Aliens Love Curves

Chapter 9 - Casey

“ G ood morning sleepy head.”

I open my eyes and look up into the face of the alien man who haunted all of my dreams last night. Damn he looks hot today. He’s already showered and dressed, and either his trainer suit is somehow shrinking, or his muscles are growing.

“Good morning.” Why am I having a vision of wrapping my arms around his thick neck and pulling his face to face?

“Shall we make plans over breakfast?” The quirk of his one brow does things to my insides—especially my pussy. I nod and watch his eyes fight to look anywhere else but the top of my satin nightdress, which is peaking out of the cover, trying its best to keep a reign of my runaway boobs. “I’ll-I’ll meet you there...give you some privacy to get dressed.”

I barely open my mouth to reply and he’s already heading out of the door. I’m left with his masculine alien scent and an urge to slip my fingers between my legs.

Groaning, I resist the urge and haul myself out of bed, rubbing away the sleep from my eyes with a frustrated sigh.

MORNING SUNLIGHT STREAMS through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the campus dining hall, casting rainbow prisms across the polished surfaces. I'm lost in thought about yesterday's confrontation and the weird make-up we’d had when Stryker appears beside my chair, pulling it out with a gallant gesture.

"Thanks," I murmur, hyper-aware of his proximity as he settles into the seat across from me. His tail curls contentedly as the server brings us steaming cups of Ovan caf.

"Sleep well?" he asks, his silver eyes catching mine over the rim of his cup.

"Better than you, I imagine. That couch can't be comfortable."

His lips quirk in a half-smile that makes my stomach flutter. "I've had worse."

The morning light plays across his pink skin, highlighting the strong planes of his face. I catch myself staring and quickly look down at my plate.

"I need to tell you something," I say, pushing my breakfast around with my fork. "Harlan messaged me last night. There's a shareholders' ball this week."

Stryker's tail twitches – a tell I'm learning to read. "And?"

"He wants to present me to them. To convince them to let me race the prototype." I lean forward, lowering my voice. "This could be our chance. If they choose me as their pilot, I'll have access to restricted areas, behind-the-scenes operations—"

"And significantly higher risk of injury or death if something goes wrong," Stryker cuts in, his voice tight.

My feathers bristle. “I thought we established yesterday that me having this opportunity is the best way to find out what the hell is going on here.”

Stryker sighs and nods. “I know I know, but it doesn’t mean I like it non-the-less.”

Before I can respond, movement catches my eye. Lyra approaches our table, another employee in tow.

"Mind if we join you?" She doesn't wait for an answer before settling at the adjacent table. "Lovely morning, isn't it?"

We make polite conversation, but I can feel the weight of unspoken words between Stryker and me. His knee brushes mine under the table, sending sparks through my body.

"We should go for a walk," he says suddenly. "Clear our heads before training starts.”

I catch his meaning immediately. "I’d like to take a look at the botanical gardens. I overheard one of the other training teams mention them.”

Lyra nods enthusiastically. “Yes, they are lovely this time of day. Plus, the only way to reach them is with a glider. Using one before training begins will get you warmed up for the day."

Stryker nods once at Lyra and rises. “Great idea.” I follow suit.

We make our excuses and head to the glider rental station. The gardens float on a separate platform, accessible only by air – perfect for private conversation.

Stryker approaches the rental counter, but I grab his arm. "Let's take one glider," I say impulsively. "Save energy resources." Really, I want to take the opportunity to get even closer to him, his alien cologne is driving me crazy today.

Stryker gestures for me to climb up front and claim the handlebars, I shake my head with a smile and sit in the pillion seat. He raises an eyebrow but doesn't object. Minutes later, we're atop a sleek two-seater, my chest is pressed against Stryker’s enormous back as he takes the controls.

"Relax," I tell him, feeling the tension in his body. "Have some fun with it."

To my surprise, he chuckles. The sound vibrates through me, making my pulse quicken. He looks back over his shoulder and winks at me. "Fun, huh? Hold on tight, Cop."

We shoot into the sky, the acceleration making me wrap my arms tightly around his waist. Stryker handles the glider with unexpected playfulness, executing barrel rolls and steep climbs that have me laughing with delight.

"Show off!" I accuse, breathless.

"Look who's talking," he retorts, but there's warmth in his voice.

The botanical gardens appear ahead, a crystal dome floating serenely in the lavender sky. Flowering vines drape over its surface, creating a luminescent canopy. We park the glider and dismount, both of us still have the ghost of the smiles his playful riding skills just gave us on our lips as we head for the entrance.

Inside, the air is thick with the scent of exotic blooms. Winding paths lead through lush vegetation, offering countless private nooks and secluded benches. I don’t know if it’s too early, but there isn’t another soul around but us. We find a quiet spot near a cascading water feature, its gentle music providing cover for conversation.

I lick my lips, trying to wash away the last trace of fun we just shared, it’s time to get down to business. "About the ball," I begin, but I'm distracted by how the filtered light plays across Stryker's features. Have his eyes always been so intense? Has his tail always moved with such hypnotic grace?

"Casey?" His voice is soft, concerned.

"Sorry, I just..." I shake my head, trying to focus. "If I can convince the shareholders—"

"You could get yourself killed," he interrupts, shifting closer. "These people, whatever they're involved in... it's dangerous. I think I should get in touch with Zara...tell her there’s definitely something going on but it’s too dangerous to proceed undercover. "

"Life is dangerous," I counter, tilting my face up to his. "You can't protect me from everything."

"No," he agrees, his voice rough. "But I can try."

The air between us feels charged, electric. A bead of moisture from the waterfall lands on his shoulder, and I watch, mesmerized, as it trails down his pink skin.

What happens next feels both inevitable and shocking. Stryker's hands cup my face, and then his mouth is on mine. The kiss is fierce, desperate, full of all the tension that's been building between us. His tail wraps around my waist, pulling me closer as his hands roam my curves.

I respond with equal fervour, tangling my fingers in his hair, pressing myself against the hard planes of his body. He tastes like starlight and danger, and I never want it to end.

When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard. Horror dawns in Stryker's eyes.

"Casey, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have—" He steps back, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. "That was completely inappropriate."

"Stryker—"

"We're on a mission," he continues, his voice strained. "I'm supposed to be professional, supposed to be watching your back, not..." He gestures helplessly between us.

My lips still tingle from his kiss, my body humming with unfulfilled desire—my pussy moist. But beneath the physical attraction, confusion reigns. This is my first real mission as an enforcer. I should be focused on gathering intelligence, on uncovering whatever secrets Quickening Gliders is hiding.

Instead, I'm juggling the rush of Harlan's attention, the possibility of achieving my racing dreams, and now this electric thing with Stryker. My partner. My protector. My... what?

"We should head back," Stryker says, his professional mask sliding back into place. But I notice his tail is still twitching, betraying his agitation.

The ride back is silent, charged with unspoken words and suppressed desires. I'm acutely aware of every point where our bodies touch, every shared breath in the confined space of the glider as my chest welds itself to his back.

As we approach the landing pad, reality starts to reassert itself. In a few days, I'll attend a ball where I need to convince wealthy shareholders to trust me with their prototype. Somewhere in this gleaming complex, suspicious shipments are being made under cover of darkness. And the man behind it all, Harlan Mertok, is offering me everything I've ever dreamed of.

So why can't I stop thinking about the feel of Stryker's lips on mine?

We dock at the rental station, and Stryker helps me off the glider with careful politeness. His touch is professional now, controlled, but I remember how those same hands felt roaming my body moments ago.

"Casey," he starts, then stops, seeming to struggle with his words.

"It's okay," I say quickly, though I'm not sure what I'm reassuring him about. "We should focus on the mission. On the ball. On..."

"Right," he agrees, but his eyes tell a different story. "The mission."

As we walk to the training quarters, I try to sort through my jumbled emotions. The thrill of potentially racing in the Annual Sky Race wars with my duty as an enforcer. The memory of Stryker's kiss tangles with Harlan's charming attention.

I've never felt more alive – or more confused.

This mission just got a lot more complicated. And somehow, I don't think that kiss made anything clearer.