But Maelic’s tongue and fingers had felt so good she’d actually come hard enough to pass out.
Well. First time for everything.
He shifted, arms wrapping more possessively around her. His face buried into her neck again. He always seemed to zero in on that spot. He was relaxed like this, the tension zapped out of him. That terse, tense demeanor had melted away, leaving nothing but a puddle of giant moth alien.
She snorted.
His tattered clothing caught her eye. She frowned. Gingerly, she extracted herself from his grip. He groaned, brow furrowing, but didn’t wake. Just buried his face in her pillows instead.
She’d assumed he had a fever the night before, but watching him now… maybe it was something else. Who knew what effect being on a foreign planet had on his species.
Fucking aliens.
She should be freaking out. Any sane person would be. But something about this male didn’t set off the alarm bells it should. Something about him screamed safe.
And that? That was the terrifying part.
She chewed her lip and made a decision. She grabbed her green fluffy robe off the reading chair and slipped into it.
She padded down the hall to Grandpa’s old room. The scent of stale air hit her first. She’d been avoiding this room. But underneath it was that familiar hint of his cologne.
Her eyes burned for a second. She shook it off and moved to his dresser, digging around until she found a pair of old jeans. The largest ones there. They’d be a tight fit on those thick thighs of his, but better than wearing ruined clothes. She didn’t know if whatever material Maelic wore would survive a run in the dryer, but she could try.
She laid the jeans out on the flannel-blanketed bed, then moved to the closet. Now this would be trickier. Maelic had a wide chest, and Grandpa’s coat had been too small.
She spent a few moments digging around, chuckling over the fishing novelty shirts he’d collected over the years. Her eyes caught on the oversized Christmas sweater she’d bought him a few years back.
A lump formed in her throat.
To be blunt, it was ugly. A cat dressed as Santa riding a T-Rex. But it was oversized. There were a few more gems like that in there. She pulled them out and nodded to herself. This was the least she could do… he’d almost killed himself to get her glove last night.
She wondered how Grandpa would have reacted to this situation. The old coot had been a big fan ofPrehistoric Aliens, always making her watch it late into the night and listen to his theories.
He would have loved to meet Maelic.
She swallowed hard.
Her eyes caught on a green and red keepsake box on the top shelf. The thick cardboard kind, meant for photos and special mementos.
I wonder if Grandpa had some old pictures in here.
She reached up and grabbed it, setting it down on the bed. Something to look through later.
Her attention shifted to the sweaters. Maelic had wings, but…
Grandma’s old sewing kit still sat on the dresser. Delaney grabbed the scissors from inside, the handles worn smooth from years of use. It only took a few minutes to cut slits into the backs for his wings.
It hurt a little to do this to the poor sweaters. But Grandpa wasn’t around to use them anymore, and alien or not, he wouldn’t have been pleased with her leaving a guest half-naked.
Besides, he’d only ever worn these to make her happy anyway. If he’d still been here, he would’ve volunteered them himself.
Delaney grabbed a quick shower and checked in on her mothman. The fact he was still passed out was a little alarming. Then again, he had survived a space crash, braving a snowstorm, and eating her pussy like a world champion all in the span of like twenty-four hours. The nightmare also gave her pause. It seemed bad.
Dude must need the rest.
She was in the kitchen now. Looking through Grandpa’s room for the clothes had made her more than a little nostalgic, and it had spurred her to make Grandma’s favorite holiday breakfast.
She was plating up the smiling reindeer—well, reindeer adjacent if you squinted—shaped pancakes when heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs.
