His Human Chapter 1


I was pretty sure he was throwing marshmallows at me.


Marshmallows generally didn’t fall from the sky, even in the grocery store.

But people didn’t just throw food in the grocery store…no matter what species that person happened to be.

And there was another one.

Picking up the flying marshmallow, I stuck it in my pocket with the rest of them and did my best to look boring as I grabbed a box of cereal off the shelf. Cameron would have known what to do, but then again, he had George and a lot more firsthand experience with the fascinating new species that was now sharing our neighborhoods.

The closest thing that I’d had to personal experience was saying hello to some of my neighbors and a few awkward conversations through drainpipes.

But none had ever flirted with me…at least I thought it was flirting.

Stopping by the bread, I snorted as another marshmallow hit my head.

He had remarkable aim—I was starting to wonder if anyone had thought to talk to them about basketball.

But that was a conversation for another time. At the moment I had my thoughts and pockets full of marshmallows. If it were a human guy, I would’ve said they had a childish sense of humor, but it would’ve caught my attention enough to flirt back.

I wasn’t so sure what to do in this situation.

Ignoring it seemed to be the wrong plan because he was deliberately trying to get my attention. Of course, he’d had it from the moment I’d seen him in the store again, but that hadn’t meant I knew what to do about it. Just finding someone attractive wasn’t enough to accost them in the grocery store.

Or at least that’s what I’d thought until the marshmallows started flying.

Maybe they had different courting rituals that hadn’t made it onto the local news yet?

No, I was pretty sure that if Cameron told me about their sex life, he’d have mentioned flying food.

Grabbing a loaf of bread, I took a chance and lobbed a marshmallow back the way it had come. The squeal that followed said I’d missed my intended target.

“Shit.” Whispering quietly to myself, I headed in the opposite direction and did my best to look perfectly innocent.

“Okay, you’re done for now.” And now I was talking to myself.

Knowing that I didn’t always do a fake innocent act very well, I pulled out my phone and tried to look distracted as I came to the end of the aisle in front of the registers. Whoever I’d hit with the marshmallow seemed to have gone in the opposite direction because there was no angry confrontation.

Counting my blessings, I decided cereal and toast would be a wonderful dinner and loaded up the conveyor belt with the odds and ends I’d managed to pick up already.

The woman at the register was polite and didn’t ask too many questions, but I wasn’t sure what to say when she asked if I’d found everything. That was a loaded question if I were to answer it honestly, so I nodded. “Yes, thanks.”

As the small number of groceries were bagged, I sent out a plea to the universe that she wouldn’t be working tomorrow. But considering the way my life was going at the moment, the only person who was listening seemed to have a warped sense of humor.

I asked for work to improve and I ended up with more than I could ever handle.

I asked for a boyfriend and the closest I got to a date was a sexy alien throwing food at me.

Yep, I was going to end up walking through her line tomorrow and then getting arrested for assault with a marshmallow.

I was going to end up on the news like one of those Only in Florida stories.

Heading out of the store with a smile that probably looked somewhat forced, I walked toward my car still trying to decide what to do. I counted my blessings that I wasn’t arrested as I moved across the parking lot, but that shouldn’t have been my primary thought as I left the grocery store. I’d been going to buy dinner, not rob a bank.

I was so wrapped up in my worries, I failed to notice the marshmallow-throwing tease leaning against my car until it was too late.

“How did you get through the checkout so fast?”

Okay, not the most relevant question I could have asked, but he took it somewhat seriously which was kind of cute. Holding out several tentacles, he smiled. “I am very efficient at self-checkout.”

Barking out a laugh, I nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

His smile seemed to get a bit wicked, but it wasn’t until he started to speak that I realized how right my guess had been. “Additional limbs make us very efficient at numerous things.”
Yeah, he could have been talking about building shit or emptying the dishwasher…but I didn’t think so.

“I…um…” I felt my face heating up, but I wasn’t sure what to say.

If it’d been Cameron and George standing there saying something wicked, I’d have had a thousand dirty comebacks…but this wasn’t George.

This was…

George was safe. He was head-over-heels for Cameron, but I’d never had any of them looking at me anywhere close to that. There’d never been the same level of ownership like the way this guy looked at me. It might have been just me, but I didn’t think I was seeing something that wasn’t there.

“I know.”


His face slid back into the pleasant, almost blank expression I was used to seeing from them. I scrambled to fix it. “No, I mean, my friend is in a…well, they’re…I mean…”

I sounded like a moron.

Okay, words weren’t my most efficient form of communication right now. Remembering what Cameron had said, I focused my thoughts on how sexy I thought the man standing in front of me was and how curious I was about him.

Ha. At least I got something right.

The guy’s teasing expression started to return as he must have smelled my reaction to him. It was super weird, but at the moment, I appreciated the simplicity of it. “You are friends with one of us?”

That was a reasonable guess and helped to jump-start my brain. “Um, no, well, kind of. My best friend is in a serious relationship with someone who’s…I mean, he’s one of you guys.”
I’d worded that badly, but he just smiled. “Ah, am I to assume that it is a very…significant relationship between them?”

Nodding, I swallowed several times, trying to decide how to respond. Cameron said that while most vanilla humans might not understand, their relationship was something to be sought after in the alien community.

“Um, they’re in a BDSM relationship…I mean they’re partners…” Shit. What had George called them? “No, George says they’re bonded.”

His eyes widened. “Ah, I have heard rumors of that being possible but have not known anyone in that type of relationship.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of that, so I kept going. “They didn’t realize it was a thing either.”

While it had come as a surprise to Cameron, he’d taken the idea really well. I guess it helped that he had a Dom with a dirty mind who lived for taking control and who might as well have been reading his every thought.

Reading body language was nothing compared to being able to smell desire in a sub.

I must have been thinking about that a little too hard because his smile looked almost wicked for a quick second and a tentacle started stroking my ankle. It was technically a very innocent touch and I was in public with what was usually the most well-behaved species in the universe, so there was no reason to worry, but I had to fight back the urge to moan.

When the tip slipped under the leg hole of my jeans and stroked my calf, I couldn’t hold back the shiver. His face was still pleased and I could see a hint of the wicked side peeking out, but he was too damned relaxed for what he was doing to me.

“What is your opinion on the bonding my people sometimes form?” He had to repeat the words twice before I caught everything.

“I…um…” I swallowed as his tentacle wrapped around my ankle and started caressing it almost like it was my dick. The constant slow twisting motion had me hard and more distracted than I’d ever been just standing in a parking lot.


I was in the parking lot of the grocery store.

“We’re in public.” Yeah, that would’ve sounded better if it hadn’t come out so breathy and low.

He made a sound like he was very pleased with himself and kept up the teasing touch. “Your people’s domination relationships have very specific words to stop physical contact. I find it to be a fascinating style of joining.”

A smarter person wouldn’t have been so pleased to hear that he knew what domination was…but I’d never claimed to be smart. Hardworking, yes. I was also impulsive and submissive and terminally stupid when it came to a sexy Dom who knew what he wanted.

I was going to end up fucked in the grocery store parking lot.


I’d get arrested for throwing marshmallows and public indecency.


Was it indecent if he could wiggle one of those tentacles up the leg of my pants and fuck me that way?

“Do you have a safeword, little human?”

It would’ve been easier to answer that if he’d stopped masturbating my ankle, but I wasn’t willing to go that far just to talk more clearly.

“I…yes…I…the stoplight colors.” I took in a breath to help my brain work better. “Do you know those…I mean…how that…”


Moaned again.

He chuckled, sending another shiver through me. “Yes, little human, I have read about your colors that indicate permissive behaviors.”

He had to either stop getting me off or say things more simply.

“You’ve been researching us…I mean…” What had I been trying to ask? Oh yeah. “…BDSM?”

“Yes.” He was clearly the king of multitasking because pleasuring me didn’t break his concentration at all. “I have been interested in your domination-based relationships for quite some time. However, meeting a human who has the same interests is not as easy as your pleasure-based movies make it seem.”

Yeah, nothing in porn was real.


Who knew the back of my knee was so sensitive?

I sucked in a ragged breath. “Yeah, dating is hard.”

Ha, full sentence without moaning.

“Are you interested in dating with the goal of beginning a domination-based relationship?” He made a low, thoughtful sound. “That word is not specific enough for my meaning, however. Your language has many variations.”

Okay, that explained the odd sentence structure.

See, this shit was important, not the scientific crap the TV news wanted to shove down everyone’s throats.

“Are you asking me to…” I had to suck in another breath as his limb got even higher up my leg. I was going to tell him to stop at some point, right?

Doing my best not to get distracted or come, I fought to answer him. “…to go on a date?”

I was pretty sure I wasn’t reading the situation wrong, but I wanted to double-check before I actually orgasmed…or asked where he wanted to go for dinner.

“Yes, little human.” He made a low pleased sound when I moaned again. “You are a very sensitive species. And you smell quite nice, sweet like the desserts you treasure.”

That was the cutest compliment ever.

“Thank you.” Okay, what had we been talking about before the compliment?

Oh, date.

He picked up the conversation before I could find my brain. “Will you accompany me to an evening meal, little human?”


“Yes.” Something was nagging at the back of my brain, though. “I…”

What was it?


“What’s your name?” Yes, we needed names first and orgasms second.

He kept up the wonderful teasing caresses as he calmly answered. “Maverick is the human name I have chosen, little human. What is your moniker?”

It was like talking to a sexy-as-fuck dictionary.

Who knew that was a kink?

“Trip. I’m Trip.” I was Trip and I was going to come in the grocery store parking lot.

Maverick made another happy sound. “You smell extremely good, Trip. Much better than I have ever encountered from a human.”

When my brain was working again, I was going to think about that statement, but for the moment standing was difficult, so it could wait.

“I’m glad. You’re making…it hard to think and—” I forced myself to take a breath and figure out what to say. I probably shouldn’t tell him I was going to orgasm if he didn’t stop…because he might actually stop.

“If thoughts are difficult, then perhaps I should decide on our evening out.” His words were casual, but I had a feeling he was very pleased with himself. “I realize I must let you take your groceries to your place of residence. Therefore, how does meeting in one hour at Angelo’s Steakhouse work in your schedule?”

One hour?

“I…” Was that enough time? “Two hours. Let’s say two.”

That was probably a better option.

“But you shall show up at the appropriate time, little human?” There was something in his voice that had me paying more attention.

“I won’t ditch you.” His limb tightened in what I could only assume to be pleasure. “I just need a shower and to clean up.”

Thinking was entirely too difficult.

“I am very pleased to hear that.” His tentacle started easing lower on my leg and I had to fight back the urge to groan in frustration.

I realized I hadn’t hidden that very well when he laughed. “Giving you pleasure in public is not deemed appropriate in your culture.”


“Yeah, but logic sucks sometimes.” I wasn’t sure if he’d understand the slang, but when he made another quiet laughing sound, I knew he got it.

“But I cannot have us incarcerated, so we will have to wait until later to continue our interaction.” From the tone of his voice, he knew what he was doing to me and he was going to use that to his advantage to make sure I showed up for dinner.

It was a bit devious, but I liked that in a guy.

Want to read the rest?

All Trip wants is the man of his dreams. If that guy comes with tentacles and an interesting sense of humor, that’s even better.

When Trip meets Mr. Right—who’s actually more like Mr. Sexy With Tentacles—at the grocery store, of all places, he’s expecting fun and hoping for a bit of domination if he’s lucky. But the one thing he isn’t expecting is for the sexy alien with a passion for control and taking care of his new human to essentially move in.

As one date turns into something more than either of the men had planned, it might take a few old friends to step in and open their eyes to what’s been in front of them the whole time…love.