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When I open the sliding doors with a big smile on my face, I nearly keel over at first sight of them.
There on the padded bench seat is the spitting image of my beloved mate— hulking size, silver-haired, silver-eyed, even the same stark bone structure. I clutch the table as my palms go clammy.
“Do you think this one is sick?” the other male in the booth says. I lift my head to look at the speaker. It’s another Kar’Kali with cropped black hair and thick downward slashing brows. “What is wrong with you, female?”
I pick myself and stare at the silver-haired male. He blinks at me, probably concerned for my health.
“Are you in need of assistance?” he asks.
Even his voice…
“You just… look like someone I know,” I manage, clearing my throat. “I-I apologize for my rudeness. I came here to serve you, and I start fainting, huh? What a terrible waitress.”
“Indeed,” the dark-haired one agrees. “Does this restaurant force workers to attend their shifts while ill? If so, I demand to speak with your manager.”
“Please, Mori,” the silver one mutters. “There is no need to make a scene.”
“What? Health code violations are a serious matter,” the grouchy one called Mori insists. He bores his dark gaze into me. “Are you currently suffering an illness? If so, I refuse to be served by a sick person.”
“I’m not sick,” I assure him, panicking. The last thing I need is to screw up this one table I’ve been assigned. Banna will never accept my offer to help if a customer service disaster occurs every time I put on a uniform. “Like I said, your friend looks like someone I know, and it scared me. That’s all. Can I take your order?”
Mori squints at me. “He is unnaturally tall. So taking a fright at the sight of him seems plausible.”
“If you don’t mind my asking,” the other says, “who exactly do I look like?”
“No one…” I shake my head, forcing a laugh. “It was all in my head.”
“A male named Kallasiko, perhaps?”
I go stock still.
“I mean him no harm,” he says with widening eyes. He grabs my arm abruptly. “I’m looking for him.”
I can’t get a word out.
“Female, you must sit with us and tell me everything. I am Vallaki, and I’ve been looking for him. He’s my brother.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
KALLA
Every missionI conduct recently has involved more mouth-wagging than throat-slitting. And while I’m happy to be a less bloody male for the comfort of my mate and my friends, it’s starting to bore me to death. I was sent out to the Rathe System, a kingdom crawling with Azza sympathizers and pro-slavery rutheads that I’d love to send to an early grave. But what was I doing instead? Meeting with the military advisors to discuss how they could support us without anyone’s knowledge. Smooth talking is better left to males like Viro in my opinion, but my own weapons dealer contact helped forge the connection.
A delicate proposal was discussed—the monarchy would quietly increase their payments to the company with the understanding that the funding would be funneled to the Kar’Kali fleet. There would be no record of outright support, so that the Rathe System could maintain a façade of neutrality.
I’m not sure it will come to fruition, but my job is only to relay the conversation we had to Mak so he can choose.
There’s good reason to hesitate when putting your trust in a weapons dealer.
When I return to the ship, I blow out a breath of exhaustion. This deal-brokering nonsense is more draining than a straightforward seek-and-destroy. But if the Rathe monarchy is wavering on neutrality, it means the scales are slowly tipping in our favor.
One step closer to returning to my little flame. I rest my eyes in the pilot’s seat, picturing her as I often do. I visualize her puttering around that country village, toting a basket of food, climbing into her skimmer. But suddenly, my wholesome image of her is naked. Well, that’s bound to happen in my mind. Kaye is no longer laughing in slow motion in a field, but rather writhing with her head thrown back on silky sheets. Those pillowy breasts are heaving, and she’s crying my name…
It’s as good a time as any to privately relieve my sexual desire for her. My hand and cock have been more acquainted than they were before I was mated these days. I keep my eyes shut, letting my hands drift down gently enough to imagine it might be her tentative, feminine motions. I haven’t had a single orgasm since I left her that didn’t involve vivid, pornographic imaginings of her body, her sweet begging, and her warm embrace.
I jerk to attention at the sound of someone entering my ship. Glad that I didn’t make it any further in my fantasy, I clear my throat and cross my legs to hide my half-hard cock.
“What is it?” I ask as Kira nervously pokes his head in. No one usually bothers to greet me on the deck, so I’m on edge immediately.
