AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Now she stood face to face with them, shaking as the leshella’s effects waned before her terror.
The one who’d answered the door had shoulder-length black hair that was almost like a cloud with its frizzy texture. All that soft-looking cotton candy hair framed a face made of sharp angles, the bone structure finely cut. It wouldn’t have been a handsome face, except for the warmth that exuded from his expression and cat-pupiled eyes. The kindness in the Kalquorian’s features made him appealing.
As for the body covered in the clinging black formsuit the alien male wore...that was sheer perfection. Michaela’s mouth went dry at such blatant muscularity, the likes she’d never seen, except on Earther soldiers who’d been fed steroids. Even they couldn’t compare with the gorgeous, balanced physique of this man.
Israla’s smooth voice barely registered as Michaela looked at the masculine vision before her. “Good evening once again, Dramok Korkla. I’ve brought someone to meet you.”
Dramok. That means he’s the leader of the clan.It was one of the few things her brain spat out with clarity. The Kalquorian looked at her, his dazzling blue-purple eyes taking her in. Her, he looked at her. At Michaela, not the beautiful, powerful, and sexually adventurous Israla. How could he stare at her as if the Plasian didn’t exist?
He bowed once more, this time to Michaela. She was aware of the other two doing so as well. For the moment, her sight and hearing were all Korkla’s as he spoke.
“Matara Michaela, this is a pleasure. I can’t begin to express how much we enjoyed your dance tonight.”
By some miracle, she remembered how to talk. Her voice managed to be more than a whisper, though not by much. “Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.”
“Please come in.” Korkla and the other two stepped back to allow her entry.
When Michaela hesitated, Israla slipped an arm around her. The Saucin gave her a gentle but firm push towards the room beyond.
The leader of Plasius said loud enough for all to hear, “I have other duties to attend to. Take your time getting acquainted.” Then she leaned to whisper in Michaela’s ear.
“Do you smell that spicy scent?”
A sharp aroma teased Michaela’s nostrils. “Like cinnamon? Oh, I guess you don’t know what cinnamon is.”
Israla was content to know she had picked up the singular scent. “That’s the aroma of a Kalquorian’s arousal. They’re very interested in you.”
Before Michaela could absorb that nugget of information, Israla turned and swept away, leaving her alone with the three alien men. Michaela watched her go, her mouth hanging open. It occurred to her that running after the Saucin might be a good idea.
A large but gentle hand closed around Michaela’s upper arm and pulled her towards the clan’s quarters. Her brain sputtering like a dying engine, unable to think properly, she crossed the threshold. The door shut behind her. She stood in the room, alone with three big alien men.
Dramok Korkla waved his hand towards the huge lounger, a piece of furniture that resembled a plush sofa. “Please, sit down, Matara.”
One of the other men asked, “May I offer you a drink?”
Michaela’s pounding heart skipped a little as she took him. Only a couple inches shorter than Korkla, he smiled at her.
Oh wow. He’s more gorgeous than I remember.
“This is my Imdiko, Matara. His name is Govi,” Korkla said in his warm voice.
He would be the psychologist Israla had told her about. Govi was a shrink with perfect, masculine features, as stunning as a male could be. His face wasn’t angular like Korkla’s, nor cherubic like Michaela’s. He struck a perfect line down the middle, his jaw and dimpled chin strong without being stark. His cheekbones were well-formed without being haughty. His long black hair lay smooth as glass halfway to his chest.
What a chest it was, delineated beneath that body-hugging outfit they called a formsuit. The attire certainly suited Govi’s form. His body was just a shade less perfect than Korkla’s, a bit more elongated and slender. Not that Michaela would hold that against Govi. He was flat-out too stunning to be torn down by comparison.
“A drink, Matara?” The man’s soft voice roused her from her contemplation.
She blinked, trying to escape the spell of the man’s beauty. “Oh. I don’t know if I should. Israla already gave me some leshella. I may have had too much already.”
Yes, she’d blame her tongue-tied reaction to the handsome Kalquorian on the drink. It was as good an excuse as any to hang blunders on.
Govi smiled, and Michaela’s world tilted. As if he wasn’t handsome enough, he had to go and do that, increasing his appeal to the most ridiculous degree.
“Shel is a derivative of leshella, but not quite as potent. A small glass shouldn’t hurt.”
Stunned by the gorgeous man in front of her, Michaela mumbled, “Okay, I guess.”
While he fetched a glass into which he poured a light blue liquid, Korkla steered her to the mammoth lounger. Michaela perched on the edge of it. Her feet dangled a few inches from the flooring. Korkla sat next to her. He didn’t touch her, but he was close enough for her to feel his body heat and note the waft of cinnamon-like scent coming off him.
