“Does this human thing have a name?” Alec fought the urge to smile. “Yeah. It’s called kissing.” Zercy quieted, then seemed to try the word on for size. “Kissing,” he rumbled. “A peculiar act, indeed. But I liked it… It was pleasing. Kiss me again.” Alec’s eyes shot back to his. “Uh… No.” “Tah.” “No.” “Why not?” “Because,” Alec scrambled to explain. Kríe were so dense. “That kind of thing’s intimate.” “Intimate.” “Yeah.” “As in, reserved for someone to whom you are attracted.” “Yes. Exactly. Not just any—” Alec froze. Son of a bitch. Zercy grinned, fangs flashing. “That is right. You are
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