The Arrogant Genius (The Lost Planet 8) - Page 19

She laughs, tears once again forming. “Really?”

“I want to make a list of all the ways our mortling will be the best. Perhaps he’ll become the next doctor. Do you think, mate, that he would want to be like his mother and father, healing those around him?”

“You’re getting better. I can tell,” she says, ignoring my questions. “The arrogant genius is ready to make a list of all the reasons why he’s the best mort to ever live. That’s the old Av I know and love.”

It isn’t until she utters the last part that her amusement fades.

She can’t take it back now.

It’s been said. I heard it. I feel it in my heart.

“Of course I’ll get better. The head doctor—the queen—healed me,” I tease. “She’s pretty mean and stubborn, which means she always gets her way.”

A sob escapes her as she presses her lips to mine and then she laughs through her tears. “I fucking hate you.”

I smile because her lies are filled with love.

She’s my mate and she can’t undo it now.

Determination trickles through me, chasing away the weakness. Clarity begins to wade through my murky mind. The cogs inside me turn as I consider possible immunization methods for aliens, morts, and our darling hybrid mortlings.

Because, with each passing moment, I realize this is going to work.

We’ve found a cure.

7

Zoe

Two Solars Until Kevins Arrive…

“One more,” Avrell coaxes. “Please?”

He gazes up at me with fathomless eyes and I melt a little. But just a little.

I take a step away before he can snag a claw in my suit. There’s no way I’m letting him charm me into forgetting my agenda…again. “Uh-uh, I don’t think so. You’ve already had more than I said. Besides, if we keep this up, we’ll never get anything done.”

Avrell throws himself back against his pillows. “Get what done? I can’t do anything. I’m stuck here in this rekking bed for solars on end. If the Rades hasn’t kill me yet, boredom certainly will.”

“So I make you bored now?” I tease. The insufferable brute. Before he got sick, teasing Avrell never would have crossed my mind, but it comes natural now. As naturally as breathing.

He reaches out a claw again, but I evade him and he scowls deeply. “You could never make me bored, my stormy mate. You’re too rekking contrary.”

“I’m too contrary?”

“If you’re not, then you’ll give me another kiss before you go.”

I’d let him talk me into trading kisses for bites of meat and sips of water throughout the morning. If I’m being honest, it didn’t take much convincing. All I can think about in between bouts of fear for his well-being is how I’ll pay him back once he’s better. The sexual torture I’m imagining putting him through will be nothing compared to the sexy as hell hand job.

I feel no sympathy. He deserves every beleaguered orgasm I’ll wring from him until I feel he’s paid enough for putting us both through the agony of worry we’ve suffered the past few days.

“No more kisses for you. You’ve had enough.” I lean closer to hand him a final bite of meat—Julie and I hacked through the rest of the carcass to freeze what we could. It made a bitch of a mess and I’d gotten little to no sleep as the butchering and subsequent cleanup took most of the night.

His arm whips out faster than I calculated, and he wraps a hand around my wrist, a shockingly strong hand. A strangled sound of surprise bubbles up in my throat as he tugs against my resistance, pulling me atop him in his cot. He’s warm to the touch, but only just. It’s enough that I feel him all the way through my suit, but not as hot as he’d been the day before.

I try to focus on his symptoms—clearing eyes, steady pulse—but a firm hand passing over my back and ass distracts me. “There will never be enough kisses from you, sweet mate. Give me another taste of your mouth.” It’s not a request.

“You promised you’d get some rest,” I evade. I know if I let him kiss me again, I won’t want to stop and we both have things we need to do. Julie and I are supposed to administer meat rations to the rest of the patients and Avrell—much as he protests—needs his rest.

“And I will. But I need my medicine first.”

His claws move to the back of my head and I offer no more resistance as he urges me forward. I’m all bark and no bite at this point. Our lips meet and he sighs against my mouth as though tasting me brings him immeasurable pleasure. And maybe it does. He says it does, but a part of me, the part who has been alone for so long, has trouble believing in the certainty of forevers.

Tags: K. Webster The Lost Planet Fantasy
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