Chapter 2 #2
"And you're supposed to be flirting with me." I leaned in, catching a whiff of something spicy and alien from his skin. "That's how this works. For charity."
His eyes darted to the door, where we could hear some very enthusiastic bidding happening. "I thought the charity had already happened."
"Oh come on! Just play along. You ask questions, pretend to be fascinated by my answers, maybe compliment my dress." I gestured to my gorgeous gown. "It's a designer’s, by the way."
Aano's blue eyes rolled dramatically, but he shifted to face me. "Fine. Where are you from?"
"Hollywood," I replied, watching for the usual reaction—the widened eyes, the sudden increase in interest that always followed the revelation of my mothers’ fame and fortune.
Instead, Aano's expression remained unchanged.
"I grew up in a compound in the Hills," I continued, testing him.
"My mothers run Sheffield Entertainment, the production company founded by my grandparents, and their films are distributed everywhere.
We had celebrities at our pool every weekend during summer break.
" It wouldn’t do to mention that my moms had barely let me talk to any of them.
"Fascinating," he deadpanned.
I laughed despite myself. "You know, most people, even people from other cultures, have heard of my mothers."
"I'm not most people. And I've never been impressed by inherited privilege."
"Ouch," I pressed a hand to my chest in mock offense. "So what does impress you, then? My sparkling personality? My charitable donations? My excellent taste in surly aliens?"
The corner of his mouth twitched again—definitely amusement this time. "Try again."
I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "I graduated from college about six months ago.”
He snorted. “So you're too young for me. I've been out of college for... about ten Earth years?”
“What's so wrong with a little fun with an older man?"
He shifted forward, setting his elbows on the table, eyes darkening as they skimmed over my body, making me feel hot all over. "A little fun, huh?"
I cleared my throat, picking at my napkin. "Also, I recently got my shuttle license. I did a six-month intensive course."
That caught his attention. "Interplanetary or just atmospheric?"
"Full interplanetary with special clearance for asteroid belt navigation," I replied, unable to keep the pride from my voice. "My instructor said I have exceptional spatial awareness."
"Why?" The question was abrupt, but there was genuine curiosity in his tone.
"Why do I have spatial awareness?"
"Why get the license? Someone with your... background could hire pilots."
I shrugged. "I want to travel, and I don’t want to depend on other people to take me places. So I bought a shuttle and I learned how to use it."
“Just like that.” Aano’s eyebrows ticked up and I wondered if I’d managed to impress him. He shifted, his posture relaxing incrementally. "What kind of shuttle?"
"It’s a modified Stellaris CX-9. Interstellar class four.
" I felt a little smug as I watched his eyebrows rise another inch.
"It’s beautiful, and luxurious, but I didn't choose it for the comfort features.
It has exceptional maneuverability for its size class, and I had the navigation system upgraded with military-grade sensors. "
"Fancy," he said, his eyes skimming over my dress as he leaned back in his chair.
I gave him my most innocently mischievous smile. "I named her Nova—my shuttle, I mean. I want to do a grand tour. My goal is to visit every inhabited planet.”
He frowned. “Alone? Not sure that’s safe.”
“I’m confident in my skills, and I can handle myself. When you're out there among the stars, everything else falls away—who your parents are, what people expect from you—and you're just... free." I paused, suddenly self-conscious. "Sorry. That probably sounds ridiculous to someone like you."
"No. It doesn't." The intensity of his gaze made my chest tight.
A server droid approached with a tray of hors d'oeuvres and cocktails. Aano selected a beer and a bowl of something that looked like it might still be alive, while I opted for a plate of tiny pastries and a glowing blue drink that promised to taste like tropical fruits but hit like whiskey.
"So, why are you bothering with all of this?" He gestured vaguely at the gala around us. “Clearly, you have the means to meet men on your own."
I swirled my drink, watching the bioluminescent particles create tiny whirlpools of light. "It’s for a good cause. My family expects me to attend these things. Maintain appearances, support the right causes, meet the right people. Gets me off their backs.”
He took a sip of his drink. "And you chose me just to push their buttons?" There was definitely amusement in his voice now.
“They probably won’t know who I selected. Most likely. And I’m twenty-three and have my own money, so they really can’t stop me. I've decided it's time to enter my slut era."
Aano choked on his drink, those intense blue eyes widening. “What?"
"My slut era," I repeated, enjoying his reaction.
"You know—exploring, experimenting, saying yes to experiences.
" I trailed a finger along the edge of the table towards where his arm was resting, not quite touching him but close enough to make my intentions clear.
"Like spending ten thousand credits to buy a date with a dangerous-looking alien. "
His eyes followed the movement of my finger, then slowly traveled up to meet mine. Something had shifted in his gaze—the professional assessment replaced by something darker, more primal.
"Dangerous-looking," he echoed. "You have no idea what dangerous looks like, princess."
“Not a princess,” I said.
"Prove it. Hell, if you’re ready to be a slut, I'm happy to help. Why don't you come sit in my lap?" Aano's voice dropped to a rumbling growl that vibrated through me like a physical touch. He braced his hands behind his head and leaned back, stretching like a big cat.
Heat rushed through my body, pooling between my thighs as his words hung in the air between us. I hadn't expected him to actually take the bait—much less to flip the script so dramatically.
"I—" My usual quick retorts failed me. I swallowed hard, pulse hammering in my throat. "That's..."
"Too much for you? I thought you were a rebel." Aano leaned back, spreading his massive thighs, the fabric of his tactical pants stretched tight across his growing bulge.
I licked my suddenly dry lips. "I didn't say it was too much."
"No?" One dark blue eyebrow arched. "Princess wants to play slut, but gets shy when someone calls her bluff?"
The challenge in his voice ignited something defiant in me. "I'm not bluffing."
His eyes raked over me, lingering on the bodice of my dress where skin peeked through. "Show me this isn't just talk."
"Here?" I glanced around. Our corner was secluded, the privacy screens blocking direct sight lines, but we were still technically in public. "There are people—"
"Scared?" Aano's smile was slow and dangerous.
My cheeks burned, not with embarrassment but with a strange cocktail of indignation and arousal. "You're good at this."
"At what?"
"Pushing buttons." I leaned forward, bracing my hands on the edge of the bench.
"You paid a lot for this date. Surely you hoped for more than a dinner. And the man up on stage said all you need is my permission. You have it."
"Pretty presumptuous," I murmured, standing slowly. "Maybe I believe in the cause.”
He snorted. “If you cared about the cause, you could have donated directly. You, my dear, want to fuck a Tholkon. Don't lie.”
“What if I just want conversation?"
Aano's laugh was a deep rumble. "Princess, nobody pays that much for conversation. Especially not someone entering her... what was it? Slut era?"
I stood before him, heart racing with a blend of nerves and exhilaration. Part of me couldn't believe what I was considering, but a larger part—the part tired of playing by everyone else's rules—was already reaching for the hidden zipper at the back of my dress.
I held his gaze as I slowly pulled the zipper down.
His eyes widened fractionally, pupils dilating. "What are you doing?"
"Proving I'm not bluffing." The zipper reached the base of my spine, and I felt the dress loosen around me. "Unless you're the one who's all talk?"