Married to the Alien Cowboy (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides, #1)

by Ursa Dax

“They would not all be my women,” he said awkwardly. “But one could be mine. And the others could live with us if they so chose. I have space.” “You have space inside your skull is what you have,” Zohro muttered.

“Two arms,” Fallon said brightly. “That is a very good number!”

Holy hills of Terra. That was the kind of cock that would either make a girl fall to her knees and thank her lucky stars… Or say her fucking prayers.

I wasn’t spying now, but hey, a girl needed to know what she was in for! My husband was packing what could easily be considered a murder weapon in most galactic jurisdictions, and I figured it was just plain irresponsible not to try to get a better look now.

At this point I’d consent to a tail amputation if it meant I got to keep her.

“I also have a wagon,” he added in a sudden rush. “Just… So you know.” “Oh! Well… Good! I love wagons!” I’d never been on a wagon in my entire fucking life.

I wasn’t exactly a prize, here. I was a boring, average human with a “halfway-decent” face, debt to my name, and a target on my back. Silar was a big, strong, golden-skinned cowboy with livestock and a house and a career. And a wagon! Couldn’t forget the wagon. He could probably do a hell of a lot better than me.

I would do it. I was his wife now and wives were supposed to poke and prod, help and heal, and if Silar didn’t like it then too fucking bad because he’d married a human woman and we were one hell of a stubborn breed.

I wondered if humans only ever did the kiss ritual at weddings. I did not see how we could have another wedding so that I could repeat the experience. But maybe they also did the kiss thing at other important ceremonies, like funerals. I found myself rather foolishly hoping that someone might die soon so that I could find out. Maybe Zohro. No one would miss him. It would be worth it.

This part of Cherry had not been hard before this morning. I would have noticed. She’d been submerged up to her chest in that cold water and now the ends of her udders were about to fall off and it was all my fault.

I had no experience with females, but even I knew that a male was supposed to erupt inside her, not thrusting foolishly against her, soaking his clothing just because she’d been kind enough to let him touch his unworthy tongue to hers.

Oh, God. How stupid was I? This was even worse than borrowing money from the mob. At least the worst outcome of that scenario only ended up with me being dead. The outcome of this scenario, of falling for Silar and hoping for my unrequited feelings to be returned… That would end in heartbreak. Which was a million fucking times worse.

Which in turn meant I probably went a teensy bit overboard. I was pretty sure that Silar was now a stupefied combination of confused by my enthusiasm for mucking stalls, pulling weeds, and milking alien cows, and quietly impressed by his wife’s absolute balls-to-the-walls energy.

I was glad to have the work on the ranch to keep me busy and wear out my body so much. Otherwise, I might actually have to deal with the fact that I seemed to be falling rather fucking rapidly for a husband who, apart from touching my boobs and coming in his pants that one time, seemed perfectly content to keep his distance from me.

“What do the teerz mean, and how do I heal them?”

“Are you telling me that you almost strangled another man because… because he indirectly almost harmed me?” “Yes.” Holy shit. That… should not have been so hot to me.

“So,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “I see that you and Silar both subscribe to the Doctrine of Eternal Shirtlessness.” Fallon’s smile vanished, a fiercely thoughtful look coming over his features. His pale blond brows furrowed over his eyes. “The Doctrine of Eternal… That last part did not translate. I do not think I read about this in the book.” He leaned forward in earnest. “Please tell me if this is a belief system my future wife adheres to. I would like to honour it.”

Cherry was even more perversely imaginative than I was. I am the luckiest male alive.

“You mean my cock tail?” “Your… your cock tail?” I repeated, still gaping. “Cocktail means something very different where I come from.”

It’s OK. I can work with this. A tiny dick tail is definitely better than a tentacle.

“Do I have a teeny, tiny tail dangling from my nether regions? Um, no. Absolutely not. You just had your entire head between my legs! Didn’t you notice there was no tail there?”

“All I care about is that, if you are running, I’m the one you run to.”

“Run your way down any road you wish to, Cherry. But I’ll always be the one standing there at the end of it.”