by Cara Bristol
“Of all the people I’m traveling with, I trust Psy the most.” Like many others, he’d been wary of Psy, but once he’d gotten to know the Verital, he’d come to trust him implicitly. Psy’s conscience was rock solid.
The Veritals demonstrated to the Xenos that no matter how much control you exerted, shit still happened. Veritals had been created specifically to rat out their fellow ’Topians. But something in the Verital’s genetic programming had gone awry, and they’d developed a strong sense of right and wrong. They used their power sparingly, thwarting the Xeno’s intentions.
“Anybody you don’t trust?”
“I wouldn’t say I distrust Wingman, but he and I don’t get along.” Wingman didn’t trust him. He couldn’t fault him; as a general rule, you couldn’t trust a Xeno, and had the situation been reversed, Chameleon would have been guarded, too.
Bowing her head, Kevanne smoothed out the skirt of her dress then folded it into pleats. “How long are you staying on Earth?”
“Until our ship is fixed. It sustained severe damage in the jump then more damage on entry into Earth’s atmosphere. How long we stay depends on how long it takes to fabricate the parts we need.”
“You said you had an investor?”
“Yes. Edwin Mysk is interested in space exploration and is sponsoring us.”
“Edwin Mysk? The tech magnate?”
“You’ve heard of him?”
“He’s famous. He’s like the richest man in the world. And the most technologically savvy. If anyone can fix your ship, he can.”
“We’re in good hands, then.”
“The best.” She looked at him. “Would you like more ice cream?”
Earth food got better and better all the time. “Yes, please.”
She went to get the ice cream, and he remained in the living room enjoying the fire, analyzing it. Like most things in the galaxy, fire was good and bad, light and dark, like the Xenos. Creators but also destroyers. Just as fire could be. For primitive man, fire represented life, providing heat and protection from the elements and from predators. But fire also destroyed.
“What are you thinking about?” Kevanne handed him his bowl. “This is the last of the ice cream. But I’ll buy more on my next shopping trip.” He liked how that sounded, like he was being invited back. He relished spending more time with her.
“To answer your question, I was daydreaming about fire.” He scooped a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.
“What about it?” She kicked her shoes off under the table and then sat on the sofa. A little closer to him this time, he noticed.
“That it is beneficial but also destructive.”
“Where there is light, there is shadow,” she said. “Life is full of such contradictions. People, too, have a dark side.”
“Yes, they do,” he agreed.
“Even me.”
“Except you.” She was warmth, light, home, and intelligence in one lovely package.
“Oh, trust me, I have plenty of flaws.”
“That doesn’t make you dark, just human.”
She cocked her head. “So what about you? Do you have a dark side?”
“Yes.” She would despise him if she knew what his negligence had caused. “I am guilty of not doing enough to stop a travesty and doing it too late.” He clenched and unclenched his fist. “Of making an egregious error in judgment.”
“But you tried.”
“I thought I was doing the right thing, but I failed.”
“We tend to judge ourselves more harshly than others judge us. I see goodness and kindness in you. If you tried, you did your best, and that’s all you can do.”
“My best wasn’t good enough.”
“It’s good enough for me.” She leaned over and kissed him. He parted his lips, seeking more of what he had no right to take. She tasted like vanilla and chocolate and homey warmth. If she knew what his screwup had caused, she wouldn’t desire him. Herian, he should confess, tell her the darkest of his secrets, so she would push him away.
Protecting her demanded silence, and the selfish part of him would take advantage of that, stealing every moment he could. He wanted her. Her sweetness, her laughter, her. He wanted to strip away her clothing, revel in the sensation of skin to skin, sink into her, and lose himself in bliss. Bring her to ecstasy. Sexual satisfaction was one thing he could give her.
He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, tasting, savoring, exploring. Still clutching their bowls, they fondled each other with their free hands. He stroked her hair; she cupped the side of his face. He nuzzled her throat. She nibbled on his lips.
“We don’t need to hold these.” She chuckled and set their bowls on the low table then wrapped her arms around his neck. “Isn’t this better?”
“Much.” He pulled her onto his lap and claimed her mouth again. Her soft moan sent a hard zing through his entire body. His cock strained against his clothing. She would know how much he wanted her.
He threaded his fingers through the silken strands of her hair then caressed her throat before moving his hands over her shoulders, down her arms to the front to cup her breasts. Through her clothes, he could feel her nipples, two hard beads against his palms.
She kissed him, her mouth open, her tongue seeking and lashing. She curled one hand into his hair while massaging his chest, marveling at his muscles. “I want you, Cam,” she whispered. “We haven’t known each other long, but I know my own mind.”
Pleasure and pain arced through him. “I can’t stay.”
“Oh.” Her hand fell away from his neck, and the fiery light behind her eyes shuttered. “Of course. You have to get back to your ship.”
“No! I meant I can’t offer you a future. I’m here on Earth for a short period of time, but while I’m here, I would like to spend every second with you.”
Her smile lit up the room. “Well, okay, then.” She wiggled off his lap, stood up, and held out her hand. “The clock is ticking, so let’s get started.”
Chapter Thirteen
Kevanne refused to lose another precious second of happiness. She’d had a hunch her heart would be broken when Cam left Earth, but until that happened, she would live. As her therapist had told her often enough, she deserved happiness. Carpe noctem. Seize the night!
Her loveless, violent marriage had nearly killed her soul. Since Dayton, she’d felt dead, closed off to the possibility of romance, sex, love. She had doubted she could let down her guard enough to become intimate emotionally or physically, but Chameleon had changed her. Love wasn’t a possibility because he had to leave, but she could have the sex part and a little romance, too. He had a tender, sweet side—and a smokin’ bod. Plus, he was a great kisser.
The fact he’d been honest about leaving had earned her trust, and his impending departure made him a good practice boyfriend. She wouldn’t have to worry about him moving too fast or pushing her beyond her comfort zone. After not dating for more than a decade, rusty didn’t describe how she felt at the prospect of plunging into the dating pool. Chameleon would allow her to wade in. Nothing about him even remotely reminded her of Dayton. Him being an alien eliminated worries she’d say or do the wrong thing because he had no idea what dating on Earth was like. No judgment. No strings. No commitments, just an alien with benefits.
His large, warm hand gripped hers as she led him to her bedroom. “Lights on or off?” she asked.
“On. I’d like to see you.” He squeezed her hand and then released it so she could turn on the lamp.
The covers were in a jumble. If she’d guessed she’d be entertaining a male visitor, she would have made the bed, but it was going to get messed up anyway.
Cam stood there, his eyes heated with desire, his pants tented by his erection. And what an impressive one. On the sofa when she’d sat on his lap, the long, thick hard length of him had pressed against her bottom.
He stepped close to her and tipped her chin up then ducked his head and slanted his mouth over hers.
She went up in flames. This man could kiss! Perfect pressure, not too wet, not too dry. She clung to his biceps as he lifted her off the floor.
When her feet touched the floor again, her heart felt a jolt.
He pulled his shirt over his head. In the glow of the single lamp, his bright-blue skin darkened to midnight. Shadows outlined ripples of muscles in his chest and abdomen. She couldn’t resist dragging a finger across his nippleless chest. He sucked in a breath.
She bit her lower lip and smiled then stepped back, unbuttoned her poet-style blouse, and let it drop to the floor then peeled off her skirt, standing there in her matching bra and panties. Fire flashed in his eyes. Changing her underwear had been a good call.
She hadn’t planned on this happening, hadn’t given it serious thought, but a fantasy? She’d entertained a few. Upon getting home from the spring fling, she’d swapped out her boring plain white bra and blue flowered cotton panties for a matching set of black satin and lace.
He pulled her to him for another kiss that left her weak-kneed, and then he nibbled and kissed his way to her throat and then lower to skim the tops of her breasts. His scratchy chin and jaw sent tingles rushing through her. The brush of his fangs against her skin caused her pussy to contract. His otherness, his alienness was such a turn-on.
No, him. His smell. His looks. His grin. His kiss.
Hell, he was just hot. Except he wore way too many clothes.
She unzipped his pants, and his cock sprang out. She stifled a chuckle, having forgotten he didn’t wear underwear. She shoved his pants to his knees and stroked the prize. Underwear was overrated.
She marveled at his balance as he toed off his boots and kicked off his wadded pants without teetering, and then they kissed their way to the bed and tumbled upon the mattress.
He pulled the straps of her bra down to her elbows and fumbled with the hook. “How do you get this thing off?”
She giggled. “Bras have been befuddling men for generations.” She reached behind and undid it. Her breasts spilled into his waiting hands. He kneaded and stroked, strumming the nipples, then ducked his head and sucked a bud into his mouth.
Sweet sensation hummed.
As he sucked, he tugged her panties down her legs, and then he touched her pussy, tentative at first, then with a firmer, more confident caress that had her rocking against his hand. He slipped a finger then a second, into her wet channel and her greedy muscles clutched tight. His thumb teased her engorged clit sending jolts of need arcing through her.
She caressed his back with long, loving strokes. His skin looked scaled, but the texture was smooth as glass, contrasting with the bumpy length of his spine. She trailed her fingers up and down, and he shuddered. So he was sensitive there… She did it again, and received another growled exhortation.
His long, thick cock was also ridged with a striation resembling a zipper spanning the topside. She explored the thick line, discovering it was extra sensitive. He groaned as she stroked. A pearl of dark precum beaded at the tip of the crown. She swirled her thumb over it, wondering what he tasted like. Different from a human?
She’d started to slip down to find out when she realized he was stroking her thigh. Clarity pierced through the sexual daze as she counted hands. He had one on her pussy and another on her breast, so that left—
A third?
Her head came off the pillow.
His tail had curled around to caress her thigh. She stifled a snort, amused and relieved he hadn’t grown appendages she hadn’t known about. Reaching out, she stroked the length of his tail. Playing with a man’s tail counted as a first. Cam lifted his head. His gaze met hers, and then he curled his tail around her hand.
“Does it feel good when I stroke like this?” she asked.
“Every way you touch me feels good,” he said.
They kissed long and deep. Their touches grew feverish and fast. Moans became low and throaty. Tension and heat rose. Sweat dampened skin.
She rolled toward the nightstand and rummaged for a box of condoms. I hope these things don’t have an expiration date. She didn’t know if she could get pregnant by an alien or catch an STD, but better safe than sorry. Having sworn off men until this evening, she hadn’t needed birth control. She tore a packet open and reached for his cock.
“What’s that?”
“A condom.”
He eyed it dubiously as she rolled it onto his erection. They shifted position, an awkward tangle of arms, legs, and tail. She giggled, and he chuckled, and then they slipped into sync. He moved on top of her and between her thighs, fitting like he belonged there. Rubbing the crown of his cock in her wetness, he guided himself to her entrance and pushed inside. Delicious fullness and satisfying pressure filled her when he seated himself.
He began to thrust then, and she discovered the glory of a ridged hard-on. Every stroke teased her clit. Every withdrawal teased again. Her core burned with delicious fire. His breath flowed warm against her ear, his growled exhortations even hotter. She dragged her fingers along his dorsal ridge and smoothed her palms over his back, slick with perspiration.
Heat and tension wound, wound, wound, and then snapped with a ping that sent her spiraling into ecstasy, engulfed by waves of pleasure. He thrust faster and harder, growling as he orgasmed, the contractions of his cock driving her rapture to a new high.
After-quakes shuddered through her as she lay beneath him, his face buried against her neck, his heart thumping. His exotic scent teasing her senses, and she inhaled, drawing his musk into her lungs. He smells better than lavender.
With a groan, he started to disengage. “Hold on!” She reached between their bodies to grab the condom around the base of his still-tumescent cock while he withdrew. He flopped onto his back and pulled her into the crook of his arm. He brushed the damp hair from her face and pressed a kiss to her temple. She snuggled next to him, more contented than she could ever remember. The sex had been awesome, but they’d shared a connection beyond the physical. There’d been first-time awkwardness, but even that had been warm, affectionate. Pleasure had been a mutual give-and-take. She pressed a kiss to his arm, still damp with perspiration. She never wanted to move; she could stay like this forever.
He’d made her feel desirable and respected—something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“You might be my fantasy man,” she said. “Are you sure you’re real?” Just as she’d been wishing for a handyman, he’d fallen out of the sky like a shooting star. I got my wish.
Silver eyes darkened. “I never dared to even dream about somebody like you.”
“I’m ordinary.”
“Extraordinary.” He stroked her cheek. “You inspire me to believe all things are possible because if I can meet you, then anything can happen. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. You’re smart, beautiful, gentle and kind and amazing.”
His compliments warmed her from the inside out but also aroused discomfort. She didn’t accept praise easily; however, the sincerity in Cam’s gaze convinced her he meant every word.
“Even though I screamed when I saw you and forced you out into the cold with no clothes on?” she joked, but her behavior still horrified her.
“Even though you shot me with pepper spray.”
Pepper spray? She’d never shot him with pepper spray—only the… “You were the bear?!” She sprang up. “In the woods?”
He nodded.
“I was afraid you were going to eat me!” She pressed a hand to her naked chest.
“I never would have hurt you. You were getting too close to the spaceship. The crew sent me out to chase you away.”
“This huge fireball came streaming across the sky. I worried it might start a forest fire.” She shook her head and chuckled. “You were the bear.”
“Why is that funny?”
“Because you had blue feet! I thought I had imagined it.”
“It’s easier to mimic a life-form similar to what I am,” he explained. “Personifying the
bear took a lot of concentration.”
“You had me fooled.”
“I’m sorry I scared you. We didn’t know what reception we’d get from the local populace, so we were being cautious. The Intergalactic Dating Agency has brought more aliens to Earth than people realize, but they tend to live in urban areas.”
She nodded. “Big cities tend to be more diverse, making it easier to blend. And if you do stand out, nobody cares.” She pressed her thumb and forefinger together and zipped them across her mouth. “I won’t tell anybody about you and your friends.”
“Thank you. You never considered joining the IDA?”
“I’ve seen their Internet ads—but…no. Until meeting you, I’d sworn off men.”
“Because of your husband.”
“Yes.”
“He was never worthy of you.”
“No, he wasn’t!” she agreed vehemently. However, her late husband had left her with a fortuitous parting gift—a box of rubbers hidden in his glove box. She’d discovered them while sorting through his possessions after his death. In addition to his marital crimes and misdemeanors, Dayton had been unfaithful. She should have thrown the condoms away. Instead, she’d shoved them into a drawer. Using them felt like karmic justice.
Speaking of which…they should probably discard the used condom. She squinted. “Is your semen blue?”
Cam glanced at himself. “What other color would it be?”
She handed him a couple of tissues from the box on the bedside table. “You can take that off now.”
He pulled off the condom, and she could see his semen was bright blue. “If you were personifying a human man and had sex, what color would your semen be?”
“Still blue, but I’ve never had sex while in a personification. I don’t think I could. I wouldn’t be able to maintain the concentration required to hold the form. At the critical juncture, I’d lose it.”
She could imagine the reaction if he’d been having sex with someone who believed him to be human, and then at the height of orgasm, he transformed into a bright-blue alien with a tail. Smothering a laugh, she slid off the bed. “How about we shower together?” Hopefully her cranky hot water heater would be in a good mood.