Page 17 of Rescued By the Luxirian

I followed the banging, venturing down the wraparound terrace, my bare feet meeting warm stones.

Peeking around the corner, I spied Droxan, his back to me. Shirtless and gleaming. Luxirian’s skin reflected light and he looked golden, the sun’s rays mixing with the color glinting off the terrace. His sculpted back muscles flexed as he hammered, striking what looked like a metal pipe.

There was a large machine set up down the terrace wall and Droxan was straddling the banister as he worked on it. Mymouth went a little dry watching him, a dull throbbing beginning between my thighs, remembering my dream, remembering the sharp, aching pleasure of my unsatisfying orgasm.

He can satisfy me, I thought.

I knew he could.

He was all male. All masculine, hardened planes of muscle and strength. How would he feel over my body? How would he feel pressing me down, swirling his hips, that ridged cock seated deep inside me?

I must’ve made a sound because the hammering stopped and Droxan turned. I felt flushed where I stood and embarrassed that I’d clearly slept for half the day when he was out here working so hard.

Those eyes zeroed in on me. There was an intensity in his gaze, an intensity that had awareness spiraling through me. Deep awareness of his presence. I held my breath.

He rose from the bannister, swinging those long legs over it effortlessly and gracefully. But Luxirians had once been a warrior race before many had scattered among the stars. They’d been known for their agility, their ferocity, the command they had over their bodies.

“Good morning,” I said. I’d meant for my tone to sound bright and chirpy and what I got instead was husky and low. I cleared my throat, trying again, when I smiled at him a bit sheepishly, “I guess I slept in a little late, huh?”

Droxan approached me, his legs eating up the space between us. And when he got within an arm’s length of me, he froze. His nostrils flaring. His pupils dilated, the black widening, and his shoulders seemed to bunch.

Shit.

One thing about living with different alien species was that it made you realize howlackinghumans’ senses truly were. Once, I had a neighbor—a hulking Tyul with a lizard-like snout—threedoors down complain about my perfume and whenever I cooked braised skitter fish.

Humans? We were blissfully ignorant.

He smells how turned on I am, I knew, frantically, my pulse pounding.

He could smell my arousal.

Droxan stared at mehard.

Inhaling a sharp breath, I pretended that I didn’t see the growing erection in his pants. He was a male. Living alone on this planet. He’d just scented a female’s arousal. Of course he’d be affected, I reasoned.

Captain’s Log, Day Two…how the fuck am I ever going to get off this planet before jumping this Luxirian’s bones?

Thankfully, a stiff breeze blew between us right at that very moment, blowing away whatever he was smelling.

He blinked, his shoulders loosening, the metal hammer hanging loosely in his hand.

The breeze did nothing to help his obvious boner, however, but I would be polite and try not to stare too hard.

His voice was absolutely delicious—husky and deep—when he said, “Did you sleep well?”

“A little too well, I’d say,” I murmured, peeking up at him from below my lashes. “You have a very comfortable bed.”

I couldhearhis swallow and it sent an addicting thrill through me.

“It’s Horrin made,” he said.

My eyes widened, my jaw going slack. “It is?”

Horrin beds were like…the top of the top of luxury. Crazy expensive because each one was stuffed to the brim with Horrin grownreefibers, which took five years to mature. I’d never thought toseeone in person, much lesssleepon one.

His smile went a little sheepish—adorable—and he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, which drew my eyes like a magnet to his chest. A purring sound came from his throat.

“I’m horribly spoiled,” he told me, his voice dropping again. “I visited Horrin to source supplies once and now I cannot sleep if it’s not on one of their beds.”

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