The old man tilted his head, studying him. "Perhaps that is true. So then, I have one last warning for you. Do not let the human females distract you. Learn from your father's failure in choosing an unworthy human mate. Use them for their bodies. Do not connect with their minds."
He swallowed down the insult to his mother. It wasn't the first time he'd heard such disrespect. "My father has already said-"
"But if you make the wrong choice, I will be the first to let your father know of his son's failures. And if you show yourself to be weak, you will not remain here."
Liam growled. "I am not weak."
The old man stood, moving surprisingly rapidly for a male of his age. "We shall see."
Liam watched him go, considering his situation. His father had no need to bring on the old professor as a spy. He had no intention of growing attached to a female. He'd be a fool to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.
Rising, he picked one of the papers he'd been given off the painfully white countertop of the kitchen. The map showed where he could keep his live ship. The StarFlight Academy had made a small space near the garden, having learned a long time ago that live ships could not be kept in a spaceship dock. They didn't enjoy the noise and the lack of nature. Such things could make them shrink in size, or worse, grow ill.
Just the thought of his ship made him speed back down to the shipyard.
Once there, he pressed his palm to the outside of Zenon. He felt a slight vibration, the ship's acknowledgement of him, and the door swung open. Inside, he touched the control panel and the vessel slowly rose. He gazed out at the twenty-foot wall surrounding the expansive academy grounds, and to the cleared space around it where a dozen turrets pointed threateningly at the skies. Beyond that, a deep jungle separated the academy from the nearest city.
He steered Zenon over the gardens in the back of the massive building. For a minute, he frowned. There was an odd, short building tucked in one corner, covered in vines. A memory ticked at the back of his thoughts, the campus pub. They'd been told about it in orientation.
When you want to get drunk, relax, and party, don't go into the town. Recruits have a tendency to get hurt, or even killed, on their way back here. The Wet Whistle is on campus, so students can have a little fun in a safe way.
Tonight will be the first of many nights there.
It didn't look like much, but he shrugged. He really didn't require much in a place to drink.
A small expansion of gardens separated Zenon's new home and the bar. Not the best spot, but certainly not the worst. He set his vessel down and stared out at the gardens.
Now to shower and prepare for the celebration.
All the better to bed Hannah Clark, a tiny voice whispered in the back of his mind.
He almost smiled. There was nothing a Keltair liked better than to beat a worthy opponent, and he suspected she would not disappoint.
Chapter Five
Hannah put on her tightest pair of jeans and a leather corset. Subtle. She laughed at her own image. She screamed sex, from her thigh-high boots to her hair pulled up high. A glittering pendant nestled between her breasts.
But tonight she didn't care what people thought. What she wanted was to find the right man to satisfy her. After being so close to the sexually charged man, Turbo simply hadn't been enough. She needed the real thing so badly she itched for it.
Any man will do, as long as he's someone I can walk away from.
Unlike the intoxicating Liam.
She slid her card off the nightstand and into her pocket, then glared back at herself. No more thoughts of him. Not tonight.
Her door buzzed.
"Open doors."
They opened, revealing William. His gaze ran over her, froze, and his eyes widened.
"What do you think?" she asked, grinning.
One of his brows rose. "I think you plan to get into some trouble tonight."
She laughed. "Don't you?"
He tugged the baseball hat a little lower over his bald green head and walked into her room. "Yeah, I'm sure all the ladies are just thinking 'Man, I want a little Chamyion in me tonight.'"
She strode across the room and punched his shoulder lightly. "Hey, you never know. Some of these girls are into some way more freaky stuff than you, my friend."
"Yeah," he mumbled. "I guess it's possible."
Sympathy squeezed her heart. She couldn't imagine what it was like to stand out wherever you went. After the Chamyion home planet was destroyed, most of them had relocated to dark forests all over the universe, while the others had taken on serving jobs with some of the more wealthy citizens of the world. There was a good chance William would never be among a group of his own kind again.
How lonely.
But there was a reason why he was her best friend. He was kind, intelligent, and determined. A worthy woman would see that. She bet as soon as they got there, he'd be too busy with all the attractive women to remember how different he felt.
"We'll have fun, okay? Don't be so glum." She went back to the full-length mirror and picked a particular dark shade of red to paint on her lips. "We might both go home with hot dates tonight. But let's keep each other company until then. Okay? And tomorrow let's have breakfast together."
He didn't speak for a painfully long time.
She casually gazed at him through her mirror. His expression was troubled.
Turning around, she smiled. "Or I could spend my night trying to find some hottie for you to hook up with."
He shook his head and gave her a strained smile. "No worries. Let's just head out. It's already past nine o'clock. I bet there'll be an awful line."
Seeing her normally grumpy William at least make an attempt to be positive gave her some hope.
"Let's go."
They walked to the elevator where a group of people were already piling in.
One guy caught the door. He gave her a nice smile. Blond, taller than her, decent muscles. She might have found her man for the night.
"Going down?" he asked, grinning.
She raised a brow. "We can't exactly go up, can we?"
Sliding unnecessarily close to him, she checked to see that he'd hit the ground floor button.
"What's your name?" he asked, too close to her ear.
"I'm Hannah, and this is William."
The guy didn't look in her friend's direction as the doors closed. "I'm Greg."
One girl spoke aggressively from behind her, a brunette with no bra and a see-through shirt. "I'm Jennifer."
Hannah swept a stray strand of hair out of her face. "Nice to meet some fellow Hawks."
"Yes," the girl said, squeezing between them. "We're heading to The Wet Whistle."
Greg's eyes ran over Hannah. "I'm guessing you'll be joining us there?"
Hannah smirked. "You bet. Who could miss a night of drinking, dancing, and attractive men?"
His eyes sparked with interest. "Got any particular attractive guy in mind?"
Not Liam.
She winked. "Maybe."
Chapter Six
The bouncer at the door took one look at Hannah and ushered her into the club and past the line. She draped an arm around William's bony shoulder and pulled him along with her, not giving the bouncer a chance to protest. The group they'd met in the elevator hurried in along with her, casting nervous glances back at the line.
She wished she could tell them to relax. With the male-to-female ratio about five-to-one at the academy, she knew their group, which included three attractive women, would be let in without a problem.
It was the two guys that'd be separated and thrown out.
Not that she would let that happen.
They traveled down the steep steps and into the underground club. With each step, a heart-pounding song grew louder. It vibrated through her boots and seemed to surround her, as if they'd stepped into the belly of a beast.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she stopped and stared in awe. The club
was bigger than she imagined. Silver lights flashed in unpredictable patterns on the roof. Shadowed tables lined the outside of the crowded dance floor. The harshest light came from the massive bar to one side of the room, which sparkled gold.
She made a beeline for the bar, swooping in right on time to seat herself at a newly opened barstool.
The bartender, a thirty something male with a long beard and harsh eyes turned to her. "What are you having?" he yelled above the pounding music.
She pointed to her new friends as the two other girls seated themselves beside her. "We'll take a round of Jungle Juice and shots of Saturday Night Fevers."
He shot her an annoyed glance and went to gather the ingredients for the complicated drinks.
"What's Jungle Juice?" William asked, sounding out of breath.
She leaned back and grinned. "Trust me, you'll like it."
He frowned.
"It's sweet. You might even forget there's liquor in it until you're dancing on a tabletop," she grinned. How many times had that happened to her?
Greg leaned in, blocking her view of William. "I've never had a woman order for me before."
Feeling bold, she leaned in closer so that her lips hovered above his ear. "Maybe I'll show you a lot of things you've never experienced before."
She could practically feel his heartbeat speed up.
"Your drinks!" The bartender set them down in front of her, his lips curling.
She reached into her back pocket and took out her card for the needed credits. He scanned it with a band on his palm, then handed it back to her, mumbling something about rich brats.
His problem, not mine.
With her card safely in her pocket, she reached for the pale-colored shots and gave them to her little group. "To The Starflight Academy!"
"To us!" Greg said, and they all clicked glasses.
She drained the shot in one gulp, then slammed it on the counter. The coconut and passion fruit left a sweetness in her mouth that almost masked the warmth of the liquor.
William winced and set the glass down, shaking his head.
"That bad?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but she pressed the next drink into his hands. "Drink it. Trust me."
"Dance?" Greg asked.
She held up a finger and reached for their other drinks. Handing one to him, she grinned.
"I think you might be trying to get me drunk," he said, hot breath puffing into her ear.
Taking a long sip, she watched him over the top of her glass. This man would do just fine. He was attractive enough. Interesting and fun. She could sleep with him and then forget him tomorrow. He was perfect.
Unlike Liam, who sends every muscle in my body tightening.
She released the breath she was holding. That was exactly why she needed to stay away from him. One conversation and she couldn't get him out of her mind.
Draining the rest of her drink, she set it down next to her shot glass. She needed to dance and enjoy her relative freedom for the first time in her life.
And forget a certain man who haunted her.
Linking a finger in Greg's shirt, she pulled him toward the dance floor, but froze. William was standing next to the bar, looking lost.
"Hey, Jennifer!" The girl turned, scowling. "Do you know my friend, William?"
She turned to him, her scowl deepening.
Poor guy.
She released Greg and leaned toward the other girl. "Stay away from him, okay? His people mate only once a year. But when they do, their dicks grow ridiculously large, and they have to fuck. All. Night. Long."
Jennifer's eyes widened.
It was a load of crap. But after a few drinks, no one really cared who they went home with, and the lie would give her friend a fighting chance.
Hannah started back to the dance floor, winking at William when she passed him.
He caught her arm in a surprisingly tight grip. "Shouldn't we stick together?"
She pried his fingers from her arm. "Not if we want to have any fun."
Over her shoulder, she watched as the other girl sidled up to her friend. He'll be thanking me a thousand times over in the morning.
And that's when her night really began. The combination of liquor, music, and the man rubbing up behind her made her lose herself. She danced with abandon, the music's bass pumping through her. Greg could've been anyone at all that night, she didn't care. She was free. Finally far from her father and his many rules. Finally where she always dreamed of being.
Several songs later, she stopped dancing. The people around her were a blur of colors. Her head felt like a balloon, trying desperately to fly away. The lights from the club were making her dizzy.
She needed some air, or better yet, to splash water on her face. She weaved through the dance floor and toward the stairs in the back. William blocked her entrance, but she couldn't hear his words over the booming music. She shook her head, moving around him. He tried to grab her arm, but suddenly Jennifer had her arms around his neck in an intimate hug.
Hannah tried to move faster as she started up the steps. She felt strange, as though she'd spent the night pounding drinks. What the hell had been in that Jungle Juice?
In the bathroom, she splashed water on her face until her mind and body seemed to connect more completely. A girl handed her a small bottle of water, and she took it with gratitude, slamming it and throwing it in the wastebasket.
My body must've forgotten what it's like to have a little fun.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she suddenly felt a desire to go up higher rather than back to the crowd on the dance floor. She took a few steps up, but didn't make it far. Someone knocked into her shoulder, almost sending her falling back, but a strong hand caught her.
She looked up. It was him. Liam. Touching her. Invading her space.
He released her arm but moved closer, shifting to stand behind her.
One big hand ran down the length of her spine, sending shivers through her body, before coming to rest on her lower back. "I need you," he whispered in her ear.
His warm breath made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She nibbled her bottom lip and turned to him. Their eyes met and heat raced down her body.
She nodded.
He guided her up the steps.
A man stepped out in front of them, carrying a case of liquor on his shoulder. He shifted past them and Liam sprang forward, catching the door before it closed. In moments, he'd steered them into the room, the door closing quietly behind them.
It was a storage room for the bar. Every wall was lined with shelves filled with cans and bottles. Tiny blue lights lined the path through the storage room and slightly lighter white lights flickered on the edges of the shelves.
She could no longer hear the music, but the walls vibrated with the bass. Pressing her back against the door, she watched him. This is exactly what I promised myself I wouldn't do.
But she couldn't care less in that moment. The man looked fine. A dark shirt, jeans, and his hair still unkempt. Bad boy was written on every inch of him.
She bit her lip, willing herself to show at least a little bit of restraint.
"You're the sexiest woman I've ever seen," he said, his gaze traveling from her boots, lingering on the swell of her breasts, and then meeting her eyes.
It was a second before she realized her hand had drifted to the zipper on the front of her corset. She tugged on the metal tag, lowering it one inch and then another.
His eyes darkened. She watched in fascination as his large chest heaved, noticing as his hands clenched into fists at his side.
"What do you want?" she asked, the words coming out breathless.
He didn't answer, but instead, drew closer. Their gazes held as he invaded her space, so close their bodies almost brushed. Almost.
That would never do. A man like him needed to be touched, to be explored. Her hands moved to his shoulders, then slid down to rest on his chest. The muscles tightened with the slight pr
essure of her touch. He wants me as badly as I want him.
His hands grasped her lower back, bringing her even closer to him. They shifted restlessly, sliding onto her hips and gripping her possessively.
His mouth lowered.
For a second they both paused, their breath mixing. Their lips inches from one another. Their noses brushed. His hand ran up her body to sweep along the curves of her neck before tilting her face up.
Her whole body ached and trembled as she grew wet. His lips were so close. His smell, rich and earthy, surrounded her. She was more aware of this man than she'd ever been of any other person in her life. Even though their bodies hadn't yet come together, every inch of him radiated heat against her.
The chest beneath her fingertips was a gift, a piece of a godlike man, hard and strong. She dug her nails into him, standing up on her tiptoes until only an inch remained between their mouths. Nothing else mattered in that moment but capturing his lips in her own.
He groaned and closed the distance between them. His lips met hers in a flash of need. His were burning hot, threatening to consume her own beneath his touch.
She slid her hand into his shaggy hair, the strands running through her fingers, awakening every nerve on her hands. He growled, increasing the pressure on her mouth until she spread her lips.
He pressed her back against the door, his body conforming to her own. His tongue swept inside her welcoming mouth, and she felt a quiver run through her body. Heat pooled at her core.
Her hands were restless. There was too much she wanted to touch, needed to touch. Her fingers ran down the front of his shirt, fumbling with his buttons. When they trembled at his first one, she closed her hands around the material and tore.
Suddenly his skin was hers to explore. She grazed the lines of his muscles and let her fingertip brush one of his sensitive nipples, which hardened beneath her touch.
He swore.
Grabbing her ass, he lifted her up.
Her legs automatically wrapped around his waist. They both cried out against each other's lips. His arousal pressed between her thighs, and she rubbed against him enticingly.
He broke their kiss, gasping. His gaze met hers. Need and disbelief filled his expression. "It's never been this strong before. I need to be inside you," he said, shifting his hardness.
She cried out, digging her fingers into his shoulders. "That feels so?so good."
Her hips ground against him.