“I want you, Tabitha. All of you. And soon enough, you will see that you are mine.”
Tabitha caught her bottom lip between her teeth and curled her toes into the bedding as she shivered with temptation. Liquid heat pooled between her thighs, and she knew that her panties were wet with her desire. She felt hollow and needy, and the ache at her core had become the greatest agony she’d ever endured. No matter how hard she tried, she could not look away from his eyes. She was caught, ensnared, totally at his mercy.
And it turned her on.
He drew in a long, deep breath and lifted his head away, shutting his eyes as though in bliss. His lips stretched into a wide, sensual grin, flashing his sharp fangs. “Your scent is the most delicious, maddening thing I have ever smelled, Tabitha.”
Opening his eyes, he looked down at her. His gaze was feral, predatory, sensual and hungry, dangerously seductive, but his grin soon faltered. His brow creased with strain, and his jaw tensed, lips pressing together. His next breath was ragged and unsteady.
Zevris shoved away abruptly, sliding off the bed to stand at its foot. The room seemed impossibly, unbearably brighter for a few seconds without his body over Tabitha, and the air seemed too cold and thin for her to catch her breath.
She watched, flustered and speechless, as he closed his hand around his thick cock, his features tight with desire and agony. He groaned, the sound ending in a guttural growl. When he lifted his hand, he returned his attention to the cardboard box, scooping out an armful of her bras.
He bunched them together with her panties and carried them to the dresser, quickly putting them away, before he snatched up the box and upturned it over the open drawer. Several pairs of her socks tumbled out into the drawer.
Between his bare chest, taut ass, and the undiminished bulge in his sweatpants, Tabitha wasn’t sure where to look—every part of him was delicious.
Zevris stepped to the door and reached for the handle.
That was enough to snap Tabitha out of her trance. “Where…where are you going?”
He closed his hand on the doorknob and looked at her over his shoulder. His eyes gleamed with lust. “To prepare food for my female.”
He opened the door and slipped out into the hallway, turning slightly to fit through the gap and granting her one last glimpse of his outlined cock before he was gone. The door closed softly, but the sound of it was deafening in the relative silence.
And all she could do was lie there, stunned, her body aching with unfulfilled need.
Alien one, Tabitha nothing.
Tabitha groaned and turned her eyes toward the ceiling. The haze that had clouded her thoughts slowly lifted.
What was wrong with her? She shouldn’t have wanted him, shouldn’t have craved him like this—he’d abducted her. She should’ve been kicking and screaming, demanding he let her go, fighting him tooth and nail. But every time he touched her or spoke to her in that husky, growly voice, she was like putty in his hands. Even if he could mask his true appearance, he couldn’t mask the raw yearning burning in his eyes whenever he looked at her.
Was she so starved for affection that she could forgive what he’d done?
Yes. Yes, I am.
She could admit it. She was twenty-six years old, lived by herself, had no boyfriend, and the only family she’d ever had passed away two years ago. Tabitha could admit to herself that she was…lonely. And she truly didn’t think Zevris was a bad guy—or a bad alien. Everything he’d said had seemed sincere and honest, and if it was a matter of his whole species dying out, could she blame him for doing whatever he needed in order to save them?
But that didn’t mean he could take her choice away. That didn’t mean he could just take…her. She refused to go down without a fight. So what if he was mind-numbingly, panty-wettingly sexy? It didn’t change the fact that he’d kidnapped her and tied her to his bed!
She was his captive, and she needed to remember that.
Eleven
The fork Zevris was holding clinked against the plate. “You need to eat, Tabitha.”
Tabitha kept her face turned away from him, trying to remain strong even though she felt a little like a kid throwing a tantrum after being told to eat her veggies. Though her means of resistance were limited at the moment—refuse to look at him, refuse to speak to him—she had to use whatever weapons she could in this battle.
But it was hard to ignore the mouth-watering aromas of buttery garlic steak, mashed potatoes, and cheesy broccoli.
Her alien had gone all out.
No. Not my alien.
Zevris growled. “I will tolerate neither the silent treatment nor the cold shoulder, female. And I will not remain idle while you make yourself suffer to spite me.”
As amusing as it was that an alien knew those terms, Tabitha didn’t allow it to show. She turned her face toward him, tilted her chin down, and gave him a look that said, What are you going to do about it?
Or at least that was what she hoped it said.
His dark brows were low, angled down toward the bridge of his nose, and his eyes were locked on her. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with a plate of food on his thigh and his tail laid beside him, its tip—with its tuft of black fur—flicking as though in agitation.
“This does not need to be unpleasant, Tabitha.”
Zevris’s expression also sent a clear message—Whether I end up feeding you or fucking you, I will have my way.
And it was equal parts thrilling and irritating that she knew either of those options would be far from unpleasant.
She pressed her lips together and looked back at the wall. It was at that moment that her stomach decided to growl.
Zevris caught her chin and turned her face back toward him. “I am aware that humans can survive for several weeks without food, but I will not allow you to reach anywhere near that point. You are hungry. You will eat.”
Tabitha clenched her jaw. A few missed meals weren’t a big deal. She could hold out for a few days, right? She could hold out until she either found a way to escape or convinced him that this was crazy, and he really ought to let her go…
But she already had that nauseous, hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, a wonderful addition to the discomfort of her sore, dry throat and raw wrists. She’d missed lunch today, having been too busy unpacking before Mia’s call—and now that she thought about it, she’d skipped breakfast, too. As much as it seemed like it should have, a cup of creamer with some coffee splashed in didn’t count as a meal.
She was hungry, and Zevris’s food looked and smelled delicious. Nan had taught Tabitha to cook years before, and Tabitha considered herself a pretty good cook, but when was the last time she’d had a real, home-cooked meal? When was the last time she’d taken that time for herself?
When was the last time anyone had done so for her?
Keeping hold of her chin, Zevris lifted the fork with his other hand, moving it toward her lips. The piece of steak impaled on the prongs was red and juicy, just the way she loved it. But she jerked her chin away.
“Tabitha…” Zevris’s voice was at once commanding and concerned, laced with both warning and desire.
How could anyone put so much feeling into saying a name?
“I’m not a baby, Zevris. I can feed myself.”
So much for the silent treatment, Tabby.
“Oh? Do you plan to hold the fork with your toes, female?”
She glared at him.
Zevris sighed. “The situation is not ideal. I am attempting to make light of it.”
“I can see how it’d be easier for you to joke about it. You’re not the one tied to a bed.”
He lowered the fork to the plate and ran a hand through his hair, producing a faint scratching sound. It took Tabitha a moment to realize that was the sound of his claws grazing his scalp.
“If you untie me, I’ll eat,” she said.
“Will you eat before or after you attempt to stab me with the fork?” he asked.
> She couldn’t tell whether he was being serious or teasing her. “I’m not going to stab you.”
Zevris stared at her for what felt like a long, long time, but it couldn’t have been for more than a few seconds. He seemed to be searching her, and there was a strange light in his eyes that almost seemed like a hint of…desperation.
Like he was desperate to trust her.
“Releasing you from the bindings does not mean you are free to go, Tabitha,” he said.
“I’m just asking you to untie me, Zevris. I’m sore and stiff, my arms hurt, and my hands have been asleep for a while now.”
His frown deepened. His gaze lingered on her for another moment before he turned and set the plate on the nightstand, beside the other plate he’d brought up—his meal, presumably, though the food was untouched.
Zevris turned back to her and climbed onto the bed, looming over her on his knees. It put his groin just below Tabitha’s eye level, and it took everything within her to stop herself from leaning forward and flicking her tongue across his toned abs. Unlike the bodybuilders she’d seen, Zevris wasn’t completely bare of hair. There was a nice, dark, happy little trail leading down from his navel that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants. She was eager to see what it led to.
His scent washed over her as he reached across to her arm. He settled his fingertips on her forearm and slid them up toward the binding around her wrist, and the tingling that trailed in their wake had nothing to do with her arm being asleep. That simple touch was the tender caress she’d always dreamed about, so gentle and yet so powerful that it stole her breath.
When he touched the restraint, it released her wrist abruptly. She hissed as her arm fell, but Zevris caught it and eased it down slowly. Her shoulder ached from the change in position.
Zevris brushed his thumb over the red skin that had been rubbed by the binding. “Ah, Tabitha. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
She watched as he continued to tenderly soothe her wrist. “I didn’t think it would have made much difference since let me go didn’t work.”
“You are my mate. I don’t want any harm to come to you,” he said, a hint of a growl in his voice. With his free hand, he released her other arm, his touch again gentle, his frown only deepening as he stroked the newly revealed raw flesh. “I had not realized your skin would be so delicate. I should have known better.”
Her heart clenched at the guilt and pain written upon his face. She shouldn’t have felt pity for him when he’d been the one to tie her to the bed. And yet…
She bit back the words she’d been tempted to speak to comfort him.
“Thank you,” she said instead, withdrawing her arms from his hold to bring her hands together and rub away the sharp, stabbing tingles assailing them.
He returned to his place, sitting on the edge of the bed facing her, but his gaze lingered on her wrists. She glanced down at them, too, subconsciously covering the irritated flesh as best she could. Zevris settled his big hand over hers. His palm was warm and rough, but his touch was still so light. His were practiced hands—the hands of a craftsman, of a soldier, strong and sure, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want them all over her.
“Look at me, Tabitha.”
She complied without thinking.
His face was hard, serious, and his frown remained firmly in place. “I have not earned your thanks. When I have given you pleasure, when I have given you security, when I have given you happiness, you may thank me.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks, but she arched a brow. “You’re still so sure.”
“I have never been more certain of anything.”
The way he was looking at her, the way his eyes glowed, it was getting harder and harder for Tabitha to convince herself he was wrong. In some ways, this almost felt like those moments that so often happened in movies—the intense stare that led into a passionate kiss.
She was definitely not ready for that.
Yet.
Tabitha tore her gaze away from his and twisted to the side, stretching her arm out to grab one of the glasses of water he’d placed on the nightstand with the plates. With her hand still regaining feeling, the glass nearly slipped from her grasp. She tightened her hold on it and brought it to her lips. The ice water instantly soothed her parched mouth and throat, so cold, refreshing, and delicious that she couldn’t stop. She drank like she’d just spent days trekking across a scorching desert.
Before she knew it, only the ice remained. The cubes clinked together as she lowered the glass.
She glanced aside to see Zevris still staring at her. Fortunately, some of the intensity in his gaze had been eased by the slight smirk on his lips.
She lowered the glass. “What?”
That smirk took on a roguish edge. “My female is even thirstier than I’d thought.”
Tabitha’s brows furrowed. “Did you just… Did you seriously…” She shook her head. “Nope, we’re not going there.”
“No, we aren’t. Not yet.” Zevris plucked the glass from her hand, leaned forward, and placed it on the nightstand. He picked up both plates and sat upright again, holding one to her. “But soon you will learn that I can quench your thirst and satisfy your every hunger.”
“Well, you certainly quenched my thirst—for water,” she said, taking the plate. She grabbed the fork with the piece of steak still attached to it and waved it at him. “And now, you are satisfying my hunger. For food. That’s as far as this goes.”
With what she hoped was a sense of finality, she brought the meat to her mouth, bit down on it, and slid it off the fork. The steak hit her tongue with an explosion of flavor that made her close her eyes and moan. She chewed, relishing the tender meat and its buttery garlic sauce, wanting the bite to last forever while simultaneously craving the next. She’d rarely had steak since moving out on her own—it was too expensive when you were on a budget—and she couldn’t recall ever eating one that tasted this good.
“Oh my God, how did you learn to cook like this?” She opened her eyes and was about to stab another piece of meat when she glanced up at him. Her hand froze.
His expression had softened, but his eyes were just as intent on her as ever—as though he were as invested in her reactions as she was in the taste of the food.
“The internet,” he replied. “I was not here long before I tired of preprepared food, and I feared the sodium content would kill me. That, and it seemed like knowing how to cook was a valued trait in a potential mate.”
Tabitha chuckled. “I thought the saying was that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I guess it works the other way around, too.”
She stilled, realizing what she’d said only after the words had been spoken.
“That the way to a man’s stomach is through his heart?” Zevris asked, frowning.
“Um, yeah. That.” She bit back her smile, though it was harder to do once the food was in her mouth.
Zevris settled his plate on his thigh and scooped up some mashed potatoes with his fork. “I’ve been able to puzzle out the meaning of many such phrases, but I think I’m missing something with this one.”
“It’s nothing. Why don’t you, uh, tell me what you do as a soldier?”
He narrowed his eyes, keeping them on her as he slipped the food into his mouth. His jaw—his perfect, stubbled jaw—worked as he chewed. “You’re evading. You realized some meaning to what you said that you hadn’t considered, and now you’re trying to shift my attention away from it.”
“I am not. I’m just enjoying this delicious food,” she said, taking another bite.
His eyes rounded for a moment, and he grinned, giving her another glimpse of those wicked fangs. “That’s what it is. Heart is figurative in that saying.” He leaned closer to her. “You were implying that you love my cooking, and that it would lead you to loving me.”
“You can think whatever you want. I admit nothing…except yes, I love your cooking. But only your cooking!”
&
nbsp; Zevris chuckled and leaned back again. He speared a chunk of meat and wagged his fork at her, much as she’d done to him before. “That’s a start.”
Tabitha watched him chew, studying the muscles of his square jaw, the strong tendons on his neck, and his bobbing Adam’s apple. Was there no part of him that she didn’t find appealing? She tore her gaze away and focused on her food.
After a few more bites, she stopped caring about etiquette and simply ate for the sake of filling her belly. It was only when a couple pieces of steak and a tiny pile of mashed potatoes remained that she set her fork down, unable to take another bite. She instinctively reached for her glass, having forgotten that she’d drank it all—but it was heavier than it should have been when she picked it up. Her brows creased as she looked at the glass to find it half full. A glance at Zevris’s glass, which was a little less than half full, filled in the blanks.
He’d poured some of his water into her glass without her noticing. As simple as a thing it was, it was also incredibly sweet and thoughtful.
“Are you finished eating?” Zevris asked.
She nodded as she brought the glass to her lips, drinking slower this time.
He took her plate, stacked it atop his own—which damn near looked like he’d licked it clean—and placed them on the nightstand. Tabitha watched him over the rim of her glass, unable to look away from the graceful play of muscles beneath his tanned skin.
How was he even real? How was any of this actually happening?
She set her glass down. Now that her hunger and thirst had been satisfied, there was another need making itself known, growing stronger by the moment. She glanced toward the bathroom door.
Taken By The Alien Next Door Page 13
