by S. E. Smith
“Soap? Really?” Brogan snickered.
“Shut up and get out of my head. This is my fantasy,” he muttered, returning his focus to the soap bubbles.
Ten minutes later, Delilah was toweling herself off. She had cut short her deliciously hot shower when she’d noticed the light in the bathroom flickering. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck covered in soap bubbles with no running water. The idea of having to do a mad dash downstairs to the breaker box and back up again in a towel with two strangers in the house was also a great motivator.
She pulled off the shower cap and hung it on the hook in the shower to dry, then picked up her bra, and fastened it. She winced when she felt a slight tingle to her left nipple where the bracelet touched it. Taking a closer look at it, she ran her finger along the smooth, silky surface, looking for a reason. It was warm, but she didn’t feel anything pointy. She looked down, gently probing her nipple, but didn’t feel anything unusual. Shrugging, she finished pulling her bra on before grabbing the thigh-length burgundy sweater that she had found down at the Alleghany Cares thrift shop.
A shiver ran through her when a draft of cold air flowed out of the vent in the floor from the old furnace that piped heat through the house. She slipped on a pair of lace and silk panties and groaned in frustration. She’d forgotten to grab a pair of thermal underwear to put on under her jeans.
Walking over to the door, she placed her ear against it. When she didn’t hear anything, she unlocked the bathroom door and peeked out. Silence and warmth greeted her. She needed to install the small gas fireplace in the bathroom soon. It was still in the box down in the cellar. Up until now, she had been leaving the bathroom door open to allow some heat to enter the bathroom.
She opened the door, glanced quickly at the closed door to her bedroom and hurried over to her dresser. Pulling open the drawer where she kept her cold weather undies, she pulled out a pair of thermals and shut the drawer. Turning, she was about to step into the leggings when a movement on her bed caught her attention. She looked up and froze. A massive golden cat was lying in the center of her king-size bed. It rose to its feet, stretched, and yawned, revealing two canine teeth that had to be at least ten inches long, and as sharp as a butcher’s knife.
Delilah released a bloodcurdling scream that would have made Fay Wray envious. The creature shook and the golden mane swirled around its head. Her mouth remained open even as the sound of the scream faded. She watched in astonishment as the creature sneezed and sat down like it was one of her dogs – on her side of the bed! It had moved her pillow to the end of the bed, and now it rubbed its chin against it.
“Oh, hell no!” she growled, her eyes flaring before she glared at the creature. “That is my side! If you aren’t going to eat me, then move your ass over to the other side of the bed – and quit rubbing on my pillow! God, you’re as bad as the dogs,” she groaned.
Brogan made it to the staircase a half second before Barrack. His long legs took the steps three at a time as he charged up to the second floor. His heart was pounding as he slid into the wall at the top and bounced off. Even though Barrack’s symbiot was trying to reassure them that everything was alright, the sound of Delilah’s terrified scream had sent a shockwave of fear through him.
Brogan burst through the door, barely managing to keep from ripping it off its hinges. His wild eyes searched the room, stopping on Delilah who was pointing a shaking finger at something. Rotating on his heel to see who she was yelling at, he drew in a shuddering breath when Barrack’s symbiot turned its head and grinned at him.
“What happened?” he demanded, taking a deep, calming breath.
“What happened? What happened? Do you not see that there is a huge… thing, on my bed? What in the hell is it?” Delilah demanded, stomping her foot. “I swear, ever since you two appeared in my house strange shit has been happening. Will you leave my damn pillow alone?” she turned and snapped. “I told you to get your ass on the other side of the bed!”
Brogan watched with relieved amusement as Delilah reached out and grabbed the corner of her pillow, jerking it out of the symbiot’s reach. She held it, along with a pair of brightly colored leggings and a blue pair of pants against her heaving chest.
His gaze followed the movement of her breasts, remembering the small tweak he had given her nipple when she brushed his symbiot bracelet over it. The grin on his face was quickly hidden when he felt Barrack elbow him to the side so he could enter the room. He stepped aside, but his eyes hungrily moved over Delilah’s bare legs.
“Eyes to the face, alien man,” she ordered, snapping her fingers.
Brogan immediately raised his eyes to her face. He couldn’t keep the grin from his lips when he saw the exasperation on her face. She pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Men! I swear, if you are aliens, then all of you come from the same place – Planet Horneywood! Now, will someone please tell me what in the hell that… thing is?!” she demanded again with a pointed look at him.
“Barrack’s symbiot. Mine is currently watching your beasts downstairs,” he replied.
“Barrack’s symbiot – oh, well that explains everything,” she sarcastically replied. “Can you expand upon that? My definition of a symbiot and yours may be slightly different. I want to know if I need to worry about that thing eating me or taking over my body.”
“The only ones who will be eating you are us,” Barrack replied, reaching out to stroke his symbiot when it shimmered.
Behave, Brogan warned the symbiot. She isn’t ready yet. Remember what Asim, Pearl, Jaguin, and Sara told us.
The symbiot responded to his chiding by sending Delilah a vivid image of her between the two men. Brogan winced when he heard Delilah’s sudden hiss. His gaze shifted from the symbiot to her shocked face. The intense desire to kiss her overshadowed his common sense.
Brogan stepped in front of her and cupped her face. “You are so beautiful to me,” he murmured before he bent his head toward her.
The stars that swam before his eyes had nothing to do with the kiss he had wanted and everything to do with her knee impacting his groin. This was the second time his manhood had received such abusive treatment in a matter of hours.
He removed his hands from her face as the intense pain registered. His knees trembled and he stumbled back, trying to remain upright when all he wanted to do was curl up on the floor. It would appear the Goddess was going to grant him his wish because when he leaned forward, Delilah delivered a powerful punch to his recently healed nose and a right hook to his jaw.
“What the… why did you do that?” Barrack asked in a startled voice.
“Two words: personal space. Remember them,” she growled.
“Where… where did you learn to fight like this?” Brogan groaned.
He rolled onto his back and looked up at her. He had one hand on his throbbing nose, the other on his equally pounding crotch, and his eyes were glued to a pair of black silk panties. She had dropped her pillow and the clothing she had been clutching when she hit him.
She flushed and gripped the sides of her sweater, pulling it tight as she scooted to the side. She bent at the last second and grabbed the leggings and the blue pants from the floor.
“It’s called boxing. I learned it from a book. You might want to try reading one about respecting other people’s personal space,” she snapped before she straightened and strode over to the bathroom door with a toss of her head. “And tell that thing to get off my side of the damn bed!” she added, before slamming the door and locking it.
Brogan turned his head and stared up at the ceiling. He released his nose and reached for the pillow that was lying on the floor next to him. Grunting, he shoved it under his head and relaxed before he commanded the symbiot wrapped around his wrist to heal his bruised body once again.
His chuckle blended with Barrack’s. He shook his head. Their quiet chuckles turned to full-fledged laughter, drawing more groans from him as the small symbiot moved from one spot to
another.
“She read it in a book,” Barrack repeated, taking a deep breath and shaking his head in amazement.
“Personal space – I need to read…. Goddess, I don’t know what hurts worse, my balls, my jaw, my nose, or my pride,” Brogan admitted, closing his eyes. “She has a very strong punch for someone so small.”
“As long as she takes it out on you, I’ll be fine,” Barrack retorted. “You should have seen your face, brother. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such shock on it before.”
Brogan tilted his head and looked up at Barrack. “Me? You should have seen yours when she hit you between the eyes with the shovel. She is upset you bent it, by the way. You will have to repair her tool,” he said, wincing when he realized that he had a cut on his lip. “I never want to be kicked or kneed in the groin again.”
“You could try wearing a cup,” Delilah commented as she opened the bathroom door, completely dressed this time.
Brogan looked at her with a frown. “Why would I put a cup in my pants?” he asked.
He followed her with his eyes as she walked over to him and bent over his prone figure. She looked down at him and grinned, her eyes glittering with amusement. He warily watched her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Baseball, sweetheart,” she said before she pulled her pillow out from under his head. “And my pillow is off limits to dogs, symbiots, and alien males.”
He winced when the back of his head thudded against the carpeted floor. He guessed he should be thankful the floor underneath was wooden and his head had only been a few inches from it. She straightened and tossed her pillow on the bed. Barrack quickly moved from her side of the bed when she glared at him. She turned on her heel and walked out of the bedroom door.
“Where are you going?” Brogan demanded, sitting up as she exited the room.
“To the kitchen,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m still starving, despite someone’s promise of food.”
For a moment, he sat on the floor watching her walk down the long hallway. He waved his symbiot away when it moved to run over the back of his head. He knew he had a stupid grin on his face, but he couldn’t help it. Their mate definitely wasn’t afraid of them.
I no have to read book to know how to bite, his dragon informed him with a gleeful sigh.
Oh, shut up, he muttered, grabbing Barrack’s hand when his brother offered it to him.
Chapter Eleven
Delilah held onto the railing and skipped down the stairs. She couldn’t keep the goofy grin off her face. For some reason, the knowledge that the men upstairs were aliens – though she was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that her dream of them was real – instead of drug cartel thugs didn’t scare her as much as it probably should.
She paused at the end of the staircase and shook her head in disbelief. Moonshine and Rum were chasing more than a dozen tiny flying golden dragons while a large golden version of the dogs watched from her refinished and newly reupholstered antique settee.
“Okay, I concede. I have aliens in my house. Fat lot of protection you two wimps turned out to be,” she informed the dogs when they looked up at her with happy grins and their tongues lolling out.
She stepped down the last step and padded down the hall, pausing and looking up when the lights flickered again and then went out. She sighed when the lights didn’t come back on. They would be down for the count more than likely until after the storm. Thank goodness daytime was almost here.
“Well, the sky will probably not get much brighter,” she said, looking out of the kitchen window as she entered at the overcast skies barely lightened by the rising sun.
A glance around the room told her that her aliens had been busy. All of the bags of food that she had placed on the table, floor, and counter had been put away. Curious to see if they were able to figure out where everything went, she opened the refrigerator.
“Oh… my,” she said, straightening and shaking her head.
Closing the refrigerator, she started opening the cabinets. She chuckled as she went through each of the upper cabinets where she kept her dishes, food, and her limited selection of spices. Completely intrigued, she walked over to the pantry door and opened it. She felt along the shelf for the battery-operated light.
Tapping the light on, she looked at the shelves. She was currently using the space for storing the tools and materials she used to renovate the house. It was more convenient than the basement and she didn’t need a pantry full of food when she and the dogs were only here during the weekends.
“Wow!” she mused, shaking her head and staring at the shelves.
“What is wrong?” Brogan asked.
She looked at him and raised an eyebrow before turning her gaze to Barrack standing behind him. If she had to guess, this was the work of Barrack. Brogan struck her as the more impulsive of the two. She looked at the shelves one last time before she turned off the light and closed the door.
“Someone has some compulsive organizational issues,” she replied, looking pointedly at Barrack. “I can organize a library like no one else, but my personal life is never so neat.”
“Why do you say that? I think your home is very organized. Even Barrack commented that I should take a lesson from you since I would not listen to him,” Brogan asked.
“I’m not this good,” she admitted with a laugh and waved her hand toward the pantry door, the refrigerator, and the cabinets. “Everything is organized by size, product, and all labels are facing forward. I’m positively shocked that you didn’t alphabetize them. You aren’t falling down on the job, are you, Barrack?” she teased.
Barrack mock-scowled at her. “We didn’t learn how to read your language or it would be,” he retorted with a responding grin, looking that she’d noticed and recognized his touch behind the work.
“No worries. I think you did a good enough job without knowing the ABC’s. I might have to get you to help me at the library,” she commented, a little shocked that she was actually teasing the men – and they were reciprocating. At least this was better than being terrified, she decided. Her stomach growled. “It looks like the power is out. I have a generator, but I’d like to avoid using it except for emergencies and running the pump for showers and such. It uses the same propane tank that I use for the fireplaces, stove, hot water heater, and dryer. It’s a choice between running the generator for about a week or the rest of the stuff for at least three months, depending on how warm I want the house. I’d rather not chance running out with the crazy weather we’ve been having. Unfortunately, that means no pump; so no water. We can fill up some buckets with snow and let it melt to use in the toilets.” She paused and looked uncertainly at the men standing in front of her. “I mean, that’s if aliens use the bathroom. Not that I really need to know if you have the equipment for it, just if you do, I want to make sure you guys are house-trained and know how to flush the toilets.”
“We must relieve ourselves on occasion, and we do it using a facility similar to your own,” Barrack retorted.
Delilah raised her hands. “That’s all I need to know. I figured from Brogan’s reaction when I hit him in his family jewels that you guys might have some of the same equipment down south, but it never hurts to ask, just in case,” she replied, her eyes instinctively moving to the area she was referring to.
She tried to keep her expression neutral, but from Brogan’s muffled laughter, she must not have done a very good job of concealing her thoughts. She lifted her gaze to his and shrugged, once again thankful for a skin color that helped hide her heat-filled cheeks.
Her growling stomach reminded her that she was hungry. She turned to look at the package lying on the counter. It was a package of Top Ramen.
Perfect! she thought with a sense of relief.
The noodle soup was quick, filling, and easy to fix. A pan of hot water, and in five minutes, she would have a bowl filled with noodles and a mystery powdered broth packet that would either kill her eventually or pr
eserve her body forever. At the moment, she didn’t care. She was hungry. Besides, the stuff was ridiculously cheap and the dogs loved it too.
“So, I guess from the package on the counter, you guys want some soup. It is a good thing I can buy this stuff by the caseload. I might need a caseload to satisfy you both. Do your gold symbiot things eat?” she asked, bending over to grab a pot out of the bottom cabinet. “Wow, you’ve even done the pots and pans. Who knows, Barrack, you might give Bubba Joe a run for his money, after all!”
Straightening, she turned with a pot for the soup in one hand and a frying pan in the other. She could make a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches to go with the soup. A startled squeak slipped out when she discovered that both men were standing right behind her.
The fact that they had silently closed the distance was alarming enough, but it was the physical differences in their appearances that really shook her. Their eyes were glowing with tiny flames, and if that wasn’t freaky enough, it also looked like they had scales rolling up their necks and across their cheeks.
“Holy Moly! You’ve got…. Both of you have…. You guys are like giant lizards!” she gasped. Swallowing, she gripped the frying pan tighter in her right hand, wielding it like a weapon. “Get… get back. I don’t…..”
“We are not lizards. The Tiliqua are a lizard species,” Brogan stated, his eyes glittering with the golden fire.
Barrack nodded. “We are dragons. There is a huge difference,” he added, twin flames burning in his eyes as well.
Delilah placed the pot onto the counter and pulled off the lid. Lizards, dragons, whatever – she didn’t give a rat’s ass what they were. They were aliens with scales. Every horror book she had ever read flashed through her mind. The scales running along their skin were light green with specks of white and were actually beautiful.