CHAPTER TWELVE

MELISSA

It’s stupid to have a crush on an alien.

As her palm grew sweaty under Jahle’s hot hand, she acknowledged the fact that her whole dating life, Mel had fallen for the wrong guy at the wrong time. She could rattle off a list of inappropriate crushes, starting with Mr. Carson in fifth grade, and ending at Perfect Paul whose only sin was imagining a white-picket-fence life with Mel. Or rather, with his ideal vision of Mel: a woman who needed him.

This is no different.

She could never be that girl for Paul. She could never be an Ennoi girl for Jahle. The weird shunning, the adherence to honor… No, she didn’t understand those concepts.

However, she did understand kindness. Only a compassionate man would risk his life to save others. Who, even when burdened with a stranger, would keep her safe. Who, when the very people who needed him most shunned him, kept his head high and kept helping. The kind of man who would hold her hand when she confessed her loneliness.

A good heart.

A fist closed around her chest. Oh. He is the right guy. But, oh, this is the wrong time!

Her hand tightened around his. “Thank you,” she said, her voice thick.

He made a grumble of inquiry.

“For keeping me safe. For helping. For being… you.”

“I could do no less.”

He sat up, and her arm cooled as his warmth moved away. The grasp on her hand didn’t loosen though. She ran a finger over his knuckles, feeling the silkiness of his skin. As she moved her finger higher, his skin grew textured, bumpy but smooth, like a snake. At this distance, she became aware of his scent. It reminded her of fall leaves and pleasure of being awash in gold and red.

The loneliness in her chest threatened to drown her in sorrow.

“You should go,” Jahle said. “The sky is beginning to cloud over. The storm returns. You should return to the Water People.”

He made to untangle his hand and stand, but she held on. He looked at her hand in confusion.

“Not yet,” she whispered. “I want to stay.”

The lantern cast harsh shadows across his face. It was clear he intended to argue, but she wouldn’t give him the opportunity. She hooked her leg around his knee, pinning him to the side of the bench. With his strength, it would be easy for him to break her hold, but he froze, locked in place by the contact.

“Please,” she said. “Not yet.”

Uncertainty filled his every gesture. His body trembled, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply. He seemed to be arguing with himself because he shook his head slightly. Slowly, as if in a trance, he bent down and pulled the lantern out from underneath the bench. Holding it high, he towered above her.

His eyes moved over her body, and Mel became aware of the thinness of her T-shirt. Her cheeks grew hot. No bra, because she had shed it the second she had returned from her disastrous date. Not to mention the ugly haircut, the scabs on her palms, or the fact that she had been wearing the same clothes for almost a week now.

Yet under the heat of his gaze, her concerns melted away. The dirt on her skin didn’t matter to him. The glint in his eye told her as much.

“You are asking a lot of me,” he said. His voice was harsh.

She tilted her chin down, and reluctantly loosened her hold. “Sorry, I just…”

“You ask a lot of me,” he said, placing the lantern on the edge of the divan, “because you do not realize how badly I wish to take you into my arms.”

He leaned forward and nudged her legs open with his knees. Crawling across the divan, across her body, he arched over her, his hands on either side of her. Blood roared in Mel’s ears at his closeness.

“You do not realize,” he whispered, “what this will mean.”

Everything and nothing, she wanted to reply, but before she could speak, Jahle bent down and rested his weight on his elbows. He brushed his lips against hers. The contact made her breath hitch.

“You tempt me.” He tickled his lips against her jaw. “And I am weak against you.”

“Oh.” It was all she could muster in reply, because her brain seemed to short circuit when Jahle touched her.

That elicited a laugh from him, deep in his chest. “We have swapped roles. I cannot shut up, and you cannot speak.” Heat filled his eyes. “Let’s keep it that way.”

He bent down and pressed his lips to hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth when she made to reply. He tasted like stew, but she didn’t care, because underneath she could taste him, delicious and dizzying. The kiss was dark and dangerous, and it drove every logical thought from her mind.

She wrapped her arms around him and drew him closer. His weight settled down on to her chest, pressing against her breasts. It made breathing difficult, or maybe that was just the passion in their kiss. His hands burrowed into her hair, and pleasure curled down her body and nestled low in her belly.

“Do you know how good you taste?” he murmured. “How soft you feel? How long I have wanted you?”

His hands clenched the fabric of her shirt, lifting it slightly. The air rushed to touch her exposed skin, strangely cool against the heat radiating off Jahle’s body.

“I want to touch you everywhere, Mel.” He released her shirt and slid his hand onto her belly. The chill from the air faded. “Show me where to touch you.”

Her hand guided his upward, to cup her breast. The flicking of her fingers over her taut nipple sent goosebumps racing down her arms. In the quiet of the night, the moan that escaped her lips seemed too loud. She bit back the sound.

“Don’t,” he urged. “Don’t hold back. If this is only for tonight, I want to enjoy it.”

Only for tonight?

But he was cupping her back with his arm and pulling her shirt off and lowering his face to her chest, so Mel couldn’t ask him what he meant. His teeth nipped at her skin, each nibble pulling her away from her thoughts and into the here and now.

Jahle’s hunger became evident as his hands began to wander over her body, across her chest, over her neck and down her arms. She met his exploration with her own, feeling the way his strong muscles rippled under his skin, the way his braids tickled her skin, and the way his back curved over her like a dome, protecting her from the sky.

“More,” he mumbled into her skin. “Where else can I touch you?”

Everywhere.

The lock on her voice remained in place, so she fumbled a hand between them. He hissed when her knuckles scraped against the front of his pants. The involuntary sound wound its way down into the coil of passion rolling in her belly. Her need for him grew sharper.

The button on the front of her jeans proved to be a hindrance until Jahle shifted his weight onto his elbows, giving her hands access. She kicked off the jeans as he watched, his eyes predatory. Her eyes flicked down to his pants, and he took the hint, striping himself in an instant.

The sight of his erection gave her pause. She bit her lip, then fought back the sudden jolt of concern. She had grown used to Jahle. Somewhere along the line, she had stopped seeing him as an alien, and had considered him just Jahle. Now, face-to-face with his nudity, she was reminded that, as toe-curlingly gorgeous as he was, he wasn’t human.

The doubts fled when she met his eyes, and saw the warmth there. Their differences didn’t matter. He didn’t see her as The Human anymore. She was just Mel.

I can live with that.

When she beckoned, he drew close again, pressing his length into her belly. She shifted her legs, opening up to him. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and guided him toward her. He shook off the spell of their arousal.

“Wait,” he said. “I want-”

“Tell me.” Her fingertips brushed the bumps lining his cock. “What do you want?”

All his words fled him. He moaned, and rested his forehead against hers. “You,” he ground out. “I want you.”

“I’m yours,” she whispered, kissing the tip of his nose. “And you are all mine.”

The words undid him. He moaned as he slipped inside her, and Mel arched her back as he filled her. Pleasure flooded her, from the top of her scalp down to the toes she ground into his calf muscles. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Her fingernails bit into his shoulder. The stars above swirled.

He murmured something in her ear, but either the translator didn’t pick it up, or she was so lost she couldn’t concentrate enough to understand. He gave her a moment, letting her come back down, until her breathing leveled out again.

“Okay?” he asked, brushing aside a lock of her hair. The tenderness in his eyes made her own eyes sting.

She simply nodded.

“Okay.” He began to move.

The ridges inside her jolted sensations with every thrust. She gripped his shoulder and held on, enjoying the slow build of motion and friction. His thumbs nestled into the curves of her hips, and he hitched her upward, pulling her to him. Mel wiggled closer, eagerly accepting everything he offered. When he finally pushed her over the edge, she threw back her head and moaned his name.

For a while, nothing seemed to exist. Only pleasure, joy, and a sense of belonging she never felt before.

This is where I am meant to be.

When her orgasm abated, she blinked sleepily. She patted Jahle’s shoulder and then froze.

He shook. Hard shudders wracked his body. For a second, she wondered if he was having a seizure. He rolled to a seated position on the divan, and lowered his head. His head must have hurt because he scrubbed his hand across his forehead.

“You okay?” She sat up.

He touched his chest with a hand, and closed his eyes. “Yes. I… need to sleep.”

He grunted as he collapsed beside her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and snuggled into her. Within a few seconds, the pained expression on his face smoothed into sleep.

Mel stifled a yawn. Sleep sounded good. She lay back and stared upward. The wind had picked up again. A few stars still shone above, but the sky roiled with heavy clouds once more. As her eyes fluttered closed, she snuggled her face into Jahle’s hair, smelling the heady evidence of his exertion.

We’re going to wake up covered in dust.

She sighed and relaxed. Her eyes closed and the night sky faded from her view.

We can deal with that tomorrow.