The big, broad chest and thick thighs don't hurt things either.
I do my best not to stare at any of those attributes, trying to pay attention. The truth of the matter is that I've been thinking very impure thoughts about Khex all day. Very, very impure. I woke up this morning slick between my thighs and aching from the extremely graphic, extremely erotic dream I'd had about Khex, grunting over me as he gave me the orgasm of a lifetime. It's a dream of course, and every alien I've had the misfortune to sleep with never gave a shit about pleasuring me, so I'm likely just fantasizing…
But it makes me realize just how long it's been since I've had sex. Good sex. Breathtaking, orgasm-filled sex that shakes the bed and makes me feel incredible and sexy and empowered.
So yeah, I'm thinking about that and about Khex a lot today. I chew on another pretzel, worried. Am I giving the wrong vibes off to Khex? Is he getting skittish now? Because he's my friend and I'm terrified of losing that friendship. He's the only person I truly feel close to on this planet, and I can't stand the thought of him walking out of my life and disappearing. He's been understanding and friendly and just flat-out amazing since day one of him finding out my secret. He hasn't made shit weird. He hasn't given me a hard time about my hearing loss or nagged me to get it fixed because it's inconvenient. He simply finds ways to work around it.
That makes him utterly dangerous to my heart.
And with him smiling at me as if I'm something important and precious to him? A heated throb starts between my legs again. I've really got to see if the general store here sells something that could be used as a vibrator.
"Are you not enjoying the fight?" he asks, his arm extending over the back of my couch and doing fluttery things to my pulse. He's so big he takes up nearly all of the seating, ensuring that his arm is practically over my shoulders, or would be if we were the same height.
"Me? You're the one that's totally distracted and not paying attention."
He shrugs, his hand picking up a lock of my hair and rubbing it thoughtfully. "I've seen this one."
Flustered, I try not to read into him touching my hair. At least, not too much. I know humans are strange to him and he sometimes uses me as a guinea pig. He asked to squeeze my boob once just to see if it was as jiggly as it felt, and the expression on his face had been downright comical. It's a friend thing. I know it is. I keep telling myself that.
Other than the casual experiment, he's not shown a bit of sexual interest. So I nudge his tail with my foot again. "If you've seen this, then why the hell are we watching it?"
Khex shrugs again. He rubs my hair once more and then moves his arm away entirely, and I try not to feel upset at that. He gets to his feet, moving to the vid screen and pausing the display. "So we need to talk about something."
Oh god. He's figured out that I put on lip stain. He's wondering about my hair. He's not coming over anymore because I'm getting the wrong idea and he's feeling awkward.
Khex scratches at the back of his head, the shorn hair making a bristly sound. "I kinda got us both invited to a party this weekend."
"You…what?" I'm so relieved I feel the urge to laugh aloud. I don't, of course, because I'm confused. "There's a party this weekend?"
He grimaces, his tail slithering back and forth against his backside as he paces in front of the vid panel. "Rektar—you know, the guy I work with at the custodial office."
"The one that's married and likes to eat," I murmur. We've talked about him before. He's brought me several of the cookies and pastries that Rektar's human wife makes for the custodians. They all adore her, and I have to admit, I'm a little jealous that everyone in town seems to be gaga over this Lucy person while I'm known as the loud, annoying one. It sucks. "You've mentioned him."
Khex continues to pace. "He was questioning me about why I was coming over, and how much time I've been spending here, and I didn't want to tell him your secrets, so I just basically said that you were struggling with fitting in. So he said his wife Lucy is throwing some sort of party—a cookie exchange, whatever that is—and that he insisted I bring you." The expression on his big face is downright pained as he looks over at me. "I know you hate gatherings but I didn't know what else to do."