Page 30 of Kissed By the Alien
About Narzan.
I haven’t even told Hunzu the details about my brother’s death, even though he would never judge me.
As for Lexi, she doesn’t know me and yet sheunderstandsme. I have so many questions I’m eager to ask her, so many things I want to tell her about my life… and about Narzan.
Slowly, our bodies sway to the music that exists only in our heads. The world outside is thousands of miles away, as is all the tyranny and waste littering the universe.
Lexi lifts up on her toes and presses her lips to mine. “You said not to tempt you, but?—”
I capture her lips, eager to taste her again, to make her mine. Drowning myself in her spirit will not erase what happened to Narzan, but for this brief moment, I want to feel something other than pain and loss.
“It’s okay, Lutan,” she whispers against my ear when her lips pull away. My head remains nestled in the crook of her neck and my arms lock around her. I wish I had the words to tell her how much I want her, how much I need her.
“I’ve got you,” she adds with a strength that astounds me. “You’re not alone.”
Except I am. Or I will be. As soon as I find the blasters, I’ll leave Earth. Even if Lexi would want to go with me, I will not take her. The best way to protect her is to stay away from her.
CHAPTERELEVEN
LEXI
Morning sunlight streams through the high windows of my hideout, waking me. I fell asleep in Lutan’s arms on the sofa. Last night, we held each other in a slow dance for a long time. I couldn’t pull away. Neither of us could, despite the hour.
A sadness poured off of Lutan, one he didn’t voice. This growing connection between us allowed me to understand the depth of his emotions in that moment. Loneliness, sorrow, guilt, but mostly need.
He needed me. Truly needed me. That’s a heady feeling, to be truly needed and appreciated by another.
If I don’t get home before breakfast, my father will discover I’m gone and all hell will break loose. Then he’ll tighten security, making it harder to get out.
Slowly, I slide from Lutan’s arms. The dress is wrinkled to high heaven, but Viv won’t mind. She’ll have plenty of time to iron it before her big date.
Quietly, so I don’t wake Lutan, I sift through the stash of clothing I keep here and find appropriate streetwear. Layers of baggy clothing to hide who I am as I travel through several sketchy areas to make it home.
I reach behind me to untie the strap of the halter-style dress. It seems the weight of my breasts have pulled on the fabric enough to tighten the damn knot. I could slip it over my neck, but that risks ripping Viv’s dress.
That’s when Lutan’s hand eases my hair to the side. He works on the knot and a moment later, my breasts spill free. I grab the fabric in front and hold it up to cover myself as Lutan’s hand travels down the open back over my spine. Delicious waves of pleasure move me.
“What are you doing, Lutan?” My words come out deep, throaty... needy.
“Causing trouble for both of us, I suspect.”
He’s not wrong. He eases my hand away from the front I’m holding up, and I let him.
My nipples harden as the cold air strikes, emboldening me to turn and face Lutan. His eyes remain on my face, but I see the temptation there, to look lower.
Iwanthim to look lower.
“I’ve never done this,” I sputter. “I mean, not like this. The last guy I was with, well, we kept the lights off. I preferred it that way.”
His eyes lower. “You’re beautiful, Lexi. Why would you hide yourself from anyone? Especially a pleasure mate?”
I shrug. “I was afraid of what I’d see on his face if he saw me fully naked.”
Three fingers trail along my jaw to my neck, sending a flurry of sensations through me. I tense slightly when his fingers trace over my collar bone which isn’t prominent because of my weight. But he traces it anyway with his eyes locked on me. I can’t take my eyes from his face, at the awe I see there. Because ofme.
His fingers brush the side of a breast. My nipples grow painfully hard as does a part of him lower down pressing against my belly. His hand, large and warm, cups my breast as he takes my mouth. Our tongues twine in a dance more intimate than the one we shared last night. When his thumb brushes my nipple, adding to the ache, the need for his touch, I press against his length, rubbing against him.
He steps back long enough that at first I fear I’ve been too forward, but there’s no anger or disappointment in his face. Only... reverence.
