by Tasha Black
“This was not strategic planning,” Burton pointed out.
“Gretchen and Clem Peterson aren’t exactly known for strategy,” Tansy said. “Their parents are okay, but Grandma Helen used to say Gretchen and Clem were not the sharpest knives in the drawer.”
“Which one was Clem?” Burton asked.
“The one with the gun,” Tansy said, confirming his suspicion that the thin man had been holding a weapon. “And the really big guy is Otis Rogers. He’s been in love with Gretchen since middle school. It’s unrequited.”
“That’s very sad,” Burton said softly, thinking of his own love for Tansy.
“I guess,” Tansy shrugged. “Can you put me down?”
Burton did not want to put her down. But he lowered her to the ground as gently as he could anyway.
She winced as soon as her left foot touched the grass.
“You are hurt,” he said. He swore her pain hurt him too.
“I guess so,” she agreed.
“May I carry you in?” he asked.
She nodded more quickly this time.
He lifted her into his arms again, every cell of his body celebrating her return. Their wet clothes warmed pleasantly between their bodies as he walked.
He made his way back to the farmhouse slowly, so as not to jostle her injured ankle.
The rain had been reduced to a drizzle, but it still felt good to step onto the porch. The Martins’ house was more than a shelter - it felt like home to him, though he had never spent a night under its roof.
He opened the door as quietly as he could and closed it behind them. There was the hum of the fans in the windows but otherwise the house was still.
As quietly as he could, he carried Tansy through the living room and down the hall to her bedroom. He knew it was Tansy’s room because of a carved wood sign bearing her name that hung over it.
He opened the door and was momentarily surprised.
“It’s different from the rest of the house, isn’t it?” Tansy whispered.
He nodded, taking it in.
The ceiling was vaulted, with wooden beams across it. The wood floor was painted gray like the front porch floor. Large windows flanked the bed.
“The original house was built in the 1800s,” Tansy explained. “But Grandpa Max built this addition in the nineties. He wanted a good place for Sage and me to stay when we visited, and a first-floor bedroom for him and Grandma Helen if they ever needed it.”
“It suits the house,” Burton said.
“Yes, he wanted it to still feel like a farmhouse, but brighter and more cheerful,” Tansy said with a fond smile.
“It suits you,” Burton said.
Tansy looked down. He could tell by the apples of her cheeks that she was pleased.
“I’m going to put you down on your bed, okay?” he asked. “Then I’ll get supplies to treat your ankle.”
“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Tansy said quickly.
He placed her gently on the edge of the bed.
She smiled up at him.
“I will get you some ice,” he told her. “What else will you need?”
“Ice would be great,” she agreed. “Nothing else.”
Everything about the moment was perfect, down to the soft sound of the rain outside, and the gentle smile on his mate’s face.
Burton tore himself from her and headed back to the kitchen, hoping the mood would remain long enough for him to tend to her hurt ankle before asking her a very important question.
9
Burton
Burton returned to Tansy’s room with a plastic bag of ice wrapped in a towel. If Earth movies had taught him anything, it was that this was the proper remedy for hurt ankles.
He hesitated before knocking on the door.
On the one hand, it was very bad manners to enter a closed door without a knock. On the other, it was late at night and he did not wish to wake the rest of the house.
He settled for a light tap.
“Come in,” Tansy called out softly.
He opened the door as quietly as he could then closed it behind him.
Tansy perched on the edge of the bed where he had left her. The black tank top she was wearing was wet enough to cling to her magnificent curves and her damp hair looked darker and shinier than ever. Maybe it was the exercise of dashing through the field, but her cheeks were flushed pink.
She smiled at him and he felt his heart might stop beating altogether.
He went to her and knelt at her feet.
“You brought ice,” she whispered.
“I did,” he told her.
He lifted the ice to her ankle and held it gently in place.
“Oh, that feels good,” she purred.
He nearly groaned with need for her. He was dying to make her feel good, so good.
A tendril of corn silk clung to her wet hair.
He reached for it without thinking and plucked it out.
Tansy caught her breath.
“Sorry, I was just…” he couldn’t finish the sentence.
She leaned toward him, her eyes luminous.
He longed to give in to his temptation, but there was something important he had to ask her.
Using self-restraint he didn’t know he had, he managed to lean back.
“Tansy Martin, you are an incredible woman,” he told her carefully.
“Thank you,” she said, looking a little taken aback.
“You are brave and kind,” he continued. “There is no woman on this world or any other that I would choose for my mate but you. Will you accept me as your mate?”
She blinked at him.
“I know this custom may seem strange to you, but it is the highest honor one being may bestow upon another in my culture,” he explained gently. “I offer you my unconditional partnership and adoration. If you agree to accept, it will be my privilege to protect and pleasure you for the rest of your life.”
“You want me to be your mate?” Her voice wavered.
“I want that very much,” he assured her.
He knew she had feelings for him as well, but she looked uncertain.
“Were you not aware of my intention?” he asked, troubled that he had not done a good job of showing her how he felt.
“I like you, Burton,” she said. “I like you a lot.”
“That is a good beginning,” he told her.
“But I’m worried about my family right now,” she went on. “I need to concentrate on saving the farm.”
““You are bound by your duty to protect this place,” he said. Duty was a concept he was very familiar with.
“Exactly.” She sounded relieved.
“I understand, Tansy,” he told her solemnly. “Your loyalty to your ancestral home is one of your qualities I admire most. I will wait for my answer until your duty to your family has been satisfied. I will be patient for as long as it takes for you to resolve the trouble here at the farm and decide if you want me for your mate.”
“Th-thank you,” she said.
And he could see by the look in her eyes that she was maybe just a little disappointed.
“Do you not wish for me to wait?” he asked, hoping he had managed to keep the pain from his voice.
“No, I-it’s nothing…” she said.
Her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips and the truth hit him like a fire-tailed comet.
She desired him as he did her.
Satisfaction surged in his chest.
“Tansy, I cannot mate with you until you accept me,” he told her, his voice rough with need. “But I would like to hold you and kiss you if you would allow it.”
She looked down and her lashes brushed her cheeks.
Tansy was always so fierce. Her sudden shyness made him feel tender.
“Tansy,” he whispered.
She looked up at him and tilted her chin up in invitation.
Burton cupped her cheek in his hand and leaned in slowly.
He was afraid that she would
stop him and also afraid that she would allow him to continue.
He would die if he didn’t kiss her.
He would die if did.
But Tansy held her ground and waited for him.
Her mouth was so soft and sweet.
Tansy made a tiny sound of contentment as he pressed his lips to hers.
The responding surge in his body had him groaning against her mouth.
Being this close to her was incredible. He could smell the light fragrance that was her shampoo and the more exciting scent that he thought of as Tansy herself.
He thumbed her jaw open like the men in the movies did and was rewarded with the taste of her velvety tongue.
Tansy twined her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts to his chest.
Pleasure coursed through his veins and he nearly forgot how to breathe as he took in the sensation of her against him.
Tansy slid her hands down his shoulders to stroke his biceps.
He flexed his arms instinctively and she gasped.
When he pulled away from the kiss she was giggling.
“Why are you laughing?” he whispered.
“Your muscles are huge,” she whispered back, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Are they funny?” he asked.
“No, not at all,” she said. “I’m laughing because… well, it’s kind of like making out with a movie star or something.”
“You like my muscles?” he asked, feeling pleased with himself.
She nodded.
He stood, placed the ice he had been holding against her ankle on the bedside table.
Then he slowly peeled his t-shirt over his head. He wondered if his body would have its intended effect on his mate.
When he looked down at her she was gazing at him open-mouthed.
“Wow,” she said. “You’re… amazing.”
“I have done nothing to earn your admiration,” he reminded her. “My form was designed by a biological architect to please you.”
“My compliments to the chef,” Tansy breathed.
Burton smiled down at her.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“I’m happy that you are pleased,” he said.
“Well, don’t go hoping that my form was designed by an architect,” she said. “My body is the product of farm work, the freshman fifteen, and my sister’s excellent cooking. I hope you won’t be disappointed.”
“Nothing about you could ever disappoint me,” he murmured.
She rolled her eyes.
“Why did you roll your eyes?” he asked.
She laughed, and a thought occurred to him.
“If you don’t believe me, please show me your body, so that I may demonstrate my lack of disappointment,” he offered.
Tansy’s eyes flashed and he waited to see if she was offended or if she would rise to the challenge.
She stood suddenly, bearing most of her weight on her uninjured foot.
He thought to comment on the fact that her foot seemed to be feeling better, but the notion was forgotten as she peeled her wet shirt over her head and then her shorts down to her ankles.
Burton clenched his fists to stop himself from going over the edge.
Tansy straightened and stood in front of him wearing nothing but a lacy black bra and panties. The ebony frills made a delicious contrast against her milky skin.
She was strong and proud, not a waif with frizzy clouds of hair covering the oversized parts of her naked form like the women in the movies he had been asked to watch at the lab.
Tansy’s sleek tresses barely kissed her shoulders, leaving the rest of her exposed for him to admire.
There was something majestic about the way she stood before him. -Burton tried to memorize every curve and every muscle that wasn’t covered by those two scraps of fabric.
And there was something else adorning her skin, a beautiful pattern in inky black that began on her ribcage and extended around her waist.
“Lie down,” he told her roughly.
She gave him a cocky half smile, turned her back to him and crawled into her bed, giving him a heart stopping view of her round bottom.
He closed his eyes and prayed for the strength to give her what she needed without taking his own pleasure. He had certainly watched enough videos at the lab to understand the mechanics of what might please her.
But somehow having the piquant form of the very real woman he loved laid out on the bed before him was completely different.
He crawled in after her, covering her body with his own, caging her head between his arms.
10
Tansy
Tansy lay back against the pillow.
Burton held her pinned to the bed. His hard, hot body felt incredible against her.
She wondered fleetingly if a woman could have a premature orgasm.
Then he was kissing her, his tongue stroking hers, hips pressing so that she could feel the hard, hot length of him throbbing against her belly.
She sank her nails into his arms, arching herself up to him as he tangled her hair in one big hand and kissed his way down her jaw to the tender place where her shoulder met her neck.
Tansy trembled and tried to soak it all in, the tickly sensation of his rough jaw against her sensitive skin, the masculine scent of him, the taste of him still on her lips.
He let go of her hair to cup one of her breasts. Tansy felt her nipple swell against the scratchy lace. He released the front clasp of her bra with a flick of his fingers and peeled back the cups.
“Oh, god, Tansy,” he groaned.
She looked down at him, his impossibly handsome face taut with need as he gazed at her breasts.
She closed her eyes.
Instantly she felt something warm and wet on her right nipple. The pleasure was so acute she nearly shot off the bed.
“Is that okay?” he whispered.
“Yes,” she whined, arching up for more.
He fell on her breasts again, licking and sucking, and gently nibbling until she was moaning and gripping the sheets. Burton trailed kisses lower, tickling her belly, then lower still.
Tansy froze.
She had never liked having a man kiss her that way. She was self-conscious and they never seemed to know what to do there anyway.
Burton nuzzled her thighs, urging her legs apart.
Tansy was surprised to find that his hot breath against the tender skin of her inner thighs made her toes curl.
When he slid his fingers under the waistband of her panties she lifted her hips to help him remove them.
A small voice in her head tried to remind her that she didn’t like this kind of thing, to tell her that she wasn’t interested in a relationship, didn’t want to be a spokesmodel for intergalactic dating.
But the voice was drowned in a tsunami of desire.
Tansy leaned up on her elbows to watch him press her thighs apart, and lower his face to her sex.
He gazed down at her for a moment almost reverently.
Then his mouth was on her and she let her head fall back against the pillow.
Burton had certainly never done this before. She knew this intellectually. But he seemed to instinctively understand her body.
He licked her slowly, bringing her nearly to the edge and then cruelly beginning again without ever touching the tiny bud that throbbed helplessly for his attention.
Tansy lost herself to her own need, whimpering and panting.
Burton groaned and slid a finger against her opening, pressing gently.
Tansy lifted her hips to meet him, desperate to have some part of him inside her.
“Oh, Tansy,” he moaned as his finger sank into her depths.
“Ahh,” she whined, her whole body taut and ready.
Burton licked around his finger slowly.
“Please,” Tansy cried. “Please, please, please.”
He sucked her throbbing clitoris, flicking it with his tongue as he worked the finger inside her.
At last the ecstasy faded and the sounds of the room invaded her consciousness once more - the rain on the roof, her own heartbeat in her ears, and Burton’s rough breath.
She held her arms out to him.
He crawled up to her, studying her with serious eyes.
“That was amazing,” she told him, wishing she could remember any better words to describe what he had just made her feel. They seemed to have been chased from her head and all she was aware of was him.
“Yes,” he said, smiling down at her.
He leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead.
“Thank you,” he told her, lying down beside her.
He opened his arms, inviting her to rest on his chest.
She couldn’t resist the invitation, though she knew he must be desperate for her to reciprocate.
She settled into the crook of his neck and began to stroke his incredible abs.
Burton shifted uncomfortably.
She slid her hand downward, looking forward to making him more comfortable, but he caught her wrist in his hand.
“Tansy, we can’t do that - I can’t,” he told her.
“But don’t you want me to —?” she began.
“Not until you choose me for your mate,” he told her gently. “Until then, I’m not sure what would happen if I experience a climax at your hands. I’m not willing to risk claiming you without your consent.”
“Oh, Burton,” Tansy said, feeling terrible for him. “I’m so sorry. We never should have done that.”
“I am not sorry,” he told her. His deep voice was growly. “I adore you, Tansy. I’m so grateful that you allowed me to pleasure you.”
Tansy closed her eyes and pressed her face against his chest, surprised at her own emotion.
“Sleep now, my love,” Burton advised.
And though she thought the wonder of what had just happened between them would never allow her to sleep, she drifted off quickly to the beat of his heart and the sound of the rain on the roof.
