The Abduction (17 page)

She glanced over the tiled island countertop to the living room, and froze when she saw the couch was empty.
Her heart flipped.

“Rikist?”

No answer.

“Oh, shit.”

She stepped over the bags and ran into the living room, and then down the hall. She opened doors to the closets and hall bathroom as she passed, hoping to catch a glance of the absent alien. She poked her head into the guest bedroom, and then spun in the hall to push open the door to the master bedroom.

“Rikist, where—”

Rikist looked up from where he sat on her bed. He looked worn and sweat speckled his brow and temples. He had several of the photo books that she kept stacked on her dresser open on his lap. He smiled at her and held up a photo from when she was a child on a tricycle.

“This is you?” he asked, as he looked between the photo and the scowling Samantha to compare.

Samantha stormed up to him. She snatched the photo away and collected the albums. “Don’t you understand the meaning of privacy? You can’t just waltz into someone’s house and go through their stuff—”

“I did not…
wallzs
, you brought me here,” he said. “And the books were in the open.”

“It doesn’t matter…”

“This though,” he shot her a mischievous grin and pulled an open hat box from behind him and set it on his lap. “I found by the bed.”

Samantha’s jaw dropped, and she felt her knees go weak. She swallowed and closed her eyes. “That is, um… that’s personal…”

His eyes glinted with humor, and his dimples dotted his cheeks as his smile spread. “I have not seen things like these before, but I can imagine their purpose.”

Samantha cleared her throat and
reached out to jerk the box away, though his hands held the box firmly against his lap. She glanced down at the assortment of flavored lubes and dildos as she shoved the lid back on, her face burning with embarrassment. She grit her teeth and glared up at him.

“Let go.”

“Who is the male beside the bed?”

Samantha glanced past Rikist to the framed photograph of her and
John on the deck of a cruise ship. They had taken the picture night he’d proposed.

“No one…” She looked away. “My ex.
He’s a veterinarian in town. We were… supposed to get married. You know… be mates.”

The color in Rikist’s cheeks deepened.
“Why did you not?”

“Because he was a
jerk who didn’t respect me or my personal space!”

Rikist
released the box. Samantha cursed under her breath and shoved the box under the bed and crossed her arms. She tightened her jaw; unsure why she suddenly felt ashamed for still having John’s picture. She glanced at Rikist, who sat glaring at the photo.

“Listen,
” she said. “You can’t go through my things.”

“Fine.”

“Because it’s not…” she paused. “Fine? Just like that?”

He nodded
, looking toward the door. “I was bored. And hungry.”

Samantha closed her eyes and counted to ten. “Well I just brought back enough food to feed an army, so that won’t be a problem
any more.”

Rikist
pushed himself to his feet, wobbled, and then limped toward the door. Samantha caught his arm as he teetered, and held him still. His eyes rolled and he blinked to clear his vision.

Samantha tightened her grip. “Are you OK?”

“Room is spin…”

She
veered him into the bedroom next to hers where she’d prepped his bed.

“Here, you can stay here and rest. I cleared it out for you, and there’s extra clothes you can try on to see if they fit. If not I’ll get you some new stuff in town.”

Rikist nearly collapsed on the bed, his leg brace squeaking under the pressure. He grunted and turned onto his back and fumbled with the buckles. Samantha sat on the mattress and helped him.

“Are you sure you want this off?” she asked
as she removed the side frames.

“Uncomfortable. I no need it right now.”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“You
don’t
need it right now.”

Rikist glared at her, and then rolled over onto his side away from her. “
Give me a break.”

“Sorry, habit.” Samantha bit her lip. “Are you still hungry?”

He nodded against the pillow, though his breathing had already begun to deepen.

“I’ll look out in the barn and see if I can find you some crutches.”
Samantha patted his back and left.

Rikist
fell asleep before Samantha had finished heating the canned soup on the stove, so she covered his bowl up for later and sat on the couch with her laptop.

She
had always loved to read and over the past few years had taken to writing after encouragement from one of her undergrad professors before she’d dropped out of school to tend to her ailing father and take over the house. After her dad passed, she just couldn’t bring herself to go back to school, but had managed to snag a part-time online gig writing how-to articles. She didn’t make much, but it was enough to pay for clothes and other extras above the income from the farm.

And for saving passed out aliens…

Two hours into writing she sat back and stretched her arms over her head, bored. She glanced down the hall, listening to the silence.

“It’s hard to find anything more interesting than an alien lion-god
sleeping in my spare bedroom,” she muttered.

A knock on the front door made her jump. Samantha set her laptop down on the table and
walked cautiously to the door. She sucked in a breath and glanced through the peephole in the door. Her shoulders slumped and she relaxed as she unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door.

A short Hispanic male in his late fifties wearing faded jeans and a cowboy hat greeted her. “
Samantha. I saw your car out front and wanted to check. I wasn’t expecting you ‘til Monday.”

“
Hi Rodolfo.” Samantha smiled, suddenly fighting back tears. “I came home early—been pretty sick. I left you a message—”

“You know I don’t know how to use that damn phone.” He shook his head.
“That’s too bad, though. You could have used the vacation.”

Samantha frowned. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Rodolfo laughed, raspy and heartfelt. “You take on too much yourself, Samantha. You need to find a man to help you out around here.”

She put a hand on her hip. “
Rodolfo—”

“And I don’t mean that asshole you had before.”

“I can take care of things just fine.” She rolled her eyes, though she knew Rodolfo’s concern was genuine—even though her neighbor could be a tad blunt. “Thanks for taking care of the animals.”

Rodolfo
nodded and turned to go. “Let me know if you need anything. Maria’s been asking when you’re going to come over for dinner.”

“Soon, I promise.”
She hesitated as he stepped off the porch. “Rodolfo?”

He turned, and his eyes widened in surprise as Samantha’s arms flung around him in a tight embrace. He chuckled and pushed her back gently.

“Are you alright?”

Samantha guffawed and wiped at her face. She nodded. “Yeah. I’m just… It’s just good to be home.”

Rodolfo’s brow creased, and he looked down at her with concern. “It’s good to have you back. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Really, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

“Well… get some rest. If you need help with the animals for the next few days you know where to find me.”

Samantha waved as he climbed into his old Ford
pickup, and drove off. She rubbed at her face and sank down on the front step to stare at the orange glow beginning to burn at the tops of the trees in the distance as the sun slowly lowered toward the horizon.

“Who
was that?”

Samantha jumped to see Rikist standing at the side of the doorframe, his body hidden from view. She stood and walked back into the house.

“My neighbor, Rodolfo,” she said. “He was watching over the animals while I was gone.”

“So you do rely on him.”

“Now and then. Rodolfo was my father’s best friend for years, and he’s always kept an eye out for me. Especially after Dad died…”

She trailed off, studying his face. If she wasn’t mistaken, there seemed to be a hint of jealousy in Rikist’s eyes and in the set of his masculine jaw. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face against his chest.

“You look a lot more alive than you did earlier.” She stepped back. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Rikist smiled back,
and then cleared his throat and looked away. “I’m feeling hungry.”

“I thought you hated my cooking?” Samantha chuckled.

He shrugged, grinning. “You didn’t cook the staw-berys, you picked them.” 

Samantha laughed, and took his hand and pulled him toward the kitchen
as he limped behind. She smiled when she felt his fingers tighten gently over hers.

Rikist had downed two family-size cans of tomato soup and sat at the table holding a small glass of wine as Samantha turned the light on in the oven to peek at her cookies. He swirled the inch of merlot around in his glass, sniffing the fumes.

He wrinkled his nose.
“This smells.”

Samantha straightened and picked up her own glass. She took a sip. “Tastes good
though.”

“Why did you give me
so little?” He pointed to her glass. “You filled yours.”

“Because I had your guys’ version of alcohol.” She smirked. “And this is much stronger. You need to ease into it
since you’re not—”

“I can
handle whatever you can.” He gave an arrogant lift of his chin, and then tipped his head back to down the wine at the bottom of his glass. He fought back a grimace. “See?”

“It takes a minute or two
to kick in…” She looked up at his raised glass and set to his jaw. She shrugged. “Fine, you want to be a stubborn tough guy about it? Knock yourself out.”

She grabbed the open bottle on the counter and filled his glass. She pressed in the blown glass stopper and leaned against the counter. She sipped o
n her wine, her eyes twinkling as she observed him. Though his English was a little rusty at times with a word here and there, she assumed he must have gotten pretty good at it with Lindsey for all those years.

“How many languages do you speak?” she asked.

“Four.” Rikist took another drink, slower this time, and licked his lips. “What are you doing?”

Samantha furrowed her brow. “What?”

He pointed to the oven.

She looked
to where he was pointing. “Ah. I’m making cookies.”

“What is that?”

“They’re dessert. I figured since you had a stash of chocolate at home you’d like these.” Samantha winked at him, and then ran the sink and filled it with soapy water. “So, on your first jump here.” She glanced over her shoulder as she dropped dishes in the sink. “When you… found Lindsey. Did you enjoy Vegas?”

“I didn’t
jump the same as Krissik,” he said. He took another drink of wine.

“What do you mean?”

“Lindsey was from New… New Jor…”

“New Jersey?”

He shook his head, tapping one claw on the table as he thought. “York. New York.”

Samantha
started, and then scrubbed the dishes and mixing bowls with a vengeance. “You mean to tell me that you guys have multiple jump points set up here?”

“
Four, I think, on your planet. Las Vegas, New York, Chee-a… Uh, Chyn… Is that correct?”

“
You mean China?”

“Yes.
China. And one other I do not remember.”

“So… technically Krissik could come through another of those jumps if he wanted to?”

Rikist seemed to think about it. “Yes. But
this is not near a jump site, at least not anymore with the hotel down. How will he find you? Easier just to find another female.”

“But what if he tried to come through—”

“Then I will protect you.”

“While you’re here that is,” she muttered. “Before you go home and leave me looking over my shoulder at every turn.
”

“Do you miss him?”

“Who, Krissik?”

“No. The
one in the picture.”

Samantha froze. She took her time putting the soup bowls in the dishwasher and hand drying her baking tools. Her heart raced.

“I… No. I don’t miss him.” She grabbed her wine glass and took a big gulp. “Sometimes. But he wasn’t any good for me. He was a jerk, and a cheater.”

“What did he cheat at?”

She nearly choked on her wine. “Us. He… slept around.”

Rikist didn’t seem to understand, and Samantha paled a shade. She closed her eyes.

“He kept going on secret business trips and had sex with other women.”

There was a long pause. “I am sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s but mine for trusting him.”

She finished cleaning
, and then patted her hands and eyes on a hanging towel and then glanced over her shoulder at Rikist as she checked on her cookies.

“Another minute,” she muttered. She closed the oven and walked toward Rikist.

Rikist’s glass was half empty, and his eyes drooped. He sat more relaxed in his chair, and his face had a dreamy look to it. He caught Samantha staring, and sent her a wide, playful grin.

Samantha laughed, finding his
lopsided smile both charming and boyish at the same time, and seemed to lift the raincloud that had been forming over her head. The wine had done its job, and his relaxed posture made her feel so much better after his anger for being brought to Earth.

“Are you OK?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm… I really feel very good right now.” Rikist nodded at her, glassy eyed. He took another sip of his wine. “Can I have more?”

She shook her head, smiling. “I
think I’m going to cut you off at one. You’re still coherent enough to watch a movie with me.”

“On the couch?”

She smiled, and opened her mouth to speak but stopped at the lost look on his face.

“Lindsey used to like movies,” he said slowly, staring at his wine glass. “She… she made it a game hiding the
disks and games in the apartment when Krissik came by.”

Samantha frowned. “Krissik moved out?”

“He was at university.” He held up two wobbly fingers. “Three years.”

Samantha laughed, and he joined her. He sniffed and wiped at his glassy eyes.

“I miss movies on the couch,” he said suddenly. He downed the rest of his wine with a grimace and glanced at Samantha standing beside him. His eyes slid down from her face to the middle of her chest, wavered, and then looked away.

Samantha
swallowed down the butterflies in her stomach and turned to pull the pan of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven.

“How is your leg feeling?”
she asked to change the subject.

Rikist
grunted, and then sat up in his chair and sniffed the air. “Is that the cuck-ee?”

“Co
okies.” Samantha nodded. “You’ll die for these.”

Rikist gave her a look. “No one dies for food unless—”

Samantha shoved half of a hot cookie into his mouth. Rikist closed his eyes, moaning. He chuckled and nodded.

“You are right.” He reached for the
spatula as she placed the cookies onto cooling racks centered on the table. “Can I have more?”

She shook her head
as she set the empty pan down and popped the other half of the cookie in her mouth. She hissed as the hot chocolate morsels burned her tongue, and she opened her mouth to let out the steam.

“
Ha-ha-hot!”

“I will help.”

Samantha looked up as Rikist quickly grabbed her shoulders, pulled her close, and pressed his mouth against hers. His lips locked around hers, opening her mouth wider as his tongue slipped around hers to lap up the cookie bits and run along the roof of her mouth. She closed her eyes and sucked in return, relishing in the mix of dark chocolate and wine over the taste that was all
him.

She
shuddered as Rikist pulled his head back and swallowed, his fangs grazing against her as he sucked off the last trace of chocolate off her bottom lip. She gazed wide-eyed and awestruck as he rolled his tongue over his sharp teeth to savor the sugary sweetness.

Rikist’s
heavy-lidded eyes were a darker amber than Samantha had ever seen them, bordering on a deep, sunset orange. His lips twitched, and she felt his arm reach around her onto the counter toward the racks of cookies. She gasped as she felt warm chocolate smear against the side of her neck.

“Rikist, what—”

Rikist smiled at her roguishly and his breathing quickened. “You… have some right…”

He trailed off, and leaned forward to suck at her neck, his tongue rolling in hot, wet circles across her skin. He bit down gently, his fangs sending sharp pinpricks of pain that made
Samantha hiss.

Samantha opened her eyes and looked down
at her hand as Rikist lifted her two chocolate-smeared fingers toward his lips. She swallowed as he slid her fingers into his mouth and sucked; she’d been so focused on his play bite that she hadn’t even noticed him spreading more chocolate across her skin. She bit her lip as his tongue licked between her two fingers, working the webbing as if trying to bury into a non-existent hole.

Rikist sucked her fingers clean,
provocatively pulling them in and out of his mouth once slowly as he eyed her with a heavy gaze, and then let her hand drop.

“I…” he started, a dimple forming between his eyebrows
as he frowned. “Sam-ntha, I am…” He motioned toward his empty wine glass on the table.

Samantha
snaked her arm around his neck and leaned closer to press her lips against his, tilting her head to the side to get a better fit against his mouth.

Rikist moaned
against her open mouth, and his hands lifted to grab the sides of her face. He kissed her back, tentatively at first and then with savage passion as his breathing quickened and his skin heated. He broke the kiss first, pulling back long enough to suck in a breath before trailing his kisses down Samantha’s neck and across her collarbone. He pulled on her shirt to reach lower, and Samantha pushed him away long enough to struggle out of the top and toss it aside.

Rikist made a high-pitched primal whine in his throat as he stared down at her black bra, and ran his hands over the rounded tops of her breasts and slid his thumbs just inside the top lace to brush against her nipples.
He scooted his chair further away from the table, giving them room to move.

Samantha reached up and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, working her way down. She was on the fourth button when Rikist grunted and grabbed the shirt with both hands and
jerked it over his head. She yipped in surprise as he tugged her forward to straddle his legs. She grimaced at the awkward angle of the leg brace on his thigh, and shifted her hips for a better seat over his raised crotch.

“I thought you said I was off limits?” she whispered, meeting his eyes.

He hesitated, and then kissed her again. He gave her a humorless grin. “I broke enough rules today one more will not matter.”

Rikist’s hands slid from her shoulders to her back, and he fu
mbled with the back of her bra with a look of annoyed concentration.

“Need help?” Samantha said after a moment, ginning.

Rikist grunted. “We do not have such…
things
at home.”

He growled and
grabbed the straps with both hands and yanked it apart, snapping the connectors. Samantha gasped in protest, but he covered her mouth with his and gently slid the straps off her arms and tossed the bra to the floor. He hissed through his teeth as he looked down at her front; his eyes round and smile widening from ear to ear.

He grabbed
Samantha around the waist and easily hoisted her onto the table, spreading her legs so that he sat between her knees. He put her hands on his shoulders and reclined back in the chair, forcing her to lean forward to keep her balance. He grinned, admiring the view of her arched torso and firm breasts near his face. He kissed each one in turn, his tongue flicking out to lap across her hardened nipples.

Rikist
stood suddenly and pushed the cooling racks out of the way and laid Samantha flat on her back. Samantha looked up in question, and then her heart raced as his hands went to the button on her jeans. Rikist pulled the jeans down her hips and off her ankles in one smooth movement. Then underwear came next, following the path of the discarded bra across the floor.

His eyes took her in, roaming from her flushed face down her
breasts and flat abdomen to the trimmed triangle of dark hair between her parted legs. His nostrils flared as he breathed in, his throat bouncing.

His
reached down and cupped her, smiling at her warmth. His thumb gently circled against her clit as the hot skin of his knuckles caressed her soft folds. Samantha’s breath left her at the savage look of lust he shot her, his eyes no longer alien but completely male.

“I can stop,” h
e said in a low, husky voice. The look in his eyes clearly said he did not expect to.

Samantha swallowed
and shook her head, her heart racing. “You better not.”

Rikist
sat in the chair and leaned forward, then pressed his nose close to Samantha’s skin and breathed in. He made a small sound in his throat and kissed the crease where her thigh met groin, and his kisses worked their way closer in, deeper between her legs. He brushed his nose against the stubble on her bikini line, and rolled his eyes up to gaze at her through the valley between her breasts.