Page 15 of Clonely You

“Of course not.”

We both sit in the vehicle, silent. I don’t get out yet, because it doesn’t feel as if our conversation is done. There’s more that needs to be said. It practically hangs in the air between us.

“I had a wonderful time,” Aithar blurts out, breaking the quiet.

That makes me smile. “You did? We didn’t do anything much.”

“I got to spend time in your presence. That makes it a wonderful day.” There’s such sincerity on his face that I don’t doubt him. To him, being with me for dinner made it great.

I don’t know how to process that. I’ve dated guys in the past where they made it seem like if I asked for anything, I was high maintenance. If I made it clear that I wasn’t putting out, I was the problem. Men like to think that if they feed you, they get time between your thighs. It’s strange to have Aithar be so happy to have the most innocent, benign dinner with me.

He’s too good to be true. “Are you always like this?”

The alien man’s smile turns reluctant, almost crestfallen. “I am afraid so. I have said too much?”

I laugh. “I don’t understand how someone as devoted as you can’t find a woman.”

His eyes widen, as if he’s surprised at my comment. “I am a’ani.”

“So? You’re a nice guy. You’re handsome and polite and very sweet. I know the ladies here have been through some shit—we all have—but I’ve also seen a lot of them have married. Why not you?”

He shakes his head. “A’ani are not prized. Not by anyone.”

“Then they’re all insane.” I snort. Impulsively, I add, “Since it was a date, you can kiss me.”

I’ve shocked him. It’s clear from the way he stiffens, his eyes going wide, that he didn’t expect that. Heck, I didn’t expect that to come from me, either. It’s not that I’m dying of lust for him. I hate that someone as thoughtful and kind and obviously wanting love can’t find it. I can’t be that person for him, but maybe I can rebuild his confidence a little.

“I mean it,” I say when he remains silent. “You can go home and rub it in everyone’s face that you kissed the hell out of me. That it was a real date.”

“A real date. Yes.” His ears flick, and I realize for the first time that they’re pointed, ever so slightly, like an elf’s ears. That’s cute and I find myself drawn to him even more. “Are you certain?”

“I am.” I indicate he should lean forward. “Have you ever kissed before?”

“Never.” He moves close, his nose nearly brushing mine, and he smells good. Like soap and fabric and male skin. It’s a combination I haven’t experienced in a while. Since I last dated, actually. It makes me want to grab him by the collar of hisuniform and bury my face against his neck, just to breathe in the unique scent of a warm, appealing guy.

“Then I’ll be gentle with you,” I tell him, and slant my lips over his.

It doesn’t start out as a great kiss. I can feel Aithar stiffen against me, like a startled animal. His mouth is firm under mine, and I realize he doesn’t know what to do.

“Relax,” I whisper. “Go with what feels natural.”

He makes a hungry sound and his hand goes to my hair, holding the back of my head. He hesitates, then grasps me firmly, his lips parting when I kiss him gently. It takes a few kisses before he relaxes enough to enjoy himself, and his mouth is open under mine, ravenous. I cede control of the kiss as he gains confidence, and he devours me, his lips dragging over mine repeatedly as he kisses the absolute hell out of me. Then we add tongue, and he makes another startled sound before diving in with gusto. I’ve never been kissed so hard or so thoroughly, and by the time we pull apart, I’m panting and dazed. My lips throb and heat pulses all through my body.

God, am I crazy in that I want to do that again? Right away?

Aithar nips my lower lip and pulls back, his mouth flushed, and he’s never looked sexier—or more like just Aithar—in this moment. “You are incredible.”

I lick my lips, tasting him as I straighten. I think about what he said yesterday, how he was disappointed that I didn’t want to use him for sex. “I like kissing you.”

“I love kissing you, too.” His pupils are blown, his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them, and that breathless sound he makes sends curls of heat through my body.

“I don’t want a relationship, and that hasn’t changed…but I miss kissing and making out. Want to practice with me for a while?”

He groans. “More than anything. When?”

“Tomorrow night.” Provided I don’t lose my nerve or change my mind in the light of day.

The expression on his face is resolute, as if I’ve given him an earth-shattering task. “I’ll be here at dusk. You can count on me.”

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