Chapter 20
Rosie
Iread the message on my communicator for the second time and lean back against the back of the couch as the meaning settles around me. I have options. And that's almost as terrifying as not having any.
I'd still get the full payment at the end of the three months, which would take care of all of my debt on Earth plus leave some money leftover for emergencies.
Or I could go home, get a third of the settlement money, which would give me a small bit of breathing room before I had to find a job.
But I'd be back to sleeping in Betty and Craig's spare bedroom.
No matter what, I don't think staying with Rexus is an option. No matter how much I wish it could be.
And oh, I wish I could stay with him. He can be so sweet when he tries and he's hands down the best fuck I've ever had. But I don't think we'll ever be more than horny acquaintances and I just don't think that will be enough for me.
Not when I could accidentally find myself falling in love with him. Not when he's made it clear he isn't interested in emotional entanglements. Not when I might be halfway there already.
I toss my communicator to the side only to pick it up a moment later. I need a distraction and my novel is just the thing. Am I projecting in my book about a human falling in love with an alien? Maybe. But what is writing if not author trauma dumping on the page?
Ever since I gave myself permission to start over, the words have been flowing. I've gotten into a routine over the last week that's comfortable. It's one I could enjoy, if I didn't know it wouldn't last.
Pickles curls up beside me and nudges her nose and front paws under my leg. I give her head a couple of scratches before I dive into the story. I have a few hours yet before Rexus will be here with dinner and I need to get my head on straight before he arrives.
I lose myself in the story. In the battle of fighting alien factions, in the human trapped in space, in the romance building between her and one of the faction leaders. I let myself imagine what it would be like to be so wanted that someone would burn worlds down to keep you safe.
I'm in the middle of a particularly hot sex scene when there's a knock on the door. It slides open without me answering and Rexus walks in carrying a covered tray. I lost track of time.
Rexus' smile drops as he looks me over. "What are you up to?"
I blush and put the communicator aside. I'm sure I'm flushed and I can feel the dampness between my thighs as I shift on the couch.
I'd gotten really into the story. Who could blame me?
I'm a woman with a high sex drive who hasn't been fucked in a week while having dinner with an insanely hot male almost every night.
Of course some good smut would get me worked up.
"Writing a book." I tell him. It's the first time I've said those words out loud in years. I'm writing a book. They taste good on my tongue.
"Interesting." He crosses the room to set the tray on the kitchen table before turning back to me. "Then why do you look and smell like you're begging to get fucked?"
I bite my lip to try to think of an answer. I hadn't realized he could smell my arousal. That was almost embarrassing. Rexus crosses the room and looms over me with his legs pressed against my crisscrossed shins and his arms caging me in as he presses his hands to the back of the couch.
"Do you want me to fuck you, Rosie?"
The smart thing would be to say no, absolutely not. It would be a complete lie but it might help me keep a clear head. We're good at fucking. We both know that. It's everything else that we suck at.
But the horny little bitch who lives inside of me speaks first. "More than anything."