My eyes pop up and lock with his.Oh shit.I drop my gaze back to my hands as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest. He’s definitely eye-fucking me, and instead of feeling weirded out, I’m … I’m a little turned on.
What the hell is wrong with me?I shouldn’t be turned on; I should be wary as hell. But I’m not. For some weird reason, I feel completely safe around this giant murder machine. Like really safe. Even though I shouldn’t. Obviously.
Nothing about my situation is ‘safe’ right now. I’m basically standing at the base of my own gallows waiting for the guards to tie the noose, and all I can think about is how safe and horny I feel with this guy.Ugh, why is being human so weird?
I wipe my brow with my forearm and reposition the light, trying to keep my focus on my task. I’m making decent progress, but we still have a ways to go, and I’d like to finish this before the guards come back. The big bastard might be determined, but if I hadn’t pushed him to let me help, I’m sure he’d still be stabbing himself repeatedly with nothing to show for it.
Needing to steady my hands, I rest the side of my palm on Vexar’s side. He sucks in a sharp breath, and every visible muscle in his body tenses.
“Do you need a break?” I ask, forcing myself to look away from his chiseled abs. A part of me feels guilty for looking at him like that, but I can’t help it. He’s shirtless, and it would be impossible not to admire the obvious lethality of his body—every hard-earned ridge and valley, every scar—it’s impressive as hell.
“I am fine. Please continue.”
“Are you sure? You seem…” Overstimulated? Nervous? All of the above?
“The pain is fine.”
So why is he so jumpy?
“Wait,” I grin, “are you ticklish?”
He snaps a quick, “No,” and I can’t help but laugh.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the other gladiators about your secret weakness.” I glance up, still laughing, and his impossibly green eyes meet mine. For a moment, everything seems to stop. Then it feels like I’m being dropped out of a fucking plane. My stomach jumps, heart rattles in my chest, and every nerve in my body stands at attention. It’s so overwhelming, I have to drop my head between my arms and bite back a moan as waves of what can only be described as painful euphoria rush through me.
“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice coming out in that deep rumble that only increases the thrashing of my heart.
Whatever doubts I had about Vexar being the cause of my sudden ‘heart-problems’ are quickly evaporating, and I don’t know what that means. It’s weird, that’s for sure, but it probably doesn’t matter. I’m not going to live long enough for any heart problems to really be an issue.
I palm the medical shears still stuck between my boobs and say, “Yeah, I’m good.”I just wish this weird reaction was less distracting. My body isrampedup.
A thought occurs to me, and I start to ask, “Does your species have ph—” Nope. If I ask about his pheromones, he’s going to assume I’m lusting after him.I mean, I sort of am, but still.
Changing the topic, I nod to his wound and ask, “How did this happen?”
He considers me for a moment, like he’s trying to decide how to answer. “The fight was over before I noticed the blood. I do not recall being struck.”
“Are you trying to impress me or something?”
“No, I am being honest. The fight was very fast. That is how I fight best, fast.” He smiles, showing a hint of fang, and I can’t look away. The sharp lines of his jaw and the curve of his soft lips have me in a chokehold.
“Do you do all things with such speed?” I ask, realizing the innuendo a little too late. I almost slap a hand to my mouth, but Vexar interrupts my shame.
“Some things are good fast, but…” he trails off as his eyes run down my body and back up, before he quickly looks away. He clears his throat and presses a hand to his chest. “Sorry.”
Fuck me…
Sweat beads on the back of my neck, trailing down my skin like a caress that does nothing to cool the fire in my veins.
I need to get a hold of myself. There’s a reason I’m here, andit’s not so I can eye-fuck this handsome alien. Time to change the subject. “So, what brought you to this dusty hellscape?” I ask casually as I start in on the next stitch.
Really, Amara? That’s what you’re gonna go with? Dusty hellscape?I press my eyes closed, wishing I was better at flirting and simultaneously hating myself for wishing that. I’m an enslaved nurse who’s going to be dead in a few hours, and he’s a wounded gladiator. Whateverthisis, can’t happen.
“You mean, Calidus?” he says, a sly grin curling his lips.
Shit.He knows I’m trying to flirt.
“Yup,” I say, keeping my eyes low as I throw the first knot of the suture with more force than I need to.
