Page 29 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
Don’t be stupid, Yara.
I pull on my robe. It smells like lavender and synthetic detergent and not like him, which is both a relief and a disappointment.
He shifts behind me.
Then he speaks.
“You’re trying to sneak out of bed without a goodbye?” His voice is still husky with sleep, deeper and rougher than usual. It curls around me like a lasso.
I glance back.
He’s lying on his side now, one arm tucked behind his head, the sheets twisted around his hips in a way that should not be legal. Red eyes glow faintly in the early light, tracking every inch of me like a hungry thing just barely restrained.
“I wasn’t sneaking,” I say, trying for cool but only managing flustered. “I was… regrouping.”
His lips twitch.
He pushes himself up, spine unfolding in a series of smooth motions, like some kind of predatory cat stretching after a kill. “You regret it?”
“No,” I say instantly, then wince. Too fast. Too honest.
I cross to the kitchen, not because I need coffee, but because I need distance. A barrier. Something to do with my hands that doesn’t involve trailing them over his skin again.
I activate the brewer, pretending not to feel his eyes on me.
“But,” I continue, pouring a cup I don’t really want, “this doesn’t change the situation.”
He cocks his head. “Which situation?”
“Any of them. All of them.” I take a breath. “Grau, I run a company. One that’s already skating on the edge of disaster. I cannot afford personal distractions interfering with professional responsibilities.”
He rises—naked, unashamed, devastating—and pads across the floor with a grace that makes my pulse jump.
“Distraction,” he echoes. “That what I am to you?”
I lift my chin. “Last night was… incredible. But it doesn’t change the rules I live by. My job is too important. If this”—I gesture between us—“gets tangled up in that, people could get hurt. Or fired. Or worse.”
He stops in front of me, looking down with that unblinking intensity that made me melt under him hours ago.
“I’m not asking to sit in on board meetings,” he says. “I’m asking to be near you.”
“And I’m saying those worlds have to stay separate.”
He studies me.
Silent.
Then, to my surprise, he nods.
“All right,” he says.
Just like that.
I blink. “That’s it?”
“You said what you need. I heard you.”
My stomach does a weird flip. “And you’re… okay with that?”
