Yiri Ahlon: My back, my arms, chest, side, legs, hand.
Me: Oh, wow. A lot done since your photo then. Why not use something more recent?
Yiri Ahlon: There aren’t many images of me.
I chewed at the chapped skin on my lip as I stared at my phone. My gaze flicked to Mr. Darcy, who was giving me side eye.
“I know,” I said. “You’re right. It is late. And he’s not as fun as Qhev. I should let this go.”
Mr. Darcy rolled up on his hip, threw out a leg, and licked his belly.
“I’m not making bad life choices, you are,” I said. “That fur is going to come back up, you know.”
Me: Can I see your hand?
I’m a hand-slut, okay? And an arm-slut. And the image on his profile was a good shot of his hand, all thick, and veiny, and strong. And if it was all tatted up now, was I really going to let that get by me? I’d rather have a picture of this man’s hand than that alien dick pic.
Oh, sweet Jesus. Now I’m thinking about his hand around his dick.That happened way too fast. This guy was trouble.
My phone did the water drop sound, and I looked down to see a new message from Yiri.
Yiri Ahlon: [Recording Attached: Yiri Ahlon]
I opened the video, and the muscles in my abdomen clamped down hard.Holy fucking hand porn.He focused in on his fist, balled tight at first, and then he spread his fingers in a wide flex. Awide flex. The cords of sinew and muscle stretched under the skin, shifting under thick, blue-black characters that covered most of his hand and each of his fingers. He rotated his spread hand slowly, showing all of the art. A notification popped up, offering a translation, and I clicked it. His fingers each had one word.Loyalty, honor, family, strength, and trust. The upper part of his hand readfeared by many, conquered by none.So, macho bullshit. But damn, it looked hot. I watched the short video a few times before I responded.
Me: This is getting expensive. Maybe we should call it a night.
Yiri Ahlon: Is it night for you?
Me: Yes. What about you?
Yiri Ahlon: Evening. Night falls at third moon. It’s second moon now.
Me: You have three moons?
Yiri Ahlon: Venastea has five moons.
Me: We only have one measly moon.
Yiri Ahlon: Your moon is diseased?
Me: :) No. It’s an expression. It means small or not good. But I don’t mean that. I like our moon. It’s pretty. But like I said, maybe we should be done for the night.
Yiri Ahlon: You only got one look at my hand. Don’t you want to see what it can do?
This guy. He was not like most of the daernir males I’d been chatting with all night. And how did he seem to know where my mind had wandered when I watched him flex his hand?
Me: As tempting as that sounds, I’ve had a very long day.
Yiri Ahlon: I understand. I’ll tempt you tomorrow, then.
Me: You’re welcome to try.
CHAPTER 4
YIRI
“Is theresomething more important than this meeting on your frame?” Zacal asked, adjusting the darkness of his eye shields.
