Wrage (Galaxy Gladiators #11) - Alana Khan Page 0,10

but in a sexy slow gyration that telegraphs to any interested party just how good they’d be in bed.

I tear my glance from him and inspect the splatters I left on the white tablecloth as I hungrily devoured my meal. I hadn’t realized how famished I was until I looked up and noticed my plate was empty and his was still half full.

I shouldn’t look at him. He’s too sexy. I’m supposed to hate him. If he hadn’t bought me we’d never be in this predicament. I should resent him, not be thinking about how good he’d be between the sheets.

He finishes to wild applause. As I glance around the room, if the females weren’t aliens, and we were on Earth instead of Paragon, I’d be expecting the women to throw their panties and room keys at him as if he was Tom Jones or Justin Timberlake.

“Elyse! Come sing this duet,” he calls from the stage. He keeps motioning me up, now to the accompaniment of applause, until I join him.

I’ve always felt confident about my singing abilities, but after hearing him, I feel like an amateur.

The tech guy touches something to the skin above my translator implant and the words play in my ear so I can easily sing along. The tune is predictable, so within a few lines I’m singing in time with Wrage and the music.

Halfway through the song, a love song ala Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers, he takes my hand. It’s the first time we’ve touched, and I feel an electric jolt zing through me. Not an electric chair kind of jolt, but a punch of energy. Sexual energy.

What have I gotten myself into? If I was back on Earth I’d wonder if I’d been roofied. My nipples are pricked and my core feels aching and empty. The beginnings of need are insistently making themselves known.

When I pull my eyes from him—no small feat—I see my hard nipples poking at the fabric of my dress.

One of the crappiest things about outer space? Most aliens can smell female arousal. Shit! Those buttons on his face that he said enhance his sense of smell? I don’t care how many cooking odors permeate this room, I’m certain he smells me.

I’ll give him credit, he carries on as if he’s been doing this for years, the consummate performer. I may look like a lovesick ingénue for all the room to see, but he’s following the old adage that the show must go on.

After the interminable song is over, there must have been a hundred verses, he gently grabs the tips of my fingers and escorts me to our table.

“I half expected you to heckle me,” he says as if nothing just happened on that stage but two people singing.

“Changed my mind. I’m not that mean.”

“I’m apologizing one more time, Elyse,” his voice is deep and warm and oh-so-sincere.

He spears me with those odd, eerie, totally beautiful alien eyes. They’re golden-green with vertical pupils. Until a few moments ago, they scared me with their intensity. Now they just beckon me with their heat.

I hate to admit to myself how much I want him right now.

“Apology finally accepted. Though no more havaché for you.”

“Agreed.”

His gaze flicks from my eyes to my lips and back to my eyes. Perhaps it’s because he’s attracted, maybe it’s because we’re mated and Analac expects us to comingle our fluids in the next few days, or possibly it’s that the scent of my arousal must be blasting at him, but he’s definitely giving me the vibe that he’d get naked with me in a heartbeat.

The comm on his wrist must vibrate, because he glances at it.

“Is it from Captain Zar?” I ask anxiously. “Will he let me come with you on the ship?”

I’ve decided this is what I want. It sounds safer than being on my own with Wrage on this or any other planet. Maybe the other human women will act as a buffer.

“No, it’s not from Zar, but we should get back to our hotel. My brother gladiators reminded me we have a big day tomorrow.”

He stands and offers his hand to help me. I rise on the other side of the table. I need to keep his hands off me for as long as possible.

Two hours later, I’ve showered and am wearing a nightgown I bought on the trip home. He didn’t bitch at all about buying me the beginnings of a new wardrobe. In fact, he was generous. Something I certainly didn’t