A small stockpile of large cans, enough to feed an armada, lines the shelf near my head. I have no idea if this is what he wants, but I can’t just keep him waiting all day—what if he decides to force his way in again?
I snatch up a likely-looking can from the shelf… then hesitate. No way am I letting this guy get close enough to grab me; that’s the oldest trick in the book.
I shove the door open, pitch the can at him, then slam it shut, all as fast as I can. I hear a muffled curse from the other side.
When I peek back out, he’s scowling down at the can as if it has personally offended him. As if it wasn’t me who just hurled it right at his face.
That, and the fact that he hasn’t tried to break down the door wielding that huge-ass blade like a maniac from a slasher movie… That’s a good sign. Maybe I’ve misread the situation.
Especially with the tantalizing smells wafting from his cooking. I hate to admit that it smells delicious. My traitorous stomach rumbles loudly. When was the last time I ate, anyway? My stomach feels incredibly hollow, and now that it’s smelled food, it cramps terribly.
Across the room, Sutek proceeds to dump a sticky mess of purple slugs from the can into a steaming pot. They plop and squelch as they hit the broth, sending up little splashes. He stirs the pot before moving on to chopping up more ingredients with smooth, precise strokes. I can’t help but watch the play of muscles under his skin as he works the wickedly sharp cleaver. Perhaps I should be more concerned about how comfortable he is wielding that deadly blade, but the aroma of whatever he’s cooking is making it hard to focus on anything else.
“You are human, yes?” He asks, glancing at me across the room. He doesn’t seem perturbed that I’ve blatantly hidden myself in his pantry at all. Because that’s totally something a normal person does.
I lick my lips, mouth watering. “Yes. What… what are you cooking?”
“This is the last of my frozen meat reserves,” he explains, dicing up glistening purple flesh. He works it off the bone with quick, efficient motions. “The medical pod recommended protein to help with your recovery. I hope it is to your liking. I do not often cook, and unfortunately our NutriSynth has not been calibrated yet.”
I keep my eyes on him but try not to pay too much attention to how easily he handles such a dangerous blade—it’s clear this guy is some sort of professional chef. I mean, how else do you learn to handle blades like that?
I inch my way out of the pantry. I think I’ve misunderstood this situation entirely. This guy probably helped me after the crash. I’m not locked up in some cage like the dragon guy had me in. If he’s telling the truth, he even took care of me while I was unconscious. Heck, he’s cooking me a meal! Maybe I can trust him after all.
I shake off that thought. Men, universe over, have proven themselves to be untrustworthy.
Still, I’m freaking starving. I want that food, even if it bears the name ‘slugs.’
When he glances up, I offer him a tentative smile.
“It smells amazing, thank you. I’m sorry I panicked. I’m Elana, by the way.”
He pauses in his work, holding my gaze for a moment. Something about his intense focus makes my cheeks flush with heat. I have to drag my eyes away from his broad shoulders and muscular chest clearly outlined by his snug shirt. His gaze reminds me all too much of a lover’s caress. Warmth blossoms low in my stomach, and my nipples harden to aching points. It’s just embarrassment, I tell myself. I’m not attracted to this red alien at all... Nope, not one bit.
He’s just an extremely muscular, handsome male who can cook…
“I am Sutek,” he rumbles at last.
I repeat the name in my head. Sutek. It suits him—strong, commanding, mysterious. The shivers running down my spine are just leftover fear, I insist. I’m absolutely not fantasizing about being alone with this powerful alien warrior...
He looks up at me and gives me a dazzling smile. It’s so potent that it takes the breath from my lungs.
“Welcome to the Alien Hotel.”
ChapterFour
ELANA
Idevour the food as if it’s about to be taken from me. Never again will I complain about what’s for dinner. Heck, I’m even eating slugs and enjoying them. Everything tastes amazing when you’re desperate enough.
“Do you truly enjoy it that much?” Sutek asks, one eyebrow raised skeptically as he watches me inhale my meal across the gleaming metal table.
With my mouth too full to answer and barely stopping to breathe, I moan my pleasure.
Sutek’s pupils dilate into dark pools, his gaze smoldering as he watches my every move with rapt fascination. I can feel the intensity of his focus like a physical caress. I’ve never received this kind of male attention back home; even my ex-boyfriend dismissed my curves as too plump and my community college degree as too basic.
Now hyper-aware of Sutek’s imposing presence, I allow my gaze to trace the contours of his powerful frame. His thin shirt clings to every ridge of muscle, the glittering thread catching the light and hinting at the sculpted physique beneath. As he leans forward on his elbows, the rolled-up sleeves strain around his bulging biceps and corded forearms.
My pulse flutters at this casual display of strength. He radiates strength, reliability, and safety. Yet beneath that solid exterior simmers an undercurrent of danger, something wild and untamed that warns me not to trust him fully. It prevents me from blurting out my experiences of the past few days. I mean, can I trust him at all? I know nothing about him or his species.
