Aliens Love Curves

Chapter 5 - Casey

T he morning sun streams through the vast windows of our apartment, painting the room in hues of gold and lavender. I stretch, my body still adjusting to the slightly lower gravity of the floating complex. In front of me, Stryker is already up, bending down touching his toes, his pink skin glistening as he goes through a series of stretches. It’s an impressive sight and my pussy quivers.

He looks up from his stretches, his silver eyes meeting mine, and I swear he just caught my eyes greedily drinking in the rippling muscles of his shirtless torso. "Ready for the grand tour, sweetheart?"

I nod, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach at his use of the endearment, even though I know it’s just part of the role-playing. "Born ready, darling." I wink and the corner of his mouth hitches. The side-smile does something to my insides...and the apex of my legs. I throw the cover back and rush for the bathroom. scared of the pulsating feeling coming from my pussy, and what it might make me do.

AN HOUR LATER, WE'RE following Lyra through the gleaming corridors of Quickening Gliders' main facility. Every turn reveals some new marvel of technology that makes my inner gear-head squeal with delight.

"This is our primary research and development lab," Lyra explains, gesturing to a vast room filled with holographic displays and partially assembled gliders. "Here's where we develop and test our latest innovations."

I can't help but gasp as I spot a sleek, arrow-shaped glider suspended in a zero-gravity field. "Is that the new Starstreaker model?" I ask, unable to contain my excitement.

Lyra smiles, clearly pleased by my enthusiasm. "Indeed it is. You've got a good eye, Casey."

"More than a good eye," a deep, melodious voice chimes in. "I'd say we have a true aficionado in our midst."

I turn to see a tall, impossibly handsome Equanox man striding towards us. His skin is a deep, shimmering cerise-pink that seems to catch and reflect the light. But it's his eyes that capture me – a swirling mix of gold and green that seem to see right through me.

"Harlan Mertok," he introduces himself, extending a hand. "CEO of Quickening Gliders, and personally invested in every aspect of our operation."

I take his hand, feeling a jolt of electricity at the contact. "Casey Peace," I manage to say. "And this is my manager, Stryker."

Stryker’s chest puffs out. “Her partner,” he adds quickly.

Harlan's eyes flick briefly to Stryker before returning to me, his gaze intense. "Casey Peace," he repeats, as if savouring my name. "I've enquired about you, and I’ve heard remarkable things about your piloting skills in the underground race circuit. I look forward to seeing them in action."

I feel Stryker’s gaze burning into my profile. A flush creeps up my cheeks. "Thank you, sir. I hope I can live up to the hype."

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Harlan says with a smile that makes my heart skip a beat. "And please, call me Harlan."

As we continue the tour, I can't help but notice how Harlan seems to position himself near me at every opportunity, making sure he’s in-between Stryker and myself. His questions are insightful, his knowledge of glider technology impressive. I find myself drawn into deep discussions about thrust ratios and stabilizer configurations, barely noticing as Stryker grows increasingly quiet on the other side of Harlan.

The tour concludes at the instruction hangars, where we'll be spending most of our time. "You'll start with beginner classes tomorrow," Lyra explains. "But today, we'd like you to familiarize yourselves with our training gliders and simulation programs."

"Excellent idea," Harlan chimes in. "In fact, why don't I oversee your first session personally? It's not often I get the chance to work with such promising new talent."

I beam at the compliment, but a small sound from Stryker catches my attention. I glance over to see his jaw clenched, his posture rigid. Is he... jealous ?

Before I can ponder this further, I’m handed a suit by Lyra and prompted to begin suiting up for a test flight, while Stryker is ushered towards a control room by Harlan.

The training glider is a dream to handle, responding to my every touch with precision and grace. As I put it through its paces, I can hear Harlan's voice over the comm, his praise spurring me to even greater feats of aerial acrobatics as I manoeuvrer in-between the hovering platforms of Quickening Gliders complex.

When I finally land, I'm greeted by applause from a small crowd that's gathered to watch. Harlan approaches, his eyes shining with admiration. "Magnificent," he says. "Truly spectacular. I think we've found our new star instructor."

I bask in the praise, feeling on top of the world. But as my eyes seek out Stryker, I'm surprised to see him frowning, his tail swishing in agitation.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of simulations and orientations. Throughout it all, I can't help but notice the stark contrast between Stryker and me. Where I shine in the practical aspects, he struggles putting across his extensive theoretical knowledge, his voice and the natural command he held at the academy not quite translating to the unique Quickening Gliders systems.

As evening approaches, Lyra leads us on one final tour of the administrative areas. It's here that I start to notice...oddities. Doors that seem unnecessarily reinforced. Security cameras that track our movements a little too precisely. And at one point, I swear I see a section of wall shimmer, as if concealing something behind it.

I exchange a glance with Stryker, seeing my suspicions mirrored in his eyes. There's definitely more going on here than meets the eye.

Finally, we're left alone in our apartment. As soon as the door closes, I turn to Stryker, eager to discuss our observations. But before I can speak, he rounds on me, his expression thunderous.

"What the hell was that today?" he demands, his voice low and intense.

I blink, taken aback. "What was what?"

"Your little show for Harlan Mertok ," Stryker spits out the name like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "You were supposed to be gathering information, not auditioning for the glider hall of fame!"

I feel a surge of anger and hurt. "I was doing my job." I retort. "Getting close to the CEO, impressing him so he'll trust us. Isn't that the whole point of this mission?"

Stryker's tail lashes back and forth, a sure sign of his agitation. "The point is to investigate, not to get starry-eyed over the first charming executive who bats his eyes at you!"

"Starry-eyed?" I repeat, incredulous. "Is that what you think this is? I'm not some naive rookie flyer, Stryker. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" he challenges. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're letting your ego and your... your hormones cloud your judgment."

His words hit me like a physical blow. I take a step back, hurt and anger warring inside me. "How dare you," I say, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "I thought I did a good job today. I thought I was making progress on our mission. But apparently, all you saw was a silly girl showing off."

Stryker's expression flickers, a hint of regret crossing his features. But I'm too upset to care.

"For your information," I continue, my voice rising, "while I was showing off , I was also observing. Did you notice the hidden security measures? The reinforced doors? The way certain areas seemed off-limits even to Lyra? Or were you too busy being jealous to pay attention?"

Stryker's eyes widen, and I know I've struck a nerve. "I'm not jealous," he protests, but there's a lack of conviction in his voice.

"Sure you're not," I say bitterly. "Well, don't worry. I'll try to rein in my hormones from now on. Wouldn't want to compromise the mission with my feminine wiles."

I turn away, not wanting him to see the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. "I'm going to bed. We have an early start tomorrow, partner. "

As I storm off to the bathroom, I hear Stryker call out, "Casey, wait—" But I shut the door firmly behind me, cutting off his words.

Alone in the bathroom, I finally let the tears fall. How could he think so little of me? After everything we've been through, does he really see me as nothing more than a liability?

My back slides down the door and I pull my knees into my body resting my face against them, my mind racing. The wonders of Quickening Gliders, the thrill of flying again, Harlan's admiring gaze, Stryker's angry words – it all swirls together in a confusing mess.

One thing's for certain – this mission just got a whole lot more complicated. And not just because of what we might uncover about Quickening Gliders. The real danger, I'm starting to realize, might be a lot closer to home.

Placing my ear against the door, I listen for movement. Content Stryker is asleep on the couch, I exit the bathroom. My breath catches in my throat when he’s standing on the other side of the door when I open it.

Pushing past him I head for the nightstand where I stored my toiletry bag and nightclothes.

“I need to shower.” Stryker’s voice is a mask of unspoken emotions, and my stomach knots.

I don’t look back. “I haven’t finished in there yet, I need to—”

He cuts me off mid-sentence. “I won’t be long.” My anger instantly surfaces and I swing around to have it out with him, but the door slams shut and I’m left open-mouthed. Storming over to the nightstand, I yank out my nightclothes while trying to calm myself.

When I’m done, I sit down onto a bed which is far too big for me whilst glaring at the place where Stryker will be sleeping tonight—the couch. It’s way too small for his humungous bulk. I feel a twinge of guilt.

Grabbing a pillow, I decide to make the couch as comfortable as possible for him—a peace offering, considering he won’t accept the bed.

Moments later, I’m caught off guard when I hear Stryker emerge from the bathroom. I spin around and my nipples instantly harden at the sight before me. Stryker’s torso is bare and wet, a small towel hangs loosely around his hips revealing the size and shape of his enormous cock. I gulp.