Kwarq (Lyqa Planet Lovers Book 1)

by Clarke, Nikki

I step out of the room and train one of my ears to the hall. The doorbell rings out again, making me jump. When after a few seconds, nothing happens still, I start making my way down the hall, hoping she doesn’t leave before I can get to it. Why has no one answered? Did everyone leave? Where’s Kwarq?

  It takes me some time to find my way to the main house. I was tired and unfocused when Kwarq led me through the house last night. I make a couple of wrong turns before I finally see the front hall. The ornate wooden door is taller and heavier than I remember. I stand in front of it just as the bell sounds again. I can hear the high pitched yelps of the woman’s pet on the other side.

  “Shit.”

  I don’t really like Earth pets on a good day. I’m not sure I’m ready to have an alien dog jumping all over me.

  “Uh, can you leave your pet outside?”

  I make sure my voice is loud enough to hear through the door. Although if the woman is Lyqa, I’m sure she can hear me. The yelping stops abruptly. I wait for some kind of confirmation that I won't open the door only to have some scaled chihuahua start gnawing on my leg.

  “Kwarq?”

  The voice is soft and musical. The pitch is almost child-like in its delicacy.

  “Uh, no, I’m his uh—his friend. Hold on.”

  I turn around helplessly, hoping to see someone coming down the hall to deal with this. The foyer behind me is empty. I look back at the door and listen. I don’t hear the animal. In fact, it’s almost too quiet. Thinking, she may have left, I risk it and pull on the heavy door latch. It swings open, lighter than it looks. It wasn’t even locked.

  I only open it a crack. A wet sounding sniff draws my eyes down to where a set of large, wide eyes start up at me. I get that uncomfortable feeling of wrongness when I realize the eyes of this animal are strangely human. Its little black nose is wet, and its tiny slit of a mouth o’s as it looks up at me.

  “Kwarq?”

  My eyes jump from the scaly dog and meet the confused gaze of a Lyqa woman.

  Large, mono-lidded, startlingly blue eyes, fringed with thick, dark lashes stare back at me. Her round, tawny face is framed by a mass of long, black springy curls that hang over her shoulders.

  Like all Lyqas, she’s tall. I have to tilt my head a bit to look at her, and I end up taking a step back to see her more comfortably.

  As soon as I move, she steps into the space I’ve vacated and slides into the house. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that her pet stays on the step outside and close the door, turning to the woman who’s standing well into the hallway now.

  She’s kind of stunning. Now that I can see all of her, I’m a little taken aback by how pretty she is. The thin bandeau top she’s wearing shows off her lean, toned shoulders and sculpted stomach. Her boobs are small and perky beneath the scrap of material. Loose yoga pants sit low on hips that flair out in a graceful curve from her itty bitty waist. I tug on the end of Kwarq’s shirt, which covers most of my three-day stubble legs. I don’t like this chick, but I can’t even be enough of a hater to pretend like she isn’t nearly perfect.

  We stare at each other, both of us not knowing what to do, but both also clearly checking the other out.

  “Kwarq?”

  Seriously, is that the only word she knows? What does she think if she keeps saying his name, he’s just going to magically appear? I want to say, ‘I get it, you’re looking for my man,’ but I don’t because of course she’s looking for him. I mean, of course she is.

  “Um, let me see if I can find someone for you.”

  I raise my hands in front of me, pushing them out in the sign for her to stay put. I’m not sure what guest etiquette is on this planet, and I hope that I’m not being rude. Well, I kind of hope I’m not being rude.

  The woman’s eyes flicker down to my hands and she frowns, taking a quick step toward me. I take a step back. Whoa. She moved in that fast, creepy Lyqa way. My back hits the door, and she stops, looking more confused.

  “Yeah, let me get someone for you.”

  I skirt around her, and she turns with me, watching as I scuttle from the hall to the living room. It’s empty. I look back, and I’m only half surprised to see that she’s followed me. Okay. She clearly doesn’t understand a word I’m saying. Maybe she thinks I’m leading her to Kwarq. I don’t need to know who she is to know this is about to be awkward as hell.

  When I reach the kitchen, I’m relieved to see Kwarq standing behind a long island in the middle of the room.

  His tall frame is bent over the island, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He doesn’t look up when I enter. Steam hovers from several pots behind him, and his usually straight, thick hair is damp and curled adorably over his forehead. His dark brown brows huddle in concentration.

  My gaze lingers on the muscles of his forearms. They bunch and roll beneath his skin as he spoons food from a pot. Savory smells fill the large space, and I forget for a moment about our house guest and focus on the plate of food Kwarq is serving. I’m starving.

  “Kwarq, babe, someone is he—“

  “Kwarq! Ma’ah lani!” I feel a gust of air as the woman rushes past me. She moves quickly. So quick I worry she’s going to knock into him, but to my surprise, he turns with and catches the woman just as she flings herself against his chest. His arms go around her back, and she leaps up, wrapping her legs around his waist, squealing and pressing her forehead and nose to his.

  “Uh…” I’m not really sure what to do. I don’t know if Kwarq even realizes I’m here. The woman murmurs softly in Lyqa as her fingers comb through Kwarq’s beard. This is weird.

  I shift my eyes around the room like I expect to see a camera crew jump out at any second to tell me this is some big Lyqa joke. I imagine a bunch of tall, Lyqa teenagers in a backwards trucker hats, leaping from the bead covered entrance to the pantry, high-five-ing each other and yelling that I’ve just been ‘punq-ed.’ I mean, I really hope this is a joke or the Lyqa way of greeting one’s sister. A really creepy, incesty way of greeting one’s sister.

  Yeah, it’s not. The woman finally pulls away from him and immediately leans in to press her lips to his. Kwarq jumps a bit, but then presses into the deep, passion-filled kiss. I get a glimpse of gray, swirling tongues between their mouths. I keep waiting for him to jerk away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he moves one hand to her back and holds her still against him.

  My breath quickens as embarrassment and hurt fill me. I’m so stupid. Of course I would run off to some alien planet with a hot alien dude whose weird, heart problem has decided I’m his soulmate. Only to find out that lehti is really just Lyqa for side chick.

  The sloppy sound of saliva signals the end of their kiss. Kwarq presses his forehead to the woman’s for a brief second again, a deep, satisfied sigh issuing from him, before he finally lets her slide down his body.

  I realize I probably should have done something by now, but my brain doesn’t seem to be working in it’s usual mode. Instead of being consumed by the desire to turn this kitchen into an episode of The Jerry Springer Show, I’m suddenly just really hungry.

  I pick up the plate of food that’s been abandoned on the counter. I assume it’s for me, but even if it’s not, I’m taking it. Just because I’ve realized I’m being played, doesn’t mean I have to starve. And I am really really hungry. Like hungrier than I’ve ever been in my life. It feels like a living sensation in my body. I suddenly want to eat everything.

  “I, uh, I’m just going to take this and leave you two alone.”

  Finally, Kwarq looks over to me. His eyes flare almost in panic, and I’m not sure if he’s freaking out because I’ve busted him face fucking his presumed girlfriend or if he thinks I’m going to flip the fuck out like I should be doing. I should be flipping the fuck out. And also, there’s a broccoli looking pile of vegetables on the plate that’s dripping with a sauce I can’t wait to taste.

  “Amina.”

  I raise my eyes slowly from the dark, red sauce to meet his bright yellow gaze. “Yu
p, it’s me. I’m here.”

  His eyes flicker quickly over my face. I can barely even look at him, but I also can’t look away. My gaze keeps straying to his arms. Just seeing that bit of muscled flesh makes me think of how broad and hard his chest was above me when we made love last night. How his arms held me close while he moved so deeply inside of me. Now his arm is wrapped around the Lyqa woman’s waist, and I hate that I can still only think that he’s fine as hell. And there is a pile of root vegetables on the plate that calling my name.

  “Lehti, I would explai—”

  I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll just take this back. That is unless you two are going to need the room. You look like you need a room.”

  This sad little quip is the only bit of shade I can muster at the moment.

  “There are many rooms in the house we can use. You do not have to leave,” Kwarq replies seriously, and my moment of triumph is cut short.

  “Right. Well, have fun,” I snark out and stomp out of the kitchen.

  Chapter 18

  Amina

  I walk quickly through the living room, kicking aside cushions as I go, and down the hall. With every step, I listen for the sound of Kwarq coming to get me, but he doesn’t. Not even when I sigh dramatically and mumble something about cheating ass fuckbois under my breath. I know he heard that shit.

  After a few minutes of making wrong turns, I finally make it back to his apartments. I hate the sense of humiliation crawling through my body. My hands shake as I set the plate down on the table next to the baby basket. I stare at it, feeling my humiliation intensify the longer I look at the items I was so charmed by earlier.

  Anger slashes through my hunger, and I lash out, slapping the basket to the floor. The various items tumble out and roll a few feet away. The beautiful, blue gown lands near my foot. I snatch it up and throw it as far away from me as I can then turn to my plate of food.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should be more concerned with the fact that Kwarq is probable giving that long-legged, Halle Berry-looking Lyqa bitch the D somewhere in this house, but the moment the smell of the food hits my nose, it’s like I’m in instinct mode.

  Everything on the plate is a vegetable. They’re roasted and stewed and seasoned with various sauces. Some are covered in a dark glaze. The pile of large pea-type things is smothered in a thick yellow cream. I reach for one of these first and plop it into my mouth with my fingers. I didn’t even get utensils. I don’t care. An image of Kwarq lifting that woman onto the island before burying his face between her long legs flashes in my mind just as the sweet, slightly spicy taste of the pea explodes in my mouth.

  “Mm!”

  I sound like a commercial. My eyes close and my head drops back in pleasure. This. Is. Delicious. Like friggin finger licking good. And since I also don’t have a napkin, that’s just what I do. I drag my tongue up my thumb to catch all of the sauce that’s dripped down my hand. I suck shamelessly at my fingers, making sure to get all of the sauce. I don’t care. I’m eating for three.

  Right. I’m eating for three, and I have a babies’ father who was just tonguing down his girlfriend or wife or lover or some shit in the kitchen.

  “Tiani isn’t going to believe this shit,” I mumble to myself as I reach for one of the glazed roots.

  I visibly shiver when it hits my tongue. It’s tangy, almost like balsamic vinegar. There is also something herby about it. I love it. I eat three more of the carrot type things in quick succession then run my tongue across my lips to catch a bit of dripping juice.

  “Oh my god, this is delicious!”

  “I have never enjoyed anything my brother has cooked that much.”

  I don’t even flinch when I hear Ah’dan’s annoyingly smooth voice sound out from behind me. I turn, never stopping my hand as it shovels another piece of food into my mouth.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “You are.”

  I only spare him the slightest glance before turning back to my plate. His arms cross over his chest, and an indulgent smile pulls at his mouth. He moves in the corner of my eye and then settles across the table from me. He has to set aside several items that fell from the baby basket. He frowns and leans to one hip, pulling a rattle from beneath him before tossing it onto one of the pillows.

  “Who’s Tiani?”

  I frown and then remember that these people have hearing so good I’m surprised they can’t hear my thoughts.

  “My sister.”

  “She is on Earth?” He sounds interested. More interested than I’ve ever heard him sound. I don’t care. These Lyqa carrots are amazing.

  “Yup.”

  “Is she beautiful?”

  “Yup.”

  “Hm. Tiani,” he says it slowly, dragging out the syllables. “I like that name.”

  I nod and shove a handful of peas between my lips.

  “What is a fuck-boy?”

  I sputter, nearly choking on my mouthful. I clear my throat and manage to swallow the lump down. It travels painfully along my esophagus, making me wince. Of course he heard that. But now I know that if he heard it, that means Kwarq also heard it and chose not to come after me.

  “Your brother.”

  Ah’dan smiles and reaches for a piece of food from my plate. I quell the urge to slap his hand away. I’m ravenous not rude, but still I can’t help the feeling of loss as I watch him toss the carrot into his mouth and begin to chew. That could have been in my belly.

  “Because he fucks you?”

  I sputter again. Is he trying to kill me?

  “What?”

  “Last night.”

  When my eyes widen, he sighs deeply, like I bore him with my insistence on being shocked about this whole privacy thing.

  “Even if I was not trying to listen, no one in this house is deaf, my sa’aih,” he says matter of factly.

  I want to be embarrassed, but clearly, Kwarq banging girls out in this house isn’t news. My heart thumps in my chest when I imagine what sounds Ah’dan can hear coming from wherever Kwarq and that woman are. In this moment, I’m supremely glad I’m human, even if the masochist in me strains just a little to see if I hear any moans or other indications of a dickdown.

  “Why are you sad, Amina?”

  I’ve stopped eating. I’m holding a long, stringy green at my mouth. I fold it onto my tongue but find that my earlier insatiability is gone. I’m actually kind of over food. The realization is so sudden that I spit the green into my hand and place it back on the plate, not caring if it’s gross or impolite. Ah’dan, however doesn’t bat an eye. He’s trained on my face as he waits for my response.

  I shrug and look around for something to wipe my hands on. One of the baby blankets is on the floor nearby. I consider using it, but then find that as hurt as I am, I don’t want to ruin any of the stuff I got for the baby. Babies, I correct myself.

  “I’m not sad, Ah’dan. Just a little homesick, I think. I’m probably going to see about getting back home today.”

  “You are not going to stay for the birth?”

  I don’t meet his eyes. I focus instead on wiping my hands on the hem of Kwarq’s shirt that I’m wearing. I’m not as reluctant to mess up his shit. I actually feel a slight bit of satisfaction when the juice from my hands stains dark on the white fabric.

  “Well, I was only staying for tonight anyway. I just came for the, uh, procedure, but I guess since I’m doing this, there’s no reason for me to be here anymore. I have a life back home, and Kwarq has a life here. It’s a little awkward, you know?”

  “I do not.”

  Of course he doesn’t. This whole Kwarq has a hot girlfriend and pregnant human baby mama business seems to only be strange to me.

  “Let’s just say where I come from, it’s not necessarily a normal thing for a woman to just hang around with a man and his side chick.”

  Ah’dan frowns further, and I already know what he’s going to ask.

  “What is a side chick?”


  I roll my eyes. Why am I having this conversation while Kwarq is probably down the hall getting swirly, grey-tongued, Lyqa head from that woman?

  “It’s the woman who’s not the wife or girlfriend of a man. A woman he sees on the side, usually behind his wife or girlfriend’s back.”

  “Li’aht is not Kwarq’s side chick.”

  Li’aht. The way he says the name makes it sound lovely. Now I hate that chick even more.

  “I know. I was talking about me.”

  Again that frown. “You are his lehti.”

  I roll my eyes again. It’s like we’re exchanging these two expressions. He frowns. I roll my eyes. We probably look ridiculous.

  “So I’ve been told, but I just don’t think that means what I thought it did.”

  “And that is why you are sad?”

  “I’m—not—sad.” The words are squeezed through the tight clamp of my teeth. I wish he would stop asking me questions.

  “You smell sad. It is sour like swamp water. I would have you smell sweet like you do when you are laughing.”

  I try to smile. I don’t know how to deal with sweet Ah’dan. Sweet Ah’dan is throwing me off. “Yeah, well, I haven’t had a bath today so…”

  His mouth turns down. He tilts his head to the side and regards me.

  “You smell of my brother. That is not the sour smell, but perhaps you would like to have a bath? Maybe it will help to relieve your sorrow.”

  “Oh my god, I’m not sad!” This comes out as a frustrated shout right before my eyes blur, and I burst into tears. I’m not sad. I’m really not.

  I hear Ah’dan shift before I feel him sit beside me and pull me into his lap.

  “You do not have to be sad, my sa’aih.”

  “I’m really not sad. I’m not. It’s just the pregnancy hormones.”

  My tears begin to fall with earnest, and the sobs that croak from my throat are ugly and loud in the quiet of the room. Ah’dan pulls me closer. I feel his mouth press into my hair as he begins to rub slow circles over my back.