The Alien General's Baby: Sci-fi Alien Romance (Men of Omaron)

Home > Other > The Alien General's Baby: Sci-fi Alien Romance (Men of Omaron) > Page 7
The Alien General's Baby: Sci-fi Alien Romance (Men of Omaron) Page 7

by Shea Malloy


  Jonnar looked behind him, making sure the ship stayed upright. The damage was bad enough. For it to topple over or sink into a hole would be worse.

  Then the earthquake crescendoed into a violent, earsplitting sound, and Jillian screamed, the horror in her voice just as alarming as the abrupt loss of her grip on his arm. Jonnar spun around, his heart leaping into his throat at the sight of her sliding into a collapsed section of soil.

  He stopped her fall with his telekinesis, and her body jerked against the sudden force. Another few seconds and she would have been lost in the newly formed sinkhole below. He began to pull her up, hoping she was not hurt when the collapse spread and he lost his footing.

  Down he went, grunting as he fought to stop his fall while levitating Jillian to safety. Finally his fingers found purchase amid the loosened soil just as the earthquake quietened.

  He breathed heavily, the air whistling through his nostrils. His heart thudded loudly, the beats reverberating through his entire body. To think he’d believed his years of experience on the battlefield had rid him entirely of fear. The threat of dying by Nature’s will had taught him something new today.

  “Jonnar, are you okay?” Jillian asked, anxiety clear in her voice. He blinked up into the weak brightness above. Jillian peered down at him.

  “Stay away from the sides,” he ordered. “The ground there will be unstable.”

  He searched for purchase beneath him with his telekinesis so he could launch himself to safety, but the hole went too deep. He would have to claw his way up.

  Sections of loose soil made the task difficult. But, finally, he reached the rim. He pushed himself free of the hole, collapsing onto the ground some distance from it in an exhausted huff.

  “You’re bleeding,” Jillian said, kneeling beside him. She touched his forearm, worry forming a furrow between her eyebrows. He inspected the back of his forearm where a long, angry cut leaked blood.

  He shrugged. As a soldier, he’d fared a lot worse. Cuts were a blessing compared to laser wounds, stab wounds, and broken bones as a result of heavy objects slammed repeatedly against various parts of his body.

  “So are you.” He sat up, his gaze flickering to the cut on her forehead before roving all over her body for any other visible signs of blood. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  She touched her forehead and shook her head. Then she dropped her hand to her lap as she giggled. Jonnar eyed her with confusion when her giggle became a full laugh.

  “What is it? What do you find so amusing?” He frowned. Here he was concerned she or the child had hidden injuries and yet she found humour in the matter?

  “It’s like,” she began, struggling to speak through the laughter, “it’s like some higher power wants us dead! Don’t you see?” She spread her fingers and counted off each disaster. “First the attack, then the wormhole, then those monsters with guns.”

  “Muridians?”

  “Yeah, those guys! And somehow we lived. But no. That’s no good. We’re supposed to die! Dead, dead, dead! So the planet’s about to go kaboom, but the ship can’t get fixed. Just to make sure the job’s good and done and we’re cold and stiff as can be… earthquakes! Sinkholes! Possibly death by dehydration from all this heat!”

  She laughed again and Jonnar found it too infectious not to smile as well. She spoke the truth. It did seem like the gods were determined to rid them from existence. Nevertheless, he refused to accept that fate. All his life he’d been a fighter, and whatever it took to ensure their survival—Jillian’s survival—he would do it.

  He’d almost lost her today. Had he not acted in time, she would have perished. Residual dread left him cold, but the genuine mirth and lack of fear in her eyes warmed him. Her hair had come undone, and it hung free around her shoulders just as he liked it.

  Gods above, she was beautiful. He knew he shouldn’t, but he wanted her so badly it was like an ever present ache that refused to be ignored. The only relief that existed in this universe was her.

  “You know,” she began, and he dropped his gaze to her lips. Before she could finish her thought, before he knew what he was doing, before he could stop himself, he pulled her against him and kissed her.

  Her response was immediate and deeply satisfying. Just like the first time. She kissed him in return without any hesitation or protests. She wanted this as much as he did, and the realization stunned him as much as it pleased him.

  She climbed onto him, her knees on either sides of his thighs as she wrapped her hands around his shoulders. He embraced her as their kiss deepened, and he pulled her close, bringing her body down on top of him so she could feel how hard he’d become for her.

  “I want this,” she pleaded, pressing down harder and writhing against his length. She threaded her fingers through his hair and kissed him again, needy and desperate.

  “Gods, woman,” Jonnar groaned. Even through the cloth of their suits, the heat between her legs called to him and his cock pulsed in answer. “I want to bury myself inside you.” He slid his hands down to cup and squeeze her round backside as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against her neck. “I want nothing more than to fuck you right now.”

  She hummed a sound of agreement and then went stiff in his arms.

  “Oh god, the bad smell is back!”

  Without warning, she scrambled off his lap. Surprised, he watched her crawl away on her hands and knees, then get to her feet. Indeed, the unpleasant scent common after an earthquake had returned, but by now they’d grown accustomed to it. However, her face was pale, and she held one hand over her stomach and the other over her mouth. Jonnar stood and approached her, grimacing at the tightness in his pants.

  “Jillian—”

  She clamped her hands on his forearms, her fingers digging into his flesh. She squeezed her lips together tightly, her eyebrows pressed close in concentration. He knew what that look meant, and he realized in grim amusement he was too close in her range to escape the next moment unscathed.

  “Jonnar, I think I’m going to—”

  And she bent and vomited all over his boots.

  —

  “So, it’s true then? I really am pregnant?”

  Jonnar turned in his seat to face Jillian. He’d carried her back to the ship so they could both tidy themselves, then he’d led her down to the infirmary to run scans.

  “Yes,” he said, watching her closely. “The scans confirm that the implantation was successful. Your nausea was physical proof.”

  She grimaced at his new pair of boots. “Sorry for puking on your shoes.”

  She shifted her gaze to the screen, which was filled with the results of the scan, and squinted at it. He’d changed the language settings so she could understand them, and she’d reread it a number of times, her frown deepening on each reread. It was as if she was hoping for a different result each time.

  Jonnar leaned back in his seat at the infirmary scanner’s control panel. He remembered her extreme reaction when she first learned she was pregnant. She’d preferred death than being burdened with a child.

  “You seem troubled,” he said quietly. “Were you hoping all this time my words weren’t true? That the child didn’t exist?”

  She rubbed her lips together, and for a brief instance, Jonnar was transported back to that moment after the earthquake when they were kissing and touching each other after. He’d completely forgotten his good intentions and all his words cautioning restraint. Given the chance, he would have taken her right then and there.

  “No, that’s not—it doesn’t matter.” She got to her feet, her face emotionless as she folded her arms. “What’s next? Not to sound callous, but it’s already done its job—it kept me alive. So we don’t… we don’t have to keep it.”

  Jonnar sat perfectly still, astonished into silence. She hated the idea of having his child so much she wanted to rid herself of it? Granted, he didn’t relish the thought of being a father, but he’d made peace with himself that he’d do his best, be his best fo
r the child.

  Outrage burned in his chest and put life into his limbs again. He got to his feet and strode toward her.

  “I will not let you destroy it,” he said, his tone low and forbidding.

  She scowled at him. “That’s not your choice to make.”

  “It isn’t yours alone to make, either.”

  “Look…” She swallowed and edged away from him, refusing to meet his gaze. “You said you didn’t want any complications between us. Not having the baby would make sure that doesn’t happen.” Her voice sounded thick and Jonnar’s anger dimmed when he noticed her wiping away tears from her face. “It’ll be easier on the both of us.”

  “Jillian.” He cupped her face and raised her head so she could look at him. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. The well of sadness in them went so deep, it threatened to swallow him whole. “What do you fear?”

  “This baby is going to die,” she said savagely, jerking her face away from his hand.

  He stared at her without responding, momentarily lost for words.

  “You do not know this will happen—” he began, but Jillian cut him off.

  “I do because it’s happened before. Twice. I got pregnant and then I lost them.” She wrapped her hands around herself, trembling. “I can’t be a mother. Third time isn’t the charm here. This baby isn’t going to live. So I think maybe I should take matters into my own hands this time around.”

  “You have a mate?” he asked, his voice gruff. While her words saddened him, the thought of her carrying another man’s seed lit a fiery trail of jealousy through him. He realized though he’d learnt a lot about her in a short time, there was still much more he’d yet to uncover.

  “No,” said Jillian, daubing at her damp eyes. “He found someone else when I couldn’t give him what he wanted.”

  “What else could he have desired when he had perfection in his grasp?”

  Jonnar touched her face, his thumb smoothing away the moisture from the corners of her eyes.

  He revelled in the slight pinkness in her cheeks. She was so responsive to everything he did and said, even in these unpleasant moments. He wondered how she’d behave when—if—he took her.

  An onslaught of explicit thoughts accosted him. Now is not the time. For the moment, he wanted to rid her of all her worries and fears and sadness.

  “You must not blame yourself,” Jonnar continued. “He was weak. This is why the babes he sired did not live.” He held her gaze, his voice filled with conviction. “But my child,” he dropped his hand to lay his palm against her stomach, the touch intimate and possessive, “our child will live.”

  She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and gods above, he wanted to do the same. What was wrong with him? His years of discipline were like ashes in the wind where she was concerned.

  Then she released her lip and sighed.

  “You’re really persuasive, you know that?”

  “So I have been told.”

  “By who? The women you seduced and managed to get handsy with?”

  “Yes.” He regarded her with amusement. She couldn’t hide the jealousy no matter how she tried. “And my mother. I have never encountered another as strong-willed until you, sukaya.” A small smile curved his lips as the memories of his mother in happier times came to him. “When I was a child, it was difficult to get her to do what I asked. I learned if I complimented her first she became far more amenable to my requests.”

  Jillian smiled. “I’m pretty sure she’s caught on to your tricks by now.”

  “Perhaps she did, but I would never know.” The pleasant memories faded, his good humour disappearing along with them as the darker memories reared their heads. “She was sick and now she is dead.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jonnar,” Jillian said, her eyes filled with genuine remorse as she touched his arm. “I hope she lived a happy life and that she passed away peacefully.”

  She remained silent, peering at him as if waiting for him to say more. He wished he could. He wanted to tell her the truth. His mother’s life had been ruled by sickness and pain. Her death had been far from peaceful, and was certainly undeserved—his father had made sure of that.

  But Jonnar relished delving into his awful history as much as he liked being flayed alive with a blade coated in acid. To share the truth of his mother’s death meant he had to reveal the rest of the story. He wasn’t prepared to share that with her and watch as her trust in him vanished. To have her view him as so many others did years ago.

  “You must return to your room. You need to eat and rest now,” he ordered, changing the subject. “No objections,” he tacked on when she frowned and opened her mouth.

  “You know what, Jonnar? If you’re right and this baby lives, I hope it doesn’t turn out like its father.”

  He smirked. “You don’t want our child to be intelligent, handsome, and skillful?”

  “No, I don’t want it to be a perpetual pain in my ass!”

  Highly amused, Jonnar watched as she stalked out of the infirmary in an indignant huff.

  9

  Jillian

  —

  Some invisible force pushed Jillian out of the depths of sleep.

  Her eyes flickered open to discover Jonnar seated on the bed, watching her.

  Jillian sat up and covered her yawn with her hand. She eyed Jonnar warily, her cheeks warm under his steady blue-violet stare.

  “How long have you been sitting there?”

  “Not long.”

  Oh god. She hoped she hadn’t been snoring—especially the obnoxious, open-mouthed, pig-sounding kind of snores either. She’d been told she did those on occasion.

  “Why are you in here?” With the exception of their first night on this planet, they slept in different quarters. She wiped at her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair to tame it. When had she fallen asleep, anyway? She remembered stewing over Jonnar’s controlling ways and then… nothing. Apparently she had needed the rest after all. Damn. She hated when he was right.

  “To update you on our progress,” he said. “The Dava male—Kess—claims there is enough salvageable material from their ship’s wreckage. He has promised to accompany me to retrieve the material.”

  Jillian raised her eyebrows in excitement. “So that’s what he was going to tell us before the earthquake!” Then she eyed the bag slung over his shoulder and frowned as she remembered his words. “Wait a minute—you said accompany ‘me,’ not ‘us’. You’re not taking me with you?”

  His lips thinned. “No, I am not. It will be dangerous. There is no telling what lurks on this planet. You will stay on the ship and await my return.”

  “It’ll be even more dangerous if I stay here on this metal box by myself. If boredom doesn’t kill me first, then those monsters will.”

  “The Muridians cannot harm you. This ship is inaccessible without my command.”

  She was unimpressed. “That doesn’t stop them from shooting a hole in the side with their guns.”

  “Their guns cannot—”

  “Please, Jonnar.” She softened her voice, her eyes pleading. “Don’t leave me behind. I know you think it’s safer if I stay here, but I’ll feel a lot safer if I’m with you.”

  He stared at her for a long time without responding. His features grew darker with each passing second, and Jillian worried he would ignore her pleas and follow his original plan. He’d said she was strong-willed, but he was just as stubborn too.

  “Sukaya, I don’t know what you’ve done to me,” he said finally, his voice carrying a note of defeat and quiet amazement. He shifted closer. His skin carried a light scent of the chemical they used to clean themselves and his own natural musk. Jillian remembered the last moment they were this close. They were a lot closer, actually. His powerful arms holding her on top of him, his hardness pressed up between her legs as his mouth devoured hers.

  “What do you mean?”

  Jillian breathed deeply, arousal presenting all sorts of deliciously filthy p
ossibilities in her head. They were alone and on her bed. The last time he’d growled he wanted to fuck her, but they’d been outside and her nausea had gotten in the way. There was nothing stopping him from making good on that promise now.

  “With each passing day, saying no to you gets harder.” He shook his head as he retreated and got to his feet. “If you wish to accompany me on the journey, so be it. But you will follow my orders to the letter.”

  “When have I ever disobeyed them?” she said, affecting an innocent expression. She ignored the disappointment from the distance he’d put between them.

  He gave her a look of amusement. “Prepare yourself, then meet me outside.”

  Jillian didn’t waste any time. As soon as he left, she washed herself with the liquid chemical and hurried outside.

  The afternoon gave way to evening, the once pale blue sky gradated from indigo to peach. The heat from the daytime persisted, but a cool breeze weakened it. Jonnar conversed with Kess. They stood in front of what looked like a buggy, except it had no wheels and a cart was attached at the back.

  “Have you reconsidered?” Jonnar asked when he approached her.

  “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, buddy. I will cling to your leg and let you drag me along if I have to.”

  Jonnar chuckled. “You are a strange and amusing woman.” He pressed his palm to the access pad outside the ship and the ramp slid up, sealing the ship shut. “Come.”

  He guided her toward the buggy with a hand on the small of her back. The spot where he touched her seemed to warm her whole body.

  “Do you trust this guy?” Jillian asked, watching Kess suspiciously. The Muridians were three dark grey lumps not too far off. She couldn’t quite make out what they were doing, but their baleful gaze brought goosebumps to her skin. She shuddered inwardly. Ugh. She’d worried Jonnar would leave her alone with them. What worried her now was if they decided to come along for the journey.

 

‹ Prev