by Celia Styles
“Ow!” she cried.
“Ssh, ssh,” he said. He spoke, but she did not understand the words at first and then they became clear.
“…different species take different times to adjust. Can you understand me now?”
“What am I adjusting too?”
“A temporary universal translator. We traders use them when contacting different species that don’t use the permanent implants. Does it hurt?”
“Yes.”
“That will go away with time. I’m Ephren.”
“Shelley Wilson.”
“Hello, Shelley Wilson. Listen, you said something about help. My partner is injured. We had a rough time going into the wormhole—”
“Wormhole,” Shelley gasped. “You talk like you are some kind of alien.”
He smiled as though she told a joke. “Some kind.”
“I—I have to go.” She turned to flee. He caught her arm.
“Listen, Shelley Wilson. Usually I’m not so rude, but I can really use your help. He struck his head. It’s bleeding and he won’t wake up. I’ve got to take care of this ship before the radiation contaminates too much of the ground here. You wouldn’t want it to seep into the water table, do you?”
“No, but radiation? Are we at risk?”
“I have tablets for organics like us that will protect us. I already gave one to your companion here. He says that you are good at healing and assures me that you are a nice and helpful creature” —He chuckled—“even though you walk on two legs.”
“Dogs can’t talk!” she protested.
“Maybe not in a way that sounds like language to you, but most organics have some sort of communication system that the translator can pick up.”
Jackson butted up against her legs and barked and, for all the world, it sounded like, “Help. Help friendly two-legged.”
“Oh man,” said Shelley, feeling the world spin around her. “Maybe I got knocked in the head last night.”
“Help, help,” Jackson barked more urgently. “Hurt, hurt.”
“Come on,” said Ephren. “I’ll take you to my partner, Marcon.”
#
Ephren led Shelley to an opening in his ship and held out his hand for her to take. He pulled her in and she looked around.
“Is your ship damaged?” she said.
“We’ve got a few repairs to do, but nothing I can’t handle. It’s just that when we were ejected from the wormhole, we couldn’t pull up to avoid entering your atmosphere, so a few things broke. Come, he’s this way.”
Shelley looked around at the metal walls and the decking under her feet as Ephren led her down a corridor to an open door. Stretched out on a bench lay a tall man, thinner in the body than Ephren, though he looked muscular as well. His skin was so pale it almost looked blue. His dark hair was a strange contrast to the color of his skin.
“He looks like he lost a lot of blood.”
Ephren looked at her confused. “Why do you say that?”
“Because,” she whispered. “He’s so white.”
Ephren relaxed and smiled. “No. That’s his natural color. But he did hit his head. Marcon, I brought someone to take a look at you.”
Marcon groaned. “Go away.”
“At least he’s talking, that’s a good sign.”
“Listen to him long enough and you won’t think so.”
The other man opened his eyes and Shelley was stunned by their blue depths. They shined like sapphires.
“Do I know you?” he asked, looking confused.
Shelley laughed. “Listen buddy, that’s the oldest line in the book. Can you sit up?”
“Line? What do you mean line?” Marcon asked as he pushed himself up and swung his legs to the floor. Above his right eye, his forehead was swollen and bleeding.
“That does look like a nasty blow. Let me look at you.”
Shelley, in the absence of her usual tools, pressed her fingers around his bump and his eye socket. “Do you feel any pain?”
He smiled at her. “Not anymore.”
Ephren scoffed. “I’ll go finish my work,” he said. With that, Shelley was alone with Marcon.
The pale man smiled at her brightly. “I think I do know you. I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The Proposition
Shelley ignored most of what Marcon said. He did, after all, suffer a blow to the head. She cleaned the injury to his forehead gently and attached steri-strips to close the wound.
“I think you will be okay,” she said. “Head wounds look worse than they are most of the time. How did you get it, anyway?”
“I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt. When we were pitched into the wormhole, I fell forward into the command panel.”
“Well, you should always wear your seatbelt.”
He nodded solemnly as though he was handed the word of God. “Yes. I shall from now on. Tell me, do you have any mates?”
For Shelley, the word translated to husbands.
“No. Not one husband.”
“You should have some.”
She laughed. “Some? That’s not how we do things here.”
“It’s not? Tell me.Where is here?”
“We call it Earth. Our planet is located in the middle of one of the galactic spirals, toward its outer edge.”
“We are very off course,” he mused. “Yet—” His voice trailed off.
“I have to go.”
“No!” he said, a little too loudly. “I mean, I’d appreciate it if you’d stay. Tell me how you do things here.”
“It’s late.”
“So you think, after a blow to head, I should be left alone.”
“No,” she sighed.
“Tell me, why do you not have mates?”
“I’ve been busy with school, and then work and oh, hell, men just don’t appreciate a plus-sized figure.”
“You cannot seriously tell me the men on this planet do not find you beautiful.”
“Apparently not.”
“Then the men on your planet are idiots. Where I come from, you’d be celebrated as a goddess among women.”
“I bet you say that to all the Earth girls.”
“I’ve not met other Earth girls, but then again, I do not have to.”
“Now what do you mean by that?”
Marcon picked up her hand. “It is said among my people that when we meet our an-prytl we know it in our hearts.”
“What is an an-prytl.”
“Our destined mate.” He looked deeply into her eyes when he said that and she shivered.
“I’ll tell you truthfully. I’m not like the men on my planet. I do not like being told what to do and I like to be able to choose what to do with my time. On my planet, they call men like me ‘difficult'.” He moved slightly to bring his face closer to hers and her heart raced.
“Well, that sounds like the men of this planet.”
“Really,” he said huskily. “Sounds like I came to the right planet.”
“And how do you know this an-prytl,” she said, nearly stuttering.
“Smell,” he said bringing his nose to her neck and breathing deeply. “Taste,” and he licked behind her ear. “Mmmm, you are delicious. And feel,” and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him.
Shelley swallowed hard. Every time he touched her, it was as if he lit a fire within her. She tried to tell herself that this wasn’t right, that she didn’t know this man, that she should stop. But right now, Marcon was giving her butterfly kisses on her neck and it felt so damn good she didn’t ever want it to stop.
He dropped his head to her breasts and licked his lips. “These,” he said, “are so beautiful.” Marcon pulled up her shirt and traced his fingers along the edge of her bra. “This is an unusual garment,” he said. He pressed his lips on the mounds of her ample cleavage. “You are so sexy.”
Shelley thought Marcon was the sexy one. With his head buried in her breasts, she drew in the scent of
his hair. It was musky and earthy, almost like sandalwood, sending her thoughts far away from her life, from what she should actually be doing right now. No. What she wanted right now was more of this man, this gorgeous creature, who right now was laving her breasts with his tongue.
“A second,” she said. Shelley leaned forward and, reaching back, unclasped her bra, letting her bosom fall into his face. He gasped lightly and renewed his efforts on her flesh.
“Here,” she said cupping her breast from underneath pushing her nipple forward. “My nipples are always sensitive.”
He looked up and smiled at her, then attacked the nipple with gusto, sucking it in between his lips and giving it little nips from his teeth. She made a small gasp, which encouraged him more. He leaned her back on the bunk, quickly putting a pillow behind her head, and kissed quickly down her ribs and stomach. He stopped at her pants with a questioning look.
Marcon watched intently as she unsnapped her jeans, and with his two hands, drew them down slowly, almost as if he performed a sacred right. Once he freed her legs from them, he pulled apart her legs and brought his tongue to her soft folds.
He drew in a breath. “You taste glorious.” He slowly swirled his tongue on her tender flesh, causing her to shiver. She moaned and he leaned in some more, flicking his tongue on her clit.
Shelly grabbed his hair and pulled him in even closer. His mouth and his tongue licked, kissed, nibbled and swirled, stirring her passion to heat than to flame. She came, every nerve ending bursting.
But he did not stop sucking on her clit, sending her into fiery spasms once more. He threw her legs around her shoulders and thrust his tongue deep inside her, flicking back and forth, causing her now-oversensitive pussy to send another orgasm through her, this one harder than the last. She cried out this time, unable to believe that one man could bring her such pleasure.
He pulled back and stared up at her, smiling. “Do you want more?”
“More?” she squeaked. She did not know if she could handle more.
“Of course, for more, we need Ephren.”
“What?” she shrieked. The idea terrified her and intrigued her at the same time. Two men, two different aliens, at the same time?
“Is everything—“ Ephren rushed into the cabin and stopped short. His look of concern changed into a smirk.
“Now? While we are stranded on planet with repairs to do?”
Marcon took Shelley’s hand and kissed it. “I need a few words with my partner. Don’t go anywhere!” Marcon bounded from the bunk. When he pushed Ephren out the door he turned and gave her a wink.
“We’ll be right back!”
“What the fuck,” said Ephren surprised his partner was so energetic after his injury. They walk several yards from Marcon’s cabin.
“It’s her, our an-prytl. Is she not beautiful? Is she--”
“Slow the fuck down. Our an-prytl. And what the fuck is an an-prytl?”
“Our destined mate.”
“You keep coming up with this our shit.”
That seemed to slow Marcon down and his face drew tight with tension.
“We’ve been partners for five years, Ephren, and shared women. I thought, oh hells, I’ve assumed too much haven’t I?”
“Fuck, Marcon. How can I know? You barely speak to me about these things.”
“I shouldn’t have to.”
“Hello, asshole. I’m not from your freaky planet and not one of you blue skinned bastards.”
Marcon nodded. “We, oh hells, I guess I do have to put some words to this.”
Ephren leaned against the bulkhead crossing his arms waiting for Marcon to speak.
“On other planets, men and women pair, do they not?”
Ephren shrugged. “Yeah?”
“On my planet men form pairs. They meet their mating partner and then the two meet their mate.”
“And you consider us a pair? You think I’m your mating partner?”
“I wouldn’t have stuck around as long as I did if you weren’t.”
Ephren stared at him flabbergasted. He spread his hands. “Why me?”
“Why not you?”
“I mean, why not one of your people, someone who would understand this shit?”
Marcon sighed. “I had one. He was a few years older than me. It didn’t work out. I wanted to see the stars. He complained I was immature. Our families entered into negotiations with a woman to be our mate and I didn’t like her at all.”
“So just like that you were done?”
“We weren’t just done. I was exiled. A matched pair gets the highest dowries and my family and his negotiated a very, very good one from the female’s family. My family was furious I rejected the offer and withdrew financial support. I had to drop out of school, and had nowhere to go. I stowed away on a ship and got away from my planet. Then I hung out on the docks of that planet looking for a ship to sign on to. That’s when you found me.”
“Wait, all that shit you gave me about being a navigator—”
“Okay, I lied. But once I saw your com panel, and saw the equations that ran through the nav computer, I knew I could handle them. Advanced Mathematics was my best class in school.”
“One class,” squeaked Ephren. “One class is all you took? And I let you fly my brand new ship?”
“Your brand new rust bucket, you mean.” Marcon stared at him with his usual hard glare and suddenly everything snapped in place for Ephren. For as much as a pain in the ass Marcon could be Ephren couldn’t see anyone else being his partner. And if that meant he’d have to accommodate some part of his partner’s freaky biology to keep that going he could live with it.
Maybe.
“And that woman in there? You think she’s our mate?”
“Do you not feel it too?”
Ephren thought he felt some sort of pull, but he couldn’t identify it. He hardly knew her. Ephren did find her attractive. He especially liked her full and luscious ass. But mate? He wasn’t sure about that.
“I’m not getting this. First you are talking about arranged matings, but you insist you feel this woman is your mate.”
Marcon stared at him like he was stupid. “I can’t help it that I come from the upper classes where such things as mating into the “proper” family is important. For most of us we recognize our mate when we see her.”
Ephren turned this over in his head. It was true that some species did this. Instantaneous matings, where individuals met and were biologically drive to mate within an hour, were not unheard of. But it was rare, and Marcon’s species was so isolationist that he never expected Marcon’s species to be one of these.
“I guess my homing beacon is not as sharp as yours.”
“It never has been,” snarked Marcon.
Another thought occurred to Ephren. “Wait, just how upper crust is your family?”
Marcon smirked and started to walk away, leaving Ephren with one more godsdamn secret. “Go spend some time with her. You’ll see,” Marcon said over his shoulder. “I’ll go check out the damage to the ship.”
“No,” said Ephren. “Go finish spraying the radiation retardant on the hull.”
“Okay,” said Marcon agreeably. “I’ll do that.” Ephren was surprised in the sudden shift in Marcon’s attitude. The past two months had been filled with “fuck you” and “do it your own damned self.” His partner sauntered down the corridor leaving Ephren to the alien female Marcon was convinced was their mate.
Chapter 6
Threesome
“Hey,” said Ephren poking in his head to Marcon’s cabin.
Shelley looked up at him, her dark eyes filled with confusion. She’d drawn up the blanket from the bunk around her shoulders, clutching it tightly at her chest.
“Where’s Marcon?”
“He thought we should talk.”
“About what?”
“To get to know each other.”
“I think I want to go home now.”
“Okay.”
&
nbsp; “Okay?”
“You’re not a prisoner, Shelley. You can leave when you want.”
“I can.” She swallowed hard and looked like she couldn’t make up her mind.
“Yeah, but I can’t guarantee that Marcon won’t follow you home. When he sees something he wants he goes after it. Is there someone where you live that might object to an alien following you everywhere?”
“Oh God, my dad. Oh, what have I done?”
Ephren felt upset immediately. The waves of confusion and distressed rolled off Shelley so palatably that they merged with his emotions. Quickly he crossed the little cabin and sat next to her.
“Ssh, ssh. Everything is going to be fine,” he said trying to keep his voice calm.
“It’s not. You guys are aliens! And I, oh God, me and Marcon.” She looked shocked and Ephren picked up sexual excitement when she said Marcon’s name. This was interesting. Some races were adept at absorbing other people’s emotions, though Ephren’s weren’t among them. Was her species one that projected their emotions on others? Interspecies relations were damned difficult.
Ephren put his arm and around her and drew her to his chest wondering what he could do to get her to relax.
“Yeah, he is a pain in the ass.”
She looked up at him with her sinfully brown eyes and he smiled. “But he’ll grow on you, like he did on me.”
“That,” she licked her lips nervously, “isn’t the problem. It’s just—aliens? Here you’re just a myth and a rumor.”
Ephren stared at her pink tongue as it worked her lips. It looked warm and inviting, and he could think of something else to do with that seductive tongue. “Well, your planet is off the shipping lanes.”
“Shipping lanes?”
“Sure, there are thousands of different species, and trillions upon trillions of sentients. But most center around the galactic core. And generally the Galactic Council has rules about contacting species that haven’t achieved intergalactic flight capabilities. If they know about you, they’ve been watching, but they don’t interfere.”
Shelley took in this information.
“Then why are you here?”