Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Why not? It is an important skill to learn, is it not? For humans?” He looks deeply concerned. “I think he would need to know.”
“Kissing is for two adults to do between them. Not for a mother and child. Those are different kinds of kisses.” I sit up, reach out and poke him in the nose. “Silly peacock.”
He gazes down at me, his bright blue eyes blazing. “So you could show me how to kiss?”
“Uh, yeah, if I wanted to.”
“Perhaps you should. I bet you are the best at it.” His eyes gleam. “In fact, I know you are the best at it.”
I know I am, too. But even drunk, I’m a little suspicious of what seems like a great (and fun) idea. “You don’t know how to kiss?”
“I do not. I have never had the opportunity.”
My eyes go wide. “You’ve never kissed? Never ever?”
“Never.” His back goes up. “But it looks simple enough. I just don’t see how it’s pleasurable.”
“Pffft. That’s because you’re a silly peacock.”
“I don’t know what that is.” His mouth twitches with amusement. “And you are very drunk.”
“Very,” I agree, but I’m having the best time. I don’t even mind being on the beach here with him. I don’t mind that my chest is thrumming and purring desperately, or that I’m thinking all kinds of naughty things right now. I’m just enjoying the moment—the drunken, drunken moment. “So you want me to show you how to kiss?”
“Only if you want to. Only if you are suitably impressed with me as your mate. If I must work harder to win you, I understand. I should be worthy.”
He sure is talking a lot for a man that wants to kiss. I squint my eyes at him, considering, and then decide to go for it. Sitting up, I fling myself at him and wrap my arms around his neck and plant my mouth on his.
Skarr makes a choked sound of surprise, his hands going to my sides.
I bite at his lower lip, and his mouth is softer than I expected. His lips are really nice, plush and giving against mine, and it turns out that kissing him feels pretty amazing after all. I brush my mouth against his and moan, because it feels so good. My fingers twine in his silky hair, and when he groans low in his throat, I feel powerful and sexy. I stroke my tongue between his lips, teasing him, and I can feel him gasp in astonishment.
Boy, he really doesn’t know how to kiss. The realization that I’m the one that gets to show him is pretty satisfying. No one gets to kiss Skarr but me. No one gets to nibble on this pouty mouth but me, or tangle their hands into his pretty prince hair. He’s mine to play with.
And so I keep playing with him. I pour everything I’ve got into the kiss, every bit of feminine wile and excitement, and when he pulls away, gasping, I nip his lower lip again, sucking on it with a slow, deliberate release.
“That is…you are…”
“Pretty awesome,” I agree, panting. “Let’s kiss some more.”
I lean in, but Skarr tilts his head to the side. “Wait.”
That makes me pause. “Wait for what?”
“I must know.” He eyes me. “Are you kissing me because you are drunk or because you wish to teach me?”
I roll my eyes, playing with his hair a bit more. “Duh, because I’m drunk.”
His expression changes to one that is completely crestfallen. “Then I do not want it. I want you to want me.”
“You don’t want to play?” I pout at him, running my hand down his chest. “What if I touch your chest?”
“Oh, I want to play,” he says, his voice strained even as he pushes my hand away. “But you are inebriated. It is not the same.”
“What if I put my hand on your thigh?” I purr enticingly, and do just that.
He groans, closing his eyes. “I will still push you away.”
And he does.
Well now, he’s just being ridiculous and I’m still having fun. “What if I rub your cock…”
And I plant my hand between his thighs.
It’s strange, because at first, there’s nothing. It’s smooth like a Ken doll. But then, a split-second after I register this, something shoots out, like it’s emerging from his body. Oh. He must be a grower.
Then, a second bulge shoots out.
My drunken, flirty mind sobers instantly. Two bulges?
Two is not normal. I jerk away, giving him a wide-eyed look. Skarr just watches me, his eyes heavy-lidded and hungry.
I’m no longer playing, though. My brain has flipped to panic mode. He’s an alien.
Two bulges.
I scramble to my feet and run for the hills.
Chapter
Eighteen
VIVI
When I open my eyes the next morning, I have a throbbing headache and a vague memory of the night before. I’m dimly aware that after leaving Skarr’s side, I raced back to camp, threw up near someone, and then crawled into a tent and slept against someone’s feet.