Hariette #4
I cough, choking on nothing, but the sincerity in his face is gut wrenching. “Maybe one day big guy. For now let’s just start with ‘dating’.”
I put a hand on his chest. It’s warm but distractingly still: no breath passes through his lungs, no pulse beats under his skin, no blood pumps through his veins.
But when he captures my hand in his and brings it to his mouth to press his lips to my knuckles, he’s got more heart than any man I’ve ever dated.
He leans in, watching me under hooded eyes. “Your heart rate is rising again. Should we perform another biomatter extraction?”
My own heart pounds hard in my chest. A thudding so loud that I can almost hear it. The noise startles me out of my reverie.
That is not my pulse. Someone is on my front stoop.
“Harry, open up!” a voice calls through the hollow-core door.
“Shit,” I mutter. “Fuck.”
“Chris?” Doug’s voice drops a dangerous octave as he moves across the room.
“No, Doug, wait.”
But his hand’s already twisting the knob. “Don’t worry, Artificer, I will have him leave.”
He swings the door open, still completely nude, an impressive dick just draped between muscular thighs for anyone to see.
“Who the fuck are you?” A hand catches the door, and Chris storms into my apartment, his eyes on Doug.
“I forgot.” I try to move between the men, to block Chris’s view of the nude man in my kitchen. But Chris moves faster, pointing a furious finger at me.
“You forgot?” He shakes his head. “You lied. You tried to make me look like an asshole waiting for you.”
“Chris—I’m sorry.” I take two steps back, shocked by his ire. I’ve never seen him like this before. This loud or this angry. I raise a hand, trying to soothe, sway him. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“If you don't want me upset then you should come home, where you belong.” His hand wraps around my wrist, fingers digging into my flesh.
I sense movement behind him.
“Is something wrong, my dear?” Doug’s dark voice grumbles. Heavy, solid, like it’s carved from marble, a hand lands on Chris’s shoulder.
“Chris is just leaving.” I try to jerk my wrist away. But the human fingers tighten as he narrows a glare on my face.
“Fucking whore.” The words seep out of Chris’s mouth with venom.
In a blur of movement, Doug wraps his fingers into the scruff of Chris’s shirt, and he lifts. Doug’s arm extends further than a human arm should be able to extend, raising Chris from the ground.
“What the hell, man?” Chris squirms, the toes of his boots barely scrape against the floor.
Like an annoying bug or a spider that got into the house, Doug carries him outside and gently places him on the sidewalk beyond the front step. Naked the entire time, his shapely ass rippling as he walks.
“There we are.” Doug’s tone is easy. He levels a friendly pat to Chris’s head that nearly knocks his knees from beneath him. “Take a moment to catch your breath, friend. Then you will leave.”
“What the fuck, asshole!” Chris whirls on Doug and, despite the Gear Shifter’s larger stature, takes a swing at his face.
“No!” I’m running forward without thinking.
Doug catches his fist in midair. Chris yelps, trying to pull his hand away, but Doug holds firm, keeping Chris immobile, completely unperturbed by his squabbling.
“Unfortunately, I cannot hurt him, Harriette.” Doug tilts his head to one side, contemplating Chris’s.
“But if you would like to perform physical retaliation, I may suggest punching him in the diaphragm. Or if you prefer a weapon, loading a few heavy items into a sock or a pillow case creates an excellent makeshift tool.”
I snort out an embarrassing laugh, and then cover my mouth. “I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Acceptable.” Doug’s hand releases Chris’s fist and the man nearly trips over his own feet as he scrabbles backward. “I may advise that next time my Artificer may not be as magnanimous.”
“Well, this bastard can’t be here all the time, can he?” Chris cradles his hand against his chest, and spits on the ground.
“Yes. I can.” Doug’s voice is calm, level, but his eyes flash red. “And I will be.”
Chris jumps back. Eyes dancing between me, and the naked man standing on the sidewalk. His brows pull together, like he’s trying to decide if he believes what he just saw.
“Chris. We aren’t doing this anymore. Okay?
I don’t want to see you again, ever.” I roll my shoulders back, but any real confidence I have comes from the strange alien who’s promised to keep me safe.
My guy, who is currently airing all of his business for the world to see.
I pull the damp towel out of my hair and start to wrap it around my big bully’s waist. “Doug, sweetie. Come back inside. We have to have a very real conversation about human modesty.”
“Yes. And I have vegetable soup to prepare,” Doug announces, chin held proud. He spins back to face my front door, pausing just long enough to scoop me up. I squeal in delight as he tosses me over his shoulder, one hand keeping the towel in place around my ass.
He carries me easily over the threshold, and I just know: this is going to be the first perfect night of many. This man, he’s mine, forever.