Free Origin by Dani Worth Page B

I had done it again. “I keep saying stuff out loud when I don’t mean to.”
    He chuckled and leaned his head back against the wall. “Fagra wine makes Anders think out loud too. Promise to drink it later with him in the room. I can’t even imagine the wicked fun of the two of you drunk together.”
    I looked down at the tube, frowned. “Guess I’ll be avoiding this in the future then.”
    “Please don’t. It’s nice to know I affect you. You do the same to me.”
    I stared at him for what felt like forever. A part of me felt guilty about what I’d done with Anders because I had a feeling his enforced celibacy was a bid to get Clay back. I knew the two of them had been together at some point in the past and I knew they wanted each other still. I was dying to know what had happened to tear them up, so I thought I’d dig a little.
    “What about Anders?”
    He lifted a black eyebrow. “What about him?”
    “You said friends but it seems to be more.”
    “Whatever gave you that idea?”
    “The way he looks at you? The tension? The very real bodily response I’ve seen happen to you both around each other?” I covered my mouth with my free hand and closed my eyes. No, no more Fagra wine for me.
    His chuckle floated across the space between us to make me shiver. “So you’ve been looking. Good to know.”
    “The eye is automatically drawn to movement.” I opened my eyes.
    He threw his head back and laughed loudly. “That’s the absolute best excuse for looking at someone’s crotch I’ve ever heard.” He stopped laughing, his expression losing the humor a little too fast. “I’m not with Anders that way.”
    Confusion muddied my already buzzing thoughts. “I may be rusty, or even completely inexperienced to be honest, but I can recognize what’s between you two. I’m not blind or deaf. I can even smell it on you.”
    “Really.” He watched me for what seemed like a long time, then slid his heels back, came up and over to crawl across the cushions toward me. “What is it you smell?”
    “Desire,” I whispered, my heart racing.
    “That’s funny,” he said, barely raising his voice as he stopped less than a foot from my face. “I think maybe it’s your own desire you’re scenting. Gwinarians and their pheromones—it’s a potent combination.”
    “Pheromones?”
    He shook his head slowly. “You have so much to learn about your people. Whenever a Gwinarian feels true desire for someone they release a scent into the air. Most humans can barely detect it. And because Gwinarians are the most wonderfully sexual race I’ve ever had the pleasure to know, sometimes those Kithran tubes would be filled with scents.”
    “How come you could smell them when others couldn’t?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know. My brother is the same way. We were both drawn to your planet and I always wondered if the stories taught about the origins of our races were true. That we all came from the same place far in the past. Maybe something survived in the humans from Earth—something that makes us connect to Gwinarians on a deeper level. Like to like.”
    “It’s a nice belief.” I smiled.
    He cleared his throat, leaned forward. “Siri, do you know that you’re releasing your own personal scent right now?”
    “I am?” And again, embarrassment flowed through me and made me want to pull the Dranellian blanket over my head. “You and Anders both have this strange ability to make me forget that I hate sex.”
    “Do you? Do you really? Because I’m pretty sure I heard you enjoying something the other day in Anders’s bunkroom.”
    This time I groaned, set the vidscreen beside me and pulled the blanket over my head.
    His chuckles filtered through the blanket and grew louder as he moved closer. I felt the gentle brush of his hand on my leg.
    “You’re trying to change the subject,” I said from under the blanket.
    He tugged the blanket down, winked at me.
    I tried so hard not to let the fear racing up my