Invasive Species Read online

  He pulled back enough to look her in the eyes. She hadn’t noticed how vibrantly green his were before—almost like he was wearing colored contacts.

  “I will let you go, step away, pack up my stuff, and leave right now if you want me to. Or make you pancakes in the morning if the only thing you let me do is crash on your couch so I don’t have to make it home with this raging hard-on.”

  She laughed at the last, her tension easing. His grip loosened and he shifted farther away.

  “Wait,” she said. “I’m not saying I want to stop. I just didn’t expect the wrist thing.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have asked first. The way you were touching me…” He shook his head. “If you keep touching me like that, this isn’t going to last long at all. And I want it to.”

  Her breath caught, her heart pounding. Of course, he only meant the sex. They’d just met. He couldn’t be saying things like… Like the thoughts she wasn’t letting herself think. The longing she was trying desperately to ignore.

  She’d never met anyone like him before. She didn’t want this to be a one-night stand.

  “Kiss me, Kyle.”

  He lowered his weight back to her and laughed. “Gender-bending Shakespeare mashup. You are too perfect.”

  She couldn’t believe he’d made the connection. Dammit.

  He was perfect, too.

  Chapter Three

  This was absolute bliss. Kyle had never had a lover who used her hands so much. Tracey seemed as eager to explore his skin as she was to have him slide into her. He groaned against her neck at the thought.

  Not yet.

  When she’d slid her hands up the back of his shirt, pressing her forearms against him, skin-to-skin, he’d almost lost control. Okay, he had lost control a little. Giving her an orgasm in her hallway hadn’t been part of his original plan.

  The rest of it? He’d been planning what he’d do to her if she took him home pretty much since the moment they’d started talking.

  He ran his hand down her arm, then grasped her small breast through her shirt. Her nipple was hard and tight. He flicked his thumb over it and she gasped. Later on, he’d spend more time there. For now, he needed to fuck her.

  He shifted his hand to her core, cupping its heat and wetness. His dick jerked, radiating waves of pleasure so intense, he thought he might come against her leg. He pressed himself harder against her as she moaned beneath him.

  Slowly and carefully—fighting every urge that screamed at him to hurry, to drive himself home over and over again right now—he slid a finger deep into her, pressing on her clit with the heel of his hand as he did.

  She gasped, her body pressing tight against him as her back tried to arch beneath his weight. He wanted her to come again. When she’d come in the hall, it was almost like a drug, how it had hit his system. He wanted to experience as much of that as she’d give him.

  More fingers explored her slickness. He stretched them gently, making sure she was ready for him. He only wanted to give her pleasure—greater pleasure than she’d ever known. The higher she went, the higher he knew he’d go along with her.

  There was no friction, no resistance. She was so wet. Her core clenched against his fingers, begging for more. He sped his hand, increased the pressure against her clit, rubbing it as he slid his fingers in and out of her.

  “Kyle.” His name came out as a groan. “Please.”

  She was ready, he was sure. But he wanted this first. Again and again and again.

  He shifted more of his weight on her, but kept up the movement of his hand. Then he lowered his lips to her neck and started sucking on the spot just below her ear that had had her thrashing against him earlier.

  Her hips bucked against him as she gasped, her core tightening, clenching his fingers in rhythmic contractions. He let go of her neck so he could watch her expression.

  Her eyes were shut tight, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she let out little grunts that resonated in his chest.

  His dick was so hard. He lined himself up, nestled between her thighs, and waited, basking in her orgasm as he kept coaxing it on, slowing his fingers a bit.

  The moment she started to relax, he pulled his hand away and drove himself into her.

  “Oh God,” she screamed, her eyes flicking open.

  Her core was tight, still throbbing with aftershocks of the orgasm she was still coming down from. Her stomach rubbed against his as she arced beneath him again. He pressed himself against her, pounding his hips against hers, feeling her clench his dick.

  She wrapped her legs around his thighs and pulled against his grip on her wrists. He let her go, but grabbed a handful of hair so he could pull her head to the side and kiss her neck again.

  She pulled up his shirt as high as she could get it. The friction of the material took hers up with it. He could feel those tight nipples rubbing against his chest, her soft skin blazing with heat against him. She dragged her fingertips up his back, wrapping her arms around his chest.

  Lightning skittered over his skin, through his flesh, into his bones. She tightened her legs, drawing him deeper into her body, hips moving against his as she matched his powerful thrusts. Then she slid her hands over his back, pushing his jeans and boxer-briefs down even farther to cup his ass and squeeze.

  “Moons, Tracey.” He yelled her name as the lightning struck everywhere at once.

  His dick pulsed as he quickened to a near frenzied pace. Nothing could feel this good. His nerves were hyper-alive everywhere they touched, sending out pleasure in blasts that made his vision blur and go dark at the edges.

  She screamed his name just as her body coiled around him, her core squeezing harder. Her head thrashed against the carpet while her entire body throbbed with energy beneath him.

  He kept pounding into her, only slowing when the throbbing in her core finally began to fade. She was still clutching his ass with her hands, his thighs with her legs—as if she didn’t want to let him leave her body.

  He kept his hips pressed tightly to hers as he shifted his arms so he could lift himself up on his elbows. The movement sent more waves of pleasure through him—muted and gentler, yet still intense. She shivered, but didn’t let him go.

  Her eyes were shut tight and she was frowning.

  He’d thought she’d been ready, but what if he was wrong? He’d never let himself go that much with anyone before while having sex, never felt such a strong connection. If he’d ruined that…

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Why ‘moons’?”

  “What?”

  “You yelled out ‘moons’.”

  “It’s just an expression we use in my family,” he said. “We’re all astronomy geeks.”

  “Great.” She still hadn’t opened her eyes.

  “Would you please look at me?” he asked.

  She shook her head. A quick jerk from side to side. “I don’t want to. If I open my eyes, you won’t be there and I’ll realize this has all been a dream.”

  A tremor ran through him as his body actually shook with relief. He lowered his head to the floor and let out a breath.

  “That scared the crap out of me,” he said.

  “I’m still scared.”

  He rose up above her again, wanting to see her face, and another of those shivers coursed through her. Her eyes were still shut.

  “Tracey…”

  “If I open my eyes, and you are there, what if this is just a one-night stand for you? Or worse, what if it isn’t, but we don’t live up to each other’s expectations and things don’t work out?”

  Goosebumps rose along his chest at her words. Not the part about things not working out, but that she wanted this to be more than a single encounter.

  “It isn’t and we will. At least, we can try.”

  Slowly, she opened one eye, then the other.

  “Still here.” He smiled, hoping to ease her nerves. />
  “Yeah. I am very aware.”

  Her breath hitched, and he felt her core squeeze his dick. He fought to stifle a groan.

  “So… What’s next?” she said.

  He looked over at the near full box of condoms, then back to her with a raised brow.

  A huge smile spread across her face. Her eyes crinkled at the corners even.

  She laughed and said, “And then pancakes.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Chapter Four

  Tracey woke up tangled in the sheets of her bed, feeling sore and relaxed and oh-so-happy with her life choices. Pancakes hadn’t happened during the remainder of the night. She couldn’t care less.

  Kyle was stretched out behind her, one arm splayed above his head and the other draped across his chest. She carefully rolled over so she could watch him sleep without waking him.

  His eyelashes were thick and dark. So were his sideburns. She’d expected him to look relaxed and cute as he slept, but there were creases between his eyebrows. His chest rose and fell steadily, but his breaths were shallow and his skin was paler than she’d remembered.

  For a moment, she wondered if he was having one of the allergic reactions he’d talked about last night, but then he said, “Good morning.”

  “Hi. I mean, good morning.”

  He smiled, and some of the unease left her. There hadn’t been too many times when she’d woken up next to someone. Usually, she went to their place or sent them home after a little bit of fun. Last night had been a whole lot of fun. Hours and hours of fun. She wondered when the awkwardness of “the morning after” would set in.

  She looked over at the clock to see how long they’d slept in. Past noon. Thankfully, it was the weekend.

  Kyle stretched, then winced.

  “You okay?” she said.

  He smiled again, and this time opened his bright green eyes to stare up at her. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

  “Did I wear you out last night?”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  His smile turned playful as he sat up and caught her lips with his. He kept his momentum going, rolling her onto her back and laying on top of her as his tongue delved into her mouth. She wrapped her leg around his thigh to encourage him as he ran his hand along her side and down past her ass, rocking against her.

  How many condoms did they have left? She wasn’t sure she cared.

  That had never happened before, either. Kyle was full of firsts for her. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

  Feeling his dick slide against her inner thigh, hard and ready… It was tempting to just shift her hips a little and let him line up to drive back into her again.

  But then he stopped, dropping his head to the side of her neck and letting out a sigh. She couldn’t tell if it was one of frustration or contentment.

  “I owe you pancakes,” he said, with one last long stroke against her.

  “Pancakes can wait.”

  She felt him laugh, a rumbling vibration that travelled all through her body. Last night, he’d moaned or gasped or plowed into her faster every time she touched him. She wrapped her arms around him, gently brushing his skin with her forearms as she trailed her fingers along the sides of his spine.

  He sucked in a breath, but then lifted himself up, grabbing her arms and pinning them above her head again with both wrists held in one strong hand. The angle put more pressure on her clit where his hips pressed against hers, and she started wriggling against him. He groaned, pushing his hips harder against hers until she stopped.

  “Pancakes first,” he said. “Or we’ll stay in bed until we starve.”

  “Fine.” Was she pouting? She felt like she was pouting. She never pouted.

  Kyle leaned down and kissed her again—a light, playful kiss. Then he rolled away from her. He listed to the side as soon as he stood, spreading his arms to right himself.

  Tracey rose so she was kneeling on the bed, not that she’d be able to actually catch him if he fell, with how big he was. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He turned and smiled at her. “You just have a profound effect on me.”

  Part of her thrilled at the compliment. Most of her started to worry. The ashen color of his skin was turning a little green. Maybe he was coming down with the flu.

  He started to dress, pulling on his pants and shirt, then sat down heavily on the bed.

  “You are not fine,” she said. She hopped out of bed and grabbed her own clothes, pulling them on as quickly as she could.

  Tracey had an aunt who was diabetic. He was almost acting like she did when her blood sugar levels became too low.

  “I’m…” He shook his head, then suddenly stiffened. “What time is it?”

  “Twelve-thirty,” Tracey said.

  “Shit.” He leapt up from the bed, staggering toward the door.

  “What is it?”

  “My allergy shot. I’m supposed to take it every morning at eight.”

  “You’re only a few hours late,” she said. “Is it really that big a deal?”

  She followed him as he stumbled down the hall, wanting to reach out to him. He kept falling against the wall. She’d be flattened if she came too close.

  “I tried to not take it a few times when I was a kid. I always became sicker than I’ve ever been and caved within two hours.”

  It had been twice that long since he was supposed to take it. What was going to happen to him?

  He dropped to his knees by his messenger bag. The contents were still scattered across the floor from when they’d arrived.

  “Where is it?” He started rifling through the pile of stuff.

  A bit of the clear plastic was sticking out from the side opposite him. “Under the notebook.”

  He let out a sigh, then brushed the notebooks out of the way. She knew something was wrong before he even reached for it. His back stiffened and his chest stilled as if he was holding his breath.

  He picked up the injector and held it up. “It’s already been deployed. It must have happened when I dumped everything out last night.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He shook his head, the movement making him unsteady so that he had to reach out and catch himself with one hand braced against the floor. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I’ll call an ambulance.”

  “That won’t help. Carol—my mom—is a geneticist. She makes this formula especially for me.”

  “You call your mom by her first name?”

  “Priorities,” he ground out.

  “Right, sorry.” She pushed away her panic.

  This was just like the time she’d had to take Sally to the ER during High School when she’d sprained her ankle during volleyball practice. Or that time Paul had hit Jamie in the head with that baseball bat—accidentally, of course.

  Tracey took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She’d deal with the emotional aftermath later.

  “There has to be something we can do,” she said.

  “I have more at my place. It isn’t far.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  Her purse was on the floor near Kyle’s bag. She took a step to pick it up, but he caught her arm.

  “This isn’t how I wanted our first date to end,” he said.

  “Who said it’s over?” She smiled, hoping it masked some of the panic she was feeling, then quickly kissed him. Pulling on his hand, she helped him to his feet. “Come on. You still owe me pancakes.”

  Chapter Five

  Kyle’s body was on fire. His skin crawled, his mouth itched, his throat was raw. His eyes burned from the light pouring in through the windows of the car and his ears felt plugged from all the sounds surrounding him. Tires on the pavement, displaced air from traffic, the clanging, clamoring sounds of the city.

  But he was with Tracey. He couldn’t believe how much that comforted him already in the short time since they’d met.

  “You still with me?” sh
e asked, for the dozenth time.

  “Yeah.”

  He kept his eyes clenched shut and tried not to barf. Barfing on their first date was not okay. It was bad enough he was curled in a ball in the passenger’s seat, trying to make his stupid muscles stop cramping.

  “Come on, come on…” She honked her horn again. The sound reverberated through his skull. His brain felt like it was turning to mush.

  “Could you not use the horn? It’s too loud.”

  “Sorry.”

  He felt the car swerve, his stomach lurching with the movement. Someone else honked, the sound equally painful.

  “Maybe we should call an ambulance so they can take you to your place,” she said. “Sirens would help cut through this fucking traffic.”

  “Such language.” His teeth clacked as he spoke, and he realized he was shivering. “You k-k-kiss your Grandma with that mouth?”

  “My Grandma’s the one who taught me to swear. Shit. I’m going to try the side streets. It’s longer, but there’s less traffic.”

  He felt the car swerve again, then the sound of rushing wind around him lessened. He let out a sigh at the one-less-stimulus and said, “I think I want a first date do-over.”

  “Are you kidding? Emergency aside, this is still the best date I’ve ever had.”

  A rush of not-pain flooded through him, dulling the alerts his body was sending to his brain. “Me, too.”

  She let out a snort. “Right. Your date with the nerdgirl—”

  He didn’t let her finish. “Nerdy girls are the best girls.”

  “You are not allowed to die. Because I am so keeping you.”

  There was a breathy quality to her voice, as if she’d been trying to whisper the second part of her statement. He heard it loud and clear, though, even over the cacophony on the street.

  Another rush of not-pain hit him. Goosebumps tore across his flesh, more intense even than when she’d touched him earlier. His dick hardened, his muscles swelled, his brain felt like it was about to explode.

  His ears started buzzing. The only sound that was louder was the pounding of his heart.