Grimacing at herself that time, at the turn her thoughts had taken,again, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She felt like her emotions were on an out-of-control rollercoaster.
Maybe it was a coping mechanism? Focus on the handsome, protective alien guys that made her feel safe instead of on the reality of being stranded on a planet full of horrible people that wanted to turn her into a sex slave or murderer in some kind of twisted gladiator games?
That… okay, yeah, that actually made a lot of sense and made her feel better about her fixation on the guys.
She wasn’t going crazy, nor had she become emotionally unhinged. Her mind was just trying to focus on safer, less terrifying things. Psych 101.
Vi’kail made a choked sound but quickly cleared his throat. “You seek a temporary mate?”
“Huh?” Victoria blinked at Vi’kail, wondering what he was talking about.
“Boifren. My translator says that’s a temporary mate.”
“Oh. Never really thought of it that way, but, I mean, I guess that’s not actually wrong. Interesting.”
Vi’kail didn’t actually look like he found that interesting judging by his narrowed eyes and the muscle tucking in his jaw.
Thorn reclaimed her attention by guiding her gaze up to his with a finger under her chin. He bent until they were eye to eye and his thigh-clenching scent was filling her nose, bringing to mind naughty thoughts. Why the hell did he smell so good? It wasn’t fair. Now all she could think about was that glimpse she’d gotten of his cock.
“We will lodge here with you. Do you consent?” he murmured challengingly.
She caught ‘lodge’ and ‘consent’ which only served to put her thought more firmly on penises. Other than that, she had no idea what he’d just said, too busy watching the way his lips moved to listen to the actual words coming out of them.
Oddly, it sounded like a profession of everlasting love and a promise to fulfill her every deliciously naughty fantasy at first, but it was possible that could’ve been her imagination. In reality, it might’ve been anything from ‘cucumbers suck, be pickles or be nothing’ to ‘I have a great face.’
Regardless, she found herself nodding and murmuring agreeably, “You sure do.”
To the detriment of her heart, his smile widened and he booped her on the nose. She didn’t think she’d ever been so ready to melt into a puddle of need at a snoot boop before, but she most assuredly was, so maybe that was her thing and she’d just never known before that moment? Seemed plausible.
By the time he broke eye contact and released her from his magical alien sex-stare, Victoria could hear her pulse pounding in her ears and felt like she’d run a mile.
Jesus, who even needs cardio around these guys. Is there a word for feeling like you’re having a heart attack but in the best way? Because if there isn’t, there damn well should be.
Through her astute powers of observation, she felt reasonably sure he’d actually said something about them staying with her because he, Thegan, and Vi’kail all headed to the living room area and began claiming sleeping spots.
Suddenly unsure what to do with herself in her own room, she glanced at Snitch to find him small again and shoveling what appeared to be every edible item he could find in his mouth. The guys were engaged in what looked like a cross between alien rock-paper-scissors, shadow boxing, and invisible hot potato to decide who slept where.
“Soooo… I’m gonna go take a shower,” she announced quietly.
Did she say it loud enough for anyone to hear her? No. But it seemed rude to just leave without saying anything.
Pressing the screen to close the bathroom door behind her, she took a moment to get her bearings. From her previous visit, she knew there was no sink, toilet, or shower stall in the eight-by-eight-foot white room. Instead, there was a ledge at about chest height that stuck out six inches or so on the right wall, a bench that ran the length of the back wall, and a rectangular depression in the floor that took up most of the middle of the room.
Hands on her hips, she bit her lip thoughtfully.
I wonder…
“Computer, I wish to bathe,” she prompted hopefully. Nothing. “Cleanse? Wash? Uhh, remove foreign materials from my epidermis?”
“State your species,” came a softly spoken disembodied voice from seemingly thin air.
Victoria almost squealed with glee but swallowed it back, not wanting the guys or Snitch to burst in thinking she was being eaten by another inanimate object. Poor Thorn had looked decidedly unsettled over the bed thing.
“Human.”
“Customizing. State your preferred designation.”
“Designation? My name? Victoria.”