Obsession

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Appropriately handled meant turned over to the Daedalus, the department within the DOD that handled all alien brouhaha and operated out of several government buildings, mainly good ol’ Area 51.

I wanted to eat Zombro.

“That’s an alien. I’m an alien. We’re aliens. Aliens everywhere, actually, which is why we have to leave. I’m sure someone has called the police by now.”

“Are you done acting like a psychotic, cracked-out Muppet baby?”

Then in one fluid, unbelievably quick motion, he rolled off and stood. Jesus, the guy was part alien, part human, and part ninja.

At least I now knew that the male species were asses no matter what planet they hailed from.

“The fucking world better be ending,” was the way he answered the phone.

“I can promise you that sex with me won’t be about long, soft pets or whispered words. I like it rough and raw, but your pleasure will always come first. Every single time.”

I was fighting for Serena. She meant everything to me. Knowing that, fully understanding what that meant, I was on a motherfucking warpath.

Serena was on her feet, her face pale, the bruises standing out in stark contrast, but she was alive. And I loved her.

The words, they came out easier than I ever thought they would. “I love you.”