Cutlass: Motor City Alien Mail Order Brides: Intergalactic Dating Agency (3 page)

A chance.

“I am Cutlass.” I moved our hands up and down, pulling her slightly closer as I did. Unable to resist. “Many greetings.”

Her deep, wide eyes stayed on mine while a lovely, darker color rose along her neck and up her cheeks. And her scent—she wasn’t just sweet, she was aroused. One touch, and I’d made her want me.

Maybe Hohddshoun wouldn’t need to die, after all.

Klow-ee pulled her lips up in a smile, her small, blunt teeth shining. Not nearly as worrisome, though, as when Ampetheia had made the same expression.

“Many greetings to you, as well.” Her words came across as a weird sort of double whisper in my ear as they were translated through my communicator core. A distracting quality, but workable. At least I could understand her.

“I am glad to be meeting you, Klow-ee,” I said, letting my voice rumble just a bit. The sound of a hunter on the prowl. “Should we get to the eating out now?”

I
nky black hair
, dark eyes, and a body that made me want to bite my fist came strolling through the door, and I was gone.

Woman down!

Christ on a cracker, the man was gorgeous. He was tall and thick, with more muscles than I knew what to do with. I mean, I knew what
I wanted
to do with them, but I wasn’t sure he’d be down for me licking all over those dips and swells. One could only dream.

Oh, my God, I’d been staring at him forever. Time to—you know—do something
.

“Hey. I’m Chloe.” Without thinking, I offered him my hand. Such a ridiculous way to start what would possibly end up in a marriage, but I didn’t know what else to do and my hand was already out there. Hanging. Waiting for him to take it or not.

He took it. He took it real good.

“I am Cutlass. Many greetings.” His words came out almost on a purr, the sound going straight to my clit. How did he do that? And could he keep doing it? Like, could I have him read the phone book while I shook and twitched and basically got off on nothing but sound? That wasn’t wrong, was it?

I grinned, unable not to with him so close. With our hands clasped together. With his warmth practically blanketing me. “Many greetings to you, as well.”

Cutlass pulled me closer, leaning over my smaller body. Jesus, he was really, really tall. My breathing sped, my heart thumping hard. I hoped something else was hard or close to it. I hoped he felt the same tingle from our hands joining that I did. I hoped—

“Should we get to the eating out now?”

Record…scratch.

I jerked back, staring up at him with what had to be a surprised expression. My damn forehead hurt from the furrowing I couldn’t seem to stop. “Excuse me?”

Cutlass looked confused in an adorable sort of way, not that I was falling for it. Not at all.

“You are my Klow-ee. Yes?”

Okay, the accent was oddly intriguing even if the
my
rubbed me the wrong way. Normally, I’d tell him I belonged to no one, but he didn’t seem to be lording anything over me.

Or at least, I hoped that wasn’t the intention behind the my.

“I
am
Chloe, but I’m not really sure about being yours yet.”

That cute, confuzzled expression deepened. “You are not the female chosen for me?”

Okay, yeah. Confused for sure
. “IDGA selected to introduce the two of us, but that doesn’t mean I’m all ‘let’s jump in the sack so you can…eat me out.’”

Though, really, I sort of wanted him to. Like…a lot. Cutlass looked like excellent one-night-stand material.

“Ampetheia matched us,” Cutlass said. “And you agreed to this meeting, but you don’t want to be eaten out? The agency said the eating you out was expected.”

I could barely speak. How did he make pervy and questioning so attractive? God, if my cheeks got any hotter, I’d explode. I wasn’t even going to think about how wet my panties were from his oddly dirty words. Nope, totally wasn’t thinking about it.

I pressed my thighs together, not thinking. “I…don’t know you.”

He hummed, and I damn near came from the sound. Holy shit, it really was hot in here. Needing a distraction, and to stop clinging to the man’s hand like some sort of koala in a tree, I rushed to the thermostat to turn the AC lower.

“Shit,” I hissed when the damn thing still wouldn’t work.

“What is shit?”

I spun, pressing my back to the wall. “It’s hot, but this thing is broken.”

Cutlass glanced from me to the thermostat before coming closer. He pursed his lips and squinted a little as he brought his hand to the broken hunk of plastic. His big hand. Those fingers were seriously long.

The scent of ozone struck me a moment before the whirring of a fan kicked on. A cold wind blew through the room, chilling me in the best possible way. Finally.

“Better?” Cutlass asked, staring down at me with a look in his eyes that made me want to melt.

“How’d you do that?”

He shrugged. “I fix things. Now, how about the eating you out?”

Eating you out.
Yeah. My panties were wet at the thought, but come on. He’d just walked in the door, and even I wasn’t that hard up.
He fixed the thermostat, too,
my inner hussy reminded me. Not that I would be listening to her. I couldn’t be all naked and spread out for him so soon.

Maybe in a few hours.

“You read my letter,” Cutlass said, still sounding as if he was somehow purring those words.

I nodded, keeping my back to the wall. Wishing there was something to hold on to so I didn’t throw myself at the poor man. “Yes. I read your letter.”

“Then you know I’m interested in the eating you out and the learning you.”

Stop. Fucking. Blushing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His brow pulled down, and his lips did this sort of pursing thing that made my knees weak. “Am I…is this not the way to woo?”

“What’s a woo?”

He huffed. “The agency said I would need to woo. Am I not doing it correctly? They told me women here liked the eating out as part of the wooing.”

Yeah, they did. They really, really did. But maybe not with a complete stranger. “Look, buddy, I don’t know who you think you are—”

He grinned, and all my words died a silent death. How was he so…pretty? “My name is Cutlass.”

Surname: Too Damn Hot For Words.

I had to bite back a return smile so we could stay on course in the conversation. One distraction, and I might do something stupid. Like jump him and let him do the eating out. My vagina could be awfully demanding at times.

I backed away, forcing myself to retreat. “Okay, Cutlass. I think we need to slow down.”

“Slow?” His measured steps as he followed me weren’t what I’d had in mind, yet I couldn’t help but enjoy the view. He was a man on a mission, a hunter stalking his prey. His prey being me, and I’d never been so happy to be hunted in my life.

“Slow,” I whispered as I bumped into the desk. Trapped…and I liked it.

Cutlass sighed, his breath making my hair flutter as he nearly surrounded me. He was so close, so ridiculously overwhelming. And hot. Gloriously, unendingly hot. Fuck, what was I running from again?

“I am trying to do the wooing,” he said, his voice doing that purring thing again. “So, if no eating you out, we could do the eating you in. The agency was clear that I should feed you.”

Feed me? As in…food? Like forks and spoons and meat of the nonsexual variety? Oh, hell. Language barrier, meet humiliating innuendo.

“Is that what you meant by…eating me out?”

A head cock…of course. “Yes. What did you think I meant?”

My cheeks burned, and my ears positively tingled. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think of a single word to say in response that wouldn’t embarrass me more.

Cutlass moved closer, staring in a way that made me want to whimper. “The
cow-lo
r rushing under your skin is attractive.”

Don’t. Jump. Him. “It’s embarrassing.”

“So, so wrong, dear Klow-ee. May I?” He held up a hand, staying an inch from my face as he asked permission. As he gave me the option to touch or not. I liked that a lot, so I nodded. Cutlass ran a single finger down my cheek in the lightest touch possible. Almost a whisper of skin on skin. I’d never known my cheek could be an erogenous zone, but it had to be because I could have sworn I felt that touch right on my clit as well.

“The flush is warm and brings added life to your skin,” Cutlass murmured, ignorant to the restraint I was showing by not attacking him like a lioness in heat. “Lovely.”

“Thank you,” I whispered as I trembled before him. He nodded, taking a single step back to give me room once more, not that I wanted him to do that.

“Let me feed you.” His demand was so soft, so quiet, there was no way I could turn him down.

“Yeah. Okay.”

That made him smile. “Eating you out or eating you in?”

Oh, hell. “Out, but here’s the thing—you can’t call it eating you out.”

“Why not? We’re eating outside of this room.”

“Yes, but eating you out has a…non-food cultural meaning.”

There was no mistaking the interest in his eyes at that statement. “What is this
mee-neng
?”

My cheeks burned again, hotter this time. I couldn’t have stopped that blush if I’d tried.

“More
cow-lor
,” Cutlass said, offering another touch of my cheek. “Whatever this eating out is, I want to speak of it often so I can see this flush on your face.”

Oh Lord, I was going to die. Implode from sexual desire, and he’d only touched my cheek. “Going out to eat. We’re
going out
to eat.”

He hummed. “Then what is eating you out?”

Hopefully, I’d get the chance to teach him that a little later. Speaking of which…

“I need to change into something a bit more comfortable before we go.”

K
low-ee had
that warm glow again as we left the hotel. The flush of her skin, the way the rush of blood darkened her neck and cheeks, was attractive, to say the least. Though I still wasn’t sure what I’d done to garner such a reaction. Something about the turn of words the translation core provided obviously excited her. I could smell it, see it, practically taste it—I just couldn’t figure out the cause of it. My translations had been off before, especially with a new language such as this Earth’s
Een-gllisch
, and the lack of proper communication could be entirely too frustrating. As it was right then.

But, really, I couldn’t complain. My cock was hard, my senses firing on full blast to monitor the lovely female at my side, and my esehhnce happy. Not yet crooning, but in tune with Klow-ee’s. This might be a good match, after all. Perhaps Hohddshoun wouldn’t need to die.

We had walked a short distance when Klow-ee turned suddenly and smiled at me with a look of joy on her face. I stood stunned for a moment, unable to pay attention to the fact that she was speaking. She took every ounce of my cognitive function away from me. Her beauty radiated in a completely arousing way. Her eyes bright and attentive, her smile wide and excited. A total trap for my senses. I wanted to stay in her presence, to absorb some of that happiness. To bask in the light of that expression.

I wanted this little human in ways that were far too carnal for being in public.

Her smile faltered, though, when I didn’t answer her. I nearly kicked myself—I’d totally lost focus and missed the conversation.

“My regrets,” I said with a small nod of my head and slight baring of my teeth. “Your smile distracted me. What did you say?”

Her head tilted, a wary sort of look in her eyes. My prey back on guard. “I asked if you liked
scee-fued
.”

The translator core worked out the unknown word in record speed, not that it helped much.
Scee-fued
didn’t quite translate. The core filled my mind with images of various sorts—from small critters with multiple legs scuttling across the ground to large creatures with no legs, black eyes, and sharp teeth. Now those intrigued me. Great beasts who ruled the waterways on this planet would be a hard-fought prey, it seemed. I understood from my cultural training that I wouldn’t necessarily be hunting my own food here, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the spoils of someone else’s hunt.

“I’m curious about this
scee-fued
,” I said. “I’ll try it.”

With a shrug of her delicate shoulder, Klow-ee led us into a building with many tables and people all around. The volume of the chatter, the press of bodies in the cramped space, made the hunter in me nervous. I inched closer to Klow-ee, wanting to hold her sweet body against me. To keep her safe amid the chaos around us. To use physical connection to ground any worries she had. But Klow-ee didn’t seem worried. She stood tall and calm in the crowd of humans. Brave, my little female was.

Looking around, I catalogued the various ways males and females interacted. All the computer-led cultural training in the world was no match for immersive education. Everywhere, couples stood together, some talking loudly while others silently looked at the communication devices they held. Still others touched and bared their teeth, obviously enjoying their partner. Those were the ones I watched the most, the ones I would imitate. They would be my teachers.

I leaned closer to Klow-ee, ready to initiate the communication required to woo, but before I could say anything, a male approached her. A human male.

“Table for two?” The male’s smile dropped when he saw me, and his steps faltered. There was even a bit of a nervous warble to his voice that denoted him as prey instead of predator. Good.

“Please,” Klow-ee
said, sounding happy and relaxed in front of this other male. Perhaps not a direct threat, then. I followed Klow-ee as the male led her across the space.

“I used to come here a lot when I was younger,” Klow-ee said as we sat at a table in the middle of the room.

“This is close to where you grew?”

“No, but my mom worked downtown, so we’d sometimes end up here on a weekend. This place was her favorite.” Her smile and her eyes dimmed. I reached across the table and grabbed her hand, ignoring Ampetheia’s advice to let her touch first. The look on Klow-ee’s face meant she needed comfort, and I would be the male to offer it.

“Why are you sad?”

She didn’t even bare her teeth at me as she wove her fingers through mine. “My mom passed away a number of years ago. It’s…still hard.”

Passed away
… The translator showed pictures of dirt and containers, which didn’t make sense. But then it showed other pictures. Ones of mourning and grief. Of fallen warriors and family. Of loss.

I knew loss well. Too well. “I am sorry your mother fell. There is no greater pain than losing someone close to you.”

Her eyes locked on mine. “You’re a kind man, Cutlass.”

I wasn’t a man at all, not in the human sense, but she would learn that soon enough.

Klow-ee ordered something called
tiil-ah-peeahh
when the human male came to the table, and I chose to order the same. The idea that this place would bring the beast to me appealed. I didn’t want to trek far from Klow-ee, but I still enjoyed the spoils of a good hunt. I’d been a machinist, a fixer, for many seasons, but I’d hunted with Hohddshoun and the others when opportunities to take a break from the ship came up. Taking down prey on the inhospitable moons of Xouthhgros had been one of my favorite things to do with the other males of my ship.

But what arrived at the table was not at all what I expected.

I scowled at the circular disk the male placed in front of me, my eyes locked on the slab of pale meat in the center. Where was the great beast? Why was this so…small?

“What’s wrong?” Klow-ee asked, holding a pronged weapon in one hand.

“Nothing.” I followed her lead again, grabbing the cold metal dagger. The translator threw Een-gllisch words at me. Apparently, the item was a
forck
. Odd word indeed.

“Do you not like it?” She used her pronged tool—her
forck
—to separate a chunk of flesh from the rest on her plate and brought it to her mouth. Aha, an eating utensil.

I stabbed the flesh with my
forck
and yanked a piece off, far less graceful than my companion. The meat was sweet and flaky against my tongue. Delicious. And without any effort expended. So odd, these humans, but so smart.

“I like it very much,” I said, going back for more pieces. “But I was just expecting something larger and with far more teeth.”

I did my best to hold in the giggle threatening to escape. The language barrier was a bit more than I’d expected, but we were getting by just fine. Except for the whole eating you out thing. Lord, I needed to get him to stop saying that before I jumped him and showed him exactly what
eating you out
meant in my sex-driven culture.

Taco Tuesday…every day.

Cutlass dove into his dinner as if he enjoyed his food, and I definitely enjoyed the view and conversation we carried on throughout the meal. Still, in the back of my mind, my thoughts spun out of control. Dirty thoughts. Horrible, naughty, perfect thoughts. Maybe Plan B was the right choice now—the old dinner, drinks, and mattress dancing. Considering how attractive Cutlass was and how charming, I figured I should at least further evaluate the option. Plan A was out for sure. He was interesting enough for me to want to get to know him. Perhaps a Plan C—dinner, drinks, mattress dancing,
and more
. Maybe. I hadn’t really been thinking of
more
, but there was no denying I felt an attraction to Cutlass. Maybe
more
was just what I needed.

I almost started to sweat again.
More
was a bit terrifying. We had two weeks to decide on the
more
. Two weeks of being in a relationship with this man didn’t seem like a hardship.

That dating agency lady would be getting a lovely letter of recommendation if
more
happened.

When dessert came, Cutlass again looked a little lost.

“What is it?” I asked as I grabbed my fork.

He frowned, peering at the dessert as if it might jump up and bite him. “I don’t know. I assumed you did.”

I’d ordered a lava cake for the two of us, all dark, gooey, and warm, with ice cream melting on top and falling over the side. He’d told me to pick. Perhaps I’d chosen wrong.

He glanced up at me, a disgusted turn to his plump lips. “Why is it this
cow-lor
?”

His accent turned the word into an interesting bastardization of itself, but I understood what he meant. Though, really, in my world, not understanding why a dessert was brown was impossible. Almost afraid of the answer, I asked a question I’d never had to ask before.

“Do you not like chocolate?”

His eyes went a little unfocused, and his brow furrowed hard. “I don’t understand. What is
chow-koe-lahte
?”

It took me a solid ten seconds of staring to realize my mouth was hanging open. Did he just… How could he… Oh, that poor, poor man.

I kept my words steady and weighted as I stated the unbelievable truth. “You don’t know chocolate.”

“No, I don’t.”

That pensive, almost disgusted look on his face just wouldn’t do. I loaded my fork with a small bite of the best parts of the dessert and held it out for him.

“Try it.”

He glanced from the fork to me, his eyes questioning. “For you, Klow-ee.”

God, I loved the way he said my name. As did my pussy, but we’d get to that later. Chocolate took priority.

I held the fork, and his eyes held mine, infusing the moment with so much more intimacy than I’d expected. This was no simple bite. Oh, no, this was foreplay. And I was definitely down for that.

Not breaking the intense stare down, Cutlass slowly opened his mouth, giving me the green light to feed him. Trusting me, even. A fact I didn’t take lightly. His tongue darted out and his lips closed around my fork, his eyes still on mine. That intensity almost a physical thing. Intimate? Feeding him was downright sexual.

Cutlass held that searing look for about half a second once the dessert hit his tongue, but even he was no match for the angel that was chocolate. I could see the moment he registered the flavor. He closed his eyes as he chewed, moaning in pleasure.

Oh, holy hell.

“I like the feel of this on my tongue,” he murmured, looking at the dessert plate with far more interest than before. And me? I had pretty much jumped into the “screw dessert, let’s go back to the room” camp for the first time in my life. My legs shook and my body burned as I watched him. Jesus, I was going to implode from sexual desire, and all he’d done was try chocolate for the first time.

“Yes,” I said, trying—and probably failing—to keep my voice steady and free from that lovely phone-sex vibe I knew would come out if I talked while aroused. “It’s my favorite.”

“It’s mine as well.”

I grinned at his almost boyish excitement. Couldn’t help myself. Now if only I could get my thoughts back into the PG arena.

A
fter dinner
and the sexiest dessert-sharing incident known to man, Cutlass once again proved the cultural differences between us were greater than just a few misspoken words.

“You need to write in the tip and sign, sir.”

Cutlass held the pen in his fist, like a weapon of some sort. “I apologize. I’m not fluent in your currency exchanges. Tip?”

The waiter damn near rolled his eyes, a fact that didn’t escape my notice. “Just sign on the line. The bill is being taken care of by an IGDA Corporation, but you have to decide the tip and approve the expense.”

Cutlass huffed, the sound a little deeper than expected. A little almost growly. God, that was hot.

“Does
he
have to sign, or can I?” I asked, already irritated with the guy hovering over Cutlass like some sort of watchdog.

“No, not him specific—”

“Great.” I grabbed the folio and pen from Cutlass, smiling to let him know I wasn’t mad. At least, not at him. “I’ll deal with this.”

Cutlass grunted and eyed the waiter hard, shooting daggers with a look. Also hot. Of course, everything about this man seemed to turn me on. It was as if I’d been given some sort of aphrodisiac along the way to the restaurant. Or I’d gone too long without sex and was ravenous for a little smack and tickle.

Probably the second.

I signed the bill with a flourish, putting my
fuck-you-asshole
in the curves of my name since I couldn’t say them. Well, I could, but that would be rude. What wasn’t rude was giving the guy a 10 percent tip. As a waitress, I tended to tip higher than most people because I knew how much the job sucked. But really, all the guy had to do was be nice. He’d failed when dealing with my date. No big tip for him.

“All set,” I said, smiling up at the waiter and handing him the closed folio. “You have a nice night now.”

He startled as if not expecting that. “You both as well.”

As soon as the guy disappeared across the room, I sighed. “Let’s go before he sees what I tipped him.”

“Why?” Cutlass stood and offered a hand to help me up. Such a gentleman.

“It’s no big deal, but I only tipped him 10 percent. He seems like the type to confront me about that.”

Cutlass moved to my shoulder, shooting a scowl across the crowded restaurant to where the waiter stood at a service station. “He won’t get close to you. But I need you to explain what a tip is.”

My God, he smelled good. I sort of wanted to roll around in that scent. And I might…later. Wait, what was the question?

“Um…oh, right. Tip. It’s like a bonus? You give servers a little extra for doing a good job.”

“And you gave him extra of your monies?”

“Technically, I didn’t, the IGDA did. But, yes.”

Cutlass huffed that growly sound again, sending a shiver straight down my spine. “He didn’t deserve it. I would have given you just the tip instead.”