Chapter 30
Blair
Ismile at Forrest. The governor of Stele—I guess I thought he’d be the de facto leader of the pod. He’s not, though. There’s no iron glove of this is my way. Actually, he’s rather sweet. He took his time explaining everything to me. And it’s downright charming that he’s a little shy with me.
“The food was delicious,” I whisper to him. Grayson, Delmar, and Zion at the other end of the table are having a heated discussion about their favorite sports team.
“Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell Rodgers that you liked it. Did you have a favorite?”
I glance at my plate. “I’m a fan of hedge-tots, but then that’s one of the dishes that is most familiar to me. If I had to pick another, I’d say the sardani grael. The sardines and grains complimented each other well. But then I was surprised how much I liked the sauteed seaweed.”
“It’s good.” His head bobs up and down.
“What’s your favorite?” I ask Forrest.
“I don’t really have favorites, but I do like the sauce for the salmon. I tend to like most things. I’m not a big complainer.”
I glance at Alexei across the table from me as he puts in his two cents. “It’s true. For a politician, Forrest doesn’t complain. I myself love the sauteed seaweed as well. And you can’t go wrong with hedge-tots.”
I nod. “So, no favorite foods? What’s your favorite thing to do, then?
” I take a drink of my water. I’ve only had a few sips of the seaweed gin.
It’s too strong for me. And the last time I got tipsy—not that I intended to, and I know Grayson didn’t do it on purpose—I had a hard time controlling my hands.
Though I don’t think any of the guys minded.
Other than Sterling. I glance over at my neighbor.
“Do you like sports, Blair? Football or one of the shifter sports like Kunyon?” Alexei asks.
“I’ve never had time to follow it. I like the idea of watching sports and how it creates a community. My dad was a big North Dakota Bisons fan, and I suppose over the years I’ve watched some games. Though I wouldn’t guess you have football or Kunyon here?”
“No.” Alexei laughs. “We have something like what you would call track and field. It’s swimming instead of running and then throwing a trident instead of a javelin or discus. There’s a slalom-like competition where you have to be nimble through a tight space without touching the sides—”
“Because they’re electrified,” Delmar adds. The entire table is now part of our discussion.
“Electrified? That sounds dangerous.” I need to remember how different the Dorian are.
They don’t have the same sort of respect for life, for individuals.
They kill first and ask questions later.
It makes me wonder how many of the guys around the table have had to protect themselves with lethal violence.
“It is, but the courses aren’t electrified until the males are older,” Delmar says, like that makes a difference.
“Do they die if they touch the sides?”
“Oh, no. It’s not good, but they don’t die,” Alexei says.
I nod. Annabelle’s told me, and I saw on the sub, the differences between the Dorian and humans. But no . . . “That’s good. People getting hurt for sport isn’t right.”
“Human sportsmen get hurt all the time.”
“But not on purpose.”
“I don’t know anyone who runs into the barriers on purpose,” Forrest says, and he takes my hand and holds it on the table.
“I suppose that makes sense.” I don’t like it, but it does make sense. Marlee never wanted to play sports. Not that my ex would have let her. “Why should she play a sport when she can get all the exercise she needs while doing her chores?” he’d say.
“And then there’s our main sport, tritonaxis. It’s held in a stadium, much like human sports. Two teams competing, scoring points in one of three goal nets,” Forrest says.
“I’d like to watch a game sometime.” And I really mean it.
“I think we should take you to a match. Though people take it very seriously,” Grayson adds. “Zion thinks his alma mater will take the trophy this year. But he’s wrong. Athena U is going to.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of yourself, Grayson. Athena U hasn’t won anything in what . . . ten, no, eleven years.” Zion wiggles his eyebrows at Grayson. “But Deepwater has a track record of outstanding teams.”
It’s nice seeing them like this. Them talking to each other, not making me the center of the discussion.
It feels real. Like I could fit in. But then it slips back in .
. . Do I know them well enough? No, but that’s what all this is for.
Dating, checking compatibility. “Forrest, what’s your favorite team? ”
He smirks.
“Yes, Forrest, what’s your favorite team?” Alexei presses. “Zeus Academy?”
“No way,” Delmar says. And there’s a chorus of groans and agreeing noises coming from most of the guys. Everyone but Sterling. He hasn’t moved since he poured me another glass of water.
“Of course it is. I love watching what you do with the team every year,” Forrest says, gesturing to Delmar, and winks at me. “Zeus Academy is Delmar’s school and the team that Delmar coaches.”
“All right, then what’s your favorite professional team?” Delmar asks.
“Don’t have one.”
“Rotten whale spleen you don’t.” Alexei tosses back the rest of the gin in his glass. And Forrest shrugs, giving my hand a squeeze. A spark hits my skin, and goosebumps rise up my arm under the sleeve of my tunic. I try unsuccessfully to catch Forrest’s eyes.
The meal’s finished, and conversation is dying down. I have an urge to get up and start collecting the dishes, but I know better. My nephews don’t let me clear anything but my own plate, and that’s only because I told them I needed to have some value.
I’m still vibrating from the kiss Clark gave me on the observation deck, and that has me wondering how far I can go.
On top of that, I’m grappling with what Kade Driftwood said.
I need to know everything about these men.
It’s not a job interview, but it kind of is.
Do I fit in? Do I want to? And it reminds me of that first night back in my room when Zion was injured. He asked me about my hobbies.
There’s a lull in the conversation. Really, they’ve all been great about including me. Even when they are talking about tritonaxis, they really draw me into the conversation.
“Are you excited about the new Maelstrom dome?” I ask Forrest.
“I am,” he says, but that’s it. I’m not sure how I’m going to break through Forrest’s shell. “Why don’t we move to the lounge while Clark and Zion clear the table?” he suggests.
“Okay.”
He helps me with my chair and takes my arm. His lips hover over the shell of my ear. “City College,” he says.
“What?” I cock my head at him.
“That’s my favorite team, but don’t tell them,” he whispers. “It’s driven them crazy for a long time. It’s wrong, but it brings me a bit of joy to keep something to myself.”
“But now you’ve told me?”
“Indeed, and that brings me even more joy.” He smiles.
“Thank you, I’ll keep your secret.”
“No, thank you. I figured you should know, since they’re the best team.” There’s a gleam in his eyes.
“Well, I’m glad I know.”
He leads me to the sofa. And I try not to think about the dishes we’ve left back in the dining room.
Forrest sits down next to me with enough room for two people between us. I slide with as much grace as I can over to him. It’s a weird sensation, to be the one doing the chasing. Though I know he’s interested in me. He’s said as much.
“That was definitely a feast.” I turn my legs toward Forrest, pushing back into the cushy sofa. It’s huge and soft. “I could fall asleep.”
“That’s usually what happens,” Delmar says. He sits close enough that our legs brush each other. Even though there’s an acre of sofa on either side of Forrest and myself.
“I’m so glad you came out today,” Forrest says. “If you need to nap, that’s fine.”
“Oh, I think I can last a little longer,” I say.
Delmar places his hand on the round of my bent knee. And zaps of electricity zip through me.
I roll to where I’m straight between the two of them, and it makes my side press hard into Forrest.
“I’m really glad you came out, too, Blair,” Delmar says in a rough, low voice. And all thoughts of sleep vanish as he tucks a loose hair behind my ear.
Heat rises in my cheeks as Delmar’s hand lingers on my knee.
Shivers run down my spine. The air crackles with unspoken tension, and before I can stop myself, I turn toward Forrest. I hold his gaze for a second, his beautiful gray eyes telling me yes.
And I press my lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss.
His hands find their way to my waist, pulling me closer.
Delmar presses soft kisses on the back of my neck, his fingers in my hair.
I’m on fire. My brain skitters to a halt, and my lips are working on their own.
My fingers grasp at Forrest’s biceps. For a politician, his arms are dangerous.
I trace the bulge of his biceps through his shirt and around to the back of his arm.
I need to move, change positions to get a better angle.
I need more. More contact and a heck of a lot less clothes.
I’m trying to figure out how to strip while still kissing him when Forrest pulls back. “Blair,” he gasps. He pushes my chin up with his thumb.
“Forrest,” I sing.
Delmar’s lips trail to my ear. I’m sandwiched between the two of them. But I want to kiss him too.
Forrest lifts me, and in the next instant I’m facing Delmar, my butt cheeks up against Forrest’s cock.
I don’t know what’s happened to me, but I’m wiggling as I reach for Delmar’s face and pull him closer.
His lips are warm and demanding, the opposite of Forrest’s and exactly what I need. I’m on fire.
Forrest’s hands roam over my body, exploring me over the top of my tunic. I pause as he finds the neckline. His fingertips lightly trail down my spine, sending pulses of electricity to my core. I want both of them so much. It’s crazy to think they could feel the same for me.
They’re so different, yet similar. Forrest is quiet but stoic and powerful. Delmar’s quick and kind, though in a way he’s just as serene as Forrest. But the way their hands skate along my skin? I’m lost in the sensation of their touch. Hands everywhere. I’m pure energy.
“Blair,” Forrest growls into my ear, and I tilt my neck back. It’s instinct.
“Don’t offer what you don’t understand,” a voice growls from in front of the sofa.
Delmar’s lips leave mine, though he holds me close. “Sterling, if you have to be cranky, can you do it elsewhere? I’m fine if you want to wash the dishes for me.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s offering, craning her neck at Forrest. I’m making sure you don’t make a mistake.”
“We’re adults, Sterling. We can keep ourselves in line,” Forrest says.
I’m warm. And not because of the massive males pressed against me. I’m embarrassed, and the heat echoes in my cheeks.
“You could join us,” Delmar says.
“I’ll be guarding the door until Blair is ready to go back to Glyden.” Sterling thunders out of the room.
I suck my swollen lips into my mouth. “I feel like I’ve just been caught by my father making out on his sofa.”
“Sterling isn’t your father,” Delmar says.
“No, no, he isn’t.” But I don’t think he wants to be my daddy either.
“Let me help you wash the dishes, please.” Those aren’t words I ever thought I would utter.
Forrest stands, shaking his head, and holds out his hand for me. “If you really want to, it will certainly be more fun than cleaning up with that blubber fish.”
I take his hand, and for the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to cleaning.