“That’s quite the dress,” came a low, dual-toned voice behind her.
Shepard felt a tickle at the back of her throat and swallowed it down. She turned, lifting her chin so she could look at Garrus more fully in the face.
He flashed her a confident grin.
“Thanks - I’m not sure I can get it off by myself,” Shepard complained, shifting under the snug fabric.
And with that, Garrus’ outward collected cool evaporated like water in space. His eyes widened slightly and he made a choking sound. Shepard, realizing how her off-hand complaint must have sounded to him, fought down a laugh.
“I’m not…I’m not coming on to you, Garrus. I’m being serious - I'm literally sewn into this thing!” She whispered in a rough rush.
“Spirits, Shepard. I’m having enough trouble keeping a handle on my sub-vocals as it is,” he turned back to face her, a light blue flaring along the skin of his throat, visible just above the cut of his black suit. Shepard eyed the turian blush greedily.
She knew what that patch of skin tasted like - earthy, metallic, the texture rough under her tongue. She swallowed as her mouth reflexively watered.
“Sub-vocals?” she repeated, pulling her eyes back up to his with some effort.
Garrus lifted a brow. He clenched his jaw and made a low humming noise. She felt that vibration in her throat again. She jerked slightly, and watched his grin widen.
“You hear it a little, don’t you?” he asked, leaning towards her.
“I wouldn’t say hear exactly…”
“Ah. Well, whatever it is you’re…sensing?” he questioned, Shepard nodded. That was as good a word for it as any. He continued, straightening back up, “Any other turian in hearing distance can too. It’s not exactly something we can easily disguise. I’d been planning on keeping my distance from you tonight.” Garrus lifted a free hand, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not doing a good job of that, though. Crap.”
Chapter 16 of Palaven Rising is finally up.
Sorry about the…damn, year and a half hiatus.
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