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She fell onto her back, yellow cup in hand, and whispered, “Iocane powder. Inconceivable,” before drifting to sleep…or possibly to death.
“How about Wilson? You aren’t exactly a volleyball, but we’ll ignore that.”
Don’t look back. They always die whenever they look back. If you look back, you’re gonna trip on something and fall, and it’ll get you.
This guy might look like a god, but he had the personality of a sea urchin.
“Yeah. I get it. This place sucks. What’s happening to you guys sucks. And even though they’re bastards and should be stampeded Jumanji style, I understand why they did it. Desperation. And the worst part of all?” she practically shouted before laughing again. “They succeeded. It doesn’t make it right, but they found what they were looking for. Wow, Auzzy. What a fucking nightmare for humans, and what a fucking blessing for you lot.”
Alex’s breath caught in her throat, and her sex clenched. She could feel something large and hard pressing into her back. “This is why,” he breathed into her hair. “Touching may be normal for you, but it isn’t for me.”
“Is this like a Spock battles Kirk in the kal-if-fee situation? Like, two men fight over lady?” she said, using her best Tarzan want woman voice.
She attempted her best impression of a sloth, not moving or breathing in the hope he wouldn’t get scared away from speaking. Don’t move! He can’t see us if we don’t move, Sam Neill’s voice echoed through her mind.
She lowered her lips and breathed hot air onto the head of his shaft, making him curse. In an almost unrecognizable voice, he rumbled, “Alejandra, this isn’t done.” She grinned and took the tip of him into her mouth.
As if his soul recognized he was lost for words, a purr suddenly rumbled through his chest.
“I don’t know about you,” Meg whispered while eying the savage opponent who’d flipped his own board, “but this ridiculousness is making my weakness for himbos flare up real bad.”
Bonding, as it turned out, included large quantities of alcohol, loud, off-key singing, and the full spectrum of emotion.
Needed as a soldier, as a brother, as a guard, sometimes as a male, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling wanted.
As the first hints of alcohol hit his system and relaxed his muscles, he understood why some people enjoyed doing nothing. Nothing, if done with the right person, was like a balm for the soul.
Bet if I touched him, he’d be slippery.
They were here together now. She was his, and he was hers. And she was greedy. She might not be able to keep him forever, but she could have this perfect day. She’d regret it more if she didn’t give herself to him now than if she’d held back for the sake of her heart. A part of it was already his anyway.
No one would ever compare to Auzed. She was sure of it. He’d ruined her for all other men.
“I’m yours,” she whispered, her chest so full it could explode. “And you’re mine.”
