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“It is.” I knew if anyone could get that kind of tech for me in a hurry, it would be Dravik. “What’s this going to cost me?”
With a laugh, he rattles off a number that has my ass puckering.
“But for you, my friend,” he grins, showing a mouth filled with sharp teeth, “since this is for such a noble cause, I’m willing to waive my fee as long as you make sure to put Kurrahstka down for good.”
“You can’t be serious,” I tip my head at him, completely taken by surprise at his unexpected generosity.
Dravik chuckles, “If anyone is wily enough to pull this off, it’s you. I’ll leave them at the Bruth space station. They’ll be under your name. Good luck, my friend.”
The hologram blinks out, and I deflate into my seat. That settles it. With the high end holo-tech, our plan is set into motion.
“Are you sure he can be trusted?” Zell asks when the silence stretches past the point of comfort.
“About as much as anyone,” I reply with a shrug.
Dravik isn’t the type to double-cross a client. He’s honest in that regard, despite his dealings in less than savory and outright illegal channels.
“Will this really work?” Shae asks.
“Not so certain, little human?” I snort. “Having second thoughts?”
She scrunches her tiny nose up, making wrinkles appear across the narrow bridge. “No. But I’d like to be prepared for any flaws we might run into.”
My brave female.
I push myself back up in my seat and lean across the table. “The tech Dravik has is special military grade. If there is a failure, it won’t be the tech’s fault.”
“So, in other words,” she narrows her dark eyes at me, “don’t fuck this up.”
I can’t help giving her a crooked smile. “That goes for both of us.”
Some of the tension in her shoulders releases, and she almost smiles back.
“Are you ready for this?” I ask her. “Do you understand exactly what we’ll be going into?”
She lifts one shoulder.
“It’s a gathering for guests with a certain… lasciviousness,” I breathe. “It’s for guests to… partake in certain appetites that may not otherwise be available to them and for couples who like toshare.”
She nods, even as her face pales a shade, just enough to bring out the flush creeping up her long throat to stain her cheeks. We’ve discussed this before. The things she might see. What will be expected of us.
“How does that make you feel?” I ask. “Knowing you’ll have strangers lusting over you? Wanting you. Feeling entitled to you, simply because you are present.” Her throat convulses around her swallow reflex, and I keep going. “And what about me? You’ll be trapped with me, while surrounded by all of that.”
Her eyes drop to the table where her fingers are twined together in front of her. “Is that mandatory?” her voice comes out husky. Throaty. Sexy as fuck!
“Is what mandatory?”
“Participating.” Her eyes lift to meet mine again.
My lips part, and I flash my fangs at her. “What would you suggest as an alternative?”
She swallows again but keeps eye contact. “Watching?”
The word is soft, barely a whisper, and her cheeks flush a darker pink.
“Watching?” An image flashes through my mind of her watching a sea of writhing bodies, her pink lips parted and panting, her eyes heavy-lidded with lust as she works one of her hands between her legs. I bite back a groan as blood rushes to my cock.
“Yes,” she nods once, “maybe I like to watch. No touching. Would that—do you think that would be acceptable?”
