by Selena Kitt
“He got a name?”
Silence greeted him. He had even missed her silence.
Cord pointed at himself, “Cord,” he said before pointing at her, “Hope.” This time he pointed at the boy.
The boy darted away between the legs of the assembled Camo. Cord tried to follow him, but Hope placed a hand on his forearm, halting him. It wasn’t long before his son came back with something in his hand. He held it up and unfurled his fingers so Cord could see.
Cord picked up the small leaf and looked at it. He pointed between the boy and the leaf. “Leaf?”
Hope smiled.
“Leaf,” he said again. “That’s smart.”
“Lif,” Leaf tried, garbling the foreign sounds in his mouth.
Cord pointed again, this time at the male who had usurped him. He watched as Hope picked up a stick and drew figures in the dirt. He didn’t want to see Camo erotic artwork but he forced himself to keep looking.
First she drew two figures. She pointed to one then herself, to another and him, and then added a line between them. Another line, this one horizontal ended with a third smaller figure, which she indicated was Leaf. He nodded to show he understood her stick figure family tree.
Hope nodded and moved back so she could add more. Another stick figure next to the one that represented her and two more above and—
“He’s your brother?” Cord exploded. He swore and belatedly covered Leaf’s ears so he wouldn’t learn any of his uncivilized language. All this time he had thought she had belonged to another Camo. He kicked the dirt with his bare foot and kept his cursing internal.
He advanced on Hope’s brother and fisted his hands, ready to take out his years of frustration on the person responsible for keeping him from Hope.
No one moved.
They wanted to, Cord could see that. Their leader was about to be pummeled, by an alien, but they remained in place.
He sighed and lowered his fists. How could he fight her brother? He should have done it years ago. Fought for Hope.
The woman he had regretted leaving touched his shoulder. He turned and gathered her up in his arms and kissed her. Crut the audience. He had missed this. Missed her. Wanted her. Needed her. He wasn’t giving her up now. Nor would he his son.
By the time they had come up for air the rest of the Camo had vacated the area, leaving them alone. Even Leaf was missing. Cord panicked but Hope caressed his bristled cheek and smiled toward the large tent.
He looked over her shoulder and saw the boy peeping out at them before someone took his hand and led him away, allowing them some much needed privacy. Hope laced her fingers through his and tugged him toward the tent next door. It wasn’t as large as the chief’s but it outrivaled the other Camo tents in the camp. It was her home, he realized. Perhaps their home, because he wasn’t leaving her again. Wherever she and their son went, he would go.
But that was the future. Right now he had three years to catch up on, and he intended to make up for it by being there and making love to her whenever she was up to it. She was, after all, going to be the death of him.
ABOUT ERICA CONROY
I’m Erica and I live in New Zealand—otherwise known to the rest of the world as: that pretty scenic place where they made the Lord of the Rings and all those Hobbit movies. I spend most of my time writing (also procrastinating), reading, hanging with my long-suffering husband and frolicking with the neighbor’s cat.
As a writer I delight in plotting evil and writing it all down for others to read and enjoy/despair–muahahahahahahahaha!
website: http://ericaconroy.com
mailing list: http://ericaconroy.com/e/#newsletter
Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/ericaconroyauthor/
Find more books by Erica on her Amazon Author Page
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Kilted Tentacle Monster by Aurelia Skye
Angus Buchanan was lonely. There was no denying it. He was keenly aware of the sense of emptiness that always seemed to accompany him, but even more so today, as he watched his eldest cousin getting married. Their union was beautiful and symbolic of finding a soul mate. Both Colin and Liana had tears in their eyes by the time the priest announced them married.
Angus had to blink back a bit of moisture himself. He cleared his throat to get a grip on his emotions, knowing losing control could be disastrous. It would be bad enough back in Scotland, in the village near their ancestral lands. At least most of the folks there were familiar with the strange ancestry of the Buchanan family. But the idea of losing his control here was unthinkable. Modern American wedding guests would freak out.
He imagined Liana would freak out as well. After all, Colin had been lucky enough not to inherit the... trait... that cursed Angus. It was doubtful he’d ever told his fiancée, now wife, the truth of their alien ancestry. The other man had been able to leave behind their peculiar history when he’d emigrated from Scotland ten years ago.
Angus wished he could be so lucky. Alas, he was cursed with the family oddity. Some of his relatives considered it a blessing, but not him. It made things awkward and uncomfortable when trying to date a woman. That explained why he was still a twenty-five-year-old virgin.
As though to remind him of that sad fact, his older brother nudged him as they lined up to accompany the bridal attendants back down the aisle. “She’s a lovely lass.”
Angus barely glanced at the tiny black woman he was paired with. “Aye.” She certainly was, but there was no point in getting his hopes up. He knew that well enough by now.
“Liana said weddings are mostly an excuse to hook up, brother, at least for the singles.” Ian nudged him again just as Angus stepped out of range, making him stumble a bit as he approached the lovely woman. Trying to hide his blush from the clumsiness, he extended an arm. “Hello again, Sasha.”
She smiled, her full lips catching his attention in a way that made him ache. “Hello, Angus.” Tilting her head sent a wave of loose curls cascading across his arm. “I do hope I’ll be a better conversationalist this afternoon.”
He smiled, trying to ignore the way her curls clung to his arm, wrapping around his bicep like a tentacle. “I believe I’m the problem, lass. My thick brogue, you know.”
“This is your first visit to America, right?” At Angus’s nod, she sighed. “I’m sorry it had to be Akron, Ohio. There are much better places to see.”
“Aye. I did want to see southern California, but...” He shrugged, unable to verbalize how daunting the idea of mingling with so many people had left him fearful of losing control. Stress, fear, or excitement could loosen control of his peculiarity, so it was safer to stick with small crowds. Even the hundred-plus guests at the wedding were making him nervous.
“I live in San Diego. Next time you come, we’ll meet up there, and I’ll show you around.”
He nodded, but knew he’d never take her up on the offer. It was probably a kindness not supported by any real sincerity. She had been a gracious dining companion yesterday at the rehearsal dinner, and she was pleasant today, but that didn’t mean she had any interest in him.
Oh, he supposed he was handsome enough. Built along the same sturdy, muscular lines of all the other men in his family, he’d caught a few feminine eyes before. There had even been that one awkward time when he was sure Seamus O’Malley was checking him out. The Buchanan tawny hair and green eyes made plenty of panties wet, according to Ian, but he’d never tried that trick for himself.
As the afternoon passed, he enjoyed Sasha’s company more and more. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one. Angus found himself partaking of a few too many whiskeys from the open bar as twilight approached. His bridesmaid was busy dancing with every other lad in the place, and every single one of them held her much too close. She ought to slug them.
Or he could. Angus shook his head. She hadn’t invited him to have any sort of emotions f
or her, and she certainly didn’t need his protection in a room full of guests. No matter how attractive he found her, he knew it was another relationship destined to fail before it could begin. Tossing back one more whiskey, he slammed the glass onto the table a bit more forcefully than necessary.
With a nod at his brother, who had flown over with him, but wasn’t sharing his room, he got up from the table and left the wedding. As soon as he was in the modest room on the third floor of the bed and breakfast hosting his cousin’s wedding, he started stripping off his formal jacket and the shirt underneath. The darned things were terribly itchy. At least Colin had selected kilts. Pants were a special kind of torture with his heritage and required even more rigid control than usual to make sure nothing slipped out.
Still in the kilt, he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Angus stared at himself in the mirror. “You’re a sad case, laddie.” He shook his head at his reflection, stroking his stubbly chin. “Going to die a virgin no doubt.”
It was too bad their family was the only one he’d ever heard of afflicted with their particular mutation. All the Buchanans with his trait were male, but the women of the line obviously knew about the affliction. It couldn’t be helped when it cropped up every generation or two, sometimes in solitary cases, and other times in sibling clusters. Ian and Callum had both been born without the gene, but his own father was afflicted, as were two of his uncles.
He had just returned his toothbrush to the travel bag when someone knocked on his door. Assuming it would be Ian, he didn’t bother with looking through the peephole, so it was a shock to see curvaceous Sasha on the other side of the door. He was still staring at her, mouth agape, when she pushed the door gently and entered his room. Angus blinked when she closed it behind herself.
“You didn’t say goodbye.” She pouted up at him, pursing her rounded lips. They would look so good wrapped around—
He shook his head to shove away that thought. “I... uh...”
She sashayed closer, the lavender dress hugging her hips and breasts in a way that made his thoughts enter forbidden territory. “I really had hoped not to say goodbye at all, at least not until tomorrow morning.”
A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead and into his eye, making him blink. “Uh...”
Sasha tilted her head up at him, her hair once again clinging to him like a tentacle as she moved so close there was no space left between them. “Do I make you nervous, Angus?”
“Aye.” He shivered when she trailed a neatly manicured finger down his chest, his breath hissing between his teeth when she raked his stomach lightly with the acrylic tip.
Sasha laughed, and the rich sound made his head spin. “Good. I was starting to think you didn’t like me. Or maybe you like boys?”
Angus shook his head.
She licked her red lips. “Which is it, honey? You don’t like me, or you don’t like boys?”
“I like you just fine,” he said gruffly, aware of the stiffening and stirring between his legs that he fought to suppress.
Her finger flirted with the waistband of his kilt. “I like you just fine too, sweetie.” She leaned close enough to brush her lips against his pecs. “I’d like to spend the night with you.”
He stiffened and put his hands on her shoulders, planning to push her away tenderly. “That’s a terrible idea, lass.”
Sasha frowned. “So you don’t like me?”
“I like you too much.” It was getting hard to keep everything where it needed to be kept and out of sight.
She didn’t wait for further explanation or give him time to protest. Instead, she stretched on her tiptoes, grabbed his shoulders, and pressed her lips to his.
A jolt of electricity shot through him, radiating from his lips and throughout his body. It wasn’t Angus’s first kiss, but it was the first one that made him feel so alive. When her tongue probed between his lips to slip inside his mouth, Angus forgot about pushing her away. Instead, he grasped the petite woman in his arms and pulled her closer. Her curvy body felt so good against his, and he deepened the kiss.
Lost in the sensations her mouth provoked, Angus forgot to remain in firm control of his musculature. As things stiffened below, they also started to drift from the firm position he’d locked them into, curled around his upper legs. He splayed his hand across her back and another gripped her hip, pulling her as close as he could.
Angus moaned when she licked his lips and was rewarded with her reciprocal moan when he repeated the motion. He knew he was unrestrained, but couldn’t stop. Since he was old enough to understand, his father had drilled into him the importance of maintaining bodily control at all times.
It should have been second nature to him, and normally was, but the bald truth was, he was still a virgin. The intimate touch of a woman, when he was so lonely for contact, had placed him in a precarious state. It was only a matter of time before he completely lost control. A vague whisper in the back of his mind warned him of that, but he ignored it to focus on the sweet mouth against his and the curve of the breast under his hand as he slid his hand upward to cup it.
Sasha froze when he touched her breast, and he wasn’t too far gone to realize it. Angus broke the kiss, blinking. He was about to ask her if she wanted him to stop when she spoke first.
“What the hell was that?”
He looked down, not surprised to see his tentacles had escaped the kilt to stroke and caress the woman in his arms. Even as he tried to push her away, his tentacles wrapped tighter, holding her against him. Damned things had a mind of their own when they wanted. Feeling nauseated, he made himself meet her brown eyes, preparing for her to scream or shove him away in horror.
Instead, she looked intrigued. “Are those cephalopod arms?”
“Huh?” In surprise from her lack of freak-out, the tentacles loosened, and he stepped back. He watched, shocked, when she dropped to her knees to lift one of his tentacles in her hands. Her touch ignited nerve endings he’d been unaware of and made him moan softly.
She gently caressed the length of his front tentacle, turning over the appendage to touch the underside. Sasha looked up at him, interest gleaming in her eyes. “The suckers are just at the end of your limb, so it’s technically a tentacle.”
“What?” Angus cleared his throat. “Aren’t you afraid?”
Sasha frowned. “No, why should I be? You aren’t going to turn into one of those anime raping tentacle beasts, are you?”
“Of course not.”
“Good. This is fascinating.”
Angus lost the ability to stand and sank to the floor beside her. All four of his tentacles undulated gently, reaching for the woman beside him. She didn’t bat them away as they explored her carefully. Instead, she examined in return. He groaned softly when she pressed her finger into the center of one his suckers.
“How does that feel?”
“Nice.” Nice didn’t even begin to describe it. His suckers were almost as sensitive as the tip of his penis, and having a woman stroke them was generating a raging storm of excitement he was having difficulty quelling.
Sasha stroked the outer ridge of the sucker. “The infundibulum doesn’t seem to be as sensitive as the acetabulum.” She pressed into the very center of the sucker as though testing a theory.
Angus sucked in a deep breath and struggled to keep one of his tentacles from trying to creep under the hem of her dress. “Could you please stop?”
“Oh, sorry.” She immediately stopped touching his sucker, but didn’t let go of the tentacle cradled on her lap. “I’m a marine biologist, and I let scientific curiosity get the best of me, I guess. Didn’t mean to treat you like a lab experiment.”
He wiped his brow. “It’s not that. The spot you were touching feels good... really good... Makes me...”
“Ahh,” she said with a note of delight. “It’s an erogenous zone for you?” At his nod, she stroked over his suckers again, seeming to enjoy the way he squirmed and closed his eyes.
Angu
s’s eyes snapped open again when she brought the tentacle to her mouth to gently lick one of his suckers. “Sasha.” His body jerked when she did it again, and he couldn’t seem to find the words to tell her he was on the brink of losing control.
“How did this happen, Angus?” Gently, she traced her tongue around another sucker at the end of his tentacle, while her hand reached for the one trying to slip inside her skirt. She squeezed it gently and began pumping the appendage the way she would a typical erection.
“About five hundred years ago, an ancestor crashed his space ship in the loch. My female ancestor found him. I’ve heard different accounts, from they fell madly in love to he ravished her, but the end result was his genetics became a part of our familial line. Some of us get the curse, and others don’t.” How he managed to string the words together, he had no idea, since his senses were under assault from her mouth and hands.