Aliens Love Curves

Chapter 6 - Stryker

T he tension from our argument still hangs heavy in the air as I exit the bathroom, running a hand through my damp hair. Casey has been quiet since our heated exchange, and I'm not sure how to bridge the gap between us.

The first thing I see as she spins to face me, are the erect buds topping her ample feminine charms which have driven me to distraction for the last few months. I immediately avert my eyes and inhale deeply, trying to concentrate my efforts on anything but her curves. As I move towards the living area, I notice she's made up the couch for me, draping a soft cover over it and placing a plump pillow at one end.

"Thanks," I murmur, genuinely touched by the gesture despite our disagreement.

Casey nods, not quite meeting my eyes. "No problem. The couch looks a bit...firm, and you looked uncomfortable last night."

Still averting my eyes from her, I settle onto the makeshift bed, trying to find a comfortable position. The couch is indeed firm, but it's not that which is keeping me from relaxing. My mind is still replaying our argument and Casey's hurt expression from earlier is still seared into my memory. I need to apologize, to explain myself, but the words seem to stick in my throat.

"I'm going to get ready for bed," Casey says softly, breaking the silence. She disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the sound of running water.

I close my eyes, trying to calm my racing thoughts. But instead of relaxation, I find myself acutely aware of Casey's presence in the other room. The rustle of fabric, the soft padding of her feet on the tile floor – each sound seems magnified in the quiet apartment.

The bathroom door opens, and despite my best intentions, I can't help but open my eyes. What I see makes my breath catch in my throat.

Casey emerges, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. She's wearing a satin nightdress that clings to every curve of her body, the material shimmering with each movement. The hem falls mid-thigh, revealing long, shapely legs. The neckline, while not overtly revealing, hints at the swell of her breasts.

I realize I'm staring and quickly avert my gaze, but not before Casey notices. A faint blush colours her cheeks, and she tugs self-consciously at the hem of her nightdress.

"I, uh, I didn't pack anything else," she explains, her voice a mix of embarrassment and defiance. "I didn't think..."

"It's fine," I manage to croak out, my own voice sounding strange to my ears. "You look... I mean, it's... Goodnight, Casey."

She pauses for a moment, as if wanting to say something more. But then she simply nods. "Goodnight, Stryker."

I watch as she climbs into bed, the satin material riding up slightly as she moves. I quickly shut my eyes, but it's too late. The image of Casey in that nightdress is burned into my mind.

I hear her shift in the bed, the rustle of sheets as she gets comfortable. The room falls silent, but sleep feels impossibly far away. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is Casey – the curve of her hips, the length of her legs, the way the satin clung to her body.

I roll onto my side, facing the back of the couch, trying to think of anything else but her... Our mission. The strange security measures we noticed today. The potential dangers ahead. But my traitorous mind keeps circling back to Casey.

This is going to be a long night.

In the quiet darkness, I hear Casey's breathing even out as she drifts off to sleep. I envy her ability to find rest so easily. For me, sleep remains elusive, my body hyper-aware of her presence just a few feet away.

I sigh softly, resigning myself to a sleepless night. As I lie there, staring at the back of the couch, I can't help but reflect on the complexities of our situation. We're here on a mission, tasked with uncovering potentially dangerous secrets. We need to be focused, professional, in sync with each other.

And yet...

And yet, I can't deny the pull I feel towards Casey. It's more than just physical attraction, though tonight has certainly highlighted that aspect. It's her spirit, her determination, her skill. Even when she infuriates me – like today with Harlan – I can't help but admire her.

I realize, with a start, that my anger earlier wasn't just about the mission. Casey was right. It was jealousy, plain and simple. Seeing the way Harlan looked at her, the way she responded to his praise... it had ignited something in me that I'm not sure I'm ready to confront.

As the night wears on, I make a silent promise to myself. Tomorrow, I'll apologize to Casey. I'll explain my concerns about the mission, about Harlan, without letting my personal feelings cloud the issue. We need to be a team, now more than ever.

With that resolution made, I finally feel myself starting to drift off. But even as sleep claims me, one last image flashes behind my eyelids: Casey, bathed in moonlight, a vision in satin. My tail swishes slowly, stretching out for the female of my desires. I reach behind and grab it roughly. Dragging it over my hip and up to my chest where I hold onto it tightly, imagining it’s Casey I’m hugging.

It's going to be an interesting mission, indeed.