Judiciary Advocate La’Ra Win’Stone stood in front of the ticket desk. She clutched her hands together until her knuckles ached. Her impatience grew as the clerk methodically entered her information into the debarkation log.

A long sigh whispered across her lips. Her heart thudded hard in her chest. It wasn’t because the clerk was taking his time. Oh no. Not at all. It was because she was in a major nightmare that kept replaying itself over and over again.

The message from the Grand Council of Allurae rolled over and over again in her head.

The crisply worded statement kept hitting her like bolts of lightning. “Your stunningly superficial defense of the client has brought us to a decision…”

Biting her lower lip, she nodded when the ticket agent asked her if she was traveling to the Community of Modernized Planets’ headquarters for business. “Yes.” She managed to drag the single word around the clog of emotion gathering in her throat.

She couldn’t name the emotion.

Farden frig, she wasn’t supposed to even have emotions.

The fact she was now suffering from feelings she not only couldn’t control but were also roiling to the surface with greater intensity and velocity than the last outburst had her in real trouble with the powers that be on her planet. Technically, she was breaking Allurae law simply for sympathizing with another of her kind who’d allowed his emotions to lead him to murder a woman and her chosen partner.

Every inch of her shrieked at that memory.

That she’d lost the case, well, that was a whole other kettle of trouble.

You failed. You didn’t perform your duty. That’s what the High Council had meant by her “stunningly superficial defense.” You are no longer welcome on this planet. The decision was easy for them to make—after all, she hadn’t just failed; she’d shown her emotions, too.

A memory of gasping for all the intergalactic watchers of Court-vidi when the decision was handed down was permanently branded in her mind and on her soul.

“Ma’am?” the cyborg asked. He tilted his head to the side as if he was pondering her. He actually wasn’t. He couldn’t illicit true emotions. In the back of her head, she ordered herself to be more like the life-like machine.

It was a hopeless endeavor.

With tears in her eyes, she took the ticket from the cyborg standing behind the high-gloss counter.

Actually she knew where. Her first stop was the Inter-Gal outpost 932 on Rygellius. There she’d be given a thorough medical examination to see if her recent emotional outbursts were due to an infection or if she suffered from a sudden-onset mental disease.

Shaking her head, she pondered the last stellar month and the intergalactic court that had landed her ass in a jam. How? Why? What happened?

She’d gone over every single minute of her time in the courtroom. The case was based on pure truth. There wasn’t any doubt Mar’Lin Tel’Don had murdered two people in a fit of jealous rage. He’d confessed to it from the start. He’d tried to explain his deep-seated love for his female victim had forced him to take drastic measures when she didn’t reciprocate the emotions and had mated the person chosen for her by the Cohabitation Group.

Interesting. It was the first word that had sprung to mind when she’d listened to him as he moved step-by-step through the incident. The only logical explanation that fit Mar’Lin Tel’Don was that he was ill. After all, no Allurae, other than the ostracized and recently exiled Emoters, had feelings.

Moving away from the counter when the passenger behind her loudly cleared his throat, she strode to where her guard stood poised. The guard she felt was a waste of Community resources.

She gripped the ticket hard in her hands. By the Gods, I have to stop these… feelings. Sadly, it was as though she was losing her mind. I do believe I am slowly going insane.

“All ready?” InterGal Lieutenant David MacQuaid asked. A frown marred his brow.

“Yes, Lieutenant MacQuaid,” she muttered. Her gaze skittered to the chiseled planes of his face. A blush heated her cheeks. Her sadness and fear from the moment before veered to a just as likewise strange sensation—lust.

The man was too handsome for words and so unlike the Allurae who’d been chosen for her by the Cohabitation Group. Like her, Col’Lin An’Lo was an advocate. He wasn’t employed by just the Judicial Branch but the Corporate one as a negotiations advocate. They supposedly supported the same causes, such as the pursuit of intellect and the betterment of their chosen fields through stringent adherence to the anti-emotion laws.

Her gaze met and locked with David’s steady stare. In her mind’s eye, she imagined him undressing her, kissing her, having hot, passionate sex with her.

A breathy sigh broke from her throat when a small smile lifted the corners of his highly kissable lips.

She fisted her hands to keep herself from caressing his broad shoulders. A plea built inside her when she imagined the dark-skinned, dark-haired man plowing into her, bringing her to a toe-curling orgasm. Correction, she wanted a life-altering, world-tilting orgasm.

There was nothing she’d like more than to lean her head against the firm wall of his chest and lose herself completely—absolutely—in the passion she was certain they could create. La’Ra licked her suddenly dry lips. Unbidden, her stare dipped to his crotch. The defining bulge tightening his pants had her imagination going warp speed.

She sucked in a sharp gasp. Her pulse went crazy. A shiver shot down her body.

Cease! She snapped her gaze back to the chiseled planes of his face.

It was the worse sensation she was struggling with, this disgustingly obvious attraction she had for the lieutenant. The ardor that had a mind of its own and had constantly broken her concentration during the trial was her proverbial cross to bear. Granted, it gave Mar’Lin Tel’Don a good chance at appeal since she, too, was blatantly suffering from some malady.

Not that two Allurae suffering the same illness meant anything to the powers that be.

And, again, her emotions roller-coastered in the opposite direction.

Failed! The word screamed in her head.

The first vestiges of a headache began to throb in her temples. “If you would.” Raising her hand, she motioned for him to lead the way. Probably not a very good idea since the man was just as gorgeous from behind as he was when he walked beside her.

“I am not well.” She tried to sound in control. The perfectly unaffected, bland tone she was going after was totally ruined by her shaking words.

He frowned. David nodded to his partner, Barassus. She’d never met one of Barassus’ species before. A Dareauxian.

The Dareauxian crackled with energy every time he touched her. She licked her dry lips again in a lame yet valiant attempt to get her teeming emotions under control. Barassus took the lead instead while David urged her forward with his hand on the small of her back.

Tingles shot up her spine before reversing course to head straight for her sex. Her heightened awareness of David mingled with the sight of Barassus leading her toward the shuttle bay.

David was dark. Barassus was as fair as stardust. Not as tall as his partner, he had eerily light eyes she could get lost in. She couldn’t deny the fact Barassus intrigued her and not only physically, but partially because he was a part of the mysterious Dareauxian culture.

“My God,” she whispered as she imagined the two InterGal officers initiating a ménage.

Thus the teeming feelings swirling inside her shifted once more. Her body teetered for a split tic on the edge of self-righteous anger at both men for making her want them so badly.

You have to stop this.

It was a lost cause. An image of the two men fucking her suddenly popped into her head. A soft gasp whispered past her lips. Moisture gathered on her feminine folds. An all-too-familiar and unwanted throb began to pulse deep in her belly. The tremor inched down her pussy and made her want to squirm.

Actually, the images made her want to get closer to both men—preferably naked.

She gasped. Get control of yourself, she ordered sternly—silently.

I am Allurae. Emotions are not to be indulged. They lead to chaos. They lead to anarchy. They lead to Hell.

“Are you all right?” David’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“I… have a slight… headache is all. Thank you for your concern.” She walked down the corridor toward the shuttle bay. The entire trip, she felt his gaze on her back. Paranoia or wanton lust?

It took every ounce of her already flagging self-control to keep from spinning around and begging him to fuck her—to stop herself from screaming at them she needed them with a desperation that singed her skin. She didn’t understand what was happening to her, but she had to have him, them—both.

An instinct greater than the unbendingly strict Allurae mantra stroked through her. They, and only the two men who had been her nearly constant companions since she’d been assigned to advocate for Mar’Lin Tel’Don, could get her off this sexual hook she’d been placed upon. “What is wrong with me?”

Her nipples turned to hard buds when another mental snapshot rose in her mind’s eye. The image was of her on her knees, sucking first David’s cock then Barrassus’.

Shaking so hard her teeth clacked together, she came to a sudden stop and stood before the streamlined shuttlecraft. She was ready to do anything to stop the unadulterated desire flying across her skin. The damnable throb in her crotch turned to a driving thump. “Make it stop. Please, God, make it stop.”

“I thought the Allurae didn’t believe in religion?” Barassus posed that question to her.

“Make what stop?” David’s tone was tinged with suppressed mirth. He reached around her and punched in the code to open the hatch. As he removed his hand from the control panel, he accidentally brushed his fingers across the skin of her upper arm. Goosebumps rose on her flesh.

“Nothing,” she snapped. Just leave me alone. Sadly, that was the last thing she really wanted. Clenching her fists, she forced herself to nod when she entered the shuttle. Her heart blasted in her chest.

“It’ll be tight quarters until we reach the Rising Star.” David entered right behind her. “Hope you don’t mind, Advocate La’Ra Win’Stone.”

Appreciating his use of her proper name, something most alien species didn’t understand about her kind, she blew out a breath as she took a seat at the rear of the shuttle. The simple gesture on his part pulled her mind back into focus for a split tick of the intergalactic clock mounted on the titanium wall of the shuttle. “I don’t mind at all.” She folded her hands in her lap after she’d secured her restraints. “How long will it take for the shuttle to reach our main conveyance?”

“A few hours, at least,” Barassus responded as he took his position in the co-pilot’s seat. “The space ports leading to or from Rygellius are packed with traffic this time of the galactic year. This is mainly because of the penal colony transfers. Lots of ships headed for the detention camps near the Outer Rim.”

An involuntary shiver raced down her spine. Quelling the telltale twitch, she sighed. She inhaled slowly through her nose and then exhaled with just as much control out her mouth. You are in control.

She snapped her gaze back to the man when he chuckled at her. “I had heard that intergalactic crime was on the rise.” A pang of a nameless emotion struck her. The internal war was back on, and before she could blink, she cried surrender once more.

Her lack of discipline sent a cascade of the one emotion she wanted to steer well clear of back through her body. Longing. The fear of being so utterly alone and without a rudder to guide her through the rest of her days welled up from the soles of her feet to the top of her head.

These men were part and parcel of that singular fear. Thus, I lust for them. It made sense.

It only intensified the crazed passion already blazing a path through her body. Tears gathered in her eyes when she remembered the last time she’d seen Mar’Lin Tel’Don. He’d been openly weeping about how he’d rather die than live without his love. If the rumors were true about the detention camps and penal colonies, he’d probably get his wish sooner rather than later.

A tear etched a slow path down her cheek. She moved to swipe it away. David cupped her chin in his calloused fingers and tilted her face up. His thumb stroked her jaw, and he wiped away the wetness.

“I’m… fine.” How do you deal with these feelings? Sexual frustration mingled with the anxiety wrung from the emotions. She might as well have been teetering on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Every inch of her being screamed for her to find a logical position, a superior mindset in order to stave off the sensations slowly making her crazed.

There was no logic involved in this situation.

All she knew was wanton desire.

Either man.

Both men. Yes, preferably both.

Why am I debating this?

It made little difference. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—fuck either man if her life depended on it. I’m already in enough trouble.

The throb in her core turned to a painful pulse, and she wiggled in her seat, trying without much success to alleviate the torturous lust ramping up inside her.

A fresh burst of moisture pooled on her already wet folds. “What’s happening to me?” she whispered. Her nipples hardened even more.

“Let’s get this shuttle going, and then we’ll talk,” David informed her.

Talk? The man is out of his mind. I need sex. Hot. All consuming. Curl-her-toes-two-stellar-weeks-later sex. Her throat went dry when she lifted her gaze to the chiseled planes of his face. He sent her a sympathetic smile.