Page 14 of The Alien's Little Sister

Looking somehow more mortified, she does. I toss it, wash up and bring her a proper napkin. I drop down beside her on the couch and drag a styrofoam tray over to me on the little table in front of us. “Okay, these are the parts that are food, see?” I brush her arm to get her attention when I see she’s got her lips pressed together, keeping her eyes downcast. “Hey, it’s no big deal. If I went to your planet, I’d be a fish out of water. You’re doing amazing, Inara, really. All day, I thought you were a human.”

This makes her eyes brighten. “You did?”

“Yeah. I thought you were a batshit crazy one, but I never for one second pegged you for a real live alien.”

She smiles at me. “That is amazing!”

Her tail coils up by our feet. Her long, covered in scales, flexible, strong-looking, sonotrobotic tail.

“Yeah. It is kind of amazing.” I close my teeth over the beef skewered on the kabob and drag it off its stick. Chewing, I hold the rest of the skewer out to her.

She stares at the offering, shocked.

I try not to frown. “Here. Take it.” I glance at the other offerings, cataloguing contents. I jerk my head at them. “You should be good now. I think everything else in these containers is a hundred percent food.”

Her eyes search me strangely, intensely. “You are offering me food of your own portion.”

I wiggle the kabob. “That’s right.” I try to think if there’s anything with seeds or pits that aren’t normally consumed and come up empty. “Time to master kabobs. Come on. Take the stick. Show it how it’s done. They call this getting back on the horse.”

With a hesitant smile, she meets my eyes and accepts the kabob. She gamely bites into a skewered baby corn, and I watch her teeth thinkingDAMN.

She’s got a set of tiger chompers on her.

I don’t know why I find them kinda sexy.

“Good?” I ask.

She swallows and smiles. “Yes, thank you.”

“Good. Tomorrow we’ll try Mexican.”

She takes the next chunk off her skewer, politely chewing and swallowing before attempting to talk. When I ease back into the couch, she tries to sit back too, but her horns are just long enough to prevent her from resting her head with natural ease. They jab into the headrest of the sofa so that it looks like her head is suspended by double pikes: not comfortable. She straightens and wipes her mouth with the napkin I gave her. “We will eat together tomorrow? What is the significance of ‘Mexican?’”

“I’m not letting you go to work hungry. And we’ll have Mexican because I’ve been jonesing for it like crazy. Steak, rice, queso, and all the grilled peppers and avocado you can eat. And salty tortilla chips with salsa.” I can almost taste it now, and I wish I had that in front of me. Not necessarilyinsteadof Chinese. Let’s not get crazy. Why not have a living room buffet of both?

The idea nearly makes me salivate. I shake myself and look back to my adorably-baffled guest. “What’s not to love?”

“I don’t know.”

Poor girl. “We will fix that.”

I grab a carton of lo mein. I twirl the noodles on my fork and hold it up for her to take a bite. “Try this.”

Her gaze locks on mine, and when she shifts just the slightest bit closer and parts her lips, my system’s NOS panel gets triggered without any warning.

You know the one. Like the 1967 Shelby Mustang GT500 inGone in 60 Seconds,remember how Memphis flips up the NOS switch, stomps that button, and grabs thatGO-BABY-GOshifter? You remember what happens?

It must be the combination of her beautiful eyes, her exotic scent, her quirky charisma, her interest for mechanics—and her lips (I suspect it might be these most of all)—and my brain and body, which had been operating at an intelligent level, is immediately fed an additional one hundred and twenty-five horsepower in aGO-BABY-GO!direction.

This is bad.

This is a woman I’ve brought into my house under my protection. You do not dick with anyone you bring in under the banner of sanctuary. That’s one door down from sacrilege.

Iknowall this. Yet the moment is suddenly taking on a very different charge than I expected. A dangerous one.

See, sometimes men get erections for no reason. Those are frustrating and confusing. We also get them for pretty understandable reasons, like when we get a particular interest in someone. Those are not always frustrating, because sometimes it's appropriate to make a move on the object of our interest.

But in this instance, in all of a heartbeat, I have a half-on because I’ve offered to feed an alien employee. It’s not a full-blown meat wrench, but it’s uncomfortably stiff.

---