The fabric of his ship suit stretched over his back, came in at his trim waist, and did absolutely phenomenal things to his ass.
You’re not here to ogle the guy’s butt.
Aletta wriggled out of the booth with a grunt.
“The coffee was fine.” His voice sounded choked.
“You’re a terrible liar, you know.” She walked slowly toward him.
Gark turned his head, lilac eyes flashing. “I’m a liar?” He practically growled the words, and Aletta’s lady parts lit up like fireworks.
“Yup,” she said, popping the ‘p’. She was playing with fire now, and she knew it. “You’re a liar.” She sipped her coffee like she didn’t have a care in the world, though her heart was pounding in her chest.
Gark smiled grimly. “I’d rather you think I’m a liar than put you in danger.”
In danger? Aletta snorted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m a big girl, Gark. I can look after myself.”
She ignored the little voice that told her she was the one who was lying now. He’d rescued her from being eaten by giant bugs. Twice. He’d fed and clothed her and kept her safe.
“We’ll be docking at a space station tomorrow. I have a job to do there.”
A space station? Aletta’s mind whirled. Was he going to toss her off the ship? What if someone on the station had seen Dylan? What if Dylan was there?
She straightened and opened her mouth, but Gark held out a hand.
“Before you ask, no. Don’t leave the ship. It’s too dangerous.”
Aletta scowled. “I need to find Dylan. That’s all that matters to me.”
Gark closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between a huge thumb and forefinger. “Is it so hard to imagine I just want to keep you safe?”
She snorted. “I’m not your responsibility.”
He lifted an eyebrow, his expression nonplussed.
She poked her tongue out at him, her frustration removing her ability to find the right words.
“What was that for?”
Aletta smirked, thinking quickly. “Oh, on Earth, it’s a way to say thank you.”
His lips twisted. “Really.”
“Oh, absolutely.” She would take her petty revenge any way she could. “It’s extremely respectful.”
“Somehow I doubt that very much.” A muscle near Gark’s eye twitched, and he screwed up his nose.
“That! That look! Do humans stink or something?”
She looked down at where his hand gripped the edge of the bench. How had they gotten so close? Her hand was resting next to his. So close that if she reached out with her little finger, they’d touch. If he spread his fingers wide, his hand was the size of a dinner plate. A big dinner plate.
What would it feel like to have those hands hold her? Not because she was in danger and he’d tossed her unceremoniously over his shoulder—she knew what that felt like—but what would it feel like to have him touch her like she was something precious?
One of his fingers twitched, and she looked up, starting at how close their faces were.
“You don’t stink,” he said, his voice a deep rumble that had her nipples tightening into stiff peaks.
He bent down, his face close to her neck, and he took a deep breath.
