The Visitor: Alien Hunger Special Edition (17 page)

He held her for a few moments, rocking
her slightly and finally pulled away. “Let’s get something on these
burns.” Guiding her back to the chair, he helped her sit and then
grabbed what he’d brought. She stared at the assortment of
bandages, tape, and the tube he opened curiously. “What’s
that?”

“
A topical. It’s an
antibiotic, too,” he responded absently, dabbing a dollop of the
salve on each blister and even the lighter burns. For a moment, the
burning intensified. He blew on her fingers gently until the
burning stopped and then cleaned the salve from his own hand and
tore open a box that had gauze pads in it.

“
Good thing you had a
first aid kit handy,” she said wryly.

He flicked a glance at her face and
then focused on his task, frowning slightly. “I’ve always found
it’s a good idea to be prepared.”

“
Next time I cook maybe we
should call the paramedics and the fire department and have them on
standby.”

He chuckled, flicked a look at her
face and wiped the smile off. “It isn’t that bad, baby.”

“
I feel like
crying.”

“
Don’t! I’ll cry,
too.”

Chelsey stared at his profile a moment
and chuckled.

His lips curled at one corner. “You’d
laugh at my misery, lady?”

Chelsey leaned toward him impulsively
and kissed his temple. “No, I wouldn’t.”

He finished wrapping her hands and
studied his handiwork.

“
A little higher and I
could play the mummy.”

He reached to settle his hands along
her waist. “You making fun of my work?”

Chelsey smiled at him and curled her
arms around his neck. “It’s beautiful, Dr. Sinclair,” she murmured
teasingly.

He tensed, but before she could wonder
at it, he straightened, pulling her to her feet and then swept an
arm behind her thighs and lifted her against his chest. “Doctor,
huh? That’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Chelsey smiled up at him. “It does,
but I like Diablo just fine.”

He paused in the doorway to her
bedroom, searching her face. “Do you?”

“
Of course I do! You’re
a
wonderful
dancer.”

He made a derisive sound and moved to
the bed, settling her and then fluffing the pillows behind her
back. “I don’t know if many people would really call it dancing,”
he retorted wryly.

Chelsey shrugged. “I call it
beautiful. I just wish I could do that sort of thing,” she said a
little wistfully.

His expression hardened. “Don’t even
think about it! No way in hell I’d have my wi .. woman out on a
stage like that with horny men pawing her and drooling all over
her!”

Chelsey blinked in
surprise, feeling a thrill rush through her. She smiled at him
tentatively before it occurred to her that he was damned bossy for
somebody that got on stage and waggled his …
dong
at a bunch of horny women! She
glared at him. “Well! I don’t like that part either!”

He studied her a long moment and
abruptly grinned. “You don’t?”

“
I don’t!” she said
emphatically.

He settled on the bed next to her. “I
thought you said it was beautiful?” he murmured, clearly
amused.

“
Well, it is! All the
leaping and twirling you do and the splits—it looks so effortless
when I know it couldn’t possibly be! Like gymnastics. That’s what I
was talking about, how it must feel to have that power, the
control, the grace—that’s beautiful!
You’re
beautiful. I just don’t like
the screaming, horny women … much.”

He slipped down the bed and propped on
one arm, lifting one of her hands. “I guess you wouldn’t mind if I
quit that job, then?”

Chelsey felt like her chest inflated
with helium. He was asking her? Like it might be her business? The
buoyant feeling deflated. “Can you … afford to?”

He shrugged. “The money’s good but the
hours suck ass. I’ve pretty well saved up what I figure I’m going
to need. I’m thinking maybe another month to a month and half and I
can hang up the thong.”

“
Seriously?” Chelsey
gasped, struggling with the impulse to jump up and down and
cheer.

He grinned at her a little ruefully.
“I guess you’d like that, huh?”

Chelsey threw her arms around him,
hugging him tightly. “I wouldn’t mind if you wore it for me,” she
said tentatively.

He chuckled. “You want a private lap
dance, lady?”

“
Now?”

He laughed at that and hugged her
back. “I think my stomach’s going to cave in if I don’t get food
pretty soon. What do you think? Check out the kitchen to see if
anything’s salvageable? Or I should I pick something up and bring
it back?”

“
I doubt anything’s
salvageable,” she said with disgust.

“
I’ll hit the road then
and be quick.” He kissed her and pulled away.

“
Be careful—don’t worry
about quick,” she said when he reached the door.

He threw a glance back at her and
grinned. “Careful but quick.”

Chelsey swallowed a little
convulsively as an awful thought flickered through her mind. “Just
be careful.”

Nodding, he left. Struggling with the
completely unfounded fear that he might have an accident, Chelsey
settled back on the pillows, wondering uneasily where it had come
from. She wasn’t inclined to believe in omens, though, and finally
realized it had sprung solely from the sudden realization of just
how important he was to her.

It wasn’t something she wanted to
dwell on, however, not when it seemed there were so many black
clouds gathering on the horizon.

It occurred to her to wonder after a
few moments why Garryk had thought it necessary to carry her to the
bed. Really! She was fine, maybe a little shook up and battered
from her disaster of a day—tired, too.

She must look like pure hell, she
thought irritably just before she dozed off. Garryk woke her when
he came in again. He paused in the doorway. “Kitchen? Couch? Or
bed?” he asked, holding up a couple of white carryout
bags.

“
What is it?”

“
Chinese.”

“
Table. I can’t get half
of it in my mouth. We’ll be sleeping in rice.”

“
I got lomien,” he said a
little doubtfully.

“
Or noodles.” She looked
down at her dress when she’d gotten out of bed and decided to
change before it was a total loss. She discovered as she headed to
the dresser that she actually felt a little woozy. Too much sun?
She didn’t think she’d actually been at her sister’s house that
long. Maybe it was just the overexcitement? Oh she had had a
hell
of a
day!

After a brief struggle with the
mitten/bandages, she discarded the dress and her bra, pulled on an
oversized t-shirt, and headed into the kitchen. The pan of
blackened rolls was still in the floor and she paused, staring down
at it.

“
It’s stuck,” Garryk
volunteered. “I would’ve gotten it up otherwise. Just leave it.
I’ll find something to pry it loose that, hopefully, won’t damage
anything.”

“
More,” Chelsey amended.
“If it’s stuck, I’m guessing the smell of melted plastic means it
might be a permanent part of the floor. The landlord’s going to
freak! I’ll have to replace the whole damned kitchen
floor!”

“
Naw—well, maybe not. I’ll
check it out tomorrow. If we can find some tiles that match, we’ll
only need to replace a couple—four at the most. If not—well, we’ll
cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Collecting the tea pitcher from the
refrigerator, Chelsey moved to the chair opposite Garryk and opened
the box. Her stomach growled in anticipation. She sent Garryk a
quick look.

His lips twitched but he pretended
deafness. She cleared her throat. “I skipped lunch,” she murmured,
trying to figure out how to get the plastic fork out of the wrapper
when both hands were bandaged.

Garryk took it from her and opened it.
“Why?”

“
Why what?” Chelsey
responded absently, trying to curl her hands around the fork Garryk
was holding out.

He uttered a sound of impatience and
set the fork down. “Come here.”

She glanced at him
questioningly.

He scooted out from the table and
patted his leg in invitation.

“
You’re going to feed me?”
Chelsey asked with a mixture of amusement and
indignation.

He grinned at her. “It doesn’t look
like you’re going to be feeding yourself tonight. I don’t want you
getting anything on the bandages anyway. You can take them off
tomorrow and I’ll have a look at the burns.”

Chelsey shook her head at him, but she
got up and perched on one thigh, curling her arm around his
shoulders. “I see you’re in doctor mode again,” she said teasingly.
“This is going to be weird!”

Garryk scanned her face, looked like
he might say something, and then leaned over and dragged her plate
next to his. Twirling a wad of noodles on the fork big enough to
choke a horse, he held it up. “Open wide.”

“
I can’t get that in my
mouth!”

His eyes gleamed with amusement. “I’m
bigger than that and you got me in your mouth.”

Amusement joined her irritation. “You
may need glasses.”

“
Wanna
compare?”

She chuckled. “No, no! I’ll take your
word for it,” she responded, opening her mouth. She managed to
corral about half the noodles. The other half landed on her lap,
part of which slid onto the floor. She gave Garryk an ‘I told you
so’ look, but her mouth was too full to comment.

He grinned at her. “You look like a
chipmunk.”

She frowned at him, but she was too
busy trying to chew and swallow to do anything else. Garryk picked
up the noodles in her lap and put them back in her box. Picking up
a teriyaki wing, he tried to eat it one handed.

“
Takes two,” Chelsey
commented around the wad of noodles she was still chewing, reaching
for the other end of the bone.

He growled at her, holding it out of
reach. “Bandages!”

“
Thit!”

He grinned. “You
are
such
a lady,
Chelsey Ledger! Don’t you know ladies aren’t supposed to say
thit?”

She held up one hand, trying to form a
bird.

He watched with interest. “More
noodles?” he asked innocently, rolling another wad around the fork
just as she managed to swallow the last of the ‘first bite’. “Don’t
you dare stuff my mouth with noodles again!” she said with mock
anger. “Is that sweet and sour chicken?”

He picked up a piece. “You want the
sauce?” Without waiting for a yea or nay, he took the sauce out of
the bag, flicked the lid off with one nail and dunked the piece of
chicken.

“
Open wide!”

Chelsey stared at the steadily
dripping piece, lifting her hands to try to catch the drips. Garryk
snatched her hands out of the way. It left a trail of drips all the
way up her t-shirt. “Garryk!”

He stuck the piece of meat in her
mouth. “Bite!”

She bit, tucked the piece in her cheek
and tried to lick the sauce off her chin.

Garryk’s eyes narrowed on it. “Nice
tongue.”

She stuck it at him. “I’ve got sweet
and sour chin!”

“
Hold on.” Instead
reaching for a napkin, he leaned toward her and sucked her chin. It
felt oddly erotic to feel the heated suction of his mouth on her
chin—or maybe just weird? It made her nipples pucker,
though.

“
Give me the tongue. I’ll
clean that, too.”

She clamped her lips together. “I’ve
got meat in my mouth,” she muttered between her lips.

“
I’ve got some meat you
can put in your mouth.”

She waggled her brows at him.
“Sausage?”

He studied her face a moment and
leaned toward her again, lapping at the drops of sauce on her
shirt. He paused when he reached her breasts and then very
deliberately moved to one of the tips tenting her shirt and sucked
it through her shirt.

There was no doubt in her mind that
time that it was erotic. The pull of his mouth set her heart to
racing and made heat coil low in her belly. “There wasn’t any sauce
there,” she murmured.

“
No? Tastes sweet to me.
Let me try the other one.” She gasped when he jerked her shirt up
and burrowed his head under it, curling her other arm around his
shoulders as a heated lethargy invaded her.

“
Did you get it?” she
asked huskily when he finally released her nipple.

“
Hmm. I see a few spots
here I missed,” he murmured, lathing his tongue over her
stomach.

His hair was standing on end when he
emerged from beneath the T-shirt. Chelsey smiled, smoothing it down
with her hand. She thought they got more food on themselves, the
table, and the floor than they actually ate, but she’d never had a
picnic that was more fun.