Star Bright (Big Sky Alien Mail Order Brides #22)

Chapter 14

When the second orgasm seized her, it was almost too much. Not because she wanted less, but because she suddenly wanted more.

This was supposed to be just right now , not ‘and how about some more too’.

As their gusting breaths eased and Vash’s lax weight crushed her into the cushy bed, the thought of more seemed fraught. She’d run away to Big Sky Country with her heart bruised; did she really want it blown into orbit and obliterated instead?

Without her conscious will, her fingers skimmed up over his thick waist and traced across the muscles in his shoulders. Still partially flexed, she realized, as he was holding himself just enough to not smother her.

Not enough to give her room to wriggle out though. Some uncivilized part of her loved her pillow fort of protective drakling male.

But pillow forts were always meant to be temporary, just a night of fun.

That thought only made her want to clench him tighter, even though there was no contract between them and their compatibility was questionable at best.

Apparently mistaking her movement for suffocation, he shifted, pulling her with him, still intimately connected. Normally any pressure or friction would’ve overwhelmed her hypersensitized clitoris, but he fit her so perfectly that the aftershocks just kept gently rolling out from her core as they rested side by side.

She must’ve dozed off for a minute—or maybe more—but she roused enough for a mumbled complaint when he eased away. He kissed her, which stopped the mumbling, then leaned back, brushing the tangle of hair from her forehead.

“Be right back,” he whispered.

Before she could gather herself—she needed to start reinforcing her own emotional fortifications without him—he returned from the bathroom with a warm handcloth.

“Oh, you don’t have to…” She closed her eyes as he tucked a hand between her knees and butterflied her legs. Since she’d planned on solo petsitting, she hadn’t done any special maintenance down there—meaning anywhere between her ankles and neck.

When he made a garbled little noise, she flushed and tried to squeeze her knees back together.

He paused. “Do you not like?”

“It’s not that. I just… Really, it’s not necessary.”

“What does necessary have to do with it? But I will stop if you’d prefer.”

“I’d prefer…” The heat in her face was rushing back down from neck to ankles—but mostly pooling where his big hand lingered.

The rings of fire in his eyes flared. “Yes?”

“That you’d use your tongue.”

He bared his teeth. “Ah. Practicing our universal translations.”

Not that she’d been thinking of this potential since she’d watched him devour the whipped cream, but…

Without hesitation, he settled between her spread legs, urging them wider. His tongue found the soft, swollen bud of her clit, but he didn’t attack as she half feared. Instead he teased and cajoled, puffing soft breaths into the still simmering embers of her orgasm, fanning them to higher flames. She clutched his shoulders, her fingers digging too tight, though she knew she should match his gentleness, but he seemed to understand her needs, though she wasn’t helping him with the helpless mewling sounds spilling from her lips.

When he’d roused her to the very pinnacle, he entered her again, and her orgasm this time was a slow-motion explosion that spiraled out on every nerve ending. Even as she came slowly down, she knew she must be glowing.

The washcloth wasn’t even cool yet as he laved her a second time. He snugged her up close against him, tucked with her head on his shoulder, and they’d messed up her bed enough that he was easily able to put the bedspread over them. In that sheltering warmth, she should have passed out immediately. Instead she tilted her head just enough to gaze up at his profile. He too was looking up at the window arched above them.

“It’s snowing again,” he murmured. His gaze drifted down to her even more slowly. “So pretty.” He kissed her.

Was he still talking about the snow? Not that it mattered, of course. She didn’t need the words in any language when he showed with his actions how much he cared. And what did it matter if draklings found Earthers pretty when they had wings and tongues…

And children who were still dealing with the aftermath of grief.

Right here, that wasn’t an issue, she reminded herself. Even parents and petsitters could get a night off if their charges were otherwise occupied and attended to. Somewhere beyond the view from her room, the security lights that she now knew helped protect the outpost from accidental discovery by oblivious closed worlders turned the snow to silver sparkles.

“By the way, that was amazing,” she told him. “I feel like I got a Christmas gift early.”

“I think I had forgotten this part of myself for a while. Such decadence feels very much like a holiday to me too.”

“With this heavy snow on top of the regular interference, I’m not sure if we’ll get a message from the rescue team before they arrive. So I guess we can stretch this holiday out a little longer.”

“Is there anything you need to do before then?” He peered down at her, a sly glint in his gray eyes. “Other than me?”

She slapped his chest lightly even as she blushed again. “You know, you can really only open a gift once.”

“It’s already been three times,” he said with high-handed arrogance that made her want to challenge him to a fourth—and a fifth, and maybe forever…

As if he heard her, though she was very careful to not let even her expression give away such an impossible thought, he added, “The beast teaches us never to take our path for granted, to always seek the experience with senses alive. Because every wind blows anew.”

Gazing up at him, she bit her lip. She hesitated before asking, but for some reason she wanted to know. “In the handbook, it says draklings mate for life. Losing that sort of promised connection must be terrible.”

He tugged her a little closer, brushing his lips across her brow. “When the beast claims its mate, it is a pledge of the body and the heart. In the same way that I and the beast are one, our mate becomes another facet of our soul. Not just a lover and companion, but a source of joy and energy like the sun gives light that warms the very mountains and powers the winds that carry us through our lives. Even after death, the facet remains, a prize that perhaps we can no longer touch but will always treasure.” He put a little space between them to look down at her more fully. “The IDA handbook about Earthers says that you too often make such pledges but the bioelechemical connection is not necessarily so instinctual or perpetual.”

She bit her lip, remembering how Christopher informed her she was no longer invited to the destination holiday wedding —but she should pack her bags too, to move out of their apartment. “I think some of us love the idea of a love so absolute and enduring. But our version is sometimes more a hope and a prayer and maybe a legal document or two.”

“Perhaps that is even more of a gift then: to have no imperative and yet seek such a connection anyway. With no beast to hunt for you, it is all the more special when you finally find it.”

She dredged up a smile. “I suppose the Intergalactic Dating Agency has to balance a lot of factors to find compatible mates.”

“So says the handbook,” he mused. “I guess you should read the whole thing now.”

“I think I will. The friend who gave me the temporary job here is basically the chief misinformation officer for the Big Sky IDA, and she told me she’d already begun the initial vetting process to see if I might be a candidate for joining the organization.” She wrinkled her nose. “From what I can tell, the first criteria is whether you can keep your mouth shut with the unspoken corollary being do you have someone you would want to tell. And I don’t so…”

His arm tightened around her, not much, but she felt it. “That Earther male was a fool to let you get away. But his loss is the universe’s gain—and all the lonely souls you will help.”

On the one hand, she appreciated his confidence boost. On the other, he was basically reminding her that this was one night only. Which she’d known, and told herself, and been utterly fine with. And yet…

She couldn’t keep going down that path.

“After this surprise unpaid internship dealing with a certain drakling mishap, I think there’s a decent chance I could find a place here.”

“I’m not sure an endorsement from the hundred-years-late contract that crashed into their front lawn will help your case,” he said. “But you have my good word if you want.”

“Well, I’m not sure I want them to know that I give this kind of welcome and comfort,” she said tartly as she boosted herself over him.

She’d meant her comment as a tease, but even to her own ears it sounded sharper than she intended. He gazed up at her, the rings of fire in his eyes banked at the moment, though she caught a glimpse of their spark. “Darcy,” he said softly.

Rather than hear what he had to say—in any language—she kissed him with enough perfunctory finality to let him know she wasn’t looking for more.

And just enough tongue to make him hopefully regret.

When she lifted her head, she was breathing a little bit hard and regretting her moment of vengeance, that he didn’t even deserve. “You should probably be getting back to your kids,” she said. “Not that Kong would be neglectful, but I’m not sure babysitting is part of his programming.”

Vash traced a finger over her temple, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear but didn’t try to argue, for which she told herself she was grateful. She was better as the dumpee than the dumper.

He rose and dressed, and maybe it was just her imagination that he lingered longer at the stage than in getting undressed. She did the same, anticipating that she wouldn’t want to be clutching a blanket to her still tender breasts while he walked out the door.

She hovered awkwardly halfway between the bed and the door while he sealed his tunic all the way up to his throat. Maybe she wasn’t the only one feeling a little vulnerable in the aftermath.

But he turned to her with an easy smile—which she immediately knew was fake considering that draklings didn’t really have that same expression. He was just doing it to make her feel okay, just as he’d made her come first and second and third.

If he shook her hand like this was an outgoing interview…

But he walked right up to her, his toes touching hers since his boots were still by the door. Even that nonsensical contact sent a ridiculous thrill through her. She bit her tongue, afraid of saying something too revealing, and he reached out to loop an arm at the small of her back. He reeled her closer, and when she let out a little gasp, he bent her over his arm and kissed her, hard. He kept his tongue to himself, but the scent of him—of them, together—was like another wine swirling in her head, as nameless as the one she’d had earlier, but some precious vintage she knew she should’ve savored more.

She clung to him, just for a moment, but when he stepped back, she did the same.

“Good night, Darcy,” he said.

“Good night, Vash.”

She wondered if either of them would sleep, and if they did, she suspected their dreams would be of flying.

+ + +

The next morning, she cobbled together a breakfast out of the mini kitchenette in her room rather than face Vash with his children watching. As she was reading through the general operations manual that Ug had given her, her datpad dinged. Yeah, she was getting the hang of this job. There was a weather report, a facilities update—and a message from Vash.

She hesitated before touching it. It was his face and voice, recorded just a little earlier. “After breakfast we are going to the gymnasium. We wondered if you would like to join us.” He glanced away, although she couldn’t see if he was looking at anything in particular. “Yadira mentioned wanting to try the wall again, and she wondered if you would climb with her. Although she very much understands if you’d rather not, as do I.” The message froze without him looking back at her.

When she hovered one fingertip over the screen as if she might touch his lips, the screen went dark.

She shouldn’t go. There were entanglements happening that weren’t necessary, and could only get messier. But she needed to tell him that a wing of guestrooms had unlocked after the cleaning cycle, so he and the children could move into real rooms. Of course she could just message him, she told herself.

Meanwhile, her feet were carrying her through the empty corridors of the outpost to the gymnasium.

She heard Atsu before she saw them. The little drakling was scaling the climbing wall with his sister on belay, with Vash watching behind her.

“Stick to your route,” he told his son. “When your arms are longer, you can reach for the farther holds.”

The little boy chuffed over his shoulder with drakling laughter. “You would catch me.”

“I would,” his father agreed. “But if you stay on course I won’t have to.”

The little drakling made it to the top on the easy route and rang the bell while shouting his glee. His sister stood with her hand hovering near the safety mechanism as he descended.

It wasn’t until both his feet were back on the ground that Darcy let out a short breath.

Vash arrowed a glance at her, but she realized that he’d known she was there.

“Good morning, Darcy,” he said, very properly.

“Good morning, Vash,” she replied as if they hadn’t just recently said the opposite under much more intimate circumstances. “Good morning, Yadira and Atsu. How was your breakfast?”

Atsu shimmied out of his harness and ran to her. “Have you ever eaten a berry tart?”

“I have. Did you like it?”

“I liked them all!”

She blinked. “No wonder you climbed so fast.”

“Addah made me save one. For you.” His bright green eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you have breakfast with us? I thought you were our friend here on Earth.”

“I had to work,” she explained. “But I’m here now.”

He narrowed his eyes another degree, making him look like a suspicious little old man. And she suddenly remembered reading about draklings’ keen sense of smell. She’d showered this morning, and she hoped that Vash had done the same before his children literally caught wind of what they’d been up to last night. How mortifying.

But Yadira, hanging back by the safety rope, didn’t seem to question the situation. She just toyed with the harness Atsu had left behind. Darcy smiled at her. “Since your brother has shown me the route to the top, are you ready to belay me?”

The girl nodded, refreshed ringlets bouncing around her shoulders. “I won’t let you down,” she promised. She tried out a careful Earther smile. “I mean, literally I won’t.”

While Atsu pointed out every single handhold and foothold he’d used, Vash resized the harness for Darcy. His hands on her hips were completely appropriate, but when he buckled the helmet under her chin, the brush of his knuckles across her jaw reminded her how he’d framed her face for a kiss, and then her mind whirled off to all the other things he’d done last night…

No, she could not let her body betray her, not to the children, not to him either. The outpost’s real staff were on their way, and if she wanted a job here—and not have her memories wiped—she needed to show at least a bit of decorum and professionalism.

So she held herself very still until he stepped back, with just the barest flicker in his fire-free eyes. Was he trying to hide his feelings too?

“Addah, you should race her to the top,” Atsu said. “You could do the hard route, using only use one hand instead of two.”

Those gray eyes searched hers another moment before he stepped back with a grunt for his child. “And you will belay me?”

So the two of them squared off to the wall, the children calling encouraging comments to their teammates and good-natured insults across the wall.

“It’s not really a race,” Vash murmured to her very quietly.

“Whoever wins gets the last tart,” she challenged. “Assuming there are any left.”

The rings of fire were back. “May the best planet win.”

He cheated, she knew that, because even with just one hand on the hard route, he was so strong and dexterous. And he didn’t even really have to worry about falling. But at the last moment, just as he was about to reach for the bell with his “good” hand, his foot slipped. The safety mechanism caught him at once, and everyone cheered as Darcy rang the bell.

She quickly checked Yadira’s expression, worried that the fall might’ve troubled the girl again, but she was just chuffing at her father and gave Darcy a shoulder bump. “You did it! We won.”

Darcy ended up dividing the tart carefully into quarters so everyone could share.

“What next?” Atsu asked.

“No more tarts,” Vash said.

“I mean for fun.” The boy bounced toward the window of the lobby. “I want to go outside again. It’s been snowing all morning so it’s even deeper. Maybe it will fall so deep we’ll get stuck here and have to stay forever and only eat tarts and drink cocoa.”

“I actually came to tell you the guest wing has reopened,” Darcy said with a glance at Vash. “Why don’t you pick out some rooms, and while you get settled, I’ll see what other games are available. Then we can go outside after lunch.”

Atsu took her hand. “Do you promise? You won’t forget?”

“As long as your father approves.” She forced herself to keep her expression neutral as she looked at Vash again.

He licked a berry stain off his thumb—slower than seemed necessary—and gave her a slow blink. “We’ve liked all your games.”

Ooh, he deserved a bite for that look.

Ug led the draklings to the unlocked wing while Darcy met up with Kong to check storage. The cross-country skis and ice skates would be too large for Atsu, and both required more coordination than she or the restless little boy would enjoy. And while she could imagine how an ice fishing tent might be a cozy spot for a romantic interlude, that didn’t seem right either. She thought for a moment. “Can we appropriate the 3D printers in the garage for a quick project? It’s a very simple shape.”

The robot plugged its extension cord into the storage room outlet. “According to the hangar auto system, the repairs to the drakling ship are nearly complete. What would you like to fabricate?”

After a quick lunch where Atsu downed the vegetables as enthusiastically as he had decimated the tarts, they borrowed the hover cart, dressed warmly, and drove out to the garage.

The printed discs that she handed to them still felt a little warm, but by the time she led them out to the nearby hill, they had cooled.

“This is sledding,” Darcy informed them. She took a short run across the crest of the hill bellyflopped onto her disk, and whooped louder than Atsu as she rocketed away.

Admittedly, it had been long time since she tried this, and as the disk spun out of control, she caught a glimpse of the three draklings in close pursuit, with much more whooping all around.

Another spin faced her toward Vash, whose heavier weight increased his speed.

“Where are the controls?” he shouted. “How do we steer?”

“No controls,” she yelled back. “No steering. Just fun!”

And then he crashed into her.

As crashes went, it was gentle enough. Plus, he caught her around the middle, cushioning her fall with his own body. They rolled once, limbs entangled, and all the breath left her. Not from the impact or even from laughing, just overcome by the wild sensations of soft, cold snow and his hard, hot embrace. When they came to rest—with her on top again—she rested on his chest for a moment before lifting herself to gaze down into his fire-sparked eyes.

“You okay?” he murmured.

Was she? But she nodded because the kids were already hustling up, hauling the runaway sleds and babbling about how they all had to go again. When Vash helped her up and brushed the snow from her backside, she just laughed and nudged him away. But she saw Yadira watching them through narrowed green eyes.

Maybe a bit of control was a good idea.

At the end, they were even colder and wetter than after the snowball fight, but Kong had cocoa and cider waiting for them.

“This is the happiest they’ve been long time,” Vash murmured. “The happiest I’ve been. Because of you.”

Darcy kept her nose in her mug, hoping to disguise her blush with the heat of the steaming tea she’d chosen. “If not for you three, I think I would’ve had the saddest Christmas ever.”

That evening, they gathered around the fireplace, pleasantly tired. Too tired to dismantle the pillow forts, although Darcy knew that had to happen soon. Just not quite yet. “How about some music?”

“Christmas carols?” Yadira looked up. “I was reading about them. I like to sing.”

“I sound like a yowling larf,” Atsu said. “But I like music too.”

With Ug’s help, Darcy poked through the outpost’s music library. She paused at some exceedingly unfamiliar options, but she decided that would be for her own education at another time—along with a quick search on larfs—and queued up the classics.

Yadira sat attentively, head tilted to one side, and was humming along after the first few bars. Atsu sprawled at her feet, eyes half closed. But when it got to “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”, the boy rolled over to look at Darcy. “Who is this Santa Claus?”

Before Darcy could explain, Yadira answered, “He’s a jolly old elf who dictates the distribution of Christmas gifts on this planet based on a binary distribution model of naughty and nice. Didn’t you listen to the lyrics of the other songs?”

“But why is Mommy kissing him?”

The teen rolled her eyes, which needed no translation. “Because there was mistletoe.”

Vash grumbled under his breath. “According to local Earther dating rules, unless otherwise stated, a match that results in marriage is considered an exclusive contract.”

Darcy put a fingertip over her lips to stop herself from grinning at the disgruntled note in his voice. “It’s meant as a joking song. In some families, it is the eldest male who disguises himself to perform Santa-related chores.”

“Ah. So the titular Mommy is actually kissing her mate, but her offspring is confused.” He crossed his arms. “Such deception does not seem conducive to familial harmony.”

“Well, as much as people love holidays, there are also a lot of stresses,” she mused. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s not,” he said in a clipped tone. “The mate bond is a precious gift, not a joke.”

She gazed at him, wondering. Was he feeling bad about last night? That he’d betrayed his bond? But he had chosen to sign a contract with the IDA.

So maybe his complaint was just with her.

Maybe a match was more than complicated. Maybe it was impossible.