Delivered to the Aliens: Cosmic Connections (5 page)

He frowned. His eyes were fixed on her as well but not for the same reason. She was holding back from them. Alton couldn’t see it, refused see it, but he’d find out her secret.

Zan absently scratched at the base of his horns. He didn’t like it when she talked about her ex. A possessive growl issued in his throat. He liked it less when those meatheads, Gavis, Vinis and Linis, crowded around Sophia. Something in him clicked into place. Something primal and what he assumed was long gone: the need to protect his mate. Alton was the nurturing one in their Brace. He was their charming front, forging ties to the community and always having time for a friendly word. People
liked
Alton.

Zan didn’t care much for talking. People tolerated Zan.

Was it any wonder then that Zan sprang into action when he saw Sophia in distress? A strong male protects a vulnerable female. That’s what they
did.
It didn’t mean anything or that he was attracted to the Terran female. It certainly did not mean he accepted her as their mate.

Sophia was too fragile. The meatheads at the bar only confirmed this fear. Taking a mate was too risky, even a strong Corravian female. A soft Terran female? No fangs, delicate pink skin and tiny in comparison to a Corravian? She’d need constant protection. Corra was simply too dangerous for a weak Terran mate.

Zan suspected that if the crowd had been Terran, she would have held her own. Fire burned in her eyes; a fighter's spirit. She didn’t panic but instead found a tool to even out the situation. It wasn’t enough, of course. The Corravian males towered over her small frame. Zan came back around to the conclusion that Corra was far too dangerous for her. He had to make Alton see the wisdom in sending her back.

He sent the truck back to the homestead on autopilot. He refused to give Alton any time alone with the Terran female. Alton would lay the charm on thick and she’d blush and giggle, falling a little bit in love with him. The notion seemed wrong to Zan. He wanted to be there for those moments, even if he wouldn’t admit to having gentler emotions.

With all three wedged into the cabin of the vehicle, Zan found it hard to steer his thoughts away from the female. Her appealing scent filled the confined space, a tantalizing fresh mixture of citrus, sunshine and something sweetly feminine. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Perhaps it was the way her thigh pressed against his, or the restless way her hands fluttered, but Zan wanted to pull her to him and never let go.

It was the mating instinct. Nothing more. He didn’t want her, not really.

“How many legs do those things have?” Sophia twisted in the seat, kneeling on the bench, and watched a herd of Bova through the back window. He totally wasn’t checking out the curve of her ass and thinking about sinking his fangs into her juicy…

He. Did. Not. Want. Her.

Zan grumbled, cock instantly hard. His hands clamped around her waist, pulling her down to the seat. “Sit. Alton is not a good driver.”

“I’m a great driver,” his Brace partner said, smirk on his lips.

Zan frowned and turned to stare out the passenger window, ignoring the throb deep within his horns. He didn’t desire the Terran female. He just needed to get laid, simple as that. His physical reactions were not her fault.

They were Alton’s.

Alton knew the mating instinct in Zan would kick in the moment a female came into their home. It was unfair, and frankly ignoble, the way his Brace partner put him at such a disadvantage. Since losing Arlean years ago, his body was primed. It craved a mate to care for and protect. Not only was he fighting Alton on this mail-order bride nonsense, he was fighting his own damn self.

He so needed to get laid.

He and Alton never really agreed on casual sex. Alton was too ready for a commitment. Zan wasn’t interested in anything long term. Maybe if they had shared a woman more often, Alton wouldn’t have felt the need for this harebrained scheme.

Zan scratched at the base of his throbbing horns. Probably not.

Back at the homestead, Zan carried in Sophia’s purchases. He didn’t know what the female had planned but she bounced excitedly when he carried up the rolled bed to the empty bedroom. That bouncing part was pretty nice, actually. It got better when he tore open the packaging and the bed unfurled and expanded. With a deep sigh,  she flopped down on the mattress, dark hair fanning out behind her.

Zan’s fingers twitched as he fought back the urge to stroke her hair, to see if it was as silky as it appeared. It was bad enough that he opened a few bottles and sniffed the contents, savoring the floral scents. He didn’t need to obviously fawn over the female. Alton did that enough for the two of them.

Alton prepared the evening meal and Sophia quickly grew drowsy.

“Your beer is stronger than what I’m used to,” she said, stifling a yawn.

“You did have three bottles,” Zan grumbled. They would have to stock a lighter brew, to keep her from going to the bar and encountering Gavis, Vinis and Linis again.

“The first one barely counts. I hardly had any before...” Her voice grew quiet, thinking about events at the bar.

Zan growled at the memory. Alton raised an eyebrow and smirked. Zan wanted punch the smirk off his face. He stood from the table abruptly, knocking back the chair.

“I’m going to sleep now.”

Alone in the bedroom, Zan stroked his cock. Sophia’s scent clung to the sheets. He did not want the Terran female. He did not feel protective. He did not want to claim Sophia for his own. The fingers of his free hand dug into the pillow where her scent was strongest. He certainly was not thinking about the juicy thickness of her thighs and how he wanted to wrap them around himself. He worked his cock with a strong stroke up the shaft and a twist at the head. His breathing grew erratic and he shuddered, spilling his release into his hand.

He
did not
crave Sophia. At all.

Chapter Eight

Sophia

The next day Sophia attacked the saniroom with a vengeance. Alton kept the kitchen clean but neglected the rest of the house. Dust and grime covered everything. The funk of stale air lingered. The heat of late summer did not help. She opened a few windows to air out the house but the odor would remain until she could thoroughly wash all the linens and scrub the floors. She had a plan to move through the house one room at a time, deep cleaning and then defending that clean with zeal.

She rested in the heat of the day. A quick rinse in the freshly scrubbed bath cooled her and she lay on her bed. The house’s cooling unit pumped out tepid air, barely cooler than the outside temperature.

Her head hurt with a dull pounding and a hint of nausea. She had two and half beers last night. Having a hangover from that was ridiculous. Maybe it was the heat. Sophia spent the last few years on a climate controlled space station with comfortable temperatures. If anything, the lower levels where she could afford rent were too chilly. The insulation wasn’t as good down in the cheap housing.

The men left her alone for most of the day, which was good. At midday she peeked out the curtained window and spotted them below at the front of the house, fixing the loose steps. Shirts off in the heat, Sophia admired the hard muscles of their back and shoulders. The skin, tawny and golden, nearly shimmered in the sun. The two males barely spoke as they worked in tandem, a testament to their deep partnership.

Their shirtless state also gave her a good look at their tails. She didn’t know why those things were so fascinating but she wanted to grasp each one firmly and tug, run her fingers down its length, twist her fingers in the tuft of hairs at the end. The tails came out the back of their jeans through a flap, much like the fly at the front of their pants.

Sophia licked her lips and wondered what it would be like to have the two males focusing their attention on her. Would their moves be as flawless and cooperative as when they performed simple repairs? What would it be like to have two sets of hands work on her? Hmm.

A knock on the back door broke her musing. 

Alton poked his head in. “Can I interest you in dinner?”

“It’s too hot to eat,” she said.

“You worked hard cleaning up after two slobs,” Alton said. “I figure you need a good meal.”

“Did you cook already?” No enticing aromas wafted through the house.

“Actually,” he said, leaning against the door frame, “I thought we could make it together.”

“You just want to show off,” she said, climbing to her feet.

“It’s only a meal,” Alton said. “Honest. No games.”

She followed him downstairs into the kitchen. While the men neglected cleaning the rest of the house, the kitchen was spotless. White painted cabinets lined one wall with a warm, well oiled butcher block counter. On the far wall sat a heavy wooden table with two long benches. An old fashioned stove, small counter, and the sink sat at the far end, under a large window. The kitchen was friendly and comfortable. She failed to notice that the previous morning.

Sophia peeked in the paper bag on the table, finding pasta and jar of marinara sauce. Earth food was on the menu that night.

“Did you go shopping just for me?” The shipping and tax on Earth exports had to be staggering.

“You don’t like pasta?” Alton unpacked the ingredients. Zan produced a chilled bottle of wine.

“Is there anything I need to do?” Sophia asked, watching the men work.

“Not a blessed thing,” Zan said, “except enjoy some wine. Maybe boss us around a bit. We know how you like that.” He winked.

Against her better judgment, Sophia blushed. Damn frustratingly sexy alien.

Aliens
. 

Zan opened cabinet doors, searching for wine glasses, presumably. He held up a glass jelly jar. “Are you willing to drink this fine wine out of a jelly jar? We don’t have fancy glassware.”

“I’m not particular,” she said. A glass was a glass and better than drinking straight out of the bottle.

“Jelly jars it is,” Zan said, pulling out two jars and a plastic tumbler with a winter themed penguin looking creature. If penguins were purple and green instead of black and white. He unscrewed the cap and poured out a dark red wine.

Sophia accepted a glass. The dark red wine glowed invitingly when she held it up to the light. Good clarity and a sweet, fruity scent. She and Zan clinked jelly jars. She took a sip: rich and sweet cherry flooded her mouth. Nice. “Fancy wine is lost on me,” she said.

“It’s not too fancy,” Zan said.

“It’s nice,” Sophia said, taking another sip. “I never would have figured you for a wine guy.”

Zan shrugged. “I guess we’re breaking down all sorts of stereotypes tonight, aren’t we.”

“Are we?” Sophia sat at the table and watched the men work. Alton diced and sautéed a meat that looked like chicken in a skillet. Zan boiled water for the pasta and put garlic bread in the oven. The two males were equally gorgeous and eager to please her. There were worse things.

“What kind of wine is it?” she asked.

“It’s a special brew for children,” Alton said.

Sophia choked.

“We noticed how you couldn't really handle your brew last night,” Zan said, a smirk on his lips.

“So you gave me a children’s drink? And who lets their kid drink wine?”

Alton shrugged. “It’s mostly fruit juice and water. Don’t humans let their young ones have a small glass at dinner?”

“Some places, I guess.” She still didn’t like the idea of drinking a
children’s wine
. “Next time, just let me enjoy the adult beverages with the other adults, alright?”

Zan spied her mother's painting hanging over the mantle and went into the common room.

Sophia followed him. “You don't like me do you?” she asked. “Alton likes me.”

His arms were folded behind his back as he studied the painting of the girl in the barn, but she could see his eyes flickering toward her.

“He follows his gut,” Zan said, “which is why he's got a little paunch.” Zan slapped his washboard abs for emphasis. What a liar. She saw both men without their shirts that afternoon, working in the front of the house. Both were lean and muscular without an extra ounce of fat.

“And you take your time?”

He winked. “I'm not one to brag about it.” His attention returned to the painting. “This picture is really remarkable because shadows in the foreground are technically difficult. Is this yours?”

Knowledgeable art appreciation. The alien cowboy was full of surprises.

“My mother's actually.”

“She's talented.”

Sophia nodded. Her mother had been a hobbyist painter but she wasn’t noteworthy for her painting skill. “She developed the chemical compound that binds the paint to the canvas. It’s flexible and indestructible. You can roll it up and send it across the universe and it’d come out fresh as a daisy.”

“You have insurance on it?” Zan asked.

Sophia shook her head. Derek got an estimate a few years ago. “It’s only really worth anything to an art historian or a chemistry fan.”

“But the sentimental value is priceless.”

She opened her mouth to reply when Alton called them into the kitchen. He presented her a plate of penne in marinara with chicken. The red sauce complimented her second glass of dark cherry wine. Steam curled heavily from the plate, scent buoyant. Another photo perfect meal. Alton watched her expectantly while she got a few pieces of pasta and a chunk of chicken on her fork. He held his breath while she raised the fork to her lips.

Sophia smiled. It tasted as good as it smelled. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said. “Amazing.”

“Butter and salt,” Alton said, smiling and tucking into his own plate. His tail wagged in delight.

Dinner conversation was normal bordering on mundane, the kind of things regular folk talked about at the end of the day. Alton pressed her about her impression of Corra (hot). Zan demanded to know if she planned to make the entire house smell like a flower shop (yes).

“We lost another two calves last night,” Zan said. “We need to brand them and fast.” Zan also would like to get a solid night sleep and not spend any more nights waiting for cattle rustlers. He had two young colts to break in and train and an endless amount of fence to string. The people who stole the calves did a fair amount of damage to the ranch’s fencing.

The conversation flowed easily and comfortably. She wandered into the common room and played with the media center until music poured out of crackling speakers. The sound of swinging brass instruments filled the room. The evening was all so normal, not at all like they were three strangers contractually married.

Sophia closed her eyes and swayed to the music. Alton plucked the empty jelly jar out of her hand and set it down on the mantle.

“I didn’t think the wine was so strong,” he said.

“It’s not.” It really wasn’t. Sweet and pleasantly warm, she was far from tipsy on the wine. “I’m just happy.”

Sophia opened her eyes and swung toward Alton. She placed his left hand on her waist and grabbed his right. She stepped back to the music and pulling Alton with her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his dark eyes wide.

“Don’t Corravians dance?”

“Not really.”

“Well, Terrans do. I’ll go easy on you, big boy,” she said. The music slowed and she pulled in, resting her head on his shoulder. They swayed to the gentle rhythm. They made slow progress around the room, Alton moving stiffly. He was pleasantly warm and smelled so damn nice. Actually, he smelled like dinner, which
was
very nice. Delicious, really. Alton smelled delicious. Clearly he attempted to seduce her with food.

It was working.

The tail came around and skimmed up the back of her legs.

Sophie’s eyes went wide. Alton was not relying solely on the seduction-by-food strategy.

Zan watched them from the kitchen, leaning against the doorway. His intense gaze ate them up. Her up. Not a jealous gaze, not exactly, but was possessive, like she was the greatest treasure and he didn’t want to share her with anyone else in the universe except Alton.

“How long have you fellas been a Brace? Is that the correct phrase?”

“Actually, it’s joined a Brace, but close enough,” Zan said. “We joined right after college.”

“We’ve known each other since we were children, though,” Alton added.

Sophia turned to Zan. “You went to college?” The males were full of surprises.

A smile cracked across his golden honey toned face. “Got a degree in mechanical engineering. Alton here went with agriculture and ranch management. Being nimble enough to meet market demands and remain competitive against the corporate farms just doesn’t happen by accident. You think this ranch runs itself?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Sophia said.

“I told you,” Alton said. “Fancy city girl with all her prejudice. Thinks we’re simple folks. Can’t believe a cowboy went to school.”

“I never said anything like that,” Sophia said, facing Alton. The teasing grin on his face made her pause, interrupting the torrent of angry words about to spew. He looked so damn happy.

She returned her head to his shoulder, letting him lead awkwardly. So not a dancer. She had always judged how a man would be in bed based on his dancing skills. If he could move it on the dance floor, he could move it just right between the sheets, or so she heard. It was one of those silly notions teenage girls whisper to each other and giggle, blushing at a school dance but it stuck with her.

How would Alton move? He had an easy, graceful stride, so he had that going on. And Zan? Sophia blushed, unable to fathom where to start with two men in one bed. And they were so much larger than her. Where would they find a bed big enough to accommodate all three of them? She pictured pushing together the two large beds upstairs, forming a gigantic bed. That seemed right.

And being in one bed with the two of them? That seemed really right.

“Are you two... romantic with each other?” she asked. They had two beds, not one, but she had to know. Would it make a difference? She was here for a year, regardless, but the idea that the two men would kiss her and then each other made her hot and excited.

Alton shook his head. “No. I like Zan plenty but not like that.”

“Think of it as a hobby we share, like fishing,” Zan added.

“This is nothing like fishing,” Sophia said.

“Sure it is,” he said. “Only we’re fucking.”

“Actually,” Alton said, “she’s right. It’s more like hunting.” They grinned ear to ear and gave each other a fist bump. Boys.

Sophia rolled her eyes and broke away. The slow fog of the sweet wine lifted and her mind cleared. “So you play a game of who can seduce a woman first and then what? Threesome?” Possessive jealousy flared at the idea of another woman with her men.

Alton shook his head and reached for her hand. “Lots of women like the idea of a threesome, but when you’re looking for a long term relationship the prospects dry up.”