Page 9 of Written in the Stars

“Yes, little one, yes, it is good to see you too,” Drask said behind me, and I marveled at how different he sounded, how bright and cheerful. “I am afraid we don’t have any snacks for you, though—hey!”

I stifled a laugh, turning to see the aggrieved alien holding his left hand tight, blood dripping from a fresh wound. Nebula sat on a nearby bookcase, facing away from us, her tail flicking from side to side. Every inch of her body language said that she’d never met either of us before, and it was no use accusing her. She was innocent as the day is long.

“Are you all right?” I asked the mighty warrior, struggling not to laugh at these antics. Drask growled.

“I was being friendly, and this is how she repays my kindness?” Lifting his hand to show off his injuries, he glared at the oblivious cat. “I swear by the Void, I’ll never be nice to that oversized flying rat again. She can starve for all I care.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Oh, come on, it’s at least a bit funny.”

“Humor is when something like this happens tosomeone else. When it happens to me, it’s a tragedy.”

“Let me have a look at it, you big baby.” I ducked behind the counter for my first aid kit. Drask turned his glare to me for a moment before offering me his injured hand.

“She hardly broke the skin, Oh Mighty Warrior,” I said, dabbing disinfectant on the scratches. He hissed in pain, and I shook my head. “Really? You were willing to leap into a fight with three gang members, but me cleaning your wounds is too painful for you?”

“I am not complaining,” Drask said, his face contorting as I cleaned his wound. “And it’s different with enemies. If they hurt me, I’mallowedto rip their heads off.”

He winced again, and I hid a smile as I wrapped a bandage around his hand and activated it. The smart fabric sealed and tightened around the wound, darkening into a blue that matched his skin.

My hand rested on his, and I stroked my fingers across the strange, enticing texture of his palm. His hand felt firm, the rough skin intriguing, the rapid pulse beneath making my heart race to match it. I caught myself biting my lower lip and realized I’d been silent for far too long.

“I’m happy that you don’t see Nebula or me as an enemy.” Not the best gambit, but better than silence. Drask stared at me, his eyes so intense that they seemed to look into my soul. My cheeks warmed and I pulled back my hand, but Drask didn’t let go.

“I would never treat you as an enemy,” he said. “You are safe with me, and always will be.”

There was something in his tone that took my breath away. It wasn’t soft—nothing about Drask was soft—but it still made me feel safe with him. An utterly sincere note that I couldn’t doubt.

Maybe it had something to do with the way he gripped my hand. Strong, calloused fingers that could easily have snapped my wrists instead held me with such precise force that I almost didn’t notice them. But when I tried to pull back, he didn’t let me move an inch.

It should have been frightening, and in some ways it was, but the feeling of safety wrapped around me like a warm blanket. My heart raced as I looked at him, not trusting my words to express what was in my mind.

With steady force, Drask pulled me toward him, across the counter. Helpless to resist, I leaned in, my breath catching.

“What are you doing?” I’d intended that to come out as a demand, but my trembling voice didn’t quite manage that.

Drask, his face now only inches from mine, smirked his infuriating, exciting, incredibly arousing grin. His voice was a low growl, quiet but deep enough to make me shudder with desire.

“I am doing what we both want to, but you cannot admit to yourself,” he said. His eyes burned into my soul, blasting away any vestige of deceit in my heart. Yes, I wanted this. I wantedhim.

And when he closed the last of the distance between us, his lips meeting mine, I kissed back passionately.

His tongue pressed into my mouth, a weird texture that sent a thrill through me. Sharp teeth grazed my lip, the delicious pain making me moan into him. It was the most intense kiss I’d ever imagined, ever experienced, ever conceived of.

And it wasn’t enough. I swept the countertop clear, books and catalogues and pens scattering across the floor, and hopped up onto it without breaking the kiss. But Drask took that further, dragging me over the counter and into his arms. My body pressed to his, and it was amazing. The muscles under his alien skin were like iron with just enough padding to make it comfortable, and even through my top, the rough texture made my body come alive.

He kissed with such passionate ferocity that I lost track of everything around us. Pirate romance books rained to the floor as we slammed into a bookshelf, and when we rebounded, we knocked over a display of historical fiction.

I didn’t care. All that mattered was the amazing, wonderful, delicious kisses of the man who held me. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling me closer to him.

He snarled, sliding a hand under my top, fingers caressing up my spine. That was enough to make me arch, throwing my head back and breaking our kiss.

“You want this.” Drask wasn’t asking, but I moaned my agreement, anyway. I’d never wanted anything more.

His grin was hungry and eager, almost predatory. Well, if he wanted to hunt me, I didn’t mind being his prey.

Setting me down on the counter again, he grabbed at my top, pulling on the fabric and trying to figure out how to open it. I scrabbled at his belt, finding the alien mechanism equally difficult to deal with, especially with my fingers trembling.

Drask gave in to his frustration first, tearing my blouse apart with a hiss. Buttons clattered everywhere, and he pulled the remains off me.

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