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“No, but I’ll wish I was dead.”
“Why?”
Heriot looked uncomfortable. He sat down on the ledge of the wall that was basically a brick bench and shrugged off his jacket, which landed with a thunk on the soil. Then he reached behind and pulled his black Henley off over his head, exposing his entire torso to her.
Her eyes widened.
It was sheer torture to keep her eyes off his erection, but it was equally as hard to not stare at his strong jawline and luxurious beard. His biceps. The acres of pearl-white defined muscles and trim hips. Basically, she was sitting next to a real-life sculpture of a Greek athlete from the first Olympics. His whole torso was a work of art. She wanted to run her palms over every single muscle and dip, mapping out his skin for future reference. She fisted her hands in her lap, forcing herself not to reach out and inappropriately run her fingers through his thick hair.
He covered his flaming erection with the bunched fabric of his Henley, which she appreciated because it was impossible to have a serious conversation with a man whose red penis was pointing at the sky.
He turned so that she could easily see the red that was flushing over his torso. “The parts of my body that are turning red are inflamed and painful,” he gritted. “The clothing rubbing against it makes it more inflamed. And the urge to mate is extreme. This will only grow stronger and stronger until I eventually lose all control.”
“Uh oh.” Lose control? What exactly did that mean? She frowned and sat down next to him, wanting to understand. “Why are you like this?” She gestured to his groin. “Is it triggered just by being on Earth?”
He lifted his head and met her gaze, his chest rising and falling with great breaths, his eyes blazing with need. “You do this to me,” he rasped.
“Me?”
He reached out and cupped her neck and leaned in, his lips brushing against hers with all the twitchy gentleness of a man who could barely restrain himself. Butterflies swooped in her belly and melted into a fiery pit of passion. Her core clenched at the feel of those kissable lips and that bossy palm leading the way.
Then he broke off and looked into her eyes. “The moment I saw you,” he told her, “the transformation began because I desired you above all other females.”
“Me?” she repeated, trying to process what this Adonis had just said. This alien who was Thor without his hammer. “You desiredme?”
The girl with unruly strawberry-blonde hair, who’d recently switched from thick glasses to contact lenses?
The girl who’d been in braces for millennia?
The girl all men saw as their best friend and never their sexy hot date?
This man with the bulging biceps and thighs as thick as tree trunks was literally in pain over how much he desired her? That massive erection he was sporting was all because of her and not some alien allergy?
No. Way.
Yeah, she’d started exercising for “real” six months ago and recently dropped twenty pounds. And yes, it seemed like lately she’d been getting more male attention. She did feel stronger and more fit than she ever had in her life. A bit like a baby butterfly breaking out of the chrysalis and spreading its wet wings. But still. Supermodel material, she was not.
“You,” he said fiercely, “are the most beautiful female I’ve ever seen.”
Her eyes watered and her nose started to sting. “Thank you,” she breathed. “I think you’re pretty amazing yourself.”
He grimaced.
His pain seemed to be getting worse before her eyes. “Heriot, how can I help you? What do you need?”
His hands shook as he let go of her and leaned back. “The only way to relieve this is for me to release my seed.”
“You mean…?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” She glanced down at the tent of fabric between his thighs.
He moaned. “I won’t force mate you. I would as soon put a blast through my own skull. I would die before I found relief with my mate without her consent.”
She nodded. But still, he was basically telling her he was going to be writhing in pain unless she had sex with him? And he was the only one who could stop T’Antor. Since T’Antor was also an alien, it didn’t matter if she alerted the police to his location. He’d probably just kill them. And with Heriot down for the count, T’Antor was running amok with no one to stop him. Heriot was Earth’s only chance at justice in this situation.
And to be truthful, helping him was no hardship.
