“Actually,” he answered, leaning into the caress she was giving him, “my hair used to be much longer than this, with only the sides shaved. When I’d go to work in the mines, I would braid the top into rows to keep it clean.”
“Really?” she asked, pulling back to look at him fully. “I can see that,” she said after a minute. “I bet it looked hot. What made you change it?”
“One of the other females told me I looked like a Viking, and I didn’t know if that was a compliment or not, so I shaved the whole thing. What you see now is the growth of a few Earth months.”
“Wait,” she instructed with a giggle. “Someone said you looked like a Viking, so you shaved your head?” she repeated, biting her lips to hide her obvious amusement.
“Don’t laugh. I’m not the only one that made changes based on what our visitors have remarked upon,” he defended. “Bitters shaved his beard, although it did look awful, and we were all trying to get him to do it, and Matrix used to be completely bald. He stopped shaving when one of the females called him Mr. Cleaner.”
Lucy smiled. “I think you mean Mr. Clean.”
He nodded, giving her a nervous look. “Do you wish me to grow it back out?”
“If you want to,” she said with a shrug of her dainty shoulders. “I like it however you like it.” Running a finger over the shell of his ear, she gave him a smile. “Remember what you said earlier about how you didn’t plan to feed me any more of your cock?”
Sparx’s pants tightened at the suggestiveness in her voice. “Yes.”
“How hard do you think it would be for me to change your mind?” Lucy licked her lips, her face hungry.
Sparx stopped walking for a moment and shook his head. Closing his eyes, he took a few breaths. Willing the painful erection to subside enough for him to continue walking without feeling like his cock was going to break off.
“Sparx?” His gorgeous tormentor cupped his cheek, turning his face her direction while his eyes continued to stay shut. She traced a finger over his lower lip, the sensation startling him into opening his eyes.
Lucy gave him an innocent look, peeking up at him through her lashes as she laid her cheek against his shoulder.
“Do you think you could hurry up. I’m starving.”
He groaned.
She was going to kill him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I don’t think any amount of sucking in is going to make these look smaller,” she announced, wondering how Sparx was going to react to the overabundance of cleavage she had on display, some of it bruised with the claiming marks he liked to scatter there.
Lucy couldn’t stop the satisfied smile that slid across her lips at the memory of the more recent ones he’d sucked upon her thighs.
Her mate was insatiable.
“Holy tits, Batman.” Rue clapped, starting slow before building speed.
“Thank you,” Lucy bowed, fluttering her hand at the cleavage her bra and the borrowed dress propped up for everyone to see. Turning around, she studied the mirror with a critical eye and made a face. “I don’t know. I mean, don’t you think it’s a bit too much?”
“Don’t be crazy.” Kicking back, her friend propped her feet up on the footstool in front of where she was relaxed in the corner chair. “Sparx is gonna lose his shit when he sees you in that dress—which, by the way, I’m pissed looks that good on you. The last time I wore it, someone asked if I was going to a funeral.”
“Pfft,” she argued, fluffing her hair as she checked herself out. “It looks fantastic on you too, and you know it.” Turning carefully on her slightly still tender ankle, Lucy held out her arms in a ta-da motion. “I’m serious though. Is it too much?”
Rue raised one hand to her chin, tapping a finger against it as she studied Lucy with an extremely serious expression.
“Too much? Absolutely not.” Rue shook her head. “Trust me. Sparx won’t be able to keep his hands to himself, I promise you that.”
“That’s a given,” Lucy snorted, before smiling like a fool. “I feel—”
“What?” Rue asked, an expectant look on her face.
“Happy.” The word came out on a burst of air, shooting across the room with the energy of a bottle rocket. “It’s like—he’s everything I’ve ever wanted, Rue. I don’t even know how to explain how it feels to know that I have him.”
“I’m happy for you, Goose. I really am.”
Lucy frowned. She knew Rue enough to know a real smile from a fake one, and the one she was flashing at that moment was faker than fake. Rue was worried she wasn’t going to find her own happily ever after. It had been a full week since Lucy had found Sparx, and no matter how many Djaromir they introduced Rue to…well—so far there hadn’t been any hint of a match. With one week of their volunteer time gone already, it seemed as though time was slipping away.
“It’s going to happen to you too,” Lucy said, pushing Rue’s feet off the footstool to sit down in front of her friend. “Sparx said you haven’t even met half of the Fyeir yet, and there are still two more cities here.”
“I know,” Rue answered, her voice not nearly as enthusiastic as when they’d first talked about getting her a mate the week they’d arrived. “He told me the same thing. I’ll try to stop worrying.” Clearing her throat, she looked around. “Where’s he at again? How’s he doing?”
Lucy gave her friend the look. The one that said she knew Rue was trying to distract her.
“He’s fine,” she answered dryly. “Which you know, since you saw him at breakfast this morning.”
“Actually, where is he at?” Rue looked around with a frown. “Isn’t he supposed
