by Black, Tasha
“Aerie is nothing like this,” he told her. “We were amazed when we arrived. At home the stars are so close. There are no bodies of water, no trees or birds. Your planet is so… alive.”
“The stars are closer?” Margot echoed.
“Yes,” Kent agreed. “It was necessary for us. In our old forms we drew energy from starlight itself.”
She stared at him a moment, really taking in the fact that he hadn’t always been in the form he was now.
“Eating Earth food is much more interesting,” he told her. “Your cake looked very delicious today.”
“My grandfather taught me how to bake gingerbread,” Margot said.
“He was the father of your father?” Kent asked.
“No, he’s the father of my mother - my mother’s father,” Margot explained. “I used to live with him when my mom had to travel for work. We loved to cook together.”
“He sounds like a good man,” Kent said. “I would like to meet him. Maybe he can teach me to make gingerbread cake.”
“He doesn’t do as much cooking as he used to, he has a bad foot,” Margot said wistfully. “But I’ll bet we could do the cooking and he could tell us what to do.”
“His foot is bad?” Kent looked amazed and a little scandalized. “What does it do?”
“No, no,” Margot said. “It’s an expression that really means that his foot pains him - he has a medical condition that makes it hurt.”
“Oh,” Kent said, looking relieved. “I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Thanks,” Margot said. “I know it bothers him. He always used to like going for long walks in the mornings. But he still keeps busy. The whole family takes turns stopping by every day, and he has board game night every Wednesday.”
“Like Jumanji?” Kent asked, leaning forward in an interested way.
“I guess so,” Margot told him. “Plus lots of others. Have you ever played a board game?”
“No, they seem very dangerous,” Kent said with a frown. “Not a good idea for an old man with a bad foot.”
Margot shook her head, trying to understand where they’d gone wrong.
Then it hit her.
“You really learned about Earth culture by watching ‘80s movies?” she said.
“Yes,” he replied.
“So you’re talking about the movie Jumanji?” She asked. “The one where the things in the game started happening in real life.”
“Yes,” he replied. “It was a very exciting movie. But I would not want to play a board game myself.”
“I liked that movie too,” she smiled. “But in an actual board game it’s all pretend. The game doesn’t actually come to life.”
“No real monkeys?” he asked, sounding slightly disappointed.
“No real monkeys,” she said, smiling.
He smiled back and for a moment there was nothing but the joy of finding shared understanding.
And then the tension between them suddenly swelled.
Margot was all too aware of his big body, inches away from hers, the movement of his muscles under his shirt as he rowed.
“Okay, we got what we came for, let’s head in,” Olivia called out from the other boat.
They headed back in friendly silence. There was only the sound of the water lapping the sides of the boat.
When they reached the shore Kent hopped out and offered her his hand.
Margot took it and felt that wave of need wash over her again.
He didn’t let go of her hand and she followed him as he led her along the shoreline.
The stars glimmered in the water.
The crew was breaking down their equipment, shouting happily to each other down the beach.
Kent stopped walking and turned to face Margot.
She looked up at him.
He was so tall, his shoulders broad enough to block her view of the beach behind him - larger than life. The moonlight shimmered in his hair, highlighted the plane of his jaw.
“Margot,” he said gently, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine.
She squeezed his hand, momentarily speechless.
He leaned down, so slowly, as if he were giving her a chance to pull back.
She went up on her toes to meet him.
Kent cupped her cheek in his hand, so gently, as if she were some delicate flower.
His dark eyes met hers in the instant before he kissed her.
She swore she could see universes aligning in his soulful gaze.
Then he was kissing her until she was floating, until her insides melted, and she clutched his arms to anchor herself.
A sound from behind her distracted her at last.
She opened her eyes to see Kent’s face lit by a spotlight.
She was on a TV show.
They had fabricated the romantic setting, created an environment to encourage a connection.
And she had played right into their hands by kissing him.
She pulled out of his arms and ran up the hillside, furious with herself for falling for the starry night and the handsome alien bachelor.
It was all fake.
Why had it felt so real?
Why had she felt like she was drowning in him?
13
Kent
Kent slipped down the alleyway between the apartment where he stayed with his brothers and the old theater building.
It was after midnight. The busy little village was silent, its windows darkened.
But Kent hadn’t been able to sleep.
His mind was filled with Margot, their conversation in the boat, her luminous eyes studying him so intently as he bent to kiss her.
Holding her hand had nearly stopped his heart.
The sensation of kissing her almost ended him. He had been drowning in the ecstasy of her small, soft body pressed to his, the honeyed taste of her sweet lips, the bite of her nails sinking into his arms.
When she pulled away he’d been frozen for a moment, upended by her sudden disappearance.
And the crew had surrounded him with cameras before he could run after her.
“I need to go to her,” he’d growled at Olivia when she tried to ask how he felt.
But by the time they let him go, Margot was long gone.
What did I do wrong?
He puzzled over it as he approached the theater building, but came up with no theories.
Maybe he had not kissed her properly.
He had reached the theater, but he now realized his plan was flawed.
There were sixteen windows across the back of the building, and he had no idea which room was Margot’s.
There was a bond between the two of them already, ethereal as a spider web, but real. He was about to close his eyes and reach into it when a soft light appeared in one of the windows.
He moved toward it, daring to hope.
When he saw her silhouetted in the lamplight his heart sang.
This was surely a sign of their bond, it was as if he had summoned her.
He watched as she leaned on the windowsill, her cheek resting on her hand, gazing into the stars.
Was she thinking of him?
Realizing it might be an invasion to observe her without her knowing, he looked around for a pebble.
In the movies, the hero always threw a pebble at the heroine’s window to draw her attention.
He took a small stone in his hand and flung it upward.
It stopped shy of her window.
He threw another one but overshot. The pebble passed her window and then came back down.
But it was enough to draw her attention.
Margot looked downward.
Kent waved to her, hoping she would not run from him a second time.
She opened the window.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered.
“I needed to see you, to apologize,” he called up to her. “I want to make things right.”
“Do you have a camera crew with you this time?” she whispered ba
ck angrily.
Oh.
“I do not have a camera crew,” he called back to her. “It’s only me.”
She nodded.
“Please come down,” he said.
She disappeared from the window, then her light went out, and his heart sank.
He stood there a few more minutes wondering whether he could ever make things right between them.
Then she appeared around the side of the building and his heart rejoiced.
“Margot,” he said happily.
“Hi,” she replied, smiling back at him reluctantly.
Warmth spread in his chest and it took all his restraint not to put his arms around her.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said.
“There’s a path from the yard that leads into the woods,” Kent said. “We should be able to talk privately.”
She smiled up at him and nodded.
He took her hand, thrilling at the electricity that moved between them once more.
Silently they walked through the yard, past the tent and down the path into the trees beyond.
As soon as the branches closed in around them, Kent decided to take advantage of the moment to apologize.
“You were not angry at my kiss, but rather that I kissed you when cameras were watching,” he said. “Is that correct?”
“That is correct,” she said.
Truth. Thank goodness.
“I did not know they were following,” he told her. “They seemed to be packing away their equipment when we headed down the beach. And then I sort of forgot there was anyone else in the world but you.”
“You didn’t know?” she asked.
“I didn’t know,” he agreed.
“There was a spotlight on your face,” she said doubtfully. “It would have been warm, even with your eyes closed you would have sensed that much light.”
He hesitated.
His duty, if this woman accepted him as her mate, would be to protect and cherish her. How could he convince her he was a worthy protector if he admitted his innocence?
But he would not taint their bond with lies.
He squeezed her hand and stopped walking.
They had reached a clearing, and the moonlight allowed him to see her face.
“Margot, I may look human,” he said carefully, “but I’m not like other men you’ve met.”
She nodded but didn’t speak, her expression less doubtful now, more curious.
“I never kissed a woman before tonight,” he admitted. “And I will never feel with any other woman the way I feel with you.”
“What do you mean?” Margot asked.
“I feel like I’m burning from within whenever I touch you,” he told her. “I was unsurprised to see lights when we kissed. I saw much more than that. Did you feel it too?”
Her eyes widened slightly, and he prayed that she would tell him what he wanted to hear.
She nodded slightly and his heart leapt.
“Do you know what it means?” he asked her.
“What?” she whispered.
“It means you are my mate,” he told her. “And I am yours, if you will accept me.”
She stared at him in wonder.
It began to occur to him that it was strange she would participate in a contest to marry an alien while apparently knowing so little about them. The mating bond was a favorite topic on the news and in magazines.
“Mating for you… is it forever?” she asked.
“Forever.” He nodded, smiling down at her. He liked the sound of that word on her lips.
“But, you have to marry the winner of this contest,” she said.
“Then you will have to win,” he told her.
She laughed.
“That’s not really up to me,” she said. “What will you do if someone else wins? You’ll have to marry her.”
Fury clamped his chest at the idea and for a moment he was tempted to scream.
He closed his eyes and called to the peace he learned from meditation while adjusting to his human form.
When he felt in control of his emotions again, he opened his eyes.
“I will not marry another,” he told her firmly. “Our bond is fated. You will win the contest.”
“How can you know that you want to be with me forever?” she asked, taking another tack.
He realized then that she was only throwing obstacles in his path because she already wanted what he wanted. She was grasping at straws now, any reason that might help her avoid taking a step that would change their lives forever. A step she both craved and feared.
He didn’t blame her. The mate bond was frighteningly serious.
He looked forward to sealing it with Margot.
Kent’s heart was glad as he formulated his thoughts, taking care to phrase them in a way that he hoped would bring her pleasure.
“I know as much as I need to know about you,” he told her. “You are a good friend and a kind person. And you are attracted to me. I want to know the story of your life, when you are ready to tell it to me. But the bond is not contingent on your history or mine - only on our future together.”
He stopped just short of telling her that he knew she had lied.
He was sure she had her reasons.
She opened her mouth and closed it again.
“Margot Chase, will you accept me as your mate?” he asked her.
A strange expression crossed her face.
“Can I think about it?” she asked.
“There is no rush,” he told her, though saying it was painful. “I will wait.”
She smiled up at him and the pain of holding back was worth it. Anything would have been worth it.
When she went up on her toes, he was ready for her.
He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers.
She kissed him back, parting her lips slightly to give him access.
He slid his tongue against hers, tasting her sweetness again, loving the way she clutched his shoulders.
Margot pressed herself closer to him, crushing her breasts against his chest.
Kent clenched her tighter in his arms, desperate to claim her. Trying to overthrow his instincts was difficult when he could feel her need.
He longed to sate her. It was not only his desire to do so, but also his mission. His whole body had literally been designed solely for that purpose. Every inch of him was painstakingly crafted to bring pleasure to her senses.
Yet the bond was already taut between them, if he took his pleasure with her, it might solidify.
And he had promised her he would hold back.
Margot moaned against his mouth, a soft needy sound that sent shivers through him.
Every cell in his body cried out to assuage her need.
14
Margot
Margot clung to Kent, every stroke of his tongue sending her into a sea of need.
It seemed impossible that they were standing in the woods doing nothing more than kissing and she was already weak-kneed with desire.
She had never been kissed this way before, with infinite patience and focus.
He slid his hand slowly down her arm, caressing her gently.
Margot felt her nipples pebble against his chest in response.
He pulled away slightly.
She blinked up at him, hoping it wasn’t over.
“Lean back,” he told her, indicating a tree slightly behind her.
She took a step back and leaned against the smooth bark of the sycamore.
In the back of her head she wondered how far she would let this go. Margot had never been the outdoorsy type. But here she was, letting some man - no, some alien - tell her what to do, force her to engage with their wooded surroundings.
When he pinned her to the tree and kissed her again she forgot all her doubts. There was nothing but his clever mouth and his big warm body and the bottomless ocean of her own desire.
He slid his
hands down her arms again, this time allowing his thumbs to brush her nipples.
She moaned in spite of herself and he smiled against her mouth.
When he slid his hands up again, he pushed her shirt up with them.
She lifted her arms from his shoulders, allowing him to remove it completely.
“Oh, Margot,” he murmured.
She watched him as he took her in, his gaze adoring, careful, measured.
It hit her all over again that this was new to him. His confidence belied his innocence.
He wasn’t just admiring her, he was literally studying her.
And though she knew he was taking her measure, she felt no fear or embarrassment. He would love every inch, she was sure of it to her core. They were fated, he had been telling the truth.
He held out a reverent hand, as if waiting for her to demur.
She held her breath, waiting.
He caressed her left breast, stroking her nipple through the soft lace of her bra. She leaned into his touch, aching for more.
Emboldened, he slid the cup downward, exposing her breast. She felt her nipple tense further and tried not to whine with anticipation.
He repeated the movement on her right breast, then he bent to graze them with his lips, first the left and then the right.
Margot let her head fall back against the tree.
Kent licked one nipple into his mouth and sucked gently as he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger.
Margot arched her back and whimpered.
As if her reaction had goaded him on, Kent growled and nuzzled at her breasts, licking and sucking hungrily.
Margot sank her nails into his upper arms, moaning.
When he abandoned her breasts and began kissing his way down her belly she was shocked to feel relief.
Margot wasn’t fond of her middle and she was even less fond of men doing what she figured he was about to do.
In her experience they rushed through it and were clumsy and rough where she wanted gentleness.
But when he knelt before her the roughness of his jaw against the tender skin of her belly was delicious.
Kent hooked his thumbs under her waistband and pulled both her shorts and panties down to her ankles.
She held her breath when he pressed his face to her curls.