Ella stepped back, tugging his hand for the briefest moment before letting go and hurrying ahead. “Come on. Show me the way.”
Draikis watched her with a curious expression, a little smile on his lips, his pupils a wee bit wider than usual. “It will be my pleasure.
The pair exited the grounds, walking a respectable distance from one another, well aware of the curious eyes watching their departure. Only once they were past the nearest hill and truly out of view did the unmistakable draw of their Infalas pull them closer. Even then, it was not overt. Just brushing against one another periodically. Standing near. Feeling the energy buzzingbetween them, the attraction escalating with every touch and glance.
It was a decent walk, and it was getting fairly warm out by the time they finally stopped beneath a squat tree with dense leaves and a wide canopy providing plenty of shade as well as ample privacy.
“This is a good spot,” Draikis said, dropping his pack and setting out a spread for their picnic lunch. His ass looked magnificent pressing against the fabric of his trousers, and his broad shoulders moved with sensual grace beneath the sheer fabric covering them. Ella couldn’t take her eyes off him.
Fuck, I’m wet just watching,she realized.
“You ready?”
“What?” she blurted, her cheeks hot.
Draikis looked at her with a confused expression. “Lunch. Are you ready for lunch?”
“Oh, right. Yes, please. That’d be great.”
“Good. I brought a small assortment for you to sample, as well as a couple of bottles of the wine a few of the brothers produce. I think you’ll enjoy them.”
“You make wine here?”
“As a hobby. And not all of us. But Brother Neerus and Brother Kovax took up the practice many years ago, and it has become something of a tradition now. They do not produce much, so we each receive but a small portion of the harvest.”
“If it’s only a limited amount I don’t want to?—”
“Nonsense. You are our guest. My friend. I cannot think of anyone I would rather relax, eat, drink wine, and read poetry with.”
“Poetry?”
“Yes. While you may have been studying our origins in depth, you’ve missed out on the more artistic of texts. I thought youwould particularly enjoy the works of the great poet Xyloxx,” he said, pulling an actual book from his pack.
“Not a digital copy?”
He grinned. “For some texts, I feel there is more, shall we call itweightwhen reading from parchment.”
He set the book down and unsealed the bottle. There was no cork—they were insanely advanced aliens, after all, but at first glance, the sealing mechanism seemed to be only slightly more advanced than shoving round bits of tree into the bottle’s neck. Draikis pressed down on the top, almost like one would for a child-proof lid. But rather than twist, he then squeezed two points on the bottle’s neck. Inside, something sensed his touch and gently released its grasp on the inner wall, allowing the seal to open and be withdrawn.
Two glasses appeared from his pack, each quickly filled.
“Enjoy,” he said, moving to drink.
“Wait!”
“What? Is something wrong?”
“No. I just think a toast is in order.”
“Toast?”
“Maybe that didn’t translate right. What I mean is we should say something nice then clink glasses.”
“Ah, yes. Foolish of me. Would you like to do the honors?”
“I’d be delighted,” she replied, glass held high. “To good wine, good times, and a very good man.”
“And woman,” he added, clinking his glass with hers. “And now, please, help yourself.”
