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I turn. “You what?”
“You,” he manages, panting. “I like you. Or…I did.” He shakes his head… “So…cruel…”
I race back to his side. He LIKES me? The same guy that’s been harassing me for weeks likes me? But…but…
I stare at the enormous erection and the wet pants, and I wring my hands. Did I really do this to him? With the flowers? He truly thinks I’m torturing him to get revenge? And he LIKES me? “I tossed out the flowers! I’m not doing this on purpose!”
“Won’t…help…now…”
“What do I do?” I twist my hands anxiously. He looks so awful. Did I think I could kill him? Right now I’m getting all freaked out just seeing him in pain. I can’t believe I poisoned him with an aphrodisiac.
That one’s gonna be hard to explain to the local authorities.
“How do I help?” I ask, hovering nervously.
“Touch me.”
“I’m not going to do that!”
His eyes open and he stares at me. His pupils are enormous, his gaze glassy and unfocused. “Let me touch you, then. Let me lick you. I’ll lick you so good, Kim.”
“I’m not doing that, either!”
Did I think having my kidnapped neighbor in my living room was an impossible problem? It’s like the universe is messing with me. Because now I have a big, horny kidnapped neighbor…
And I can’t stop thinking about the way he licked my palm.
11
KIM
I slap a wet towel over the praxiian’s brow, ignoring his fevered panting and begging for release. I wet another towel and gently drape it over his straining groin.
“Touch me, Kim,” he mutters. “Touch me.”
I look at the clock, wondering how long this will go on. It’s been hours since I woke up to realize that I’d “poisoned” my neighbor with the noli. The sun is just about to come up, and he seems as fevered and overheated as ever. I’ve been trying to help ease things with wet towels, and I opened all the windows in the house, hoping a breeze would carry the scent away, but I’m not sure it’s doing any good. My fields are filled with more noli, after all.
I’ve called Bethiah all night, too, but it’s clear she’s not willing to pick up her package. I’m stuck with this big, horny cat and I have to figure out what to do with him.
It’s clear that I can’t let him go. If I do, I suspect he’ll run to the local authorities, tell them how I tortured and poisoned him after I kidnapped him, and I’ll be tossed into some alien prison. I shudder at the thought. I absolutely cannot go to prison. I’ve seen how free humans are treated; I can’t imagine how bad it’d be to be a human prisoner in an alien jail.
I’m also pretty sure I can’t kill him. Just seeing him in pain and groaning is enough to twist my heart. He’s so very miserable, and every time his hips flex, he cries out, as if he’s in pain. It makes me feel SO damn guilty.
I mean, sure, he’s been threatening me, but I’m not sure I’m made of the same cruel material he is. I can’t stand to see another living being suffer, even this jerk.
Also, I’m really, really confused.
He’s left slaughtered animals on my porch…but he says he likes me? I look over at his towel-covered brow. His mouth is open, panting, the tip of his tongue curled. I suddenly want to grab him by the facial tufts and shout at him. Why do you like me? I wonder silently. What did you mean?
“Kim,” he mutters, tossing his head so violently he flings the wet towel aside. “Kim.”
“Right here. Haven’t gone anywhere.”
“Brushed…tail…for you…”
I calmly get up and retrieve the towel, then wet it again and drop it on his brow. “What does that mean?”
“All…for…you…”
I grit my teeth. “Seriously, either you start telling me what this means or I’m not going to give you any more water.”
“Lick you,” he demands, panting. “Let me lick you.”
“No—”
“Won’t tell anyone. Just let me touch you.” He looks over at me with bright eyes, but are they a bit clearer than before? It’s so hard to tell.
I frown at him. “You can lick me if you give me answers.”
“Anything…”
I present him with the back of my hand. “Go wild.”
I’m not sure what I expected, but he falls upon it ravenously, licking and stroking with his tongue, moaning as if he’s never been more turned on in his life by some knuckles. And…okay, it’s hard for me not to get affected. He drags his tongue over my skin in such a way that it’s difficult to ignore.
But…I don’t want to have sex with him. I don’t want any sex. I just want him to go away.
So…answers. I pull my hand away and he cries out. “You can lick it again if you tell me what’s going on.”
