According to Jen, the information they stole from the facility could be dangerous, as it includes the names and contact information for every staff member. They also took files on the Kar’Kali genocide. Jen said they must have thought they could try to use the bioweapon formula on humans here on Earth without realizing how utterly useless it is now. “Somehow I doubt they have to chops to synthesize the pheromones of a Mitskaa fog monster,” Jen had said. “HA! Friggin’ idiots.” I’m still not finding the humor in it myself, but that’s for the best since laughter makes me spasm in pain.
“I didn’t get a chance to say how proud of you I am,” I say, smiling as I reach to him, signaling that he should hold my hand.
He frowns and lays his head on my leg pillow. He nestles between my legs and takes my flexing hand in his own. “What can you mean?” he asks.
“I know you were in Alpha male rage mode. And you did the right thing. You proved everyone wrong, including yourself I might add, by not ripping any throats out.”
“I must admit I often regret that,” he grumbles.
“Take my compliment! Don’t make an injured woman get up to smack you,” I warn him.
“Apologies.” He laughs and opens my hand so he can kiss the inside of my palm. “Your pride in me is more than I deserve. But I am filled with joy at the thought of it.”
“Good enough,” I say. “But seriously, you didn’t maim a single person!”
He grows quiet, then glances at me with slitted eyes.
“What?” I exclaim. “Kila! Did you…?”
His fingers stroke my palm and wrist.
“Kila! Who did you maim—”
“Lightly,” he corrects in a silky voice. “Lightly maimed.”
“Well, who?” I ask.
“Please don’t be upset,” he sighs. “But I extracted some information from Vic Williams. I might have broken a finger. I was more than willing to begin cutting him in the Kar’Kali way, but he broke in a matter of seconds.”
A broken finger? I snort. Maybe I am in a harsh mood, but I have no sympathy for Vic.
“I don’t know what I thought you were going to say, but … well, I can’t bring myself to feel bad about that,” I mutter.
“Yes,” he agrees. “Kiva said he would stop me from killing him if it became necessary.”
“Oh yeah,” I say, squeezing down on his hand to grab his attention. He lifts his head to smile at me from between my legs. It distracts me for a moment to see him so close to the cunnilingus position. His cheek rests against my inner thigh, tantalizingly close to the promise-land. “About Kiva…”
He must be reading mind, expression perking into a naughty one. He snakes up closer to my crotch and murmurs, “I don’t wish to speak of Kiva now. Other thoughts have intruded.”
A breathy sigh releases from my lips as he runs his fingers lightly over the seam of my panties.
He hesitates. “Ella, are you well enough to be licked? What if I—”
“I’ve heard that orgasms ease pain,” I interrupt.
Smirking at my insistence, he resumes his gentle teasing between my legs. He rubs with such delicate movements that it sends goosebumps racing over my thighs.
“You’ve heard?” he repeats. “I don’t know… I could hurt you.”
“Baby, it’s sweet that you’re worried, but just start licking me now,” I say. It’s killing me to see him hovering there with those delicious lips so close to my center. Heat is quickly flooding between my legs as he slides his fingers under the lacy trim and pulls the fabric away.
“Anything to please you,” he whispers. I feel his breath tickle my inner thigh. I close my eyes and let everything else outside of our room fall away.
Things aren’t fixed, not by a long shot, and I know deep down that there’s a chance they never will be. Kila treats me like a treasured piece of porcelain that will need to be cared for until I am better, but I know that he’s been through much worse than me. One day of trauma is nothing to the horrors of war that he’s seen and the loss that he experienced only a handful of weeks earlier. But now that his team is on his side—on our side—I know that we’ll heal. They don’t want to admit it in words, but I’ve noticed a transformation between Kila and the others. It makes me wonder what was said while I was taken away. They might be close to becoming a real family. It might take some teeth-pulling on my end, but I know I can show them how to accept the love and do it Earth-style. I’m going to make it my new mission… whether those stubborn aliens like it or not. If the way Kila’s working my body is any indication, I can trust that the Kar’Kali are fast learners with the right instruction.
About the Author
Gemma Voss writes steamy SciFi Romance novels featuring flirtatious banter, sexual tension, intergalactic misunderstandings, happily ever afters, and a dash of mortal peril. She lives on Earth, drinks far too much coffee, and loves to curl up with a good book.
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Sneak Preview
MAX
I am standing in my kitchen with a baseball bat, wondering how the hell I ended up with this life.
I never asked this world to saddle me with a household full of criminals and a kidnapped woman in my laundry room.
A footstep creaks on the top of the landing. I can’t be certain who it is, but I’m pretty sure that I’m better off clocking them with my bat before they have a chance to hurt me.
Aside from the creak of my floors, its suspiciously quiet. That makes me suspect that my pursuer is one of the mystery men that pulled up on my lawn in a van. I ran from the door before I could get a good look at them, but I know what they’re here for. Chris and Zach aren’t capable of moving so quietly that I can’t hear them.
It would be no better if it was them, I remind myself. If they come back from subduing their captive, I’ll be their first target. They don’t need it to be true to accuse me of not lifting a finger to help when the pretty brunette hair-sprayed Lionel right in the eyeball. It is true, because I hate that guy’s guts, but they’d accuse me of anything if it gave them free reign to rough me up for fun. I was so certain that girl was delusional when she said someone was coming for her. I even laughed.
I’m not laughing now. In fact, I’m holding my breath so hard I think my head might explode.
Creaakk
Thank God for this old house. The man must be in the living room, on the other side of the wall from me. I step slowly to the left, knowing he will come through the dining area and around the corner to check the kitchen. I wait, my back against the edge of the archway, heart pounding. My palms are sweaty on the smooth black handle of my Louisville slugger.