He headed over to the assembly hall, making good time. He got there in a little more than ten cycles.
The men had done better and were waiting for him in a neat and tidy formation.
Mike peeked inside and saw the embedding volunteers seated in plastic chairs set into a crescent in front of the podium. They appeared to be relaxed, if Mike was any judge of the soft laughter, smiles, and curious glances at their surroundings.
To one side of the assembly, the rest of his cabal had been seated. He was proud to see they neither fidgeted nor gawked. The cabal’s commander stepped into his line of sight and pointed both index fingers at him, then swung them around to point at a line of empty seats.
::Go.::
Mike sent to the Urilqii under his immediate command. He made his own arm gestures, directing them to the empty seats. The squadron tromped in, looking competent and relaxed, and sat where they’d been directed.
Mike cast his gaze about in search of a seat for his ass, but his cabal’s commander again cut into his line of sight. He repeated his index finger directive to make his wishes known. Mike swallowed a sigh and joined command staff at the line of seats behind the podium.
Steve sat among the other master sergeants, at the rear of the seated Urilqii. A smirk flickered across his expression. The fucker.
Mike made a covert caress of the third stripe on the uniform sleeve, a stripe Steve’s uniform didn’t have but Mike’s did.
The fucker’s expression transformed into a scowl.
Mike swallowed a bark of laughter. Beside him, the Envoy cleared his throat, the sound causing Mike to snap his gaze forward. Now it was his turn to loose a smirk.
Steve didn’t muzzle his amusement.
The orientation program began with a welcome to the human volunteers Mike nodded his head when his name was called, located a spot on the distant wall to stare at for the duration, and commenced his waiting ritual. Voices droned on as he counted down from five hundred thousand to one.
Four hundred and ninety-nine thousand and nine hundred ninety-nine…
Four hundred and ninety-nine thousand and nine hundred ninety-eight…
He’d reached two hundred and thirty-two thousand when a thought slashed across his awareness with all the subtly of a boat horn on a crowded shipping lane.
::…ing asshole’s acting like he doesn’t even know me!:: That was Liam, sending his thoughts with untutored vigor. He knew the touch and the taste of Liam. Startled by the force of the message, Mike dropped his gaze from the scuffmark spot on the wall. He wasn’t surprised to see an annoyed expression on Liam’s face.
When Liam leaned slightly to bring his head out from behind the shade-creating forest of other heads. Mike felt the lash of Liam’s angry glare.
::That’s right. You. Gonna ignore me all day? Dickhead.:: Dickhead? Mike reacted to the implicit challenge the way he reacted with all challenges. He stepped up. But since he was trapped warming a chair with his ass, he did so the only way he could. Mentally.
Mike leapt onto the mind-link and took control with the ease of long experience. Beauty swept through him like a summer’s rainstorm. He tasted the hunger Liam held in his heart, felt the remembered pleasure they’d found in the kiss, and brushed aside the annoyance he felt from being ignored with little effort.
Liam, new to unspoken communication, had no defense against Mike’s raw power and experience. Sexual heat leapt between them as Mike introduced him to what “dickhead” meant to the Urilqii.
* * *
He grabbed hold of Liam’s ears to hold him still and pushed his cock between Liam’s lips, between the teeth, onto the tongue, and deeper…deeper…to push past his gag reflex zone. Liam arched his back and extended his neck in a reflexive reaction to breathe past the pole of fuckmeat shoved into his mouth.
Liam choked, his throat closing around Mike’s dick, and the pleasure caused stars to sparkle behind his eyes.
::Ahh, yes…suck me, babe. Suck me hard.::
Instead, Liam twisted in his grip and pushed against his hips.
Wet snivels matched the rhythm of his thrusts. Tears wet Liam’s cheeks as he whimpered and strained backward.
Fuck.
Clearly, Liam hadn’t been deep-throated before. Mike eased back and cursed himself for an asshole. Terrorizing the guy wasn’t the goal. He’d only wanted to—
Liam’s hands curled around his thighs and held tight. He drew on Mike’s penis with an astonishing eagerness that threw Mike into the fire.
Liam sucked his cock like a broken airlock sucked air. The intense sensation sizzled down Mike’s spine and settled into the small of his back. Helpless to stop himself, he rocked his hips rocked forward. The pleasure was so intense he threw his head back and groaned.
::Harder,:: he urged.
Liam complied by sliding his hands across his thighs to clutch his ass. There he located the small portal between the cheeks with a finger. He massaged and caressed. That finger danced a delicious tempo in time to the exquisite sensations delivered by the hot mouth and determined suction.
His brain turned to mush and slid down the conduit between his spine and his dick with numbing sweetness, filling his balls with nothing but sensation. His knees locked, his muscles seized, and a fork of lightning blazed along his—
* * *
“Belay that!”
Mike jumped and jerked free of the fantasy. His mind still spinning, he struggled for control. Across the room, Liam’s face was slack and his expression dazed. A humiliating realization arrived.
He’d jumped on Liam’s untrained mind-link without bothering to strive for privacy. As such, that bit of heated contact between him and Liam had been broadcast cabal-wide. A cultural gaffe he hadn’t done since pre-adulthood.
The cabal’s commander was on his feet, red-faced and sweeping a formidable frown across the seated Urilqii personnel— who smiled and stifled chuckles—before leveling a glare at Mike that could have blistered metal. Mike strove to look innocent and unconcerned. Tellingly, the tips of his ears had warmed from what he suspected
