Page 7 of Protected By the Alien Bodyguard

He slides toward us hypnotically, blocking the ramp.

Jaraz pulls me against his side. I wrap my arm around his muscular waist, trying to sell our cover story.

"I am his mate," I smile at the captain, my voice sounding rehearsed. I hope he doesn't see how tightly I'm clutching Jaraz or the way my body trembles whenever someone steps too close.

The captain inhales deeply, and his perpetual scowl deepens. "You do not smell, little female."

Umm... what? I discreetly sniff myself, turning my face closer to Jaraz's side and practically nuzzling him. Yeah, I do smell - it's not like Grum let me bathe regularly. At least Jaraz is too much of a gentleman to comment.

"Her family just agreed to my proposal," Jaraz says, wrapping another arm around me in a big hug. I'm not one for public displays of affection, but his hold makes me feel warm, safe. I could stay here forever.

The captain doesn’t hiss his displeasure, but I’m seriously imagining him doing so right now. Is that racist? It’s just he looks so much like a snake... Oh jeez, I am racist. Maybe the term is species-ist?

After more awkward posturing, he grants us access. Jaraz guides me inside, his arm firmly around me.

"What did he mean, I don't smell? I know I need a shower, but..." I ask, keeping my voice low. I’ve learned the hard way that aliens have some pretty crazy hearing.

Jaraz shakes his head. "He said you don't smell of me. Trust me, you smell pretty good."

"I... What?" I stare at him, flabbergasted. "Do you both hear yourselves? That makes no sense!"

"Let's get to our room. I'll explain inside," he replies.

Our steps echo on the hard, industrialized flooring. The ship feels well-used, scuffed. If the lighting were flickering, I'd claim a horror-themed setting. I can feel my anxiety itching beneath my skin. What if I get trapped, unable to see or defend myself? Is it too much to ask for some control in this crazy life?

Jaraz gives my shoulder a gentle reassuring squeeze. It’s the first time I’ve realized that we are still holding onto each other. It’s nice.

Our room’s door slides open before us with a hiss, and we step inside. The first thing I notice is the bed. Singular. As in, one. Right. We are supposed to be a married—sorry, mated—couple.

“The captain said you didn’t smell,” Jaraz states, rubbing salt in the wound.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do,” I mutter. I throw my hands up in the air. I have absolutely no idea of what’s going on. I’m tired, sore, and both emotionally and mentally drained.

"Of sex," he corrects, rubbing a frustrated hand through his hair. "A mated couple should smell of each other. This could cause complications I hadn't considered."

His expression falls. It’s only when my back hits the door behind me that I realize I’ve backed away from him.

“It’s okay, Kayla. I am not the kind of male to force himself onto a female. You are safe with me, I promise,” he rushes to reassure me. I study him for a moment, searching his face. There's genuine concern there, no hint of deception.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I say. I’m not sure if I’m speaking to him or myself. But it’s true. I’m not panicking. For once, my skin doesn’t tingle and my breaths aren’t hurried. I’m not about to have a panic attack. Ironic, since the guy looks like a freaking demon. You’d think I’d be more suspicious of him. If anything, I’m feeling OTHER stirrings as my eyes roam over his chiseled physique...

"Is this a problem?" I ask.

Jaraz raises his hands placatingly. "No, not at all. I just... I don't want you to feel pressured into anything you're not comfortable with."

I’m acutely aware of how his black shirt clings to him and his sculpted muscles, the fabric catching the light and glittering along the contours of his pecs and abs. I’m aware of how his pants are thick, a bulge far too large for its own good at his crotch. Even his forked tail flicking around behind him is a distraction; my core clenches at the thought of just how agile that tail is and what he might be able to use it for. What happens if others realize our relationship is fake? Will they attack us? Or will we be simply kicked off the ship at the next space station? I have no idea, and that in itself is terrifying.

Jaraz is the safer option. I can try to lie to myself all I want, but the truth is that I’m curious too. My mind races with scandalous possibilities. Anxiety and arousal make strange bedfellows. I’m not a virgin by a long shot, but this guy makes me feel like one.

Slowly, I step towards him.

"I trust you, Jaraz," I say softly. "If this is what we need to do to survive, then I'm willing to try."

Jaraz looks pained. “To do that, we’d need to have sex...”

“I’m game if you are,” I say, stepping closer, emboldened. I’ve never been the instigator of a relationship, always allowing the guy to lead. But this time, I’m taking charge. Jaraz’s eyes fixate on me and his breathing becomes noticeably ragged as his chest heaves. I feel powerful. For the first time in a long time, I feel in control.

I run a finger over his pec and down his stomach. Beneath the tight black fabric of his shirt, muscles jump and harden. There’s definitely some similar action happening in his pants.

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