by Olivia Myers
“I feel that.” He combed his fingertips along her ribcage to lightly massage her breast. “You need to get something off your chest?”
She scoffed, but he was almost sure it was to mask a laugh, and laid her hand over his. He'd learned that that was an order not to move it. “It's just been a long day.”
Stella lifted her head to rest her chin against him and peer up with soft gray eyes. And for a moment, Zain couldn't recall a prettier woman or softer, sweeter, pinker lips begging to be kissed.
He bent to meet her, gently probing her lips with his tongue as his other hand found her opposite breast to lightly knead. She pressed into his touch with a soft moan.
He pulled back only to breathe, and plucked her up easily.
“You can talk to me.” The words left him casually, though the need to know what was bothering her was more than he'd anticipated. Without prompting, Stella's legs wrapped tight around his waist, and he leaned in to envelope her pretty pink nipple between his lips. She wrapped her arms around his head to keep him close and he responded with a firm squeeze of her bottom.
She answered him just when he thought she'd decided to ignore his offer. “Rhett. The robots. Customers.”
She sighed and rolled her hips against him, her signal that she wanted his touch. He obliged by slipping two fingers into her, surprised to find her already wet for him. “Bots are acting weird, short-circuiting. Being returned before their lease is up-ah...” She nuzzled his hair as his fingers pressed deeper, beckoning her tender nerves toward an orgasm. “Nothing danger-oh... Zain...”
He lifted his head and found her lips again for a brief kiss before meeting her eyes. “We'll figure out what's happening with the bots, Stella.” The words sounded more reassuring out loud than they did in his head. Or at least they seemed to for her, since she responded by nodding and rolling her hips closer to his touch. “You want to do it yourself, or let me help?”
She smirked, but he thought he caught a hint of sheepishness. “I need you harder.”
“I’m plenty hard.” He turned to the bed to let her down and shifted to climb on top of her, letting his body echo his claim as he pressed his length against her. Missionary wasn't usually their style. Stella liked him to fuck her hard from behind. He supposed that sex for her was a brief excuse to lose herself and not have to pay for it later. Probably why she kept to bots and didn't try her hand with other men. Too much risk. He understood.
Stella's arms tightened around him as he slipped into her, coaxing a low moan from her lips with the first thrust. It was all the encouragement he needed to continue, her soft moans turning to gasps as he pounded into her. He'd never felt so relieved to have her legs wrap around him, meeting his thrusts with a firm smack of wet flesh. This transaction was distinctly different than their usual business.
Stella's legs tightened around him as she reached her peak, whimpering softly when he responded by rolling his hips to ensure long, deep strokes as she clenched around him. The delicate noise was nothing he'd heard her make before, and he only just managed to slip out before finishing inside of her.
And to surprise him again, she rolled away despite the sticky mess they both were, and stretched out on the opposite side of the bed. Instead of getting up and walking away. He didn't open his mouth to question it, but sank beside her to watch as her back rose and fell with her deep breaths.
“Stella?”
She was already asleep.
***
Zain wasn't aware that Rhett was visiting when he walked into the storage room, until he caught a glimpse of the silky white shirt beyond the door of an open crate. But Rhett didn't seem too aware of him either. Zain hesitated for a moment near the door before moving quietly through the boxes to get a closer look.
Rhett was standing in front of an open bot box with the android's chest wide open. Zain might have mistaken him for doing an inspection if it wasn't for the fact that Stella had told him on multiple occasions that Rhett was an idiot and knew nothing about the bots she sold.
A soft clink sounded as Rhett dropped something into the inner workings, and Zain didn't need another catalyst to confront him.
“Rhett. What was that?”
The other man jumped nearly a foot in the air at the intrusion, but didn't miss a beat with his response. “What was what, Zain?”
“You dropped something in the robot. I saw you.”
“Just something Stella asked me to do.”
“I remember hearing that you're mechanically worthless.” The quip came back before he could check himself. But it was too late.
Rhett put on a big smile as he approached Zain and clasped a hand on his shoulder in that annoyingly familiar way he thought he was entitled to.
“Listen here, you little upstart shit,” he started conversationally. “You are to talk to no one of what you saw. If I even get a hint you did, I can ensure you spend the rest of your days in a space debris prison on any amount of charges. I know you’ve been getting really cozy with Stella, but I got news for you. She is mine.”
Zain could feel his blood go hot with every syllable. “Look man, I don't know what you’re up to, but Stella sure as hell doesn't want anything to do with you.”
Rhett laughed. “Is that what she tells you, you little lap dog? What do you think we do in her office for hours on end? Surely you don't think it is ‘business,’ do you?”
Zain frowned. He knew they’d been a thing in the past but that was over. She'd told him on plenty of occasions that he was nothing but a pompous, annoying prick and she'd be glad to be rid of him. But she never did disclose what they were up to alone.
“That has nothing to do with anything.” Even he could tell he didn't sound convincing.
“Look, you little stow away, you forget I own you until that debt is paid off. So let’s just keep this little incident in between us or I might have to make Stella throw you out.”
“No – wait a minute! What did you drop?”
Rhett had turned to leave, but Zain latched onto his arm with his mechanical grip to hold him in place as he took a step toward the open bot. Rhett yanked, but to no avail, and Zain found it all too easy to ignore his yell of indignation. And he was all too engrossed in what he'd found. It seemed like a tiny sphere no bigger than a marble, but when his hand brushed it, his arm shot up with excruciating pain and consciousness left him before he could register what happened.
*
The yell of agony could be heard throughout the shop and up the stairs in the apartment. Stella sprinted down to the storage cell, only to find Rhett on the floor with Zain in his arms.
“What happened here?” The question came out more demanding than she intended as fear made her stomach turn. What Rhett was doing in her storage room was beyond her, but that could wait until she found out what happened to Zain.
“I don't know, he was just by this box. He screamed and dropped out cold. Was twitching for a few seconds.” Rhett looked up at her, and back down to the cyborg he was holding. “Is he sick or something?”
Stella crouched, checked for breathing, and let out a sigh of relief. Zain was still alive, but what Rhett was describing were the same neural feedback problems Zain had exhibited before. A problem she had fixed herself.
“This box?” She got up to move to the open crate and frowned at the android looking ready for operation. “Did you see what he was doing? Was it a bot malfunction?”
Rhett shrugged. “I thought I saw him drop something inside. Figured he was doing maintenance or something for you, until he seized up and knocked himself out.”
She nodded absently as she rifled through the bot's insides, only partially listening to him since he didn't seem to have anything particularly intelligent to say. Luckily, this model was pretty clean cut, which should make finding the malfunctioning part easy. And it did. Stella's fingers closed around the glossy marble and she lifted the piece to her eyes for inspection. She didn't speak immediately, but was aware of Rhett's eyes on her a
s she studied the nearly microscopic mechanics inside. In that moment, she knew two things: Rhett had been sabotaging her business. And Rhett was lying, because he could not have possibly seen Zain drop this into a robot and been the first to his rescue. That explained his presence in the shop, and his habit of dragging her into her office with the excuse that he wanted to talk business. “This? He was holding this?”
Rhett pushed Zain back to the floor to get closer and nodded. “Yeah, I think that was it. I saw him drop a few before he freaked out.”
Stella blinked at him in disbelief, hesitating only half a second before hauling back with her right arm to land a hard punch to Rhett’s face.
It was punctuated by a satisfying crack and a yell of pain and surprise from the ganglord in front of her. “What the fuck, Stella! Are you crazy?”
“Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?” She held up the marble. “He can't touch this! His body is nearly half robotic, this could damn near kill him!”
Rhett's eyes widened. Obviously, he had not been aware of the brutal flaw in his plan.
“You didn't fucking know, you idiot!” She shook her head. “You have been doing this! You've been sabotaging my business and almost killed one of my men – for what?”
He opened his mouth and closed it, apparently unable to summon words. “I—I didn't sabotage! He's bad for you! He's dangerous, he's going to drag you down and you know it's supposed to be you and me, Stell—”
“Holy hell – you're lucky I don't beat the shit out of you right here! Do you know that?” She grabbed the nearest object, a dismembered leg from a bot she'd been working on the previous day, as if she was still thinking about it. Rhett took a step back and lifted his arms in defense.
“Stella, you're overreacting. You don't know what's been going on—”
“No, I think it's pretty clear.” She lifted the leg and let the weight of it fall back into her hand with a firm thud, and then lifted it again with both hands to connect with Rhett's head. His eyes widened at the impact, but he dropped back unconscious a moment later.
Stella reached for her phone, keeping her eyes on Rhett as she dialed. “... Yes, I need an officer to my shop. Correct, Omega Block, Cell 540. Yes, I can give a statement.”
***
The room was dark when Zain opened his eyes, except for the soft lamplight at the bedside. It took him several moments to recall that he was in his bedroom – Stella's guest room. And his memory was only stirred by the presence of the pixie of a woman at his bedside with a book in her lap. On advanced mechanics, naturally.
He shifted to sit up and groaned at the throbbing in his head – which immediately reminded him what brought him there. His gasp for new air was what woke her.
Stella blinked and let the book fall to the floor as she stood. “It's about time, I thought you'd sleep forever.”
He shook his head, only to bring on another throbbing pang. “Rhett! Rhett's been sabotaging the robots! Stella—”
She shook her head, lifting a hand to cover his mouth. “Don't worry about it. I know.” She crawled in to sit beside him, crossing her legs and resting her elbows on her knees to get a good look at him. “I'm more worried about you right now. You clocked yourself pretty good.”
He blinked in surprise, but was feeling far from unwelcoming. “I'm fine. Now I am, anyway. Thank you.”
“Mm-hm. Doctor says you should take it easy for a while. I did some light maintenance on your arm and leg. We'll get you some painkillers and get to the heavy work later.” She reached out to feather her fingers through his hair and he tilted his head into the uncharacteristically gentle touch. “You scared me. He could have killed you.”
He could feel his cheeks warm and was suddenly glad the room was dark. That was likely the most affectionate thing she'd ever said to him. The warmth of his blush was nothing compared to the delight enveloping his heart at the moment. Still, he managed to say with his typical flippancy, “I didn't know you cared.”
“You grew on me,” she quipped back.
He couldn't help a smile at that as he shook his head and sank deeper into the pillows. “You grew on me too.” He paused. “What's happening to him?”
She shrugged. “I don't know. Don't care. Whatever the police think he deserves, I suppose. I'm sure he'll get away with plenty, but not fucking over my operation. And he's nothing for you to worry about anymore.”
“For me? He's not going to come loan-sharking?”
“Not if he has any sense of self-preservation.” She rolled her eyes. “You don't owe him anything.”
“Oh. Then...thanks.” He fidgeted, unsure if he could trust the relief welling inside of him. “Do I still have a job?”
Her lips quirked upward. “Yeah. If you want it. And you can stay. If you need to figure out your life.” He looked down at her hand when she reached to squeeze his mechanical knee. “I'd like it, actually.”
Zain felt a burst of happiness at the softening of her expression. “I'd like it too,” he said. “I guess I won't be going anywhere for a while.”
THE END
The Big Bang Alien Love Affair
Larissa stared intently down at the Wytrium's vast open space, at the waitservers going up and down through the air, darting madly with their serving boxes to and from the glittering dance balconies, gambling kiosks and cafes lining the round, sloping walls of her nightclub. The airskayts they wore allowed them to float and dance through the air at all different levels of the towering club. All around, people mingled. Danced. Drank. Laughed. Kissed.
As she watched them, she said to herself, “I’m so tired.”
"What you are, Lady Larissa," a gruff voice said, "is bored."
Larissa looked up, startled, from her prone position on the floor, where her nose had been pressed to the transparent filmglass. She resisted the urge to scramble up like a naughty kid caught swiping candy. Control yourself, Larissa. Nobody can read your mind. They don't have a clue you're scoping out the club for decent men. Even you haven't quite admitted to yourself what you're doing.
"Damn. I didn't see you. Floyd, is that you? What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Employees aren't allowed in the topcourt ballroom. It's undergoing renovation, as you can see."
Negligently, she unstuck her breasts from the floor where they'd been smooshed, plucked her elegant necklace so it lay smoothly on her chest once again, and rose to her feet.
The stocky human, dressed in his silver uniform, snorted, his weathered face wrinkling as his gaze fixed to her cleavage, which rose above the low neckline of her bodysuit. "Airskayt's broke. Twisted my knee when I landed. Went to tell management. Said they'd seen you and your tracker was on. Why you up here?"
She ignored that. "Well, that was nice of them to share my whereabouts with anyone who asked. Guess I'll be having a word with security."
"I ain't anyone—I'm your oldest employee. And your friend, too, right? Who else you got around here to talk to?"
"Just the entire galaxy." She waved her arms. "Look around sometimes, Floyd. You work in the most popular nightclub on Jax-9. I can talk to anyone I like, anytime." If I want to fend off a hundred bizarre sexual proposals from a bunch of strangers, that is. Which I don't. Instead, I want...I want...what?
"Those aliens? They're no company. I'm sick of seein' 'em all the time. They're all rude, slimy—"
"That's enough, Floyd." She tried to ignore the way his gaze still seemed fixed on her chest, particularly the way her neckline rose a mere micron above the aureolas of her nipples. Dirty old man. She felt a bit sorry for him. "How are you? Everything been going smoothly here? Not too many fights breaking out in the gambling rooms? Your health okay?"
"Guess so." He refused to let the subject stay changed. "Don't you tell me you don't care, Lady Larissa. You come from the same kinda background I do. We're both of pure blood, old families, first colonists. Your people's beautiful and rich, mine ain't, but that don't matter. Blood's what matters. Don't it ever get to you? Hardly any hu
mans 'round here no more since the gates fell."
"No, it doesn't matter. I like that my club is the one place on Jax-9 that anyone in the galaxy can come and feel like they won't be harassed. The persecution these people experienced before the reform was bad, Floyd. Real bad."
He persisted. "I never see you with anyone. You're bored and lonely. How long's it been since you went out with a good-lookin' fancy fellow? Look at you, all hard-tittied." He waved at her breasts, and Larissa gasped and actually blushed at his audacity. At thirty-six, she hadn't even known she could blush anymore.
Floyd went on, scowling. "I'd court you myself if you weren't half my age. And who you gonna go with——one of them? You're right to steer clear of this place most times. You go home. Stay away from this club. I know your vippy-vaulty family paid for this place 'cause you wanted it for some reason, I don’t know what. But it's no place for a nice young girl. There's dirty goings on here. You need to find yourself a decent man. Go where it's safe. Use a dating service. That's how I found Julloo, may her spirit ne'er expire."
She crossed her arms over her chest, looked at him sternly, considered firing him on the spot—then burst into laughter. "You're an annoying old man sometimes, Floyd. I don't know why I keep you on. Wait, yes, I do—you serve a mean Freezing Split. Come on, enough about my absentee love life. Let's get a patcher to look at your knee."
As they walked to the perimeter, she glanced down regretfully through the floor at the undeniably wild crowd.
Some of them were human, of course. A few of the waitservers and patrons were as human as she was. Most of them, though, she had to admit, would never have been allowed in her world's airspace a mere decade ago. They'd been universally thought of as freaks on this world—hundreds of different alien races, some humanoid, but most not, and all of them, in their own way, blatantly other.
Larissa sometimes thought she was the only one in the world who was glad the activists had rallied, the gates had fallen, and the aliens had flooded the planet in droves. She'd never shared with anyone that that was the reason she'd opened the nightclub. She'd thought owning a galactic-quality nightclub would guarantee a stimulating circle around her and keep her from the malaise of boredom.