Alien Miner's Bride: A New Adult Science Fiction Romance (Moon Company Brides Book 1)

by Tia LaBeau

  “No way. If I let you do that, you will boss me around. Listen, if you plan on continuing to eat Earth food, we’ll need the extra funds for that. Only kidding. Keep your funds for you.”

  “Males always want to treat the woman’s money like extra,” I say.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Xerxes says.

  “So is this how it’s going to go. When it’s convenient, you’re going to pretend like you don’t understand what I’m saying because I’m a human woman.”

  Xerxes shrugs. “When it suits me, yes, and when it’s true. And right now, it’s true. I have no idea what you’re talking about right now.”

  “So when it suits you, you’re going to pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  “Yes,” he says.

  “You’re not supposed to admit that, silly,” I say.

  “You don’t like liars, so I’m being honest with you.”

  “You are a piece of work, Xerxes. You know, forget what I said about honesty. Sometimes you have to tell a pretty lie instead of the ugly truth. So like, if I say, how do I look, and you say, I look a hot mess…that would be being too honest. You know what I’m saying?”

  “Oh, Cleo Chou, no. I do not know what you are saying. I cannot stand you being like this anymore, with these sounds coming out of your mouth that are not moans. If you must speak, all I want to hear is ooh and ahh, and yes! Give me more. You’re so large my body is choking on it.”

  I guffaw. “You can’t be serious,” I say.

  “Oh, believe me, I’m very serious. I’ve played your way. Now it’s time for you to play my way. It’s what they call being polite, yes?”

  Xerxes picks me up. I barely try to fight him off. He’s got me over his shoulder again. “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “Back to your bed. One last time.”

  “To do what, get some sleep before we go away?”

  “No. No sleep. We Sewvians do not need much sleep.”

  I growl at him and relax, letting my body hang over him.

  He throws me down on the bed. “Turn over,” he says. “On your hands and knees, please, Cleo Nic.”

  “Is it Cleo Nic or Cleo Chou?” I ask.

  “Both. You will always be both.”

  I smile.

  “That sounds good to me,” I say.

  He enters me. I’m so tight. I close my eyes, imagining his veiny, grand translucentness going in and out of me, which it is, but I want to see it in my mind's eye, in addition to feeling it. I grab onto my sheets, arch my back so that I can throw it back at him. My ass slaps against his thighs every time I spring back.

  He begins to move in a circular motion, followed by a slam. Circle, slam, circle, slam, circle, slam.

  I grit my teeth. He pulls my hair hard enough to like, but not hard enough to hurt. I’m bouncing back on him rhythmically now. My ass is slapping against his quads. He’s so deep inside me now, and he’s so hard!

  And now, I’m not bending over so much anymore, more like sitting back. He has hand wrapped around my neck. He’s breathing in my ear. Occasional a groan slips out.

  “I,” SLAM “want,” SLAM “this,” SLAM “to last forever,” SLAM. That’s me.

  “Me too,” SLAM “Forever,” SLAM. That’s him.

  I feel him growing bigger. I know what that means.

  “Don’t come in me,” I say.

  “Are you sure,” he says. “Remember the lermi?”

  I melt, collapse on the bed, and roll ever. I spread my legs. “Give me some of that lermi,” I say.

  I’ll think about the consequences later. Yes, this is totally irresponsible, but Xerxes is my husband, so what’s the worst thing that could happen? I get pregnant? I think I can handle motherhood, at least that’s what I tell myself, and really, isn’t that the way it goes? Okay, maybe I’m alone on this one, I don’t know. I should have given Xerxes shit the last time he came in me, but it felt so good, it just seemed so right at the time.

  Xerxes is sort of crouching there in front of me now. His wang is glistening from my juices. It seems like I can see the purple-bluish fluid moving through him. That’s how it comes out, after all, purple-blue, like squirt candy. I sit, watching, admiring his body.

  He enters me again. I clench my muscles around him.

  “No to lermi? Or yes to lermi?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say. “No, yes, no.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes,” I agree and nod my head.

  He thrusts one more time, and then shudders. I relax. I want to feel the warm, slick purple-blue goo, yes, I do. The lermi tickles my insides— all that it can reach. It travels up and up and up, until there nothing but whiteness in my mind. You know, the way it should be during meditation and all that, white like the Moon Company office and shit. Boy, am I glad I entered there.

  Location: Asteroid Belt, Population: 123,348

  Cleo Nic moves about the mine as if she was born to be a miner. I know she was not. She’s wearing her space suit, but not the pink one I bought her because that one doesn’t fit anymore.

  “How do you like my round belly?” she asks as she floats toward me in her suit. She’s silly the way she does it like she’s swimming in the ocean.

  “I like it just fine,” I say, patting her stomach when we reach each other.

  “What are you going to do after I have this baby, hmm? You know I’m going to have to help Drek out with taking down the Governor. It’s my calling.”

  “We can get a nanny bot,” I say.

  “A nanny bot, hmm. That sounds like a good idea,” Cleo says.

  “Yes,” I say. “I have it all planned out. I will place cameras all around our living quarters and then watch the feeds from my watch.”

  “That sounds pretty old school. I’m sure the nanny bot can handle her job,” Cleo says. She pauses, stroking her belly. “Oh, who am I kidding? How about you use bots for the mining, and take care of the baby yourself. I wouldn’t want your parents to get the wrong idea.”

  “That sounds like a plan. The baby and I can play, lay around, eat flippiants all day.”

  “Oh no, you don’t, there won’t be any flippiant eating for my baby.”

  “One day you’ll come around. I promise,” I say.

  “Uh, huh,” Cleo says. “Let’s go in for a while. I’m feeling a bit sleepy.”

  “Sleepy is better than shooting out all that projectorant from your mouth,” I say.

  “It’s called vomit,” Cleo says. “And you gotta lot of nerve talking about something coming out of someone’s mouth.”

  “At least my lermi is nice. That, what you do when you’re not feeling well, uh, not so much.”

  She looks at me crazy, but still I take her hand and lead her into our new living quarters. Everything is state of the art here on Gargantua, including my house. I look across to the other side of the asteroid at the other living station—the one I built for my parents.

  “Shouldn’t we go over to your parent’s for dinner tonight?” Cleo asks when we get inside. “They asked us over.”

  I help her take off her helmet. Her hair is plastered to her face. It’s shiny with sweat. She’s glowing more than ever. I never thought she could glow any more than she did before she got pregnant.

  “I don’t see why you won’t let my parents help with the baby,” I say.

  “They’ve raised you and your brother. That’s enough. I never said they couldn’t spend time with the baby, and babysit every now and again so that we can have a date night.”

  “I still do not understand the virtues of a date,” I say. “Isn’t it just spending time together.”

  “Quality time,” she says.

  “Isn’t all time quality. And how do you quantify it?”

  She shakes her head. “Let’s have a snack,” she says.

  I help her take off the rest of her suit and get completely out of mine before the two of us go into the kitchen.

  There are no knick-knac
ks in our kitchen, a fact which was pointed out very poignantly by Freda, to which Cleo replied that she didn’t that need that junk.

  I have researched knick knacks, and I do not see what difference it makes. But those two argued it over the comms for a very long time.

  I fiddle around the kitchen, searching for things to eat. I happen upon my favorite snack. I think to myself that Cleo should try the flippiants. Flippiants are very nutritious for babies.

  I get the jar. I pull a flippiant out, a smaller one, and put it on a plate. Cleo insists that I eat my food on pottery now. She says that it is more convenient to do so and less old school.

  She winces when she sees me with the flippiant jar. I chop the flippiants up into tiny little pieces.

  “Would you like crackers with that, Doc?” she asks me.

  “No crackers for me,” I say. I wait until she approaches the table. I grab her by the wrist gently.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Sit, here, on my lap,” I tell her. “Open your mouth.”

  “Mmm-mmm,” she says, shaking her head vigorously.

  “Come on, say ah,” I say.

  She tightens her lips.

  I hang my head. “You will not try it? What if you have changed your mind about them, and you don’t even know it. Here, sniff it.”

  “Eww no, unless you want me to vomit up the baby, get that stuff out of my face.”

  “I’ll make a deal with you,” I say. “You try the flippiant, and if you don’t like it, I will sell this whole asteroid, and we will move to Io permanently like you want. Live in a metropolis.”

  “I don’t want to go to Io anymore. I’m over it. That was soooo long ago, duh!”

  “Hmm, let me think. What could you want?”

  “Foot massages every day for a month and Earth food every day for a week.”

  “Earth food is very expensive, and we said we were going to cut back on it so that we will have credits to leave for our little one.”

  She shrugs. “Okay, fine then, no.” She crosses her arms. “I won’t eat it.”

  “But it’s good for the baby,” I say.

  She pats her stomach. “That may be so, and I love this baby, I mean I really really do, but a mother has her limits, you know, ones she’s got to put in place for balance. A happy, non-disgusted mother makes for a happy, healthy baby.”

  “You can choose to be happy under any circumstance, Cleo,” I say.

  She rolls her eyes and exhales loudly. “Okay, fine. If I try the flippant one more time, do you promise not to shove them in my face ever again?”

  “I promise,” I say.

  She opens her mouth. I place the flippiant inside. I push up her chin because she’s got the flippiant sitting there, resting on her tongue. I’ve only given her the middle of the flippiant. The head and tail are the best, but she spat the head out before.

  She keeps it in her mouth this time, though. I watch. She chews.

  “Hmm,” she says. “That tastes nice. I wonder what’s different?”

  “Nothing,” I say. “They’re fresher. That’s all,” I say.

  She reaches for the plate. I pull it back. “You don’t want more.”

  “Yes I do,” she says snatching the plate away from me.

  She eats all of the flippiant on her plate. “I’m going to go lie down and take a bit of a nap,” she says.

  I devour the rest of the jar of flippiants. Then I follow behind her. When I reach the bedroom, she’s laying there on her back. I can’t see her face from where I’m standing. All I see is her beautiful round belly.

  I tiptoe towards the bed. I lie down next to Cleo and rub her tummy.

  She rolls over and faces me. I touch the tip of her nose. She smiles.

  “Freda is going through the process now, at Moon Company Brides,” she says.

  “I know. How long has it been?”

  “A year,” she says.

  I laugh. “Freda's being picky.”

  “I don’t blame her. Not everyone can be as lucky as me.”

  “Maybe we can help her choose,” I say.

  Maybe, Cleo says. She rises, reaches over and grabs her tablet. She contacts her sister. Freda’s happy face appears on the screen right away.

  “Freda, what up?” Cleo asks.

  “Mister, it’s you,” Freda says. She looks the same, young, fresh. She’s a pretty girl and sweet. Cleo did a good job picking up where her parents left off.

  “How’s thing’s going at Moon Company Moon?” Cleo asks.

  Freda frowns. “Not so good. I have a lot of offers, but I haven’t accepted any of them. I can’t seem to find the right guy.”

  “Well, what are you looking for Freda?” I ask.

  Freda laughs. “What are you a love doctor now, Xerxes?” she asks me.

  “No,” I say with a smirk. “I still do not understand the word. I can help you find someone that you will like immensely.”

  “But how will I know. Looks aren’t everything. There’s no dating in this company so I can’t try things out first.”

  “This is the safest thing for you, Freda. The Governor is not to be played with. Who knows if he’s coming after you. You’re mostly there so that Celeste can look after you anyway. You can be happy. You’ll see, but take my advice, marry far.”

  Freda frowns.

  “Let us narrow it down. You have all sorts of specimen to choose from,” I say.

  Freda twists up her mouth. “Well, I’m attracted to the red dudes, from Havenu, yeah. Something about their red skin gets me hot.” Freda shimmies.

  “Ewww, Freda. TMI,” Cleo says, covering her eyes. “And you shake your titties at my husband again, and I’m going to reach through this comm screen and slap the taste out of your mouth.”

  “You will not, Cleo, stop. I see your pregnancy hormones haven’t calmed you down any.”

  “That may be so,” I say agreeing. “So back to Haveners, Freda, I have met some in my life. They have interesting customs. They are also rough around the edges. A lot of them come from pirating clans. If you were to agree to marry one of them, you might want to make sure that they’re not of the pirate variety.”

  “Oh, argh, shiver me timbers,” Freda coos.

  “Hah, silly! Not an old school Earther pirate. A space pirate. Space pirates are a whole other breed,” Cleo says.

  “How do you know that?” I ask Cleo.

  Cleo averts her eyes. “Err, um. I dated one, okay. Not anyone from Havenu, but a pirate no less. Human, though.”

  “Can we get back to me?” Freda yells into the screen.

  “So fine, look for a Havener. Tell Celeste that is all you want.”

  “Celeste tells me I don’t know what I want,” Freda says.

  Cleo leans forward. “You tell that Celeste that it’s your life and you will do the dick picking, okay. She and I have already had this out. At least I thought we did,” Cleo says.

  “Good luck,” Freda I say. “Be sure to comm us when you figure it out.”

  “I will, Xerxes,” Freda says my name with strong emphasis.

  “Whatever,” Cleo says. “I’m getting off the bitchaphone. Pregnant lady tired now.”

  We click off with Freda. Cleo lies back down.

  “She’ll find someone.”

  “I just wish she could get out there, live her life like your brother does,” Cleo says.

  “Yes, Yumi is free to live his life as he pleases.”

  “What about you?” Cleo asks me. “Are you living your life as you please.”

  “Yes, I am thank you very much,” I say.

  “Me too,” she says. “If Freda brings home a pirate, I’m going to bitch slap her.

  “That’s being discriminatory,” I say.

  She laughs. “I know, I’m only kidding. I hope she finds someone she loves like I have. If that’s a crazy ass Havener pirate, then so be it.”

  “Well, we got lucky.”

  “Was it luck?” Cleo asks.

 
I shrug. I have no idea how these sort of things happen, and let me clarify that the tingly feeling I feel in my chest I like to refer to as extreme liking, not love. Cleo is pushy. She will have to earn the full word which encompasses all that I feel in one noun. I grin. I love our power struggles.

  I look around at our living quarters, and I am proud that I have been able to do this with her. My only problem now is that I am worried about her going after the Governor.

  Mr. Drek still asks for the both of us, but with Cleo having a baby, I think that at least one of us ought to be home.

  Cleo refuses to allow me to be the one that works with Mr. Drek. I don’t think this is because she wants to hog all the fun and dangerous work to herself. I think rather that she wants to go forward, out into the dangerous unknown for me.

  If someone is to get hurt from going after the Governor, she wants it to be her. I am not sure I can acquiesce. But she says that if I don’t, it’s like I’m saying that she can’t handle herself. I know that she can handle herself. She is the bravest person I know.

  I fall asleep thinking on all of this, but wake up when I feel her tapping me on the shoulder. “It’s time,” she says.

  “Time for what?” I ask sleepily. I don’t want it to be time. I want to see my baby, but I’m not ready to be closer to losing my wife to her work. This Governor is in the way, I think.

  “The baby! the baby!” Cleo screams at me. I snap out of grogginess. I pop up, reach over, and feel the wetness on the bed when I touch it. Her water bag has broken.

  “The baby, yes, it’s coming. Let me get my mother,” I say.

  “Why?” she asks.

  I put my hand down and touch her where the baby will emerge. “You will not make it to the medicenter in time from here. I do not want you to give birth to our baby on the mobil.”

  “Why not?” Cleo asks. “It’s where we made it.”

  She’s in terrible pain. I can tell just by looking at her. I wish I could take away the pain from her.

  “Should I comm Freda? Tell her the baby is coming? She said she wanted to see it all.”

  “Yes,” Cleo says. “Oh my, it’s coming. It wasn’t supposed to come this fast.”

  “Nothing ever happens as it is supposed to,” I say.