by Lynn Best
“Try mine,” she said, coiling a fork full of noodles.
He leaned forward, opening his mouth to take in the pasta. She watched him suck the noodles in and chew, wiping cream from his chin. Eating could be sexual, and she was having that feeling now, watching him eat. He was so strikingly handsome with his angular features and high cheekbones. He reminded her of a more muscular Jon Stamos. She’d had a thing for Uncle Jesse from Full House when she was a teen. Maybe that was why she was finding herself leaning closer, elbows on the table.
“Good?” she asked when he was done chewing.
Nodding, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “But that’s enough eating.”
After he stood, he walked around the table, took her arm, and pulled her up. Shocked, Brandy didn’t know how to react. But he didn’t wait. He swept her into his arms, drew her close, and pressed his mouth to hers.
It happened so fast. His hard body was against hers, one hand on her back and the other in her hair. His mouth was urgent, kissing and sucking, his tongue trying to pry her lips apart. It was all too sudden. She pushed against him, trying to extract herself from his embrace.
“What are you doing?” she asked when her lips were free.
He frowned. “What you wanted me to do.”
“What? I never—”
“You were practically begging for it.” He said it with such confidence she laughed. His eyes narrowed angrily.
“Listen, Drake, we were having a nice time until you nearly sucked my face off. What’s so wrong with a little dinner? A little conversation?”
“You aren’t here for conversation.” He let her go, stepping back. His voice was a growl again.
“See, that’s your problem right there. You think that sex is all a woman needs. It’s not true. Human women like sex, but they also like to be talked to, listened to. They like to be wooed and asked about their day.”
He frowned. “How was your day?”
“Shitty,” she said with a sad laugh. “I’m stuck on a ship with a bunch of alien guys who only wanted me because they thought I was someone else, and now they want me because they think it will piss off Han. Oh, and to pump out a bunch of babies!” She returned to the table and slumped into her chair.
Drake stood where he was, staring at her. “What do I ask about now?”
She held out her hands in a frustrated gesture. “If I have to tell you, it doesn’t count.”
“What doesn’t count?”
“Never mind.” Stabbing a bite of food from her plate, she put it in her mouth. She chewed in a very unattractive fashion. At least food could make her feel better.
Drake sat heavily in his chair. For a while, he watched her eat. Then he picked up his own fork and knife and began to finish his meal.
“Is our ship like Han’s?” he asked, his voice tentative.
Brandy finished chewing and took a sip of wine. She needed gallons if she was going to make it through this date. “Your ship is a lot like Han’s, but his is white and yours is purplish. The layout is mainly the same. Oh, and as far as I know, Han has never thrown a guest into one of his prison cells.”
His gaze snapped back to her. “So you’ve never done anything you regret?”
She met his gaze, the comment stinging. As a prostitute, she’d done hundreds of things she regretted. Hell, most of her life was just one big list of regrets. “I’ve never tried to kill anyone.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill you.”
“Then what exactly were you trying to do?”
Drake turned his gaze away.
“Fine, don’t talk to me. We don’t need to get to know each other. That’s not an important part of a relationship.” Brandy huffed, realizing how futile this all seemed. She couldn’t wait until Han called back to see how she was fairing so she could tell him she wanted the hell off this ship.
“I don’t want to talk about me. Talk about you,” Drake said, gesturing to her. “What is Earth like?”
“Earth in general? It’s big, blue, and green.”
He frowned, folding down dark eyebrows. “What was your life like?”
Brandy shrugged, feeling the uncomfortable well of emotions bubble up. “My life on Earth was complicated.”
“What does that mean? Complicated?” His eyes bore into her like he really did want to know.
She took another sip of her wine. The first glass was buzzing through her veins nicely, but she needed more if she was going to tell Drake about her childhood. “I grew up as an only child. My mother tried hard to take care of me, but she had her own problems. When I was eighteen, I moved out on my own and started working.”
“It must’ve been a shock when you woke up in Han’s transport ship.”
“You’re not kidding,” she said with a laugh. “One minute I was waiting for a ride behind the Venetian, and then next I was waking up in a room with Bram staring down at me. It took him half an hour to get me to calm down enough to listen to what he had to say.”
“And what did he say to make you want to stay?” Drake leaned in, his expensive suit stretching over his muscles.
Her eyes rested on his hands, the ones she knew were very different in his true form. It would be like wearing a Halloween costume twenty-four-seven. What kind of toll did it take on these men? She stared into Drake’s eyes, thinking that, of all the things that changed, the person deep inside didn’t.
“Bram didn’t say anything to make me stay.” She glanced at her nearly empty plate. “They gave me something more important than what I had waiting for me on Earth.”
“And what was that?”
She tilted her chin. “A family.”
“You need a family?”
She smiled wryly. “Yes, a family that trusts and doesn’t lie—that listens and takes the feelings of the others into consideration.”
Drake’s eyes darted away. “You make it sound so easy. It’s not. Families are complicated. They do things to piss you off. Families mess up.”
“Right. And then you forgive them because they’re family.”
He returned his gaze to her face, seeming to consider what she said. But then, Drake stood, dropping his napkin on the table and showing her his back. “This is a waste of time.”
“Drake.”
But he didn’t turn. He strode out of the room without a backward glance.
9
Drake shut the door, leaving her stuck inside. Why were the men on this ship always doing that to her? Power trips.
It was at least an hour later when the wall opened and Tork appeared.
“Hey,” she said, sitting up from where she’d been slumped over the table, sucking the last drops of wine directly from the bottle. She set it down with a thunk and straightened her top.
“Liquid lunch?” he asked.
She shrugged.
Tork raised an eyebrow, surveying the room. “Was this Drake’s idea of romance or yours?”
“Drake set this up,” she said, gesturing around the room. “But it’s not bad.”
Tork’s eyebrow rose higher. “If you love Hallmark ads and inject episodes of Lifetime movies directly into your veins.”
“How do you know about the Hallmark channel?” she asked.
He shrugged. “We get cable.”
“So, you’re saying this is cliché?” she asked.
He gave her a look that said—Do I even need to say it?
“You can do better?” she asked, her hand on her hip.
“Can and will. Let’s go.” He turned and started walking out of the room.
She had to jog to keep up with him.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she finally reached him.
He continued with his relentless pace. “Do you ask everyone this many questions?”
“No.” Jesus, he was a jerk. What had she done to make him so mad at her? “I only ask these many questions when I’ve been, I don’t know, abducted and kept a prisoner on an alien ship!”
“It’s up ahead.”<
br />
The room he led her to was already open and created, making her wonder if he had this plan all along. What was going on with the other two while she was cavorting with the third brother? Had Drake given up on claiming her first after their failed date?
But the scene cleared her head of any questions. Tork had created a spectacular view. The ground was a rocky terrain, flecked with mountain grasses and tall pines clinging to sheer cliff faces. They stood on an outcropping, one of the most beautiful valleys she’d ever seen stretched out below. Straight out of a painting, the ledges plunged down to a sun-dappled trees, waterfalls, and grassy plains. A river meandered through. Birdsong filled the air.
She smiled, shifting toward Tork. “This way,” he said, taking off up the path without seeing if she was coming.
Boy, he knew how to ruin the mood.
She took off after him, climbing the path up the side of the mountain as fast as she could. After only a few minutes, she was gasping and her thighs were screaming. Tork seemed to have no issue. He trekked up the path, easily avoiding roots that tripped her feet. And he certainly didn’t stop to take in the view or check on how she was doing.
She tried her best to keep up and not complain, but when she twisted her ankle on loose rocks and pitched forward, striking her hand on a bolder, she cried out.
Lifting the injured hand, she winced. Blood trailed down her palm.
“What happened?” Tork said, skidding back down.
“I fell.” She sat heavily on the boulder, gripping her bleeding hand.
He grabbed it, examining the injury. “You’ll live. Let’s keep moving.”
Brandy stared up at him with cold eyes. “Why are you so mad at me? What did I do to you?”
He flashed her a dark look, but then his eyes landed on her bloody hand. Sitting beside her, he ripped off one of his sleeves, took her injured palm, and began wrapping it up. “What would the others say if I brought you back, all banged up? Are you trying to get me in trouble?” But his voice had lost its edge. And his touch was gentle. He wrapped the fabric around, securing it with a knot on the back of her hand.
“You ripped your shirt,” she said, pointing to his now-bare arm that showed off his tattoos.
He shrugged, reached over, and ripped off the other sleeve so both sides matched.
She held her palm like a broken thing. Together, they sat and stared over the valley.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said.
He turned to her, dark eyes softer now. His nearly black hair fell into his eyes, and he tossed his head to clear it away. “What was it again?”
“Why are you mad at me?”
He blew a breath through his nose, turning back to the valley. “I’m not mad at you.”
“They why do you act so… mean?”
“It’s part of my magnetic personality,” he said dryly.
“Sometimes you’re sarcastic, but you aren’t always mean. Lately… I don’t know. It’s like you can’t stand the sight of me. Why even come and take me on this hike if you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you.” His eyes traced the lines of her face. It was like her words had broken a wall and she was seeing inside. And he was a person she thought she would really like.
“Brandy, my brothers are idiots. They drive me crazy. And you don’t. I like being around you. And then I have to see them put their hands on you…” His own hands squeezed into fists.
“Sibling rivalry? Your brother is playing with your favorite toy?” She raised an eyebrow.
Anger flashed across his face. “When I see them touch you, it makes me want to rip their arms off.”
She put her hand on his forearm, the lightest of caresses like she might touch a wounded animal. “If you had just told me, it would have made all this much easier.”
“How? Now we’re all in some competition to see who can mate with you. I don’t think I can stand it. I might have to bow out.”
She frowned, staring deeper into his eyes. “You like me so much you don’t ever want to see me again? How does that make any sense?”
“I can’t stand it. I want it to be me touching you. Me kissing you.”
She didn’t realize how close their bodies were until he was nearly on top of her. The smell of his mouth triggered the memory of them on the floor, writhing together in ecstasy. She wanted that again. Wanted him again. Her eyes flicked up, and she knew he knew what she wanted.
Reaching out, he brushed the hair from her neck. Fingers grazed the skin of her collarbone, the faintest brush, but enough to start a tingle that radiated across her skin and down her chest.
“Did Drake… touch you?” he asked, staring intently into her eyes.
She shook her head.
He leaned closer. His dark hair fell over his eyes as he stared at her. “Did Wrek?”
“Not really.”
“Only me?” he asked. This time, his fingers trailed down her arm, touching her skin oh so lightly. The touch was almost nothing. Yet, it caused her body to come alive, nerve sensors awakening and wanting more.
“Only you,” she whispered, focusing on those lips again. She remembered them on her. Remembered the passion, bucking against him, wanting to ride him for eternity.
His head tilted the slightest bit as he studied her mouth. The hand that had been touching her arm reached out. When his thumb settled on her bottom lip, rubbing against it, she felt tingles much lower.
“I want this mouth to be mine,” he said, staring at it. “Tell me it’s mine.”
“It’s yours.” She’d say anything to him right now.
His hand trailed down her neck, fingers grazing her exposed collarbone. “I want this neck.”
“You can have it,” she said, leaning toward him.
His hands pulled at her shirt, tugging down the V until the tops of her breasts were exposed. She watched them heave as his fingers slid over the mounds of flesh. “I want these, too.”
“Take them,” she moaned.
Both hands gripped her breasts and squeezed. Her nipples were hard as glass and so sensitive. She arched into him, wanting to urge him on. As if sensing her desire, he yanked her shirt down, exposing her bra. Then he pulled that down, too, letting her nipples free.
Exposed and yearning for his touch, she could barely stand to wait as he stared at her nakedness. “What are you waiting for?” she asked, reaching for him.
He gently pushed her hands away. “If these are mine,” he said with heavy-lidded eyes, “then I want to enjoy them.”
Still panting with want, she watched as his head bent down, his mouth angling closer. The anticipation of his touch drove her crazy.
The flick of his tongue on one nipple made her buck and groan. Just one flick. She felt her core slicken in anticipation. But he was driving her mad with waiting. “You’re taking so long.”
“They’re mine,” he said with a grin. “I get to do what I want.”
Starting to protest, her comment died as he sucked the nipple into his mouth. The pressure of his teeth grazing against that pleasure center felt so damn good. He licked and bit until she was gripping his forearms like a madwoman.
“The other one,” she pleaded.
“Is mine as well,” he said. He skimmed his tongue across her cleavage before centering himself over the neglected nipple.
When he gave the nipple a lick, he flicked the other with his finger. Both sensations at once made her squirm. He began working each nipple in tandem.
She couldn’t take it anymore. She clawed for his pants, wanting them off.
“No,” he said, pushing this advance away. “I get to take my time.”
Groaning, she submitted. Normally, she wanted to be in control after years of being subservient to her clients, but being with Tork was different. His worship of her body felt amazing, both physically and spiritually. He was drawing things out of her she hadn’t even known she had buried.
She couldn’t ponder it further because he was picking her
up and lowering her to the ground. Surprisingly, there were no rocks or sticks beneath them, only smooth soft grass. It was his simulation after all. He could do what he wanted to the room. And her body.
Once he had her flat on her back, Tork gripped her thighs and knelt between them. “I claim these thighs, too. Or are they already spoken for?”
Gazing up at him, she shook her head. “All yours.”
A broad smile spread across his face. She watched as he undid her pants and slid them down, revealing her long legs. His eyes traced her skin hungrily. Licking his lips, he ran his hands down her thighs and back up, fingertips stopping just below the band of her panties.
She shivered. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on his touch.
Fingertips trailed along her inner thigh. They slipped along the edge of her panties playfully.
“What about this?” he said in a low growl. “Has anyone claimed this?”
Her eyes fluttered open.
He licked his lips again, staring at her most sensitive region like he was ready to dive in.
“It’s mine,” she said, watching him.
“It’s yours?” he asked, fingers stroking all around the fabric. “That’s too bad. If it were mine, the things I would do to it… I could make it very happy.” At the last word, his fingers trailed up her slit. Even though it was over the fabric, it lit her on fire.
She lifted her hips. “What would you do to it?”
“Can I show you?” Fingers tugged at the cloth, but they didn’t pull it down. The teasing was killing her.
“Show me,” she said throatily.
“If you say so.”
He swept the fabric down her hips. Soon, he was sliding her panties over her ass and pulling them off.
His eyes lingered on her like he couldn’t stop himself from staring. The pure pleasure on his face softened his features, making him appear boyish and so achingly handsome. She wished she could snap a photo of him as he was right now.
But then he was reaching down and caressing her core. Her eyes rolled back in her head as the pleasure flooded her body. She wanted to watch his massive body loom over her and his face tighten as he enjoyed her pleasure, but her own enjoyment was too much. Her hands clawed at the dirt as he slipped his finger into her hot wet center.
