Waking Dream [Tales of the Citadel 23] by Viola Grace Page B

a whisper. “What can’t we do?”
    She grinned, “Sex on the dance floor is frowned on.”
    He spun her out and brought her back against him with a thud, still moving to the rhythm. The crowd cheered. Wiyra snaked her hands up around his neck and loosed his hair. He did the same to her and with another twirl, her hair swung loose in a heavy wave while his floated eerily around him.
    She stepped, twisted, pulsed with every shift in tempo, her hands moving from neck to chest to arms and back to hands as they circled, parted and came back together.
    Other dancers started to move with them as the gods were satisfied by their physical sacrifice. Wiyra and Burin kept dancing, twisting and writhing as much as their armoured suits would allow.
    As the beat finally slowed, they were chest to chest, slowly moving in a circle that, to Wiyra, felt like the mark of harmony on all the local temples. She inhaled Burin’s scent from the crook of his neck, and his lips nibbled at her ear. Her body was definitely warm, coated in sweat and she had never felt less like being in public.
    When the music stopped, they froze in place and slowly lowered their arms.
    Wild applause broke out, and Elder Miyan came up to them, a hot blush in her cheeks. “Well, that was…well. Excellent, Yavila’s daughter. You and your partner are free to go.”
    She tried to control her breathing and bowed her head. “Thank you, Grandmother. We will be on our way.”
    Burin put his arm around her waist and started on their way back to the shuttle when they heard, “Wiyra!”
    Wiyra turned. “Yes, Elder Miyan?”
    Her grandmother swallowed. “Your mother would be proud, and I would be happy to tell you about her if you would visit again.”
    Her throat closed with emotion, and she nodded.
    Burin spoke for her. “That will be acceptable. She will contact you when she knows an available time.”
    “Thank you, Tracker.” The Elder brushed at her eye and turned away.
    Wiyra and Burin returned to the shuttle and headed back to Reevish. Wiyra was busy writing the report when Burin took the data pad out of her hands and pulled her into his lap.
    “I didn’t know you were such a passionate dancer.” He smiled and caressed her hip.
    “The Hayish are great dancers. We have a party every time two platforms get together. If you don’t dance, you will never meet a member of the opposite sex or the same sex if that is your preference. You have to get out onto the dance floor where clans and families don’t matter, just for a few minutes.” She leaned her head on his shoulder.
    “I can see that it would be an important socialising skill.”
    “Oh, it was. You had some nice moves. Do Wyorans and Azon dance much?” She teased the closure of his suit near his neckline.
    “They are both species that are very big on any rituals that will get them closer to a mate.” He chuckled and played with her hair. “Dancing is one of the necessary skills I had to acquire.”
    “I like it. I am normal when I am dancing, just another girl.” She feathered small kisses along his jaw toward his mouth.
    “You are never just another girl, Wiyra. You are extraordinary in every way and a truly unique female. I am glad you didn’t find a mate among your kind. It was far luckier for me.” He turned and caught her lips in a kiss that made the insulated suit seem stifling.
    He reached out and set the flight computer to automatic return.
    “That will take days.” She gasped as his hands opened her suit.
    “I will just tell them that your suit was damaged and that the containment could not be assured.” He leaned down and his teeth crunched through the circuitry of her suit.
    She held on as he moved them to the back of the shuttle, and she sat on the bunk as he peeled the suit off her, carefully damaging a few more nodes on his way.
    She removed the thick fabric of his suit with a bit of effort. When they were both unclothed, he took his time, stroking her skin and tracing the