The lift came to a grinding halt, and the doors noisily slid open. Shay hurried out. It felt like things were moving too fast with Drakkal, but it was only herlackof alarm about it that worried her. Unfortunately, the move into the hallway did not bring an improvement in environment.
“Aww, hell,” she muttered.
Two males were fist-fighting in the middle of the corridor, andof coursethey were between the elevator and Shay’s apartment door. They were both big—something she was getting used to by now—and they didn’t seem to be taking it easy on one another. The larger of the two was a naked four-armed onigox who looked to be at least a head taller than Drakkal. The other was one of her neighbors, the cren named Ostik—just as tall as his opponent, but leaner, with a pair of tusks jutting up from his lower jaw.
The onigox seemed to have the advantage, though Ostik was dishing out a good deal of punishment despite his foe’s greater mass and extra set of limbs.
A female cren—Zira—stood a meter or two away from the combatants, her eyes fixed on the melee. She looked far more excited than concerned.
The two cren lived in the apartment two doors down from hers. Whenever Shay heard neighbors arguing—or fucking—it was usually these Ostik and Zira. She’d never seen the onigox before, but her gut-feeling speculation here was that Zira hadn’tonlybeen fucking the Ostik.
Drakkal growled and stepped around Shay.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He turned his head to look at her. “Your apartment is down the hall.”
“Yeah.”
“So why would we stop here?”
“We’re not. But you got all growly and stepped in front of me, so…” She shrugged, hands out, palms up.
Ostik kicked the onigox and launched himself at his larger opponent with a roar, slamming him into the wall.
Drakkal shifted his attention back to the fight, lifted his hands, and tugged off his coat. He handed it to Shay. “Yeah, because I know how situations like this usually go.”
Shay accepted the coat and watched as he stalked forward, unable but to focus on his ass in those tight, black pants, and the hypnotizing sway of his tail. He really,reallyhad a nice ass.
Stop it, Shay. Eyes up.
Before Drakkal reached the fighting males, Zira pushed herself away from the wall and approached him. Her yellow eyes were intent upon the azhera, and a flirtatious smile had curved her lips. She was dressed only in lingerie, similar to a baby doll nightie, its fabric sheer and glimmering—and it left nothing to the imagination regarding the body beneath. She had long, toned limbs and supple blue skin. Her tall, athletic figure made Shay feel even smaller and more inadequate, especially with the bowling ball that had taken residence in her belly.
Sorry, Baby. I don’t mean that.
The female cren seemed totally unbothered by the green moisture dripping down her inner thighs.
Shay cringed.
Oh, her mandefinitelyjust walked in on her in bed with that onigox.
“Azhera,” Zira purred, reaching out to brush her fingers down Drakkal’s arm. “You look like you need a roughfuck.”
What. The fuck?
Shay narrowed her eyes and took a step forward. Something burned in her chest, something hot and lethal, something she couldn’t identify—but it definitely wasn’t heartburn. This discomfort wasn’t a result of her pregnancy.
She curled her hands into fists, squeezing Drakkal’s coat. She wanted—needed—to hit something. And that something was the female easing closer to Drakkal, about to press her nasty, splooge-covered body against him.
“Bitch, back off,” Shay snapped.
Startled, Zira looked at Shay as though just noticing her presence.
Drakkal glared at the female cren, who’d taken hold of his arm with both hands. Voice barely more than a low growl, he said, “Sheis my female, and I will not hold her back if you choose to disobey her.”
She is my female.
An entirely different heat bloomed in Shay at the sound of his claim.