Jane glowered at the male as he was herded out of the room. Her friend was right—the dude would end up dead if he kept running his mouth. As former slaves who’d escaped and were now on a mission to save all of humanity, the survivors of Paradise had no patience for alien bullshit.
As far as Jane was concerned, the Peacekeepers were good for one thing: muscles. The kind of muscles that could protect her people, and the kind of muscles that could scratch her itch. That’s it.
Harsh, maybe, but she didn’t have many kind, cuddly corners left in her heart. Her home was gone. Her husband was dead. Her son, Logan, owned the last unbroken bits of her. Every other male—human or alien—was an afterthought.
Lanie came back into the room as Deegan’s Viking fiddled with the medbed. She huffed and ran a hand through her super-straight, ultra-beautiful hair. “That was unpleasant. Sorry, Jane.”
Jane just shrugged. The Gkiven, Henta, had acted like an ass, but his words were swirling around in her head. Truthfully, she felt like she should be apologizing. She was a horrible mother.
After all, what kind of mother let their three-year-old out of sight just so she could spend not-so-quality time with two relative strangers?
Deegan barreled into her. “I’m so sorry, Jane! Please don’t hate me! I’m sorry,” she said again—and then again. “I swear, I was being careful—and so was Logan—but he just slipped!”
Jane hugged her friend. “Shush. Stop working yourself up over this, Dee. It’s not good for the baby.”
“What’s not good for the baby?” Dee’s handsome Abbaleer looked alarmed. He pulled Dee into his arms and gently rocked her; they were sweet together, perfectly matched. Dee was feisty and independent while he was broody and protective.
“Expectant mothers shouldn’t get too worked up—if our hearts pump too hard, or if too much adrenaline gets dumped into our systems, the risk of miscarriage goes up.”
Tugarth tightened his hold on Deegan. “Calm down,” he ordered.
She rolled her eyes and patted his furry hand. “I’m fine. I just need to keep apologizing…I feel awful about this, Jane. Really.”
“I know, but this kind of thing happens with kids.” Jane sighed and rolled her shoulders. “He’s a magnet for danger, and he’s had more bruises than I could ever count. But kids bounce.”
“Wait a minute,” Paul piped up. “I don’t anything about kids, but even I know that kids don’t really bounce!”
Jane wanted to bang her head against the wall. “Figuratively. Kids figuratively bounce, as in bounce back?”
Stars above and below, but she was tired and cranky and wanted her little man. What was taking so long? The thing was “magical” according to most humans, so shouldn’t it have already finished…? Leaving Paul and Dee to discuss the definition of figurative and literal, she walked to the medbed and fidgeted as she waited for it to finish. What if there was something else wrong, something more than a broken leg?
What if they hadn’t told her because she’d freak out—that would explain why Dee kept apologizing!
Just as she was about to truly spazz out, the medbed beeped.
**End of Sneak Peek**
Coming November 2016!
Bonus Scene: Lick the Bowl
*Paul*
Babies were not a topic—or experience—that Paul had ever been interested in. Yes, they were adorable, but they puked and pooped constantly. So…no. Thanks, anyway.
But Dee’s baby…well. He would, obviously, be an honorary uncle—and the best damn one in the galaxy! He’d have to learn how to do things—fun things, like playing tag and wrestling—but also less fun things, like changing shitty diapers.
He crinkled his nose at that disgusting mental image, and then gasped at a stray thought.
“Holy shit balls.” Dee wasn’t just having a kid; she was having a human-Abbaleer-hybrid kid. “We’re gonna need alien-sized bedsheets for its diapers.”
Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t be the best uncle in the galaxy. He’d be the gay, irresponsible but outrageously fun, uncle (sans diaper changing duties) and count himself lucky.
The transpo hanger erupted into joyful chaos as both humans and aliens freaked out over the pregnancy in the best possible way—they started hugging. He hadn’t known the sexy beasts were huggers, but he was glad they weren’t adverse to the gesture.
A Gkiven grabbed him for a celebratory squeeze and Paul made sure to reach around and grasp the male’s tight gluteus maximus in return, his fingertips grazing the tail right where it sprouted from the guy’s backside.
The scaly male let out a very undignified squeak and went right up onto his tippy toes in an effort to escape the reciprocated groping. His scales were slippery, aiding the bugger in wiggling free.
Paul was so busy laughing while watching the Gkiven tuck his tail—literally—and run, that he almost missed the Abbaleer next to him swooping poor Cara into his buff arms. Of course, her cry of alarm had several Paradins automatically turning to help, only to stop in amazement when the big alien proceeded to hug the surprised woman much like a child with a very floppy doll.
The guy looked blissful to have Cara in his arms, completely oblivious to the fact that everyone around him was staring in various combinations of shock, confusion, and amusement.
Cara, on the other hand, looked less blissful.
She used one hand to very carefully pat the enormous male on the arm, almost tentatively attempting to get his attention. “Um, excuse me?”
He opened his eyes to peer at the captive recipient of his hugging with adoration chiseled on his masculine face. “With your beauty, our children would be lovely! Be my charm?”
Of course, Cara panicked.
And really, who wouldn’t? That dude was even bigger than Dee’s Viking, and any kid of his was sure to rip a human vagina apart. Blech. Not that vaginas were his specialty. Double blech.
While he contemplated the grossness of female anatomy compared to the simple—and suckable—mechanics of male reproduction, chaos reigned. Again. This time was a lot less joyful. The humans scolded and griped like puritanical biddies before scurrying off, taking the newly returned couple and the bonded Peacekeepers with them; the lonesome aliens remained, scratching their big, fat heads as if dazed and confused.
Paul sighed and surveyed the pathetic, woeful males. The poor bastards looked like kicked puppies. Damn his soft heart. “Okay, listen up,” he yelled. His voice echoed through the transpo hanger and every head turned toward him. Two other human men, Andy and Josh, were still hanging around, looking indecisive and pitying—which was good. At least Paul wasn’t the only one feeling obligated by the bro code.
“We need to have a chat about how to talk to women…particularly how not to scare the shit out of them.” Paul put his hands on his hips and glared out at his suddenly rapt audience. “A lot of it is common sense, but…well, you guys seem to lack that.”
“You’re going to help us?” a Gkiven asked. His facial scales were pulled into a ridge along the length of his nose, and Paul assumed it was his breed’s way of frowning. It looked weird and slightly creepy.
“Yep. It’s painful watching you sexy beasts fumble like adolescent boys discovering their dicks for the first time. A little too much enthusiasm, not enough finesse.” The two human men chuckled, but the aliens didn’t seem to get it. Apparently they were all lucky not to have ripped their junk off.
“First things first,” he said. “Stop blurting out your intention to lifebond.”
At once, every alien frowned.
“They know,” Paul explained. “Trust me—they know. It’s implied. If you’re an alien, you’re interested in sex and bonding and babies.” He paused. “The ladies don’t need your intentions smacking ‘em in the face like an impatient cock before she can open her mouth.”
Several aliens wheezed. Others looked offended. “We’d never…uh, smack them!” The words were belligerent, but Paul couldn’t pinpoint who said it. Not that it matt
ered; they were all nodding.
“It’s just an expression.” Paul thought about how to better explain, and then grinned. He looked at the Abbaleer closest to him, walked to his unknowing volunteer, and then leaned in real close. Close enough to smell the spicy musk unique to the muscled hunk, to see the light fuzz on his jaw, and to hear his surprised inhale. Paul’s grin widened. “I’m gay—very, very gay. Some humans are attracted to men and women. Not me; nope, only dicks turn me on. I love big, thick, throbbing—”
The Abbaleer tensed, and Paul backed off. He was making a point, not trying to be a complete asshole. “Yeah. That was me ‘smacking you in the face’ with my sexuality. And that’s how the women feel every time you guys throw lifebonding and babies at them.”
Comprehension dawned on the crowd. Most of ‘em looked thoughtful, but one or two still grouched. “Then what are supposed to say?” a Lu’O griped.
Paul shrugged. “What do you say to each other? To me? To other human males?”
The room was silent for a minute as the guys mulled that over.
“So…” the Abbaleer in the front, the one Paul had used as a volunteer, scrunched his nose up. “We need to be friends with them, build their trust, before claiming one?”
“Uh, that’s the general idea,” Paul agreed. “But don’t just claim one after befriending her. That’s called kidnapping and is a big no-no. Try wooing her instead.”
The aliens looked around at one another and then back at Paul, their shrugs and frowns appearing almost choreographed in their synchronicity. He facepalmed before coming up with another way of explaining.
“Think of this like cooking. You reeeeally want something sweet, but the only way to get it is to make it. You have to measure out ingredients. Mix everything together. Bake it. Wait for it to cool. And then you get to savor it.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows, “Just don’t forget to lick the bowl, if you know what I mean.”
Andy and Josh both groaned.
“Dude,” Josh said. “That was so awesome, and, like, mature. And then lick the bowl.”
Paul shrugged. “I like sex, particularly when there’s a mouth south of my border. No doubt the ladies would enjoy some of the same. Nothing wrong with pointing that out.”
“South of your…border?” Once again, the aliens looked adorably confused.
Maybe this called for a demonstration? “I’d be more than happy to explain—but first, any volunteers?”
~ The End ~
Deegan's Rescue: Survivors of Paradise Book 2 Page 16
