Page 16 of My Christmas Alien Mate

My hair?

I noticed earlier that it did look as if I had been swept up by a vortex, standing up in places and looking windswept in others, but I hadn't seen it as a source of amusement.

She put the spatula down and came over to me, then she stretched on her tiptoes and mussed with her hands in my hair. "I'm sorry. I guess I should have explained the blow dryer better. Hold on."

She rushed into the bathroom and was wiping her palms together rigorously when she came back out.

"Here, bend your head."

Whatever was in her hands, she smeared it into my hair and moved her fingers this way and that, and I barely suppressed a moan of deep pleasure from it. Nobody had ever touched the top of my head like this. I hadn't even known that was a turn-on.

"That's better."

Before I could look in the mirror, a pungent smell hit me. "What is that sme—"

My words were overshadowed by the loudest, most obnoxious sound I had ever heard. It was so shrill it threatened to burst my eardrums.

"Oh no!" Amber exclaimed.

She rushed to the stove, where dark, black smoke rose to the ceiling. First, she fumbled with some knobs to turn the flames off, then she began to wave a smaller towel against a round disk on the ceiling.

Figuring that the noise was coming from it, I rushed to her side and pried the thing off the wall. Instant silence followed.

"Oh, my, thank you." She looked sheepishly at me.

"What is that?"

"A fire alarm. The stove sets it off sometimes when I—"

"Burn something?" I asked, raising my eyebrows, but glad to know the humans were taking some precautions for all the fire hazards they kept in their homes.

She bit her lower lip, and her cheeks blushed endearingly. "Yep."

I held the disk up and scrutinized it. It didn't look very sophisticated, but I supposed it got the job done.

"Alright, let me see. Thank God it was only the pancake and not the bacon. That's still edible. Luckily, I already have a bunch of pancakes done. Hmm." Just when I thought she couldn't possibly become any cuter, she proved me wrong; her rambling was delightful.

"Can I do anything?" I offered, still holding the little plastic disk in my hand.

"Oh no, everything is fine, come, sit." She pointed at the table I noticed last night. "How do you like your coffee… oh silly question…" She giggled again. "You probably never had coffee."

"Can't say I have." I stepped into her space where she stood by the sink and deeply inhaled the sweet aromas coming off her. Even though I couldn't name a single one, each one reminded me of comfort and happiness, making her nearly irresistible.

One of her brown strands had come loose, and I gave in to the temptation to tuck it behind her ear. Surprised, she looked up, and when our eyes met, I couldn't stop myself. "I need to kiss you."

She gave me an imperceptible nod, and I placed the stupid plastic disk on the counter before I wound my hand around her waist to pull her closer to me. Large eyes regarded me, and I thought I read as much desire for me in them as I felt for her.

She tilted her head, opening her mouth slightly, and that was all the invitation I needed to claim her.

Her lips were as soft as they looked, and when my tongue received its first taste of her, I nearly lost it. Nothing but sweetness with a slight tang of something bitter that was intoxicating.

I wrapped my tongue around hers and groaned.

Her arms flung around my neck, and she pressed herself as much against me as possible, pushing her breasts against my torso and creating all kinds of havoc inside me. Their pressure against me was the sweetest torture a male could possibly imagine.

If I thought stealing a kiss from her would help with the sexual tension between us, I was wrong. I wanted her now more than before, as my rock-hard cock attested to.

I allowed my palm to move up and down the gentle curve of her spine and relished how her hand played with my hair again.

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