Page 12 of Whisked Away By the Alien

CHAPTERFIVE

GOLDA

Stenikov’s staying in my parents’ house for a full week. There go my plans to stay here for the holiday. I don’t think I can be in the same house with this hot guy for a week and, well, stay a virgin. Not that I’m trying to stay a virgin. Quite the opposite, in fact. I want to be at that point in my life where I’m intimate with a guy, but it has to be the right guy.

I look at this tall, gorgeous male and wonder if he could be the one. My stomach flutters and my nipples harden. I could see myself with him, but losing my virginity with my parents across the hall is definitely not the way to go.

A hand brushes against mine, pulling me from my thoughts and sending a jolt of pleasure through me. I freeze, not because I’m scared. If I stay still, he might touch me again, and I really,really, want him to touch me again.

“Mrs. Birnbaum directed me to get started on Hannukah dinner for the family. I am unfamiliar with what is required. I examined the contents of your pantry and chiller and do not see any kuvak or kirkas beef, only a flat piece of meat with a thick layer of fat on it.”

I’m amazed by how fearless he is, coming to a world where everything must be so strange compared to what he knows. “That’s the brisket. We’ll make that tomorrow. Are you comfortable cutting and slicing?”

He pulls out a four-inch knife, tosses it in the air, and catches it by the hilt… all while his eyes remain on me.

That is so incredibly sexy. And that grin of his is panty-melting. I should know because mine just burst into flames… incinerated.

One side of his mouth kicks up, sending my heart racing. Heat fills my cheeks and upper chest. I’d love to open the window, but it’s the middle of winter. Instead, I unbutton the top two buttons on my shirt, tempted to keep going. I need Stenikov as much as I need air to breathe. In my head, that sounds foolish, but my head’s not the part of me in charge right now.

“I shall demonstrate my skills.” Sten takes the knife by the tip of the blade, pulls his arm back and throws.

“Golda, I’m home.” Mom opens the kitchen door as a swoosh fills my ears. The knife sails across the kitchen and lodges in the door frame as she enters.

Mom looks at the knife, then Stenikov. I expect her to scream or run from the kitchen.

No, not my mom. New York born and bred, she not only survived an alien invasion with her entire family intact, but she also makes a lion look like a kitten when she’s riled up. Mom grabs the skillet from the stove and charges at Stenikov.

“Golda, call the police! Get the gun!”

Gun? We have a gun in the house? Since when?

Everything moves in slow motion as my mom swings the skillet at Stenikov with enough force that I envision a baseball flying into the stands at Yankee Stadium. My dad took me to see a baseball game when I was five, before the Grud invaded. Except it’s not a baseball I envision, rather a blue head with horns. Mom’s swinging that skillet like a pro.

With lightning-fast reflexes, Stenikov picks up the rolling pin and blocks the skillet. Crack! The skillet hits wood with enough force to launch Sten into outer space, but he maintains his position.

“Female, I’m not here to harm you!”

I can’t seem to make my feet or mouth move. I knew something like this was going to happen. I’m thankful she didn’t come in when he was half-naked.

When she swings again, I yell, “Stop! He’s a friend.”

The skillet stops in mid-air. “He’s an alien! Call your father!”

“Seriously, Mom? Even if Dad weren’t out of town, I’d have to race down to Mr. Kaplan’s and use his comm to contact Dad’s office. Do you think an intruder’s going to stand here, tapping his foot, waiting for Dad to get home?”

“What are you doing here?” Mom demands, glaring at our holiday helper.

“I’m Stenikov. The male you told to enter this morning while you tended to the youngling.” He bows his head slightly while keeping his eyes on my mother. Slowly, he sets the rolling pin on the counter. We both look at my mother, waiting for her to surrender the skillet.

“You are not Stenikov. He’s the young man staying with us for the week.”

“Mom, thisisStenikov, the man you’re hosting. He was in the kitchen when I arrived this morning.”

“I said man, not alien.”

“My Commander spoke with Mr. Charles Harrington from The Department of Alien Affairs.”

“That’s David’s friend,.” Mom lowers her skillet an inch.

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