Page 48 of An Alien for the Farm

I haven’t seen the Liora since she slipped from my arms and crept out into the shadows. What if she regrets what transpired between us?

I knock anyway and I hear sound behind the door immediately.

“Coming!”

I almost groan at just the sound of her voice. I want nothing more than to make her come. It’s all that’s been on my mind for the past few sols.

The door opens, and Eleanor is standing there. Her hands are covered in white dust that smudges some parts of her tunic. Her hair’s slightly tousled, particles of the same white dust in the strands where she’s obviously brushed her hair back. She smiles at me, her entire face lighting up as she turns away and hurries back inside.

“Come on in!” She disappears into the meal prep room where a curious scent is emanating from. “I’ve been up trying to make some meatloaf. The ingredients are different but the little computer’s been a real help.”

I step inside, my gaze shifting around the room as if I’ve never entered the space before. Shutting the front door behind me, I walk slowly in the direction she went. When I stand within the doorframe of the meal prep room, I’m caught in two glorious scents.

Her. Undeniably her. And the scent of whatever she’s creating. I lean against the doorframe, just watching her flutter about. She looks alive today. At least one of us seems to have gotten some rest.

“It might be nothing like you’ve had before. Alien cuisine—and I don’t mean that in a derogatory way or anything—seems pretty plain for the most part. At least, what I’ve had. Nutrient bars. Bland porridges. I know it can’t all be like that, especially judging from what New Horizons sent me to start with, but I thought I’d try making something you’d probably enjoy eating too.” She’s fluttering about as she talks. Grabbing utensils. Checking the cookstove. Her gaze darts to me and I see her cheeks warm.

“What is it?”

“Hm?” I blink, easing up off the doorframe.

“You’re smiling. Slept well?”

My gaze heats immediately, but she doesn’t look away. “I didn’t do much resting for the entire dark cycle.”

She does that sound in her throat, clearing it, before she shifts her gaze away from mine with a smile on her lips. “Well, me neither.”

A purr starts in my throat and I have to fold my arms across my chest before I reach for her.

“Come in, Zynar,” she says low. “Don’t be a stranger. Wash your hands. The food’s almost ready.”

I swagger in. Frakk, I’ve never felt the need to do that before, but this female is making me feel many things I’ve never felt before. Washing my claws at the sink, I watch her over my shoulder as she pulls two large rolls from the cookstove. The smell is divine and my mouth waters. Turning, I reach over her, caging her in with my arms as I grab the drying towel resting just before her.

The slightest brush of her behind against my groin and I’m suddenly aware of my very hard cock.

“Tempting,” I purr.

Eleanor tilts her head to look up at me. “Really? Does it smell good to you?”

This close, every movement she makes causes her to brush against me. I take forever to dry my claws on purpose. “You have no idea how good it smells.”

Her smile makes the corners of her eyes crinkle. Reaching for the tray, I balance it in one hand as I allow her to slip out from under me. She gets two flat plates and places the utensils on them before she heads out into the main room where the meal table is. There, she sets the plates down and reaches for the food from me. I watch her, fascinated, as she cuts the large rolls. Sweet flavor fills the air and I’m actually looking forward to trying it.

“Sit. I’ll get the drinks.”

I watch as she hurries back for the drinks before returning. Her gaze shifts to me with a question, probably because she ordered me to sit. I grin, loving how her brows furrow when she’s confused, as I walk around to her side and pull out her chair. Her cheeks flame and she does a little dip of her head before sitting. Once she’s settled, I move around to my side.

“Let me,” I purr, reaching for the rolls. I handle them with care, not wanting to destroy the meal she so painstakingly made for us as I serve her first.

“Thank you,” she whispers, but as I serve myself a short moment later, I find that she’s not eating. Instead, she’s watching me carefully.

She’s nervous? If she only knew I would and will eat anything she presents before me. So, I take a bite of the meatlohf. Probably too zealously, as it just exited the cookstove. I swallow it down anyway, prepared to tell her how great it is even if that’s not the case. But I don’t have to pretend. Just like everything concerning Eleanor, the meal is good. Mouthwatering. I groan, relaxing into the seat at my back.

“It’s good?” She perks up a little, sitting straighter in her chair. “You like it?”

The hope on her face is adorable.

I nod. “I’ve never had anything like this before. And that’s a shame.”

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