No, don't make it awkward, Birdie.

  I kept my mouth shut instead.

  "Cub league in the morning," he stated. "Neither of us can afford to be hobbled by that couch tomorrow."

  Ahh...

  For some reason, that logical explanation settled my nerves. Just a tiny bit.

  He wanted to be at his full physical potential tomorrow for the kids. And I particularly didn't want a kink in my neck all day.

  Maybe I'd freaked out for nothing. He didn't want to molest me in the middle of the night. He just wanted a decent sleep on a great mattress.

  I relaxed, pulling my half of the covers up to my chin and settling in.

  "Goodnight, Omen."

  ****

  OMEN

  "Goodnight, Birdie."

  I clenched my jaw and stared at the ceiling, as if I could will away the storm stirring inside me. My hands fisted on my stomach while my senses were consumed with her presence. I'd stay on my side of the wall of cushions she'd erected between us.

  For the best, because Birdie wasn't wrong. Sleeping in the same bed was a stupid decision. Stupid, but necessary. Tomorrow would be a long day.

  The seconds seemed like minutes as I mulled over what happened. She triggered something in me. A primal urge that clawed at my insides in a way I'd never experienced.

  I'd been in relationships before and each time my physical and mental needs were imbalanced, leading to unfavorable results and unwanted drama with my past partners.

  None had ever called forth the true verkonie bond in me. My people referred to it as a fever. Udonie.

  I didn't come from a race where a biological quirk designated one person—who I didn't pick—in the universe as mine. We got to choose our life mates. Which made marking a sacred choice amongst my kind because once we chose to share it, that was it.

  There would be no one else.

  Our bodies were physically incapable of being aroused by anyone who wasn't our chosen mate. Even after their death.

  Udonie rarely happened anymore. With the option to pick a mate, to freely give our bite to one person, verkonie didn't chase through the universe, searching for someone to trigger the fever.

  Why risk the possibility of never finding it and being alone the rest of their life?

  Instead, verkonie were practical. When they found someone to commit to, they demonstrated their devotion by giving or receiving the powerful bite of the male.

  Matehood was as complex as one decided to make it: simple love or an intricate game of familial connections and finances.

  From what I gathered, humans and verkonie were similar in that way.

  But udonie?

  The fever didn't discriminate and no one could explain what caused it or why. There were theories, spiritual superstitions, but nothing scientifically proven.

  I wasn't completely sure that's what happened in the pool, but I couldn't imagine what else it would be.

  A thread deep in my core had been plucked and called forth by Birdie, pushing me into the realm of instinct. For a few moments, my only conscious thought had been to claim her as mine—mind, body, soul. It went beyond the physical.

  Not that I wasn't already salivating for my next chance to touch her.

  Fuck.

  Everything about her tonight was impossible to ignore and my body ached for an entirely different reason than when we first met.

  Stop thinking about her, idiot.

  Last thing I needed was an erection while the focus of my lust was within arms reach.

  I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep.

  ****

  A ferocious snore erupted from Birdie and my eyelids flew open.

  I peered over the wall of pillows at her, seeing her gaping mouth and her arms spread wide as another rumbling sound gored the silent room.

  What the six devils...

  I couldn't sleep like this. It was difficult enough in another room, but lying right beside her? My eyeballs nearly rattled in my skull on her next hellish inhale.

  "Birdie," I whispered, my voice thick with exhaustion. "Birdie, you're snoring."

  Her only response was a honking gasp.

  I dragged a hand down my face and stared at her while she carried on, her snores cranking up.

  There had to be a way to fix this. I needed sleep, but I didn't want to leave. The bed was soft and, apart from the snoring, sleeping beside Birdie calmed my spirit more than I wanted to admit.

  I reached over the pillows to gently roll her to her side, pausing when she grunted. The snoring diminished.

  Thank fuck.

  The next time I woke, the hazy light of dawn was peeking through the wall of windows and softly illuminating the room. I nuzzled my nose into Birdie's wild tresses and deeply inhaled. The scent of her shampoo made her smell like fresh baked pastries.

  Awareness flooded back and I froze in place.

  I took stock of my body and where everything was.

  Where I ended and Birdie began was unknown. Her legs tangled with mine, her ass was tucked against me, and my hand... her hand...

  My hand was tucked down her thin shorts with my palm cupping her sex like I was trying to protect her from some unknown assailant defiling her in the middle of the night—besides myself.

  One of her hands was in her shorts too, draped over mine, holding it there.

  Shit.

  Now that I knew where my hand was, it was impossible to ignore the way her delicate, trimmed fur felt coarse, yet irresistibly soft and radiating warmth. Feeling it against my fingertips shot a bolt of awareness straight to my groin.

  And the longer I had to assess every texture, I realized that silky warmth wasn't just her skin or fur, but another substance entirely.

  Unbidden, my digits twitched.

  Then Birdie's did too.

  Her breathing deepened and her ass shifted against my cock that was rapidly taking notice of the situation and readying itself for any occasion.

  Preferably one that involved my cock exploring the cleft between Birdie's thighs.

  I wouldn't forget the sensation of running my length through her slick heat any time soon.

  Unfortunately for me.

  My fingers shifted, just slightly, just enough to burrow the pad of my middle digit in her slit, careful to keep my claw from curling.

  It bumped against something. A hardened nub. The slick flesh fluttered in tune with Birdie's pulse.

  She gave up a breathless moan on her next exhale that was erotic enough to send my hackles rising.

  My eyelids hooded and I had to bite the side of my tongue to keep from groaning.

  Her hand that laid over mine, trembled. Her fingertips pressed against my knuckles. Gripped and dug into them before her middle digit rubbed.

  No... she wouldn't.

  I mimicked her motion, rubbing the pad of my middle finger over the nub. Her breath came quicker, her hips ever so slightly shifted, and her hand squeezed against mine.

  It was the same reaction she'd had last night when my tail touched her there. It wasn't hard to figure out that little protrusion gave her immense pleasure when stimulated.

  It was wrong.

  Touching her body while she was clearly in a vulnerable dream state was devious.

  And yet...

  I didn't stop.

  This simple act was giving us both something we wanted.

  The longer I circled and stroked her, the more she rocked her hips, her plush ass rubbing against my cock.

  It wasn't long before I anticipated each motion and softly bumped against her, creating a blissful friction that had my balls aching and my tip drooling in my shorts.

  I was dangerously lost in the fucking mouth-watering sensations flooding my body when Birdie became fully aware.

  Her hand left mine and drifted up the side of my face. Her head turned, her gaze locking with mine—

  She grinded into my hand, surprising the fuck out of me.

  The way she bit down on her bottom lip, gripped the back of my neck for leverage, and slammed against me?

  There was no damn way I would let her get away before she finished.

  Her flimsy nails dug into my nape, causing my hips to pump against her ass with more vigor than I intended.

  A surprised sound split from her mouth and her lips parted. She didn't expect that. I could tell by the way her pupils dilated and her breath hitched.

  "You like that?" I asked, increasing the pressure of my middle finger.

  She moaned, "Mhm..."

  "What do you call this?" I gently flicked the nub side to side and she gasped.

  When she didn't answer and continued to ride my hand, I slowed my motions, lightly tapping on it. "Birdie..."

  Her frustrated grunt as her hips humped forward, chasing the friction my digit could provide, caused my cock to throb.

  Watching her silently beg for more roused an interest that goaded me to push her limits.

  "Clit," she huffed, pressing her hand against mine and grinding against my finger. Her satisfied moan drove me.

  I wanted her to experience every last drop of pleasure I could twist from her. That beautiful release that turned her into a boneless being in my arms last night?

  I needed to see it again.

  My claws lightly pricked the outside of her wet, sensitive lips while I increased the speed of my circular motions against her clit.

  "Omen," she sighed. My ears shot forward, flicking as my hackles stood up, the enjoyable sensation of hearing my name on her tongue felt in every fiber of my being.

  "Fuck," I snarled against the side of her throat. I kissed her thin, soft skin and my tongue darted out to lash against the bead of sweat that rolled from her temple and down past her delicate jaw.

  She tasted delicious.

  "I'm—I'm—"

  She threw her hips back into me, her spine arched and bowed, her shoulders pressing against my chest.

  The carnal cry that erupted from her almost had me spilling in my shorts.

  Her body bucked and thrashed uncontrollably, vibrated and trembled against me, but I didn't let up. My hand followed her hot slit, back and forth, side to side, riding her through her unbridled climax that threatened to overtake us both.

  "Breathe," I gently commanded.

  She took a shuddering breath, her body still writhing against my hand and her lungs belting cries of ecstasy that would be forever burned into my memory.

  I felt when it was over, when she became so sensitive her pleas turned choppy and her body jerked with the slightest graze against her clit.

  There was a frayed thread stopping me from spreading Birdie's thighs and burying myself between them. If I didn't back away now, I'd be lost.

  She made it abundantly clear she didn't want to go that far. And after what happened, the base instinct that tried to swallow me up last night, I knew anything further than this was a disaster waiting to unfold.

  I pulled my soaked hand from her shorts, untangled myself and leapt off the bed.

  I needed a cold shower or there'd be no turning back.

  15

  BIRDIE

  Two-and-zero.

  That was my current score regarding Omen.

  I dug the heels of my hands into my eye sockets.

  What is wrong with me?

  Did I have no self control anymore?

  I slurped my hot coffee, scalding the inside of my mouth and nearly dropping my mug.

  "Shit!"

  Thinking about Omen and his whole body wasn't my morning mission, even if my brain tried to derail me into believing it was. I had a few more minutes to cram in as many facts about his teammates as I could before we left for Tully Stadium.

  I wanted to make sure I had the proper greetings memorized so I wouldn't have a repeat of the banquet the other night.

  This fake mate stuff was serious business, but my new mantra was soothing.

  A quarter of a million dollars, a quarter of a million dollars, a quarter of a million dollars...

  I sighed, feeling better already.

  Just a couple more weeks to go and I'd be outta here, could pay off all my debt, and then move on with my life plans.

  I told myself the reason for my sudden churning stomach after that thought was because of the coffee. There was no reason to pay it any mind.

  After popping an antacid tablet, I flipped through the alien guide on the dining room table—that I'd specifically ordered in English—speed-skimming over information and making notes of anything that specifically stuck out.

  And because I was honestly trying to be a good fake mate, I'd stuffed a Noda For Dummies in my purse before we left.

  Something had shifted with Omen.

  The short ride to the stadium, he didn't mention what happened last night or this morning. He didn't act distant like some human men did the day after.

  If anything, he stood too close to me, held my hand too long, and it seemed like he touched me at every possible opportunity. A brush of his arm against mine, picking a piece of fuzz off my red silk sweater, his hand briefly on the back of my neck and then at the base of my spine as we moved with the PR team through the impressive halls of the stadium.

  All without skipping a beat.

  He laughed, answered questions about his involvement, and the whole Meteor Mob team, with the cub league and how he wished it'd been formed when he was a youngling because he would've loved it.

  Every time he flashed his brilliantly sharp smile, I had to coach myself to act normal. Like Omen smiling in my direction happened every day and who cared if it had this dizzying roguish charm. Because if I wasn't careful, I would've swooned just like every female reporter there.

  That would not be me.

  "You going to be okay?" he asked close to my ear when we were right at the edge of stepping onto the field. I could hear the kids happy squeals and high-pitched laughter but the high walls on either side of us blocked my view.

  "Yep!" I patted his unyielding chest. "Go do your thing. I'll find a seat."

  He tweaked my chin with his thumb and index finger, eliciting a burst of fluttering in my abdomen, before he jogged out onto the field.

  I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and pulled myself together. Something that simple shouldn't have felt so good. Had to remind myself it was all for show because we were in public and he had to make this look legit.

  That logic soothed me as I found the stairs that led to the seating and climbed them. The field came into full view and my jaw went slack.

  Holy shit...

  It was enormous!

  I'd seen it at a distance from our hotel balcony, but the sheer size was overwhelming in person.

  This is Omen's office.

  The glass ceiling domed over the structure, allowing the bright mid-morning sun to shine directly on the field. The turf was the most vibrant shade of green and the surrounding seating was made of a white material that had an iridescent sheen when a ray of sunlight flickered over it.

  Windowed rooms lined the top two levels and I assumed they were similar to stadium boxes back on Earth. AKA, big money makers.

  I made my way up the side aisle, avoiding the clusters of alien parents seated in the first few rows close to the field. I settled into a seat that was far enough away so I could avoid having to chat with anyone, yet close enough I could see and hear the action on the field.

  Omen's whole team was out there, running drills with kids that seemed to range in age and size. From thigh-high to almost as tall as me. The players still dwarfed them.

  Omen looked up, spotted me, and shot me a smile and two-finger wave.

  I almost swallowed my tongue.

  I fished in my purse and discreetly pulled out Noda For Dummies once the nearby parents stopped giving me curious looks.

  Before I even reached page twenty, my phone chimed with a text from Shelly with a screenshot of me and my book.

  Shelly: Really?

  I glanced up, seeing the press on the other side of the field that I completely missed before. A couple of those damn foreign cameras pointed in my direction.

  I scowled.

  There was a circus of kids looking adorable around a bunch of buff noda players. The last thing people wanted to see was me and my dumbed down guidebook.

  Me: I should've brought a decoy magazine.

  Shelly: I'm so proud of you.

  Shelly: Get Football For Dummies next. This is the year you're going to a Buckeyes game with me!

  Me: Hard pass.

  Shelly: *sad face emoji*

  Shelly: Bill and Ted say hi.

  Another picture came through of my little chihuahuas, but Shelly had stuffed them into scarlet and gray OSU football sweaters, making me homesick.

  A shadow loomed over me and swiftly, three individuals were plopping down in the seats around me. One on either side and the third directly in front.

  "So you're the human everyone's buzzing about," said the person to my left. If bear shifters were real, he'd be one of them. Bipedal, bulky muscle beneath his brown and tan fur, and a muzzle full of sharp teeth.

  "Err—"

  "Probably shouldn't read that here," the female on my right conspiratorially whispered and jutted her pointed pink chin toward the photographers. "Just asking for trouble from the vultures."

  Her long white hair glittered like she had organic strands of sparkly yarn sprouting from her crown, and her blush-colored skin was severely freckled with magenta spots.

  "I'm Tayma." She smiled, revealing her dainty bottom tusks and pointed at the ursidae-looking individual. "That's Joa-Trell, and," she swiveled her digit toward the other person in front of me, "she's Yui."

  Yui didn't have a nose, just a flat expanse where one might be on a human. Wide, round eyes that reminded me of an owl, and raised ridges along her hairless head. Her skin was an ombre of purple and white.

  "Hi!" She greeted me in a nasally voice.

  "Uh, hey," I cautiously replied. "I'm—"

  "Birdie," Tayma interrupted. "We know."

  I gripped my book and regarded them curiously again. "I don't mean to be rude but..."

  "You're wondering why we ambushed you?" Joa-Trell asked and a relieved smile curved my mouth.

  "Nailed it."

  "We wanted to get to you first," Tayma admitted and hitched a thumb over her shoulder. "Before the glamor squad could tempt you to their evil side."

 

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