by Tasha Black
She reached her arms out to him, as if to invite him into her embrace.
But that he could not risk. Not if she wasn’t sure.
He kissed his way down her body instead.
“Drago,” she whispered, pressing her legs tightly together.
“Please,” he begged, brushing his lips against the tops of her thighs.
He nearly cried with relief when she spread her legs for him.
Her sex was pink and tender, and the scent of her hypnotized him.
He leaned closer, meaning to memorize every fold, to move slowly, reverently.
But he had to taste her first.
Arden cried out as he dragged his tongue along her opening.
She tasted as sweet as the blueberries.
He licked her again and again, his own rigid organ pulsing desperately as he felt her sex swelling and opening like a flower under his tongue.
Arden thrashed on the bed, tangling her hands in the sheets.
Drago rested his forearm over her hips, holding her still so that he could help her to ease the tension that practically lifted her off the bed.
10
Arden
Arden was lost in a sea of sensation.
Though some part of her brain distantly remembered that she had to try and stay quiet, the rest of her was attuned to Drago, her whole body a single nerve ending, sizzling with white hot pleasure at every stroke and wiggle of his wickedly talented tongue.
He shifted his weight onto her hips, holding her still with one big arm, and she felt the tension ratchet up another notch.
Drago applied his tongue to her firmly, making her frantic.
“Please,” she heard herself whisper in despair.
Then he was pressing a finger inside her, so slowly, as if he were exploring her.
Her body convulsed around him, drawing his finger deeper.
“Oh, Arden,” he groaned. “Oh, gods, you beautiful woman.”
She whimpered, trying to lift her hips under his weight, tilt herself up to his mouth. She was so close, so close…
“Please,” she moaned again.
Then he was licking around his own finger, lapping at her swollen clitoris, and sucking lightly, as if he had lost all restraint.
The pleasure lifted Arden on with shimmering wings, and she lost track of her own sounds as she felt herself lit up from the inside, and then bursting into a thousand glittering pieces on Drago’s tongue.
He nuzzled her inner thigh and crawled up beside her to pull her to his chest.
Her body still humming with pleasure, Arden slid her hand down his muscular chest.
But Drago caught her wrist in his hand.
“Don’t you want me to—?” she began.
“Sleep, my love,” he told her.
“Drago—”
“It’s not safe, Arden,” he whispered. “I won’t click with you until you’re ready.”
She wanted to argue, but he was stroking her hair in a way that made her feel so sleepy. She closed her eyes just for a minute, and enjoyed the sound of his heart beating beneath her head.
11
Arden
Arden awoke to a tapping on the door.
Pale sunlight filtered through her eyelids and she was warm, so warm.
She opened her eyes to find herself tangled in the sheets with Drago’s arms around her.
He was glorious in sleep, sunlight caressing his strong, stubbly jaw and glinting in his golden hair. She had never seen so many muscles. He looked like a child’s action figure come to life.
There was another knock at the door.
“H-hello?” Arden called.
“Tansy said we should come to the house for a family breakfast,” Burton called through the door.
“Okay, give me a few minutes,” Arden said.
She felt Drago stirring beside her.
“See you at the house,” Burton called back.
She turned to Drago.
He observed her, his blue eyes twinkling.
“D-did you sleep well?” she stammered, feeling her cheeks go red.
He nodded.
“Okay, well, I guess we need to get up,” she said, gesturing for him to get out of bed.
“Ladies first,” he said, raising an eyebrow.
Arden bit her lip. It was one thing to be naked in front of him last night, in the throes of passion, in the dark.
But now that she was staring down this perfect specimen of a man, it wasn’t so easy to peel her very normal body out of the sheets and pad around the tackle room in front of him.
“Are you shy?” he asked, as if he were reading her mind.
She shrugged.
“Arden, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he told her, his expression suddenly earnest.
“I’m the only woman you’ve ever seen,” she replied ruefully.
“You keep saying that,” he said, shaking his head. “You can’t believe it. You handed me all those videos yourself, Arden.”
“Those aren’t real women,” she said.
“Exactly,” he smiled. “You, Arden Green, are a real woman.”
She felt the blush go down to her toes this time.
Before she could lose her nerve, she launched herself out of bed and trotted into the tiny bathroom.
Though she closed the door right away, she could still hear him chuckling on the other side.
She cleaned herself up hurriedly, then took her hair down, brushed it and smoothed it back to put the elastic back in.
Her reflection stared back at her. She was the same Arden as always, same hazel eyes, same dark hair disappearing into a ponytail.
But there was something else there too - a sense of confidence she’d never felt before.
Arden had been with guys. There had been what seemed like a serious boyfriend her sophomore year of college. And then the rebound guy when she was done with the first one.
But neither of them had made her feel the way Drago did last night. He made her feel cherished, goddess-like.
And sexual ecstasy aside, he stimulated her other needs too. His alienness aroused her intellectual curiosity. And yet his calm, kind demeanor awakened comforting feelings of home.
Though his notions about choosing and accepting before clicking all sounded a bit like a debutante ball to Arden, she had no doubt that he believed in his traditions fully.
In spite of his bad boy smile, he was an old fashioned guy. She liked that.
And maybe there was something to this fated mate thing after all. She had longed for him since the first time he’d pulled back the curtain to accept her help. And she hadn’t felt even a hint of that about any of the others.
Arden took a deep breath, vowing to put these questions aside until after breakfast, and left the bathroom.
Drago stood by the bed.
“Go ahead and get something to eat,” he told her. “I’ll be right there.”
She smiled and he snagged her hand in his and pulled her in for a gentle kiss that quickly escalated.
Arden pulled away with the last of her resolve.
“We’re going to pick that kiss up where we left off tonight,” he growled.
She giggled and headed back to the farmhouse.
The sky was a brilliant blue and the dewy grass smelled delicious. It was a good day to work on a farm. Too bad the women were going to send them on their way today.
She wondered if they might find work on another farm. Tansy had made it sound like Bud would be interested in cheap labor.
She stepped in the back door of the farmhouse to a heavenly aroma. There was clattering and laughter coming from the kitchen.
“Burton, carry these out to the picnic table,” Tansy ordered.
Burton appeared in the back hall with a gigantic platter of pancakes.
“Good morning, Arden,” he said, winking.
“Good morning,” she replied, hoping the wink didn’t mean he knew what she had done last night.
&nbs
p; She fleetingly wondered how much noise she had made and thought it had probably been a lot.
Who would think a man could learn to do such things just by watching those videos? Drago was like a magician. Maybe it had been programmed into him somehow. In what she had seen from the videos, not a lot of effort was put into satisfying the women.
“Hey, Arden,” Tansy said. “Come in here and grab the orange juice and bring it out.”
Arden headed into the kitchen, trying to keep her mind in the present.
Sage was using tongs to pull thick strips of crispy bacon out of a cast iron pan and placing them on a paper towel to cool, while Riggs watched her, apparently mesmerized.
Tansy was sliding mugs onto a tray.
“Grab the sugar dish, Riggs,” Tansy said, shooing him back to the counter.
Arden grabbed a glass pitcher of orange juice and a carafe of coffee from the counter and headed out to the picnic table under the magnolia tree.
Riggs came out after her, the big alien making the sugar bowl and creamer look tiny in his gigantic hands.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked pointedly.
Arden swallowed. He clearly wasn’t asking her about sleep. He wanted to know if she and Drago were mated.
“Er, sort of,” she muttered.
“Ha. Sort of,” Riggs chuckled, overtaking her with his long strides.
“What’s he so happy about?” Sage asked as she approached, carrying the plate of bacon.
Arden shrugged and waited for her.
By the time they made it up to the table the others were all headed up too.
Tansy put a plate down in everyone’s place and Riggs began carefully pouring out coffee for the group.
Movement caught Arden’s eye and she saw Drago headed up the hill to join them.
He gave her his usual half smile and a little wave.
She grinned back at him.
“There you are, brother,” Burton called down.
“Glad you could make it, sleepyhead,” Tansy teased.
“Are those pancakes?” Riggs asked reverently.
“Johnny cakes,” Sage corrected him. “They’re Grandma Helen’s special recipe.”
“What’s the difference?” Arden asked as Drago sat down beside her.
“Cornmeal in the batter,” Sage said.
“And love, the secret ingredient is love,” Tansy said with a smile.
Sage rolled her eyes.
“Go ahead, roll your eyes, but tell me you can’t taste the love in these cakes,” Tansy teased.
“Thank you for the lovely breakfast,” Arden said. “And for everything. You’ve been wonderful. We will never forget your kindness.”
“About that,” Tansy said. “Sage and I were talking last night. You four sure know how to put in a hard day’s work. We were wondering if you might want to stay on a little longer.”
“You don’t seem to have drawn any attention from the government,” Sage said. “And we have a ton more berries that will rot in the fields if we don’t have help.”
Arden opened her mouth and felt Drago clamp his hand down on her thigh.
He didn’t want her to tell anyone about the agents who had been on the farm last night.
For all his innocence in the ways of Earth, he was showing himself to be pretty sophisticated.
Her mind went into overdrive. On the one hand, she felt compelled to tell their hosts about last night’s visitors. On the other, her duty was to protect these men. She had promised Dr. Bhimani. While she was committed to doing that under any circumstances, she didn’t really know how she would hide them and provide for them out on the road.
And after all, Agent Diaz had said she’d seen enough. Maybe it stood to reason that they wouldn’t be coming back.
“It would be our honor to stay and help you,” Drago said. “So long as Arden agrees.”
All eyes were on her.
“It would be our pleasure,” she managed. “Thank you.”
“Great,” Sage said. “Great. I know you heard a bit about the trouble we’re having last night. We’re offering you a temporary room and board gig. We can’t offer permanent positions since we don’t know how long we’ll own this farm.”
Tansy shook her head, but didn’t say anything.
“We will do everything in our power to help you make money and keep this farm,” Burton said. He was looking into Tansy’s eyes, his voice deep and serious enough that he sounded like Riggs.
“Thank you,” she said, tearing up a little.
“But it’s all for nothing if we don’t have peaches and pumpkins,” Sage said. “Those two crops are what makes up the lion’s share of the farm’s profit.”
Drago opened his mouth, then closed it again, as though he’d been about to ask about the existence of the lions, but thought better of it.
“I’d like to take a look at the peach trees, if that would be okay,” Arden offered. “Maybe fresh eyes can suss out the problem.”
“I’ll come too,” Drago added.
“Be our guest,” Sage said. “But eat your breakfast first. We’ll all need our strength if we plan to finish the blueberry harvest this week.”
Tansy grinned at her sister.
“What? You thought I was just going to crunch numbers in Helen’s office all day?” Sage asked. “I know how to pick blueberries too.”
Drago squeezed Arden’s thigh under the table again.
It was turning out to be a wonderful day, Arden decided.
12
Drago
Drago stepped into the peach orchard after Arden.
A canopy of branches nearly met overhead, making him feel as if they had entered a leafy corridor together.
The sounds of the road down beyond the farm were lost to the breeze rustling the leaves.
Drago felt at home.
All of his brothers had some sort of special gift, something a little extra that made them more than human. His gift was a connection to the plants of this planet. If he listened hard enough, he could feel their very essence, and even influence them, as he’d done with the ancient oak that had given its life to assist their escape.
He closed his eyes to commune with the trees.
They came to him as a hum. A cacophony that reminded him of the classical music Dr. Bhimani often played at the lab. He’d spent many hours learning about the various instruments, and how they combined to create something so much more than the sum of its parts. This was also true of the plants.
He focused his perception, teasing out the individual voices in the sweeping chorus.
The blueberry bushes down in the field twinkled like marimbas. The big magnolia tree over the picnic table purred like an oboe over the susurrations of the grass.
Each plant sang clear and true.
But the peach trees were different.
Their hum was raspy, like a saxophone growling, or an un-rosined bow drawn slowly against a string bass - dry and choked.
“Something’s wrong,” he said, opening his eyes.
“Yes,” Arden said.
She knelt beside one of the trees, caressing the bark as if it were a child who wasn’t feeling well.
Her tenderness endeared her to him. So many humans failed to see their botanical brothers as alive.
While Drago had come to accept that grass was meant to be walked on and fruit was meant to be eaten, he did not like the brazen carelessness with which humans cut down trees and polluted their environment.
Watching Arden’s hand draw comforting swirls on the trunk of the peach tree moved him in ways he hadn’t expected.
It took him a moment to realize she expected him to make a suggestion.
“They need something,” he managed.
“I thought they might have some type of boring beetles,” Arden said. “But the bark looks healthy.”
“How do you know?” Drago asked.
“Borers usually leave powdery dust behind on the bark,” she explained.
She
had that little furrow on her forehead again.
“It seems like they’re choking,” he suggested.
“The soil drains well,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m wondering if it’s aphids.”
“What are aphids?” Drago asked.
“They’re tiny white insects,” Arden said. “They eat leaves and they’re very common in peach trees. A lot of them you can’t see with the naked eye.”
Drago closed his eyes again and listened.
The peach trees gasped and sighed like a hundred broken accordions.
He didn’t think they were being nibbled by microscopic mouths.
“I don’t know,” he said, not wanting to tell her she was wrong.
“It doesn’t feel like aphids to me either,” Arden admitted.
“I think they’re choking,” he said again. “Do you think it’s the water?”
“No,” she replied. “Look at the leaves - they’re on the dry side, honestly. They probably need more water.”
“No,” Drago said instinctively. “There’s something wrong with the water.”
13
Arden
Arden turned to Drago, shocked at the iron in his voice.
He was an enormous man. He could have been intimidating, yet he was always so soft spoken and gentle. She had never heard him speak forcefully.
“What do you see?” she asked. “Why do you think it’s the water?”
Drago’s jaw clenched and his mouth formed a thin line.
“It’s the water,” he growled. “We have to stop watering them.”
Arden felt her hackles go up. She recognized the because-I-said-so tone in Drago’s voice. It was the same one her step-dad used to have any time she dared to ask a question.
“If it’s the water, then where are the signs?” she asked, determined to keep her cool. “The leaves are dry, the drainage is fine. Why is it the water?”
“It just is,” he said, sounding frustrated.
Arden took a deep breath. She had done nothing wrong, there was no reason he should be frustrated with her.