The Abduction (22 page)

              John hadn’t been kidding about the potency of the medication he’d prescribed. The drugs had kept Rikist in pretty much a sedated state for the first three days, not waking for much more beyond taking his pills with food and enjoying an ear rub from Samantha before slipping back out. Though it was probably for the best; the antibiotics and pain meds made him nauseated beyond help, and sleep seemed to be the only reprieve available.

             
Krissik decided to stay, and had been extremely helpful around the house. His natural talent in architecture came to light when he redesigned an impressive irrigation system for Samantha’s gardens and orchards that would cut down on her watering bill, and had designed plans for improvements to the barn and a standalone guesthouse for himself that would be built once Rikist was up to helping… If he was
ever
up to helping.

             
Rikist made it a clear point to avoid his brother at all costs, even stubbornly refusing Krissik’s help moving around the house, which effectively grounded him to the living room couch most of the time. Samantha was able to help Rikist with his daily physical therapy John had prescribed, and to and from the bathroom, but nothing beyond that. Krissik had offered to accompany Rikist on the short walks around the house John had recommended, but of course the bullheaded alien had refused and even suffered a nasty fall that backslid his recovery by several days.

             
Two weeks later, Rikist’s health had improved greatly and for the most part he was back to being his old self. Though by the end of the first week the restrictive bed rest had made Rikist agitated as hell, and Samantha was silently glad for the pills that still knocked him on his ass twice a day.             

             
It allowed her to catch up on work, and spend some quality time with Krissik.

             
Samantha quietly turned off the television in the living room and covered Rikist’s sleeping form with a blanket. Satisfied he was out, she tiptoed her way from the couch into Krissik’s room, where he lay on his stomach in the middle of the bed, waiting. He pointed at the clock on the wall, showing the time as half-past nine. Samantha smiled at him and crawled onto the bed beside him and rubbed behind his ear, gaining a purr.

             
“Sorry, he took a while to go out tonight.” She mirrored his pose and stretched her legs out behind her, propping her upper body up on a pillow so that their shoulders touched. “So you ready to get started?”

             
Krissik smiled and nodded, and then reached beside the bed and pulled up a notepad and short stack of children’s books. He flipped through the books and handed one to Samantha.

             
Samantha frowned. “We’ve already read this one. Six times.”

             
Krissik shrugged. “Ike it.”

             
“Like,” Samantha said. She pressed her tongue to the bottom of her front teeth and exaggerated the movement, “La-la…
like
.”

             
Krissik scrunched his brow as he worked to conquer his uncooperative mouth. “El…la-ike. Like”

             
“Good.” Samantha opened the book to the first page, and pointed to the first line.

             
In return for Krissik’s hard work with his brother and helping out around the house, Samantha had been giving him speech and reading tutoring sessions. Since he was going to stay, the first thing he needed to do was to learn the language. Rikist hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d called his little brother a genius; in two weeks Krissik had picked up a basic understanding and substantial vocabulary of English. He still needed a lot of practice—especially with ‘l’, ‘v’, and ‘f’ as their native language did not have any equivalent sound—but his dedication was admirable and Samantha had no doubt that give him another month he would be able to hold a conversation with the average Joe.

             
Krissik studied the page and slowly sounded out the letters, his voice thick with accent. “The c-cat… r-ray, ray-n—”

             
“Ran.”

             
“—Ran p-pay-st…” He glanced up at Samantha’s lips just inches away trying to illustrate the correct sound. He stared and swallowed, licked his lips.

             
“Fast.” Samantha caught his look and frowned. “Kris?”

             
Krissik blinked back to reality, and then groaned and let his face fall on the book. He mumbled against the pages, before managing, “Saw-ree.”

             
Samantha sighed and rubbed his back affectionately. “I know it’s been hard.” She smiled when he purred and rubbed his cheek against her arm, and then ruffled the soft fur on his head. “Just keep it in check, OK?”

             
Krissik rolled sideways, so that Samantha’s hands could reach a preferred spot under his chin. “I jus miss… uh…”

             
“You’re homesick, huh?”

             
His gold eyes looked incredibly sad, and he made no effort to hide it. “L-own.”

             
“Huh?”

             
Krissik sat up, the wheels obviously turning in his head as he searched for the right words. “L-lone. Ah-lone.”

             
Samantha’s eyes softened. She sat up and touched his cheek so that he faced her. “You’re not alone, Krissik. You’ve got me and Rikist—”

             
Krissik shot her an annoyed but tired look and shook his head. “You and Rikist. Me?” He sighed again. “None.”

             
Samantha opened her mouth to respond when her cell phone rang from down the hall. She gave Krissik an apologetic smile and planted a firm kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

             
Krissik forced a smile, and looked down at the pages, his finger moving across the words as he went back to studying.

             
Samantha sprinted through the living room and into the kitchen, even though she knew the shrill ringing wouldn’t bother Rikist; the pills would probably allow him to sleep through an earthquake. She glanced over at his sleeping form as she picked up the phone and swiped her finger across the front without looking.

             
“Hello?”

             
“Sam?”

             
Samantha’s heart did a little flip. “Carly? Oh… oh my God I’ve been trying to reach you forever!”

             
“I know, I got your voicemails. Sorry, I… I’ve just been busy the last few weeks recovering from the hotel and… then the therapy afterward…”

             
“Therapy?”

             
“Yeah.” Carly sighed and her voice became lost for a moment behind the blaring of a radio. The music died and Carly grunted. “Well, my mother felt it necessary. My version of events didn’t seem to match most everyone else’s.”

             
What… what version does she remember?
“Carly, I’m… Look, I’m sorry I left early. I wasn’t feeling well, and I—”

             
“Yeah, well if you’re that sorry then you can make it up to me.”

             
Samantha’s palms began to sweat. “What did you have in mind?”

             
“Well I figured if I ever wanted to visit you sometime then I could crash with you and you could show me around.”

             
Samantha closed her eyes and smiled. That wasn’t a favor; that was Carly’s way of justifying another vacation on her parent’s wallet. 

             
“Deal. When were you thinking about coming out?”

             
Carly laughed, her throat rich and mischievous.

             
“I’ll be there in half an hour.”

Rikist struggled t
o open his eyes at the insistent shake on his bare shoulder. He grimaced and lifted his head.

“What… Samantha, what’s wrong?”

“Sorry, I know you’re tired,” Samantha said hurriedly. “But I need you to get up and go into the bedroom.”

Rikist sucked in a breath and pushed himself to a reclined position
after two attempts. He forced his eyes open and groggily looked around the room. “What?”

Samantha frowned. Rikist always slept
soundly for several hours almost immediately after taking his meds, and she’d just given him the last dose—

Forty-five minutes ago… Damn! You’ve got the worst timing ever, Carly.

She rubbed his shoulder and helped him sit up. “Carly is almost here.”

“Who?”

“My friend from the hotel.”

Rikist’s chin snapped up, and he cleared his throat as he tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes. “I…
The one you thought Krissik shot?”

“Not
Krissik, but he was right there when it happened.”

It seemed to take several moments for her words to register. He swallowed. “Does she remember?”

“I don’t know.”

Samantha
grabbed Rikist’s discarded shirt from the back of the couch and tossed it to him. He looked down, bewildered, as the shirt bounced off his chest and fell in a pile on his lap. She groaned, and then shook the shirt out and shoved it over his head.

“Come on, you need to
move.”

She helped Rikist into the shirt, fixing the right side when it caught
the bandages on his arm. She pulled the blanket back and slid her hands under his cast and knee brace, and helped him swing his legs off the side of the couch and sit up. Rikist’s eyes rolled back and he swayed, and Samantha caught his shoulders and helped him lean against her for support.

“Sorry, too fast?”
she whispered.

He mumbled in reply.

Samantha ran her fingers through his mane to pat down the mussed bangs from his short nap and then slowed, her hands at the back of his neck as she gazed down at his face as he tried to gather his bearings. Rikist looked up at her, dreamy eyes expectant and struggling to focus on her face. When he realized she was staring, he smiled.

“Hey.
”

H
e wrapped his arms behind her waist and pulled her closer. He rubbed his cheek and chin affectionately against the front of her breasts; a motion Samantha had come to realize was the equivalent of a cat scent marking. Though the way he moaned as he slid his stubbled chin against her skin felt much more titillating than something as simple as animal instincts.

Samantha caressed the side of his
face and leaned down for a gentle kiss. “I love you, too.”

Rikist smiled against
Samantha’s lips, slow and lazy, and spread his legs. His hands slipped further down her hips to slide under the hem of her jogging shorts, and gripped the crease between her butt and thighs. He squeezed and pulled her against his body, so that the front of her legs rubbed against his crotch, letting her feel the beginnings of his erection.

Heat rushed up Samantha’s neck and cheeks, and she suddenly felt
light headed. The regimen of drugs and Rikist’s slow healing had kept the physical aspect of their relationship on the back burner. Until that moment it seemed Rikist’s libido had been completely shot from either the Vicodin or annoyance at Samantha’s close contact during Krissik’s tutoring—something he had jealously commented on several times. The hard knot pressing against the front of his sweats let her know whatever had been keeping her lion down wasn’t strong enough to tame him any longer.

The intimacy of his nearness
stole her breath away, and she felt heat pool in her belly and moisture gather in her silk underwear. Heat radiated off his skin in waves, and she felt his otherworldly golden sunshine bathe her skin in tingling warmth, and for a moment she let herself bask in his glow. She unconsciously ran one hand down his tight abs and into the waistband of his pants. She smirked and felt him up through the cotton underwear, fondling his heavy sack and thick base. She rubbed her thumb across his wide tip and felt a slick wetness dampening the material.

“Happy to see me?” she whispered.

He chuckled low in his throat, his nostrils flaring. He leaned forward and pressed his nose against the warmth of her neck, breathing in deeply. His tongue shot out and licked a long, wet line on her collarbone, followed by a quick nip of his fangs. His hands shook on her thighs, and his claws twitched dangerously against her bare skin.

“I’ve really missed you.” A low rumble rolled from his gut and danced across Samantha’s skin. “Tsi raki… I want you so bad right now.”

Then suddenly his hands dropped and he teetered to the side before catching himself against her arms. He growled and leaned his forehead against her chest, his cheeks flushed.