Zivan (Scifi Alien Romance) (Galactic Mates)

by Luna Hunter

  “Any hits?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady and calm.

  The last I want is for the arrogant Zoran to smell my arousal…

  “Hm,” he muses, his voice a low grumble. “Yes, Emily Forrester is in the database. Arrived a week ago.”

  “Good. Is she still on station?”

  “There’s no record of her checking out, so it’s possible.”

  “What’s the last sign of her?”

  “Let’s check the video logs, see if the algorithm can find her using facial recognition. Yes, I have a hit. Last seen entering the Universe Foundation, about… two days ago.”

  “That’s very close to when she sent her message to her folks,” I say. “What it this Foundation?”

  “Not sure,” Zivan says. He clicks a few links and brings up the Foundation’s page. A melange of smiling aliens appear on the screen, of all shapes and sizes.

  “Seems to be an exchange program of some kind.”

  See the Universe — Join Today, the page reads.

  A cold shiver runs down my spine. The smiling faces are all a bit too… perfect. Too happy. It all seems plastic. Fake.

  “Can you bring up more info?”

  Zivan types on his datapad, but the screen shows an error message.

  “That’s strange,” he says. “It says I don’t have the required permission to access this info. Must be some bug in the system.”

  “Perhaps. Or they’re hiding something from us.”

  “Can I see this message you were talking about?”

  “Of course,” I say.

  With a few taps of my com I send the video-message to Zivan. He plays it on his screen.

  “Hi mom, hi dad,” Emily Forrester says.

  The hair on the back of my neck stands up when I hear Emily’s voice. She sounds so much like my sister…

  “I’m having a blast here on the Observer. So much that I decided to extend my stay indefinitely. I’ll be in touch. Bye.”

  Zivan plays the message again a few times, trying to find something suspicious, something out of the ordinary. “Seems like an open and shut case to me,” he says. “Your girl seems to be enjoying her first trip out into the real world. She joined this exchange program because she wants to see more of the universe. I don’t see any evidence of a crime.”

  Hmm. “Then why hasn’t your database seen any sign of her since she entered the Foundation?”

  Zivan shrugs with his broad shoulders.

  “The algorithm is not perfect. There are millions of people here on the Observer, all being watched in real time. There are gaps in the data at time. Doesn’t mean it’s foul play.”

  “It’s not proof of its absence, either. Can you send me the coordinates of this Foundation? I want to check it out.”

  “Sure thing, but you’ll have to wait to tomorrow. It’s most definitely closed by now.”

  “I don’t have the time to wait!”

  Zivan stands up, unfolding his large legs from behind his tiny desk. “I can’t let you break in there without a shred of evidence that this girl is even in trouble. If you don’t promise to behave, I’ll put you in a holding cell as a precaution.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me.”

  Zivan’s stern, golden eyes look down on me, his brow furrowed.

  Fuck me if it isn’t the sexiest look I’ve seen in a lifetime. I wouldn’t mind being put in cuffs by him…

  What am I thinking? It must the lack of sleep that’s making me delirious.

  “Fine,” I admit. “But tomorrow morning I’m going to be banging on their door the moment they open.”

  “You do what you have to.”

  Now I need to find a place to spend the night. I haven’t even thought of that. Now I have to ask the prickly Zoran for a place — I hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way…

  I scrape my throat, a flush of heat suddenly moving through me. Why is this a hard question to ask, of all things?

  “Do you know a place where I can sleep?”

  I force the words out in one go.

  He cocks his eyebrow and places his big hands on his hips.

  “I know a few,” he says.

  He’s silent for a moment, letting me linger in suspense. Damn him.

  “Are you asking me if you can spend the night at my place?”

  “No,” I blurt out. “Yes. I don’t know.”

  “There are several motels in this sector, but honestly, you don’t want to go there. As one cop to the next, trust me on this. You can sleep on my couch, if you want.”

  I can’t believe I’m going to take this man up on his offer. I hated his guts, slapped him off his stool the moment I first saw him… and now, I’m going over to his place.

  “Okay, but don’t get any funny ideas,” I say a bit too quickly.

  Zivan smirks at me, that playful, arrogant, yet adorable smile on his face once again.

  “Why would I?”

  6

  Zivan

  The shapely human walks in front of me. My eyes are inadvertently drawn to her shapely hips — is she moving them so gracefully on purpose? Is she planning to drive me mad, to tease me with her wonderful, full figure?

  No, I must be imagining it. We are just colleagues. A human female could never handle all seven feet of me, a true-born Zoran warrior, after all.

  Although I’ve never met anyone as feisty as Mia…

  “This is the place,” I say. “Number 183.”

  I place my fingertips on the lock and the door springs open.

  “It’s not much,” I warn her.

  I don’t know how humans live, exactly — human interior design has never been high on my list of interests. I do suspect, based on their style of dress, that it’s more colorful, more messy than Zoran design.

  Efficiency is the keyword in Zoran styling. My apartment is sparsely decorated, with only the core essentials.

  “Wow,” Mia gasps. “What a man cave.”

  “This is hardly a cave,” I say with a frown. “I have running water, heating, electricity. What kind of caves do you have on Earth?”

  “It’s a saying about… never mind, actually. It’s not important.”

  She places her bag on my black couch and glances around.

  “No family photos on the wall,” she says. “No art, no… what do you even do here?”

  “I sleep.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Figures.”

  “I take it your home is the coziest place on Earth?” I say as I close the door behind me.

  She crosses her arms. “Not really, actually,” she mutters, more to herself than to me. “I guess I’m not one to talk.”

  “Why is that?”

  She doesn’t answer my question. Instead she takes her trench coat off and plops down on the couch.

  “I guess this is where I’ll be staying?”

  My eyes take in the wonderful sight in front of me. Now that she’s taken off her coat, I can see that she’s wearing a black top and form-fitting jeans, a blaster holstered to her thigh.

  Resisting her has just become an inch harder.

  “You can sleep in my bed, if you want,” I say.

  She raises her eyebrow.

  “With… you?”

  Her voice is filled with surprise — and I do detect a hint of desire, if my heightened senses don’t betray me.

  Heat prickles my skin. Saying yes would be so easy.

  I have her in my apartment. There’s nowhere for her to go, to run to. She’s all mine, and I can do with her whatever I want. I can repay her for that smack she gave me, repay it tenfold, take it all out on that round, shapely, lovely ass of hers, that’s been daring me to spank it the moment she walked in…

  No, I can’t take her, I can’t force her. A proud female like Mia can’t be broken. She will submit willingly, or not at all.

  “If you want,” I say.

  A blush forms on her pale cheeks, her face matching her red hair. For the first time since meet
ing her, it seems like Mia doesn’t quite know what to say.

  “No thank you,” she mutters unconvincingly, her eyes cast downward.

  So there is something there.

  “Do you want something to drink?” I ask. “Or do you want to call it a night?”

  She glances at her com. “One more drink couldn’t hurt, I suppose.”

  I grab two glasses and the bottle of Zalurian scotch I picked up this afternoon. All the research on their species’s butter I had to do this morning led me down a rabbit hole of related articles, and in the end I got acquainted with their entire cuisine. Their scotch is supposedly the stuff of legend, which piqued my interest.

  “What’s that?” Mia asks when I plop the deep-gray bottle in front of her.

  “Only the finest Zalurian scotch credits can buy. Supposedly.”

  I open the bottle and the poignant smell instantly hits me. White pepper with hints of tobacco, and something else I can’t quite place, something distinctly alien.

  I pour us both a glass.

  “Cheers,” I say.

  I’m disappointed to find out that the reputation of Zalurian craftsmanship is sorely undeserved. The drink tastes like tar and smoked dirt. It’s sharp. Harsh.

  “That’s some heavy stuff,” Mia says as she takes a small sip. “Not bad, though.”

  My face is expressionless, but inside I’m questioning everything. Is the female messing with me? She could barely handle a taste of cuhla, yet this alien spirit poses no problem for her? I can barely get it down my throat without wincing.

  It doesn’t make a lick of sense.

  “Yes, it’s good,” I lie before I down my glass. I can’t let a female outdrink me, and the sooner I’m done, the better.

  Mia watches me swallow every last drop before she bursts out into laughter.

  “How can you stand this stuff?” she says. “It’s foul!”

  “You!” I say, wiping the last few drops from my lips. “You lied!”

  When she sees the expression on my face — shock, anger and disgust all wrapped into one — she can’t stop laughing, tears streaking down her face.

  “Why would you do that?!” I growl, her reddening face only making me angrier.

  “I was just being polite,” she says, her shoulders heaving with laughter.

  I go up to the sink and try to wash the burning taste away with water, but the foul aftertaste lingers.

  So much for making a good impression.

  “That’s the last time I offer you a drink,” I say.

  “Deal,” Mia grins.

  Damn.

  She glances at her com once again. “It’s getting late,” she says. “Maybe we should call it a night after all.”

  I nod and open the bedroom door for her.

  “All yours.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “I insist.”

  If I let her sleep in my living room, I think there’s a good chance she’ll be gone in the morning before I wake up, off to cause more ruckus. By letting her stay in my bedroom, I can make sure she doesn’t sneak out.

  “If there’s anything you need,” I say, “just yell.”

  “Thank you,” she says.

  She walks into my bedroom and closes the door behind her. The door doesn’t close properly, leaving a small gap for me to look through.

  Just as I intend to get Mia’s attention she pulls her top over her head, and her silky smooth skin makes my breath catch in my throat.

  A moment later she unbuttons her jeans and peels them down her shapely thighs.

  Blood rushes down to my cock as I watch her curvy body come into view. My skin prickles, a jolt of electricity moving through my broad frame.

  My fingers itch to grab a handful of that round ass of hers.

  I feel guilty for looking at her like this, without her permission, but I can’t look away, try as I might. My eyes are glued to her beautiful, barely clothed body.

  Only her black bra and panties cover her pale frame.

  My tongue wets my lips, my hands balled up into fists. I promised myself I wasn’t going to barge into my bedroom and make her mine, but it’s hard. It’s very, very hard.

  She walks into my bathroom, out of my sight, and I shake my head.

  Get it together, Zivan.

  I slide my uniform off, my hard cock springing free, and lie down on my couch. I like to sleep completely naked. For Mia’s sake I cover my body with a sheer blanket - yet the thin cloth does nothing to hide my thick, throbbing bulge.

  Nothing I can do about that.

  7

  Mia

  Zivan’s bed is warm and cozy. Nothing like the rest of his apartment — he lives like a monk, without a hint of flourish.

  Then again, I’m not one to talk. I practically live at the office. If sleeping under your desk wasn’t frowned upon, I might do just that.

  I wake up at seven. His apartment doesn’t have windows — we’re on a space station after all, though the thing is so big it’s easy to forget that — but it does have lights that simulate a regular day/night cycle. Sleeping in until seven is a long night, for me, as I’m a very light sleeper. I must have been exhausted. That must be why I went home with the purple Zoran in the first place.

  I can’t believe I’m here, in his bed, wearing nothing but my underwear. I never go home with guys, and certainly not headstrong, alpha Zoran warriors! Even if we are, strictly speaking, colleagues. I’m surprised and, if I’m completely honest with myself, slightly disappointed he didn’t try to make a move on me.

  I mean, he did ask me if I wanted to sleep in this bed with him. Or, well, actually I asked him that. He just offered me the bedroom.

  And besides, his answer was a joke.

  I think.

  Why does the warrior confuse me so?!

  Is it because of his seven feet frame? His well-fitted uniform, that perfectly highlights every one of his many, many features? Or is it his relentless teasing, his arrogant, alpha personality?

  I’ve never met a man who is as infuriating as he is irresistible.

  Keep it in your pants, Mia. You’re not here on a social visit. You’re here to do your job.

  Time to go visit this Foundation and see what Emily Forrester is up to. Even though my gut tells me something foul is going on, I’m really hoping that Jackson and Zivan are right. If she’s just a runaway, enjoying a vacation fling, I can be back in this bed later today… and perhaps I won’t be alone then.

  I stretch my arms above my head, yawning loudly. I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.

  I take a quick shower, surprising myself with the urge to acquaint myself with the shower head. Zorans have heightened senses, and I don’t know how good his hearing… or his sense of smell… is.

  Zivan embarrasses me enough as it is — I don’t need him to hear me pleasuring myself as well.

  Not yet anyway, a small voice in the back of my head says.

  After getting dressed I crack open the bedroom door and stop dead in my tracks.

  Zivan’s sprawled out on the couch, completely and totally naked. A thin blanket lies crumpled up on the floor next to him. It must have slid off in the night.

  I should cough, or better yet, slam my door really hard, anything to get his attention… but instead, I just stand there.

  And look.

  His purple body looks even better naked. Every muscle in his body is perfectly defined, like a statue of old. Intricate tattoos cover his arms and part of his chest. It looks like a sun, drawn in a way that reminds me of ancient South-American cultures. I wonder what the significance is, though by asking him, I’ll have to reveal I saw him naked.

  My eyes travel further down, past his perfect abs, down to the one thing I’m really interested in.

  His Zoran cock.

  My breath quickens when I see it.

  His cock is laying on his thigh, and I’m surprised to see its immense size. Even now, not even fully hard, it’s more than impressive.

&n
bsp; I wonder how big it’ll grow…

  His cock is the same color as him, a deep, beautiful purple, but I’m shocked to see the head of his cock is a different color completely: teal.

  My mouth waters and I feel the color rushing to my cheeks. I feel bad for peeping at him like this. I shouldn’t be doing this. But, try as I might, I can’t look away.

  His cock demands my attention.

  I take a step towards him. I tell myself I’m doing it because I’m going to grab his blanket and cover him up, but deep down, I know I just want a closer look.

  His eyes are closed, a faint smile on his lips. I’m afraid that any moment his eyes will fly open and he’ll catch me hovering above him like some perv.

  Perhaps he’ll discipline me; make me pay for it.

  I bend my knees to grab the blanket from the floor, which has the added and totally coincidental effect of making his Zoran cock level with my eyes.

  I can clearly see the thick veins that run up the length of his member. Every inch of him is imprinted into my brain.

  Subconsciously I lick my lips, my mouth watering at the prospect of feeling his Zoran hardness inside of me.

  His cock throbs and grows harder, and I nearly yelp in surprise. I glance at his face, but he still has the same sleepy, goofy smile on his face, his eyes closed. I watch with amazement as his cock grows, grows… and grows.

  My throat feels dry, my palms sweaty as I stand in front of the naked warrior, the blanket clutched in my hands, my eyes locked onto his pulsing member.

  It’s so damn big. I’d struggle to wrap my hand around it, let alone my lips.

  My body feels like it’s on fire, and my mind is in turmoil. The rational side of me, the one that’s usually in control, is demanding I cover him up with the blanket and get the hell out of there.

  The emotional and lustful side of me is begging for me to drop down to my knees and worship every inch of his purple-teal throbbing erection. That’s the only thing you can do when faced with such greatness — surrender yourself completely, with your whole body and soul.

  A drop of precum forms on the teal head of his cock, the impressive member standing straight up, daring me, seducing me with every throb.