Dazzled by the Alien Daredevil: An Alien Abduction Romance (The Kurians Book 5)

by Ashlyn Hawkes

  I had to do everything for her, be her caretaker, and that had been when I started to hunt and gather for every meal. Mom had the money for me to go out and hire us a personal chef, but I didn’t want that. Mom always lived a simple life, so why should I change things?

  Mom never once complained. She loved me, but she kept a lot of secrets. If Strol and I decide to do this, to be together, to actually maybe one day wear rings, then there won’t be any secrets between us. He’ll have to tell me about his father, and I’ll have to tell him that I don’t know if I want children.

  Which means that I should prepare myself for heartbreak now because he needs to have children.

  To be a mom would mean that I would have to settle down. I would have to once again put someone else’s needs ahead of my own. I did that with my mom, so I know I can do that, but the idea terrifies me. A tiny life, one so small and helpless, completely reliant on me.

  No, on us. I already know that Strol is very devoted. He would help to raise his child.

  But what if I mess up? What if I ruin the child? I don’t know if I could handle that. I’m too selfish to be a mom, aren’t I? I know people can change, but can I change that much?

  I swallow hard and force myself to stare at Strol. Tears prickle my eyes, and one falls.

  Wordlessly, Strol crosses the short distance between us. His fingers brush away my tears, and I grab his wrist, turn my head, and kiss his palm.

  His other hand comes up to cup my cheek. “Isabella,” he murmurs.

  There's so much he infuses into my name, but mostly, there's that emotion I refuse to look at that deeply. For now, I ignore it too. Whatever the future has in store for me, for us, if there even is an us, I know that I need him at this very moment. I need a connection with another human, so I can stop feeling so alone in this world.

  Later, afterward, then I can decide if he’s the one connection I need or if anyone would do. Because if anyone would do, then I’m not ready to be with him and only him, but if only Strol can make me happy, well, then, I will need to have a long, frank talk with him about the future.

  The future. That’s something I have no plans for, and the thought of making plans now terrifies me.

  But looking into Strol’s blue eyes with a faint speck of a neon hue, brings me a sense of peace that I doubt I could find elsewhere. Maybe it’s time I grow up and stop acting like an overgrown teenager and take responsibility. I did that with my mom. I can do that now if I want to. So far, though, since her death, I’ve been refusing to do that.

  I’m in denial about so many things.

  But Strol, he understands me. He accepts me for who I am, and while he doesn’t know why I am the way I am, he doesn’t judge me.

  “Alien daredevil,” I murmur as I push off the seat and finally stand.

  His lips curl into a wonderful smile. “Admit it,” he says with a boastful air. “Admit that you’re dazzled by the alien daredevil.”

  I tilt back my head and laugh. “So very cocky.”

  “Yes,” he murmurs, his voice husky now as he wraps an arm around my waist.

  A thrill goes through me, and I shiver.

  “Are you cold?” he asks, running his hands up and down my back.

  “No,” I murmur.

  He gently pulls my shirt, so it's free from my shorts, and his touch against my bare back burns me. With a simple caress, it feels like he's searing me, branding me, and I tilt my head back again.

  This time, he uses that as an opportunity to plant kisses on my neck, to suck the delicate skin there. He’s gentle, though, and already, this time feels different. It’s tender and slow. It’s not hurried, but it’s still passionate, just in a different way.

  An even more intimate way.

  “Strol,” I murmur, his name almost coming out a prayer.

  “Isabella, I want you.”

  I open my eyes, not even certain when I closed them, and I stare into his eyes. He doesn’t just mean physically. He doesn’t just want my body.

  He wants me.

  All of me.

  I cup his face and kiss him. A few more tears fall. Why does this feel like I’m saying goodbye? But am I saying goodbye to him or this version of myself?

  Slowly, he removes my clothes, his fingers trailing down my body, caressing every inch of skin. He plants kisses all over my body. Sometimes, he’ll lick a spot instead of planting a kiss, and I shiver each time, not jerking with surprise, allowing him to have access to my body, to let him do what he wants to me.

  He's behind me, lavishing my back with attention, and when he comes around to the side, he doesn't finish and come to my front. Instead, he sweeps me into his arms and takes me to a door. At his nod, I open it, and inside is a tiny bed, almost a cot.

  “Even fighter pilots need to sleep,” he murmurs. He tenderly places me on the bed. “Do you want to sleep?”

  Why is he asking me this? He’s set my every nerve ending on fire, and I need him to fan the flames.

  This is one fire I don't want to be extinguished.

  “Only if you’re going to sleep with me,” I murmur, reaching up to clasp my hands behind his neck.

  He kisses me with passion, and he climbs onto the bed with me. He has to be on top of me because the bed is that small, and I try to rub against him, but he draws back, somewhat on his side, cupping my boobs, playing with my nipples, tickling my stomach. My one leg moves to the side to give him access, my other leg pinned, and I wait for him to help me with this deep-seated ache that’s building within me.

  But he takes his time, lavishing my body with love and attention. Yes, love. There’s no other word for it. He’s touching me everywhere, and he’s staring at me with wonder in his eyes, as if he wants time to stop, as if he wants to memorize my body.

  Because he knows this is a turning point.

  We both do.

  I lean up and kiss him and gently manage to shift us so that he’s on his back. Without taking him inside me, I mount him, and now it’s my turn to touch him everywhere until his breathing is as ragged as mine.

  Unlike Strol, I’m willing to touch his most private part, and I play with his balls, cupping them and gently tugging them away from his body. His cock is covered with precum by the time I stroke him.

  At his nod, I finally line up him with my opening, and I ease him inside. I move slowly, so slowly. This isn't the time for being like a jackrabbit. This is slow, sensual…

  My head tilts back, and my eyes close. Strol lifts up, the bed creaking in response, and his hands wrap around my neck and shoulders.

  “Open your eyes,” he murmurs.

  I do, watching him as I enjoy him. His lips twist with mounting pleasure, but he stares up at me, and this just makes the act that much more intimate.

  At this point, it can’t get any more intimate except if we’re two become one.

  In a way, it already feels that way, and I’m frightened, but I’m in too deep. He’s stolen me, taken me. What was that word he used? Dazzled? That might actually be fitting.

  With a strangled cry, my orgasm rolls over me, cresting like a massive wave, reminding me of Niagara Falls. We should go back and find a spot where we can make love outside where the mist can spray over our slick bodies.

  Make love. Did I really just think that?

  I did.

  Another orgasm overwhelms me, and this time, Strol comes too. He pulls me down to rest on him, and I have to wait a long minute for my heartbeat to slow.

  I shift to lie beside him, which means we both have to be on our side or else risk falling off the small bed.

  “Yes,” I murmur, cupping his face. “Yes, maybe I am a little dazzled by you.”

  “Don’t worry.” He props up on his elbow and traces lazy circles on my neck and upper chest. “I’m dazzled by you too.”

  13

  Strol

  It’s not easy sleeping on this tiny bed. Even if I were to sleep on it alone, it wouldn’t be the most comfortable. Not with my bulk and
size. Had Novans truly slept on this bed? The thought boggles my mind.

  But even more so, Isabella boggles my mind. Something happened. Something has shifted between us, and I know that her feelings are changing.

  Mine haven’t. I adore her, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Whether she’ll let me or not remains to be seen, but I do think that she might be willing to give us a chance at the very least.

  We had another round of lovemaking after we admit to each other that we're dazzled by one another, and now, she's sleeping. I wish I could sleep with her too, but I can't, and each time I shift, she stirs slightly.

  Leaving her to rest, I ease off the bed. I'm about to lie down and sleep on the floor beside the bed when my chip chirps. I go to ignore it, as I've been all along. Father has stopped trying to contact me for some time now. I thought he gave up on me. Then again, what if I've been wrong all this time and it's been my mom or sister who is trying to get ahold of me?

  I can’t deny that the thought of calling Mom or Sarah has come to me many times. As much as I love Isabella and my newfound freedom away from my father’s watchful gaze and overbearing ways, I do miss Mom and Sarah. My father? Not so much.

  On the slight chance it’s not my father, I finally answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Strol.”

  I wince. Stupid emotions.

  “Father,” I say evenly, leaving the area so that Isabella can sleep undisturbed.

  “How could you?” Father shouts.

  I wince. “You do not need to shout. I can hear you perfectly fine.”

  “Well, that’s good to know. You pulled a nasty little stunt, didn’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t pretend to be ignorant with me,” Father snaps. “You flew that plane, didn’t you?”

  I grit my teeth. The Earthling authorities notified my father about the plane they sighted, the one they hailed to land, the order I didn’t bother to obey. I’m still standing in the plane, and I can’t help smirking.

  “What’s wrong, Father? You don’t like that I’m doing whatever I want here? Didn’t Sarah tell you that sending me here wouldn’t be a punishment?”

  “You will turn yourself over—”

  "To what? Earthling authorities? Now, why would I do that?"

  “I can give them your exact coordinates,” Father says, sounding smug.

  “Because of this chip? This chip that I want to rip out?”

  There’s a slight pause.

  “If you think I won’t,” I continue.

  But he cuts me off. “If you do that, you won’t be able to talk to your mom and sister.”

  “I think I know that.”

  “And you also will not ever be allowed to step foot on Kuria every again.”

  “You banished me,” I say coolly. “You sent me away because you couldn’t handle me, and you thought that Earthlings would be able to? That I would listen to them? No, Father. Or should I even bother to call you that? No, Overlord Nestrol. You discarded me, so I feel no sense of loyalty—”

  “You have no loyal blood in your body. You’re a disgrace to Kurians everywhere. You think your actions have no consequences.”

  “You hate the Kurians,” I spit out. “As much as you don’t want the Novans to die out, you also hate that we aren’t Novans. Admit that, Father. It’s why you allow the Kurians to not be forced to have a career. You pretend that you’re granting us independence, but it’s more that you want to set the Kurians up for failure. There’s enough room for the Kurians to live on Earth. We don’t have to stay on Kuria. After all, there are so many more women—”

  “Ah, is that what this is about? How many women have you fucked there? More than your fair share, I assume.”

  “You know what happens when you assume,” I spit out.

  “Do not call me an ass.”

  “I’ll have you know that I haven’t fucked as many women as you would think,” I say hotly.

  “So does that mean a dozen? Half that? Three? Two?” Father hesitates. “One?”

  “It doesn’t matter, does it? You want to dictate what I can and can’t do. You want me to be a puppet, to jump at your say so. There aren’t any strings on me, Father. I’m not going to just do whatever you want. I have my own mind, my own body, and I will do as I see fit.”

  “You are welcome to, but know that if you continue to disobey me—”

  “I’m here, aren’t I? Away from my friends and family.”

  “Yes, but you were to go to the authorities—”

  “So that I could what, Father? Be put to work? So you can keep tabs on me despite my being on another planet?” I bitterly shake my head even though he can’t see me. “I don’t need you to check in on me. I’m alive. I’m on Earth. Isn’t that enough for you?”

  “No,” Father snaps. “That’s not enough for me.”

  “Why not? You want me to hate living here? You want me to be annoyed, upset? I… You need to admit something.”

  “What’s that?” he spits out.

  “That nothing I could ever do would be good enough for you.”

  “You act as if you have been wronged.”

  "That's you, though, isn't it? You've been wronged because you have a son with a mind. You have a son who won't do what he's told because he wants to do this or that or something else altogether. You think that just because I don't have you as the center of my world that I'm a failure, a disgrace."

  “You’re putting a lot of words into my mouth,” he says slowly.

  “Can you deny them?”

  He says nothing, and I disconnect the call.

  Beyond furious with my father, hating that I let him get to me, frustrated that I purposely pushed him to be even more hateful, I reach toward my ear. To remove the chip would be to deny him entirely.

  It would also mean denying the Kurians and turning my back on Kurians and Novans alike.

  I can’t do that. Not yet.

  Most likely, not ever.

  Father doesn’t know what to do with me. I’m too strong-willed for him, and Sarah at least pretends to do as he wishes. I don’t. I just do my own thing and flaunt my willfulness in his face. Of course he is going to hate that.

  But deep down. Father does love me. He might hate my actions, and I’ve given him cause to.

  I am the reason why we are at odds. I could easily do as Sarah does, or I can even placate him, but no. Instead, I fight with him for everything. I don’t take a mile when he gives me an inch. I take five miles, ten miles.

  If I were my son, I would probably have sent me away too.

  But Father had to know that I wouldn’t just allow the Earthling authorities to dictate my actions when I wouldn’t let him do that.

  Then again, Father might have been trying to get a hold of me, but if he really wanted to, he could have sent the authorities my coordinates at any time.

  He didn’t.

  Because he has been giving me a measure of freedom on Earth. He probably has done all of this as a test to see what I would do with seemingly unlimited freedom.

  A test I’m failing.

  Because that’s all I ever do when it comes to Father. I fail to live up to his expectations. Is it any surprise that he wants and demands more from me than from the others? Of course not.

  I have been a terrible son, disobedient. I’ve been a real ovian bastard.

  A part of me wants to call Father back, to apologize, but I also need to find Isabella. She needs to know who my father is. Once she and I determine what is best for her and me and for us together—or apart—then I will call Father. It is time for me to stop being a daredevil and time for me to start living the life I should have been living all along.

  I am the overlord’s son, and whether or not I will become the next overlord, I need to start doing my part to help mold the future of the Kurians.

  Quickly, I march back over to the bed, only to find it empty. Her clothes are gone. Wh
erever she is, she’s dressed.

  With a mumbled curse, I tug on my clothes. A quick, cursory inspection of the plane reveals Isabella to be gone. My heart sinks. What if we had been too intimate? What if it had been too much for her, and she’s gone and left me?

  That would be a fitting punishment for the grief I caused my father, wouldn’t it? To find love and then to lose it.

  But then my stomach rumbles. Maybe Isabella is hungry too and has gone off to get us something to eat. We devoured the last of the deer meat just yesterday.

  I leave the plane and glance around, sniffing. Her scent of lilac and vanilla draws me over to that perch high up on that pile of crap. There she sits as she had before, with her radio.

  Quickly, I climb up to join her, and I sit beside her.

  Isabella stares at me with tears.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Listen,” she murmurs.

  “Do we have an update in the case?” a man asks.

  “Not yet, Brad, but I can tell you what I do know.”

  “Please, Jenna.”

  “A woman by the name of Nina Tristin has been kidnapped. The kidnappers have not identified themselves outside of being Nina’s kidnappers, and they aren’t holding her for ransom. We don’t’ know but suspect she might be in danger.”

  “Why is that?” Brad asks.

  "Because two days ago, Nina told her family and friends that she had plans to see if she could go to Kuria, presumably because she wants to see about finding love with an alien."

  “She wants to become pregnant. “

  “Yes. One of her friends told the station, quote, ‘I want to do my part. The Novans saved us all. They’re still in danger of dying. The Kurians are the future for the peace between Novans and Earthlings. More Kurians need to be born. I’ve tried to find love on Earth and haven’t been able to. Maybe my soul mate has blue-colored skin.’ End quote.”

  “And you think that this might have caused the kidnappers to take Nina?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wait a minute, listeners. It seems our producer…”