by Colt, Shyla
As one of his prized pupils, Zasha had filled him with pride. She was a fast learner, eager to graduate and enforce the law. It was the other sentiments she’d garnered that caused him to backpedal away from the friendship they’d formed. The bland black uniforms were a work of art when they folded over her ample chest, full hips, and well-rounded ass. It made him feel like a pervert; an older teacher who lusted after his young student.
“That was years ago,” he said.
It was not on his agenda to admit he’d yearned for the statuesque brunette ever since.
“Perhaps, but I never saw a problem with mixing a little business with pleasure,” Bastian said.
Phelan clenched his teeth and counted to ten in his head. His pace measured and unhurried, he beat back the instinct to punch his brother for the backhanded insult. Zasha wasn’t some woman he wished to use for a night of pleasure. She’d become an infection in his blood that ravaged him from the inside out. Every moment spent with her etched in his brain. The faded memories had become insufficient to keep his hunger for her at bay with the passage of time.
“Lay off him, Bast. He has enough to worry about with the ball coming up,” Kade said. “You two are always too serious.”
“And the Secretary of War isn’t?” Phelan asked. His voice distorted by the laugher that spilled forth.
“Only when it’s necessary. When you go into battle as much as I have you learn the importance of enjoying every moment you can,” Bastian said. The statement a reminder of the wisdom that often got lost in his playboy façade.
“I’ll up the play time, Bast,” Phelan said.
He was touched by Bast’s concern. Often the most closed off, Bastian had left home at a young age to train. The separation placed a barrier between them they still worked to tear down. It was hard to feel close to someone you spent the majority of your life parted from.
“Good. I still think you should start with Zasha at the ball, but I know when to leave well enough alone,” said Bastian.
Satisfied that he’d spoken his peace, he swung his long legs up onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. His fingers laced behind the back of his head.
“Are you sure we’re related?” Kade asked.
The playful banter made Phelan’s lips curve into a smile. It was nice to know some things didn’t change, no matter what galaxy he was in.
“You could do with some loosening up yourself, brainiac,” Bastian said.
“I’m plenty loose.” Kale's face distorted with indignation.
“Oh yeah, you’re a regular wild man,” Phelan said dryly, as Kade rose to his feet.
“Since you guys are in a pick on Kale mood I’ll see myself out.”
Kale’s gangly body was stiff as he moved quickly out the door.
“I meant what I said earlier about you and Zasha,” Bastian said. His face was drawn and serious as he resurrected the topic once Kale disappeared around the corner.
“I know, Bast, but now isn’t the time,” Phelan said.
If he didn’t hold on tight to the rules he’d set for himself, he would be lost to the siren call Zasha sung. That he invited her at all was a lapse in judgment he hoped did not change life as he knew it.
“Then when is?” he asked. “You are our King, Phelan; don’t you think it’s time we gained a Queen?”
Bastian’s words filled Phelan with a panic that consumed. Did he know how much he craved Zasha? He often longed to feel the length of her body pressed against him. Even now he had to force himself to remain in his office when all he wanted was to track her down and lose himself in the bliss offered. For the Shar, the Wanting was a pleasure unparalleled by anything else. He’d love her until no other man would ever do and fill her with his seed. It was sick and twisted, but he saw her as his. The savage lust and possessiveness of his ancestors was at war with the modern man he needed to be.
“How did we go from a scratching an itch to marriage?”
“I’ve seen you with Zasha, Phelan. She triggers the Wanting doesn’t she?” he asked.
The statement brought attention to the closet of secrets he’d keep shut tight and bared his skeleton for all to see. Phelan set down the letter he had yet to send, took a shaky breath, and nodded. This was why he avoided Zasha as much as possible. The Wanting was a biological response every Shar male experienced when he discovered his mate. The animalistic sex it caused would be disturbing to most humans for a number of reasons; his eyes would bleed to black, his ejaculate was tinged blue, and the clincher. His need to fill her with as much sperm as possible in hopes of conception.
Does anyone else know?” Phelan asked.
His voice a husky rasp as it rattled out of his throat.
“No,” Bastian said. “But we both know you can only hold off for so long.”
“Every minute I manage to stop myself from claiming my mate allows her to continue her life as she sees fit. We don’t know the logistics of a Shar mating with a human; we only know it’s possible.”
When the scientists on Tagget announced their sun was failing, they held out hopes of repairing the sun before being forced to admit the inevitable. They would have to find a new place to live.
They looked at many locations before deciding on Earth. Not only were its people the friendliest, their genetic make-up was the most compatible which meant, in time, they could interbred.
“She’s strong!”
“You realize that being bonded to me will ruin her life as she knows it right? You see how dedicated she is to her job. What will losing that do to her? How can we be happy for the rest of our lives with that over my head?” Phelan asked.
His fingers curved like claws as they raked through his hair. He had gone over this so many times.
“You should at least tell her before the time comes.”
“I’m done talking about this,” Phelan said. A dismissive wave of his hand the signal he was done with the topic.
Chapter Three
Are you sure about this? Zasha thought.
Her kohl-lined almond-shaped eyes focused on the full length mirror that reflected a woman she barely recognized. The hazel hue turned a deep emerald green against the bronze eye shadow and fringed with long lashes exaggerated by mascara. The maroon-colored mini dress grazed the top of her thighs, and the V-neckline was a half-inch shy of being indecent. If it wasn’t for the knee high black boots, she’d feel naked. The thick black hair she normally kept braided and pinned in to a bun flowed to her mid-back. Styled in a partial up-do with a high ponytail.
“Don’t over think it, Z. The costume is witty as hell. Going as a crew member from Star Trek to an alien ball is the bomb!” Taye said.
Taye fluffed the red curls of her wig and inspected the green hue her skin had acquired via special effects make-up.
“Says the woman bold enough to attend the alien hosted event as a green-skinned extraterrestrial from a planet that caters to the sex trade,” Zasha said.
“Exactly! I’ll scandalize them so bad, no one will notice how stacked Zasha Johnson is.”
Taye’s hand waved over the silver bikini top and mini-skirt in an exaggerative sweep.
“The silver stilettos are the icing on the cake, and that’s not funny,” Zasha said.
“On the real, Z, it wouldn’t hurt you to loosen up and find some masked man to clear out those pipes.”
“You know that’s not me.”
“There’s a first time for everything, and a very sexy alien did invite you personally.”
“Stop right there,” Zasha said.
A vivid vision of Phelan’s sculpted body covered with sweat as he pounded into her was all too easy to conjure. The lust she harbored for him had always made her feel like a dirty voyeur.
In her mind, a casual handshake became a lover’s caress. His smooth baritone, an aphrodisiac, and his lips, a tool to make her think sinful thoughts. She watched him from beneath her eye lashes at every opportunity, her body achy and starved for his attention. By t
he end of her schooling, she’d been convinced Professor D’Shar could smell the need that permanently saturated her panties whenever she was in his presence. His spine grew stiff. His nostrils flared and the warmth in his tone grew cool anytime she was near him. It was the only excuse she could come up with for his abrupt pull away from their friendship.
“It’s okay to have a crush, you know. It’s not like he’s your superior any longer.” Taye said.
Zasha sighed. What she had was more than a crush; it was an obsession. One that woke her in the dead of night from dreams so molten the only escape from arousal was to take matters into her own hands.
“I don’t have a crush,” she whispered.
“Right,” Taye said.
“Let me grab out bags so we can get out of here,” Zasha said. “We don’t want to be too late.”
The click of her heels on her bedroom floor of were a much needed reinforcement to her courage. A woman who wore shoes like these was no weak flower. She was a temptress who knew her feminine power and wielded it as she saw fit. In mid-journey she made a conscious decision. Tonight she would be anyone she wanted to be.
Happy Halloween, Zasha Johnson.
****
Less than one hundred feet away, Phelan stood dressed in a pair of black slacks, shiny black boots, and the sky-blue shirt of a Star Trek Science officer. A black wig with blunt bangs across his forehead and pointed special effects ears that came to curved points similar to an elf’s completed the look.
“This is classic,” Taye said. “You two would pick romantically linked characters.” It was obvious Taye was amused by the situation they had just walked up on.
“It’s a sign from the universe,” Taye said.
Her tiny fingers locked on to Zasha’s elbow like the Jaws of Life as she made a beeline to their host.
“Taye, what are you doing?” Zasha asked.
She was not ready to begin her role reversal so soon. Her inner vixen was slow to start. Okay, more like had never been used, but still. She needed more time to prepare.
“It’d be impolite not to say hi,” she said.
All too soon they were in front of the man in question. Phelan’s amber eyes darkened to black as his eyes glanced from the top of her head to her high-heeled feet. She felt her body heat, and her panties drench in response.
Why she’d bothered to don a pair at all was beyond her.
“Zasha, I’m glad you could make it,” he said.
He was so virile with a lean muscled frame that appeared ready for action at a moment’s notice. His eloquent manner of speech coupled with the silent power that thrummed beneath the surface provided more swagger than one man should be allowed to have. The sparks of emotion she’d seen in his eyes made her want to unleash the inner passion he hid behind a cordial and cool facade.
“Thank you for inviting me, Phelan.”
A not so delicate nudge in to her side, with a sharp elbow from Taye, broke the spell she’d fallen under.
“I am so sorry. Where are my manners? Hello, Bastian,” she said. “This is my best friend Taye. Taye, this is Phelan, and his brother Bastion.”
The lust filled looks Bastian and Taye exchanged told her from past experience she’d be alone tonight. Taye was picky about who she slept with, but when the attraction hit she didn’t hesitate to follow through.
But that was okay. For once she, too, had plans.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Taye,” Bastian said. His chocolate eyes filled with admiration.
“And may I say, green is definitely your color.”
“I guess great minds think alike,” Phelan said in reference to the fact they’d both gone with Star Trek personalities. The conversation that took place between Taye and Bastian already reverted to background noise. Phelan’s hand gesture from his outfit to her own was so out of character it made her laugh.
“I had hoped it would be seen as humorous and not offensive,” Zasha said.
“I am unsure if humor is the first thought it evokes,” he said.
Her jaw dropped for a brief moment before she collected herself.
His voice had been even but his eyes spoke volumes. The combination blew her mind.
It was clear to Zasha that Phelan D’Shar yearned for her as much as she did him. The illogical thoughts she produced in response involved a dark corner, and a husky request that he take her. She had never considered herself to be a person who’d desire being dominated. But Phelan made her want to lay herself bare and let him do whatever he deemed necessary.
“Well we should be making our rounds now,” she said. Her head turned to the left, and she discovered Bastian and Taye had disappeared.
“It appears you may have lost your companion for the night.”
“Experience assures me I have,” she said.
His dark chuckle sent a shot of electricity straight to her womb. The surge of power made her breast heavy and the walls of her pussy tighten. She had to get out of her and regroup.
“I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
She prepared to turn around and walk away when his hand came to rest on her wrist. What should have been an innocent gesture shattered her composure. The years of denial collapsed as she met his dark gaze and allowed her tongue to sneak out and lick her glossed lips. She was done hiding her attraction to this man. The seductress she’d buried deep had decided to come out and play. The fingers that curved around her wrist gave a tight squeeze before they released her, and he took a step back. His hands placed behind his back as if it was a struggle to keep them from her body.
Anyone else would see a host dedicated to his character. But she saw victory. It was rare to see Phelan ruffled and tonight she’d glimpsed the alien behind the mask. His silent struggle to remain composed woke a side of her she had never known existed. An untrained eye would have missed the variation of his voice and the change in his eye color. Her lips puckered into a pout as she gave him the heated once over his fine form deserved. The light blue shirt molded to his well-formed chest, and the black pants outlined the bulge he sported. The sense of power she held over him made her greedy, and she couldn’t resist a step forward into his personal space.
“I like the pointed ears on you,” she whispered. Aroused by the flair of his nostrils, her voice grew deep and lowered as if she shared a secret. “I always did have a thing for Spock.”
“Why was that, Zasha?” he asked.
The sound of her name on his lips, a silken caress.
“He was my type.”
“What type is that?” he asked. His hands still clasped behind his back as he leaned forward, providing her with his undivided attention.
“Tall, dark, handsome, and alien,” she said.
“Phelan, we hate to disruption your conversation, but we wanted to come over and pay our respects.” The voice turned their attention to the group of guests lined up behind them.
The interruption caused Phelan’s eyes to flash black before they returned to their original amber.
“I think I’ll go find something to drink. Suddenly, I’m parched,” she said.
A thrill of excitement coursed through her as she hurried off into the crowd. Seconds before her departure Phelan had delivered a brief nod and a hint of a smile. He understood her game, and in his own way, accepted. It wouldn’t be long before he found her, and the fun began. Zasha made her way to the punch bowl and ladled a glass, sipping the sweet juice to combat the rise of heat in her body.
****
His grip on his control was tenuous at best. His heart pounded in his chest, and his pulse skyrocketed. He’d expended a good amount of energy to redirect the blood that had pooled to his penis the moment Zasha had stepped in front of him. The wicked words which rolled from her tongue had almost ended with her ample curves beneath him on the marble floor.
Her rich hazel eyes burned a brilliant jade. Her cheeks glowed with a light flush that came on as they flirted. It was a heady combination, innocence mixed with
a dash of a naughty temptress. He’d seen a side of Zasha Johnson he never would have believed existed. But as they say, still waters run deep.
With her oval face and high cheekbones, Zasha Johnson was a beauty. But his attraction was about so much more than that. If she thought to escape him tonight, she was sorely mistaken.
The time to hold back passed. The Wanting demanded he take her now.
“Are you okay, Phe?” Marsden asked. His eyes full of concern as he strolled over with his date on his arm. Mars was the shortest of them, all at 5’9” with wheat-colored hair and ice blue eyes identical to their mother’s. Sent to Earth to collect recon from a young age, he was the most adapted to their new homeland.
“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“Honey, why don’t you go to the punch bowl? I’ll meet you there,” Mars said to his date.
The petite blonde gave a quick nod before she walked away. Her tiny frame swallowed in the sea of people.
“Bro, your eyes are almost black and your skin is the color of a Smurf’s.”
“A what?”
“A bright blue cartoon, never mind, it’s obvious something is up.”