Page 34 of Alien Jeopardy
I swallow hard, transfixed.
Holy hell, I had no idea you could use a screwdriver like that. Wait, it’s not a screwdriver. It’s some sort of Allen wrench, and my god, I should have been watching my alien partner the whole time.
I definitely didn’t know you could use an Allen wrench like that. The big muscles in his forearms bunch as he rotates the device with his middle finger and thumb, and my body starts screaming that I could be an Allen wrench, if he wanted.
I frown, tilting my head. Why in the world would aliens give us an Allen wrench to work with? Out of alllll the technology in the universe, that’s the one they use?
“Ell,” he repeats, and I drag my gaze away from the tiny muscles twitching on his lightly striped chest.
“Uh-huh, Rex, that’s my name.”
He grins at me, and I’m even more annoyed by the fact that I’m drawn to him in spite of being irritated that he didn’t want my help.
Sure, Imighthave gotten in the way more than I could have helped, but that doesn’t matter, does it?
My nose crinkles, and I huff out a breath.
“Ell,” he repeats, pointing to the bin of the wheelbarrow. “Ell,” he says again, tapping the side.
“Oh, ooooh,” I say on an exhale as realization dawns.
I climb over the side of the wheelbarrow basin, sitting on the thin perch across the sides where Rex is patting.
He grins at me enthusiastically, clearly pleased I’ve understood his directive, and unable to resist the infectiousness of it, I give him a thumbs-up.
His smile falls, something like horror flashing across his face, his tail twitching behind him like a mad cat’s.
Oops. I cringe, letting my hand fall numbly into my lap.
“Sorry,” I tell him, not wanting to piss him off, even though he just pissed me off. My hormones must really be in overdrive, ugh. “You did great.”
I even flutter my eyelashes a little as I smile up at him, trying to flirt my way out of the cringe.
Rex just frowns, then stomps to the front of the wheelbarrow, picking up the handles. I brace my hands against the sides, ignoring Lily and her partner’s cute little laughs behind me as he tugs me and the cart behind him.
It isn’t until he’s picked up a steady clip, moving quickly over the rough terrain but jostling me as little as possible, that it hits me that this isn’t a wheelbarrow at all.
It’s a rickshaw, and he’s fuckingmovingus.
He tucks his wings in tight to his body, which, in tandem with the weird drifting lanterns overhead, gives me the perfect view of all those glorious muscles.
Whew.
I nearly fan my face, but the wheel of the rickshaw hits a dip in the ground. Squeaking, I clamp my hands tighter as I nearly bounce off the narrow excuse for a seat.
My jaw’s clenched tight too, and the silver lining of this wild situation is that my sudden fear of being bounced off my seat has thankfully eclipsed my raging libido.
The immediate danger of bodily harm has outweighed the need for a good dicking down.
Chancing a glance over my shoulder at the starting line, I breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of Lucy and her alien still working together to complete their rickshaw.
Damn. As annoyed as I was, maybe I have to admit ole Sexy Rexy had the right of it—he knew exactly what he was doing and I would have been in the way.
I mentally pat myself on the back for my newfound maturity.
Mentally, because there is no way in hell I’m taking my iron grip off the cart. We’re putting the rickety in rickshaw.
“You can do it, Rex,” I yell what I’m hoping is an encouraging sound.
