You robots can keep your shopping pleasure, thank you #SciFi #MFRWhooks

"Thank you for visiting Tarth City Mall," the robot crooned. "Your shopping pleasure is our only business. How may I increase your shopping pleasure?"

"I think we'll walk around." Mehfawni slipped her hand into Khyff's and turned away. "If we get lost, we'll come back."

Just past the directory was a kiosk labeled "Honey And Leather." Two human males, an Androg, two human females, and a young Tyran male were fastened to it by thin leashes attached to their wrists.

They must be slakes. She couldn't help but stare. None of them looked like whores, but the kiosk signs clearly stated their prices. A male turned and ogled Mehfawni, and the females stared at Khyff in frank appreciation. So did the Androg.

Her mind balked at the idea of Khyff being sold like that. His records said he'd "worked the streets" when he was fifteen, but by the time he'd been sixteen, he'd been "on call". They'd called it "marketing" him--selling his services to private individuals who could afford the finest.

Talk about shopping pleasure... She shuddered.

The thought of other females using Khyff made her jaws clamp tighter. How can I be jealous of something that happened to him years ago? Yet there the emotion was, in all its raw and angry power. If he'd been Kin, he'd have smelled it on her by now.

She slid the tips of her fingers into one of Khyff's rear pockets in a possessive gesture meant to discourage the slakes, who were still eyeing him. It didn't work.

"Let's go over there." She pointed off in another direction.

"Sure, Fawni. What do you want to see?"

She didn't want him thinking she was trying to buy him the way his clients had, but she still wanted to show others he was hers. An idea came to her, and she slid her tongue across her fangs. "What kind of jewelry shops do they have, t'hahr?"

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "What does t'hahr mean?"

"Oh, um..." The words had slipped out, but they were true. She rose on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "T'hahr is a love word in my language. It's Felis for my heart."

Beautiful bad boy #SciFi by Kayelle Allen #MFRWhooks #MFRWauthor

Mehfawni tapped Khyff nose and sat up. "I want to take you out to dinner. In Tarth City, surely there is always food ready somewhere."

"I know plenty of places." Alitus had told him to prepare to be spoiled. Kin females were accustomed to being in charge. Khyff hadn't mentioned he was used to women paying his way. They liked to flaunt him to their friends and display him like a new charm on their wrist bracelets. Look what I bought.

"Somewhere quiet." Mehfawni folded her legs, elbows on her knees. "I don't wish others to gawk at you when you're with me."

Again, the unexpected.

She gave a slight sniff. "Gawk is not the word? I know Etymis from classes."

"Gawk is correct. You speak Etymis flawlessly. Hardly an accent at all."

"I don't say b's right."

"Bees? Buzzing bees?"

She giggled. "Letter b's. We have no b in Felis."

"You say them fine."

"Not like humans."

"Say something b-ish."

"B-ish?" She wiggled her nose, sniffing. "This is a word?"

"Sure it is. I made it up."

Mehfawni laughed.

Khyff absorbed the sound of her voice as if it were water on the dry sponge of his soul. It filled him with joy until he thought he'd burst. Having her there beside him, laughing, enjoying time with him...he could scarcely take it in.

"B-ish. Hmm." She tapped a claw against her full lower lip. "Bed. Beautiful. Boy. Beautiful bad boy." Her hot gaze raked down him. "Beautiful bad boy in bed."

How odd that idBot never sees Luc #SciFi by Kayelle Allen #MFRWhooks

The façade fooled anyone who lacked entry codes.

Senth pressed his palm against the lock plate and the idBot security system scanned him. Locks clicked open.

Not a sound in the house, and when Senth checked the security panel, it showed the staff had gone for the day. No one home.

"Riiight." That reading meant the Man was here, because idBot never saw him no matter where he went. How he managed that was beyond Senth, but hey--the guy owned the company, right? Must be nice. Whatever this was about, Saint-Cyr wanted privacy for it, which couldn't be good for Senth.

He swept off his cloak and hung it on a peg. "Hi, Daddy, I'm home!"

Luc Saint-Cyr rounded the corner. Built like a towering god of war, his father filled the small entry.

Senth took a step back.

Saint-Cyr's impressive height forced Senth to look up in order to meet his gaze. Solid-black eyes made the black-skinned man resemble a giant bird of prey, and he had all the warmth of one.

"I am not Daddy, Senthys. We've discussed this." Saint-Cyr adjusted a white cuff on his dark business suit. "If you must use a familial term, use Father."

"Been thinking about changing it to Pops." Senth rocked on the balls of his feet.

His father about choked. Those black eyes narrowed. "You most certainly will not. I have asked you to--"

"Yeah," Senth interrupted. "And I've asked you to call me Senth. Not Senthys."

"Nicknames lack dignity."

"Father sounds like a priest. Which you aren't."

Saint-Cyr took one step closer.

It took all Senth's considerable will not to back up, look away or otherwise submit. How many people wilted before that black-eyed gaze? He swallowed, focusing on the reflections of light in the man's glassy stare.

If he held on for a few more seconds...