Page 7 of Songbird (A Space Pearl’s Treat #1)
My tail had lost its fucking mind. The thing thrashed about wildly, whipping back and forth so violently that I tucked it under my thigh, sitting on it in an attempt to control the erratic movement.
The mere idea of Izzy pretending to be my mate made my blood tingle with excitement.
My mind raced with the possibilities—both in and out of the bedroom, anticipation bubbling inside me at the thought of being intimate with her.
She was undeniably beautiful, and there was something about the way she leaned into me, accepting my attempts at comfort, that made me feel possessive and protective.
“I just want you to understand what will be required to convince the conciliator that Tarrick has mated with you,” Jala reiterated to Izzy. “Everyone on the space station will need to believe it as well.”
Izzy sat calmly at my side, her delicate hands folded primly in her lap. “I understand, Tarrick will be my beard.”
Beard?
“You wish me to act as facial hair?” I asked, certain the translation was incorrect. My fingertips went to my chin, feeling the stubble. As a rule, I kept my whiskers cut short, but if Izzy wished otherwise, I would be happy to oblige.
Instead, she laughed, hearty and lyrical. My tail responded to the sound with such force, it nearly lifted me from the sofa cushion.
“No,” Izzy said at the end of a chuckle. “On Earth, a beard is what we call someone who pretends to date or mate with someone. A relationship just for pretend.” Pink colored her cheeks in a delightful shade. “I’ve actually been someone’s beard before.”
“You have mated before?” My question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications and a hint of curiosity.
Why did the idea bother me so much? It stirred up a mixture of unease that sat like a heavy ball in my stomach.
Not to mention, for the first time in hours, my tail went limp as though in mourning.
“No.” Izzy’s smile was faint and a little sad. “But I pretended to be the girlfriend… the mate of an actor named Sam Harlow.”
“Why?” I noticed Jala’s gaze jerk to me. Granted, it was truly none of my concern, but I wanted—I needed—to know.
A faint line grew between Izzy’s brow as her small blunt teeth worried over her lower lip for a long minute. “Sam was....” She paused again, struggling to find the right word. “Sam was a male who enjoyed the company of other males over females.”
“Ahhh,” Jala nodded. “He was luwadi .” She used the Vaktaire term for a male sexually attracted to other males.
I spoke Vaktaire as well as over two hundred other languages.
Perhaps I should add human language to my repertoire.
The sound of Izzy’s voice through my translator sounded sweet, but it would be nice to converse with her unfiltered.
“Did he not wish anyone to know he was luwadi ?” Praxxan asked, frowning in confusion.
I understood my brother’s bewilderment. Many species in the universe favored their own gender sexually and only mated with the opposite sex to produce offspring.
“No, he didn’t.” Again, her smile was wistful and sad.
“He was an action star.” Her bright eyes glanced about, reading the confusion on our faces.
“Sam made very successful videos that portrayed him as a great, ancient warrior. Some on my planet thought if people knew he preferred men—males—instead of females, it would hurt his ability to make the videos. So, they asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend—his mate.”
The ball in my stomach grew heavier. “And did you mate with him?”
“Mate?” Izzy stared at me, eyes narrowed for a moment before going wide, her cheeks taking on a deep pink hue. “You mean have sex? God no!”
“How did you convince others you were his mate? Your scents would not have mingled.” Jala pondered aloud.
Izzy’s blush deepened, and my tail twitched with the adorableness of it. “Um… most people on Earth don’t have noses that good, thankfully.”
“Then how did you convince them?” My sister-in-law leaned forward in her chair, reaching for my brother’s hand and entwining her fingers with his. Despite being two different species, no one ever doubted the love and devotion they felt for one another.
A faint giggle rose from Izzy’s lips, and her delicate shoulders raised in a shrug. “There wasn’t much to it, honestly. Sam came to a few of my concerts. I visited him on set, and we went to a few awards shows together. The paparazzi did the rest.”
“What is pap-pur-atzi?” Jala seemed fascinated.
“Paparazzi is someone who follows famous people around and takes their photograph,” Izzy explained. “In my case, with Sam, we made sure someone leaked to the paparazzi anytime we’d be together. The paparazzi took pictures, and those pictures convinced everyone we had mated.”
A broad smile curved Jala’s lips.
“Why are you smiling?” I groused at my sister-in-law. I did not like the discussion of Izzy with another male, even if it was pretend. “We do not have these pop-purr-asses .”
“No.” A sly smile broke across her face, and her golden eyes sparkled. “But the station is full of gossips.”