Page 4 of Chosen By the Alien (Halloween Temptation #11)

For some reason I’m not walking away the moment we find the guest room. We enter as if I know what is waiting inside. The door closes behind us, and suddenly, the guest room feels a hundred degrees warmer.

Tahl stands between me and the exit. He’s not doing anything threatening.

He doesn’t need to. His presence alone, tall and still and watching me in that maddeningly calm way, is enough to make my skin hum.

My legs want to move. My mouth wants to say something clever.

But all I manage is a tight, awkward swallow.

He tilts his head. “You thought I was pretending to be an alien.”

I wet my lips. “I mean… yeah. The whole alien thing. It sounded like… like a game. Are you not?”

Tahl steps forward. Not aggressive. Just closer. “I am not pretending. I am what you call an alien. A being not from this planet.”

The light from the hallway filters in, faint and soft, and Tahl. He changes. His pupils glow, a sharp, unnatural gold that doesn’t belong to anything I’ve ever seen on Earth. It’s not contact lenses. It’s not a trick of the light. His eyes burn, alive, focused directly on me.

I blink.

Holy fuck.

He isn’t human.

Not quite.

I stare at him, heart pounding.

He isn’t wearing a costume. He never was.

His skin glows softly, not gold like jewelry but like candlelight warming through flesh. Iridescent shimmer slides across his collarbone, catching the shadows, fluid like water or light trapped beneath the surface.

Every inch of him is impossibly smooth, subtly patterned with faint lines, not scars, not veins, something else. Something designed. His chest is broad, sculpted like it was carved by a god with a grudge and good taste.

“This is not a costume. But your Halloween celebration seemed like the safest time to appear.”

I take a step back and sit on the edge of the bed before I collapse. My knees are liquid. My mouth, dry.

Tahl watches me with a calm I don’t deserve. “Does this frighten you?”

I don’t answer right away. I am afraid, sort of, but not in the way I expected. I’m not scared of being hurt. I’m scared of how beautiful he is. Of how my body reacts to his.

“I…” I start, then shake my head. “I don’t even know what I’m looking at.”

He kneels slowly in front of me. “I have come to Earth for a mate,” he says, like this is the most natural thing in the world. “I’have studied your language. Your customs. I followed your scent.”

The air leaves my lungs in one messy breath. “My scent.”

“Yes.” He’s so close now, I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. “You do not realize how loud you are to me. How alive. I knew the moment I saw you.”

I laugh. Nervous. Weak. “This is crazy. People don’t… this isn’t how things happen.”

“People,” he says, his eyes locking on mine. “People are not me.”

His hand touches my knee.

Same jolt.

Like earlier, like a pulse through my bones. My breath hitches.

I should pull away. I should. But I don’t. I’m rooted in place by something I don’t understand. My heart is hammering, not out of fear, but anticipation.

I whisper, “I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

Tahl cups my face, fingers warm and sure. “Let me show you. You can stop any time.”

His lips are on mine before I realize what’s happening.

Soft.

Warmer than I expected.

Not rushed. Not rough. Just there, pressing gently, asking instead of taking. And something in me breaks open, something I didn’t even know I’d been holding back. Because my mouth opens to his. My hand finds his bare shoulder. My head tilts. And then I’m kissing him back.

God.

His lips taste like heat and ozone. Like the air right before a storm breaks. His tongue teases at the seam of my mouth, not demanding, just asking. I let him in. I don’t think. I just feel.

His hands slide down, one at the nape of my neck, the other brushing over my side, and I shiver.

My skin is on fire. I’ve kissed women before, plenty.

But this… this is different. Not just because he’s a man.

Because he’s him. He kisses like he’s learning me.

Like he’s hungry for something he doesn’t know the name for yet.

And maybe I am too.

I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I hold his waist. His body is so warm, his skin slick in this unreal way, but still familiar enough that I don’t want to stop touching. I grip tighter. He makes a sound in his throat—deep and satisfied—and kisses me deeper.

I moan before I can stop it.

Fuck. I’m hard.

It’s not subtle. There’s no hiding it.

Tahl slows the kiss. Pulls back just enough to look at me.

His eyes, glowing and golden, search mine. “Do you want to stop?”

I don’t speak. I can’t.

I should say yes. I should walk away and pretend none of this happened. I’m not… I’ve never even thought about guys this way.

But now?

Now I want to drown in this. In him.

Tahl brushes a thumb over my lower lip. “It is okay,” he says. “You are still yourself.”

I choke out a breath. “I don’t know who that is right now.”

“You are curious. You are open. That is all that matters.”

I close my eyes and lean into him again, chasing his mouth.

Our lips connect, and this time it’s me who deepens it.

I tug him closer. His bare chest presses into my t-shirt, and I feel every inch of heat, every ripple of that inhuman muscle.

My hands explore without thought, over the smooth dip of his back, down to the subtle swell of his hips.

I want more. Not just the kiss: everything.

And still, he doesn’t rush. He lets me lead, lets me find my rhythm. His tongue dances with mine, slow and sinuous. His hands are patient, reverent. It’s the softest kind of worship, and I don’t know how long we stay like this, mouths wet and open, breathless and tangled.

Eventually, he breaks the kiss again, resting his forehead to mine.

I’m gasping.

Sweating.

Hard as stone beneath my jeans.

My pulse pounds between my legs.

Tahl brushes my hair back. “You taste like heat.”

I laugh, breathless. “You taste like trouble.”

That smile again, the quiet, unreadable one. Like he already knows how this ends.

He lifts my chin. “Do you want more?”

I should say no.

I should stand up and leave the room. But I don’t. I don’t move at all.

His question hangs in the air, soft and charged. My chest rises and falls as I stare at him. At the alien man with glowing eyes, warm skin, and lips that just ruined me.

I’m trembling.

Not with fear.

With need.

The kind that doesn’t listen to logic.

And I don’t have an answer. Not yet. Not out loud.

But I don’t leave.

I stay.

I breathe him in, still tasting him on my lips, my mouth still parted, hungry for something I can’t name.

And his hands, those impossibly warm hands, settle on my thighs, anchoring me to this moment, this strange, terrifying, beautiful moment.

“I think I want to know what it feels like.”

Tahl’s breath catches. “To be wanted?”

I nod, shakily. “By you.”

The glow of his eyes softens. His fingers curl around mine. “Then stay. Just stay.”

So I do.