“I must leave tomorrow, sholani.”
“Can’t be that high a priority if you don’t have to leave right away.”
He pulls me in by the waist, ignoring the fact that he’s still naked and his cocks are as hard as ever. “I have a sholani now. Allowances must be made. I told GI6 I can only leave after I ensure your safety here, that I will meet the local Earth Intelligence agents.”
“It’s a party. Nothing that important. You can meet them another time. I don’t want to keep you from your mission.”
He arches a brow. “You do not wish me to meet them?”
“Yes and no. I’m not sure it’s the best place for you, my sholan. Not all humans, even those working in Earth Intelligence, accept aliens. They understand we need them as allies, but that doesn’t mean they wish to socialize with them.”
“We will not go if this is what you wish.”
I think about it for a second. This male, my male, will do anything for me if I ask. How could I not be proud to show him off to people? Damn them and their prejudices. If they don’t accept him, it won’t change a thing between me and Nikkov. Nothing could make me stop loving him.
“We’ll go. And if anyone says a single unkind word to or about you, I’ll punch him in the mouth. Or the nuts.”
Nikkov strokes the knuckles on my right hand. “Do not damage yourself. I can handle myself. But I do love that you want to protect me.” His eyes wander down my torso, heating me. “Keep looking at me like that and we’ll never make it to the party.”
“It’s now?”
“Tonight.”
He lifts me high and swings me around, unzips the dress and tosses it aside. “Then I have plenty of time to claim you…”
Nikkov looks dashingin his warrior clothes. A leather vest he never bothers to close, and dark brown leather pants to match. His display of weapons, from his blaster to his knives, tell everyone exactly who he is, even if they couldn’t guess from his horns and tattoos. I’m wearing a red sequined dress in spiky red heels, the dress that best shows off my assets. Am I playing with fire, tempting someone else to stare at my breasts in front of Nikkov? Yes. But he’s right. I do trust him. He won’t start any trouble, but he will finish it.
One by one, I introduce Nikkov, then we hang back, giving him a chance to observe my co-workers, see the type of people they are. Loud and boisterous, at least at the present, because it’s a party. Calmly, and quietly, Nikkov enters, one hand on my lower back. I don’t look, but I suspect his other hand is near his blaster, or one of his knives. His eyes narrow as he observes and assesses.
“Let’s head over there, toward the food table. I’m starved.”
When we step beneath the archway, Parker yells, “Mistle?—”
Something hard knocks me to the floor. It takes me a second to realize it’s my warrior. His hand cushions the back of my head, protecting it from hitting the cement floor, and his body covers mine like a blanket.
“What the fuck, Nikkov?”
“You’re in danger. There’s a missile.”
“Missile?” I stare up at several of my fellow agents who freeze mid-laugh, no doubt wondering if they’ve broken some intergalactic protocol, or worse, offended me.
“Language issue, Snow?” Parker’s voice holds a note of caution, a moment before he steps forward and offers me a hand up, even though I’m still trapped beneath Nikkov.
“Fuck off, Parker.”
His tone softens, even as I refuse his hand and he withdraws. “You need to teach your warrior the basics if he’s gonna be living here.”
My eyes find Nikkov again, who’s still shielding me with his body. “Not a real missile, my sholan.” I stroke his right horn, which is fully erect as he’s on high alert. “It’s a tradition during Christmas to hang sprigs of a plant called mistletoe, then announce it when a couple walks beneath it.” I point up to the white berry-laden mistletoe with a red ribbon adorning the archway. “We walked under it, so we’re supposed to kiss.”
He helps me to my feet. “The male is right. I must continue learning your traditions.” Without warning, my warrior kisses me. A kiss that goes on and on, until I no longer hear the cheers, laughter, and jokes surrounding us. I don’t know why I was nervous. The other agents are fine with Nikkov being here. And Nikkov, he’s wonderful, tolerant, and eager to become a part of my life.
“I like this tradition,” he says, when we finally break the kiss.
“So do I.” I tug at his leather pants. “But I think it’s time you teach me some zyanthan traditions.”
“We do not have Christmas.”
“Any traditions, my sholan. Anything that you find important and worth experiencing.”
