Page 22 of My Big Fat Fake Alien

"Me and my shadow, walking down the avenue..."

Is he... is he actually singing and dancing around his mansion naked? The golden scales of his body catch the light as he practically skips into his kitchen. I hold my breath, willing my racing heart to quiet.

The clink of crystal and ice cubes echoes up to my hiding spot. He's fixing himself a drink like nothing's wrong. Maybe he didn't notice me watching him after all?

My muscles cramp from holding still. When he moves toward his living room, I take my chance. I drop silently to the floor and creep after him, keeping to the shadows.

Kirk settles into a leather recliner with his drink. "There. Nice and cozy."

Then he laughs - a dark, predatory sound that makes my skin prickle.

"You're thinking 'if I just keep very quiet he won't know I'm here,' right?"

"Oh shit," I whisper. My stomach drops through the floor.

Kirk rises from his chair, his scaled form gleaming in the low light. My heart hammers against my ribs as I back away.

"Looks like we're going to do this dance again, little bird." His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply.

Is he... is he smelling me like a bloodhound? My feet move before my brain catches up. I sprint for the front door, but Kirk appears in front of me with impossible speed. My breath catches in my throat.

"Why don't you take off that mask, sit down, and have a drink with me?" His voice carries that same commanding tone that made my knees weak at Area 51.

"Go to Hell." I pitch my voice low, trying to disguise it.

"Then would you prefer I call the NYPD and tell them you broke in and defaced my portrait?"

The threat stops me cold. Kirk's laugh echoes through the air.

"Why don't you put on some clothes?" I snap, trying to hide how his naked form affects me.

"Oh, does my nakedness bother you?" He stalks closer, backing me into a corner. His scales catch the light with each fluid movement. "It did not seem to trouble you earlier, when you were watching me."

"Shut up," I say, but the words sound hollow even to my own ears. My cheeks burn, and I can feel the heat spreading down my neck.

Kirk leans in, his golden eyes glinting with a predatory amusement. "I know you were touching yourself," he purrs, his voice low and dripping with satisfaction. "I can smell your pussy on your fingers."

My breath stops, and I turn my head away as he reaches for my hoodie. His fingers brush against the fabric, and I jerk back, but he’s relentless. He laughs, a deep, resonant sound that echoes in the space between us.

"Keep your secrets…for now," he says, his voice smooth and teasing. "But you won't be able to hide from me forever."

Before I can protest, his hands grip my waist, and I’m hauled up onto his shoulder like a sack of flour. His scales are cool against my skin, but the strength in his body is overwhelming. I squirm, but it’s useless—his grip is ironclad.

"Put me down, you overgrown gecko!" I snap, kicking my legs uselessly.

He doesn’t respond, just laughs again as he strides toward the bedroom. His hand comes down on my ass with a sharpsmack, and I gasp, the sound caught somewhere between outrage and something far more indecent. Another slap lands, and this time, I can’t stifle the moan that escapes me.

"Good girl," he rumbles. "You’re already so close, aren’t you?"

"Go to Hell," I mutter, but even I can hear the lack of conviction in my voice. My body betrays me, responding to his touch in ways that make my head spin. The ache between my legs is almost unbearable, and I bite my lip to keep from begging him to do more.

He carries me into the bedroom and unceremoniously dumps me onto the bed. I scramble to sit up, but he’s already climbing onto the mattress, his massive form looming over me. His eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, I can’t look away.

I twist my wrists against the strange, supple leather binding them behind my back, but the Reaper’s Lingerie holds firm. Every movement sends a thrill through me, the restraint both infuriating and exhilarating. My breath comes in short, sharp bursts as I squirm, my body hyper-aware of Kirk’s scaled form looming over me.

"Let's see if the legendary Nightbird can escape from Reaper's Lingerie," Kirk says, his voice dripping with amusement.

I glare up at him, though there’s no heat behind it. "This doesn’t count. You cheated. This thing’s… alien tech or something."

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