“Bad monkeys,” I scold Plague and Pestilence, scratching their warm furry heads. They squeak in approval, turning into my hand and demanding more petting. “Look at the mess you made,” I murmur, rubbing their warm cheeks with the back of my knuckles. “It’s a good thing the vase didn’t break. You don’t want glass fragments in your feet, do you? No, you don’t. Silly floofs.”
Plague rolls over on her back, her six little legs waving in ecstasy. I don’t actually know if the floofs are male or female, or even have a gender, but a lifetime of social conditioning has me equating pink with girl. Pestilence curls up into a tighter ball, an arm over her face, and settles in for a nap. “That’s right,” I tell her. “You’ve explored the house, you’ve broken a vase, and you’ve got pink fur all over the bedspread. It’s obviously time for a nap.” With difficulty, I pull away from the warm creatures. I pick up the flowers from the floor, right the vase, fill it with water from the refresher, and set the blossoms back in it. Then I start to unpack. I shake out my dresses and hang them up, then set the folded blouses and pants on shelves, all while dodging Pumpkin, who has decided that the best way to help is by weaving in and out of my feet.
The bedroom has a door set in the back wall. It’s shut, which means that’s where Danek is comming his brothers.
My mind wanders as I arrange my clothing in the mirrored closet. I had been terrified when Danek had lost consciousness. Panic had engulfed me, and I hadn’t been able to stay at Danek’s side. Seeing him in the healing tank had brought back a rush of horrible memories. I’d barely managed to talk to the scientist without succumbing to my fear.
Despite all that, I’d made a decision in the hospital. I’d resolved to sleep with him. And now, I’m standing in what’s going to be our bedroom for the next three months, and only a thin door separates Danek and me.
Suddenly, I hear his voice from the other side of the wall. “I promised him that I would be the Draekon Warlord,” he grits out. The words cut out abruptly, a wall of silence slamming down.
Warlord? What?
His voice is audible again. “They were counting on me.” I’ve never heard him sound so raw, so broken. So anguished. The Danek I know is always calm and in control. But the man I hear is anything but that.
“I failed them. Because of me, they were all slaughtered.”
His voice fades away as he reenters the cone of silence. I go still, trying to process what I’ve inadvertently overheard. What is Danek talking about? Did someone die recently, or is this part of his past? He doesn’t talk about himself much. No, correction: he doesn’t talk about himself at all.
He rescued me from the scientists. For a month, he sat in my hospital room, a steady, healing presence. I wouldn’t be here without him. I doubt I’d still be alive.
He sounds anguished. I ache to comfort him. I have to dig my nails into my palms to keep silent, to prevent myself from rushing out there and wrapping my arms around him. In the dark times, he was there for me, and I need to return the favor.
He’s not looking for comfort. Not from you.
As much as I try to let it not bother me, that thought stings. You’re being ridiculous, I scold myself. You need to count your blessings. Danek is alive and safe. He appears to desire you. If you want him, chances are that all you have to do is ask. The sex will probably be off-the-charts good, because it’s been forever since penis-in-vagina, and you probably have cobwebs down there.
And if I can’t have the other things I crave—intimacy, togetherness, and love—so be it. I am luckier than many; I found love once with Will. Nobody is owed a second chance. Wanting it all just makes me greedy.
I’m almost done unpacking. I pull out the last item. It’s the stupid purple lingerie, the one I shoved into my bag at the last minute. I should have been more careful with it—the soft gossamer fabric is badly wrinkled. I shake it out, wondering if there’s a way to iron out the creases.
Just then, the door opens, and Danek steps into the bedroom. He looks at the center of the bed, where the floofs have made a nest, and he shakes his head. “If those creatures walk on my face in the middle of the night...” he begins.
And then he catches sight of the silky lingerie in my hands.
Now or never, Naomi.
My skin erupts in goosebumps. He notices.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I have a problem,” I whisper.
“You do?”
I hold out the filmy garment. “You never did show me how to wear it.”
His gaze drags over me, slow and deliberate. “I would hate for there to be a misunderstanding between us,” he murmurs. “What exactly do you want, Naomi?”
Argh. He’s not going to make this easy, is he? You can do this, Naomi. It’s not like you’ve never hit on a guy before. “I’m inviting you to have sex with me. If you want, that is.”
His eyes flare with desire. “I definitely want that.” He slowly closes the distance between us and takes the lingerie. I expect him to toss it on the floor. Instead he holds it up, the silky fabric looking flimsy in his big hands. “Take off your shirt.”
“Okay.” So we are doing the lingerie thing. I hesitate with my fingers curled around the hem of my shirt. “You’ll show me how to put it on?”
“Oh yes.” He leans close, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I’m going to put it on, and then I’m going to rip it off.”
Oh my.
I tug my shirt off. He looks me up and down.
“You like?” I try to
