Hanna and the Hitman: A SciFi Alien Romance (Alien Abduction Book 8)

by Honey Phillips

  “I’m ready.”

  Aidon took her hand and started for the door.

  “Hanna is not Pardorian. You should assume the public form. For her sake, not yours,” Tanor added quietly.

  For a moment, she thought that Aidon would ignore him, but then he sighed and a tremor ran over his body. Instead of velvety multicolored skin, he now had the same sleek green scales that his grandfather wore. His hands turned smooth and dry in hers. As many times as she had seen him flicker through changes on the ship, it still startled her to be so close to him when he changed.

  “That’s amazing,” she whispered.

  “It is natural,” Tanor said, but Aidon’s face hardened.

  He started to pull her toward the door, but she tugged on his hold until he released her hand. She turned back to Tanor.

  “Thank you for everything.”

  He dipped his head in acknowledgment, and she went up on tiptoes and kissed his smooth green cheek. Aidon growled from behind her, but she ignored him and smiled at his grandfather.

  “I hope I see you again.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Aidon snarled and grabbed her hand.

  This time she didn’t resist and followed him out of the house and down the short path to the jungle edge. She glanced back over her shoulder once, but even knowing that it was there, she could barely make out the outlines of the cabin. Only the tall green figure standing in the doorway made it visible. She lifted a hand in farewell before the curtain of vegetation fell between them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Aidon stalked down to the river in frustrated silence. Hanna’s obvious sympathy for his grandfather both annoyed him and woke a specter of guilt. The old man’s words haunted him. He remembered that particular night so well.

  One of the other boys had taunted him into spending the night in a cravan’s nest.

  The eggs were on the verge of hatching, and he spent the entire night crouched in the thorny branches that made up the huge nest with his hand on his knife. If the eggs hatched, he would be facing five hungry cravans, their razor-sharp beaks and claws more than enough to rend the flesh from his bones. While his natural coloring provided some protection, his inability to shift meant that he would be clearly visible to the hatchlings—or to the parent cravan when she returned. Twice he heard the mother call out, but she did not come back to the nest, spending the night hunting for her offspring instead.

  When day finally broke, he scrambled down from the tree and made his way back to the village. He was tired, cold, and hungry, but he was also proud that he had made it through the night. But when he returned, his grandfather was crouched by the fire with the other village elders and instead of praising him, scolded him for not completing his chores and sent him to gather jinsar.

  He had seen it as yet another instance of his grandfather’s disappointment and lack of interest in him. Could there have been more to it then he had assumed?

  “Aidon, please slow down,” Hanna called out from behind him, and he was immediately consumed by guilt. He turned to look back at her and saw that her pale skin was flushed and dampness trickled down her face.

  “I’m sorry, saachi. I was lost in my thoughts.” He smiled ruefully. “I’m not doing a very good job taking care of you today, am I?”

  “You started off very well.” Her cheeks turned pink as she smiled at him. “But I must admit it’s gone downhill since then. I wish you would talk to me.”

  He knew she was right. As much as he hated to drag up the past, the encounter with his grandfather had proven that he had not escaped it as much as he’d thought.

  “I will,” he promised. “But let’s get back to my lodging first.”

  He slowed his pace, holding her hand in his as they walked along the path beside the river. The water swirled, sparkling in the morning sun, and although he kept a wary eye out for usan vines and other dangers, he found himself relaxing. As much as he resented being tied to Pardor, being here had its benefits. But the most important benefit was the small female walking so trustingly beside him.

  Instead of making the turn off to the landing pad, he continued along the path beside the river. He would return to the ship later to gather some of his belongings, but there was no reason to make Hanna walk the extra distance.

  The jungle came closer until only the thin path separated it from the edge of the water. Hanna’s steps slowed as she exclaimed in wonder over various plants. Her enthusiastic curiosity delighted him until she reached for a pitchat plant.

  “No!” He snatched her hand back before she could touch the delicate silver blossoms.

  “What’s the matter?” She looked at him in shock.

  “The pitchat is very poisonous.”

  “I wasn’t going to eat it.”

  “Not just to the stomach. The oils in the flower petals will cause your skin to bubble and blister.” And eventually melt away, but he didn’t mention that part.

  The color drained from her already pale skin. “I should have thought of that. Even on Earth, some plants are toxic. Just because it’s pretty doesn’t mean it’s safe.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Will you teach me?” she asked eagerly, and he didn’t have the heart to deny her.

  Their steps slowed even more as she bombarded him with questions about almost everything they passed. He hadn’t thought about his surroundings in a long time, but he found that he remembered more of his lessons—his grandfather’s lessons—then he expected.

  “So many of them are dangerous,” she said sadly.

  “Pardor is a dangerous place.” His chest ached as he agreed. It was no place for a fragile human.

  “Is there anything that’s just pretty?”

  “A saachi flower,” he said softly as she looked up at him.

  “Can I see one?”

  He pointed up at one of the towering trunks. “They grow in the very tops of the trees. It’s a hard climb to get there.” She looked so disappointed that he couldn’t resist. “Perhaps one day I can take you there. Before we leave.”

  Her lashes dropped, veiling the deep saachi blue of her eyes.

  “And what then?”

  He would take her to Sherae and make sure that she was safe, and then he would take on as many contracts as he could, putting the credits aside for her, until the sickness overcame him. But this time he would not return to Pardor.

  “We’ll see the sunrise from up there,” he said, willfully misunderstanding her question. To his relief, the path opened up again and his house was waiting. Hanna’s eyes widened.

  “This is very different from your grandfather’s house.”

  Exactly. He had constructed the modern glass and steel building in open defiance of Pardorian tradition. They had turned their back on him, and he had chosen to turn his back on their ways. His house rose from the boulders along the riverbank on heavy metal legs—legs he had to recoat every time he returned to avoid the jungle eating them away. A sharply angled prow projected out over the river, while a corresponding metal deck at the rear cut into the jungle.

  “It’s amazing,” Hanna said softly.

  “And not at all Pardorian.”

  “I don’t know. It’s definitely different, but the glass reflects the colors of the water and the leaves. And the legs are like tree trunks.”

  Shocked at her appraisal, he took another look. He had built it so defiantly that he never really thought about it anymore, but now he could see the truth of her words. It was not a traditional Pardorian village cabin, but somehow it looked as if it belonged.

  As he led her inside, he realized that even here, he had unconsciously followed the pattern of his grandfather’s house. The large, open living area, the bedrooms tucked away to one side, even the bathing room—the materials might be different, but the feeling was the same. Fuck. He couldn’t get away from who he was.

  But somehow, watching Hanna dart around delightedly, stroking a cushion and admiring the view of the river, his exile did not s
eem as harsh as it usually did. And she looked so right here in his home, her pale skin gleaming and her long red curls warming the sterile surroundings. Only the heavy black of his shirt looked out of place.

  “Shall we find you something else to wear? Unless you’d rather be naked?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Why don’t we start with clothes?”

  He hunted around until he found some of the leftover barkat cloth he had used to make curtains. Woven out of fibers from the barkat vine, it was soft, lightweight, and slightly sheer.

  “That’s only a little better than being naked,” she teased when he held it up and the sun shone through the thin cloth. “But the colors are so pretty. Is that natural?”

  “Yes, it is an undyed fabric.”

  “I think I can make it into a kind of sarong. But maybe shower first?”

  He led the way to the bathing room, already anticipating her delight. Like all the rooms, it faced the river, but it projected out over a small sheltered cove. The floor was translucent glass, and it seemed as if the water was actually flowing across the floor. Sparkling glass tiles formed a curved wall behind the bathing pool and the adjoining shower. He went to start the shower, and when he turned around, his shirt was on the floor. Hanna stood there naked, her slender body glowing and her cheeks flushed pink. As he stared at her, too awestruck by her beauty to speak, the pink spread down her neck and reached her luscious little breasts. Her lashes dropped to cover her eyes, and he recognized the gesture as one she made when she was nervous. Before he could reassure her, she took another step toward him.

  “Will you shower with me?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hanna’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, as she lifted her eyes and looked at him. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes, and he knew how much courage it had taken for her to ask him. How could he, even for a moment, let her doubt his commitment to her?

  He knew their time together couldn’t last. He couldn’t subject her to either the dangers of the jungle or the different but equally vicious dangers of his profession. He had to take her to where she would be safe even though it would kill him to do so. But for right now, she was here, and she needed him, and he could have no more prevented himself from going to her than he could have prevented his heart from beating.

  He crossed the distance between them in two strides and lifted her up into his arms, groaning as the sweet, damp heat of her naked cunt settled against his stomach. Her legs went around his waist as she reached up and put her arms around his neck, giving him a shy smile.

  “You don’t mind showering together?”

  “I can think of nothing I would enjoy more,” he said sincerely as he carried her over to the water now streaming from the overhead showerhead.

  For a moment, he was content just to hold her, to feel their bodies pressed together as the water poured down over them.

  “Mmm, this is nice. Like being under a waterfall. Do you have waterfalls?” she asked, her voice dreamy. Then she peeped up at him. “I mean ones that aren’t out to kill you?”

  He laughed. “Perhaps I have been a little insistent on that point. But Pardor is a dangerous place, and I couldn’t stand it if you got hurt.”

  Her eyes darkened to deep-blue pools, and her little pink lips parted. Half afraid of what she was going to say, he hurried on. “There is a waterfall not far from here. The path is dangerous—”

  “Of course,” she snorted.

  “—but the waterfall itself is safe enough. I could take you if you would like to go.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Does anyone else go there?”

  “Occasionally, perhaps. But we are a long way from the village, and I wouldn’t expect company. Why?”

  “Because if other people were going to show up, we couldn’t do this.” She slid her hand down his damp stomach and beneath his loincloth, firmly grasping his cock. Her eyes sparkled, delighted with her own daring, and he thrust involuntarily into her hand.

  “You have a very talented touch, saachi.”

  She blushed but nodded, then wiggled impatiently to get down. He reluctantly let her slide free, but to his shock, she kept going, dropping to her knees and removing his loincloth on the way.

  “Hanna…” Whatever he was about to say vanished as she took his cockhead in the tight warmth of her mouth. Just as when she had done this at the party, she hummed appreciatively, sending ripples of sensation up his cock and vibrating through his body.

  When she pulled back, he almost demanded that she return. But she didn’t move away. Instead, she looked up at him, her eyes wide and blue.

  “Will you…change back? Back to your true self?”

  “You don’t like the public form?” he asked, shocked. His skin color might be different, but in this form, he more closely resembled what he assumed a human male would look like.

  “No, no,” she said hastily. “You’re just as handsome like this, but…” She ducked her head. “I like you best the other way. The way you were on the ship when it was just the two of us.”

  His chest ached. Other than when he was alone on Pardor, he never assumed his true appearance. Somehow, he had come to think of it as lesser, yet here was his woman, his mate, and she was not only accepting but encouraging the side of him that he had tried so hard to banish. Unable to speak, he shifted, and she gave him a happy smile before once again taking him in her mouth. The already intimate act took on a new level of meaning as she used her tongue to explore each of the branching veins, to lick and suck, making little moans of appreciation.

  As lost as he was in her wonderful mouth, this wasn’t what he wanted—what he needed—right now. He needed to be inside her.

  She frowned as he lifted her free, her mouth clinging to his cock until the last possible moment. He ignored her low murmur of protest, spinning her around so that her hands could grasp the low wall. Supporting her with one hand under her stomach, he slid his other hand down to check her readiness. The slippery warmth that met his fingers came from her, not the shower.

  “Hold on,” he ordered, and as soon as her hands tightened on the wall, he shifted his grip to her hips, lifting them until they were aligned with his throbbing cock. As the liquid heat of her sweet little cunt closed around his tip, he almost hesitated. She looked so small compared to him. But then she pushed backward, and he was lost. With a roar, he plunged deep, the silken fist of her channel gripping him so tightly that he could hardly breathe. He could feel her tensing, feel her body already rising to a climax, but he couldn’t wait. He withdrew in a long delicious slide and thrust forward again. She tried to meet his strokes, urging him on with soft little cries, and he lost every remnant of control. He thrust wildly, overcome by the primal need to take his female, to brand himself on her, to fill her with his seed. Even knowing that he was barren, the thought of impregnating her threw him over into an endless, roaring climax, his body shaking as he buried himself completely in her. A distant part of his mind heard her cry out, felt her shuddering around him, but he was too lost in ecstasy to do more than cling to her.

  When he finally regained his senses, he withdrew slowly, watching sadly as the water washed the golden remnants of his seed from her swollen folds. As soon as she was clean, he gathered her in his arms and sank to the floor of the shower. She nestled against him, giving his chest a quick kiss before she smiled up at him.

  “I definitely like taking showers together.”

  “I seem to remember that we were together on the ship as well.”

  She attempted to give him an adorable scowl. “Not like that. You always resisted making love to me.”

  Her eyes dropped back to his chest, and she circled one of his nipples. “Why was that? Why wouldn’t you ever touch me unless the sickness was overtaking you?”

  “Because when it was strongest, I didn’t care about what was best. I only cared about what I wanted.”

  “And you wanted me?” She peeped up at him from under her lashes.r />
  “How did you ever doubt it?” His fingers went almost automatically to his mark on her neck. She shivered, and he saw her nipples tighten into rosy little peaks.

  “Is there something special about the bite?” She hesitated. “When you said mate, I thought you meant sex. But is there more to it?”

  “A Pardorian male bites a Pardorian female to initiate a bond between them,” he said reluctantly.

  “A mating bond?”

  “Yes.”

  Her attention returned to his chest, and they sat in silence until she finally asked, “This bond you’re talking about…it only occurs between Pardorians?”

  His chest ached again. How could he tell her that he was already bonded to her? That she was the only female he would ever want and that he would die without her? He couldn’t put that burden on her. He wasn’t a fit mate for a delicate female.

  “Only a Pardorian experiences the bond,” he said evasively. He saw her mouth droop and knew that she had interpreted his words the way he had intended—as if the bond was only possible between two Pardorians.

  “I see. What’s going to happen now?”

  “I cannot leave until my strength is returned. If I don’t keep eating the fresh fruits, I will succumb just as I did before. I’m afraid your trip to Sherae is going to be delayed.”

  “I don’t mind.” Solemn eyes stared up at him. “There’s nowhere else that I would rather be.”

  He closed his eyes in despair, fighting the urge to tell her how much he wanted her to stay with him forever.

  “If the fruits help you so much,” she continued after a minute, her voice determinedly cheerful, “why didn’t you want me to eat any of them? Are they poisonous?”

  “That’s not it. We believe that it is the essence of the planet that gives us our abilities.”

  Her eyes widened. “But that would be wonderful—to be able to change like you can.”

  “You’re forgetting the price that must be paid. Once you eat from the riches of Pardor, you can never go without them again. You would be chained to this planet just as I am.”