Page 43 of Rescued By the Alien Bull Rider

“What I want is irrelevant.” He made an odd face then.

“What is it?”

“I never thought I’d say such a thing in all my life,” he remarked with something close to bitter wonder. “And look how easily you’ve pulled it out of me.”

“Hey, don’t blame it on me,” I said, raising a brow. “Because it’s not irrelevant. At least, not to me. So. What do you want?””

He didn’t flinch, exactly. But at my words, I saw every muscle in him draw suddenly tighter.

“I do not wish to crowd you.”

That doesn’t really answer my question about where he wants to sleep…

“You won’t,” I told him. “The bed is plenty big enough for both of us.”

So,it turned out I was completely wrong. The bed was absolutely not big enough for both of us. At least, not big enough for us to share and each still have some space. I realized it the moment I lay down after Zohro put the sheet over the mattress. Even without the hay bale, the empty part of the bed, with Zohro looming over it now, looked woefully insufficient.

We might have to spoon.

A fraught giddiness zipped alone my nerves. But that feeling wasn’t fear about sharing a bed, sleeping, being entirely vulnerable beside someone who had taken the life of another.

It was a shivery excitement at the thought of Zohro wrapping his big, hard body around mine.

My eyes dipped to his crotch as he kicked off his boots.

Hard…

Did he get hard like human males? Would he?

What would I do if he did?

I hadn’t been with anyone since getting pregnant. But before that, I didn’t really have any reservations about sex. Sexually transmitted infections had been eliminated ages ago, and I was generally down to bone just about anybody who sent a drink and a wink my way at Sal’s bar. None of them were boyfriends. None of them stuck around.

And yet, here I was with someone who’d not only made a life-long commitment to me, but also to my child, and I was faced with all sorts of insecurities I’d never really worried about before.

What if we fooled around, and he decided he didn’t like it? What if he got grossed out by my bump or my swollen boobs or my stretch marks? What if, after one night with me, hedecided he’d made a mistake? What if he called off our wedding tomorrow?

What if I wasn’t enough?

Suddenly that tight, pleasantly nervous excitement just became plain old anxiety.

“You know, Zohro,” I said, rolling with not a small amount of effort onto my left side and facing the wall, “I’m actually really tired...”

“Obviously,” he said on a peevish little grunt. “That is why we are going to bed.”

The mattress sagged with his substantial weight. I held my breath, warmth and worry coursing through my veins as I waited for him to press his front up against me, to wrap himself around me, in the narrow space.

But he didn’t.

He faced away from me and slept the whole night with his back firmly wedged against mine.

18

ZOHRO

Iwoke extra early the day of my wedding and blazed through my chores like my tail was on fire. I had a frazzled sort of fear inside me that if I took too long, Jolene might wake up and have too much time on her own to think.

And then, she would inevitably change her mind about me.

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