The Nanny and the Alien Warrior by Honey Phillips

Chapter Nine

Craxan stared into the darkness, his arms and tail wrapped snugly around the female in his arms.

His female.

His mate.

He had been sure of it before, but after last night there was no doubt. His arms tightened around her sleeping figure, his head filled with her scent. Her peaceful breaths feathered across his bare chest, an exquisite torture to his aching cock. At some point during their kissing session, she had insisted that he remove his shirt, running her hands greedily over his bare skin and pressing hot little kisses to the exposed flesh.

He had dared to suggest that she do the same, but she cast a meaningful glance at the overhead bunk and refused. She had permitted him to slip his hands beneath her shirt, to feel the lush fullness of her breasts filling his palms and the hard little points of her nipples between his fingers. He longed to see them, to taste them, and when she arched into his touch and the scent of her arousal filled the cabin, a previously unknown primitive instinct urged him to rip away the shirt and claim her completely.

But she trusted him, and there was a child sleeping nearby, and he called on all of the discipline he had learned over the years to restrain himself. A discipline that had been no help at all when it came to his unruly tail. She had told him that they could only go to second base, a strange expression which meant he could not touch her below the waist. But as their kisses grew hotter and he explored her luscious breasts and she panted into his mouth, his tail had slipped between her legs and found a hot, wet nub of flesh that quivered at his touch. His tail tugged at it lightly, and she jerked in his arms, burying her face against his neck to hide her muffled cry.

He felt her shudder, felt a rush of liquid heat bathing his tail, and was reaching to free his erection before he came to his senses. He could not.

Losing her would devastate him now, but if he entered her, if he knotted inside her… He would never recover.

Instead, he regretfully pulled his tail free. He could not resist tasting her passion, and the delicious essence almost overrode his good sense once again. But then she looked up at him, her eyes dazed, and smiled.

“I think you broke the rules.”

“I did not touch you with my hands.”

She shook her head, but she was still smiling. “I don’t believe I restricted it to hands. If I used my mouth on you, that would definitely be going beyond second base.”

“Your mouth?”

“To… kiss you. Here.”

For one delightful second, her fingers traced the ridge of his erection. He almost exploded, not just from her touch but from the shockingly erotic thought of her mouth on his cock. The act had been banned on Cire as soon as the Council realized how few females were left. The only purpose for a male’s seed was for procreation. Since then he had seen enough to realize that it was a common act, but enough of his upbringing remained that it had the thrill of the forbidden.

“I… I…” He could not find the words, but she pulled him back down and there was no more need to talk.

He wasn’t sure how long they had spent kissing and touching, but he was quite sure that he had brought her to climax twice more before she drifted off into an exhausted sleep. He had not. Instead he had held her and listened to her breathe and tried to come up with a way for them to be together. He was searching for a planet that would be safe enough for his females but still provide him with work when he heard a quiet whisper.

“Papa?”

“Yes, Tavi?”

“Is it time to get up yet?”

By the ship’s settings, it was early morning. “I suppose so.”

“Is Mama still asleep?” Her little voice sounded distinctly disapproving.

“Yes, she was very tired.” At least in part due to my efforts, he thought, feeling both proud and a little guilty. “What if we go and see if Miss Rissta is awake?”

“You had better leave Mama a note this time,” she giggled.

“I will,” he promised, turning up the cabin lights just enough that he could see.

He pulled on his shirt, wrote the note, and lifted Sultavi down from her bunk. She yawned and snuggled against him as his tail curved protectively around her small figure. There had to be a way, he decided. He would not let them out of his life.

“You do not seem very awake,” he said.

“I just need juice.”

He laughed and carried her out of the cabin.

Rissta was awake. She grunted at the sight of them, but supplied Sultavi with juice and biscuits. She even unbent enough to hand him a cup of hot tea and a plate of fried ova.

“Thank you. This is delicious.”

“Hmph.” Despite the grunt, she seemed pleased at his praise and joined them at the table with her own cup of tea. “Your mate did not do badly yesterday. But why is this so important to her?”

“She thinks she could get a job as a cook,” he admitted.

“Why would she need to?”

“A mercenary’s pay can be… uncertain.”

“And if you’re off looking for work and she’s cooking, who’s going to take care of this one?” Rissta jerked her thumb at Sultavi.

She didn’t wait for a response, changing the subject to the shortcomings of her grandson. He couldn’t help but smile at her bitingly accurate portrayal of Merios, but her words haunted him. He hated the idea of Joanna struggling to cope with a job and a child with no help.

As if thinking of her had conjured her up, Joanna appeared at the entrance to the kitchen. She still looked sleepy and tousled and absolutely adorable, especially when her cheeks turned pink as she gave him a shy glance. He wanted to pick her up and carry her back to bed—and his cock vehemently agreed—but she was already moving into the room and greeting Rissta and Sultavi.

When she came to him, his tail curved around her waist and tucked her firmly against his side. When she didn’t object, he followed up by brushing his mouth to hers.

“Good morning, my mate.”

“Good morning. Thank you for leaving me the note, but you should have woken me.”

“You were sleeping so peacefully that I did not want to disturb you. You had a late night.”

She blushed again and he gave her a quick hug, then looked up to see Tavi giggling at them and Rissta staring thoughtfully.

“Go on, boy,” the old female said brusquely. “I’m sure you have something better to do with your time than clutter up my kitchen.”

He didn’t, but he gave in to the inevitable. After another kiss for his mate and a hug from Tavi, he left the kitchen and went to the exercise room. Jed was already there, looking tired.

“Is something wrong?”

“No more than usual.” The male rubbed his thumb over his fingers, a habit Craxan had noted before. “A long flight gives you too much time to think. To remember.”

He knew those long, empty nights all too well, but since he had met Joanna and Sultavi, his thoughts had been full of them.

“Perhaps you should find a mate,” he suggested.

Jed shot him a discerningly sharp look. “Why do I suspect that this is no longer just a job?”

“Because it is not.”

“I am happy for you, even if it means the end of our brief association.”

He sighed heavily as he stripped down to a pair of training shorts. “I am not sure that it will be. They are planning to stay on Trevelor. There is not exactly a high demand for my skills on a peaceful planet like that.”

Jed nodded. “I would have the same problem—my expertise is in ship engines. Not that I will ever have a mate.”

“Why not?”

“After what I did? I don’t deserve one.” He was rubbing his thumb again. “And what if I can’t continue to control the drinking?”

Craxan wished he had an easy answer, but he had seen enough to know that it was a difficult struggle.

“Perhaps a mate could help with that,” he suggested.

Jed looked shocked. “But it would be my duty to care for her.”

“I suspect my mate would say that each of you should care for the other.”

The subject made him uncomfortable, especially since he was so conscious of his own shortcomings in his ability to care for his mate and child.

“Let us train,” he said, changing the subject. “Perhaps I can show you some additional tactics—so you will not be bested in three moves.”

Jed grinned fiercely. “You’re on.”

By the end of the training session, Craxan was exhausted and he could feel a bone deep bruise on his left shoulder where Jed had managed to land a blow, but he was also filled with satisfaction. Jed had done well in response to his tutelage. He dropped down against one wall, and Jed joined him, passing him a bottle of water.

“Thank you,” the other male said. “That was very helpful.”

Craxan shrugged, but he appreciated the other male’s thanks. “You have a good foundation. You just need to strengthen your stance and learn to use your opponent’s strength against them.”

They drank the water in silence for a few moments, then Jed said hesitantly. “Have you considered becoming an instructor? Not only do you have the skills, but you’re also able to share that knowledge.”

His lips twisted. “I had intended to be a teacher once—a scholar. That is not exactly what I had in mind.”

“You should consider it. I suspect there is a need for that—even on a planet like Trevelor. Maybe even more so since they are not natural warriors.” Jed stood and offered a hand to Craxan. “It’s time for my shift. But think about it.”

Craxan rose, thinking about the other male’s words as he toweled off. It was true that he was well trained. While most of his jobs were solitary, he had occasionally worked with younger males and showed them additional techniques. The job would not be glamorous, nor would it pay as well as his current occupation, but as long as it paid enough to provide Joanna and Tavi with decent food and adequate shelter, he would be satisfied.

The idea continued to turn in his brain over the next few days, but he could not bring himself to mention it to Joanna. Instead he allowed himself to fall into the comfortable rhythm of life on board. Joanna spent at least half of each day in the kitchens with Rissta and he used that time to sew or to train or to entertain Tavi. They spent the rest of the day together—as a family.

And the nights. At night, she was all his. They would talk and she would tell him of her previous life and sometimes she coaxed part of his history from him.

But even when they were just talking casually, her presence made his blood hum and his cock stiffen, and at some point, she would come into his arms. After the second time his tail brought her to climax, she had abandoned her second base rule. She had been lying back in his arms, her face still flushed and her eyes heavy, and smiled up at him.

“I suppose I should just admit that we have reached third base.”

“Is there a fourth? Or perhaps a fifth?” His mind reeled at the possibilities.

“Only a fourth.” The color deepened on her cheeks, but she did not look away from him. “That would be intercourse.”

His cock jerked so hard that he was afraid his pants would split open. He was beginning to think that his erection would never fade, and although he had tried taking himself in hand during his showers, it had been meaningless and unsatisfactory. He wanted to bury himself inside her more than he had ever wanted anything in his entire life, but he would not take that step until he could claim her as his mate.

“But there are many other steps between these bases of yours.” He ran his tail lightly over her clit as he spoke.

“Many other steps?” she asked teasingly.

Emboldened by her provocative smile, he slid his hand between her legs and thrust a thick finger into her small channel. She was still slick and hot from her climax, but her sweet little cunt clung to him. She gasped, but she didn’t pull away and when his tail circled her swollen pearl again, he felt her quiver around his finger.

“Perhaps this is base three point one,” he suggested, beginning to thrust slowly in and out of her.

“Y-Yes,” she stuttered. “We shouldn’t forget three point one.”

Her hips were arching up to meet his strokes, and he offered her his other hand. They had discovered that she had a tendency to cry out when she climaxed, and she liked to hold his hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.

Since then they had discovered other steps on the path between bases—three point two and three point four were his personal favorites—but he had so far refused to let her touch him in the same way. He suspected that one touch of her hand or her mouth on his cock and his few remaining shreds of control would vanish. He would claim her, and she would be his forever.

But he had not taken that step. He told himself it was because of the uncertain future, but deep down, he knew it was more. He had not realized until he lost Vanha how much that sense of family meant to him. The loss of it had almost destroyed him, and he was afraid.

Then, on the afternoon of the fourth day, he went to the kitchen to collect Joanna and Tavi and found Rissta scowling at his mate.

“What is happening?” he asked.

“Miss Rissta says we have to eat with the crew,” Sultavi said happily. “I think it will be fun to have dinner with Yengik. Maybe the captain will magic some more sweets.”

He looked over to see Joanna giving him a worried frown.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea—” she said, but Rissta interrupted.

“If you are cooking for others, you need to see how they respond to your food.” The elderly female scowled. “If you are not prepared to do that, then I have nothing else to teach you.”

“But…” Joanna gave him a helpless look.

He understood her hesitation. He had been equally reluctant to expose his two females to the rest of the small crew. Even Jed had not actually met them. Perhaps he was being foolish. What harm could come to them here under his protection?

“I am sure it will be fine,” he assured her.

Sultavi cheered and Rissta cackled. “New mates are always so protective. You’ll get over it soon enough, boy.”

He somehow doubted that, but he merely bowed his head and escorted his family back to the cabin.

“I want to wear the pink—” Tavi began, then her little face fell. “I forgot I don’t have my pretty dresses anymore. Father always liked me to wear one at dinner.”

She rarely mentioned her biological parent, and he immediately wanted to comfort her. He had intended to keep it a surprise for when they landed on Trevelor, but after a look at that woebegone little face, he went to the compartment where he kept his sewing supplies and pulled out the dress he had made her from the white silk.

“It is not pink, but perhaps you would like to wear this?” he asked gently.

“Oh, Papa.” She ran a tentative finger along the shimmering fabric. “It’s so pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you are.”

She giggled, then flung her arms around his neck. “I love it. Thank you.”

“Perhaps you should try it on first,” he warned her. With practice he had remembered more of those long-ago days and his skills had improved, but he was far from being a tailor.

“I love it,” she said firmly. “Look, Mama.”

“Very pretty.” Joanna smiled at her. “You will be the belle of the ball.”

“Like in the story? Does that mean there’s a beast?”

“Only Papa when he growls.”

Tavi giggled, and his mate arched an eyebrow at him. She knew full well the best way to make him growl. He hesitated for a moment, then retrieved the second gown.

“This one is for you.”

“For me? You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Of course I should. You should always be clothed in the finest manner—not that this is the finest, but it is the best I can do. I wish I could provide you with more,” he said regretfully.

“Don’t be silly.” She gave him a teasing look. “This would be completely impractical in the kitchen. Rissta would never let me hear the end of it.”

Her words did not ease his consciousness of his failings. “You should not have to work in the kitchen.”

She reached over and put her hand on his arm. “I love working in the kitchen, and I love—love that you made it possible.”

He couldn’t doubt her sincerity, and he sighed and pulled her close.