by Cara Bristol
Like a sapling with slender limbs that would sway in the breeze, she looked the way she walked—grace and poise rounding out any sharpness to her lean lines. She had small, high breasts and long legs I couldn’t wait to have wrapped around me.
“You are magnificent. I, mean, wow. You could be a male model,” she said.
“What would I model?”
“Clothing, sports equipment…romance novel book covers…” She stepped close. “For now, you can model for me…”
“I like the sound of that.” I leaned down and kissed her. I roved my hands over her body, touching all the places clothing had denied me. I could feel the grit of sand on her skin, so I walked us to the shower.
The spray streamed like a gentle rain from the circular heads. Our lips clung as we kissed, but water filled our mouths, and we sputtered and then laughed. Her eyes still dancing, Toni reached for a jar on a shelf. “Do you want to use my shampoo?”
“Is that soap?”
“Yes, for your hair.” She squeezed out some thick liquid onto her palm. “You’ll smell like a girl, though.”
“On Dakon, we make soap by boiling kel fat and ash.” I lifted her palm for a sniff. “Shampoo smells like you—much better than smoky, musky kel.”
“Oh, well, thank you, I guess.” Her lips twitched. “Let me do the honors.” She smeared the shampoo into my hair.
I ducked my head so she could reach better, and she massaged my scalp with slow, sensual circles that sent jets of pleasure through my body. My horns throbbed along with my manhood, and when her fingers rubbed the former, sending a burst of heat through my body, I couldn’t prevent a groan.
“Sensitive there?” Her bathing teased then, as she seemingly became unable to wash my hair without nudging my horns.
I rinsed my head under the shower and grabbed the special soap. “My turn.” I worked the lather over her crown, behind her ears, down the slope of her nape. If I’d hoped for sensuous revenge, it had backfired because watching the desire play out on her face and hearing her soft moans worsened my need.
I paused, and she opened her eyes, her heavy-lidded sultry gaze nearly undoing me. “Do you have a special soap for body washing?” My voice sounded hoarse.
“This one.” She handed me another bottle.
A familiar scent of flowers wafted up to my nose; I’d smelled the fragrance on her. After lathering my palms, I smoothed my hands over her body, beginning with her neck where her rapid pulse drummed. The curve of her shoulder drew my attention next. I frowned as my fingers moved over the bump on the back of her arm. It was about the size of the language implant embedded behind my ear. Why would she need a translator? And why was it located there?
“It’s a contraceptive,” she said, without my having to ask. “It prevents pregnancy and protects against STDs, sexually transmitted disease.”
“But what if we want to have a kit?” Spending time with her, loving her was foremost in my mind, but later? I very much desired to have kits with her.
“It can be removed when we’re ready, which reminds me, it’s due to be replaced in a couple of weeks. I can’t believe we’re talking about babies.”
“Don’t you want them?”
“Of course, I do. Do you?”
“Yes, but not too many, only five or six.” I worked my way down her body, fascinated by textures and curves.
“Six?” she squeaked.
“Is that not enough?”
“We should talk about this later,” she said.
I paid special attention to her breasts, cupping them and drawing gentle circles over the nipples. It was a natural progression to trace the indentation of her waist, the jut of her hip bones, the length of her thighs, before slipping my hands upward to explore the delicate folds of her womanhood. I found the center of her desire, and her breathy intake incited my own arousal into a spiral.
I braced her against the shower wall and kissed her. “Let me bring you, pleasure,” I whispered.
“But…you…what about…” Her face twisted with sexual heat.
“Bringing you pleasure will bring me pleasure.” I’d waited so long to find my female, I wanted to see her convulse in rapture without being clouded by my own ecstasy.
She acquiesced, her body going pliant.
Free to indulge, I submerged myself in the sexual delight of pleasing my female. Her gasps came like music, her contorted face beautiful in climax. I held her as she slumped against me, my own painful need pounding an insistent beat. My horns ached, and my manhood felt as if it would burst out of its skin, but I would withhold my own release a dozen times, a hundred times, to please her.
Toni buried her face against my shoulder and rubbed my back. Then she lifted her head and, with a glint in her eyes, said, “Let me.” She soaped her hands with sweet-smelling body shampoo and began to wash me.
Exquisite torture. My veins were already hot with desire, and her touch cranked the heat. Muscles tensed, tightening with the urgency for release. Every jerk of my body, every muttered curse widened her smile.
With her long, delicate fingers, she kneaded my shoulders before splaying her hands over my chest. She tweaked my nipples, sending unexpected pangs of lust straight to my groin. She grazed my abdomen, and I had only a moment to suck in a gasp of air before she seized my manhood, and my knees nearly gave out.
Cursing, I slapped my hands against the wet shower wall, grasping for balance, for control, for strength. My mate. Mine. The urge to possess her spiked painfully.
She wrapped her hands around my length and stroked, up and down, squeezing, sliding. Her thumb teased over my cockhead spreading the pre-essence over my flesh. My testes tightened when her fingers fondled my taut sac.
Too good. Too good. Too much.
I hauled her against me and covered her mouth with mine, crushing her lips in a desperate kiss. The shower had rinsed away all traces of soap, leaving nothing between us but sensation as our bodies moved against each other in a quest for release.
She squealed as I lifted her against the wall. I cupped her mound and slid a finger into her channel, groaning as wetness coated my hand. Not the shower, not soap—all her, for me. I teased her toward the peak until she pounded on my shoulder and begged and threatened, and then I pressed my manhood into her.
My mate. Mine.
She tightened around me, welcoming my thrusts, completing me. This is what was meant to be. Her. Me. Us. Forever. I would have traveled the infinite galaxy for her.
We fit together, two halves of a whole the Fates had separated then brought back together. Heat and tension burgeoned, sensation swelled, propelling me to thrust harder and faster. Toni cried out in rapture, her body convulsing, her channel contracting, and I couldn’t hold on any longer. I was consumed.
Chapter Seven
Toni
“I have a surprise for you.” I grabbed the remote, folded my legs under me, and snuggled up against Aton. “I didn’t watch the show when it first aired, but I think you might enjoy it.”
Since our first date a little over two weeks ago, every moment not working was spent with Aton. When we weren’t making love or cruising around New Los Angeles, we curled up on my living room sofa to watch movies and TV.
“I’m sure I’ll enjoy anything you have to show me,” he said.
Earth television and Internet vids fascinated him. Old movies, sports, game shows, cooking competitions, spaghetti westerns, cheesy B-movies, chick flicks, police dramas—he liked them all. However, he loved science fiction movies the best, although he thought they were comedies, and he laughed uproariously at the characterizations of alien life-forms.
“This one is special,” I hinted, drawing out the anticipation, trying to contain my own excitement. I’d been dying to show him the reality show ever since my assistant had suggested it. Megan felt terrible for having had Aton Tasered, and she’d been trying to make amends ever since.
“Cupcake?” I opened
the assortment pack I’d picked up from Your Just Desserts.
His eyes lit up. “I was hoping those were your sister’s cupcakes.” He selected a salted caramel. It was a coin toss what Aton enjoyed more: Earth vids or Earth desserts. Pies, tarts, cakes, cannolis, cookies, brownies, muffins, sundaes, candy—he loved all sweets, but he was particularly fond of the cupcakes from my sister’s bakery.
I clicked start. The show opened with a tight close-up of an attractive, but average-looking woman. “I’m Sunny Weathers.” She paused dramatically. “And there isn’t anything I won’t do for adventure.”
The camera pulled away to reveal her poised at the edge of a cliff. She flashed a wide smile and dove off the edge.
Aton gasped.
“She’s okay!” I said. “She’s base-jumping. She’s strapped into a harness. It’s all part of the reality show.”
The opening credits to Sunny Weathers’ Excellent Adventures rolled, showing snippets of her slapping at insects as she hiked through a jungle, shoveling out pens at a pig farm, being tackled by a dozen children in the ball pit at a pizza restaurant, skydiving, running a military basic training obstacle course, and in scuba gear, descending underwater in a cage as sharks circled.
Eyes wide, Aton riveted on the screen as the show’s final episode began with Sunny in “confessional.”
“Tomorrow, the SS Deception will land, and my fellow passengers and I will meet the Dakonians!” she spoke directly to the camera. “It’s been a long journey—we’ve been aboard the ship for almost three months. I’m excited and ready for the next stage of my life. I can’t wait to get my first glimpse of my alien mate!”
Aton pointed at the TV. “Dakon! My planet!”
“Uh-huh.” I grinned.
The episode cut away to Sunny and other women hiking through wind-driven snow to a large stone dome. A scattering of smaller structures horseshoed around it. Smoke wafted from the roof of the largest building, where the women were headed.
“That’s the Meeting Place,” Aton explained. “It’s the center of Dakon.”
I leaned forward. The buildings sat in a clearing, surrounded by dense forest. Trees stretched into the sky, their triangular leaves kind of green, but not. Hip-deep snow covered everything and blew in the women’s faces. I shivered, and Aton squeezed my shoulder, holding me closer against him.
Dramatic music played as males and females paired up, but there could be no question in any viewer’s mind Sunny Weathers and Darq would couple up together. Chemistry sizzled from the second they spotted each other. It seemed to be the same with the others, too.
Was there something special about the human/Dakonian dyad? Maybe our two species were meant to be together. Did Aton and I wear those goofy goo-goo-eyed grins? I glanced at him. He caught me looking, smiled, and pressed a kiss to my lips. My sister and Darak were embarrassing with their public displays of affection. Although I tried to maintain some decorum, in private, Aton and I couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Even after having sex, we touched one another constantly. I was so happy the Intergalactic Dating Agency’s original choice for me had panned out—I couldn’t envision being with anyone but Aton, couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect for me.
We watched the show, I just as rapt as he, wanting to see where he came from. Aton provided commentary, pointing out people he recognized, giving history to Dakonian customs.
We both gasped when Sunny was abducted by a man named Romando who had a beef against Darq. We both shouted, “No!” when the camera blanked out before we learned what had happened to her. Scrolling text explained how extreme low temperatures had caused a fatal camera malfunction, preventing the show from recording the rest.
“What a cliffhanger,” I said. “I had no idea the show ended that way.”
“I have to assume everything worked out for Sunny,” Aton said. “There aren’t many Earth females on Dakon. If something had happened to one of them, word would have gotten out, and I would have heard.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Thank you for showing me the vid. I enjoyed seeing my planet,” he said, his voice a little wistful. “Are there any others?”
I shook my head. “It’s only been a short while since Terra discovered Dakon. Sunny went there as a gimmick—a stunt—for the show, but fell in love and decided to stay.” I hoped Aton was right, and she’d been reunited with Darq. “Given that the electronics froze and crashed, I doubt other producers would even try to video there.” I rubbed his knee. “I’m sorry. Are you very homesick?” My intent had been to surprise him with a glimpse of his planet, not depress him.
He shook his head. “A little. It will pass.” He slid his hand under my hair to my nape. His thumb caressed my jawline. “I would go anywhere or do anything for you. You’re the most important thing to me. When I’m with you, nothing else matters.” His dark eyes turned intense.
“I feel the same way.” In us, I’d found a better me. We had clicked at the start and continued to click. We were so compatible, it was almost unreal. What were the odds a human from a technologically advanced society would find her perfect match with an alien from a primitive planet trapped in an ice age?
Jessie from the Intergalactic Dating Agency would cite our 100 percent score on its assessment as the reason. However, the better I got to know Aton, the less stock I put in the IDA’s testing. He was so caring, so loving, sexy, cute, funny, and so committed to our relationship. He was a sweet, hot guy who enjoyed cuddling, cupcakes, and watching movies. I saw no evidence of an inclination toward nonconformity or rule breaking—not unless you considered all the Dakonians nonconformists. You had to be adventurous to leave your planet and fly across the galaxy in search of love, didn’t you?
Nor could I forget the implication that I had a rebellious nature. Ridiculous.
All of which proved IDA test results were as accurate as a daily horoscope. “You will feel an urge to rebel and break the rules.” Let’s see. It’s been a week since we ran that one for Capricorn, so we’ll recycle it for Aquarius today.
“I can’t imagine how I got lucky enough to meet you.” I’d never dreamed I could be so happy, and good fortune had spilled over into the rest of my life. Work was going great; I’d won a couple of big cases I’d pegged as long shots. Even Phillip had backed off, acting cordial and professional when we encountered each other.
“Not luck—the Fates led us to one another.”
We did have one difference. He believed in supernatural “Fates,” which I placed on par with horoscopes and IDA testing results.
I lifted my chin, and he kissed me. Slow and gentle turned deep and urgent as desire heated up. The scrape of his chin, his exotic taste and smell, the pressure of his mouth, the caress of his tongue lit flames of need. I couldn’t get enough of this man. In the security and comfort of his arms, I discovered where I was supposed to be. I ached when he had to leave, every time I had to go to work. I counted every second we were apart.
We separated slowly, letting our lips linger. His warm breath caressed my face. I stared into his eyes, and drew a finger along his jaw. “Move in with me,” I said.
“Live here?” he asked.
“Why not?” Someone without romance in his or her soul might argue it was too soon to cohabitate. However, I understood his heart and mine—what other information did I need? “You’re here most of the time anyway.”
Technically, he lived with another Dakonian he’d met at an extraterrestrial dive bar called the Stellar Dust Bin. Rojak had been on Earth long enough to get himself established. I hadn’t met him, but Aton had mentioned him several times. It torqued me the IDA would fly aliens across the galaxy and dump them without a place to live. Thank goodness, Rojak had offered him a room.
The Dakonian had helped Aton locate me when the agency hadn’t even given him my address. I had expected more from the IDA. The next time I spoke to Jessie I would raise some of these issues.
“I would li
ke that very much.” He grinned. “My friend would like it, too. He and his female would prefer to have their hut all to themselves.”
“Then it’s settled!” I was so excited. “Tomorrow is Friday. After work, we’ll pick up your things.”
“There isn’t anything to pick up.”
“You have clothes.”
He plucked at his kel shirt. “I’m wearing them.”
“Your other clothes.” I’d seen him in jeans and T-shirts a few times. He’d looked hot. The black T-shirts had showed off his biceps and molded his pecs.
“My friend loaned me those so I could clean these. I didn’t have time to bring anything with me.”
“Are you saying you arrived with only the shirt on your back?”
“Of course not.” He laughed. “I wore leggings—and boots.” He lifted a foot from the ottoman.
“You’re joking, right?” I had to ask because due to language differences, Aton tended to take things literally.
“No.”
I gestured at his clothing. “This is all you brought with you?”
“Yes. Although we don’t have many possessions, I had packed a bag of clothing, but I had to leave it behind or I would have missed my chance to board the spaceship.”
“Why was that?”
My doorbell pealed—over and over, like somebody was leaning on it.
“Hold that thought.” I crossed the living room and yanked open the door.
A Dakonian stood on my step, his finger pressing on the buzzer. He released it, and flashed a dimpled, cheeky grin. “Hello, doll! Are you Antoinette Sutterman?”
Doll? Who said that anymore? “I’m Antoinette,” I emphasized my name. “Are you Rojak?”
“I’m Caid—your mate. The Intergalactic Dating Agency matched us.”
Chapter Eight
Aton
“Caid cannot be your mate! I am.” I stalked back and forth across the room.
Toni had dispatched the interloper before he and I could come to blows. What right did he have to show up and knock on her door? On Dakon, no one would dare to approach another man’s female—not unless he wanted to find himself facedown in the snow.
