Braxx

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Braxx Page 6

by Cara Bristol


  “You could be right. We need to get you up to speed fast.” I snapped my fingers. “I’ve got it—women love hearing about past relationships.”

  “They don’t find that rude?”

  “They appreciate the honesty. The more information you can provide, the better. You should mention all the women you’ve had sex with. Your date will want details.” I peeled a wrapper off a salted caramel cupcake. Calories didn’t count when you couldn’t have the guy you wanted, and you were on the fast track to hell.

  I bit into the cupcake. It was so good—and I was so bad.

  The corners of his mouth drooped. “I don’t have any details. I haven’t mated, so I haven’t had relations with a female yet.”

  I choked on the cupcake. “Not with anybody?”

  “No, I assumed relations would occur with my mate. That is why I came to Earth.”

  “To get laid?”

  “To obtain a female. There are so few on Dakon, most men never have a chance to engage in relations.”

  I’d been aware Dakon suffered from an extreme population imbalance, which had caused many men to emigrate, but I’d never considered the, uh, intimate, ramifications. The woman he hooked up with would be his first, and since Dakonians paired up for life, his one and only. In this day and age, his virginity could have been weird—except it was so sweet, my heart clenched. Would other women be as touched by it as I was?

  Probably. Those bitches.

  “You have to fabricate a past,” I said. “Invent some lovers. Hype it up. Let’s see, you had sex with Chantel the French girl, Ingrid the Swede, Sophia from Spain, maybe a non-Earthling or two. Ooh! That’s better—”

  “I hate to lie,” he said.

  “It’s not a lie, exactly.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “Well, a little lie.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You said I should be honest. That isn’t honest.” He raked his hands through his hair. His swollen horns pulsed. “This is not going the way I had expected.” He looked straight at me. “Your advice contradicts what the IDA taught us in our assimilation classes.”

  “The IDA has to play it by the book. They can’t tell you the whole truth, the way it really is. Do you want to impress this woman or not?” My conscience was kicking the crap out of me, but still I couldn’t stop.

  “I do want to impress her. More than anything. I had hoped today—tonight—would be the start of something.”

  “Well, then?”

  Uncertainty rippled across his handsome face. He rubbed his jaw and then pressed his lips into a decisive line. “You would know better than anyone how to win someone’s affections. I’ll follow your advice and pretend to have had relations with many females. I’ll be sure to tell her about them.” He pushed back from the table. “Excuse me. I must get ready for my IDA date. I have a feeling she’s going to be my forever mate. She will be beautiful and voluptuous.” With his hands, he pantomimed an hourglass figure. “She will be the one with whom I’ll have sexual relations and produce kits. We’ll mesh mouths and caress each other—”

  “Okay, okay, I get it. Stop. That’s enough.” He’d sure changed his tune. Once he’d claimed I was his forever mate. I hadn’t realized he was so fickle. He hadn’t met his date yet, and already he envisioned having sex with her? “I’ll drive you back,” I said, my tone clipped and short.

  “No need. You’ve been very helpful. I don’t wish to take up any more of your time. I’ll catch an Uber.” He strode to the door, marching toward disaster. He’d be lucky if his date didn’t slap his face. What if she was his forever mate? What if because of me he botched this, never met anyone else, and never had those kits he desired so much? What if I’d cost him a lifetime of happiness?

  A particularly toasty room in hell was being prepped for me right now. Rejecting him had begun with the noblest intentions. He’d believed he desired me, but I couldn’t give him what he needed. Then, in a fit of jealousy, I erased all the good from my deed and sabotaged his chance at love. Instead of a win-win, I’d engineered a lose-lose. Neither of us would be satisfied. No one would be happy.

  The bell over the door tinkled as he opened it.

  “Wait!” I stood up. “Don’t go yet.”

  He half turned. His horns twitched.

  “I lied,” I said. “Everything I told you is a load of crap.”

  Chapter Ten

  Braxx

  I swiped a hand over my mouth to hide a grin. I had much to learn about Earth ways, but I’d figured out what she was telling me was wrong, and following her “advice” would achieve the opposite effect of what she claimed. I couldn’t get angry at her for lying—because I had lured her here under the pretense of being her friend and needing her assistance. I’d intended to call her bluff, give her a taste of her own medicine by pretending to go on a date and then regaling her with false details.

  We were both guilty of the same transgression—lying to each other, pretending not to care.

  “I’m sorry.” She twisted her hands. “Don’t do any of the things I told you. Women would hate you.”

  I let the door close and returned to the table. She dropped into her chair, and I straddled mine. “Why would you try to ruin my date?” Please tell me the truth. Tell me you care.

  She lifted a shoulder. “Because I’m a terrible person. Listen, go on your date. Be yourself. That’s all you need to do. She’ll love you. Tell her about Anthony, Friend 2 Family, your job at the school.”

  “I don’t think you’re a terrible person.” My horns throbbed. She was my mate. The only female who could satisfy me. The only one I would ever desire.

  “I am a terrible person. I lied to you. I wasn’t willing to date you, but I didn’t want anyone else to, either.”

  The air sizzled with electricity as I teetered on the edge of a breakthrough. “Why didn’t you want someone else to date me?”

  “Look—I got jealous, okay? I had no right, but there it is.” She grabbed a cupcake, unwrapped it, and took a large bite.

  “I lied to you, too,” I admitted. “I don’t want to be your friend. I wish to be your ma—date,” I amended. Permanence seemed to be the sticking point with her. Mating lasted forever; dating was a short-term prospect. If I could get her to agree to the short-term, I could work on the long-term.

  “I’m not good for you,” she said. “I can’t provide you with what you want.”

  I wanted a lot of things, but all I needed was her. “What do you think I want?”

  “Children.”

  I arched my eyebrows. “What if I said all I wanted is you?”

  “I wouldn’t believe you. I’ve seen you with Anthony. If anyone was meant to be a father, you are. I can’t give you children. It’s not a possibility. Not ever.” The yearning in her eyes contradicted her vehement tone.

  She very much desired kits, and suddenly I understood; she was afraid. A male could be there in support, but a female had to give birth all by herself. Nervousness was to be expected. However, birthing was natural, and when the time came, she’d do fine. Better than fine. She would make an exceptional mother. We shouldn’t worry about matters that hadn’t happened yet, that wouldn’t occur if we couldn’t get past these first steps—dating, confirmation of our mating, and establishing a home together. Later, when the time was right—kits.

  “I come from a planet where the birth of a kit is rare even among mated pairs. Having kits is not something my people automatically expect,” I reassured her.

  “So you would be content without children?” Her brows knit together as she tilted her head.

  “If you were with me—yes.” We would deal with her fears together.

  “You say that now…”

  “I would say that always.”

  She bowed her head and studied her clasped hands. I reached across the table and tipped up her chin. “I can tell you don’t believe me. Give me a chance to prove I mean what I say. Go
out with me.”

  “As-as friends.”

  “No.” We needed to end the pretense. If platonic friendship was the only choice open to me, I would return to Dakon. “As my”—I searched for an appropriate Earth word—“girl. I want to care for you, hold your hand, mesh mouths, and engage in relations.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why do you even like me?”

  Because she was my mate, the fulfillment of my spirit. The instant I spotted her, the scattered pieces of my being had come together. She was my hope, my future, my reason for existence, but sharing this truth would frighten her. She wasn’t prepared to hear it yet. Instead, I countered. “Why do you like me?”

  “What makes you think I like you?”

  Because she had stayed. She’d helped me with Clemmy. She’d cared enough to try to ruin my date with another female. She hadn’t voiced her feelings, but actions spoke louder than words. Besides, the Fates had chosen her for me, and the Fates never erred. I held my silence and reached for an Apple Strudel cupcake and downed it in two bites. Wrappers piled on the table.

  Holly cleared her throat. “Because.”

  Her nonanswer offered no explanation, just a satisfying admission—she did like me. Obah! I hid a grin by washing down the cupcake with a gulp of cold coffee.

  “You’re good, kind, and…honest, handsome…and hot… and caring, and, I don’t know, I just do. I didn’t want to, but I do.” She averted her gaze, and I was kind of glad because I could feel the heat of embarrassment sweeping over my face. Not all of her accolades were deserved. Until recently, I would have laid claim to honesty, but I’d initiated the falsehoods by using Clemmy to get close to her, pretending I sought friendship, and attempting to stir her jealousy by pretending I had a date.

  I couldn’t feel guilty about all I’d done because the end had justified the means. A year of honesty had gotten me nothing. A few lies had moved mountains.

  However, deceit was a poor way to start a relationship. I promise to be honest from this point forward.

  As honest as I could be anyway.

  My horns felt swollen and heavy on my head. They throbbed with anticipation, but my gut tightened. I was as nervous about our future as she was about having kits. I reached across the table and covered her hand with mine. Such a storm of conflicted emotion swirled in her gaze, I almost lost my nerve. She’d admitted to liking me, but her ambivalence couldn’t be more obvious. I didn’t know what else to do or say to convince her of the rightness of our mating. If I couldn’t have her, no one else would suit. I would return to Dakon alone and unmated.

  “What do you say?” I held my breath. “Will you give me a chance? Will you go out with me?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Holly

  Braxx emerged from the surf like a bronzed sea god. Water slicked back his near-black hair, making his horns seem more prominent. His wet skin gleamed under the summer sun. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I gawked along with every woman on the beach and a few men, too.

  Suck it, bitches, he’s mine.

  Swim trunks rode low on his hips, offering a mostly unobstructed view of his lean, hard body, the musculature defined, but lacking the excessive bulkiness of some bodybuilders and the unsightly bulging veins. He was…perfect.

  I still couldn’t believe we’d been dating for a month now.

  He seemed oblivious to the attention he drew, his gaze on me as he strode toward our giant pink beach umbrella. He plopped down on the blanket covering the sand.

  “Whew,” he said. “I feel much cooler now. I’m not used to your planet’s excessive heat.”

  Will Rogers State Beach was cooler than inland, maybe in the low eighties Fahrenheit, but the temperature was perfect for sunbathing—for a human. Braxx had required frequent dips in the ocean to keep cool.

  I handed him a striped beach towel. He patted himself dry. I grabbed my water bottle and took a gulp. “I assumed all the lakes and rivers on Dakon would be frigid or frozen,” I commented.

  “They are.”

  “Then how did you learn to swim?” He’d streaked parallel to the shoreline in an efficient freestyle.

  “Friend 2 Family offered lessons to kits, and I observed. I’ve been practicing at the pool at my hut.”

  On Dakon he’d lived in a cave he’d shared with his parents and Kord. Here in New Los Angeles, his “hut” equated to an upscale apartment tricked out with high-end appliances and accents as well as the latest electronic gadgetry. Spacious balconied units overlooking the communal courtyard with a massive swimming pool leased for the low, low monthly rent of only triple what the average Angeleno earned in two months.

  He tossed the towel aside, and I picked up the tube of sunscreen. “We’d better put some more of this on you,” I said.

  “So I don’t burn?”

  “Yes.”

  He glanced up at the umbrella shading us then at sunbathers wearing little more than floss. “They don’t seem to be worried about burning.”

  “They’re trying to be old and wrinkled by age forty, and they plan to buy their dermatologist a new Mercedes after he treats their skin cancer lesions.” I waggled my eyebrows. “Maybe it’s an excuse to get my hands on your body?”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” He grinned and stretched out facedown on the blanket.

  I uncapped the tube and squirted out some lotion. I could have slapped it on him, but I was conscientious. I took the time to do it right, to cover every inch of his hard, smooth body. With long, slow strokes, I spread the cream over his shoulders, his arms, and his back. Cool from the water, his skin warmed under my touch as I glided my hands over taut muscle. I kneaded his shoulders and neck.

  He groaned. “That feels good.”

  “Uh-huh.” I felt flushed and hot. The more time I spent in his company, the more he turned me on. He only needed to look at me to get me wet. I loved kissing this man. I’d use any excuse to touch him, not that I needed one. We’d gotten physically close and had engaged in some heavy petting, although we’d stopped short of doing the deed. Or rather, I’d applied the brakes.

  Falling hard and fast scared me. I couldn’t believe my good luck in finding such a hot, handsome, affectionate, kind, loving guy. But bad luck haunted me, too—the kid situation. Braxx had desired kids forever then he met me, and presto, he’s okay with not having them? If we consummated our relationship, I’d fall deeper in love, and I’d never recover if he dumped me for a baby-maker. Maybe he could live without kids for now, but what about later? He said he loved me, but sometimes love wasn’t enough. Love couldn’t fix all ailments. I had believed Addison had cared for me.

  I was a waitress lacking a pedigree, an important job, and a fancy college education—any college degree. He’d defied his family’s wishes by dating me, which I’d naively viewed as proof of his love. He must have been slumming it the day he’d bought a barbecued beef sandwich off Barb’s food truck. He’d flirted with me, and I never expected it to go beyond that. But it had, and despite his family’s disapproval, he’d proposed. Fairy tales could come true.

  Then came the prenuptial medical test and his desertion.

  In my head, I knew I couldn’t judge all men by his actions, and certainly not Braxx who’d shown himself to be ten times the better man than Addison. My fears kept one foot on the brake while the other pressed on the gas, which wasn’t fair to him. I had to trust him or cut him loose. If you couldn’t trust the one you loved, then you loved the wrong person.

  I squirted out more lotion and applied it to his legs. His long, muscular legs. His thighs and calves weren’t hairy like some Earth men, so his muscle definition stood out. “Now the front,” I said, when the lotion was absorbed.

  He rolled over, and my gaze riveted on the tent in his swim trunks. I forced my eyes upward. Desire simmered in his hot gaze as he swept it over my body, lingering on my breasts and lower. I flushed from head to toe, and my stomach clenched with need. My whole bod
y ached for his touch. Why torture us like this? Abstinence was vastly overrated.

  Take the leap of faith. Trust him.

  I recapped the lotion and tossed it in my beach bag.

  “You’re not going to do my front?” he asked.

  “We should leave.”

  “Leave? Why?”

  I wet my lips. “We could go back to your apartment or mine or some place and…and”—every word I came up with was either clinical or crude—“you know.”

  His eyes widened. “Engage in relations?”

  “If you want to,” I replied stupidly. If his massive hard-on served as an indication, he wanted to.

  “Obah!” He sprang to a sitting position, grabbed me, and laid a lip-lock on me. Our mouths fused in a passionate French kiss mimicking the coming attractions. He pulled me atop his lap and wrapped his arms around me. He stroked my back, and I clung to his neck and kissed him. I wiggled, rubbing my bottom over his impressive hard-on. I couldn’t wait to get him totally naked. Reservations disintegrated, leaving lust, hunger, and need.

  “Hey! Get a room!” somebody shouted.

  We broke apart.

  “Thank you for the suggestion!” he shouted back. “We’ll do that.”

  I giggled. “Let’s go.” I rolled off his lap and shoved things into my beach bag.

  We shook off the blanket and folded it. Braxx lowered the umbrella to pull it out of the sand when he froze. He uttered a Dakonian word that sounded like a curse.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He sighed. “Anthony.”

  Oh crap, the kid. I’d forgotten all about him. We’d intended to bring him to the beach with us, but Anthony’s social worker had upset our plans by choosing this morning for an unplanned foster home visit, so we’d promised to collect him in the afternoon and take him out for ice cream.

  He often accompanied us on outings. I’d gotten to like the kid and enjoyed spending time with him now that he no longer triggered my heartache, but…darn it! I couldn’t catch a break. Freedom should have been the one positive to infertility, but kids were interfering with my sex life. It was a sex life I’d delayed indulging in, but now that I’d decided to move forward, I was ready to charge full steam ahead!

 

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