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An Office Alien Christmas Collection (Office Aliens Book 5)

Page 7

by V. C. Lancaster


  “You can either delete the photo, or I’m keeping your Gadjit for a week,” he grumbled.

  “A week?!”

  “Which is it?”

  “…Can I see the photo?”

  He looked puzzled but turned the screen so she could see it. It was a good photo, a damn good photo. It didn’t capture his colours perfectly or the exact lustre of his scales but… His muscles were there, and the relaxed frill of his crest, his sleepy face, and the way he was hugging the pillow as if it was her.

  “Save the photo,” Bia pouted, willing to give up her Gadjit. Then she’d get it back in a week, but she hadn’t yet managed to capture a photo that good and she’d been trying for almost two months.

  “Seriously?” Kez asked, looking at her like she’d just asked him to hold her head underwater.

  She nodded.

  Kez looked again at the photo, frowning as if trying to see what she saw. Then he grunted and tossed the device onto the bed next to her, swinging his leg off her to stand and head for the door.

  Bia gasped, ecstatic. “I can keep it?!”

  Kez just grunted again.

  She grabbed it and hurried after him. “Really?”

  “Really,” he sighed, starting up the stairs.

  “Really really?!” Bia ran after him until she was right behind him and could watch his ass.

  “Really really.”

  See, that was the thing a lot of people didn’t get about Kez. He pretended to be much meaner than he really was, at least to her. He was always threatening this or that, but he always caved at the slightest hint that she might be anything but pleased.

  “Yay! Thank you, Kez!” she cried. Maybe this meant she could take more photos of him… She ran into him as he stopped at the top of the stairs, the basement door open. He turned and when she smacked into his chest, he grabbed her to keep her from falling down the stairs.

  “Bia! Be more careful,” he chastised her. “And put a shirt on before you come upstairs.”

  “Huh? Why?” She looked down at herself. She was as dressed as he was in a pair of silk shorts.

  He folded his arms and fixed her with a look.

  She looked again. Did he mean because her colours were showing? She knew they sat over the scales on her chest where her milk would come if she had a baby, and she knew that wasn’t the same for everybody, and she knew Kez seemed to have a fixation for them, but… “It’s just Til.” No one else would see them, and Til was female. He couldn’t object to her. She was old, and the closest Bia had to a mother. She had seen Bia’s colours countless times before.

  Bia laughed and moved to pass him, but he blocked her path and then Bia found herself pushed up against the wall, and Kez bent in front of her, his mouth hot and wet on the scales in question. His tongue probed between her scales where they could be separated, licking the overly-sensitive membrane underneath, and Bia shuddered, letting out a trembling moan at the sudden attack. He kept her arms pinned by her sides until he decided a moment later that she’d had enough.

  Bia watched him lick his lips – his perfect, dark green lips that were the perfect complementing opposite of her purple – then he leaned in to speak into her ear.

  “You are not the only one with a heat coming up, shalzai,” he murmured. “So do me a favour and put a shirt on, or Til will see more than your colours, she’ll see me open you up on the kitchen table.”

  Bia trembled, cursing her body for not being in heat yet, and nodded. Kez’s words, his voice, made her ache inside but it wasn’t time yet, and her body was still closed. Even if she wanted to drag him back downstairs and throw him on the bed, they couldn’t do anything.

  It was very unfair of him to set her aflame like that when he knew that.

  She turned on shaky legs, and he gave her a gentle pat on the ass to send her on her way. That made her feel better. She went to put a shirt on, rooting out one of Kez’s because, while she was doing what she was told, that didn’t mean she would be good. He brought it out in her.

  When she came back upstairs, she knew he noticed from the way he watched her from the corner of his eye, his shaded contact lenses making his eyes brown rather than red, but he didn’t say anything.

  She made herself a cup of coffee, squirting a crown of whipped cream on top and stirring it in. Teissians didn’t like coffee, but Bia had always been fascinated by it. The humans loved it, craved it, depended on it. She had drunk it to fit in, to try to understand it, and since she’d started working at the DETI café, she’d developed the same dependency. She loved it when it was sweet and creamy and sharp. Kez didn’t understand, but he let her have as much as she liked. He just also made sure she had enough choba to keep her scales healthy. She’d lost interest in it, it was so dull compared to coffee, but it was good for her, so she would wrinkle her nose and force it down. Kez always gave her a kiss afterwards, which made it better.

  She knew others didn’t understand why she liked him as much as she did but, colours aside, his sternness came across to her not as grumpy or miserable as other people called him, but as masculine and noble, admirable. He was older than her, yes, but she liked that. He was a real man, as the humans said. He was mature, intelligent. He wasn’t silly or annoying like some of the males her own age, tripping over themselves to show off. She didn’t want a mate who was the same as her, she wanted someone who complemented her. She wanted someone who could handle her, who would keep her safe when she felt like being a little silly herself.

  Kez did all of it, and that was that on that, as far as Bia was concerned. She loved him, and if anyone asked, he was perfect in every way. He was handsome, stylish, an enthralling lover, an enterprising businessman, a capable housekeeper, and he supported her in whatever she wanted to do with her life. He thought she was cute when she acted up and never commented on her clothes, and really he hadn’t even got mad about her taking photos of him when he slept. He’d tried, but she could tell he was more flattered than annoyed. He just wanted to enforce the principle.

  Kez was the perfect mate. If she was the only one who saw that, then it was her win, and everyone else’s loss.

  Yes, he had a problem with taking things that weren’t his, but he was working on it, going to therapy, and he’d been very good lately. She didn’t mind, he was welcome to anything of hers. If he’d taken something she needed, she just asked and he would give it back, looking sheepish. It was better he take her things, and everything stay in the house, than stealing from his customers or suppliers.

  She took her coffee to the dining table and sat kicking her feet and giggling as she set the photo she had taken as her background, experimenting with filters and the placement of heart emojis. Her mate didn’t just have a handsome face, he had a sexy body too.

  He put a plate down in front of her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, running his hand down her neck and letting his claw points drag, making her shiver. He knew exactly what he was doing.

  “Put that down and eat, or you’ll be late for work.”

  She did as he asked, since he’d gone to the trouble of making breakfast for her. Kez liked Balin food, but if Bia wanted anything else, she could get it at work. She dug in. Kez sat beside her and watched, sipping his hot cup of choba in silence. Then he sighed.

  “You’re hungry.”

  Bia swallowed, and paused. Maybe, but so what? She looked at him, off-guard.

  “It looks like your heat will arrive right on schedule.”

  Bia’s stomach turned, and she sat back, poking at her food instead. She knew what he was trying to say. He didn’t want her to go to the party that night, but Bia really wanted to. She’d never been to a party before, not a real one that had more than four people. And this wasn’t just any party, it was a Christmas party. If she missed this one, she would have to wait a whole year for the next one.

  But her stupid heat was coming. Suddenly she wasn’t looking forward to it anymore.

  Kez reached out, covering her hand with his. “Do
n’t make that face. It’s not a bad thing.”

  “I want to go to the party,” she argued. How many times had she said those words in the last few weeks? How many times had he reminded her she was due for a heat on the same night?

  “Bia, shalzai… It’s not just jealousy that makes me tell you you can’t.”

  She scowled at him. “You’re not trying to stop me from going to work.”

  “I can smell how long you have. If you come home on time, it will be enough. But tonight will be too late. You know you always start at night.” He stroked his thumb claw over her wrist, trying to soothe or persuade her. “I am the same, can’t you smell it on me?” He leaned forward as if offering himself up for sniffing and forced a playfulness into his voice. He was trying to distract her.

  She wouldn’t let him, and didn’t take the bait, staying where she was. “I want to go to the party,” she repeated.

  He dropped the playful act and hissed in frustration, standing and turning his back to her, starting the dishes just to do something with his hands. “And what am I supposed to do? You want me to let you walk into a room of males, all of them smelling how much you want to be fucked? I am your mate, you know, and you want me to approve of this?”

  “I want you to come too.”

  He snorted. “Right. You want my hard cock at your disposal, you mean. Maybe you want me to fuck you in the halls, so you can stay until the last minute.”

  Bia sighed and got to her feet. She knew he was just being dramatic. He was pissed off because he wanted to keep her safe and snug in their bedroom, where they could fuck in private and he could take care of her, where they would have everything they needed. But Bia really, really wanted to go to the party. It was supposed to be magical. She wanted to see the humans do Christmas. She wanted to see the fake snow, and the dancing.

  She wrapped her arms around Kez’s waist and pressed her face between his shoulders, holding him tight. “Please come with me to the party.”

  “You’re not giving me much choice,” he protested, and she knew she’d won.

  Bia had heard that she was ‘spoiled’ before, that it was because she was Balor, but she didn’t see why giving up the things she wanted was better than having them. She gave Kez the things that were important to him, she thought she was kind to him, she helped him wherever she could, like with his stealing and his therapy. But this was something that mattered more to her than it did to him. He was just being possessive, and worrying about her. She didn’t need him to worry about her. She would never, ever go with another male, and as long as she had him, she knew she would be perfectly fine.

  And if he didn’t realise that she would stay home if he refused to go, because even she was not stupid enough to go alone to a party on the edge of her heat, well… She wasn’t going to tell him. He’d rather go than disappoint her, which told her that the risk was not really so great.

  She squeezed him, giving him a little shake, and kissed the back of his neck. “Yay, thank you, enur,” she murmured, knowing how the endearment affected him. It meant ‘husband’ to the Balor, but in Balin, it was a male a female chose to look after her, protect and provide and make decisions for her. It was a great and rare honour, so rare the practice was more of a myth before they were forced to emigrate to Earth. Bia was Balor, but had been raised by the Balin after the death of her parents. Kez had been raised Balin, but his father was Balor. To the two of them, the line blurred between the meanings of the word ‘enur’. He was a husband she had chosen for herself.

  He grumbled, but his hand covered hers where it sat on his stomach.

  “And I don’t mind if you fuck me in the halls, if that’s what you want. Then everyone will know who I belong to.”

  He sucked in a breath. “You’re manipulating me.”

  “Everyone will be able to smell how much I want to be fucked by you, my mate. They’ll all be thinking about it, knowing what we’re going to do when we leave-”

  Kez looked over his shoulder at her, interrupting her. He didn’t look angry anymore, and she smiled. He turned in her hold, wrapping his arms around her. “Do you know what a brat is?” he asked, his voice low and his eyes narrowed. It was a look that sent a thrill of anticipation through her. Maybe she liked working him up just a little too much. “It’s a badly-behaved child. That’s what you are. A brat.”

  “I’m not a child,” she said, lifting her face for a kiss, in case he needed reminding.

  He didn’t kiss her though. “Maybe not,” he said, and rubbed her forehead with his thumb. “But you are certainly mischievous, and I’m starting to think nothing I do will ever change that.” Then he consented to kiss her, the sensation of his scaled lips against hers stopping her breath. “And you’re going to be late for work.”

  After being kissed like that with her mate in her arms, Bia didn’t really feel like going to work. “Maybe we could just stay here?...”

  He crooked a brow. “If you’re too hungry for me to go to work, you definitely can’t go to the party.”

  “Can’t you give me something to delay my heat? You have all those medicines, and I know you know how to use them.”

  “I do, and I won’t give a single one to you. I’ve learned my lesson from Ro. No more playing with people’s heats.”

  “You sell them!”

  “Only to people I don’t care about. I have to make a living after all. But I’m not poisoning my mate.”

  “Urgh, fine.” She let him go. “I’ll go get ready.”

  “You’re lucky my control is better than yours,” he issued as a parting shot.

  She wanted to argue, but… No. She knew it was always her who ended up begging him to take her and make the pain go away. She liked it that way. Maybe she was a bit of a brat, but she liked it when he took care of her, and took charge of her, and spoiled her.

  ****

  The morning at the café went quickly for Bia. She liked working the till and talking to people and handing out cakes, and that morning in particular she was filled with an almost manic energy as her heat approached. It was easy to laugh and smile, clear tables and restock the displays.

  Axle, the young human man who worked the same shifts she did, was not ‘bubbly’ like she was, that day or any other. Bia got the impression that he didn’t like the job as much as she did, but he did it seriously enough. She loved the smell of coffee and sugar, the hiss of the milk steamer, and the heat that came off the ovens in the back. Her scales protected her from the minor burns and cuts he was victim to, though she had been too careless when she’d first started and burned all the colour out of her scales with the steamer. Kez hadn’t liked that, not at all. But she never had to pick up after Axle or cover for his mistakes, or do something he should have done. He wasn’t a ‘slacker’ and Bia knew the café had one or two of those.

  Axle was shy, and preferred to be quietly diligent in the background, so they had silently agreed that Bia would work the till and take orders, while Axle put them together. Everyone was happy that way. The customers were greeted with a smile, Axle didn’t have to talk to anyone, and Bia didn’t get flustered and panic when the orders piled up and she forgot which went where.

  Their manager would come out to help with the lunch rush, and cover their breaks, but for now it was just the two of them in a quiet moment between customers.

  “What are your plans for Christmas?” she asked him, wiping down the counters while he rearranged the displays, seeing whether they needed more of anything just yet. Bia loved to hear about humans’ Christmas plans. They all sounded so lovely! Time with family, sometimes in another part of the country, or even the world! Presents, siblings, children… Bia couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have all those things, but she thought if she heard about enough different ones, she might get closer to what it would look like for her.

  “I’m Jewish,” Axle said simply.

  “What’s that?”

  Axle paused, then gave her a look she couldn’t decipher. �
�If you weren’t from another planet, I might be offended right now. Christmas is a Christian thing, I’m Jewish. It’s a different religion.”

  “Oh. I thought Christian was a man’s name?”

  Axle touched his forehead with the back of his hand briefly. “Christians believe in Jesus Christ, hence Christmas, the celebration of his birth. Jewish people don’t believe that Jesus was the son of God. Still a good guy, but not the son of God. We celebrate Hanukkah, an eight-day festival commemorating the recapture of the temple in Jerusalem.”

  “Eight days? Is that fun? What do you do?”

  Bia listened to Axle teach her about Hanukkah, about lighting candles and giving gifts and eating latkes.

  “It starts tomorrow, in fact,” he said with a smile. “I’m off to my parents’ as soon as I leave here.”

  “You’re not going to the party?” Bia asked, dismayed on his behalf.

  He shrugged. “Nah. I don’t mind missing it. I feel like it’s more for them, you know? People who work for DETI, not just people who work in the building, like us.”

  “Is there a difference?” It was the first Bia had heard of it, and now she was worried. Maggie and Ro had invited her, insisting she should come, and they were the organisers, but… Would she be embarrassing herself? Was that why Kez didn’t want to go? She knew he didn’t work at DETI anymore, but she had thought everyone would be welcome.

  Axle just shrugged again. “Next year we should have our own party,” he said, smiling and leaning against the counter. “Catering, Estates, Security, I.T…. All the support teams.”

  “That doesn’t sound fun, splitting everyone up like that,” Bia objected. Bia was sure Maggie had said those teams went to the party too. Why should they need a party of their own?

  “But we know those guys better than the admin people, don’t we? Don’t you get the feeling the suits don’t really talk to us?”

  “They talk to me… You don’t talk to the customers anyway!” Bia said, dismissing his argument. He’d got the wrong impression because he was never on the till. Everyone in the building was nice. She went to stand by the till to wait for the next customer, feeling bent out of shape. He’d put doubts in her head and she didn’t like it.

 

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