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She flicked her waist-length, reddish-brown hair over her shoulder, a speculative glimmer in her amber eyes as Ravena and I complied. Just like in Anton’s office, dark-brown leather couches occupied the large sitting area with a dark wood coffee table in the middle. A large family portrait of Anton, Grace, and their three children occupied the center of the off-white wall facing us. Pictures of the children in various settings hung on each side of the portrait. Although heartwarming, it was an odd sight. According to Anton, posting family pictures was a common tradition among Terrans and many other species in the Western Quadrant. With Grace being human, she naturally observed that culture.
Ravena took a seat slightly off the center of the three-cushion couch, then leveled her obsidian eyes on me. Her position guaranteed I’d have no choice but to sit right next to her. Usually, males and females alike sought to put as much distance as possible between themselves and Braxians. Her boldness further fanned the burning attraction I felt towards her.
I settled by her side as she crossed her legs, the tip of her foot brushing against my calf. Grace perched herself on the arm of the chair across from us where her husband usually sat whenever he entertained me here. She, too, crossed her long, shapely legs made infinite by the short length of her red sarong draped in a halter dress style. Where Grace had pale, creamy skin like freshly fallen snow, Ravena’s was sun-kissed, like golden honey.
“I hope you’re both hungry,” Grace said, her amber eyes flicking between Ravena and me. “We’re taking you to Risqué, the fanciest restaurant on Venus Hive. I’d have taken you to Sade instead, but I wouldn’t want to shock the Magnar’s sensibilities. He’s a bit of a prude,” Grace added teasingly.
I frowned at her, and she grinned two rows of perfect, white teeth at me. The heavy weight of Ravena’s stare drew me. I faced her, and she held my gaze, unwaveringly.
“Are you?” she asked, daringly.
“I am not,” I said with a bit of a growl.
She raised a perfectly drawn brow with an expression halfway between dubious and mocking. “Are you sure? There’s no shame in being prim and proper.”
I leaned forward. “Do I look prim to you?”
She bit her bottom lip and gave me the most shameless once over. My shaft jerked in response, the blossoming scent of her arousal driving me to distraction. Despite her delicate bone structure, this female held an undeniable inner-strength that I found oddly appealing. Braxian women weretrainedfrom birth to be submissive—correction, to be subservient. I didn’t like the latter, but there was something undeniably erotic when a female, especially a strong-willed one, voluntarily yielded control and power to her man.
Ravena opened her mouth to answer, but her eye flicked towards Anton returning to the room. I groaned inwardly and straightened under Anton’s overly perceptive stare.
“What did I miss?” he asked, sitting in his usual chair.
He wrapped his muscular arm around Grace’s waist who was still seated on the arm of the chair. She leaned against him and kissed his forehead. The love between them always felt bittersweet to me. Grace reminded me of my Lissy, whose blood still stained my hands and ate away at my conscience. Had I been a stronger man, I’d have a hybrid son the same age as Anton. In many ways, Anton now filled that void in my heart.
“Ravik was trying to convince us that he wasn’t too prudish to go to Sade instead of Risqué,” Ravena said with false innocence.
Anton’s lips parted in shock as I turned to frown at Ravena. She batted her eyelashes at me. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to lay her across my lap and spank that delicious behind of hers or kiss her senseless. We’d only known each other a few minutes, and yet, she seemed perfectly at ease with me, and I with her. Aside from Grace and her infant daughter, I couldn’t remember the last female that had been playful with me. Besides Lissy…
I chased away the painful thought.
“We arenottaking you or the Magnar to Sade,” Anton said to me before casting a suspicious look at his wife.
Grace blushed prettily and fiddled with the hem of her dress.
“Why?” Ravena asked. “Is that place so terrible?”
Anton shook his head. “Not terrible at all, quite the contrary. But as implied by its name, it is a fetish club. The most luxurious you’ll ever get to set foot in and guaranteed to satisfy any kink or fantasy one may entertain. But it’s not exactly the type of place one brings distinguished guests such as yourselves. It would get… awkward, especially with my mate being an exhibitionist.”
“I see,” Ravena said, her eyes widening, although the spark within them seemed to say she wished to see even more.
“Anton,” Grace said reprovingly, her cheeks taking on a scarlet tinge.
He stared at her, unrepentant. “You shouldn’t have brought up Sade if you didn’t want to be outed.”
“I don’t think I like you very much right now,” Grace said, frowning at Anton.
Anton chuckled. “You don’t like me. Youloveme.”
They stared at each other, and Grace’s features softened. She leaned forward and kissed him. My chest tightened again, and I averted my eyes. Thankfully, they kept it brief. Grace hopped off the arm of the chair and affectionately ruffled Anton’s long, black hair.
“Come on, Ravena,” Grace said, “Let’s go get primped up. I’m getting hungry!”
Ravena unfolded her legs and rose to her feet, giving me a magnificent view of her perfect behind, tightly hugged by her black, leather dress. The light smirk on her lips when I looked up indicated she knew I’d been admiring her rear. My eyes remained glued to her as she strutted away, her hips swaying. Gorgeous though it was, I wished her long hair had been tied up to give me an unobstructed view of her delicious curves.
The minute she turned the corner, my eyes snapped towards Anton who was staring at me with intensity.
“Who the fuck is she?” I demanded.
