by Brenna Lyons
“You’re all wet. I think you should remove your shirt.”
He smiled at that and started to work the buttons open.
****
Sandy set her food aside, full nearly to discomfort. Arren smiled and tipped his chopsticks to her, chewing a bit of sashimi.
She ranged her gaze over his body. He was still shirtless, and after the guards had brought up the food and other packages, he’d removed his shoes and socks as well. Sandy licked her lips, considering what lay beneath his trousers. Unless the previous day was an anomaly, the trousers were the only thing he was wearing.
Arren went still. He turned his head, staring at her, the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunching as if he was preparing to pounce.
On me. The thought delighted her.
He leaned to her, brushing his lips across hers. Sandy cupped his face in her hands, tilting her head to open her mouth to his fully.
The kiss was full of promise and heat, and a heartbeat later, Sandy was in Arren’s lap. She untied the robe and pulled the sides apart.
He left the kiss, shaking his head. “Somewhere we can move freely,” he grumbled.
Arren stood, lifting Sandy with him. Just when she thought he was going to place her on the desk, he rounded it and went to the couch instead.
Their lips parted, as he deposited her carefully on it. He stood next to the piece of furniture, working at the button and zipper on his trousers. He let them fall, confirming that commando was his usual state of dress.
Sandy eased the robe off her shoulders, leaving herself nude. His gaze scorched her senses, moving from her feet to her face and down again.
Arren ripped open a condom without looking down at it and rolled it down the length of his cock. In a heartbeat, he was between her ankles, spreading Sandy’s legs around him. Then she was upright, in his hands, poised over the head of his cock. He lowered her onto him slowly, stretching her around his girth.
She grasped at his shoulders, her body on fire. One thrust led to another and a third. Sandy held to him, her head swimming in pleasure. Stars, but she’d never felt like this before.
The pressure built in her, coming to a keen edge before she pitched into the abyss. Arren followed her over, his muscles tensing. A growl escaped his lips.
They held to each other, breathing hard. Sandy settled her head to his chest.
“You are so beautiful,” Arren complimented her.
She shivered in the memory of Jason, when she told him it was over. Every word out of his mouth had been the opposite of that compliment. Jason’s words had been ugly.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. Just…bad memories.”
His lips caressed her forehead. “The man who hurt you?” he guessed.
“Yes.” She managed a smile that felt brittle. “But I don’t want to think about him.”
“I agree.” His voice went gruff. Before she could question him, Arren continued. “There are so many better things we could think of.”
Sandy pushed back a bit and looked up at him. “Like?”
“There are still a few places in your apartment I haven’t managed to make love to you yet.”
He was teasing, but her heart rate picked up at the comment. “That is a much better thing to think about. Or to do.”
His smile told her she’d made the right choice.
Chapter Eleven
Six days later
Sandy hooked her purse over her shoulder and headed for the elevator, her heart light. After her fall in the rain, Arren had all-but demanded to have a car available for her at the end of her work day.
He’d tried to insist on a driver for all her needs, but she’d balked at that extravagance. Unless she had errands to run for work or herself, there really wasn’t much for the driver to do. Why pay someone full time wages or more to sit around and wait for Sandy to find some work for him?
She’d halfway expected that Arren would try to offer her a car and city parking for it instead. Perhaps even he realized that would be too much, considering they didn’t know where their relationship was going from here.
She punched the call button and smoothed her jacket, hoping she looked passable for an evening out.
Or in. Sex with Arren was fast becoming an addiction. Sandy found herself daydreaming far too often for her sanity or comfort.
The elevator opened, and she hurried aboard. The way down seemed to take far too long, and she realized she was already anticipating seeing Arren.
I am hopeless. He was sending a car for her. Arren wasn’t picking her up himself. It might be half an hour or more before she saw him, and she was already wet and ready.
And I’m early. She sighed. It would be even longer until she saw Arren, since she’d worked through lunch. The driver wouldn’t be there for the pickup until five, and it was only four fifteen. Sandy made a mental note to get the driver’s direct number, so she could let the man know if she would be early or late for his usual pick-up.
The elevator doors opened, and she headed for the front doors. The building had a small garden at every door, and it would be a nice place to pass the time until the driver arrived.
Again, Sandy cursed herself for not thinking to get the driver’s number. If she had it, she could just call him and let him know she’d be taking the subway over to Spice Industries today.
Maybe I could get the number from Betty. That was even more ridiculous. Sandy knew from experience that the last thing a secretary wanted was someone calling with nitpicky little questions they could have answered for themselves. Oh well. It’s a nice day, and sitting in the garden won’t be a hardship.
That thought came to a screeching halt at the sight of Arren’s hired driver vaulting from the car and rounding it to the passenger door.
She went to his side, taking his offered hand. Sandy slid into the car, and he closed her in.
The driver took his place again. “Where to, Ms. Butler?”
Now that he’d mentioned it, she wasn’t sure. “I don’t know. Arren won’t be finished with work for a while. Maybe you should just drop me at home, and he can meet me there later?” It wasn’t the way she’d wanted to unveil her surprise for him, but it would have to do.
“Just a moment.”
“Of course.”
He opened a cell phone and spoke in Xxan into it. After a moment, he nodded and shut the phone. He pocketed it. “Arren is ready to leave now. I can take you to the Spice Tower and leave you in Arren’s care.”
“Yes. Please.” This was much more like it. Sandy knew how she wanted to reveal her surprise to Arren.
It didn’t take them long to reach Spice Tower. The driver pulled into the garage, through a blast door, and down into a nearly-deserted area in the garage.
“Arren’s parking area?” she asked.
The driver nodded.
Arren appeared from an elevator. He came to her door and opened it for her. “Thank you, Beel. That will be all for today.”
The driver tipped his head. “Have a good evening.”
“We will,” Sandy answered. Her cheeks heated at saying something so bold in front of another Xxanian male. She didn’t even know if he was mated. What if he wasn’t?
Arren laughed and swung the door shut. Beel left them there.
He leaned down and laid a kiss on her lips. “So, where do you want to go for dinner?”
“Let’s go to your apartment.” That’s what she’d planned all along. Sandy reached out and touched his cock, needing him. And I will have him.
****
Arren shivered at the stroking of her fingers along the line of his primary. “You do need to eat,” he reminded her.
“Later.”
The promise of more was all the enticement he needed. Arren took her arm and led Sandy toward his coupe. “That’s good. I wanted to take you to the penthouse. I have a surprise for you.”
“I have a surprise for you too.” There was something smug in that, something he couldn’t ide
ntify.
“Let’s go. We can get dinner later.”
“I agree.”
He helped her into the passenger seat, then took his own. By the time he was settled, she’d removed her suit jacket and deposited it and her purse on the floor. He darkened the windows and took off his glasses, just in case that was a sign she’d intended for him to pick up on.
They were halfway to the penthouse before he spoke again. “You really have a surprise for me?”
“I do.”
He ranged his gaze up and down her body, postulating on what it might be. “Please tell me you’re wearing some really interesting underclothes.”
Sandy chuckled and leaned closer to him. “I’m not wearing any.”
His primary came fully erect, and he ached to find out if she was telling him the truth. “Is that your surprise?”
“No.” She opened a button on her blouse. “Do you want to see?”
Arren licked his lips. “You know I do.”
Keeping his attention on the road was difficult. Button after button slid open, and Sandy’s pupils dilated in arousal. Her scent was sublime. Sandy spread her blouse, showing him her bare breasts.
Memories of their first day together made his mouth water. “Do you want me to eat you in the car again, Sandy?”
She pulled the blouse off and dropped it on top of her jacket. “I want you to eat me, but not in the car.”
A glance at her, wearing her skirt and stiletto heels…and reportedly nothing else, made his primary jerk against his trousers. “If you walk into my home dressed that way, I will eat you wherever you wish. However you wish.”
She opened the car door and stepped out. “You’d better,” she teased.
Arren followed her, his cock complaining at the wait. Just a little longer. Just until we get to my surprise.
In the elevator, Sandy started undoing buttons on his shirt. Holding still and letting her do it took all his self-control. When she had it opened, Arren shucked the shirt off and let it fall.
The elevator door opened, and Arren guided her off of it. “So… Where am I going to be eating you?” he asked.
Sandy smiled. “The bathroom, I suppose.”
He tried to make sense of the request.
She rose on tiptoe and nibbled at his chin. “The mirror.”
“Then maybe I should show you my surprise.”
Her eyes lit in interest. “Maybe you should.”
Arren led her to the bedside.
Sandy looked around the room. “I don’t see anything different.”
He reached to the side of the bedside table closest to the bed and pressed the button. Sandy’s gaze snapped from the button to the ceiling at the sound of the panel moving aside.
Her eyes went wide, and she gaped at the sight of the mirror above the bed appearing from behind the panel. Her scent took on a potent edge.
“I take it the bed is acceptable for whatever you have planned?” he teased.
“Oh yes, it is. It’s perfect, Arren.”
It was the thing every Xxanian male lived to hear. Making his female happy with him was a dream come true.
“I can just picture it…all those golden curls between my legs.” A tremor of what he hoped was anticipation worked down her body.
Arren bit back a grimace at her description of his hair. It was so fine, he didn’t dare cut the curls off, lest he look like a toddler who hadn’t grown in adult hair yet. Still, he’d always felt the curls were too feminine. Oddly, his seir seemed fond of them, for some reason Arren couldn’t begin to fathom.
And it doesn’t matter. Clearly, Sandy likes my hair this way. If she likes it, it stays. Forever.
Or as long as she is my woman. Losing her might well convince him to shave his head in despair.
Sandy stared at the mirror, lost in whatever daydreams and plans it engendered in her.
Curiosity ate at him; Arren had no clue what her surprise for him was, and he wanted to know. He needed to. “Sandy?”
She snapped her gaze to him, seemingly dazed.
“Your surprise?” he hinted.
Her cheeks went an enticing shade of red. She worked the button and zipper on her skirt open.
That made no sense to Arren. She said she wasn’t wearing panties, so it couldn’t be that. What else could lay beneath her skirt?
He wondered if she’d gotten a tattoo, but he dismissed it immediately. Why would she think such a thing would be for him? No Xxanian male would ask his female to endure such useless pain for his enjoyment.
She dropped the skirt and stepped out of it daintily.
It took a moment for what he was seeing to make sense. Arren trailed his fingertips over her bare mound, at a loss for words.
“I shaved for you.”
But why had she? “You do not have to make yourself like a Xxanian female to be enticing to me,” he breathed. Still, the sight of her hairless mound was strangely appealing to him. His mouth watered to taste her.
“Obviously. But…” She shifted closer to his hand, her scent intensifying in her arousal. Her nipples came to hard points that begged for his attention.
“But?”
“I’ve heard it makes a woman more sensitive. I wanted to test that rumor.”
“Then we shall.”
Arren lifted Sandy by the waist and laid her in the middle of the bed, centered beneath the mirror on the ceiling. He kicked off his shoes, climbed between her ankles, and forced her legs wide with his.
She looked up at him, her breathing already ragged. “Arren?”
He sank over her, tasting every millimeter of her outside before he thrust his tongue inside her. Sandy’s moans deepened, and she closed a hand in his hair, drawing him closer to her body.
“Oh, yes. Stars burn, yes. This is perfect.”
He didn’t doubt that she meant both the mirror image of them and what he was doing to her.
The clenching of her sheath stole his breath, and her full climax followed close on its heels. Arren grinned, pleased with her sounds and her heightened taste.
“The rumors were true?” he asked.
“They certainly are with you.”
Arren took pride in her praise. “We should continue to test that.”
“What —?”
She gasped in surprise as he started eating her again.
Enjoy, Sandy. We have as much time as you grant me to enjoy the mirror in every possible way it can be used.
Chapter Twelve
Three weeks later
The restaurant was dimly lit, and plants grew in planters and hanging pots everywhere. It took a moment for the significance to hit her.
A Xxanian restaurant. She nibbled at her lower lip, uncertain what was required in such an establishment.
Two men rounded her, went to the side of the carpeted foyer, and removed their shoes.
Lesson one. Remove your shoes before passing through this room. Sandy hurried to comply, trying to keep the two men in her sights to use for more cues.
They approached the desk, spoke to the human maître d’ in what she was sure was the Xxanian language, and shook hands with him before following the server to their table.
Sandy took a calming breath and approached. She couldn’t speak Xxan, but she could offer her hand and tell the man why she was here.
The maître d’ looked up, his smile of welcome fading at the sight of her. His gaze panned down her body and froze at her feet. “May I help you, miss?” he offered in a voice that said he was welcoming her, when his expression countered it.
Something told her not to offer her hand. “I am here to meet Arren Raashh.”
His next glance at her feet said she’d done something wrong. His cheeks darkened, and he cleared his throat.
“I saw the men before me removing theirs and—”
“It is a female’s choice to remove her shoes or not, miss. If you would rather not, I will wait to show you in, of course.”
“No. It’s comfortable. If
it’s not a problem, I believe I’ll leave them off.”
He tipped his head. “Yes, miss. Of course.” With that, he waved for a server and spoke to the man in Xxan.
The Xxanian server slanted a glance at her feet, and the maître d’ snapped a command that had him stiffening and looking to the far side of the room. With a quick tip of his head, he hurried away.
Sandy squirmed in place. “If it’s a problem—”
“Not at all, miss,” the maître d’ replied gracefully. “We have two empty private dining chambers this evening. It is not an imposition at all.”
Private dining chamber? What the blazes is he talking about? She glanced at the two men in the main dining room, wondering what was causing the stir developing.
****
“If you would, sir?”
Arren looked up at the waiter, confused by the request for him to leave the table. “I beg your pardon.”
The Subdominant switched to Xxan for his reply. “Your female guest has indicated her wish for a private dining chamber, sir. Please accompany me, so you can escort her in properly.”
His shock was so profound that Arren hesitated a moment before complying. His cock was hard beneath the layers of human clothing, and he fastened his suit jacket for the sake of propriety.
The Subdominant motioned for another to clear their table and ready the private chamber, then he led Arren toward the maître d’s desk.
One look at Sandy confirmed that she had no idea what was going on. She shifted from nylon-covered foot to foot, her color high. At the sight of him, she managed a weak smile.
Arren slanted a nod her direction and addressed the maître d’. “I presume you did not tell her what bare feet meant?”
“Certainly not, sir.” He was understandably affronted by the suggestion. “Do you believe it wise to—”
“No. Set up the private dining chamber, and she will make that decision for herself, once she understands it.”
“Is there a problem, Arren?” Sandy asked.
“No. Just a slight change in plans.”
“If you’d rather have me wear my shoes—”
