Wrage (Galaxy Gladiators #11) - Alana Khan Page 0,34
“Better?”
“I’ll do you,” she says, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
“I shouldn’t have brought you here. I apologize. It was selfish.” I say as she ministers to my arm.
“Selfish?”
“I didn’t really believe, not in my heart, that my mother had changed enough to welcome me and my new mate back into her life. The female you met? She wasn’t new. That was the female I grew up with.”
“I guess we all hope for things we’ll never get. I still fantasize about going back to Earth. As we were approaching your house, I was imagining the homecoming I’d get.”
“I hope it was better than the one I received.”
“Yes, way better.” I pause, then decide it’s time to move forward. “Elkin said there were some costumes in the closet that others had left behind. Let’s see what we can rummage. Somehow I imagine the audience wants us wearing something nicer than wrinkled t-shirts.”
My gaze doesn’t leave her form as she flips through clothes in the closet. Perhaps it was our time in the malta, but she acts as if she doesn’t even know she’s naked. The curve of her ass makes me wish we had more time before our first set.
She laughs as she holds up a shirt with wide flowery sleeves so ruffled they look like wings.
“I hope that’s not the one you want to wear,” I say shaking my head and putting my hands in front of me as if for protection.
“I think this is for the male,” she says. “I think Desi wore this in an episode of I Love Lucy.”
“Keep looking.”
“It goes with this.” She shows me the matching dress. The flowers are huge and ugly, the dress will cover her from neck to ankles.
“Keep looking.”
“This?” she says, holding up a blue shimmery scrap of fabric. Even my cock strains, as if he wants a glimpse.
“I don’t know. You should try it on,” my voice is deep.
“You’re a horndog, Wrage,” she scolds as she steps into the dress.
“I have horns, but my race is not considered canine.”
“It means . . .” she shimmies into the tight dress. It’s a small, sparkly tube that barely covers her breasts on top and her bottom below.
Before she can finish her sentence, I urge, “Keep doing that until I tell you to stop.” Although I didn’t think for a moment she’d follow my order, she looks directly into my eyes, gives me her first genuine smile since we left our malta this morning, and wiggles.
Her hips shake slow and wide, her expression dares me to take her. Bounding from the bed, I pull her into my arms, press myself against her, and give her one long, lingering kiss.
“No time, little Elyse. Maybe tonight after our performance. That is, if we don’t fall asleep first.”
When I release her, she saunters to the closet and keeps flipping through the costumes.
“Looks like this is your costume,” she says, tossing me a piece of fabric that matches her dress. It’s much smaller than what she’s wearing.
“You want me to perform nude?” I must admit, this shocks me.
“We’d get great tips handsome, but no. I think you can wear your t-shirt and cargo pants. Just wear this as a tie and we’ll look like we belong together.”
“A mated pair,” I say, my gaze full of affection.
Chapter Seven
Elyse
We’re almost done with our final set. This is the most fun I’ve had since my abduction.
I’ve discovered a lot over the last few hours. First of all, he’s so freaking smart. How he learned and memorized all that material in such a short amount of time is mind-boggling. Second, it’s scary how well we mesh. Like . . . freaky.
A casual observer would think two things—that we’re in love, and that we’ve been together for a long time.
Our voices twine together effortlessly. For a male who insists he’s never had a singing lesson and has rarely sung, he understands the complexities of harmony like a pro. Even our bodies sync as we sing. It’s like we spent countless hours choreographing, yet we didn’t even discuss it.
“We’re almost done?” he asks, his lips pressed tight as if he’s disappointed.
“Last song.”
“Let’s do “Deepest Part of My Heart” again.” The look on that handsome alien face is so sincere, his gaze never leaving mine, how can I say no?
“Okay.”
I was never the world’s best piano player, but when I sang in high-end restaurants I brushed up my skills so I could accompany myself. That way I didn’t have to split my pay