Page 44 of The Alien's Little Sister

Her eyes bounce up to mine again, and a deviously hot smile spreads over her mouth. “It’s dark outside.”

“It is,” I confirm, trying to tell my body to calm down. I can’t just attack Inara every time she gets me going. I’m not fifteen. I’ve learned control.

Inara licks her lips, her eyes dancing.

My dick says it has no control where she’s concerned and if I want to claim otherwise, I can speak for myself. Plus, at my age, I’m not about to waste a good hard-on and a willing woman.

“Human eyes do not see well in the dark,” Inara tells me like she wants me to verify this.

I verify it. “That’s right.”

Her gaze drops again to the front of my tenting slacks. “Maybe you could show me what happens in the back seat of cars. I am… very curious,” she admits—but she doesn’t sound like she’s curious. She sounds like she’s breathless and starving.

And so, we use my thirty remaining minutes of quiet time with me on top of her, rocking my precious, classic car hard enough to test the shocks, and fogging up the windows so thoroughly that there’s no question what’s happening inside.

It goes without saying that I've never done this before, fooling around in this car. It feels supremely dangerous, and wrong, and therefore hot as fuck.

My skin is onfire.Inara is voracious, and her purring is making my eyes cross.

Stacy’s opinion about the backseat being cramped is no joke, especially in our case, where you’re talking about a classic Mustang. We don’t even try to make it work. But even with the front seats slid all the way back to give us the maximum room on the two front buckets, it’s cramped quarters. Illustrated nicely when Inara’s horn cracks into the door window—causing a literal snaking break to etch the glass—(on any other day I’d flip my absolute shit if this car got so much as a ding, but Inara’s got her hand wrapped around my cock, so… the ghost of my grandpa surely understands. And so does the vehicle, I’m sure.Sorry, car. I’ll lovingly fix you later, and we’ll have all these memories of Inara to replay while I do...)and then her other horn gets hung up on the shoulder-rest portion of the passenger seat.

When Inara tries to tip her head to get her horn free so her neck isn’t strained, her horn slides down and gets caught between the seat and the simulated wood grain interior of the side of the car. (Yes, the ribbing on her horn is scraping the hell out of the wood grain, but again—and this is why I’ve never risked having a woman in this car before—her hand is on my dick.Thus, my dick calls the shots. And my dick does not care about cars. It doesn’t care at all. I knowIwill care later. I’m sure I’ll care a lot—but it will be later.)

We find a sweet position with her cheek pressed to the lip of the seat, her horns pointed towards the rear window, and her back swooped hard so that I can fit in behind her, pop the door open(turn off the fucking interior lights so no one sees!),stand outside and eat her. Cover her. Slam the door shut and ride the ever-living fuck out of her.

And freakin’ hotdamn does she smellgood.Her scent gets stronger as I pound into her, her perfume driving me insane.

When we melt out like satisfied sex weasels, I help Inara fix her outfit, and I’m downright relaxed when we stroll back into the building.

Stacy takes one look at Inara’s wild mane of leather dreads and her eyes widen—before she pans a knowing, gleeful look on me. “In the parking lot?! You dirty, dirty hypocrite!” She sounds scandalized but victorious to have caught me being a hypocrite. Then she’s double—maybe triple—shocked as something else occurs to her. “You shagged in your grandpa’sBoss?!”

Feeling only a little ill about that last point, I shrug off the rest—the hypocrite thing. Then I catch Inara by the elbow—she’d been grinning at her best pal, Stacy—and I spin her, and dip her, and kiss the hell out of her.

“You’re distracting,” I inform Inara. “But that was the best quiet time I’ve ever had.” I pop her affectionately on her ass.

Her tail swipes the air, surprised.

Grinning at her, I give the base of it a tug and enjoy her gasp.

Stacy watches us with no shame, like we’re her personal soap opera.

What we are is basically a pair of criminals. When you do damage to a classic Mustang like we did, you pretty much deserve to be looking at jail time, because it’s borderline animal cruelty and just as heinous.

“Have fun at work,” Inara purrs to me, her pretty alien eyes flashing because she knows how my body reacts to her making this sound

“You too,” I murmur to her, thumbing the nearly smooth scales of her cheekbone. “You are so damn pretty.”

She beams at me.

Then I let her go and stroll into my office, not an ounce of irritation left in me, not for anyone or anybody. I might not get tied up about anything ever again period. After a magical unscheduled break with Inara in which we damaged my car of all things, I’m just… chill.

“Where has Inara been all your life?” Stacy whispers to me from the doorway.

“Hmm?” I ask.

“She makes you sonice,”Stacy cries, waving her arm happily, indicating the direction of Inara’s game room. “You should have come as a set. Like from day one of your life. That way you’d never be mean or grumpy at all.”

“I’m not mean,” I sort of say but ask at the same time, a little concerned about Stacy’s answer. “Have I been mean?”

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