Chapter 4

My steps are light and quick as I make my way up the short staircase and my body thrums with nervousness—or maybe it's anxiety. My muscles are tight with excess energy as I step up to the blue door that matches the plaque attached to the brass key in my surprisingly unsteady hand. Turning the antique relic over, my heart pounds in my chest as I slide the key into the lock. The mechanism turns easily, and the door swings inward on well-oiled hinges.

I step over the threshold into a dimly lit room, swathed in warm shades of reds, oranges, and purples. Bold patterns and textures adorn almost every surface, and a spicy scent lingers in the air. I'm so engrossed in taking in the details that I don't notice the female until she speaks up.

"Can I offer you a drink?"

My head swivels to where she's standing beside a small bar area. Her voice is rich and throaty. In one hand, she holds a crystal decanter filled with a clear liquid. In the other is a matching tumbler. Her wide eyes are focused on me, and if there is any recognition from earlier, I can't see it in her expression.

My heart skips a beat. She's even more beautiful up close. Much like the room, she's draped in colorful silk. Her smooth skin is a warm brown color. Her hair is dark and glossy as it spills around her shoulders in a silky curtain. Large, dark eyes framed with thick lashes blink back at me, and her lips are full and red. The corners are quirked up in amusement.

What did she just ask me? Oh right, a drink.

I nod.

"What would you like?" She points her chin to the bottles lined up on the small bar.

I point to the decanter she's holding.

"This is just water."

Perfect. I nod again.

One dark eyebrow lifts, and she gives me a sardonic look before she fills the tumbler and hands it over to me. I take it with a subtle nod of thanks, then she picks up another tumbler from the bar and fills it for herself.

She sets the decanter down and then lifts her glass toward mine. "Cheers."

My head cocks to the side, but I mimic her and hold my glass out as well.

I don't move as she gently taps her glass against mine, the quiet tink ringing in the otherwise quiet room, before bringing it to her lips to drink. Her eyes sparkle like jewels as she watches me over the lip.

"I saw you earlier, when I was shopping," she says after a moment. Her expression turns thoughtful, and then she adds, "You're not who I was expecting,"

I nod but can't help wondering who exactly she was expecting?

She takes another drink from her glass, and time stretches between us until finally her eyes drop to my untouched glass. "Are you gonna drink that?"

Without taking my eyes from her, I lift the glass and drain its contents. The water is cold and crisp on my tongue, flavorless and refreshing in the way water should be.

"You're not much of a talker, are you?" She takes my empty glass and sets it, and hers, back on the bar.

I lift my fingers to my throat, then I shake my head.

Her eyes widen. "Oh. You can't speak at all?"

I start to shake my head, but then pause. I can speak. In the oceans on my home world, I use water to pass through what would be vocal cords, making speech possible. Outside of the oxygen-rich waters of my home planet, it's much more difficult to achieve. Not impossible, though. Hard enough that I don't speak unless it's dire. Or unless I have a communicator, which I have never liked using.

"That's a look that says, ‘it's complicated." She cocks her hip out to the side and folds her arms loosely across her chest.

A smile touches my lips, and I nod.

"Fair enough. I'd like to know your name, though."

I'm surprised my name would matter to her. Most females have never shown any interest in me past my body and what it can do for them, which is fair enough since I'm often of the same mindset.

But not now. Not with this female.

I step toward her and don't miss the way she tenses, dropping her arms back to her sides, but she doesn't step back. When I'm directly in front of her, I lean down until my lips brush the small shell of her ear. This close, I can't help but breathe in her scent. It's light. Floral. Intoxicating.

"Shhhuvo," my name leaves my lips as a breath of moist, warm air. Softer than a whisper.

When I lean back, her eyes are on me, and her plump lips are parted. Tiny bumps erupt across the smooth skin of her neck and down her shoulder.

"Shuvo," she repeats. "That's your name?"

I nod, and my heart starts to beat faster when those lush lips spread into a lovely smile.

"Shuvo," she repeats, trying it out on her tongue. Gods help me, suddenly I can't wait to hear how it sounds when she's panting it. "I'm Nita."

Nita.It sounds exotic coming from her lips, not like when her friend said it. It's not a word that will be easy for me to say in my language, but I savor the way it tumbles in my mind. Nita.

Slowly, I press the palm of my hand to my chest to acknowledge her and bow without taking my eyes from hers.

Her cheeks start to change color, darkening slightly, and her expression turns coy. "So, is there anything you'd like to do first?"

My eyes dart behind her to where the sleeping platform takes up much of the room. I don't mean to zero in on it specifically; I meant to take in the entire room. The direction my gaze takes doesn't escape Nita's notice, and her eyes turn heavy. Her tongue slips from between her plump lips, and my cock twitches in my breeches.

Her hips sway with each step that brings her closer to me, and she places a palm against my chest, right over where mine was a moment ago. Her touch ignites my skin like fire. Dragging my gaze down her body, I slowly take in the gauzy robe she wears that doesn't quite close in the front, offering me a tempting stripe of brown flesh.

My hands ache to reach for her. It's easy to imagine how her rounded breasts will feel against my palms. The way her breath will catch as I slide my fingertips over her soft stomach, and lower, so I can cup her warm cunt. To feel how wet she is for me as I drag a finger through her silky folds before slipping inside her, where she'll grip me so perfectly.

She takes another step closer, so close, there is barely enough room for air between us, and I stand frozen as she slowly slides her hand up my chest. My shirt is open at the neck, and my throat bobs when she strokes a finger across the bared flesh. Her eyes slowly lift to mine, and this time when she smiles, I think my heart might explode in my chest.

"Alright then," her voice is low and husky. "Let's begin."