Alien Overnight (2 page)

“I wish I had binoculars.”

“Binoculars, hell. I wish I had my camera.”

Peserin
’
s gown
! He averted his eyes with a tight smile, tucking the mental image safely away before it brought him to his knees.

“You’ll note that this male exhibits textbook erectile proportions, having a spur length of roughly one-half that of his penis,” the doctor approved. “We’re still uncertain why ejaculation can’t be manually or artificially induced, but we’ll continue to investigate all conceivable causes, including both physiological and psychological.”

I beg your pardon
? Shauss’ eyes grew wide as he stiffened.
Did he just suggest the
problem might be all in our
heads?

Stand down
,
Lieutenant
, Kellen ordered.
Terrans tend to leave no stone
,
however futile
,

unturned
.
You should be used to it by now
.

7

Robin L. Rotham

“Thank you, Ensign. Please continue.”

Needing no further encouragement, Hastion sprang forward and powered into the redhead. She let loose a throaty scream, twisting handfuls of the white hospital bedding beneath her forehead as his spur sank deep into her anal orifice, which had been carefully prepared prior to the demonstration. Or so Kellen had been told, although what it took to prepare her fell quite outside the scope of what he cared to know.

Another glance around the dimmed room told him a few of the females were looking decidedly worried now, despite their foreknowledge of the subject’s previous experience.

When her orgasmic cries threatened to completely undo him, Kellen turned his eyes to the wood-paneled wall ahead and mentally began reciting the elements of the periodic table—the complete one, not the pitifully inadequate Terran version—and their weights. He’d only gotten as far as helium when he heard the long, gurgling growl of a hungry stomach from very nearby.

His chin snapped down as he scanned the seats closest to him. When the rumbling sounded again, he zeroed in on a pair of Terran females. The tiny blonde had caught his notice earlier, simply because she insisted on looking everywhere but at the couple she was here to observe. The other one was leaning over her desk, arms wrapped across her stomach. At least he was fairly certain that one was female. He’d glimpsed her in the compound several times and wondered at her androgynous and deliberately bizarre look. The shells of her ears were lined with metal studs and rings, the opaque black of her hair, cut ruthlessly short, was obviously artificial, and her facial cosmetics appeared to have been applied with…some sort of gardening implement.

A
trowel
, that was it.

Mildly curious, he’d taken note of her, and upon hearing a colleague call her Dr.

Gothchild, he’d looked up the name, only to find there was no such person listed on the compound’s roster. A chance discussion among his men had enlightened him about the Goth subculture, thus explaining her appearance, and he’d promptly dismissed the odd female from his mind.

That might have been a mistake.

Her companion gaped in astonishment as the Goth female’s stomach gurgled again.

Commander
,
are you hearing what I
’
m hearing
?

Shauss’ sharp gaze caught his.

“Jeez, Teague—try eating breakfast next time,” one of the males leaned over and whispered.

“Had breakfast.” The reply from the bent head was groggy, sounding urgent alarms in Kellen’s head.

“Monica, are you okay?” asked her blonde friend.

In reply, the hunched-over Monica slurred, “Oh God, Shel, what are they cooking for lunch? It smells absolutely divine!”

8

Alien Overnight

Kellen’s thoughts raced. Androgynous appearance, hunger response, olfactory excitement—

“Holy shit, are you drunk?” the male hissed.

And apparent intoxication in a room bursting with Garathani male pheromones…

Could she possibly be a Sparnite?

Kellen linked with the cerecom server.

Empran
,
research Monica Teague
,
current assignment Beaumont
–
Thayer Compound
, he requested, his link with Shauss still open.

The computer replied almost instantly.

*Beaumont
–
Thayer file incomplete
.
Searching alternate sources
.
*
Three seconds later, Empran continued,
*Dr
.
Monica Sessienne Teague
,
female
,
aged thirty
-
two Terran years
.

Medical specialty
,
perinatology
.
Contracted for ten
-
year service on Garathan
.
*

Spell Sessienne
.

His eyes narrowed as Empran complied. The name was too close for coincidence, and she was thirty-two, the perfect age…

Known developmental anomalies
?

*Searching
.
Conflicting data
,
Commander
.
Only one of seven available pediatric charts cites
incomplete development of reproductive organs
.
One gynecological examination at age fifteen
,

terminated prematurely for reasons unknown
,
notes delayed development of secondary sexual
characteristics
.
Beaumont
–
Thayer intake documents indicate sterility attributed to anovulation
,

no determination of pathology
.
*

With his heartbeat thrumming in his ears, Kellen ordered,
Empran
,
file an instant
petition with the High Council on my behalf to claim full
-
spectrum mating privileges with Dr
.

Monica Teague
,
tentatively identified as a GaraTer hybrid
.
Request mass notification
immediately upon approval
,
withholding the female
’
s middle name
,
and restrict access to the
petition
.

Shauss’ eyes widened but he didn’t comment.

*Secondary claimant
?
*
Empran inquired.

Lieutenant Shauss
.

I think I love you
,
Sir
. Shauss grinned at him.

Kellen frowned.
Save it for the Sparnite
.

*Tertiary claimant
?
*

Reserve
.

The next eighty-four seconds were the longest of his life. He and Shauss both stared at the female with an intensity that would probably have frightened her, had she raised her head and noticed them. The demonstration on stage was all but forgotten by the two officers as they watched her rock forward and back in her seat, taking deep breaths of the air so heavily saturated with their pheromones.

9

Robin L. Rotham

*Petition filed
,
Council audience waived
,
unilateral approval by Minister Cecine
.
Mass
notification pending
.
*

At Empran’s words, anticipation like he hadn’t known in years hammered through Kellen and the smile that curved his lips must have been predatory indeed, because Shauss urged,
Careful
,
Commander
.
It could be months
,
even years before she matures enough
for mating
. Then he had to go and add,
If she even survives
.

Kellen grimaced. It was nothing less than the truth—her death was not beyond the realm of possibility. Only a handful of Garathani females, fewer than two dozen in all of their recorded history, had ever experienced Sparna’s Delay, and of those, six had not survived the violent maturation that commenced once they were exposed to male pheromones. There was no predicting what effect her Terran genes might have on the process. It seemed the odd but now infinitely precious Dr. Teague was about to make the history books on Garathan.

Unfortunately, he doubted she was going to enjoy the experience.

*Critical notification
,
*
Empran announced over the cerecom system to every Garathani within range. Even Hastion paused mid-thrust to listen.
*Effective immediately
,

Commander Kellen
,
third son Aizery
,
first house Menina
,
is awarded full
-
spectrum mating
privileges with the GaraTer hybrid known as Dr
.
Monica Teague
,
current domicile Beaumont
–

Thayer Compound
,
Montana
,
United States
,
Planet Earth
.
The commander is seconded by
Lieutenant Shauss
,
first son Frantere
,
third house Andagon
,
allegiance transfer pending
.

Tertiary claimant is in reserve
.
This award and all information related to it are classified under
the seal of the Garathani High Council as authorized by Minister Cecine
.
*

Well
,
that bites
, Hastion grimaced humorously over his shoulder as he resumed pounding his partner into erotic oblivion.
Here I am
,
taking one for the team
—

And we all feel
so
sorry for you
, Shauss drawled.

While you two are busy snapping up one of the missing hybrids right
—
behind
—
my
—
back
!

Hastion exploded into the woman with a roar that provoked paper-shuffling and throat-clearing from one end of the classroom to the other.

Kellen just smiled.

*

“Cripes, Monica,” Shelley muttered as the lights went up and doctors and nurses began shuffling out around them. “You picked a hell of a time to come in three sheets to the wind.”

“I square to God, I haven’t had a drop!” Monica leaned back in her seat, blinking at the sudden brightness.

“You
square
, huh?”

“Nice,” Sean snorted. “You’d better pull your head out of your ass before Snow pulls the plug on your contract.”

“Get lost, McKay,” Shelley fired back. “I’ll take care of Monica.”

10

Alien Overnight

Monica sighed, her bleary eyes following the slightly squishy-looking butt of Dr.

Sean McKay as he sauntered to the door. “God, Shel, I love you so much! Thank you for saving me from that creepin’ cretin.”

She giggled at her own creativity, giggled even louder when Shelley rolled her eyes.

“What is with you? Are you diabetic or something? Is your blood sugar bottoming out?”

“I don’ know, but I’m absolutely staaaarving!” Monica bellowed, mystified yet pleased by the sensations that speaking so loudly sparked in her lower belly. “Take me to the catef-cafeteria and get me some o’ whatever they’re dishin’ up today, ‘cause, by God, it smells good enough to eat for a change!”

“Shhh!” Shelley looked around wildly before leaning over the side of her desk and muttering, “Sean wasn’t kidding when he said Snow would have your butt in a sling if he thought you were drunk.”

“Shhh-Sean, Shelley, Shnow. Shhh-Sean, Shelley, Shnow,” Monica sang. “It’s like a lil’ tittie-twister, isn’t it?”

“That’s tongue-twister, you idiot! Now shut the fuck up before Dr. Snow comes over here!”

“May I be of assistance, ladies?”

Shelley’s squeal of alarm made Monica laugh out loud. Then she caught sight of a bulging crotch covered in sublimely tight steel-gray synthetic and fell silent mid-guffaw. Her eyes traveled up, up, up, skimming over a granite belly, pecs that were sharply defined even in uniform and shoulders too wide to be real. She got hooked for a second on a set of sculpted lips and had to drag her eyes upward until they finally met the dark blue gaze of the formidable Commander Kellen.

Speaking of good enough to eat! The super-sized hot tamale looking down at her made half the female tongues in the compound drag the ground, and a few of the male ones, too. But not hers, though. Nuh-uh, no way, because God, he was so
fucking
far out of her orbit, he’d need the Hubble telescope to notice her. She’d be dumber than a bag of hammers to get all gooey over his lion-haired splendor.

“Ooooh, hi, Commander,” she heard herself breathe anyway. God, when had she started talking like Marilyn Monroe? “Are you a gentle giant?”

Then she smacked herself on the forehead.
Duh
! Of course, he wasn’t any such thing. He’d blasted Planet Narthan into a flaming charcoal briquette and roasted wienies over the smoldering embers. But what the hell. Nobody was perfect, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have cause, losing his wife and little girl that way.

Aw
,
the poor guy could probably use a hug
.

The quirk of his lips as he crouched in front of her desk was inviting enough to make her breath catch in her throat. Okay, scratch the poor guy thing. And the hug. He was a hottie and he knew it, Conan the Barbarian with a James Bond accent. “When the occasion calls for it.”

11

Robin L. Rotham

“And when it doesn’t?” she dared. Shit, it almost sounded like she was flirting with him.
Flirting
with Kellen, the ass-kicking commander from outer space. And from Shelley’s fish-eyed look, it sounded that way to her, too.

And hell if it wasn’t giving Monica her first-ever tingle in panty territory. Okay, second-ever. Watching that other sweaty spaceman push his long hard self into Carrie’s open charms had triggered the first-ever. Maybe this was only the beginning of a major tingle-fest south of her border. Wouldn’t that be, like, the fucking greatest thing ever?

She’d always secretly dreamed of tingling, especially whenever she passed the commander in the hall. He was hot enough to—

No
! Monica tossed her spiky head back and forth, trying not to pout. Damn it, it just wasn’t fair! She could flirt with the commander ‘til the cows came home, but in the end, it would get her nowhere. Ever. Even if, in some freaky right turn into an alternate reality, she managed to catch this hunky alien’s eye, the joke would be on the both of them, because the only two things he’d want from her, she had no way of supplying.