was losing some of the stark blackness that had gotten him banned from any technological communities. The fact that Tarle wasn’t guilty of killing all those people coupled with how amazing his black-hole simulator was had opened quite a few doors for him. Since Tarle was happy, Starr was happy. It didn’t matter to either of them that Oliver might never spend time behind bars. They had gotten their revenge on him, and even better, they had found each other in the process.

They stopped walking through the store at the display of bedding. Tarle was looking at the different colors and fabrics with his bottom lip caught thoughtfully between his teeth. Starr ran his hand down Tarle’s back, briefly cupping his shapely bottom and making him jump in surprise, before reaching forward to touch a nice blue blanket with a soft weave.

Tarle glared at Starr for a moment, the front of his body hidden against the display, before also reaching forward to touch the same blanket.

“I like it,” Starr said, breathing into Tarle’s ear as he spoke. Tarle shivered, his scowl not abating in the slightest, but he nodded. Then he moved backward until his ass was pressed against Starr’s front.

“Shall we head home?” Tarle asked over his shoulder. Starr blinked at Tarle in aroused surprise for a long moment before a wide grin grew across his face.

“I like that idea,” Starr agreed. He bent to press a quick kiss against Tarle’s willing lips, before turning abruptly with the blanket in hand to go pay. He liked that idea a lot.