She grabbed fresh clothes and changed. Soft sleep pants and a tank top that felt too much and not enough against her skin. Her nipples were still hard, visible through the thin fabric. She pulled on a loose shirt.
Crawling into bed, she pulled the covers up to her chin.
Tomorrow she’d have to face him. Sit across from him at breakfast. Look him in the eye and pretend she hadn’t watched him. Pretend she hadn’t violated his privacy and then immediately gotten herself off to the memory.
What kind of person did that?
She turned onto her side, pulling her knees up and tried not to think about the big, hard, ripped body he’d been hiding under those work clothes.
She pulled the pillow over her face and groaned into it.
Breakfast was going to be absolute hell.
Chapter 7
Juni stood outside the door to the main room, hand wrapped around the handle. She’d hardly slept. Every time she’d closed her eyes, she was back at those hot springs. Watching him rise from the water. Heat crawled up her neck.
Get it together. Just walk in there like a normal person who definitely didn’t spend half the night fantasizing about their alien host.
The handle turned under her grip before she could lose her nerve. The door swung open, and there he was.
Goraath stood at the counter with his back to her, broad shoulders shifting as he poured kasta. Morning light streamed through the window, catching the silver threads in his dark hair. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing forearms corded with muscle. Heat hit her cheeks as she remembered how those arms had felt wrapped around her yesterday.
The kasta smelled bitter and perfect, cutting through the lingering scent of bacon or whatever he’d cooked earlier. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since yesterday.
“Morning.” The word was raspy with sleep, or lack of it, scraping past a throat that felt like it was lined with swallowed gravel.
He turned, and his amber eyes found hers.
“You’re up early.” His tone was neutral, but something flickered in his eyes. Knowledge maybe. Or amusement…
“Ranch schedule.” She forced herself to move, crossing to the cabinet where the mugs lived. Her legs felt unsteady, like she’d run ten miles instead of just walking down a hallway. “Early bird gets the... whatever passes for worms out here.”
She reached for a mug, grateful her hands didn’t shake. The kasta pot sat between them, steam curling up from its spout in lazy spirals. She had to move closer to him to reach it. Had to step into that sphere of warmth that radiated from his body.
God. He smelled so good. Don’t moan… she ordered herself firmly. Don’t you dare fucking moan.
Her hand shook when she lifted the pot. Just a small tremor, but he tracked it. Of course he did. The man, alien, whatever, missed nothing. She had to concentrate on not splashing herself with jot kasta.
“Sleep well?” He asked casually, reaching past her for his own mug. The movement brought him close enough that she felt the heat of him along her side. Close enough that if she turned even slightly, they’d be pressed together.
Heat flooding from her chest up to her hairline in a wave that was had to be visible from space. Her grip tightened on the mug until her knuckles went white.
“Yeah… Fine.”
She fumbled with the sugar. Added too much. The silence stretched until it was thick and suffocating.
“You look flushed.” He tilted his head and his nostrils flared again. “Your scent is...”
He paused, a different light in his eyes than she’d seen before.
“Different,” he finished. “More intense.”
The mug slipped in her grip. Kasta sloshed, and she set it down before she burned herself.
“I’m… not feeling the best. I probably need some air,” she mumbled, already backing toward the door.
“Juniper.”
