What a real thief looks like #SciFi by Kayelle Allen #MFRWhooks

Royal District, Royal Arms Hotel Suite 1221

NarrAy tipped the hotel android and tucked the note he'd delivered into the pocket of her robe. "Senth?" She walked back into the bedroom, heard water running, and poked her head inside the bathroom. Steam frosted the glass-enclosed shower. "Senth, honey, there's a--Whoa!"

Senth was pressed against the glass from his firm buttocks all the way up to his shoulders.

NarrAy gulped against a rush of pheromones. "Uh, there's a...a note."

"What?" Senth stepped away from the glass and came to the opening, both hands in his soapy hair. "I couldn't hear you, sweetie." Shampoo bubbles trickled down his upraised arms, onto his shoulders, and down across his chest. Senth's nose wriggled. He'd done that several times during the night, inhaling her scent.

It shot a tinge of warmth down her. NarrAy cast off her robe and stepped into the shower, right into Senth's slippery, soapy, slick, sexy, and open arms.

* * *

Senth initiated a prescheduled holophone link to Saint-Cyr from a conference room on the third floor of the hotel, far from NarrAy's presence. When a chime announced his Sen'dai was at last online, Senth stood.

Saint-Cyr's image sparkled into being before him.

Senth made a deep bow. "Good morning, Sen'dai."

"You're late." The Harbinger motioned with one hand. "Turn around, slowly. I want to look at you."

Senth obeyed.

"So this is what a thief looks like who thinks he's independent of his Sen'dai."

"Sir?"

"Don't play coy with me, Senthys." Saint-Cyr seated himself. The background of the room did not appear, nor the chair he used. His image floated. "Sit down. We need to talk."

"Yes, sir." He pulled a chair away from the table and plunked himself in it.

"And sit up straight."

Senth bristled, but he straightened in the chair.

"Now what is this about Ms. Jorlan not being satisfied?"

She had seemed satisfied when he'd left the room. Senth coughed to mask a grin. "We discovered that the item we recovered indicated there's a related item with more significance."

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."

Body to body closeness #SciFi by Kayelle Allen #MFRWhooks

All People's Liberation Army Ship Vandal Officers' Quarters

Though still carrying the marks of an Imperial Armada cruiser, the Vandal and its crew had switched sides. Senth followed NarrAy down a corridor painted dull gray. Far from the luxury of the sleepliner, this ship had been stripped to basic military starkness.

"Why is everything lit up with red?"

"It's on night ops. Red makes it easier for the eyes to adjust to darkness, and you can still distinguish everything." NarrAy opened a hatch, and stepped through into another corridor.

"We use red for night work in the Guild, too." Senth waited while NarrAy closed the hatch behind him, and then followed her again.

"Let's see, cabin number... Ah, here we are." She unlocked a door, and he followed her inside.

Encie and Broxus had brought Senth's and NarrAy's bagbots with them, and both bots waited in the room, inactive. The tiny cabin sported a chair, a drop-down desk, and a garment rack with a few cubbyholes under it. A mirror covered the back of the door. One bed--a double.

Senth's cheeks burned in remembrance of the last time he and NarrAy were alone near a bed.

NarrAy gestured around herself. "Like it? This is our room."

"We're...um...both in here?"

"Mmm hmm." NarrAy backed him against the door and set a hand on either side of his waist. "This cabin is for accompanied officers."

"A-accompanied?" Unsure where to put his hands, Senth put them behind him.

"Accompanied." She traced a finger across his chin. "Meaning with someone."

"Oh." His mind churned, fighting for intelligent words, but failed. All he could see was the bed. And NarrAy. Right there, up close, next to him, breathing the same air.

NarrAy put one of her feet between his and leaned against him. Body to body. All the way from his calves up to his waist. Even through his clothes, her warmth soaked into him. Her scent bloomed like warm sugar cookies coming fresh from the oven. Vanilla. Butter. Sugar.

Senth breathed her in, and the scent took him back to his childhood, but the touch of her, the warmth of her, rocked him down to the core as a man.

NarrAy pressed her fingers against his lips.

Senth held his breath as NarrAy watched the progress of her fingers. She drew them from his mouth to his chin, down the front of his throat, and stopped where his cloak fastened.