by Dixon, Ruby
I've never been in rut before. I can't say it's fun so far. Even now, Jenna turns a knob on her vehicle and points vents at my face. Cool air washes over my skin, but it’s not enough.
I should have taken a third dose of the stupid antidote, because even the amount I took isn’t enough. Even drugged as I am, she still smells incredible. I’ve been around females in the past, but never have they affected me quite like this human female does.
A goofy smile crosses my face.
"What?" she snaps at me, glancing over as she pilots her vehicle.
"You smell pretty."
She snorts with irritation. "Just shut up. I'm taking you to your house and then we're never seeing each other again."
I laugh, because I like it even when she’s cutting to me. So fierce. It's adorable. I’m…starting to wonder if there is something in Earth's water that makes a male feel strange, because I feel both giddy and gut-clenchingly sick.
Jenna pulls up to the street address I gave her and parks the car, then frowns at our surroundings. "This is a park."
"Yes." I wipe more sweat from my face and wonder if I have enough strength to drag her to my shuttle. Probably not.
"I thought you said you lived here in Albuquerque?" The look she shoots me is aghast.
"I’m here temporarily. This is where I’ve chosen." My shuttle is still cloaked in the air nearby, but I can't tell her that. "It’ll be fine. Just leave me here."
She makes a strangled sound in her throat. "I can't leave you in a damn park. Not while you're coming down off of this crap. You'll die. It's a hundred degrees out here." Jenna looks over at me. "Where can I take you? For real?"
"Don’t worry over me, Jenna." Secretly, I am pleased that she is so concerned over a stranger. She acts as if she hates me, but here she is, tending to me. She has a kind heart and I like that. Well, I like her ample figure, too, but I think my mother would approve of my mate's tender heart more.
My stomach clenches painfully even as I realize what I just called her—my mate. So much for a convenient human bride to be forgotten the moment I leave the planet. In my mind, Jenna is already mine. I think about sneaking her into the ship—at least until we're halfway back to R’Etor, because god stars, Heriot will not be pleased.
He'll just have to get over it. I reach over and cover Jenna's small hand with mine, giving her my most woebegone look - not that difficult considering how debilitating the antidote is. "You’ve done enough to help me. Truly." And I do my best to look fragile and sick. Kind of tricky for a R’Etor male, considering I'm twice the size she is, but the sweat pouring off of my overheated body helps.
Jenna makes a frustrated growl in her throat. "Can I take you to a hotel? Do you even have the money for a hotel?"
Another wave of sickness washes over me. This time I don't have to feign weakness. I lean my head back against the seat and close my eyes, trying to decipher what she is saying. "It is…a domicile you purchase with funds?"
"Oh my god, what freaking third world country are you from where they don't have hotels?" She shifts a gear on her primitive vehicle and then backs up. "Fuck it. I'm taking you to my apartment. My roomie can see what a shitshow this date is so when I say 'I told you so' she realizes just what I mean."
I do not understand half of what she just said, but it sounds like she’s taking me home. Perfect. I’ll be at her side when the antidote wears off. My cock stirs in response—and a fresh wave of sickness hits me, making me double over.
Stupid antidote. How does any assassin reach their targets on a world like this? No wonder the T'Antor brothers decided to hide on this planet. It practically cripples any able-bodied male.
Unless they find a Jenna of their own. I reach out and touch her shoulder again, only to have her brush aside my hand. Such a prickly one. Even in the depths of my illness, I approve.
She is perfect.
5
JENNA
I pull up to the apartment complex and stare at my building for a moment. I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm taking Jadzion back to my apartment. I glance over at him, and he's flushed on his cheeks and yet his mouth is starkly pale, and he's dripping sweat. His hair is plastered to his head and for the first time, I notice his ears.
Are they…pointed? Surely not. Just a trick of the eye. I shake my head to clear it, then turn the car off. "Come on, Jadzion. I'm on the second floor." I move to the other side of the car and open the door, then help him stand. The unnatural flush seems to be deepening, his skin turning a strange deep reddish shade. Oh god. "Let's get you inside where it's cool, okay?" He makes it to his feet, sways, and I put his arm around my shoulders so I can support him.
"You are…a…good female," he says, words slurred.
"Yeah, well if you try anything, I'm going to stab you with a fork," I tell him. I know it's stupid to take a stranger—especially this stranger—up to my apartment, but he's so very weak that I'm not afraid. Heck, the only thing I'm worried about is if I'm going to have to call an ambulance for him, because he doesn't look good at all. "Just do me a favor and say no to drugs in the future, mmmkay?"
He laughs, then makes a sound of pain.
It seems to take an eternity to get up the stairs to my apartment, going one step at a time. Once inside, I help Jadzion to the sofa, where he crashes with a groan. "Kayleigh?" I call out, racing through the apartment. I put the air conditioning to 60 degrees, and then snag a fan from my bedroom and head back out to the living room. It takes me a moment to realize that my roomie isn't answering, and I pick up a note from the coffee table.
GONE OUT WITH CHAD! XO DON'T WAIT UP —KAY
Damn it. I love Kayleigh, but she's kind of a flake. I sigh, plug in the fan, and then go to bring Jadzion a glass of water. When I move to his side, though, he's unconscious, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open. A snore escapes him.
Charming.
I set the glass of water down and sit on the coffee table, gazing at my “problem.” I put a hand to his forehead, and he doesn't feel feverish, which is odd. He's sweating like crazy, though, and his skin's that unnatural shade of red. Maybe it's a sun allergy, given his lack of color. That makes almost a weird kind of sense. I should probably try to cool him down if it's not, though. With that in mind, I move to his big, heavy boots and try to tug one off. The moment I do, there's a hiss and the zipper undoes itself, the boot practically falling into my hands.
I drop it, shocked. What the heck just happened? Blinking, I look down at Jadzion, but he's not moving. Cautious, I head over to the other boot and lightly touch it with one finger. Nothing happens. "Maybe he's not the one with heatstroke, Jenna," I mutter to myself.
But when I put both hands on the second boot to remove it, the hiss happens again, and then I'm holding the second loose boot. Whatever it is, is it triggered by both hands on the clothing?
My gaze immediately goes to his tight pants, where his crotch is outlined in a rather stark (and okay, interesting) fashion. No, Jenna. Bad Jenna. I shake my head and focus on his shirt, putting both hands on his shoulder. Sure enough, the shirt practically shucks itself, and then Jadzion is naked to the waist on my couch.
And…mercy.
Did I think he looked good in the shirt? Because he looks mouth-watering out of it. His abs are sculpted magnificence, and his narrow waist leads up to big, heavy shoulders and thick arms that show he's no stranger to the gym. I've never seen such well-defined pectorals, and I can't stop staring at all of him. It doesn't help that he's lightly sheened with sweat, making all of that hard musculature glisten.
I've never drooled over a man before, but I swipe a hand over my mouth just in case, and then put both of my hands on his wristwatch, because now that his sleeve is off, I see that the device goes all the way up to the elbow and seems to have all kinds of odd dials and equipment attached to it. Some sort of Sharper Image utility device, I wonder? I have no idea.
The moment it falls off of his arm, it chirps and then spits out an incomprehensib
le stream of syllables. I drop it on the ground, surprised, and then want to smack myself. This is clearly the “Siri” in whatever language his country speaks. I'm just being a dork. I pick up the device and examine it, looking for a way to turn it off. There's a tiny button on one side, so I click on it.
The voice begins to speak again. Ah, shit. I tap on it frantically, pushing buttons in the hopes that something will turn off. Instead, there's a whirring sound outside that grows louder by the second. Uneasy, I move to the window, wondering if it's the mowers or what.
To my shock, I watch as what looks like a spaceship (or a sleek-looking car with wings) flies toward the building, settles down lightly in the midst of the parking lot, and then flickers with light. The watch speaks again, and then the spaceship disappears.
Surely…surely these things aren't connected? I stare out at the parking lot, befuddled, and then press the button on the watch (if it is that) again. Sure enough, “Siri” starts talking again, the ship takes to the air, then immediately settles in again. It flashes, then when the watch speaks once more, it disappears again.
It's not a damn smartwatch. It's somehow attached to his spaceship, and I just called it.
A freaking spaceship.
I turn and look back at Jadzion, shocked. No wonder he's such a weirdo. He's not an albino. He's a freaking alien. I storm over to his side. "Wake up, damn it! I need answers!"
He only groans and tosses his head on the couch pillows, sweat pouring from his skin. My anger dissipates and I perch next to him on the couch, concerned for his health. If he really is an alien—and it doesn't seem possible and yet it makes sense at the same time—then he could be dying. I chew on my lip, trying to determine what I can do to help him.
Or if I want to. He's kind of been a jerk.
A bead of sweat trickles down between two perfect, pale pectorals and I find myself utterly mesmerized by that. I shake my head to clear it, then get to my feet, wetting down a towel and then moving back to his side. I place it on his brow, mopping away some of the sweat. "Even if you're a douchebag, I can't let you die."
Jadzion groans again, his eyes closed.
"Yeah. Me too, buddy." I continue to gently wipe his face. "When you wake up, we're going to have a nice long talk about who you are and why you're here." I pause for a moment, thinking, then add, "And why you need a bride."
I'm not stupid. He didn't exactly declare love and he said he needed a bride. Today. So obviously there are some sort of shenanigans afoot that require a wedding. I sincerely doubt it was love at first sight, and nothing Jadzion said indicated otherwise. So I want to know why he needs a wife before I send him on his way and out of my life.
But first…I'm going to delete my N'ferno profile.
6
JADZION
When I wake again, I feel like myself once more. My stomach isn’t trying to heave itself out of my throat and my head no longer pounds. My cock, however, is achingly erect and shows no signs of going down, no matter how long I lie quiet and still. This…could be a problem. It means that the antidote is completely out of my system. It also means that if I am attracted to a female, I could leap upon her like a wild creature in the full heat of rut.
Not a problem I wanted to have while on a job. Heriot's going to have my head if I don't uphold my end of the contract. I've got time, I hope. All I need is a way in to that building without being detected and I can finish the job in a matter of minutes.
It's just the whole “get in without notice” part that's causing a problem.
"Are you awake?" Jenna's soft voice carries through the small room.
My cock throbs painfully in awareness of her nearness. I wince, because the heat surging through my body is entirely different from the fever of the antidote. My mind fills with mental images of tossing her to the floor and ripping her clothes off like a savage beast until she's naked and writhing before me, her cunt glistening with arousal.
I groan aloud.
A cool wet cloth touches my brow. "Tell me what you need, Jadzion. Water? More air conditioning? What?"
You under me and my cock buried so deep inside you that we feel as if we are one body, I want to say, but I bite back the words. Already I can feel the savagery mounting inside me. I need to take this under control—one way or another—or I'm not going to be able to function. Every waking thought is going to be on copulating—repeatedly and often—with Jenna. It would be so much easier for me if she was unsightly or unpleasant to look upon, but she's beautiful in her strange, colorful human way. "Just give me a moment."
"Right." I hear the rustle of her clothing as she gets up and mentally picture it slithering up her gently curved belly as she pulls her top off. She'd reveal big, bouncy breasts the same flushed rosy color as her cheeks, and her reddish-brown hair would sweep over her shoulders like a dying ember and—
I slap a hand over my crotch as I nearly spill in my pants. Groaning, I double over again, gritting my teeth and completely on edge.
"You…uh…want some aspirin or something?"
If that is an invitation to copulate, I am the luckiest R’Etor alive. Only…I am not entirely sure what it is. With one hand still pressing hard on my throbbing cock, I reach for my tracker to discreetly look up the term—but my arm is bare. My tracker is gone. "Uh."
Heriot is really going to have my head now. That's the third tracker I've misplaced in the last cycle.
"Aspirin is tablets for pain," Jenna says, interpreting my panicked thoughts. I hear her moving about and crack one eyelid open. It might be the worst idea I've ever had, but I can't resist. And by all the thirteen god-stars, she is a sight to behold. She wears a tight black skirt that outlines the most unearthly, lush ass I've ever seen, and as I watch, she turns away to pick up a tumbler of clear liquid. Her ass sways and then juts out as she lightly leans over her counter, and I give my cock a painfully hard squeeze. I can feel how wet the front of my pants are just from the pre-cum that's leaking all over my lap, but I'm so close to losing control that there's nothing I can do about it.
If she licks her lips, I'm going to spill like a youth in his first rut.
"So," Jenna says as she turns around and brings the glass of liquid—most likely water, judging from the lack of olfactory clues—over to my side. "Do all the aliens on your planet pick up chicks on dating apps, or am I just lucky?"
I go still. "Aliens? You think I'm an alien?" I force a light smile to my mouth and laugh. "You’re funny."
"And you are full of shit. I saw your spaceship."
She did? I frown to myself, then realize that my tracker is gone and she must have called my shuttle. Damn it. The number of reasons for Heriot to have my head are mounting by the moment.
"It's not a spaceship," I bluff.
"Bullshit it's not!" She looks indignant, the color rising in her cheeks—and my cock rises in response. By all the god-stars, I am in trouble unless I get more of the antidote. "I need you to start telling the truth because you're really, really terrible at lying."
Am I? Perhaps I do not make a convincing human after all. "Why would you think I am an alien?" I ask, curious. "Not that I am, but I would know what makes you believe such a thing."
Jenna arches an eyebrow at me. "Really? We're still playing this game? Fine. You want to know what makes you an alien?" She gestures where I lie. "Let's start with your coloring, as in, you have none."
"There are no pale humans?"
"One, there are pale humans, but it's a genetic rarity and their eyes are pink. And two, you just said 'humans' instead of people. That's a dead giveaway right there. Or how about number three, you drive a spaceship that disappears and parks itself. I think that's a good start, don't you?"
I force myself to sit up and grab one of the pillows on her reclining couch and push it in front of my throbbing cock. "If I was an alien, would it bother you?"
"That depends on what you plan on doing here. Are you here to invade Earth?"
I snort at the thought. "Ple
ase. No one wants to invade Earth. Your planet is far too dirty."
"Dirty?" She looks shocked.
I wave a hand in the air. "Even now we're breathing in filth. You're all shortening your lifespans choking on all these emissions you keep pumping into the air. I've been on outer rim space stations with cleaner oxygen." I gesture at her kitchen. "Your people haven't figured out how to recycle their waste and you're practically swimming in it. And don't even get me started on the rodents and insects." I shudder at the thought.
Her brows furrow together and she looks adorably confused. "If our planet's so darn gross, why are you trying to invade it?"
"I'm not. I'm here for a job."
"A non-invading job?" She moves to the low table in front of her sofa and sits down on it, across from me. This close, she's so near I can see the specks of color across the bridge of her nose, and my pulse races. "What kind of job?"
"I am not supposed to speak of it." If she comes closer, though, I suspect my mouth will fall open and spill all my secrets. Anything for her touch.
I watch her, mesmerized, as she leans in, tucking a long strand of hair behind one delicately rounded ear. "If you don't speak of it, I'm kicking you out, right now. And then I'm calling the cops."
"Cops?"
"Law enforcement."
I scrub a hand down my face. "That would be a problem. This mission requires secrecy."
"Well then, spill it." Her pink mouth is firm. Firm and full and so beautiful that my cock throbs again. I can't stop staring at her. She’s not even drooling all over herself like the females in the vids, but it doesn’t matter. I’d mate her anyhow.
I hesitate. "Can I trust you?"
"You wanted to marry me a half hour ago. Now you're asking for trust? Which is it?"
She has a point. "The marriage was to be part of the job," I answer, because that is information I can give. I'm not sure about the rest. Heriot will have my head, but I suspect he will anyhow. This is all not going as planned, that’s for certain. I can always look for new ways to break into the building and acquire my target, but most involve a certain amount of noise and visibility that would draw the wrong attention. I can't bomb the damn thing. I can't go in with weapons and just mow everyone down. It's a job that requires delicacy.