That’s okay, I tell myself. Most of the aliens have tails. It’s okay. It just means he’s not human. Which…I could have guessed that anyhow. This alien is bigger than most humans. Even seated, he and I are practically eye to eye. Even if we were of a height, his bulk is something else entirely. He’s broader than I could have imagined, and for a brief, silly moment, I think Bethiah’s gotten me a great big, chubby man. I like the thought. A nice, big, soft alien with a gentle heart.
Please, oh please, I think. Be nice. Be soft.
I pull the bow off his head, and notice that the shroud on his face is a sack, almost like a pillowcase. He twitches when my fingers move to the edge of it, and I pull it off before I can lose my nerve.
The sight that greets me is terrifying.
It’s an alien all right, one with big, triangular ears and gray facial tufts. He’s got thick gray hair that looks like a lion’s mane and tufts down over his neck in a thick down. His eyes are catlike and while his face isn’t quite a muzzle, it’s definitely not human. He bares teeth that are sharp and pointed and looks around, dizzy.
This is a nightmare.
This is my praxiian neighbor. The one that’s been harassing me.
With a choked scream, I grab the pillowcase and throw it back over his head again. I back up several steps, heart pounding, and stare at the monstrous, shrouded alien in the chair.
He’s not soft.
I’ve seen him from a distance before. All that bulk? That’s muscle. The tail twitching under the shroud is long and fluffy and yet somehow he manages to be menacing despite it. Those shoulders are powerful enough to lift a car—and squash a human in no time flat. And he’s here to marry me.
I put my hands to my pigtails, trying to process this utter disaster. I asked for a nice friendly man to be kidnapped to be my husband…and instead I got the very man I was trying to avoid.
I want a damn refund.
7
NASSAKTH
Right away, I know I have a problem.
It was bad enough approaching Kim’s farm trussed up in the wraps the bounty hunter insisted upon. Kim’s house is surrounded by leagues and leagues of noli fern, a blooming plant which is an aphrodisiac to only one particular race—mine. It is endurable but pleasant as long as the plants are healthy and strong, but when they die, they shed pollen and it drives my people’s already robust libido into overdrive.
Inside Kim’s house? I smell pollen. I smell pollen everywhere, and when she rips off the head covering, I catch a glimpse of the colorful noli flowers. My body, already tense with excitement, is aching with arousal a moment later. My cock hardens, pushing against the front of my tight trou, and I let out a low rumble of frustration when she slaps the hood back on my head.
I can hear her panting, can smell her nervousness.
“W-what are you doing here?” she cries. “Where’s the other man?”
“What other man?” She is expecting someone else? The primal praxiian side of me flares with jealousy. I will challenge him. I will challenge him and rip his throat out if he thinks he gets Kim to himself—
“The man that was supposed to be coming here tonight,” Kim says, panicked. “My…friend was supposed to be dropping him off!”
I calm when I realize she means me. She just didn’t realize that the bounty hunter—Bethiah—would be bringing me specifically. Excellent. I loll my head, pretending to be dazed. “Where am I?”
“Um. Um.” I can practically feel her panic. “You’re in my kitchen. Just…stay calm. I’m sure this is all a mistake.”
“Someone hit me over the head,” I add. “Why did they bring me here? What is this all about?” My ears twitch under the hood, and I try to shake it off. “Can you get this thing off of me?”
“Sorry,” she yelps, and in the next moment, the hood rips off. My hands are still tied behind my back—loosely, since I was a volunteer—and my body swaddled in fabric. Once the hood comes off, I blink exaggeratedly and try to focus on Kim.
Her face is pale and utterly frantic. Her strange head-fur is tied up in two knots atop her head, and it almost looks like ears. Perhaps this is a courting ritual of her people and she wears it to entice a mate. I study her appreciatively, at her solid, strong body as she paces.
“This is a mistake,” she says, walking back and forth in the small living area of her house.
“What is?”
“You—you’re here because I’m supposed to get a husband—”
Surely it cannot be this easy? “I accept.”
Kim freezes in place, a look of horror on her face. “You what?”
Uh oh. “What?” I echo, and blink slowly again as if I am dazed. All right, I must not seem too eager just yet. It will make her suspicious.
Her shoulders relax. She crosses her arms over her chest. “This is a mistake,” she says again.
My pride is wounded. Is it truly that horrifying to have me show up as a mate? Isn’t this what she wanted? I can be kind, I remind myself. I can be what she needs. I twist against the bonds in my arms. “Can you free me?”
“Oh, of course.” She hurries over to my side, and instead of unwrapping me, she heads to her kitchen. She returns a moment later and helps me untangle my bound hands from the body-wrap…and then promptly snaps a pair of stun-cuffs around my wrists.
I jerk in surprise. The little human worked the cord of the stun-cuffs through the rungs of the chair. It’s a brave and ballsy move…and utterly useless, because I can splinter this tiny, pathetic chair with a mere stretch of my arms.
But…I’m proud of her. She’s clearly terrified, but she’s not backing down. Good. It makes me want her even more, and I start purring, my tail flicking back and forth.
Kim backs away from me with a cautious look. “I’m sorry to do that.”
“Do what you must to feel safe,” I say, fascinated with the way she moves. The noli flowers are really getting to me, and I take in a deep breath, floating on a sea of arousal. “So you will not free me?”
“I can’t.” She wrings her hands. “Oh, this is such a mess. I knew I should have clarified things with Bethiah, and now you know where I live and—”
“I already knew where you lived,” I point out, purring.
“Of course you did.” Her temper flares. “You…you violated my door.”
Violated? I marked it. I declared her my territory. Warned any other praxiian in the area that she is mine. But just thinking about marking my territory makes my cock ache even more, and I shift uncomfortably in the small chair.
“Are you uncomfortable?” She bites her lip and hurries forward, studying me. “I can’t free you, but can I get you anything? Until I decide what to do with you?”
I twist in the annoying wraps. “Hot. Get these off me.”
“Right. Sure.” She pulls the wraps free and gathers them in her arms. The moment she does, her hand brushes over my arm and my hips arch of their own accord.
Kim goes still, staring at my lap.
I look down. My cock is explicitly outlined against my trou, the fabric so tight that even the mushroom-shaped head is detailed as it rests against my thigh. I’m fully engorged, and there’s a wet spot on the fabric where my seed has leaked.