“I see the way you’re panting after him. I don’t blame you; that Atlan is so damned hot.” Hearing the words come out in my friend’s cute German accent almost made me burst into laughter. Years of discipline saved me.
I turned and glared at Melody, gave her my infamous instructor narrowed-eyes look. Actually, it was myDon’t-Fuck-With-Me cop face, but she didn’t know that. It had worked pretty well on the streets of Toronto, but Melody was a friend, and apparently, unaffected by my hard-won glare.
She glanced from the Atlan Warlord, who was about to fight in the pit, to me, giving me that all-too familiar sweet and innocent look. “What? Don’t tell me I’m wrong. You’re eyeing him like an all-you-can-eat dessert buffet back home.”
I turned back to the scene before us, pursing my lips and hoping my cheeks weren’t turning bright red. While I refused to admit it, my Earth friend—and senior cadet—was right. The Atlanwas one fine male specimen. Tall, dark and handsome wasn’t enough to do him justice. He had to be close to seven feet tall with a physique that made me think he ate Crossfitters back home for breakfast. But since he was standing—shirt off, I might add—in a fighting pit, he had the hard edges, the cut muscles, of a male who’d survived ruthless action. Battle. Devastation. He was scarred, and those scars made me hot. So freaking hot. I wanted to trace every single one of them with my tongue.
He had cyborg parts like the rest of them on The Colony—both of his arms were covered in the shining silver of circuitry and muscle implants. He had a thick scar on the back of his neck, but I had no idea if that was from the Hive or something that had happened in battle. After almost a year of bringing recruits to The Colony for training, I was used to seeing the silver parts of the warriors who lived here. I was no longer surprised when a fighter had glistening metal embedded in his flesh. The implants meant nothing to me except as badges of honor. He’d battled the Hive, fought hard, survived. Everyone on this planet had and I respected every single warrior here.
But this Atlan made my body go on red alert. I couldn’t see his legs, as they were covered by pants, but his back and chest were bare. Hot muscular perfection that I wanted to touch. And lick. And pet. And kiss.
My body hummed with a surprising need. My libido had gone into hibernation in recent times; as an instructor, there was no fraternizing with the cadets at the Coalition Academy, even if I was only a few years older than most of the new recruits. Abstaining hadn’t been a problem. And since the other instructors and administrators didn’t push any of my buttons, it made my no-men, no entanglements rule pretty easy to follow. But looking at the Atlan, I licked my lips. Rule or no rule, I wanted a piece of that.
“If that’s him normally, I wonder what he looks like in beast mode,” she added, leaning in and murmuring in my ear. She pointed at the way the Atlan paced, eyeing his foe from the edge of the fighting area, clenching his hands open and closed into fists. That only corded the muscles and tendons in his forearms. Holy shit. Him in beast mode? Bigger, bulkier, more dominant. Intense. Ruthless.
My pussy was yelling
