“I am not attracted to men,” Finch bit out. Glaring at Pixie, he shook his finger, “Tell her that I am not attracted to men.”
“C’mon, Finch, it’s just us girls. No need to hide who you truly are. We’ll love you no matter what.” Pixie had to bite her lip at the end of her words to hold back the smile that wanted to break out on her face.
“You are both evil,” Finch said, shaking his head at the two women. “Evil.” Sitting back in the chair, he ran his hands through his hair in exasperation.
“Who is evil and why does Finch look like he wants to kill someone?” Wheaton’s voice came from the doorway. His presence had gone unnoticed as the women had been too focused on teasing their friend.
“We didn’t do anything.” The words came from both sisters in unison. “Pinch. Poke. You owe me a coke.”
“What does that even mean?” Finch asked as he stood up and started to move toward the door.
“What? You’re not staying for dinner?” Poppy asked as if offended that he would make his escape so quickly after Wheaton arrived home.
“No, I am not staying for dinner. You are slowly driving me insane,” Finch bit out as he collected his bag from the hook on the wall. Turning tired eyes to Wheaton, he apologized. “I am sorry, my friend. Your wife has the ability to make me insane trying to keep up with her speech after only a few hours. Add in her sister and I am done for the day. I need a sparring session in the rec area before I explode.”
“That’s not nice, Finch. I can’t believe you don’t want to even stay to eat.”
“Poppy, I do not even understand how you can think of the evening meal right now. You have been consuming food items off and on the entire day. You should not even have the ability to physically add more food to your stomach from what I have seen you eat already.” Finch shook his head at her, his eyes slightly wide.
“Now that was just plain mean!” Poppy’s feathers were well and truly ruffled by now.
Pixie put her hand over her mouth to contain her amusement. This was like watching a soap opera. Both sisters had always been able to entertain themselves with teasing their friends or each other. Sometimes the person on the end of their attention didn’t know what to make of the pair until they had been subjected to them a few times.
“Finch, have a good night.” Wheaton dismissed his friend with a smile and a nod. Ignoring the fact that Poppy was pissed, he walked over to give her a hug.
“Finch called me fat and you didn’t even say anything.” Poppy held herself out from his hug with her arms stiff.
“He did not call you fat,” Wheaton replied rolling his eyes.
“I am growing a baby alien, dammit!” Poppy griped as she snuggled into his hug.
“Oh Jesus, here we go again.” Pixie let her head fall back onto the couch and closed her eyes.
“Well I am.”
“And we are gonna hear about it daily.” Watching the pair of lovebirds holding each other in the center of the room, Pixie pointed her finger at her sister. “All I gotta say is thank God this pregnancy is on fast forward. I swear you get meaner with every day that passes.”
“I am growing a baby alien!” Poppy repeated, quieting down as Wheaton started to pepper kisses on the top of her head.
“Exactly.” Pixie let her eyes close with that final word. This was going to be one long freaking pregnancy, no matter how fast it went.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I’ll be fine, you guys,” Pixie said for the fourth time in a matter of minutes.
“There will be a guard arriving to stand at the door shortly,” Wheaton replied as he tapped at the screen beside Pixie’s apartment door.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to just hang out for a little bit? Wheaton said Dathrow will only be another hour or so,” Poppy asked again.
Pixie put her hand on her sister’s back, steering her toward the door. “Seriously, Pops. If you ask that one more time, I may slit your throat. I’ll be totally fine by myself for an hour.”
“I just remember being alone when I got here and I know I hated it. If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure,” Pixie said shortly.
“You don’t have to be such a bish about it! I’m trying to be nice,” Poppy snapped out before her eyes teared up.
“Oh Jesus, the alien baby strikes again.” Pixie stepped back to what she assumed was a safe distance. “Wheaton, you may need to check with the docs and see if the mood swings are supposed to be this bad. She goes from Care Bear to Hitler in five seconds.”
“See! You’re being a bish again.” Poppy walked to hug her sister. “But I love you anyway.”
Wiping her nose with an ever-present tissue, Poppy walked to the door. “Are you coming or not?”
Wheaton jumped when he realized his wife was talking to him. “I was unsure what was happening,” he said, confused.
“We’re blowing this pop stand. Pix can take care of herself for an hour. She’s not a baby.”
“Yeah, Wheaton. Duh,” Pixie teased as she enjoyed the range of emotions flowing across Wheaton’s face.
“Pixie, sometimes we’re assholes,” Poppy pointed out as she and Wheaton started to walk through the door.
“I know, but it’s just too fun to give up,” Pixie yelled before the door swished closed.
Turning around in the apartment, Pixie propped her hands on her hips. Now what was she going to do to keep busy? Thinking for a moment, she decided to go ahead and organize their bedroom. Her clothes were still mostly stored in her bags even though Dathrow had shown her how to open the closet.
After storing her clothes in the space Dathrow had saved for her, Pixie inspected the Fresher Dathrow had briefly shown her a few days before. The small piece of technology blew her mind. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought it was just another small closet space. Dathrow had explained you hung up your dirty clothes in it and once it sealed shut, it cleaned them for you. Like a small magical dry cleaner built into the wall. These aliens had it made. No waiting on a washer and dryer to run through multiple cycles and then letting clothes sit in the dryer for a few days. People would pay through the nose for this type of technology on Earth. The amount of time and hassle it saved was priceless. Taking a few items out of the Fresher, Pixie sniffed the clean clothing. It was so strange how there seemed to be no smell on anything on the ship. Even the clean clothes were devoid of a scent. For someone who constantly had candles burning and used smelly stuff for laundry detergent, it seemed so odd to experience such a sterile environment.
After finishing her organization of the bedroom, Pixie checked the time on the message center by the door. She had another fifteen minutes or so before Dathrow should be home. Flopping down on the couch, she grabbed the remote for the video system. Might as well go through some more of the movies while she had the free time.
Sorting files by date, Pixie moved items never viewed into one folder to go through later. There were about thirty of them she could put off for another time. If Dathrow had never watched them, then they couldn’t be that important.
As she was clicking and moving through the different titles and sorting them by category, she heard the tone at the door. Standing up, ready to jump Dathrow the minute he came into the door, Pixie waited. It felt as if she hadn’t seen him for days instead of just this morning.
As the door swished open, Pixie smiled big at Dathrow as he broke out into a grin at her welcome. No matter how tired he was, he still managed to be one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen.
Walking into his open arms, Pixie wrapped her arms around his waist. Hugging him tight, she tucked her chin into his chest and surrendered to the strength of his embrace. There was simply no better feeling than this.
“Is everything all right?” Dathrow’s voice tickled her ear as it vibrated his chest.
“Yeah, I just missed you today.” Leaning back so she could look at his face, Pixie stared into his eyes.
“I am sorry that I wa
s not able to take a longer leave from my duties. I requested to have a few days off once the prisoners are transferred to the mining planet.”
“So a delayed honeymoon?” Pixie asked. “That sounds good.”
“Yes, but until then we will need to be patient with my duties.” Dathrow let out a tired sigh. “No matter how frustrating they are.”
Pixie reluctantly let him go so he could move farther into their apartment. After setting down his bag, he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Any new leads from the informant?” Pixie asked as she moved to the kitchen to start their dinner.
“Some.” Dathrow stood in front of the counter, leaning against the stark white slab. “He says one thing and yet does another.”
“What do you mean?” Pixie slid the plate filled with lasagna over to him on the counter.
Fiddling with his fork, Dathrow paused before speaking. “We were told he wanted to speak this morning and give information, yet when we arrived he would not answer the questions asked. I do not trust the information he has given and I worry he may have a plan for something far worse.”
“What does the council say?” Pixie chewed her food slowly, the taste of it now sitting like a lead weight in her stomach.
“They believe that we hold all the control when it comes to the prisoners.”
“But you don’t?”
“It is not that.” Setting his fork down, Dathrow pushed his food away. “This entire situation has not felt right since it began. The Verge warriors who were captured did not fight to the death but instead allowed themselves to be captured. That is not the Phaeton way.”
“But they aren’t Phaeton any longer…”
Dathrow’s frustrated growl cut Pixie off before she could go any further.
“They were raised as Phaeton. When it comes to combat we are bred to fight until we are no longer able to move. These warriors put their weapons down and surrendered… There is something about it that is peculiar. A part of me is saying that this was all part of their plan.” Dathrow ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands.
“They’re locked up, right?”
“Yes, and they are also isolated from each other.”
“Dath…I don’t know what to say. It sounds like they’re being watched and wouldn’t be able to do much even if they had a plan. I mean, it’s not like they weren’t searched before they went into their cells, right?” Pixie pointed out.
“Correct.” Dathrow’s shoulders slumped as he answered her.
“So there really isn’t anything else you can do except question them and wait for their transfer to the mining planet.”
Walking around the counter, Pixie put her arm around Dathrow’s waist, hoping the contact would comfort him.
“You have a point.” Turning in her arms, Dathrow pulled her close. Rubbing his large hand up and down her back, he rocked slightly, the movement obviously calming him.
“You seem beat. Let’s go to bed early tonight,” Pixie offered.
“I am sorry, sweet one. I wanted to have some time for us tonight but it seems as though I am unable to let go of my day.” Dathrow tugged her hand until she followed him into the bedroom.
“It’s okay. There’ll be days we bring home work sometimes.” Pixie started pulling off her clothes as Dathrow did the same on the other side of the bed. “I would rather you talk to me about this stuff instead of keeping it to yourself.”
“Truly?” Dathrow moved their discarded clothing to the Fresher and placed the items inside.
“Hell yes.” Pulling the covers back, Pixie climbed into bed naked, the chill of the sheets making her shiver slightly. “I don’t want you to ever keep things from me. If it bothers you, then talk to me about it and we can try to work it out together.”
Dathrow moved toward the bed. Even though their actions since entering the room had been mundane, seeing her alien husband nude made her tingle. His cock, although limp, lay heavily against his muscled thigh. Its length and weight was still a substantial sight to see.
“Come here.” Pixie held the covers open for him to slide close to her.
“You smell so good,” Dathrow whispered as he nuzzled her neck, his legs tangling with hers on the bed.
“So do you,” Pixie answered, her voice husky. Meeting his eyes, she knew he was too exhausted to do more than snuggle tonight. “Let me play with your hair while you relax.”
“Play with my hair?” Dathrow’s voice had a hint of a smile to it even though she couldn’t see his face where he was resting his head at her breasts.
“You’ve probably never had your hair played with. That’s a crying shame, sweetie. It’s one of the reasons why I like going to the salon so much back home. Getting my hair washed and then a scalp massage from my favorite stylist is worth every penny.”
Dathrow wrapped his arms around her waist, moving until his body was lower on her chest before settling his head more comfortably on her chest. “Is this all right?”
“Perfect.” Moving her hand up to his soft hair, Pixie marveled at the silky texture as she let her fingers drift through the strands. “Just relax, babe.”
Only a few moments had passed before Pixie could feel Dathrow’s breathing even out. The long, steady pull of his lungs created a calming rhythm against her own body. Lightly scratching at his scalp, she let the movements continue for a while before simply cupping the back of his head. As she reveled in his closeness, an uneasy feeling overtook her. Dathrow was worried something was going to happen. That much had been apparent after their talk tonight.
Pixie knew one thing. No matter what happened, there was nowhere else she would rather be.
* * * * *
Pixie woke to a heavy weight spread over her body as Dathrow slept halfway on top of her. The feeling was not unwelcome; just not something she was accustomed to.
Moving slowly to avoid waking him, she squirmed until she’d freed the majority of her body from his embrace. Before she could completely move out from underneath him, he started to wake.
“Good morning,” Pixie whispered as he blinked his eyes open, looking around.
“How long did we sleep?” Dathrow’s groggy voice was rough with sleep.
“From the glow of the walls, it’s probably mid-morning.” Pixie pointed her finger toward the opposite wall.
One thing that had amazed her when she first arrived on the ship was that the walls in the bedroom changed color depending on the time of day. Almost like one of those fancy alarm clocks that slowly brightened the later it got. It sure as hell beat the blaring buzz of her old alarm clock back home.
Dathrow sat up, the sheets falling to his waist as he stretched. With his arms reached up toward the ceiling, the movement of muscles in his torso caused Pixie’s mouth to water.
“I am surprised I have not been summoned yet.” Dathrow scooted off the bed, oblivious to the fact that he basically had a horny wife drooling over his body.
“Your band isn’t—” Pixie started, but cut off her sentence when the lights started blinking. “I spoke too soon.”
Smiling wryly from her place on the bed, Pixie watched as Dathrow moved around the bedroom. Pulling a fresh tunic and pants from the closet, he tossed them onto the end of the bed.
“Want to join me in the shower?”
The husky question from Dathrow caused Pixie to meet his eyes. As he’d been gathering his items for the day, she’d noticed he was half-hard. Figuring it was better to ignore his arousal versus causing him to be late, she’d kept her mouth shut. She glimpsed the wicked glint in his eyes and couldn’t seem to move from the bed fast enough. Almost tripping over the sheets as she scrambled off the mattress, Pixie grabbed his hand and started hustling him toward the door.
“What is the rush?” Dathrow asked, laughing.
“I don’t want your band to start buzzing before we get the party started!” Pixie said quickly as she hit the button to get the water warming. “Are we both gonna fit in here?”
“We may need to be close, but I do not think it will be a problem,” Dathrow groaned out as he moved his body to curve over hers from behind. With just enough space between them, Dathrow smacked his open palm down on the soft cheek of her ass, the slight sting making her bounce up onto her toes. Pushing his now-rigid erection into the small of her back, he reached forward and roughly squeezed her breasts. Moving his fingers together, he caught the tips of her nipples between her fingers. The slight pinch caused the nubs to harden further as they stiffened in arousal. Pixie felt goose bumps spread across her skin.
“That feels so good.” Arching back to rub into him like a feline, Pixie stroked herself against him as much as she could while seeing if the water was warm enough for them.
“C’mon.” Pixie stepped over the threshold of the shower pod and moved back enough to allow him to join her. She held out her hand to help him into the shower. Instead of grabbing his hand, however, Pixie gripped his cock to pull him forward.
A rumbling groan came from deep with Dathrow’s chest as soon as her palm made contact with his stiff member.
“Pixie.” Dathrow’s voice was short with need as he said her name.
“Sorry,” Pixie murmured as she used her ‘‘handle” to pull him close as her fingers slid on the fluid already dripping from the swollen head.
Dathrow lowered his head and his mouth devoured hers. His hands went to her hair to pull and tug the strands that were starting to drip with water. Palms cupped, he pushed her hair back from her face and slicked it away. Gathering the mass into his grip at the back of her neck, he tugged her head back, allowing him access to the vulnerable arch of her neck.
“Your hair…it is shorter.”
“I wondered when you would notice,” Pixie said, the words coming out slightly garbled as she moaned when his teeth scraped the skin behind her ear.
“I am sorry. I was distracted last night.” Pulling away from her, Dathrow stared into her eyes. The guilt she saw reflected there hurt her heart.
Warriors of Phaeton: Dathrow (Bridal Pact) Page 21
