Chapter 6
Knox
She storms off into the lounge, and I don’t know what to do.
I hate that she’s mad at me. I hate that I don’t know how to offer her snacks.
But how the fuck was I supposed to know I was meant to offer snacks?
I don’t know the first fucking thing about how to speak to an Earth woman, let alone how to host one in my cabin!
I work on my sauce and try to pretend that she’s not here. Try to pretend she’s wearing more than just my sweatshirt. Pretend that her nipples aren’t so fucking pointy.
I sit on the kitchen floor and watch the tomatoes and garlic roast through the oven door and try to pretend that my cock isn’t aching for her. Try to pretend that when she offered to make me a cup of coffee, my heart didn’t leap at the idea of someone looking after me.
When the tomatoes and garlic are done, I start work on the sauce and boil some spaghetti in salted water. When it’s nearly ready, I grab some fresh basil from a pot on the windowsill, stir some into the sauce and save some for a garnish.
“I made lunch,” I call out as I scoop the spaghetti into two bowls.
A little fuzzy feeling finds me at the sight of the bowls sitting together.
Not just me and my own sad bowl of pasta, but two bowls side by side.
First the coffee cups, now the bowls. I don’t really want to admit that this feels so… nice. But it does.
She wanders into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes with the too-long cuff of my sweatshirt. Her dark blonde hair’s a mess, like she’s been asleep out there.
Gods, she looks so damn cute like this, all sleepy and sexy.
A random thought about her staying here with me forever crosses my mind. But that’s crazy. We don’t even like each other.
“It would have been better if I’d let it rest a few more hours, but I thought I should feed you before you got mad at me again.”
“I’m not mad,” she sighs, sliding into a seat at the dining table. She dips a fork into her bowl and starts spinning the spaghetti onto it. I hold a breath, waiting to see if she likes it.
She takes a bite, and a few seconds later, she lets out a moan that goes straight to my dick. “Oh my god! This is sensational!”
My heart does a happy dance. I stick my fork in and try a bite. “The sauce will be even better later tonight,” I say.
“It’s amazing now.” A little dribble of sauce slides out of her mouth, and I have to resist the urge to reach out, swipe it off her lips and suck it off my finger.
“Are you a chef or something?”
“Used to be,” I tell her.
She looks up at me with those pretty, wide hazel eyes, and I guess she can see something in my face that makes her not ask me anything else about that.
“Well, you’re really good at cooking.”
“Hmph.”
“It was my big dream to open a diner,” she says.
My eyes widen at this information. “You like food?”
“Love it. I practically grew up in my grandmother’s diner.”
“Why don’t you work there instead of at the market?”
“She died.”
“Oh.”
“My parents sold the diner to pay off some of their debts. It’s still there. The old empty building at the edge of town?”
I shrug. I don’t know it. I don’t go to town.
“I’m just working at the market until I can save up enough money to buy it back.” She takes another bite of spaghetti. “This would be a great dish on the menu. A cozy comfort classic.”
I just blink at her and then shove another bite in my mouth.
She gets the hint I’m done talking, and we eat the rest in silence. But I can’t stop thinking about her diner.
When we’re done, she gets up and takes the dishes to the sink. It’s such a simple gesture, but it makes me feel too many things. Annoyance and overwhelm at her being in my space, sadness that I’m usually all alone up here, total fucking misery that she’ll leave tomorrow.
Yeah, I have the guys, but they don’t come over and eat spaghetti with me. They don’t sit on my couch and fall asleep watching TV while I cook. They don’t make me feel whatever the fuck I’m feeling!
“Don’t do that.” I snap, grabbing the dishes from her.
“I was just trying to help.”
“Well — don’t!”
She shakes her head, her eyes full of hurt. “You know what? I think it might just be better for both of us if I wait this storm out in my car.”
“You’ll freeze out there.”
“Well, I can’t fucking stay here with you when you clearly don’t want me here!”
I throw the dishes in the sink and grip the countertop. “You can’t! It’s too cold!”
“I have blankets. I’ll be fine out there. Out of your way.”
I turn around and glare at her. Fuck, she looks like a vision in nothing but that sweatshirt. My fingers itch to slide that zipper down—
“You can’t leave!”
“Why not? You don’t want me here! You’d be happier if I was freezing out there!”
I go to her, grip her shoulders and look down into her beautiful hazel eyes — such a comforting shade of green in this light that reminds me of home.
“You’re not safe out there. You’re only safe in here with me.
I’m not good at talking to women. Don’t know how.
But I will fucking protect you with my life if you stay with me. ”
She lets out a gasp, heat spreads across her cheeks, and then my lips are crashing into hers.
My first kiss on Earth, and oh. My. God.
This tastes like Earth heaven. Her lips feel like a warm, soft landing after decades of falling.
My hands slide into her hair, and I pull her closer, tasting her, holding her, feeling her warmth, her softness.
She tastes like fresh Earth tomatoes, sunlight, air, and I need more.
So much fucking more. I grip her face in my hands and lick the corner of her lips that still tastes like sauce.
Her arms reach up around my neck, and she pushes her body into mine.
She wants to be close to me too! I can’t believe it!
And I want to be so fucking close to her!
Forget close. I want to be inside her. Need to be inside her.
With her arms high around me, I can feel that her sweatshirt has ridden up her back.
I can’t fucking help myself, I drag my hands down through the soft tendrils of her hair, down her back and to her ass…
and it’s fucking bare. No panties?! Holy shit!
My hands grab and squeeze her ass while my heart catches fire, my cock throbbing with need for her, my soul yearning for hers.
Gods, it’s been so long, will I even know what to do?
As my tongue thrusts into her mouth, my hands keep exploring below. I find a little scrap of material at her waist and realize she’s not bare. She’s wearing some kind of tiny panty thing.
I grip it with both hands and easily rip through the material. Super-strength is useful for so many tasks.
She gasps and then lets out a laugh. “They were expensive! Calvin Klein!”
“How much could such a tiny scrap of cotton cost?” I ask, holding the ripped thing in the air and frowning at it. How the hell does this thing perform as underwear?
She smiles, and gods, she’s beautiful. “You owe me twenty bucks,” she says, but I don’t think she cares about the panties. At all.
“I’ll buy you more,” I mumble into her neck, dropping the scrap to the floor.
“Oh, sure, I can just see you shopping for women’s underwear!” A giggle rises up from her chest, and it warms me in a way I never felt before. Sex in the pods wasn’t like this. It wasn’t warm. It was clinical. Purposeful. A quick fuck against a wall so you didn’t go space-crazy.
I slide my fingers between her legs and she’s wet. I shove a finger inside her and we both fucking moan. She’s ready. So warm, wet, tight, ready for my cock. Good.
Fucking her is going to feel amazing. The release I’ve been needing for years.
Squeezing her ass, I lift her easily. She opens her legs and wraps them around me. I shove her against the nearest wall and press my body into hers. She’s all soft and warm, and she smells like snow and lilies and sweet winter berries.
I hold her against the wall with one hand and shove my jeans down with the other. I line up my cock, so ready to shove it inside her…
But I don’t. I just freeze.
Because my cock is fucking glowing.