“It is merely challenging, but that is why they sent the best here,” Skarr declares as we walk along the shore, a good distance from the water’s edge.

“But we’re not the best if you lose all the time—”

“Female! I did not say such a thing!” He gives me an indignant look.

I just giggle harder, like I know all of Skarr’s dirty secrets. He sure is sensitive about his winning record. If I was sober, I’d probably poke at that more. As it is, I just like the funny faces he’s making. “Someone’s cranky.”

“Someone is being insulted by the very female he is trying to impress.”

“Are you trying to impress me?” I lean back—not an easy feat given the fact that I’m leaning against him. I swivel forward and he has to put his other arm around me to ensure I don’t flop to the ground.

Skarr frowns down at me. “Of course I am. You have not realized this?”

“I just thought you were being…you know…you.”

“I am trying to impress you so that you will accept that you are my mate.” He pulls me into his arms, like we’re hugging. “And then we will breed babies together.”

Ugh. Babies. I put a hand on his face and push him away. He releases me, and I tumble backward into the sand…which makes me laugh harder.

Man, being drunk is fun.

I lie on my back and stare up at the night sky. So pretty. The sand feels soft underneath me, and I move my arms and legs back and forth, making a sand angel. Skarr thumps down next to me, sitting, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s quiet.

That’s…not like him.

I sit up, squinting my bleary eyes at him. “What’s wrong?”

Skarr watches me thoughtfully, his pretty hair floating around his face gently, like some sort of lizardy cartoon prince. “You do not want children?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I never thought about it before now. Before here.” I tilt my head, considering. “At least, that I know of. Maybe I did, but I can’t remember.”

He grunts.

I nudge him with my boot. “But you want children?”

“It was not an option I thought I would have. I would not mind it, though. I will be the best of fathers.”

“Because you’re the best at everything, right?”

My teasing words please him. Skarr smiles. “Obviously. And you will be the strongest, fiercest mother.”

I ponder this. I could be a fierce mother, sure. “Our kid would have to learn tracking. And how to build a fire.”

“And how to kiss.”

I explode into laughter, toppling onto my side. “You crazy man. I’m not going to show my kid how to kiss.”

“Why not? It is an important skill to learn, is it not? For humans?” He looks deeply concerned. “I think he would need to know.”

“Kissing is for two adults to do between them. Not for a mother and child. Those are different kinds of kisses.” I sit up, reach out and poke him in the nose. “Silly peacock.”

He gazes down at me, his bright blue eyes blazing. “So you could show me how to kiss?”

“Uh, yeah, if I wanted to.”

“Perhaps you should. I bet you are the best at it.” His eyes gleam. “In fact, I know you are the best at it.”

I know I am, too. But even drunk, I’m a little suspicious of what seems like a great (and fun) idea. “You don’t know how to kiss?”

“I do not. I have never had the opportunity.”

My eyes go wide. “You’ve never kissed? Never ever?”

“Never.” His back goes up. “But it looks simple enough. I just don’t see how it’s pleasurable.”

“Pffft. That’s because you’re a silly peacock.”

“I don’t know what that is.” His mouth twitches with amusement. “And you are very drunk.”

“Very,” I agree, but I’m having the best time. I don’t even mind being on the beach here with him. I don’t mind that my chest is thrumming and purring desperately, or that I’m thinking all kinds of naughty things right now. I’m just enjoying the moment—the drunken, drunken moment. “So you want me to show you how to kiss?”

“Only if you want to. Only if you are suitably impressed with me as your mate. If I must work harder to win you, I understand. I should be worthy.”

He sure is talking a lot for a man that wants to kiss. I squint my eyes at him, considering, and then decide to go for it. Sitting up, I fling myself at him and wrap my arms around his neck and plant my mouth on his.

Skarr makes a choked sound of surprise, his hands going to my sides.

I bite at his lower lip, and his mouth is softer than I expected. His lips are really nice, plush and giving against mine, and it turns out that kissing him feels pretty amazing after all. I brush my mouth against his and moan, because it feels so good. My fingers twine in his silky hair, and when he groans low in his throat, I feel powerful and sexy. I stroke my tongue between his lips, teasing him, and I can feel him gasp in astonishment.

Boy, he really doesn’t know how to kiss. The realization that I’m the one that gets to show him is pretty satisfying. No one gets to kiss Skarr but me. No one gets to nibble on this pouty mouth but me, or tangle their hands into his pretty prince hair. He’s mine to play with.

And so I keep playing with him. I pour everything I’ve got into the kiss, every bit of feminine wile and excitement, and when he pulls away, gasping, I nip his lower lip again, sucking on it with a slow, deliberate release.

“That is…you are…”

“Pretty awesome,” I agree, panting. “Let’s kiss some more.”

I lean in, but Skarr tilts his head to the side. “Wait.”

That makes me pause. “Wait for what?”

“I must know.” He eyes me. “Are you kissing me because you are drunk or because you wish to teach me?”

I roll my eyes, playing with his hair a bit more. “Duh, because I’m drunk.”

His expression changes to one that is completely crestfallen. “Then I do not want it. I want you to want me.”

“You don’t want to play?” I pout at him, running my hand down his chest. “What if I touch your chest?”

“Oh, I want to play,” he says, his voice strained even as he pushes my hand away. “But you are inebriated. It is not the same.”

“What if I put my hand on your thigh?” I purr enticingly, and do just that.

He groans, closing his eyes. “I will still push you away.”

And he does.

Well now, he’s just being ridiculous and I’m still having fun. “What if I rub your cock…”

And I plant my hand between his thighs.

It’s strange, because at first, there’s nothing. It’s smooth like a Ken doll. But then, a split-second after I register this, something shoots out, like it’s emerging from his body. Oh. He must be a grower.

Then, a second bulge shoots out.

My drunken, flirty mind sobers instantly. Two bulges?

Two is not normal. I jerk away, giving him a wide-eyed look. Skarr just watches me, his eyes heavy-lidded and hungry.

I’m no longer playing, though. My brain has flipped to panic mode. He’s an alien.

Two bulges.

I scramble to my feet and run for the hills.

Chapter Eighteen

VIVI

When I open my eyes the next morning, I have a throbbing headache and a vague memory of the night before. I’m dimly aware that after leaving Skarr’s side, I raced back to camp, threw up near someone, and then crawled into a tent and slept against someone’s feet.

It’s shamefully embarrassing. I sit up, and I’m covered in sand, still wearing last night’s clothing. I really must have been sloshed. I put a hand to my forehead and wipe away more sand, and then grimace as more memories flood back.

Who did I puke on? It might have been Kyth. Then, I think I cried and belly-crawled to the tent. I look around, and I’m relieved that I’m not curled up with strangers but instead nestled against several of the other “clone” women I was rescued with. At least they’re familiar. I wipe at my mouth, the sour taste of fruit lingering at the back of my throat, and get to my feet. A rain of sand follows my movements, and I grimace.