Distant Desires: Part 3

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Distant Desires: Part 3 Page 3

by Cambria Hebert


  I smiled, my eyes drifting closed. “I’m attached to you, too,” I murmured.

  I felt him smile against the top of my head. “Go to sleep, Sophie. You’re tired.” He began dragging his fingers through my hair.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” I murmured, already slipping into slumber.

  “I’ll be here.” He promised.

  I slept so soundly that when I opened my eyes, I was shocked to see sun streaming through the bedroom window. I rolled over and glanced at the clock, my eyes still partially blurred from sleep. But once I noted the time, my eyes shot open when I saw I only had an hour before my class started.

  With a groan, I stretched a little. Awareness swept through my body as I remembered exactly how I spent last night. In Tarek’s arms. I smiled a little knowing he was the reason I slept so well.

  I glanced over my shoulder, peeking through my hair, but the bed was empty. He wasn’t here. Before I could think the worst, I heard a muffled noise in the kitchen, and I smiled. His T-shirt was lying at the foot of the bed so I pulled it over my naked body, enjoying the way it smelled just like him, and wandered out into the kitchen.

  He was standing there with nothing on but a pair of tight gray boxers. The muscles in his back were well defined and his waist tapered into his tight ass, which I knew from experience was total muscle.

  Tarek must have sensed me because he turned from the counter, giving me a full-on view of his incredible body.

  Like, seriously. He could be an underwear model. And yes, his hair was still perfect.

  “I was going to bring you in some juice and breakfast,” he said, a glass of orange juice in his hand.

  I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t like orange juice. It makes my stomach upset.” I didn’t even know I had that stuff in my fridge.

  Without turning away, he reached behind him and produced an identical clear glass like the one he was holding, only this one didn’t have OJ in it. This one was filled with apple juice. “This one is yours,” he said with a little smirk.

  I didn’t ask him how he knew this was the only thing I could tolerate the first few weeks after I found out I was pregnant, because I already knew. He’d been watching me from afar.

  I liked him up close much better.

  I padded over before him to reach out for the juice. Tarek snatched it away, setting it on the counter, and then pulled me into his arms. He wrapped me in a bear hug, not squeezing too tight, and then pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

  Before I could get over the surprise, he lifted me and sat me on the counter, placing the glass in my hand.

  “I made you breakfast,” he said.

  “You can cook?” I marveled, sipping the sweet juice.

  “I’ve been sitting in my hovercraft for a long time. I watched a lot of American TV to get a feel for your kind.” He shrugged. “My favorite channel was the one where they cooked all the time.”

  “If you keep cooking in your boxers, I’ll eat anything you make,” I quipped.

  He flashed me a brilliant smile and then dumped some scrambled egg whites out of a pan and onto a plate that already contained whole wheat toast.

  “Where did you get all this food?” I asked. “I know for a fact I didn’t have any wheat bread in there.”

  He grunted. “I went to the store before you got up. You had nothing but junk in your cupboards.”

  “Did not,” I said, snatching the toast and taking a bite. It was lightly buttered and it melted onto my tongue.

  “White bread and Pop-tarts are not healthy for you or my child.”

  I sighed dramatically. “But they taste good.”

  “Drink your glass of sugar and be glad I poured it for you,” he said, making a plate for himself. His was piled much higher.

  “How dare you insult my juice,” I said in mock anger.

  “You amuse me,” he said, a little smirk playing on his lips. “I’ve never known anyone who talks with such animation.”

  He made his planet sound absolutely horrible.

  “Stick with me,” I said, setting aside the juice and reaching for his arm to draw him closer.

  He slipped readily between my legs, leaning against the counter, close to me.

  “I’ll teach you my ways,” I purred, running my fingers over his rock-hard abs with a little shiver.

  Tarek lowered his head and kissed me. It was a gentle kiss with just enough heat that I sighed and leaned forward, wanting more. My lips parted on a satisfied sigh as I gripped his sides, reveling in the way he felt.

  But before I could get carried away, he pulled back. “Your breakfast is getting cold.”

  I scowled at him as he lifted me off the counter and placed me on the floor, swatting at my bottom so I would move toward the little bistro table in the corner. There was a banana beside my plate, and I picked it up, peeled it, and took a bite.

  “Tarek?” I asked around a bite of fruit.

  “Yes?” he said, sitting across from me with his plate.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked. “Earth, I mean.”

  “Several years.”

  “You’ve been in your hovercraft this entire time?”

  “Mostly.” He agreed. “I’ve been around your planet, visiting various places, researching the climate, human nature, and just learning about your kind.”

  “Have you always been alone?” I asked.

  “Rarely.” I watched as he took a huge bite of eggs.

  “But your hovercraft was always empty when I was there.”

  “Not that first time. That first time, others were there. They were just in other compartments of the craft.”

  “But the other times?” I asked, tilting my head.

  “The other times I wanted to be alone with you.”

  I smiled and reached across the table for his hand. At first, he didn’t seem to understand what I wanted, but then he slid his hand toward mine and I grasped it, giving him another smile.

  “You humans like to touch,” he said, not pulling away.

  “Only the people we really like, though.”

  “I could get used to it.”

  A fluttery sensation filled my middle. At first I thought it was just butterflies, but then I realized it was the baby. “He’s moving,” I told him, my voice hushed, as if the baby might stop if I spoke too loud.

  Tarek abandoned his plate and my hand and came around the table. Carefully, he slid out my chair and sank down before me. His hand trembled out over my middle and he looked at me for permission.

  “You don’t have to ask to touch me,” I said.

  His palm covered my belly and then stilled. Tarek sat there waiting, a veil of concentration over his features. I willed the baby to move, wanting Tarek to be able to feel what he clearly was hoping for.

  A few moments later, there was a soft kick to the center of his palm.

  His eyes widened and he glanced up at me. “Did you feel that?” he asked, wonder in his tone.

  I nodded.

  My cell phone began to ring from over on the kitchen counter. Tarek stiffened and glanced in its direction. I patted the hand resting on my middle. “It’s just my phone.”

  After unhooking it from the charger, I answered. “Hey, Mom,” I said into the receiver. I felt a little pang of guilt because I hadn’t been to see them in several weeks. I hadn’t been ready to tell them about the baby.

  I felt Tarek’s eyes on me as Mom and I talked for a moment, and I turned to stare at him.

  “Shouldn’t you be on your way to class?” Mom asked, snapping me out of it.

  I had completely forgotten about class. I’d been too wrapped up in Tarek and his underwear-clad, egg-making self. “I’m sort of skipping,” I said into the line.

  “Sophie.” Mom warned.

  “It’s just this one time.” I lied. I wasn’t a constant skipper, but this wasn’t my first time either. “Hey,” I said, changing the subject quickly. “I was wondering if you and Dad would be home later. I thou
ght I might come by. I wanted to talk.”

  “Is everything okay?” she asked, suspicion in her tone.

  “Yes,” I said, my gaze still lingering on Tarek. He seemed to be able to hear my conversation with her and was listening intently.

  “How about you come for dinner, then?” she suggested.

  I pulled the phone away from my chin and gazed at Tarek, a question in my eyes.

  Slowly, he nodded.

  “That would be great, Mom,” I said, lifting the phone back to my ear. “Would it be okay if I bring someone? I’d like to introduce you.”

  “Is that why you’ve been scarce lately?” Mom asked, her voice taking on a new tone. “Do you have a new boyfriend?”

  Tarek stiffened a little, proving he could hear the entire conversation.

  “I’ll be by about five,” I said quickly. “I’m getting another call! See you then.” I clicked the phone off and dropped it on the counter.

  “If you aren’t comfortable going to my parents’ tonight, I can go alone,” I said, letting him off the hook. I imagined he had to be overwhelmed with basically becoming a part of the human world. I knew he’d been here for years, but I didn’t think he’d actually interacted with many humans.

  “Do they know about the baby?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. “I’m going to tell them. I’m showing. I can’t hide it anymore.”

  “And it will be easier if I am there?”

  I thought for a moment. “I don’t think it will be easy at all. But…” I began, not wanting to sound like I was demanding anything, but not knowing how else to say it. I shook my head, unable to finish my sentence.

  “Sophie?” Tarek asked.

  “I don’t know what we’re doing.” The words rushed out quietly. I stared at the floor, not wanting to see the look on his face.

  “Eating?” he questioned.

  I laughed, the worst of my tension evaporating. I looked at him, new confidence finding its way inside me. “This,” I said, motioning between us. “I know you don’t really have relationships where you’re from. That you all are, like, singular or whatever.”

  “But that isn’t how it is here,” he supplied.

  “No.” I shook my head. “It isn’t.” I sighed. “You said you want to stay here. You want to be here with me. What does that mean, Tarek? If you come with me tonight, my parents will assume we are involved, that you’re my boyfriend. They might even want to know if we’re getting married.”

  His eyes widened a bit.

  “Do you know what marriage is?” I asked, flustered.

  He nodded. “I’ve been here long enough to know your customs.”

  “People at the bar are going to want to know about us.” I lifted my eyes. “I want to know about us.”

  “You’re upset,” he said, getting up from the table and standing before me. “I don’t like it.”

  I smiled a little. I loved how literal he was.

  “What do you want, Sophie?” he whispered, taking my hand.

  “I want to call you my boyfriend. I want to be in a relationship with you. The kind where everyone knows we’re together.”

  “I want that too,” he said simply.

  “You do?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  My elation was short-lived because part of me whispered that he had no idea what he was saying.

  He grasped my face and held it so he could look straight into my eyes. I had to struggle to listen because being this close to his hypnotic amethyst glance was distracting. “I understand what I’m saying,” he murmured. “I’ve been here long enough to know.”

  Knowing and being were two different things.

  I didn’t say it out loud. I couldn’t bring myself to. Tarek was basically giving me everything I wanted. I wasn’t going to doubt it all to death.

  “‘Kay,” I said.

  He kissed me, then pulled back. “You’re missing class today?”

  I nodded. “I wanna be with you. But after today, I have to go to school and work.”

  He brushed the hair back away from my face. “Did you sleep well last night?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “You aren’t tired today?” Tarek stepped a little closer to me, pressing his body up against mine. I realized then what he was really asking. The hardness jutting from beneath his boxer briefs made it quite clear.

  I smiled. “I’m not too tired for you.”

  “I like touching you, Sophie,” he whispered.

  I took his hand and led him back to the bedroom. “Lucky for you, I like it too.”

  the visitor

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  I

  don’t know how it happened. How Tarek seamlessly fit into my life. How could someone who was literally not of this Earth belong here so completely? I thought it would be a difficult adjustment for him, and for me. I thought we would get strange looks out in public, that my parents would boycott my relationship with him

  It wasn’t. We didn’t. My parents loved him.

  Of course, there was the initial shock that people always displayed when I announced I was pregnant and showed off the baby bump with more fitted shirts. And sure, some people did whisper behind me, but I hadn’t expected less because this was a small town and up until this point, I’d been single and not seen with anyone.

  But not anymore.

  Tarek was like a permanent fixture at my side. His pale skin, purple eyes, and accent were not regarded as freaky or even unnerving. Women drooled over him, followed him with their eyes, and tried to flirt when I wasn’t looking.

  I was always looking, though. Not because I was insecure. Frankly, I wasn’t. Tarek never once gave me a single reason to think his devotion to me and his baby was anything but one hundred percent. In fact, I’d heard him tell women he wasn’t interested more than once. No, I looked because his body was like a magnet for my eyes. His voice was like a siren in the middle of a darkened sea. Not only that, but I loved to see people react to him, to be taken in the same way I always was.

  His accent was panty melting. And the smile he flashed more and more frequently was enough to rob everyone of their voice.

  Even men liked him. Tarek wasn’t a fake person. I don’t think he knew how to be. Even in a place where one would think he would do everything humanly possible to fit in, he didn’t. He was himself. Always. He gave his opinion when asked for it, he didn’t sugarcoat his words, and he treated everyone with respect.

  Frankly, I was beginning to wish more humans acted like him.

  Of course, he didn’t use his telekinesis around others, he certainly didn’t tell people where he was from, and if he didn’t understand something about our culture, he waited to ask me about it when we were alone.

  Three months passed. Three months of holding hands at the movie theater, of waking up in his warm embrace, and three months of falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

  I couldn’t deny it. The way I felt about Tarek literally leaked from every pore on my body. I loved him fiercely, like I never thought I’d love anyone.

  It was the kind of love that scared me.

  It didn’t matter how often he smiled at me, touched me, or made love to me (like a ton), there was always this little nagging fear deep inside me that once this baby came, things would change.

  I knew Tarek cared about me because emotion was so new to him he couldn’t hide it. But did he care enough? I had to remind myself that Tarek wasn’t human. He was a Sapien. He’d been a Sapien his entire life, and I knew the Sapiens wanted this baby.

  I worried that after the baby was born, his people would put his loyalty to them to the test. That they would force him to choose between them and me.

  I was afraid I would lose.

  I was afraid he would try and take my son.

  I couldn’t imagine my life without my son and Tarek.

  I didn’t bring it up. I never asked him about it. I never pressured him. I simply tried to love him enough. Enough to
make him stay. I know, that sounded whacked. In any other situation, I would tell myself I was ridiculous and if he didn’t want to stay, then I didn’t need him anyway.

  But this was different.

  Tarek was different.

  He still saw the other Sapiens that were here. He met with them when I was at work or at school. He never told me what they talked about; he didn’t act like it was a big deal. But sometimes… sometimes he would get this look in his eyes. The purple would darken to an almost black shade, and I knew there was more going on beneath the surface.

  What did he talk about with them? What did they want?

  Tarek told me he just passed along information about this planet and its people. That he was acting as sort of an informant since he was immersing himself in our way of life. But I knew there was more to it.

  The closer I got to my due date, the more concerned I grew. There was going to come a day when I was going to have to ask him. When he was going to have to choose. Sometimes I told myself I was just being paranoid. That there was no underlying struggle going on and the other Sapiens were fine with the fact Tarek was here and staying with me and the baby.

  It was hard to lie to myself.

  It was Friday night. The bar was busy. I was exhausted.

  Tarek wasn’t happy I came to work tonight. He seemed to think my place was on the couch or in bed. I didn’t admit (out loud) that either of those places sounded heavenly after a day of college classes. Usually, I didn’t take classes in the summer, but I was super close to finishing my graphic design degree, and I wanted to get done before the baby arrived. In just a couple short weeks, I would be finished with my bachelor’s and I could hopefully get a better job that didn’t involve serving beer to a bunch of guys.

  Did I mention it was hot?

  Yeah, it was like an oven inside the bar. One would think that going back and forth from the deck outside might give me a little bit of a break. It didn’t. Summer was in full swing here in Maryland, and the last week or so had felt unbearably hot. Especially to a woman who felt like she was going to burst at any moment. At seven months pregnant, I knew I had a month left (according to my doctor here, I had two months left and I didn’t bother to inform him that non-human babies came early), but even knowing my son wasn’t making an appearance for several weeks, I still felt restless and uncomfortable.

 

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