I stared at the square cut of his jaw, the scowl of concentration as he washed my feet with a gentleness that seemed at odds with his size. Was his face getting bigger? How freaking drunk was I? “What happened to your shirt?” He looked like a character in an Incredible Hulk re-run, his long-sleeved, black shirt literally hanging from his shoulders in tatters, like he’d taken a pair of scissors to it. Ripped it to shreds.
Instead of answering my question, he ripped the remnants from his back and tossed it to the floor like scrap.
Now I had a full view of his chest. Shoulders. His back. And those abs. I tracked every dip and curve until the waistband of a pair of tight, black pants blocked my view.
If I hadn’t been drooling before, I was now. Sheesh. Looking like a sex god shouldn’t be legal. My fingers twitched, wanting to touch. I dug my fingernails into my palms in an effort to control myself. He was too handsome. Too masculine. Too many muscles. Too much heat. I wanted to curl into him and let him take care of me, do whatever he wanted with me. I was so tired of being scared. Alone. I wanted to be his.
A guy like this would protect what belonged to him. I could just hear the feminists screaming at me that I shouldn’t want to belong to any man.
Fuck them all. I did. I so did. I wanted to belong to Iven Smith. But only if he was in love with me. Devoted. Only if he adored me and lusted after me equally. Only if he looked at me the way Rojak had looked at Kim. That’s what I wanted. Now that I had Brody to take care of, I couldn’t even volunteer to be an Interstellar Bride. Not that I’d trust any alien to take care of him after everything that had happened. Seemed I was just screwed.
Except, Iven was human. Big, but human. A regular man. Right? I could fall in love with him. He’d want to stay on Earth, and have babies, and live a normal life. Wouldn’t he?
The light wasn’t great, but I had to blink twice. Looked like he had thin strands of metal running over the skin on his shoulders, as if he’d been decorated with very thin tinsel, like a Christmas tree. When he twisted a bit, I saw the same silver glinting from his upper back like he had metallic spider webs in his skin. Was that metallic tattoo ink?
Weird, but didn’t matter. I still wanted to lick him up and down like a lollipop. No man should look this good. It wasn’t fair. I was frumpy and plain. Pale skin. Pale eyes. Thin lips. My hair was just curly enough to be difficult to manage, but not bouncy enough to look like a shampoo model’s. I was too curvy, too soft, too tall. Too everything for a perfect specimen like him.
His enormous hands cradled my feet like they were newborn kittens as he gently washed them. My size eleven feet hadn’t felt small since about third grade. Hell, I hadn’t felt small or feminine since I hit puberty. But with those large hands caressing my feet, my heart was indulging in all kinds of emotional fantasies like being cared for, sheltered, and adored. What would it be like to have someone like Iven in love with me? Desire me?
Was it hot in here?
I whimpered as Iven pulled me closer to the sink and dipped my feet into warm, sudsy water. A large, strong hand wrapped around my ankle as he gently sprayed the bottom of first one foot, then the other, to rinse off the soap. The water stung. The soap stung more.
I didn’t care. His touch was making it difficult to breathe. My flannel shirt dress was riding up my thighs to the point of indecency. I was about to show him the black lace panties I’d put on this morning. Thinking about him, of course. I only had a couple pair of sexy undies, and I normally reserved them for special occasions.
This morning, the special occasion was fantasies about a certain co-worker who was now standing in my kitchen touching me.
I had to get out of the situation. Now. “I’m fine. Really.” I pulled the dress down over bent knees and pulled away from him so I could swing my legs out over the counter, the ridiculous thought that I was glad I’d shaved my legs in the shower this morning making me want to slap some sense into myself. “I’ll just finish up in the bathroom. I can probably get the rest of the glass out in the shower.”
“Where you will remove your clothing?”
What? “Uh, yes?” Strange question. Strange situation.
He moved so fast I didn’t have time to react, his arms on either side of me, his face so close our breaths mingled. His lips, those big, luscious lips that I’d been fantasizing over for three days, were right there. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“No.” What the hell was he talking about? How did this even happen? Why was he in my kitchen? “Why are you here? Are you stalking me?” My pulse jumped in alarm as I realized how stupid I was being. With his shirt gone, I should have noticed the big, gold and silver manacles on his wrists. Bracelets? With strange, sci-fi looking designs etched into the metal? I’d seen something similar before…
Mating cuffs…
“Oh, shit.” He was an alien.
I watched the Bachelor Beast TV show, just like every other red-blooded female on the planet. I knew a freaking pair of Atlan mating cuffs when I saw them. Oh, god.
So, what? He was an Atlan Warlord and he already had a mate? Good thing I’d used up all my tears. If I hadn’t, the burning in my eyes would have led to a very embarrassing breakdown over an alien who had no idea how obsessed I was with him the last few days. No idea.
I lifted my gaze to stare at the cabinets mounted to the wall behind him. This was fine. No big deal that he already had a woman. I’d already decided there would never be anything between us, no matter how sexy he was. The fact that he was from another planet didn’t change the facts. One, he was an alien. Two, he had a mate. And three? Every alien I’d met since my sister died had been trying to kill Brody, me, or both.
“Those are mating cuffs on your wrists. You’re an Atlan Warlord.”
“I am.”
“With a mate.”
“Yes.” He didn’t even try to deny it. Alien assassins were hunting for Brody and here I was panting over a stranger like Brody’s life—and mine—weren’t in danger. A huge, powerful stranger that had mysteriously shown up out of the blue for no good reason. An Atlan Warlord. Pretending to be a kindergarten teacher? What a coincidence that he just happened to be the new teacher for Brody’s class.
“What are you doing at my house? Why are you here?” Did he know?
Of course he did. The more important question was, what did he plan to do about it now that he’d found us?
