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A date? A real, proper date?
My eyes drifted to Cleb, who sat happily picking at a cinnamon roll with his fingers. He swung his legs back and forth, glancing between the two of us.
I wondered what he was thinking.
“I’m supposed to watch over Cleb,” I said.
“I can find someone to watch him for tonight,” Traes said. “I’m sure Waev or the servants can take care of him for a couple of hours.”
“I’m not sure I have anything appropriate to wear,” I said.
“Then you can buy something this afternoon,” Traes said. “I don’t expect you to pay for it out of your earnings. These are expenses I’ll cover. Buy anything you think you need. Or buy nothing and use one of the dresses upstairs. You’d still be the most beautiful woman at the event.”
Cleb dropped something on the floor. He leaned over to pick it up.
Traes moved as quick as a flash. His hand was over mine. He stroked it gently.
“Come with me,” he said. “Please. I’m begging you.”
A shiver ran through me from head to toe. There was that spark between us again. Him asking me—no, pleading with me—to give him what he wanted.
And he wanted a lot. Last night took every ounce of energy I had. I got the distinct impression that in the future he would demand even more.
I was very willing to give it.
Cleb sat up again and Traes withdrew his hand. Not far—just a few inches from mine. I wished I could reach out and take his, wished we could act out our impulses.
I shaded at the idea of the servants being forced to watch us having sex on the dining table.
Or maybe he would enjoy that too.
I cleared my throat.
“Sure,” I said. “That would be… fun.”
“Excellent,” Traes said, clapping his hands. “I’ll inform the host I’ll be bringing a guest. I’ll let you guys get on with your breakfast and the rest of your day.”
He got up and left the table.
My eyes drifted over to his magnificent ass as it took the rest of him out of the room. I stared but pretended I wasn’t. It was a victimless crime and Cleb would never notice—
“Are you all right?” Cleb said.
He looked at me, head cocked to one side, genuinely concerned.
“You look far away,” he said.
Not far. Just a few hundred yards upstairs…
“Let’s finish breakfast and do some studying,” I said. “I seem to remember you wanted to learn about rocks and soil today.”
Cleb, invigorated with his new favorite subject, ate quickly.
I blew the steam off my coffee and sipped at it. I peered over the edge of the cup, distracted and lost in my own little world, replaying the events of last night.
Mercy, Mercy me.
The one-way ticket price to Earth, in a pod, cost just over a thousand credits. I was pleased with my math—it really was my worst subject. Eleven hundred credits, to be precise. But I managed to haggle the ticket officer down to a cool thousand. He made a note in his system about the discount and let his eyes drift down to admire my lips.
