Page 34 of What Makes an Alien a Dad?

“But you aren’t pregnant.”

He huffed a laugh. “True.”

“And even if you were, you just said there was no harm in eating it once in a while, right?”

“I did,” he agreed.

“So.” I flicked my wrist, bringing the other end of the spiral closer to him. “Want to take a bite?”

He straightened his back, staring at the fruit.

“Come on. Just a taste.” I wiggled it in front of him. “Don’t worry, I don’t have cooties. Nothing contagious that you can catch by sharing food with me.”

“I know that,” he muttered softly. “I make sure every day that you stay healthy.”

He certainly did. By now, Professor Thormus knew my body’s inner workings better than I did. Maybe it should feel weird having a stranger that intimately familiar with all aspects of my biology, but after so many months in his care, it felt natural.

He took a bite of my fruit, chewed, and swallowed, not saying a word.

“And?” I stared at his lips that turned glossy with juice.

A drop trembled in the corner of his mouth, and I fought the urge to brush it off with my thumb. The man spent a considerable amount of time between my thighs on a daily basis, but me touching his face seemed inappropriate. I didn’t think he’d like being touched.

His tongue darted out, catching the drop. Dark red and tapered at the tip, his tongue unfurled like a ribbon before disappearing into his mouth once again. I knew Voranian tongues were considerably longer than humans’, but I hadn’t seen one up close like that before.

“What would it feel like while kissing?” a sudden thought popped into my head, and I nearly choked on my fruit stick.

Musing about kissing the professor was the last thing I wished to do. Clearly, such a large break in my sex life must be messing with my head.

“How did you like the fruit?” I jerked the stick in my hand, desperate to distract myself from the sudden turn my thoughts had taken.

“It’s nice.” He nodded, licking his lips again.

I averted my eyes from his mouth this time. “Why don’t you eat it more often, then?”

He shrugged a wide shoulder. “Acax fruit is a comfort food. It’s sold in public places like parks, zoos, and other attractions for a quick burst of energy and flavor. We don’t serve it at the hospital.”

“Do you only eat food available at the hospital?”

“That’s where I live.”

Against my better judgment, I slid my gaze down his muscular frame, barely contained by the pair of beige pants and the lavender shirt he was wearing. Voranians loved bright colors. Both the nature and the people around us burst with vibrant summer hues. For this outing, Professor Thormus had traded his white hospital coveralls for street clothes. Only they still were of subtle colors. I wonder if living in the sterile hospital environment of white and chrome had influenced his preference for muted shades.

“That explains it.” I nodded, taking another bite of my comfort fruit.

“Explains what?”

“The fact that you don’t have an ounce of fat on you and a whole lot of muscles.”

He followed my gaze to his thick bicep.

“Taking care of one’s physical wellbeing is important. I spend too much time stationary as my work requires. I have to exercise in order to move. It helps to clear my head, too.”

“You work out daily?”

“Every morning. In my exercise room.” He dropped his gaze. The confidence with which he usually talked about his work left him. Talking about the more private aspects of his life must be something he didn’t do very often. “I’ve been following the same weekly program since I came back from Tragul. It’s based on my combat training and includes sparring with a robot.”

It didn’t surprise me that he used the same program for years. The professor seemed to thrive on routine. It made me appreciate him taking the time from his busy schedule to hang out with me even more.

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