Page 56 of Alien Mercenary's Wife
Heat shot through her as her imagination went into overdrive… his hands slick with soap, the cramped confines of the shower stall, steam hiding them while they continued what they'd started in his bed.
"I was enjoying the view from here."
The words slipped out before she could stop them. When had she become someone who flirted? Who admitted to staring at naked alien men like some hormone-addled teenager?
His eyebrows rose. "Were you now?"
Before she could retreat behind professional distance, he moved toward her. Water dripped from his hair as he leaned over the bed, hands bracing on either side of her head. Close enough to kill. Close enough to kiss.
Water dripped onto her lips, tasting clean with a hint of him.
"T'Raal," she started, but he swallowed her words with his mouth.
The kiss was careful at first. Testing. When she responded, threading fingers through his damp hair, it turned hungry.
His skin radiated heat against hers, and his towel brushed her thigh, reminding her he was barely dressed while she lay naked under his sheets.
His tongue traced her lips, seeking entrance, and she gave without thinking. The kiss became possessive. Claiming. Her back arched, and she pressed closer even as water dripped onto her from his hair.
God, the man could kiss. Enough to make her forget her own name, as well as everything else.
When he pulled back, they were both breathing hard. His pupils had blown wide, only a thin ring of blue-green visible around the edges.
"If you keep looking at me like that," he said, voice rough, "I'm going to forget I have a ship to run."
She glanced down at the evidence of his arousal tenting the towel. The sight sent fresh heat pooling between her thighs. Made her want to reach out and touch him again, to feel the impressive alien anatomy that had kept her awake half the night.
"Maybe you should forget," she suggested, way breathier than she'd intended. "Just for a while."
Regret flickered across his features.
"Can't," he groaned, kissing her again quickly. "Crew expects their captain to actually show up for duty." He pressed another kiss to her lips, quick and almost apologetic. "But tonight..."
The promise in his eyes made her pulse spike. "Tonight?"
"Tonight, I'm all yours." His smile was pure masculine satisfaction… smug and knowing. "Take your time in the shower. The crew doesn't expect to see you until you're ready."
He straightened, moving toward the wardrobe. She watched him dress with the same appreciation she'd shown when he’d undressed. When he turned back, fully clothed, his expression had shifted. The captain was back, replacing the man who’d spent the night making her scream in pleasure.
"T'Raal." She said before he could reach the door.
He paused, hand on the control panel, looking over his shoulder at her. "Yeah?"
She wasn't sure what to say. Nothing seemed right for what had happened between them.
Instead, she settled for a simple truth. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"All of it." She gestured vaguely at the bed, the room, the safety of his ship. "Everything."
His expression softened. "Nothing to thank me for,kelarris."
"See you later," he said, and the door slid shut behind him.
She lay still for a moment, processing what had just happened. Not just the physical intimacy—though that had been spectacular—but everything else. How easy it felt. How she somehow fit here.
This was dangerous territory. More dangerous than the shit going on back home. This was getting attached when she knew better.
