Page 16 of Alien Jeopardy (Mated & Afraid #1)

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Ellison

He doesn’t let me help.

Annoyance is my new best friend.

My arms cross over my chest, my foot taps a steady staccato on the sheet he set me on top of like a doll he was tired of carrying around.

“I can help you,” I tell him for the fiftieth time, to no avail. “We can do it faster if we work together.”

Next to us, Lucy and her alien have just settled in to try to put theirs together, and I harrumph as the pair of them do their best to actually communicate.

I’m not exactly surprised. At twenty-four, Lucy’s the baby of our friend group and a total sweetheart, from the frills on her pajamas all the way down to the adorable bows on her slippers.

They’re quite a bit dirtier than her usual pristine clothes, but at least she wore slippers to be unknowingly abducted in. Meanwhile, my feet are bruised and cut up and all sorts of nasty. Even her glossy black hair looks picture-perfect still.

I have a distinct feeling my hair is doing its best bog witch impression. At least she’s safe—and happy with our situation. I’d hate to think any of my friends were suffering.

Except Poppy… I wouldn’t mind if she weren’t exactly having the time of her life right now after tricking us into this. My nose crinkles at my own mean thought, and I try to banish it.

Frustrated, I blow out a breath, and neither Lucy nor her alien notices me staring, smiling and gesturing and laughing as they do their best to work together.

Working with him is clearly something Rex doesn’t want me to do, so I watch Lily and her teammate—emphasis on mate—make slow progress. I’m not sure what it is we’re supposed to be building but it looks like a cart of some sort. Maybe a wheelbarrow?

“Ell,” Rex finally says, and I slowly turn back to him.

What I see makes my jaw drop.

He’s screwing in tiny pieces on the wheelbarrow thing, his thumbs swirling in an expert motion that tells me he knows exactly what to do with those huge hands.

I swallow hard, transfixed.

Holy hell, I had no idea you could use a screwdriver like that. Wait, it’s not a screwdriver. It’s some sort of Allen wrench, and my god, I should have been watching my alien partner the whole time.

I definitely didn’t know you could use an Allen wrench like that. The big muscles in his forearms bunch as he rotates the device with his middle finger and thumb, and my body starts screaming that I could be an Allen wrench, if he wanted.

I frown, tilting my head. Why in the world would aliens give us an Allen wrench to work with? Out of alllll the technology in the universe, that’s the one they use?

“Ell,” he repeats, and I drag my gaze away from the tiny muscles twitching on his lightly striped chest.

“Uh-huh, Rex, that’s my name.”

He grins at me, and I’m even more annoyed by the fact that I’m drawn to him in spite of being irritated that he didn’t want my help.

Sure, I might have gotten in the way more than I could have helped, but that doesn’t matter, does it?

My nose crinkles, and I huff out a breath.

“Ell,” he repeats, pointing to the bin of the wheelbarrow. “Ell,” he says again, tapping the side.

“Oh, ooooh,” I say on an exhale as realization dawns.

I climb over the side of the wheelbarrow basin, sitting on the thin perch across the sides where Rex is patting.

He grins at me enthusiastically, clearly pleased I’ve understood his directive, and unable to resist the infectiousness of it, I give him a thumbs-up.

His smile falls, something like horror flashing across his face, his tail twitching behind him like a mad cat’s.

Oops. I cringe, letting my hand fall numbly into my lap.

“Sorry,” I tell him, not wanting to piss him off, even though he just pissed me off. My hormones must really be in overdrive, ugh. “You did great.”

I even flutter my eyelashes a little as I smile up at him, trying to flirt my way out of the cringe.

Rex just frowns, then stomps to the front of the wheelbarrow, picking up the handles. I brace my hands against the sides, ignoring Lily and her partner’s cute little laughs behind me as he tugs me and the cart behind him.

It isn’t until he’s picked up a steady clip, moving quickly over the rough terrain but jostling me as little as possible, that it hits me that this isn’t a wheelbarrow at all.

It’s a rickshaw, and he’s fucking moving us.

He tucks his wings in tight to his body, which, in tandem with the weird drifting lanterns overhead, gives me the perfect view of all those glorious muscles.

Whew.

I nearly fan my face, but the wheel of the rickshaw hits a dip in the ground. Squeaking, I clamp my hands tighter as I nearly bounce off the narrow excuse for a seat.

My jaw’s clenched tight too, and the silver lining of this wild situation is that my sudden fear of being bounced off my seat has thankfully eclipsed my raging libido.

The immediate danger of bodily harm has outweighed the need for a good dicking down.

Chancing a glance over my shoulder at the starting line, I breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of Lucy and her alien still working together to complete their rickshaw.

Damn. As annoyed as I was, maybe I have to admit ole Sexy Rexy had the right of it—he knew exactly what he was doing and I would have been in the way.

I mentally pat myself on the back for my newfound maturity.

Mentally, because there is no way in hell I’m taking my iron grip off the cart. We’re putting the rickety in rickshaw.

“You can do it, Rex,” I yell what I’m hoping is an encouraging sound.

He tosses a grin over his shoulder at me, and I yelp as he picks up the pace, moving even faster through the roped course.

I whoop in glee, my bad mood dissolving in the face of our impending win.

We’re going to fucking win! There’s no way Lucy and her dude are going to be able to catch us, they haven’t even left the starting line?—

My admiration shifts to something else entirely. Now that the cart has picked up an insane amount of momentum and we’ve entered the straightaway of what looks to be the final stretch of the course, Rex flaps his wings, a gust of air tossing my hair back.

A screech of something between disbelief and terror rips from my throat as the rickshaw tilts backwards, Rex suspended in between the two handles.

My jaw drops as he beats his wings again, spinning into a handstand as the rickshaw continues to move forward.

“What the fuck?” I ask on a high-pitched exhalation.

He continues to move, like some kind of circus acrobat in those fancy shows that cost an arm and a leg to go see. His feet glance across the ground, helping the rickshaw stay in motion as he performs dazzling feat after dazzling feat, showing off his sculpted body and physical stamina.

It’s quite a show, and I’m dazed by it, the heat and lust coming back full force as he continues to dance across the finish line.

It takes me what feels like a full minute to realize we’ve stopped, and when he turns around, flashing me a mega-watt smile, I nearly dissolve into a puddle.

The floating lights illuminate his sage-colored skin, his orange eyes and pointed teeth, and I’ve never wanted anything as bad as I want to press my body against his.

I’m moving before I can think better of it, letting my physical needs run the show, the rest of my brain short-circuiting completely.

My body launches itself from the tiny bench, and I smack into a very surprised alien’s arms. His chest feels so warm and right against mine, and I moan as I wrap my legs around his waist as best I can, wriggling up his body.

Huge hands grip my ass, and he hisses in a breath of surprise as I surge against him.

My own hands grip his hair, and I tug his mouth down, wanting to kiss him, needing his mouth on mine.

The effect of my lips against his is immediate, electricity coursing through me as we share breath. He’s still as a statue, letting me lead, and it’s so freaking cute that I smile even as my tongue darts out against his lower lip, then his fang.

A guttural sound builds in him, and the intensity of my need increases again, leading me to grab for his horns, needing him to give me more.

I need so much more.

He groans, a sound that seems ripped from the depths of his soul, and then he shakes, jerking as he matches my motions.

I grip his horns tighter, my fingers exploring the ridges while he explores my mouth.

He jerks one last time, then pulls away, eyes dilated so wide that only a smidge of orange shows around his pupils.

I’m panting, he’s panting, and I whine a little as he starts to detach me from his body. I dig my ankles into the small of his back, fingers still tight on his horns.

His hands try to pry my legs off, and a drone buzzes close to us both before his wings snap out, hiding me from view.

The heat of my unsated desire turns to ice in my veins, and my eyes widen in horror.

Oh, oh no.

I jumped him. I literally jumped him, on camera, dry-humping him and forcing him to kiss me.

On camera.

And despite what his body seemed to say, the hands tugging me off of him and the way he’s avoiding my gaze scream how he really feels about all this.

He didn’t want to kiss me, not at all.