Page 22 of The Alien's Runaway Bride

Vexor’s lips twitched in amusement as he knelt beside her. “Sounds like an intense scout program.”

His smile faded as he examined her injuries. The gash on her forehead had stopped bleeding, but her ankle was swollen to twice its normal size, an angry purple bruise blooming across the skin.

“This might hurt,” he warned, his fingers hovering over her ankle.

Raelee gritted her teeth. “Just do it. I can take it. I once watched all the Twilight movies in one sitting. This is nothing.”

Vexor raised an eyebrow, not understanding the reference but appreciating her attempt at humor. He gently probed the injury, his touch clinical yet tender. Raelee hissed in pain, her hand instinctively grabbing his forearm. The contact sent a jolt through Vexor, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the point where their skin met.

Clearing his throat, Vexor focused on the task at hand. He retrieved the first aid kit from his pack, thanking the stars for his extensive medical field training. As he cleaned and bandaged her wounds, his mind raced. Anger bubbled up inside him—anger at the mercenaries who had dared to hurt her, anger at himself for putting her in danger, anger at the universe for the impossible situation he found himself in.

“There,” he said, securing the last of the bandages, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. “It’s not pretty, but it’ll do until we can get you proper medical attention.”

Raelee flexed her foot experimentally, wincing slightly. “Not bad, Vex. Where’d you learn first aid? Secret agent’s school? Or maybe you’re a superhero in disguise. Ooh, are you Batman? Please tell me you’re Batman.”

Vexor’s lips quirked in a half-smile, grateful for her ability to lighten the mood. “If I were Batman, I’d have a much cooler car. And probably more body armor.”

“Fair point,” Raelee conceded. “Though I have to say, you handled those mercenaries like a pro. Seriously, where did you learn to fight like that? Because last I checked, most businessmen don’t know how to disarm a guy with a roundhouse kick.”

Vexor tensed, scrambling for a plausible explanation. “I... had an unconventional upbringing. My family believed in being prepared for anything.”

“Anything?” Raelee arched an eyebrow. “Even damsels in distress with a penchant for trouble?”

“Especially those,” Vexor replied, his voice softening. “They’re the most dangerous kind.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension. Vexor cleared his throat, breaking the spell. “You should rest. I’ll see what I can scrounge up for dinner.”

He retreated to the small kitchen area, grateful for the chance to collect himself. Since most of the park’s overnight visitors ate at the small café in the main building, the cabin’s cupboards yielded a meager feast: canned soup, stale crackers, and a jar of peanut butter that had probably been there since the Carter administration.

“Hope you’re not expecting a five-star meal,” Vexor called out as he worked. “Unless you count the mold on these crackers as a rare delicacy.”

Raelee’s laugh drifted in from the other room. “After the day we’ve had, I’d eat a shoe if you put enough hot sauce on it.”

As they ate their humble meal by the fireplace, Vexor found himself captivated by Raelee. The flickering flames cast a warm glow over her features, softening the bruises and scrapes.

“...and that’s how I ended up banned from the Lincoln Memorial for a month,” Raelee finished, grinning impishly.

Vexor shook his head in amazement. “I’m beginning to think you’re more trouble than those mercenaries.”

“Guilty as charged,” Raelee winked. “But admit it, your life would be boring without me.”

The truth of her words hit Vexor like a physical blow. His life had been nothing but duty and responsibility before Raelee crashed into it. Now, everything was brighter, more vivid, more alive. The realization only made what he knew he had to do even more painful.

Vex cupped her cheek and leaned forward, capturing her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. Raelee melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as they tumbled together onto the plush rug in front of the fire.

Their tongues danced as Vex undid the buttons of Raelee’s blouse, revealing her creamy flesh. Her nails raked down his back, eliciting the fiercest of growls from deep within his chest.

After removing her clothes, Vex kissed a trail along Raelee’s collarbone. Her gasps of pleasure spurred him on. He worshiped her breasts, his tongue flicking, teasing each sensitive nipple until she arched her back, lost in the sensation.

He loved how she responded to him.

Raelee was no passive participant either. Her fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him where she wanted him, her hips grinding against his hardness in a primal rhythm as old as time itself.

The fire’s glow cast shadows on the wall as if there were more than just the two of them in the room. Time seemed to slow, each moment stretching into an eternity as they savored every touch, every taste, every sound.

Vex gently guided her onto her back, his body above hers, his piercing gaze boring into hers.

Her gaze locked with his, watching him. Without breaking the eye contact, he sank down between her legs and nudged her thighs apart. When he spread her lips, she sucked in a breath. “So wet.”

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