Chapter 3 #2
The young man—human, with the tired eyes of someone who'd seen too much at these events—followed my gesture toward Ruth's pasta-covered face and sighed.
"Mrs. Blackwell again?" he asked, not sounding particularly surprised.
"She's alive," I assured him. "Just... sleeping."
"Third year in a row," he muttered, touching his communication device. "We'll take care of her. She has a suite reserved upstairs." He gave me an apologetic look. "You're free to go, sir. Your obligation is fulfilled once she's... incapacitated."
I raised an eyebrow. "This happens often?"
The staff member's professional mask slipped for just a moment. "Mrs. Blackwell donates eight figures annually. We've learned to accommodate her... enthusiasm." He paused. "Though she usually makes it to dessert before passing out."
I glanced back at Ruth, who was snoring contentedly in her pasta, secretly glad I’d gotten out of stripping, though there was something admirable about her commitment to enjoying life, even at her age.
"Good luck," I offered, slipping past him and into the central dining room. My tail unwound from its tense position, relaxing into a gentle curve that followed my spine.
I moved with practiced nonchalance, just another exotic bachelor taking a breather from the excitement.
Each alcove had privacy screens, but many were partially open, offering glimpses of wealthy patrons with their purchased companions.
A Chokreini woman feeding canapés to a nervous-looking human male.
An Aikkoan couple was sharing their "date" with a young Zangrel who looked both terrified and thrilled.
The next alcove had its screen drawn shut, but I caught Aano's distinctive rumbling laugh from within.
Bingo. I paused, debating the protocol. A breathy moan from inside decided for me.
I slid the door open just enough to peer inside, prepared to make a tactical retreat if necessary.
Instead, I froze, my tail going rigid with surprise.
Aano—all seven-plus feet of blue Tholkon muscle—sat sprawled on a plush seat with a stunning human female straddling his lap.
And "nearly naked" was a generous description.
Her gown had been unzipped and was thrown over a chair, and her bra was pushed down to reveal perfect breasts that Aano was appreciating with his massive hands.
Her head was thrown back, pink-streaked hair cascading down her spine as Aano's mouth worked at her neck.
What the hell? He was supposed to be working on our exit strategy, not fucking some heiress.
I should have backed away. Should have closed the door.
Instead, I stood transfixed, my body betraying me with an immediate rush of heat.
My tail uncurled from its rigid position, the tip beginning to sway in a motion that would be unmistakable to anyone familiar with Araced physiology. Arousal, plain and simple.
"Seems I'm interrupting," I managed, my voice coming out huskier than intended.
The woman yelped, spinning in Aano's lap to face me while frantically covering her breasts with her arms. Aano, the unflappable jackass, simply tightened his grip on her nearly bare ass and hauled her closer, as though I'd merely commented on the weather.
"Not interrupting," Aano rumbled, his eyes meeting mine with unmistakable heat. "Just in time. She's entering her slut era."
My tail twitched in response, the tip flicking upward in a gesture that the human wouldn't understand but that made Aano's lips curl into a knowing smile.
Damn him and his ability to read me so easily.
I'd never liked Aano, and I definitely didn't trust his leadership.
He was impulsive, brash, and—I glanced down at the girl in his lap—way too fucking horny.
"Leah," Aano continued smoothly, "this is my… good friend, Yahn." The way he caressed my name made it sound like something filthy. "Yahn, this is Leah Sheffield."
The woman—Leah—was regaining her composure, though her cheeks remained flushed. Now that I could see her face, I realized she was extraordinarily beautiful, with pink cheeks, a heart-shaped face, and wide, beguiling blue eyes that assessed me with growing interest rather than embarrassment.
"Your... friend?" she asked, her voice breathy and amused.
"We are very close," Aano lied, his hands still possessively cupping her ass.
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms to project casual confidence while my mind raced through possible scenarios. Was this a strategic move on Aano's part? Or had he genuinely been caught up in the moment with this woman? Her last name—Sheffield—tugged at my memory.
"And does your friend usually walk in on you when you're... busy?" Leah asked, her initial shock giving way to something more playful as she relaxed her arms, no longer quite so concerned with covering herself.