Healing the Alien’s Heart

by Anna Lewis

  The only thing he didn’t talk about, it seemed, was the strange relationship between himself and Russ.

  The sun was low in the sky when Killian sat up abruptly and wiped his thick forearm across his sweaty brow. “All right,” he sighed, standing up and brushing the dirt from his hands across the front of his jeans. “I guess I should be getting home, Lara.”

  “Wait,” she said, rising up to meet him. “Thank you, Killian.”

  “It was no problem, just a little gardening…”

  Lara shook her head. “I don’t just mean that. I mean, thank you for just being here. I’ve had a hard week and it really helped having you around today.”

  Killian smiled, a soft grin that spread over his handsome face. “I’m glad I could help,” he told her, wrapping Lara’s small frame up in his massive arms.

  The warmth of his embrace felt amazing and safe. Lara trembled and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her.

  She desperately hoped she hadn’t been misreading him, because every sign he dropped (well, every sign that wasn’t around Russ) seemed to point to flirtation.

  Pressing her body flush against him, Lara pushed herself up on her tiptoes toward his mouth. She loved the feeling of his warmth against her, the firmness of his toned chest against the soft fullness of her breasts.

  Her instincts had been right. Killian dropped his head toward her, cupped her jaw softly in one strong hand and pulled her toward him, drawing her into a soft kiss.

  Killian’s lips were softer than Lara imagined. There was a bit of dry scrape as she relaxed into the kiss, but that melted away as his mouth welcomed hers, pressing hungrily against hers. His arms tightened around Lara and she melted against him, forgetting where she ended and Killian began.

  His hands roamed her back—stroking, caressing, and searching—and came to rest on the full crease of her butt. With one swift lift, Lara was lifted off the ground as Killian drew her up to him, holding her up in his arms as he explored her wanting mouth.

  “Killian,” she whispered softly, in one of the brief moments when he allowed her mouth freedom. “Killian!” More urgent this time.

  He didn’t reply, but kissed down her neck, dropping a trail of soft kisses down her delicate skin, and paused at her collarbone, sucking hard at that juncture of bone and flesh.

  Electricity flashed through Lara. She’d never felt like this, never been held like this, never been wanted like this. Lara threw her head back, blond hair spilling wildly, and moaned his name—Killian!—urging him on.

  There was the slightest scrape of teeth on the soft skin of her neck, just a whisper of a nip. Lara felt heat gathering low in her belly and she clawed her nails down Killian’s arms, urging him on.

  It took her a moment before she realized that he’d gone still. Lara opened her eyes and Killian was gazing down at her, eyes wide with fear.

  “Did I just bite you, Lara?” he whispered.

  “A little,” she replied. “But only a little. Besides biting is definitely on my ‘yes list.’” Lara smiled up at him, hoping her expression was seductive rather than creepy. Killian just stared at her, then hastily set her down. His hands flew to her throat, frantically searching the skin there.

  After a moment, he seemed satisfied. “Thank god,” he said. “I didn’t break the skin. Thank god.”

  “Killian, what are you talking about?” Lara was beyond confused. A moment ago, she and Killian had been well on their way to bed and now he was behaving like an emergency room doctor.

  “Sorry, I was just… sorry,” Killian replied.

  Lara took another try at seduction. “It’s getting late,” she said. “Maybe it would be better if you just stayed over?”

  Her casual attempt to get Killian in bed epically failed, however, as his brown eyes flew to the window and his expression grew panicked.

  “Oh god, oh my god,” Killian cursed, grabbing his things and digging through his pants for the keys to the Jeep. “I’m so sorry, Lara, but I need to go.”

  “Killian—“

  “No!” he snapped, looking frantic. “I really need to go now.”

  Killian dashed to the door and began to let himself out.

  “Lara?” he said, turning back to her right before he disappeared out the door. “Stay inside tonight, okay?”

  She nodded mutely, still too hurt and surprised to form words.

  Then Killian was gone, the door behind him closing with a solid click.

  Lara dragged herself to bed, too sad and embarrassed to bother with properly washing up. As she pulled the covers over her head and drifted off to sleep, she thought she heard the faint cry of a wolf somewhere deep in the forest.

  * * *

  The next morning dawned gray and hazy, as if the world understood Lara’s foul mood and wanted to help her wallow in her sad state of self-pity. She threw on her trusty pair of sweatpants and tattered old hoodie and dragged herself out into the kitchen. By some stroke of luck, Killian had brought her some extra coffee beans the previous morning, before his freak out at sundown, so she was able to brew a small pot of coffee for herself.

  This morning was going to be terrible enough without a coffee shortage. If Lara was going to make it through the day, some heavy caffeinating was definitely in order.

  Much to her surprise, Killian was already sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs on the deck, his hulking form hunched over himself and his face buried in his hands.

  “Killian?”

  His head whipped up at the sound of her voice. Killian’s soft brown eyes were sad and he had dark purple smudges circled beneath them. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept all night.

  “I’m sorry to drop by unannounced,” he began, “but Russ thought I needed to talk to you sooner rather than later—”

  “Russ?” Lara was shocked. Yesterday, Killian had seemed ready to stand up to the town bully and now, here he was, backing down again. “Why does Russ get to decide what goes on between you and me, Killian?”

  “Stop, Lara,” Killian snapped. Lara had never heard him use this tone with her before. “You don’t understand, this is bigger than me, bigger than you, okay? Just—just leave it, okay?”

  “Leave it? No, Killian, I refuse to just ‘leave it,’” Lara said. “I like you, all right? I mean, if we were in middle school, I’d say I ‘like you like you,’ but we’re not in middle school. We are grown-ass adults and grown-ass adults can admit when they’re attracted to someone: I’m attracted to you, Killian.”

  He said nothing, just curled in on himself in the chair.

  “What we started last night,” Lara said. “I want more of that, okay? I want to get to know you, spend time with you, take you to bed. I want to—“

  “No, Lara!” Killian found his voice again. “We can’t, okay? We just… can’t.”

  “Killian, you can’t possibly be telling me that you don’t feel the same about me. I felt something between us yesterday. Hell, I feel something between us now and I—“

  “It doesn’t matter, Lara. It’s not about what you want or what I want. It’s about what Russ wants.”

  Lara nearly choked. “Russ?! Russ has absolutely no say in my life—”

  “But he has a say in mine,” Killian admitted. “It’s weird and I can’t explain why, all right? But just trust me on this one. Russ has decided that he wants you—”

  “—But what if I don’t want him—”

  “It doesn’t matter, Lara,” Killian said. “If you don’t want him, okay. That’s fine. You don’t have to have him. But the problem, Lara, is that he wants you. And as long as he feels that way, I can’t take what is his.”

  Everything about this seemed wrong.

  Lara tried to reason with him, but Killian just kept brushing her off until he couldn’t seem to stand it anymore.

  “I need to go,” he said, and set off running into the woods, letting the dense trees swallow him into nothingness.

  He didn’t have his Jeep with him,
Lara realized. He’d come all this way on foot.

  It occurred to Lara that she didn’t know how long “all this way,” was exactly. She had no idea where Killian lived. She had no idea where Russ lived.

  Well, she was about to find out.

  * * *

  Lara spent the majority of the day exploring Winter’s Lake, inquiring about the whereabouts of Killian or Russ, or even just their addresses or directions to their homes. The townspeople were polite in their lack of assistance, but Lara couldn’t help feeling that she was being intentionally misled.

  It wasn’t until the sun had dipped low in the sky that she finally found Russ, crouched over the bar in Dusty’s. The bar was surprisingly quiet, there was no sign of other patrons or even a bartender.

  Good, Lara thought, let’s keep this between Russ and me.

  She set her chin and strode purposefully toward Russ.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she snapped.

  He didn’t glance up at her, just took an extra long swig of his beer.

  “I said, ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing, Russell?” she repeated, letting a little more venom fill her usually soft voice.

  Finally, Russ turned toward her, his icy blue eyes tired.

  “What I do in my own town isn’t any business of yours, Lara,” he mumbled, taking another long drink.

  Lara fumed. “It is my business when it affects me and my friends.”

  “Oh, Killian’s your friend now, is he?” Russ’ voice was cruel, mocking. “You wouldn’t be so eager to be friends with him if you knew what I know, Lara.”

  She didn’t have an answer for that mysterious statement, so she just plunked herself on the barstool next to Russ and waited for him to divulge more information.

  He didn’t take her bait, though. Russ just stood up and went around the side of the bar to help himself to another bottle of beer from the cooler. “You want one?” he offered, as if he owned the place.

  “Shouldn’t you wait for a bartender?” Lara asked. In LA, going behind the bar to help oneself to a drink was an unthinkable idea. But it was slowly becoming very clear to Lara that life in a small town, life in Winter’s Lake, was very, very different from life in Los Angeles.

  “The wait staff went home for the night,” Russ answered, thunking a bottle of Budweiser in front of her, tearing the bottle cap off with one swift twist of his strong hand. “This town shuts down early, Lara, unlike LA.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her.

  Russ continued. “Most people around here turn in fairly early.” He gazed out the window at the dark sky. The moon hadn’t risen yet, but Lara knew that, when it did, it would be full and fat.

  “Well, I’m not most people,” she announced, stating the obvious. “And you and I need to have a little chat.”

  Russ didn’t return to his seat. Instead, he circled back behind her and set one thick hand on her slender shoulders. “Chat away,” he said. Lara shuddered at this touch. There was something undeniably electric about Russ, an underlying current of attraction that she wanted to push away, bury deep within her.

  “Whatever beef you have with Killian,” Lara said, shoving her attraction away with a show of bravado, “it needs to stop now.”

  She could feel his laugh travel down his hand, could feel his shaking in her shoulders.

  “Don’t laugh at me, Russell,” she said. “I’m serious.”

  “I’m serious, too, Lara,” he replied, spinning her stool around so she faced the broad expanse of his muscled chest. “Killian and I had a little talk last night and we came to the same conclusion: you’re mine.”

  She pushed him away, forced herself out of his space until the small of her back was pressed firmly against the old, chipped wooden bar. “You don’t get to make decisions for me, okay?”

  He cocked one thick black eyebrow and smirked down at her. “I’m not making any decisions for you, Lara. You’re your own person and I can’t control that. A fact, by the way, that you’ve made abundantly clear. I can, however, control Killian. He and I agreed that it would be best for all involved if he took himself out of the equation.”

  Lara was speechless. Killian had agreed to that? He’d agreed to just walk away from her?

  Russ continued. “We talked about it, we fought about it and, in the end, he lost. I won. If you choose anyone in this little town, it’s going to be me.”

  Lara opened her mouth to argue, to defend Killian, to defend herself, but found herself captivated by Russ’ icy blue eyes. There was something deep within their artic depths, something dangerous and intoxicating. Instead of speaking, she leaned forward and found that her hands were drawn to his thick biceps, stroking the flannel shirtsleeves that covered his firm flesh.

  What was she doing?

  Russ reached one hand down to her, lifting her chin up with one finger, pulling her gaze closer to his own.

  “I’m going to kiss you,” he informed her, his voice deep and commanding. “You can say no.”

  Lara said nothing, but found herself drawn into his personal space, suddenly overwhelmed by the earthy scent of him, so close to her now.

  Her mouth began to move. “Yes,” she heard herself saying.

  And that was all she had to say. Russ’ mouth was on hers, dominating her, exploring her. The press of his kiss was so eager, so wanton, that she moaned involuntarily against his mouth. Russ didn’t pull back, the way Killian would have done. Instead, he delved deeper, parting her soft, full lips with his eager tongue. Her own tongue lapped at his, inviting the exploration.

  Russ pulled her to him and she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking herself on to him.

  Lara had never felt such abandon, such recklessness. She knew she didn’t like him, but she found that she needed him.

  A hardness pressed between her legs, a sure sign of Russ’ own need and arousal. All thoughts of Killian vanished from Lara’s mind as she rocked her hips into Russ’ need, driving her soft mound against his erection. A flood of wet warmth soaked her panties. This was different, this was primal.

  With Killian, she felt soft attraction, a warm affection settling deep within her loins. With Russ, however, she was driven by instinct, a base, animalistic need to rip his clothes off, rut wildly on the bar, allow him to claim her.

  “Russ,” she moaned, the intensity in her voice shocking to her ear. “Russ!”

  He had his hands buried in her hair now, pulling her head back with his strong hands so his clever mouth could nip along the soft skin at her throat.

  His hands tightened around her waist and he pulled her up to the bar, pushing her skirt up around her hips and exposing her black silk panties, the wet patch in her crotch evidence of her desire and wanting.

  Lara knew she should tell him to stop, knew she should slow things down. She knew all these things, but she didn’t want any of them. She wanted Russ, wanted the solid maleness of him on top of her, claiming her.

  Russ slid down to his knees in front of her. He was so tall that his head was level with the bar top, level with her entrance, open and exposed through her spread thighs. He kissed her knee, then let the warm wetness of his mouth move up the soft skin of her inner thigh. His stubble scratched the skin there, burned her, and she only wanted more, more, more.

  Lara froze as Russ nuzzled the damp crotch of her black panties, then took them between his teeth and tore them off of her as if they were made of tissue.

  Those were expensive, she vaguely thought and then all conscious thought left her as Russ’ eager tongue lapped at her entrance. A new rush of warmth flooded her and Russ worked inside her with, tongue probing and exploring the inviting softness of her pussy.

  Lara settled back on her elbows, head back and mouth panting, as Russ worked one thick finger inside of her. His tongue abandoned her entrance, letting his finger do the work there, and instead it concentrated on her clit, sucking and licking and driving her toward madness.

  “Russ!”
Lara heard herself cry again. She was on fire, she was shaking, she needed something, needed release.

  Russ didn’t reply, just redoubling the pace of his tongue, lapping at her with such speed and force that Lara knew she wouldn’t last long. He added a finger, stretching her open with two of his strong digits now, and Lara barely had a moment to wonder what his cock would feel like inside of her before she started to shake with tremors of her climax.

  “Russ!” she screamed, his name falling from her lips in a litany of want. “Russ, Russ, Russ…” she moaned, and then she was gone, lost in a haze of pleasure and release.

  When she finally stopped shaking, Lara fell forward, teetering on the edge of the bar before Russ stopped her descent with his strong embrace.

  “Russ,” she murmured against the soft plaid of his shirt.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered, strangely caring and kind. “I’ve got you, Lara.”

  They stayed like this, holding each other on the edge of the bar for several long, tender moments. Suddenly, Lara’s brain snapped back into itself.

  “I need to go,” she practically yelped, pushing herself off the edge of the bar and staggering toward the door, her black panties forgotten on the floor of Dusty’s. “Thanks, Russ, that was… that was really amazing, but I need to—”

  Russ grabbed her before she could reach the door and vanish into the night. Through one window, the moonrise was visible over the dense trees of the forest.

  “You can’t go, Lara,” he said, blue eyes wide.

  She pulled her arm away, but he held firm. “What did we just say about you making choices for me, Russell?”

  “This isn’t for fun, Lara,” Russ said.

  “Then what—?”

  He threw her over his shoulder and headed into the back of the bar. “This isn’t about choice, Lara, this is about your safety.”