Page 7 of 20% Stud 80% Muffin (Alien Fated Mates #1)

7

I sucked the roof of my mouth, searching for moisture. It was drier than the Sahara. Holy shit, my head throbbed. I brought my hands up to remove my helmet. Only there was no helmet, just soft, silky fur.

What the hell?

“Coach, I can’t get my helmet off,” I murmured.

A soft purr answered me. “Geo.”

The low timbre of his voice soothed the wild parts of me.

“Geo, you had a fall.” A velvety thumb stroked my temple.

Pain racked my leg as I attempted to twist my body. “Shit, that hurts.” Sweat broke out across my forehead.

“Stay still. Let me help.”

“Makir?”

His gentle rumble settled me, cocooning me in its warm embrace. The beats of my heart were slow and syrupy.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m going to help with the pain, and then you can sleep.”

Am I hallucinating?

Something fluffy brushed over my forehead and gently sucked. The tingly sucking kisses spread down my leg, and a whisper of silk circled my ankle. Then darkness.

I dragged a knuckle over my eye and groaned. The remnants of a strange dream about a hockey game and a basket of purring kittens lingered as I woke.

“Ah, you’re awake.” A low, soothing voice, the loveliest I’d ever heard, came from slightly behind me. “I filled your container with the morning dew. You’re going to be very thirsty after your accident.”

Inch by inch, I propped myself up on one elbow. My body came alive with aches, and my sleeping bag crinkled and shifted beneath me. Makir passed me my water bottle and I gulped it down.

“What happened?” Something smelled delicious, like juniper and ginger snaps, and my mouth watered.

“Well, I believe we may have found the solution I was looking for to keep the enforcers’ hands warm.” Makir chuckled, dodging the question.

“Huh?”

Makir pointed to a line of glossy white pelts hanging in the early sun. They looked like beavers. Wow, he’d been busy last night. Then it came back to me—the squeal, Makir’s shout, my stumbling around…

“Did I fall?” I turned toward Makir, slopping water all over his shirt. “Hey, are you okay? Why did you yell out last night?”

“I’m fine, but you fell a long way.”

Makir’s tail skimmed over my ankle and arousal swamped my gut, heating my groin. What was happening ?

“And it felt even longer getting you over here.” He flexed his biceps, teasing.

Damn, he carried me all that way?

I sucked in my big belly and mentally scanned my body. Everything appeared intact for a guy who had essentially dropped from a second-story window. Although I was sore and scraped raw from the jagged concrete, my head was clear, and I could get on with my day.

Makir pointed to one of the white pelts. “They may look cute and cuddly now, but those things have sharp teeth.”

Makir’s ears twitched. I’d never noticed them before, but with his face curled toward me from above, his long mane parted and his velvety blue ear peeked out in the same place as mine. It had a small, pointed tip I longed to touch, just out of reach as he tipped back on his haunches.

“Hey.” I reached out to cover his hand with mine, the blue fur silky against my palm. “About last night…”

The small clearing where we’d stacked the lamar filled with the buzz of hoverbikes and as they quieted, Sisip shouted, “Makir! Geo!” Two other enforcers followed closely behind.

“Looks like we’ve been rescued.” Makir’s eyes met mine, and the silver shifted to lavender, then back again.

Something was different.

When Makir slipped his fingers from beneath mine, he stole my heat with it. I hadn’t realized I’d been brushing my thumb through his soft fur until my hand was empty. If I snatched his back, would I seem desperate?

“Sisip, I’m so glad to see you!” Makir stood from where he’d been sitting cross-legged at the end of my sleeping bag. I could hear him explaining about the melted starter, the attack of the beavers and my fall. He played it up.

“It was terrifying. Out of nowhere, sharp teeth sank into my ankle, and Geo rushed to my rescue.”

If by rushed, he meant I’d fallen off a cliff. Why was he making me out to be a hero instead of an idiot? Whatever the reason, I could have kissed him for it .

Hmmm. How would those blue lips feel? Soft and buttery? Would they melt against mine and taste of the ginger cookies my mom baked at Christmas? Or would they be the kind of firm that gave with just the right amount of pressure? Either way, they would yield to mine somewhere in the very near future. That knowledge resonated in my bones.

D’irk, one of the enforcers, climbed the tower of debris where I’d set up my tent last night and brought it down for me. With my supplies gathered, I packed them into my duffel bag while mentally thanking JayJay for his foresight in throwing in my tent and sleeping bag. Then I pinched myself. There would be no thank-yous for JayJay. He was responsible for this forced wilderness adventure. I would never have signed up for an impromptu camping trip on a planet where no one really knew what had survived the Fires That Cleanse.

Makir’s soft purr echoed in my memory, along with whispers of a remembered touch. “Nah,” I muttered. I pressed my fingers to the bump above my eye. That couldn’t have happened, but Makir’s eyes had changed from silver to lavender—that was real. Something had changed during the night.

My name in his soft purr had been real too. I would focus on that. If anything good had come from this unplanned adventure, it was Makir finally calling me by my name. No more archbuilder.

Makir rushed to my aid as I limped toward the hover trailer. The vibrations turning me inside out in Makir’s presence had disappeared entirely and been replaced by a cozy blanket of contentment.

“How’s your ankle?” Makir purred, a soft question, as the tip of his tail gently brushed over my boot right at the tenderest spot.

With the slightest hitch, I clambered up to where the enforcers were gathered and leaned against Makir. My head throbbed and my ankle ached, but when I paused and strained my eyes to look up, my heart stuttered. That was a long fucking way down.

“Way better than it should be.”

His purr drew me closer, his body warm and solid against me .

“Thanks for last night, Makir.” My voice rumbled. Fuck, he smelled good.

His eyes met mine and held. The silver and lavender swirled and drew me so close I could’ve unzipped his jumpsuit with my teeth.

Sisip cleared her throat and adjusted the high collar of her uniform, and I forced myself to step away from Makir’s delicious pull. Then, with an amused twist to her split-lip cat’s mouth, she looked between Makir and me, then at the stacks of lamar on the hover trailer. “I need to put in a request to your building crew, Geo. I wish for an opening to allow light into my dwelling now that you and Makir have sourced all this lamar.”

I scanned the horizon, and inventoried the scene around me. The wastelands were shockingly beautiful in the morning light. Sun refracted light in a kaleidoscope over stacks of lamar, casting sunrise-peach prisms where it touched.

“How did you find us?” Makir twisted his hair into a braid. It was extra unruly this morning, and as soon as he bound it, I wanted to unravel it and run my fingers through it until it was messy again. Plus, his ears were exposed. They were for my eyes only.

Sisip logged a note on her wristport. “Your neighbor, Raz, filed a missing person report.”

Makir immediately tensed and his eyes turned a solid silver. He grabbed his tail. “That was…kind.”

What was going on with Makir’s neighbor?

Sisip’s tawny ears twitched as her gaze scanned the wastelands, constantly on alert. “Let’s get you back to Yurstille and over to the medic. Makir said you took quite the tumble.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need to see the medic.”

“It’s Intergalactic Federation policy. You must seek medical attention if you’re injured on the job.” Her no-nonsense voice brooked no further discussion.

It only took moments for Makir to repair his hoverbike with their wealth of spare parts, and just like that, I was back on the trailer behind Makir’s hoverbike, heading toward Yurstille with an entourage of enforcers guiding our way.

“For the tenth time, I’m fine.” I brushed away JayJay’s concern.

When he wouldn’t stop his mothering I showed him the report, trying to convince him the doctor had given me the all clear. We’d both questioned Dr. Ten’s notation about “unusually accelerated healing.”

I spent the afternoon blissfully alone while JayJay checked in with the crews. I reviewed the progress report from yesterday, and everything was on track. A few emails for extra projects had come in. Sully, my only married crew member, saved every penny for his elaborate house plans. His family was expected on the supply ship due in three months. He would be up for a side project, so I scheduled him for a few weekend jobs.

I typed out a quick email to Ginger. Pretty please, more pictures of Pika and Charz. As much as I hated to admit it, my head hurt. Though not as much as it should have. Fingertips massaging my scalp ghosted through my memories. “I think I overdid it,” I muttered, shaking my muggy head and resting on my bunk.

A couple of hours later, I woke to a rumbling chorus of “Boss man.” My crew, finished for the day, lazily gathered fresh clothes and shower gear from their bunks.

My appetite was off, so I turned down dinner with my crew. I needed something to ease the restlessness crawling through my body, though.

I peeled myself out of bed and walked outside to the space in front of my office, widening my stance and clearing my head for some tai chi. Sparse vegetation pricked my ankles as I flowed into a twist, and I wished for the shelter of the oak tree I was so used to practicing under. I’d never thought about trees creating privacy before, but the distinct lack of personal space ruling my current life left me yearning for trees.

Before I finished my set, a gentle tug compelled me to move. The hit to my head must have messed me up more than I’d realized. I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to dull the thrum. I tried to force myself to work through my tai chi set and refocus my energy, but after the fourth repetition of the same brush knee sequence, I wrote it off as a lost cause. The compulsion to follow the tug was too much to ignore, so I walked instead.

The warm evening sky, painted a liquid gold, provided an idyllic playground for the woodskies strange squawking. Pink dust kicked up over my boots. I waved to the Rowtees as they passed, and we firmed up plans for their youngling’s naming ceremony.

I wandered the paths of Yurstille and followed the persuasive tug while mentally designing plans for the Rowtees’ nursery . If I incorporated the lamar into a series of tiny round sunlights, they’d create a pretty honeycomb pattern.

The tug increased in strength, and so did my pace. When I rounded the corner and saw Makir, the urge to run to him grew so intense I had to force my heels into the dry earth.

A Lizzard invaded his space. Its long, taloned fingers pinned Makir to the side of a ramshackle building. Makir’s head was down, and his tail whipped ferociously around him. His short blue fur stuck straight out on his arms as if he held a static electricity ball.

Makir’s whine immediately dislodged my heels from where they were planted. The Lizzard loomed even closer to Makir, and I short-circuited. He ran one of his talons up and down Makir’s chest, his forked tongue slithering too close to Makir’s ear.

Possessiveness burned through me like a lit fuse. Alligator lips dares to touch what’s mine?

A gust of warm wind sandblasted everything pink, and a panel dislodged from the shack Makir was pinned against, rattling through the air like shrapnel.

Instinctively, I pulled in my gut and stood taller. “Makir,” I barked, jogging toward him. His silver eyes met mine, briefly flashing lavender, and my heart galloped when his tail reached for me .

“Geo, what are you doing here?” The relief in his voice was palpable as Makir took advantage of the distraction and ducked out of reach of the scaled arms trapping him.

My name on his tongue was like melted chocolate. “Is there a problem here?” I growled at the Lizzard. Testosterone pumped through my body, and I glared at the much larger man encroaching on Makir’s space.

A rational thought tried to fight its way through my testosterone-fueled rage but fled when Makir pressed his long, lean body to my side. Why wasn’t he wearing a shirt? The fever subsided to a simmer, and the persistent tug was gone.

Instead, what was there was a sense of rightness so complete I’d never known the likes of it before. His scent flooded my nose, like my favorite ginger snaps mixed with crisp juniper needles. I was wide awake and on full alert.

“There’s-s-s no problem, right Mak?”

Makir cringed at the pet name Lizard Lips called him.

When Scaly moved toward us, Makir clung closer, his lavender eyes asking me for something I couldn’t quite decipher. Was he aware of his tail wrapped around my ankle like a coil and what it was doing to my aching dick?

My fists yearned to show this creep a lesson.

“S-s-simply a friendly neighborly conversation.” His wide mouth opened in a razor-toothed smile, the opposite of friendly.

Ah, so this was Raz, the neighbor who’d alerted the enforcers to our absence. I changed my plans about thanking him.

“In fact, Mak was-s-s about to come over for a late evening dinner, weren’t you, Mak?” Raz eyeballed Makir as if he were dessert.

I stepped between Makir and Raz. “Unfortunately, I’ve discovered some last-minute changes to Makir’s hovery I must go over with him before tomorrow.” My voice bristled with forced politeness as I dismissed him.

I placed one firm palm on Makir’s bare lower back, and warmth spread through my fingertips .

Shirtless, the defined muscles of his arms and the dips and gullies of his abs begged to be traced. His torso was longer than mine and covered in the same fur as the backs of his hands. The color blended and matched the sky blue of his face when it reached his stomach. My fingers wiggled, and I yearned to smooth my palms over his velvety skin.

“Where’s your house? I mean, dwelling?”

When he nodded toward the heap of lashed-together trash he’d been pinned against, my neck flushed and my fists clenched. I led him through his pieced-together doorway, Raz’s deflating hiss lingering behind us. Raz was just as I suspected—all bully and no bite.

“Makir, this isn’t secure,” I snapped. Urgency itched over my muscles as they pulsed, and my skin grew taut. I had to keep him safe.

With a hand on Makir’s shoulder, I turned him to face me. I smoothed my hands down his bare arms, over his hips, and patted his legs, ignoring the sparks igniting along my skin where it met his.

“Are you okay?” My voice was so deep I was surprised Makir understood it enough to nod.

I stood and inventoried his dwelling. A patchwork of tin and steel intermixed with some type of adobe-like building material. The ground was bare and uneven, and a dip was tucked away in the far corner, filled with graneth grass. It poked out from under the pile of white pelts from our trip to the wastelands. That must be his nest. I gulped as the scent overwhelmed me. I rubbed the tight skin over my bicep as I sucked in a deep breath, held in my gut and calmed myself.

His tail unwound from around my leg and swooshed as he backed away, leaving a hollowed out feeling in my chest. “I’m doing the best I can.” His voice wavered as he pulled up the top half of his beat-up jumpsuit, zipping it over all his luxurious blue skin.

Fuck, I didn’t mean to be critical . I kicked the ground in frustration. Damn it, he’d gone from one asshole straight into the arms of another. As archbuilder, I could provide Makir with a secure dwelling. I didn’t give a rat’s ass if he was next on the list or not. His house was going up one way or the other.

“We’re starting your dwelling tomorrow.”

Makir jumped at the force of my voice. “What?” His tail tapped agitatedly on the ground.

“You heard me. Tomorrow at seven suns.” My voice echoed off the tin walls like thunder.

Makir straightened his shoulders, and his silver eyes flashed at me. “I need my hovery completed first.” His voice was firm but threaded with a delicious purr that weakened my knees.

“You will have a secure home, and that is final.”

On that order, I abruptly turned and left his home. The tug immediately resumed, and with it, the overwhelming need to act as a sentinel and stand outside his door all night. Against my better judgment, I forced myself to return to the sono. The cooler night air did nothing to soothe my hot skin.

I stomped home in the dark and promised to be kind to Makir tomorrow.