Handsome Devil (20 page)

If you don't know what something means, just smile. It goes a long way.

Ah yes. I'd forgotten. I smile at the female, careful to keep my teeth hidden. I doubt anyone can see their unusual shape in this setting, but better to be cautious.

The Agmoiria turns and says something that is lost in the noise. Her eyes are bright even in the darkness, her smile open and inviting. She is enjoying herself. This pleases me.

Her free hand reaches up and brushes my lips. “Are you having fun?” I must read the message; I cannot accurately understand her in the din.

I nuzzle her fingers in response.

This was a good decision. The certainty blankets me, and I am glad I allowed Bethina to convince me to extend the invitation. I do not understand the music or the words, and the humans are too close to me for comfort, but my female appears at ease and excited. I want to see more of that from her.

There is a piercing tone that startles me, and then a feminine voice takes over from the male. I find this much more pleasing to the ear. The Agmoiria practically shivers in delight and storms towards the jumpers, towing me behind. Ah, so this is their version of dancing. It does not appear the same as it did in my research. It looks more like what my female did on the bridge the night I took her.

It is crowded but the Agmoiria pays no attention. She spins on her heel and lets me go, raising her arms above her head. She rolls her neck from side to side and turns her hip seductively.

My nostrils flare. I think I might like this experience.

She smirks up at me as she leans back, bringing her breasts up for view.

She bounces.

Not a mating dance? I begin to suspect she lied.

My female grabs my hand again. “Dance with me!”

Dance? Ah, but this is not what I practiced for. Still, there is a beat. It is very much like a drum, if digitalized, and it is loud enough to thrum in my veins if I listen to it closely enough.

She takes my hesitation for fear. Apparently she feels the need to cajole me. “It'll be fun, M'anu!”

My brow quirks and I aim a speaking look at her. She knows very well that this will not be fun. It is a teasing, torturous start to a long evening, full of arousal and anticipation, but it will not be 'fun'.

She grins. My female knows exactly what I mean, and she loves it.

Boom-ba-boom. Boom-ba-boom-ba
. I bob my head, finding the rhythm in the balls of my feet. It travels up my legs and I close my eyes, sinking in. The bobbing grows into motion, and soon I am swaying in time with the humans, my female's hand clasped in mine.
 

It's freeing. There is nothing but myself and my female carried away by the steady pat pat pat of a bass.

I open my eyes to see the Agmoiria gaping at me. Ah, did she not expect me to move?

“
M'anu,” she says. “You're good!”

Her gaze takes on that distinct cast that I am intimately familiar with. I smell her arousal like a cloud of lemony perfume in the heavy heat of the room. I almost give into the urge to grin. There is no better thing than knowing my female desires me.

I pull her close to my body, our lines flush against each other as we dance in tandem. She stares up at me with an expression that conveys multiple emotions at once: satisfaction, contentment, surprise, and a strange kind of pride.

I sway my hips. I am relaxing, thinking less, and it is a good feeling.

She closes her eyes and bares her throat. She feels safe with me.

It seems Bethina was in fact correct.

I bend and rub my face against her temple, conveying the happiness being with her engenders.

The minutes tick by in a blur. She begins to sing along to the words and I find myself doing the same, which elicits a laugh. The lyrics, if that's what they can be called, are repetitive. Hardly worth the effort of memorization, but I like the way she giggles. I soon discover that I have favorites. Earth music is growing on me.

 
One song changes into something else, but is still manageable without too much adjustment. I experiment with different poses with her, following the cue of several pairings around me. The Agmoiria is amendable. I find myself growing more and more transfixed by her heavy eyelids and languid movements. I manage to keep the urge at bay for several songs. It is on the third that I cannot take it anymore.

I bend and lock my arms around her waist. Lifting her is effortless; she throws her limbs around my neck as I straighten. She is finally eye to eye with me.

I press my forehead to hers and inhale.

Her hold tightens on me. She gazes at me warmly. I continue to sway, glad to have her closer, wrapped around my body where she belongs. All night I have seen other males watching her with interest. I know that she has noticed their regard as well. She has no shortage of partners here, yet she has never made me feel inadequate. I am not human. There are things I cannot give her or understand about that part of her heritage. Whatever doubt I had in that regard is now gone. I see that she does not care about the other males. She looks at
me
. She holds
me
.
 

She is my female.

I am her male.

That is enough.

Her small hands smooth over my cheeks and tilt. I look at her, wondering at the expression she wears. She is very serious. Is she no longer enjoying herself?

“
M'anu.” She leans in and kisses me. It is full and flush, soft and consuming. It makes me forget where I am. The music fades. My feet become glued to the floor. She turns her head to the side and slants the kiss, exploring my mouth in a leisurely, thorough fashion.

When she pulls back, I am breathless.

She puts her nose to mine. “I want to go home,” she says loudly. “I want to get these clothes off of you and show you just how much you mean to me. Then we're going to talk about buying a new ship, one that's big enough for two. What do you think?”

I smile as big as I can without alarming the natives. Think? Why would I want to think? I know.  I know that she is mine, and I am hers.

There is no reason to think.

I begin to walk from the floor, the Agmoiria still in my arms.

It is not long before we are out in the open air. It's cool and quiet, and I feel the stares of envy on my back as I stride by. I know from her positioning that she has waved over my shoulder. A curious human mannerism, but I do not mind it.

We are now in the alley and I reach for my mini transporter, intent on returning us home when she breaks in quietly. “M'anu?”

I look at her in question.

She grins wickedly. “Do you think we can leave the glasses on this time?”

I laugh.

Epilogue

It takes a lot more than poetry and promises to make a relationship work. It takes communication. It takes arguments about peanut butter sandwiches and then finding the strength to make up afterward.

 
It's going weeks without sex because of a little problem certain Ferissians develop when they don't listen to their mates about swimming in unknown waters—
ahem, M'anu
—and just cuddling despite said Ferissian's bad mood.

It's realizing that your dad will never like anybody you date, no matter what, but he'll learn how to tolerate the guy for your sake. You learn to take the fact that your blaster-toting parents don't shoot your man dead on sight as a good sign.

It's working around the fact that your fella is really grossed out by the thought of tampons and actually runs the other way when you mention having to buy them.

It's wanting to kill your beloved when they do something that hurts your feelings...but, you know, not following through.

It's a lot of different things that vary with each couple. M'anu and I are working. We really are. He can even tell me he loves me without choking on the words now. He much prefers to cat cuddle though.

As for me, I'm grateful for the weird chain of events that landed me on a white space ship with a pretty Ferissian, pink bangs and deep voice included. He was right—we suit.

It's better than poetry and promises ever were, because it's real.

We're real.

And that's all I could ever ask for.

The End

Author Biography

I'm a lifelong story teller. I've been writing romances since I was introduced to the Young Adult genre at the tender age of ten. It's a habit I've never broken.

I was born in Germany, immigrated to America with my parents when I was seven, and then went to South Korea for a year when I was 23. Now I'm back in Germany and teach English as a Foreign Language. Exposure to different cultures gave me an appreciation for language nuances. I love the emotion behind words—their ability to make a person sad, happy, angry, and relieved. Words give us clues about who someone is and what they believe in. It's a beautiful thing.

Interested in dropping me a line? Email me at:
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