His taste was sweet, enticing, addictive. His mouth pressed against mine just right, and his tongue tangled with mine in bold, possessive strokes. Add the strong arms he’d wrapped around me, and I felt owned, and safe. A very heady combination. I clawed at his shoulders, found his braid with one hand, and clung like a needy little kitten. A mewling kind of moan escaped the back of my throat, and he pressed into me harder, as if he wanted to eat that sound, swallow it.
I felt it then, the hot press of his cock, both of them, against the sensitive softness of my belly. A pair of thick, hard bars outlined against the leather of his pants, pressing like brands into my skin. Hot—so hot—they made my legs go limp and my panties flood with a rush of wetness.
He raised his head slowly, forehead pressed to mine, his breath rapid in his wide chest. “Pyra and Pato,” he panted against my lips, “are our most admired ancient healers. They are the architects of our culture. They were also true mates, back when Aderians still had true mates…” The words hung in the air between us, too big to be poked at, too big for questions. I just knew that I hadn’t felt this good in days, weeks, months. I just knew that I wanted Jeltom to bend his head back to mine and kiss me again.
What I really wanted was to lead him to my bedroom so we could change kissing into touching, petting, stroking. I wanted him to show me how Aderians had sex. I wanted him in ways I’d never felt safe enough to want another man. But with him, I did. Jeltom, though, was the voice of reason, and that was exactly why I trusted him, why he made me feel safe. Even if I hated him a tiny, teensy-weensy little bit right now.
“No,” he said. “You must go to bed to rest, not mate, Mariska.” He carried me into my bedroom—not in that sexy, I’m-going-to-devour-you-any-moment way, but because he wanted me to sleep. “I’ll lie down next to you. How’s that? It will help, you’ll feel better for it tomorrow.” Funny how aliens all seemed to like the wordmatingfor sex, or maybe that was just a quirk of the translator.
As much as I wanted to protest, we were in new waters now. Jeltom was inside my bedroom, he’d kissed the living daylights out of me, and not that long ago, he’d stalked into the vineyard to hunt intruders with a laser pistol. I needed to remember that I hardly knew this man, and face the fact that he hadn’t just been working late and arriving early. I’d seen the bedroll, the freshclothes, and laundry when he searched for his weapon. He’d been sleeping in my barn.
When Jeltom said he was going to stay with me, I realized there was no way to object. Not because I feared he’d deny me or that he’d cross a line I couldn’t handle. No, it was because he was giving me exactly what I hadn’t realized I needed. Bundling me into my blanket like I was a little burrito, he lay down beside me. Then he gathered me close, tucking my head under his chin and onto his chest. It was a cocoon of safety and warmth, and parts of me that had never known what that was began to unwind—melting into a Mariska-shaped puddle in his arms.
“Okay?” he whispered after a soft moment. “I have studied them, but I don’t know everything yet about human courtship.” I fell asleep with those words buzzing through my veins. Human courtship? Had he understood me about Valentine, after all? Had I not misread the situation as blatantly as I feared I had? There was definitely a smile on my face, and all kinds of fuzzy feelings bubbling through my chest. So it was no wonder I fell into a deep, easy sleep filled with lovely dreams.
Chapter 10
Mariska
I woke up so slowly that it took me a minute to realize where I was. Even though I’d been at my little homestead a year and I definitely didn’t want to leave, it also didn’t quite feel like home yet—mostly because I didn’t know what home was really supposed to feel like. Maybe I had it now, and I just didn’t recognize it.
My bed was soft and warm, and a lovely scent clung to my blankets. Jeltom. I remembered now. Last night had been weird, and scary, and so good, too. The whole week was weird, from trekking into town to hire my mechanic, to that weird, flu-ish feeling that had begun to settle deep into my bones over the past few days. Then there was the kiss, and I hated how I couldn’t quite remember all the details, just that it had been mind-blowing.
He wasn’t on the bed with me, and daylight was filtering through my thin curtains—bright and warm—which meant the sun had already been up for some time. I’d slept in. Unlike the past few days, I didn’t feel sore or exhausted when I climbed out of bed. I felt like I was bursting with energy instead, and my mood was so good, I found myself humming a tune as I showered and dressed.
When I strapped my comm to my wrist, my mood began to falter. There was a message from Jess, a cheerful reminder not to be a chicken and ask Jeltom out. “It’s now or never, girl,” the message read. Today was Valentine’s Day, and I hadn’t managedto bring up the subject a second time. She was right, itwasnow or never. Although I suppose that kiss last night was hopeful; it meant my little infatuation with my braid-toting mechanic wasn’t all one-sided.
Still, my stomach was in knots at the thought of having to put myself out there. I had to be straightforward and not couch my interest in silly human customs Jeltom knew nothing about. How to find the words—and the courage—though? Unlike vivacious Jess, I had always been a bit of a wallflower. That’s partly why all the stares and overt kindness put me off so much every time I went into town here.
When I opened my bedroom door, I was in for a surprise. Freezing in place, I stared at the shock of color that now decorated my living room. Garlands of flowers lined the mantel of the fireplace, while petals were spread all over the floor. They were literally everywhere, pink and white. I recognized the Lemane flowers right away. To gather these, you had to either be crazy or wear very thick gloves, because, while gorgeous, the Lemane were carnivorous and packed a mean bite.
It smelled divine in here, though, and my heart skipped a beat, as if someone had taken a page out of someone’s Valentine playbook. Had Jeltom done this? It had to be him, because he was the only one besides me keyed to my locks. I took a picture with my comm and sent it to Jess because I justhadto share the beautiful flower chaos he’d created. Could a girl float? I was definitely floating as I drifted through the room and into the kitchen.
Here, a white lace tablecloth had been spread across my worn table. My old mismatched pair of chairs was gone, and in theirplace stood two newly made, straight-backed seats. I had no doubt that neither of them had a leg that was too short. At the center of the pristine tablecloth stood a box, a very large box with a red bow on it. I was very tempted to open it, but I wanted Jeltom with me when I did. Suddenly, it felt imperative that I see him right away.
I went to the window first, peering outside to check where he could be. The barn was a good bet, but he might be working on the shield generator, too. How easy it was to assume he was doing something helpful out there, and part of me wanted to be suspicious, but a bigger part of me was simply relieved. The farm was flourishing under all that attention and knowledge.
The automated fence repair bots were such a blessing for starters. I could see them working in the distance, and I’d walked around the property yesterday and discovered that, in just a day, they’d restored almost two-thirds of the broken fences. Another day and they’d have everything fixed—and that should help to keep the scavengers out. My harvester was completely rust-free and now without a rattle, and the pressing machine had churned out a very decent batch of grape juice, now fermenting in the barn.
Even exhausted, I had worked on the vegetable patch beside the house. It had been my dream to have it running and producing, to add fresh food to my diet. I just hadn’t had the time all year, since the fences and the grapevines had required all my attention. Perhaps we could even give the barn and the porch a fresh coat of paint before winter fell. The romantic gesture of flowers and a gift had made me float, but hope for a better future had also made me lighter, lifting a weight off my shoulders.
Jeltom was stacking firewood against the side of the house, but he hadn’t taken off his shirt to chop wood—a very sad fact, but one I’d get over. He still looked very handsome in his sleeveless tunic and leather pants. Over the past few days, he’d churned through the vast majority of unchopped wood some helpful neighbor had delivered a few weeks ago: “To help me get through the coming winter,” they’d said, tipping their hat my way and driving off in their strange, hovering tractor thing.
I opened the door and went outside, circling around the back to get to him. He heard me coming and lifted his head. His expression was the same as always; mild, unreadable; somewhere between what could be chagrined or just bored. Then he dropped his ax and, in two big strides, closed the distance between us. His hands cupped my face, his mouth came down to mine, and then he was kissing me. Bored? Chagrined? Clearly, I had been reading that all wrong.
We were both a bit out of breath when he lifted his head. “Good morning, Mariska,” he said, his voice low and husky, as if he were just a tad uneven after the way we’d tangled. He still held my face in both his hands, and our chests were only an inch apart, the heat from his body engulfing me.
“Morning,” I said, just as breathlessly. “Did you do all that?” I gestured vaguely at my home. He nodded once, and I saw how wide my own smile was in the mirror-black of his eyes. My belly fluttered with nerves and pleasure. Was I finally getting what Jess had found with her boyfriend, Jared? That one guy you could truly trust and be yourself with? If so, I should be able to talk about Valentine like a proper adult, without getting all tangled up in the words.
He beat me to it. “Today is Valentine’s, according to the Earth calendar. Am I doing it right? I want to make you happy, Mariska.” Had anyone ever said sweeter words to me? I didn’t think so. My tongue tangled on the words anyway—not because I feared to speak them, but because I was so overwhelmed with emotion. I reached up to his shoulders, lifted onto tiptoe, and pressed my mouth to his.
“So right!” I agreed. “How did you…” Jeltom turned me gently and urged me back toward the kitchen door. That half-smile I adored lingered on his face—a little tilt of his lips, mysterious, as if he wasn’t quite convinced he should be doing this. As if he didn’t trust he could laugh, and I was so happy he could smile with me.
“I asked Danitalin’s human crewmates for help, or, well… she did it for me, because I don’t really know them.” Jeltom never talked much, but he was a font of information this morning. “After getting shot, I recovered on the Varakartoom, and Danitalin stayed there with her mate, and, well, they have half a dozen humans running around, so I figured they’d know what Valentine was. Oh, you didn’t open the gift yet?”
He froze right behind me just as we entered the kitchen, his face angled toward the table with the large brown box and its pretty red bow. “I wanted you to be there when I did,” I said, and then, a little more guiltily, added, “I didn’t get you anything. I thought you didn’t know what I meant, and I… I was certain you wouldn’t be interested anyway.”
“Not interested?” he growled. “How could I not be interested?” Whoa, I’d never had a guy growl at me before, and not only was what he said amazing, he said it in the hottest way. Then hestepped toward me, and I found myself backed into the kitchen cabinets. “You are the prettiest female in town, your scent drives me crazy, and I want to pet all your sweet curves.” Even without a visible iris, I sensed that his eyes had lowered from my face to the cleavage spilling over the edge of my tank top.
