Page 20 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

20

A New Erogenous Zone!

B laze

Just when I’m riding a wave of optimism, believing we’ve got a good plan in place, I realize there’s a possible pitfall I have no control over—my titanic friend’s masculine equipment.

To get my rifle, we have to make the viewing public believe he’s in his refractory period until the drones arrive. I’ve known him long enough to know he’s superhuman and needs very little, if any, recovery period, although the shock collar may have put him off his A-game.

I need to keep the audience hanging on, or we’ll feel Hahn’s wrath, but we can’t stall by playing sexual games or Xzavic will get hard and we’ll have to finish the show before we get our reward.

“Ever play fact or fiction?” I ask, a pleasant smile on my face. “We tell each other one statement, and the other person has to guess whether it’s the truth or a lie.” I’m about to say we’ll play until we get to ten, but we know what will happen if I say that. The drones won’t get here by the end of the game and we’ll never get our weapon.

“We’ll play until our prizes come. Then the winner will receive the sexual prize of their choice.” I don’t even glance at Xzavic to see his reaction. Instead, I play to the cameras, winking with what I hope is a lecherous look.

“Fact or fiction,” he repeats thoughtfully. “I’ll play.”

It strikes me it would be fun to play for real. I could get to know the fascinating male sitting at my hip on the bed.

Rising to my knees, I lick from his perfect jawline to his ear, and whisper, “Every answer I give you will be a lie. I don’t want the galaxy to know anything about me. But I want you to know me, Xzavic.”

He nods as he slides his arm around my waist.

“Whatever you do, don’t get hard.”

“Aye.”

We may have never gotten the opportunity to learn each other, but I know a lot about him without needing to be told. I know he likes when I call him by his real name. I know he made sure to give a tiny bite of food to Big Eyes and make sure he had enough water while I was getting dressed. And I know he’s not going to take any pleasure out of killing me if he has to.

“I’ll go first. I was born in a palace.” I’m about to shut up when I realize we may need to drag this out, so I elaborate. “It wasn’t a big country on my planet. Some would call my father a petty potentate, but we were rich in natural resources and my father, the king, had lots of money. And lots of wives. Twelve of them, to be exact. I was from his fourth wife, so I wasn’t destined to be queen. But being a princess is nothing to sniff at.”

He thinks for a while, then thinks some more, dragging things out. He doesn’t need to know me well to know I never even took a tour of a palace, much less grew up in one.

“False,” he says with a smug look on his gorgeous face.

“Wrong.” I say with a gameshow host buzzer tone. “I’m a princess.” I nod my head as I point both hands to myself, as if that will make my lie more believable. “I’m far too good for a gladiator like you. You’re not fit to kiss my feet,” I say with a flip of my hair.

“I am,” he protests. “I am good enough to kiss your feet. I’ll show you.”

He snags the wet towel off its stand as he slides to the floor in front of me. After taking long moments wiping my toes as if they were encrusted with precious jewels, he bends to kiss my feet.

I’m no virgin, but I’ve never had a boyfriend before. I mean, in high school there were some dates, and in my imagination the guys were boyfriends. But in the back of my mind, I always knew it was just rushed hookup sex.

Very few of them could find my clit with a map, and certainly no one wanted to kiss my feet as if they were as valuable as the Hope Diamond.

But there’s Xzavic, body bowed, head dipped as he kisses the tops of my feet. Without warning, he pulls my big toe into his mouth and sucks it.

Hello! I’ve discovered a new erogenous zone. No, Xzavic discovered a new erogenous zone. Every tugging pull of his mouth feels as if he’s sucking my clit. I clench the silken bedspread to keep from spiraling into the stratosphere, then decide I’d rather be clutching Xzavic’s massive shoulders.

This is where his suede-like skin is covered by a beautiful turquoise shell, almost like a turtle’s. I guess it’s an evolutionary protection, but it feels so interesting under my fingertips as I grip him.

One by one he sucks my toes into his mouth, swirls his tongue around them, and sucks them up and down with the same motion I used when I sucked his cock.

Call it temporary insanity, but along with the intense pleasure, my emotions have gone haywire. I, Blaze, have hot tears pricking the back of my eyelids. Not from pleasure, but from the sweetness of the moment.

This male cares about me. I mean, who does such a thing? And on TV? During one of the commercial breaks, I heard Zedd announce that it’s number one in all of planet Marentine’s ratings. This isn’t a stall tactic, this is Xzavic.

“That… that feels amazing, Titan. You’re an amazing lover.” Everything either of us says or does has double meanings. I want the audience to stay tuned and send more money to keep us alive, but I have to let him know what he’s doing to me.

I’m about to lean back and enjoy the ride when it strikes me that this might be getting him hard. If I can smell my own arousal, certainly he can. And if that gives him an erection, it will mean we have to perform now, which means no rifle, which will mean a death sentence for one or both of us.

When I peer down and glimpse around his bobbing head, I see I was correct. Little Titan is hard as metal and pointing straight up.

Shit! Is this a death sentence?