FEARLESS: Alien Sci fi Romance (Invasive Species Control Unit Book 2) Page 7

  ‘Take your time,’ he said. ‘There are additional toiletries in the vanity unit if you need them.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  When Viktor finally left and closed the door behind him, Helen exhaled loudly. He really was a temptation. She thought about locking the door, but that implied she was still scared of him, which she wasn’t. She dithered for a few moments, but then decided to lock it anyway.

  The bathroom was as luxurious as she expected. There was a huge white bathtub that she bypassed, as it made her contemplate whether Viktor would fit inside with her. She switched on the shower and removed her clothes. She left them on the floor, and then stepped under the hot jets. She used the small bottles of shampoo and conditioner on her hair, and scrubbed her skin until she felt clean. She turned off the water and grabbed one of the gleaming white towels from the rack. They seemed new and Helen suspected she was the first person to use the guest suite.

  She found several sealed toothbrushes and tubes of toothpaste beneath the sink and cleaned her teeth. She dried herself and then slipped Viktor’s t-shirt over her head. The hem skimmed her upper thigh, which left the question of what to do about underwear.

  Now that she was clean, she didn’t want to put on her dirty bra and knickers, and as she intended to go straight to bed, she didn’t see the harm in forgoing the garments. Helen towel-dried her hair and then twisted it into a knot on top of her head. She stared at herself in the mirror, expecting to notice a difference in her reflection considering the ordeal she’d been through, but the same face greeted her as it always did.

  She sighed and decided to let Viktor know she was going to go to bed. Tomorrow they could formulate a plan of action to let Chief Melman know she wasn’t in danger anymore. She unlocked the door and opened it to find Viktor standing in the hallway. His damp hair was as dark and shiny as a raven’s wing and curled around his shoulders. He looked her up and down, and then inhaled sharply.

  ‘Oh, hi, I was just coming to find you.’

  ‘You were?’

  Helen nodded, trying to ignore the heat licking through her body at the way he was staring at her. He wore grey sweatpants, which clung to his muscular thighs and a faded black t-shirt, which clearly showed the definition of his arms.

  ‘I wanted to tell you I was going to bed,’ she said a little breathlessly and Viktor looked disappointed by her response, so she added, ‘if that’s ok with you?’

  ‘It’s still early, but you’re free to do as you choose.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave and she didn’t want to give him the impression that she wanted him to stay.

  ‘Did you want anything else?’ she asked.

  ‘Me? No. Why would you think that?’

  ‘Well you were lurking outside the door before I opened it, so I assumed-’

  ‘I wasn’t lurking,’ he cut in, but his denial was a little too strong to be believable.

  ‘Tell me what you came here for, Viktor.’

  His gaze fell to her lips.

  ‘It can wait. If you need me, I’m right next door.’

  21

  Viktor stretched out in bed and counted sixty seconds in his head. Helen was asleep in the next room and knowing she was so close, yet so far, was driving him insane. His enhanced hearing could pick out her rhythmic breathing and the steady beat of her heart. He imagined waking her up only using his tongue between her legs and his cock stiffened in anticipation. He groaned and counted another sixty seconds in an attempt to dull his desire. She’d called it right earlier – he had been lurking outside her door, trying to invent a reason to knock, but nothing good came from mixing with humans – no matter how much he wanted to.

  Viktor punched the pillow and rolled over. Any initial tiredness had faded to restless anxiety. He needed to put a plan in place to return Helen safely to her people whilst still pursuing Blake’s betrayal. He’d already spoken to several of his colony members about the clean-up operation and they’d confirmed Erik’s body hadn’t been found amongst Jared and Brandon’s remains.

  Once Viktor returned home, his guards would receive the full jaktten burial they deserved, or what was left of them at least. Viktor clenched his hands into fists as his anger sparked again. The desquamaters had never tried to breach the colony before. Their latest move was brazen and out of character, which meant they were testing the boundaries, ready for the next wave of their invasion.

  Viktor got out of bed. He rolled his shoulders and contemplated shifting forms in order to release the tension, but didn’t want to scare Helen if she woke. He left his bedroom and padded into the hallway. He rested his forehead against her door and listened for any sign to indicate she wasn’t really asleep. He fought the internal voice that told him to go inside and taste the sweetness between her legs and opened the door opposite instead.

  This was his sanctuary, and although smaller than any of the other rooms, it was where he felt most comfortable, most secluded from the noise and bedlam of a large city like London.

  Viktor secured a medium-sized blank canvas on his easel and arranged his paintbrushes on the small work station, along with the necessary tubes of paint. He had a much larger art studio at his manor house, but this room was just as well stocked. He’d only taken up painting on his father’s instruction as a way of filling his days after crashing to Earth, but found the process therapeutic.

  Viktor uncapped the first tube of paint and the scent alone calmed him. It had been months since he’d painted anything new and a familiar rush of excitement filled his body. He usually painted landscapes or constellations but tonight, Helen was the only thing on his mind.

  Viktor eventually lost himself in the task of replicating the object of his desire onto canvas, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t mix the right shade for her skin or replicate the exact blue of her eyes. He put down his paintbrush and used his hands to move the still wet paint around the canvas, blurring all the colours together until it looked like something out of a crime scene: red streaks and black smudges.

  He sighed and wiped his hands onto his chest. He needed some air. He left his art studio and headed down the spiral staircase. He opened the terrace doors and stepped into the frigid air. Although it was the early hours of the morning and the sun was yet to rise, the docklands didn’t sleep. Offices were empty, but the lights in the giant glass buildings remained on.

  Viktor inhaled deeply, picking up the taste of salt from the River Thames mixed with the harsher chemical odour of vehicle emissions, reminding him he didn’t belong here.

  In London.

  Or on Earth.

  22

  Helen woke with a start and sat bolt-upright in bed. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she recalled the nightmare she’d managed to break free from. Skin-peeling aliens had surrounded her and her cries for help had gone unanswered. Terror lodged itself in the back of her throat and she swallowed deeply. She allowed herself a few minutes to catch her breath while she regulated her heartbeat. The sun was yet to rise, but she knew she couldn’t go back to sleep after that dream, so she slipped out of bed and headed into the bathroom.

  After splashing her face with cold water and fastening her long, red hair with clips, she felt a little better. She decided to get a drink. As she unlocked the bedroom door, she poked her head around the doorframe and checked the hallway for Viktor. She couldn’t hear any noise coming from behind his closed door, so tiptoed past. She pulled the hem of the too-large T-shirt down her thighs, as she traversed the spiral staircase.

  Once inside the kitchen, Helen spotted the half-full bottle of wine from earlier, so helped herself to a glass. She savoured the dry white wine and the hints of citrus it left behind in her mouth. It was refreshing and helped calm her nerves. After the first glass, she poured another. She contemplated putting on the television but didn’t want to disturb Viktor while he slept, so took her wine out onto the terrace.

  The sliding doors were alre
ady unlocked, but she surmised that was a perk of living in the penthouse. The only criminal capable of reaching the apartment would be a parachuting one. She crossed the terrace and stood beside the railings. She drank the rest of her wine while watching the ebb and flow of the River Thames below. The twinkling lights of the neighbouring buildings reminded her of a Christmas tree.

  Although the wine had done a good job of warming her from the inside, she still shivered in the crisp, breeze.

  ‘Cold?’

  The word came from behind her and she spun around in surprise. Helen’s grip loosened on the stem of the wineglass and she watched, almost in slow-motion, as it slipped from her fingers. She closed her eyes, expecting to hear the smash of glass and feel fragments slice her bare legs, but nothing happened. She opened her eyes to find Viktor standing in front of her, holding the glass.

  ‘How did you do that?’

  ‘I’m fast.’

  ‘And naked.’

  The words slipped from her mouth as easily as the glass had slipped from her fingers, and her cheeks flamed.

  ‘I already told you that jaktten don’t like wearing clothes very much but it’s a custom we adopted early on when a few of our colony members were arrested for indecent exposure.’

  She allowed her eyes to sweep briefly over his body, which was lean and compact with muscle. He’d tied his long, dark hair away from his face and his blue eyes seemed to glow in the darkness like a predator.

  Helen cleared her throat. ‘What are you doing out here?’

  ‘I couldn’t sleep. You?’

  ‘Bad dream.’

  ‘Want to talk about it?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’d rather not.’

  ‘Do you want another drink instead?’

  ‘Yes, but I already polished off the wine. Sorry.’

  ‘That’s ok, I’ll find something else.’

  Helen shamelessly watched him as he carried her glass inside. His arse and thighs were just as muscular as the rest of him, and she felt her cheeks grow even hotter. Viktor returned carrying two shot glasses and a bottle. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he’d also slipped a pair of combat trousers on. No longer hidden by the shadows, she could see something red smeared across his chest.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Tequila.’

  ‘No, I meant the stuff on your chest. Is it blood?’

  Viktor looked down and then smiled. ‘It’s paint.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Viktor poured the amber liquid into the two glasses and handed one to her. He knocked his glass against hers, and then they simultaneously downed their shots. She gasped as the alcohol burned her stomach, but that soon gave way to warmth and her eyes watered.

  ‘Wow, I haven’t drunk tequila since my university days,’ she said. ‘Back then we used to call it lick-drink-suck.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like a drink to me.’

  ‘It’s a party game.’

  ‘Show me.’

  ‘We need salt and limes.’

  ‘No problem.’

  Viktor went inside and returned with the requested items. He placed them on the patio table and directed her towards a chair.

  ‘Show me what to do,’ he said, as he refilled both shot glasses and sat down on the chair opposite hers.

  ‘Give me your arm,’ she said and he complied. She turned it so his palm was facing upwards and lowered her head so she could lick his wrist.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked, as he jerked his arm away.

  ‘Trust me.’

  This time he didn’t flinch when her tongue swept over the sensitive underside of his wrist. She shook out the salt and took a slice of lime from the bowl.

  ‘Now you need to hold this between your teeth.’

  Helen’s fingers trembled as she placed the lime in his mouth with the flesh pointing towards her.

  ‘Now I lick-drink-suck.’

  Viktor’s blue eyes never once left hers, as she licked the salt from his wrist and then knocked back the tequila shot. She took the lime from his mouth using hers and sucked the sour flesh, before discarding the rind.

  ‘Simple as that.’

  Viktor leaned across the table and picked up the salt.

  ‘My turn,’ he said, and she tried not to squirm when he lifted her wrist to his mouth. Her body tingled, as she remembered how good his tongue had felt against her skin when he’d licked her injuries yesterday.

  At the last second, Viktor released her wrist and got up from his chair.

  ‘I think I’d like to try it somewhere different,’ he said, with unmistakeable mischief in his eyes.

  Helen picked up the slice of lime and held it between her lips, but nearly swallowed it as he got down on his knees in front of her and gripped her waist. He slowly lowered his head, and eased her thighs apart. The T-shirt didn’t provide much protection, and she felt his breath on her inner thigh and then his tongue.

  Helen almost leapt out of the chair, as she remembered she wasn’t wearing any underwear, but Viktor’s grip on her waist kept her secured in place. She dug her nails into his shoulders and suppressed a groan, as he added salt and then licked her thigh again.

  23

  Heat flared between Helen’s legs when Viktor pressed his lips against her thigh. A pulse of longing throbbed within her core so loudly that she was sure he could hear it too.

  ‘You smell so damn good,’ Viktor growled, as he stood up and tipped the shot of tequila into his mouth. He took the lime from her with just enough force for their lips to connect.

  This was dangerous ground.

  Flirting with the enemy was never wise, but somewhere over the last twenty-four hours, Helen had stopped thinking of him as an adversary.

  ‘Another?’

  Viktor’s tone held a challenge that she’d usually indulge, but she shook her head instead.

  ‘The last time I had more than two shots of tequila; I ended up running around the student bar with my knickers on my head.’

  Viktor took her hands and pulled her to her feet.

  ‘As you’re not wearing any knickers, it’s a moot point. Come on, doc. Show me how fearless you really are.’

  Helen’s face heated to the point where her cheeks actually hurt, and Viktor laughed as he pointed at his chest.

  ‘Here this time.’

  She felt another wave of desire flood her body when he took a slice of lime and placed it between his teeth. She had the choice to end the game, but she wanted to prove she was fearless to him, as much as to herself.

  ‘I think you’re enjoying this far too much.’

  Viktor beckoned her closer by curling his finger and she dutifully refilled her glass with tequila. Helen slowly licked over his right nipple, avoiding the red paint smudges on his chest. She shook out the salt and quickly licked it away. Viktor’s blue eyes darkened as he stared down at her. He tasted so good that she wished she could explore every inch of his body, but thoughts like that led to morning-after regrets, so she tipped her head back and downed the tequila shot. She stood on tiptoes to reach the lime, but just as she opened her mouth to bite down on the flesh, Viktor let it fall and kissed her instead.

  He wasn’t gentle or considerate, he was fast and persuasive and when his tongue delved inside her mouth, she tasted alcohol and lime. His hands slid beneath the hem of her T-shirt and squeezed her bare arse. When he pulled her tightly against him, she kissed him with just as much enthusiasm. Just as she was about to hook her leg around his waist, he pulled away.

  ‘I want to paint you, Helen,’ Viktor said, his voice low and husky. His bottom lip was swollen from more than just the bite she’d given him yesterday and his cheeks were flushed.

  ‘If painting is a euphemism for sex, then I think you’ve had one too many tequila shots.’

  He smiled and traced his finger under the side of her jaw.

  ‘As much as sex might ease any reservations I have about whether our species are truly compatible, I w
as talking about painting your portrait.’

  ‘Oh.’

  She pulled away from him and folded her arms across her chest in a feeble attempt to put a barrier back between them.

  ‘Will you pose for a portrait, Helen?’

  He sounded sincere and she laughed nervously.

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

  24

  ‘It’s a great idea, doc. Come with me.’

  Helen stared up at Viktor with a defiant tilt to her chin, which made his cock strain against the zipper of his trousers. He almost wished painting was a euphemism for sex, because the sudden desire to fist her red hair in his hands while he fucked her stirred his jaktten from its slumber.

  ‘I think you’re forgetting that I’m not one of your subordinates,’ she said. ‘You told me I was free to do what I wanted, when I wanted. You don’t control me.’

  She’d tried to sound self-assured, but Viktor recognised the uncertainty beneath her tone. He did control her. At least until he deemed it safe for her to leave him and return to the real world. Helen tugged at the hem of the borrowed T-shirt in an attempt to cover her upper thighs, which was futile as he already knew what she looked like beneath the cotton. He’d tasted the salt from her skin and felt her bare arse in his hands.

  ‘Are you telling me no?’

  Viktor leaned towards her and invaded her space once again. Her pale blue eyes widened, but to her credit, she stood her ground. She also didn’t say no. He could scent her arousal and it was driving him crazy. With her cheeks flushed from tequila and wearing nothing but his T-shirt, she looked sexy as hell and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  ‘I am Prince of Jakttera,’ he declared. ‘That means I get what I want, when I want it, and I want to paint you.’

  Viktor scooped her up into his arms and carried her inside his apartment, closing the patio doors behind them. He carefully climbed the spiral staircase and at the end of the corridor, he pushed open the door to his art studio with his foot.