Page 6 of Whisked Away By the Alien

I spin around, abandoning the recipe box. “No insult taken. Help me figure out what we’re going to do, okay?” I can’t help getting bossy. My mind’s racing a million miles a minute trying to figure out how to keep hurricane Gertrude from coming down here and scaring off this huge hunk of heavenly alien.

Not that I think anything will scare him. But I can definitely envision my mom chasing him out of the house with her broom like she would a mouse. In fact, she did that once to a boy I brought home. Chased him with her broom all the way down the street. I’d liked him, but Mom said he wasn’t good enough for me. It turns out she was right, but I was sixteen, stupid, and we were still under Coalition rule. I thought dating a guy who’d joined the Brotherhood would benefit us. I was wrong.

As I look at Sten, I wonder if my ability to judge people has improved over the years. I sure hope so. He’s sweet and seems like an honest guy, but he has horns. Really big horns like the type that are made into the shofar we blow into during the high holidays in the fall.

Blow. Oh, God, the area between my thighs is heating up. I’ve heard my roommates talk about giving blow jobs, and how they love it. Picturing myself on my knees in front of this guy isn’t the way to start a friendship.

“What are we going to do about what?” His deep voice pulls me and my thoughts out of the gutter.

“You,” I answer point blank. “We can’t have an alien here.”

“My orders are to perform tasks for your family. I knocked on the door and your mother commanded me to enter and proceed to the kitchen to cook.”

“My mom has a way of barking orders like she’s in the military.”

“She would make a superb commander.”

“You don’t know the half of it. Between her and Bubbe, I don’t have a lot of freedom here. That’s the reason I got an apartment. Technically, I share one with four other women. But it’s still freedom compared to living here.”

His brows pinch together. Likely because I’m babbling. Poor guy shouldn’t have to endure listening to me ramble. “You said someone ordered you here?”

“My commander. He’s giving me another chance to prove myself. Commander Kesk warned me to be on my best behavior and not insult any humans while I’m here. Or to have sex in public.”

My mouth drops open.

Stenikov places a thick finger beneath my chin and closes my jaw. “I had that same reaction when Commander Kesk cited that rule. Is having public sex a privilege reserved for humans on Earth?”

“Definitely not. I mean, no, it’s not reserved for humans… I mean, no one should be having public sex, human or alien. Don’t even suggest otherwise around my parents or Bubbe.”

“This Bubbe sounds like a formidable opponent.”

“A hundred pounds of spit and fire.”

“A huntsu from the fire pits on Trinoth?”

“Just a badass from the Lower East Side. Bubbe will be here for dinner tomorrow night.”

Sten pulls a knife from the butcher block on the counter. “I am prepared.”

I’m tempted to ask if he’d prefer to use a vegetable peeler for the potatoes, but he looks more comfortable with that knife in his hand. Which has me thinking about how I should make use of him in the kitchen.

My eyes jump to the center island that’s sturdy enough to support my weight. God, help me, my mind keeps returning to the gutter, ready to set up permanent residence there. It’s Stenikov’s fault for being drop-dead gorgeous and mentioning public sex.

I reach into a drawer and take out the rolling pin. “We better get started cooking. We’ll start with latkes. They’re easy enough to heat up the next day. One less thing to cook tomorrow.”

“Latkes?”

“Potato pancakes. They’re delicious. And messy. Which reminds me… Aprons!”

* * *

STENIKOV

As Golda rootsthrough a drawer filled with fabric, I watch her shapely backside. The thoughts going through my head are not proper, especially while I’m working. Though my usual duties don’t include cooking, I’m here to interact with humans and to learn about them and their confusing ways.

And my drekking cock keeps pressing against these pants that I’m now convinced were created to torture males. How do humans put up with such confining fabric? Is this how the females here fight against the males who oppress them? I will have to watch myself around Golda, as she is not only beautiful, but clever.

“Found it!” She springs to her feet, with a white fabric in her hand.

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