Alien Overnight (13 page)

It was the most incredibly erotic sight he’d ever hoped to see, and he prayed to the Powers that he could get out of this bay with his honor intact. The primitive urge to claim his mate, to sip at the fount of her passion himself and then drive his tortured flesh into her weeping, untried wells, was quickly becoming more than he could resist.

The very last gossamer-fine thread of his control was about to snap.

*

Kellen hadn’t kissed her.

The realization still rankled twenty-eight hours later.

Monica stood before the mirror—excuse me,
flare field
—and glared at the new girl in town. Talk about bed head! She’d brushed the tangled mass for ten minutes straight, ‘til the bristles went through without a snag and her chalky split ends swirled around her shoulders, and she still looked like she’d out-snoozed Rip van Winkle by at least a decade. Hell, forget bed head—she just looked flat-out bizarre. Kind of like a giraffe. A giant fucking Chia Pet giraffe, with two overripe grapefruits strapped to its chest.

Directly under its chin. And damn it, all the holes in her ears had closed, too. And her teeth were furry! Her fucking teeth were furry, and she’d played
you swab my tonsils and
I
’
ll swab yours
with Shauss.

The thought made her flinch as she squeezed a thick line of blue gel onto her toothbrush.
He
’
d
kissed her, all right, and weak-willed wimp that she was, she’d tried to suck the taste buds right off his tongue, which would no doubt have been a relief for him, considering her total break with oral hygiene. He probably deserved it for being such a conceited ass, but it still bothered her to have inflicted her mothball breath and sloughed-off epithelial cells on him.

Kellen hadn’t even given her a chance to inflict them on him, and it was just plain stupid how much that hurt.

She passed her toothbrush once, twice, under the faucet Ketrok had pointed out earlier. She’d never have found the thing for herself, it was so odd-looking. And that toilet… Now there was a piece of engineering Earth’s manufacturers could take a lot of cues from. She’d used it standing up, like a urinal, only facing away from the wall. The elongated basin was narrow enough in the middle to slide between a woman’s thighs and automatically raised and lowered according to each user’s needs.

But that was about the only thing she’d found to like around here. She jammed the brush into her mouth and scrubbed harshly. It was going to bug the living shit out of her that Shauss had kissed her first. If anyone should have gotten get her first kiss, it was Kellen. Not that he was anything special. Just his name, Kellen, and that weird 67

Robin L. Rotham

niggling feeling that all this was somehow meant to be. But apparently he hadn’t deemed her worthy of kissing. Worthy of a big, nasty hickey, yes. But not a single kiss.

Monica shook her head, brushing off the pain as she hid the stark purple blotch behind the fall of her hair.

And as for what else Shauss had done first…

She spat in the sink and rinsed, her mind shying away from the memory of her utter and complete meltdown. Grudgingly, Monica admitted to herself that she’d probably owed him that first kiss, and maybe a few more, for operating on his abdomen without anesthesia, much less informed written consent. Hell, it would be a miracle if she kept her medical license, assuming she ever set foot on terra firma again. But the penalty he’d exacted,
they
’
d
exacted…

She slammed the door on those thoughts and concentrated on trying to tug her scrubs top down low enough to cover her sunken bellybutton. It wasn’t working. All the clothes Ketrok had brought her from the surface were about four inches too short, tops and bottoms. And forget about her shoes—she’d count herself lucky if she still fit into a women’s size. She was six-foot-three now. Six-foot-freakin’-three! And who knew if she was done growing? God, was Shelley ever in for a major shock. Monica had always topped her by a few inches, but now the difference was over a foot. Meet the new Mutt and Jeff…

And she’d thought finding a date was impossible before.

A date. She touched her lips with her fingertips. If Kellen had his way, she’d never go on a date, at least not with anyone but him or Shauss.

“Who do you belong to, Monica?” he’d demanded after he and Shauss turned her inside out with their hands. And their talented, hungry mouths…
Don
’
t even go there
.

Exhausted and nerveless, she’d tried to shake him off, but he’d held her face to his and insisted, “Say it, Monica. You belong to us.”

“All right,” she’d snapped weakly. “I belong to you, you arrogant prick!”

“Say, ‘I belong to Kellen and Shauss,’” he’d come back forcefully. “And leave off the insults or suffer the consequences.”

Already overwhelmed and excruciatingly aware of Shauss’ mocking presence, she’d gulped down her pride and muttered, “I belong to Kellen and Shauss.” And said the
you prick
part silently. And he’d seen it in her eyes and grinned. The prick.

So here she was, subjugated by her two alien lovers.

Not
!

Monica shook her head ‘til it rattled. No fucking way had she worked so hard, come so far, to spend the rest of her life playing sex slave for two swaggering comet jockeys. They’d just see who belonged to whom.

Satisfied that she was lean, mean and ready to rip doors from their hinges with her sparkling bare teeth, she struck out for the ship’s command center.

68

Alien Overnight

And ran face first into the infirmary door.

Shit
! Hadn’t Kellen and Ketrok, and even Shelley, simply walked up and let the silvery pocket door open spontaneously, like on the
Enterprise
, only without the
shhhp
sound effect?

“Now what?” She eyed its smooth, knob-free surface with loathing. Then

something Kellen had said clicked in her head. “Empran, whoever you are, would you mind opening this door?”

“Egress not authorized,” the same voice she’d heard earlier informed her.

“The hell you say!” Monica bristled. “What does a girl have to do to get authorization?”

“Egress requires the authorization of Commander Kellen.”

Rolling her eyes, she barked, “Fine, then put me through to the commander.”

“Unable to comply.”

Monica was just winding up to let Computer Bitch have it when the door slid open and suddenly Shauss stood less than a foot away, his dark eyes heavy-lidded, lips curled in a provocative smile. Her pulse shifted into overdrive and she backed up two quick steps without thinking.

“Going somewhere?” he inquired, advancing on her. She’d barely had time to make a quick assessment of the open door and her chances of making it around him when it closed behind him. Damn it!

His hand shot out and grabbed the nape of her neck, yanking her to him before her struggles could even begin.

“Did you miss me?” he murmured into the hair at her ear as his other hand slid down and got a firm hold on her ass, pulling her upward and anchoring her against him.

“Like hell!” All her pushing and fighting did was make her breathless and dizzy, but she just couldn’t give in. Oh God, he had a hard-on and was grinding it into her with surgical precision. If she didn’t get away soon, she might prove herself a disgrace to womankind by coming from his manhandling alone.

“I missed you like hell too, angel.” His breathing grew louder as he rubbed his chin in her hair. “I’ve barely slept at all for remembering the sweet tang of you on my tongue.” Weakness seized her and she dropped her forehead against his throat with a low groan. “If I’m never allowed to do more than sup from the delectable spread of your thighs, I’ll die a happy man.”

69

Robin L. Rotham

“What are you, a fucking poet?” she moaned. “Just shut up!”

He laughed and hugged her tighter. “A poet, maybe. The fucking awaits Ketrok’s sanction.”

“Arrogant prick,” she said without heat. He was getting to her again, she realized, sucking in his edible fragrance with frustrated resignation.

“Be nice and I’ll take you to your surprise,” he promised with a delicate nibble at her earlobe. Ah, God…that felt too good!

“What surprise?”

“My kiss first.”

She managed to pull her head back far enough to glare at him. “You can kiss my ass!”

“Even better,” he agreed at once, arching one brow in exaggerated surprise.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake…” she muttered. Grabbing his head, she strained upward and slammed her closed lips against his. He opened at once, cupping the base of her skull in his fingers and tilting her until he could push into her mouth with his questing tongue.

Her own fingers twitched in the silken fall of his hair, and she was a goner. She raked through the endless mass, shivering at the cool slickness trickling over the backs of her hands. His tongue was a restless marauder, velvety and supple as it swirled in her mouth, drawing on hers with the skill of a snake charmer.

“No,” she cried helplessly when he pulled away. Then she flushed with

mortification at the self-satisfied smile on his face. “You got your kiss, you arrogant prick,” she growled. “Now let me out of here before I kick your ass.”

*

As if the mossy biologic pad under her bare feet weren’t disconcerting enough, it didn’t take Monica long to notice that every Garathani they passed in the corridors stopped dead in his tracks and all but panted after her. And here she’d started thinking that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t feel like such a sideshow freak anymore. After about the fortieth glazed stare, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“What in the hell is everyone’s problem?” she demanded, keeping her arms crossed over her ribs and her shoulders hunched low. Every single one of the fucking losers was looking at her chest. “Jesus, do you have a trench coat or something? I feel like I’m having that ‘Oh my God, I’m at school in my underwear!’ dream.”

“You’re imagining things,” Shauss dismissed without so much as slowing down.

Doing a slow burn, Monica fell a step behind and flipped him off.

“Here? Now?” he invited over his shoulder.

“What, do you have eyes in the back of your head, too?” she grumbled, determined to stay behind him. Then it dawned on her that they’d all stopped looking at her.

Seriously. Not only were they not staring, they were deliberately averting their gazes as she passed.

70

Alien Overnight

These people were really beginning to creep her out.

*

Kellen studied Monica as she stalked into his private dining area behind Shauss, reassured that she was none the worse for wear. The transformation in her this morning was nothing short of astounding. Her eyes were sharp, her lips pouty and moist and her skin was finally losing some of its ghostly translucence. In point of fact, she looked primed for a fight.

His cock twitched boldly at the thought.
Later
, he promised himself.

She stopped beside the table, arms akimbo, and frowned at him. “If you’re my surprise, I’m kicking the lieutenant’s ass all the way back to the infirmary.”

Kellen shook his head with a secretive smile.

“You’re looking rested,” he said, delighted when she pinkened. Despite Ketrok’s attempts to rouse her for meals, she’d slept the clock around twice after her sensual disciplining and certainly looked better for it. “I trust you enjoyed your breakfast.”

Flopping into the seat next to his, she grimaced. “Actually, it was kind of weird.

Like a burger and fries from the Chinese buffet, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

Eyes rolling, she ordered, “Just give me what you guys eat next time, okay? Either that or let me cook my own eggs.”

“As you wish,” he agreed neutrally, though he was quite pleased. Monica had been one of the few Terrans at Beaumont–Thayer adventurous enough sample Garathani cuisine, and the only one to actually enjoy a few of the dishes.
Coptier
,
cancel the
cheeseburger and French fries
.
The doctor will be sharing our meal
.

Very well
,
Commander
, came the long-suffering reply from the galley.

“So, what are we doing here? Is it lunchtime already? What’s my so-called surprise?” she asked with a pointed look at Shauss, who’d settled in the seat across from hers.

“Isn’t luncheon with the commander of the
Heptoral
surprise enough?”

Monica glanced at Kellen. “Was he dropped on his head as a little lieutenant, or was he born this way?”

“He’s a freak of nature, I’m afraid.”

“Freak is right,” she snorted.

“Wait ‘til you see me naked.” Shauss grinned rakishly. “And you can sneer all you want, my bloodthirsty little Sparnite, but the burst of pheromones you just emitted tells me—”

“Save it for the mating chamber,” Kellen interrupted when it looked like Monica was about to resort to violence. “Both of you.”

71

Robin L. Rotham

*

“So, are we ever going to get to my surprise?” she wondered aloud after she’d sucked the last succulent bit of meat off an Adorana sea quill and dropped the delicate fanned bone into the pile on her plate.
Ah
,
full at last
.

Though she’d managed to do it justice, the sight of their meal had initially made her blanch. The table had practically groaned under the weight of the exotic repast, a dozen or more offerings presented on two large round metal trays, without the benefit of serving dishes. Everything was plopped in unappetizing piles, their individual juices running together to create an alarming moat of—
sludge
was what came to mind—

around the edge of each tray. The diners were given smaller metal plates, heavy red mugs of Malascan ale and glasses of water, which, in the absence of cutlery, Monica planned to use as a finger bath. For all she knew, that was what it was for anyway.

She’d raised her brows when the steward slapped three mounds of dark bread—