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“The history as in the invasion?”
“Before that.” Mal’ik leaned forward again and put his elbows on his knees. His shoulders loosened, as though now that he was speaking it wasn’t so difficult to keep going. “For generations before the invasion, Southern Tava was part of the Human species state in name only. The Humans basically ignored them, and they were independent for all intents and purposes. And they liked it that way.”
Oliver nodded, his history coming back to him now. He had dismissed it as well, thinking it couldn’t matter anymore after all that happened. “But then we started dealing with overpopulation, and we started settling more people into the region.”
“To bolster your claim on it against the Klah’Eel.” Mal’ik gave him a half smile that Oliver returned.
“Allegedly.” Oliver chuckled. Officially the Human government denied that accusation, and the two sides had agreed to disagree on the subject at the signing of the peace treaty.
“In any case,” Mal’ik shrugged, “more humans came, more Human species state oversight came, then the Klah’Eel invasion came, most of the new humans left, and here we are.”
“Meaning the people the Klah’Eel are trying to rule are the people that never wanted to be ruled by a species state in the first place.” Oliver chuckled to himself and leaned back into the couch.
“Precisely.” Mal’ik took another gulp of liquor and sighed.
Oliver grinned at him. “See. You do have useful thoughts.”
Mal’ik glanced at him and then looked away again quickly. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
Mal’ik’s scarred lips twitched in that little smile Oliver was so drawn to and didn’t reply.
They lapsed into silence.
Mal’ik sat with his elbows on his knees, twirling his mostly empty cup of liquor in his hands. Oliver sat next to him, fighting and failing to keep his eyes off him.
He was breathtaking. Oliver literally felt his breathing constrict when he looked at him, and he didn’t rightly know why. Klah’Eel were not attractive by human standards—tusks, sharp teeth, heavy brows—and Mal’ik had scars twisting over his face and a missing arm to boot. But those were the things Oliver felt himself most drawn to.
Mal’ik had survived. He was strong. And while people like Oliver and everyone he had ever known talked in circles and gave orders and called it power, Mal’ik embodied power in a way that felt real. And he used it to protect, to care, to stand guard.
Oliver licked his lips and met Mal’ik’s orange eyes. The big man had gone still, his face serious, and his gaze bore into Oliver.
Suddenly, Mal’ik set his cup on the table, clapped his hands onto his own muscular thighs, and pushed himself to stand. “I should go.”
Oliver’s heart clenched as his window of opportunity threatened to slam closed. He knew he should let Mal’ik leave. He shouldn’t embarrass himself or expose this weakness, or indulge this distraction, but the man was about to slip through Oliver’s fingers, and it made him want to cry.
“Will you fuck me?”
Chapter Three
Oliver almost gasped, and he bit hard on his bottom lip to keep himself from saying more. Justifications beat against the back of his teeth, as though will you fuck me wasn’t enough and he needed to make his case as to why Mal’ik’s answer should be yes.
God, Oliver hoped his answer would be yes.
Slowly, Mal’ik turned to face Oliver, looking down at him on the couch from his towering height. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
That startled a laugh out of Oliver. “Do I want you to? How can you ask that? I must smell like a bitch in heat to you.”
“You don’t. You smell…” Mal’ik paused, and his eyes narrowed as he seemed to search for the right word. “…like molasses.”
“Like molasses?” Oliver wrinkled his nose and looked down at the couch. “You know, I think I preferred the dog. No one likes molasses.”
“I do.”
Oliver’s breath caught at the certainty in Mal’ik’s tone, and Oliver’s eyes flickered back up to his face. Mal’ik’s expression didn’t say anything. Oliver wondered if his smell did. This would be so much easier if he could smell the arousal on Mal’ik as easily as Mal’ik could smell it on him. Assuming there was anything to smell on the bigger man or if anyone could even make it out over Oliver’s cloud of pheromones.
Oliver shifted in his seat. “So then, is that a yes?”
