I digest that for a moment, staring up at him. He prowls closer, every step graceful, every muscle on his body honed and powerful.

“My scent will protect you. It will keep you safe, and sell the… lie of our mating.”

“Ugh,” I say, but part of me knows he has a point, even if it annoys me. I lick my lips.

“I do not wish for you to be uncomfortable, Leigh.”

Fresh goosebumps emerge at the way he says my name, making it sound like a song on his lips. I stare up at him, confused by how I feel.

I want.

But I don’t want him, dammit.

“I do not wish to make you cry,” he continues. “But I need you to be safe, and the best way to do that, the only way to do that, is to coat you so heavily in my scent that no one dares bother you. Besides…” He tilts his head at me, his now blue-black hair falling across his shoulders. “We must begin exchanging our scents now, to ensure it is believable for my people when we recruit from the settlements. Mating would help that along.” A heated smile turns his lips up, his glimmering eyes near gloating at the trap he’s set for me.

Fuck this guy.

“I’m not mating you, not now, not ever.”

His eyes blaze orange, and I swallow hard, flinching. Nydo’s expression falls, and a swift pang goes through me, followed by confusion, then anger.

“You can’t manipulate emotions, right?” I ask slowly.

“Only energy.” He shakes his head, and a cascade of sparks fly from his hair. “Why? Are you feeling… differently?”

“Just making sure,” I say, altogether too quickly to be believable.

Why am I feeling sorry for him? What the fuck is wrong with me?

“I was not asking you to fuck me,” he says casually, brushing a loose strand from his handsome face. Gah. Why are the hot ones always assholes? Every damn time. “I was asking you to wear my scent.”

“So spritz me in cologne, you weirdo,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. I stand up, feeling defiant and mad, my hands fisting at my sides… only to come face-to-face with Nydo’s wall of abs. They’re spectacular, even through the thin shirt he wears.

Ugh!

I flop back onto the bed.

“I do not know what cologne is. But I do not think I should spray you with fluids. I don’t think you would like that, either.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I cradle my head in my hands.

“Do humans joke about fluids often?” Nydo asks, his confusion unfeigned.

I stare at the ceiling, at a loss for words. Funny how a minute ago I was all hot and bothered, and now I’m just bothered.

“Nydo, I have to say, you are doing a great job of relieving that itch, just by being yourself.”

“I do not think that is the compliment I would like it to be,” he mutters.

I bark out a laugh, surprising both of us. His eyes flick to me, wide with surprise, then a small smile dances across his mouth.

It makes him even more handsome.

“So… you say wearing your…” I scrunch my nose up, forcing the words out, “scent will keep me safe on Hernus-12 tomorrow?”

He nods.

“And how, besides… mating,” I throw air quotes around the word, “or, god help me, fluids, do you suggest we do that?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he strips off his shirt, tugging it over his head.

And I am treated to a view of what, exactly, is under that training gear. I mean, I knew his body was fabulous, there’s only so much a shirt can do to hide it, but…

My mind shudders to a stop, my mouth gone dry. Holy guacamole. The hormones come flooding back, and I can’t stop staring. His torso is covered in the same velvety soft down as the rest of his body, and even though the grey color of his skin is somewhat disconcerting, he is, without a doubt, the most incredible being I have ever seen in my entire life.

His body is a work of art. And not just the dark grey whorls and swirls that decorate every inch of his skin, but his insanely muscled abdomen and thick pectorals.

I wet my lips, tearing my gaze away from the vee of muscles that point down below his pants.

“I should hold you.” It’s a simple sentence, but when I force myself to make eye contact with him again, the longing there… makes my heart skip a beat. “Take off your shirt.”

My hands automatically go to the hem of my shirt, my body ready to obey. Lucky for me, my brain is still somewhat functioning, because I pause. He licks his lips, and heaven help me, I can’t look away from his mouth.

“You’re not going to… do anything I don’t want, right?”

“I will pretend not to be insulted by that question.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s a normal question, douche face. If I strip down to my underwear, you have to promise not to touch me anywhere that I don’t want you to. You Roth,” I sputter, getting mad all over again. “Your people ravaged Earth. Stole me and my friends. Gave me meds that make me absolutely crazy with lust, and you, you have the freaking gall to tell me I have insulted you by setting a boundary?”

A muscle twitches in his temple. “Have I ever done anything you didn’t want? Did I not stop myself from pleasuring you when you asked? Or are you going to hold me responsible for all the crimes of my species against yours?”

I glare at him. “Why can’t I just stay on the ship anyways? Why do I have to go at all?”

“Because we need to sow the seeds of the story that you are mine,” he rasps, that orange glow flaring to life in his eyes once again. “We need to start the lie. And we are going to the station to buy the proper Roth clothes for you. There is a tailor there that will make you clothes more fitting for a queen.”

I gape at him. “What?”

He sneers, and I remember exactly how much I dislike him, in spite of the delicious view of his abs and pecs and shoulders and biceps and…

“You think I would let you dress like a human peasant while I parade you around on my arm? Absolutely not. You will wear the traditional Roth clothes, and they will be fit for a queen, which you agreed to pretend to be, mate.”

“Say you won’t touch me,” I tell him.

“I have to touch you,” he says.

“You know what I mean!” I snap. God! He’s so infuriating!

“I promise not to touch you anywhere you don’t want me to,” he says evenly, his eyes sparking orange.

“Good. Fine.” Fuck. I tug the hem of my shirt up, tossing it aside in a business-like manner, doing my best to ignore the hulking, muscle-bound alien staring at me. When I pull my pants down, though, revealing what I know are the ugliest, rattiest underwear I’ve ever owned, he makes a soft, strangled noise.

It’s harder to ignore that, and I spare a glance at him.

The expression on his face sends a shockwave of heat through me.

No one has ever looked at me like that before in my life. Nydo’s lips are slightly parted, his eyes burning embers in his face, his hands twitching at his sides. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and I blink.

I stare at him for a moment, trying to recalibrate while the fresh, dizzying wave of stupid sex hormones floods my brain.

“You promised not to touch anything—”

“You didn’t tell me not to look,” he snarls.

“Don’t look at me!” I yell.

He glances down at the floor, teeth bared. I crawl into the bed, arranging the sheet over my body, grinding my teeth. I squeeze my own eyes shut, like that will keep him from seeing my almost naked body.

The bed shifts as Nydo climbs into it, his huge body causing me to roll slightly towards him. My back brushes up against him, velvety soft. Oh my god.

He’s completely naked.

“You’re not wearing any pants!” I shriek.

“So? You didn’t specify that I should wear pants. Do human males normally wear pants to sleep in?” He actually sounds confused, and I roll over, trying to deduce if he’s sincere by looking at his face.

A fucking mistake. A big one.

We’re nose to nose, his mouth a mere inch from mine.