Page 58 of Whoops-A-Mate From Outer Space
“There is a…” he scrunched his nose again, “wet spot.”
I blinked, then shifted. “I’m sorry. I’ll get a towel, then you can be on the other side.”
“You need dry sheets.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where they keep the spare linens and…”
He chuckled and cut me off by leaning in to kiss me. “No. Dry sheets.”
I shook my head. “I’ll find out where they keep the fresh…”
He burst into laughter. “No, my love. If I am interpreting your confusion properly, it is because you do not have dry sheets on Earth.”
My heart nearly burst at him referring to me as his love, then I remembered there was more to that statement. “Are they special?”
He nodded. “The fibers are designed to remove moisture, even spend from intercourse.”
“No wet spot?”
“No wet spot.”
“That… sounds nice.” I sighed. “In the meantime… I’ll get a towel.”
He shook his head and tugged me close again. “It can wait. I would rather deal with the wet spot than be without you beside me for even a few minutes.”
I smiled. “Ok. It can wait… for now. But I’ll grab some towels from the bathroom before the next round.”
He grinned and nodded. “Agreed.”
We cuddled close and let comfortable silence wash over us… until I heard a soft snore. I glanced at my new mate to see he’d fallen asleep.
I yawned. “A nap before the next round sounds perfect,” I whispered.
Chapter 11
Iwas the sort of satisfied sore that only happened after having good sex—though it had been long enough that I wondered if I might need to invest in some muscle cream once the rush passed. Parts of my body that usually worked without complaint were sending objections regarding the hours of fucking that Eashai and I had enjoyed during the previous afternoon and night.
The mating rush was incredible, but younger men were probably better suited for it.
Part of me wanted to make my daydream of kissing Eashai in the morning light a reality, but we’d been at it all night, and I woke up really needing to take a piss.
I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and padded to the bathroom. Once I’d relieved myself and washed my hands, I took a minute to examine myself in the mirror.
I was the same, but different. It wasn’t a change I could put into words, but I knew on some level that I was fundamentally a different man than I’d been the day before.
I was also covered in hickeys and small love bites. At some point, both of us had been unable to contain that possessive streak and had thoroughly marked each other.
I splashed some water on my face to rinse away the dried sweat and toweled off my hands. I had started back toward the bed when I heard a soft knock on the door.
I walked over and opened it, only to find nobody there. However, a small bag had been placed in front of it.
Remembering that I was still fully nude, I only stuck my head out into the hall, where I saw a uniformed soldier turning a corner.
I glanced down at the bag and picked it up. I carried it in and set it on the small desk, then opened it.
There was a note on top. I pulled it out to see a short scrawled message:
Some essentials from somebody else who has been through the rush.
