Aliens Love Curves

Chapter 13 - Casey

" R emarkable performance," Harlan purrs as I climb out of the prototype's cockpit, his hand appearing to help me down. His touch lingers longer than necessary, fingers trailing along my arm. "You handle her like she was made for you."

I force myself to lean into the contact slightly, fighting the instinct to pull away. "The responsiveness is incredible. Those modifications to the stabilizers really make a difference."

From across the hangar, I catch Stryker's quick glance our way before he returns to his conversation with the chief engineer. His tail gives a single, sharp twitch – the only sign that he's noticed Harlan's proximity.

"Speaking of responsiveness..." Harlan steps closer, his cerise skin gleaming under the hangar lights. "I love how intuitive you are with the controls. The way you anticipate every shift, every nuance." His hand settles on my lower back, warm through my flight suit. "Most pilots fight the glider. You...become one with it."

Heat creeps up my neck, only partly feigned. "I try to work with the machine, not against it."

"Mmm." His fingers trace small circles against my spine. "I'd love to show you the race circuit. Give you a...private tour."

My pulse quickens, but not with attraction, my attraction for Harlan fizzled out the moment I realised something sinister is going on behind the scenes here. I bite my lower lip in contemplation, Harlan’s gold eyes watch my mouth like a predator stalking its prey. This is the opening we've been waiting for – access to more restricted areas. Still, I can't help glancing at Stryker.

He's fully facing us now, his conversation forgotten. Even from this distance, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the rigid set of his tail.

"I'd like that," I tell Harlan, letting a hint of breathiness enter my voice. "When?"

"No time like the present." His smile is predatory, triumphant. "Unless you have other commitments?" He glances Stryker’s way.

"None at all," I shrug. The words feel like betrayal, even though they're part of the mission.

Minutes later, I'm seated in front of Harlan on his personal glider—it's a one-seater, his chest pressed against my back as he takes the controls. His hands guide mine on the steering column, his breath warm against my ear.

"The circuit starts here," he explains as we rise into Ova's afternoon sky. "But the interesting parts...those are off the official track."

His thighs bracket mine as we bank toward a series of floating platforms. Each slight adjustment brings another point of contact between us, and I know it's deliberate. Just like I know Stryker is probably watching below from the hangar as we shoot into the Ovan skyline, his claws leaving marks in whatever he's holding.

"You're quite different from Equanox females," Harlan murmurs, his hands sliding down my arms. "They're all angles and straight lines. But you..." His fingers ghost along my sides. "These curves are fascinating."

I suppress a shiver that has nothing to do with desire. "I used to be self-conscious about being so different when I first arrived on Planet Ova."

"Don't be." His voice drops lower. "Some of us appreciate a more... substantial form."

The glider weaves between floating structures, many bearing ‘restricted access’ warnings. I force myself to focus, memorizing layouts and security measures even as Harlan continues his physical assessment of my substantial form.

By the time we land, I've counted twelve potential entry points to restricted areas, noted three suspicious cargo transfers, and endured countless accidental touches from my pilot.

"Thank you for the tour," I say, extracting myself from his embrace. "It was... illuminating."

"Perhaps next time we could make it dinner as well?" His fingers brush my cheek. "Without any... managerial oversight this time."

I manage a smile that I hope looks excited rather than nauseated. "I'd like that."

The walk back to my apartment feels endless. When I finally get inside, Stryker is sitting in the dark, staring out the window. His reflection in the glass shows an expression I've never seen before.

"Stryker?"

"Have a nice flight?" His voice is carefully neutral.

"It wasn't what you think."

"No?" He turns, and the raw emotion in his silver eyes makes my breath catch. "What exactly should I think when I watch him touch you like that? When I see you let him—"

"Let him?" Heat flares in my chest. "You think I enjoyed that? His hands all over me, his comments about my 'substantial form'?"

Stryker's up in an instant, crossing the room in three long strides. "He said what?

"It doesn't matter. It's what we needed – access to restricted areas, information about—"

His hands cup my face, cutting off my words. For a moment, we just stare at each other, the air between us electric with unspoken things.

"It matters," he growls, and then his mouth is on mine.

This kiss is nothing like the one in the simulator. That was discovery, exploration. This is possession, desperation, need. His tail wraps around my waist, pulling me flush against him as he walks me backward until my knees hit the bed.

We fall together, his weight pressing me into the mattress as his hands roam my body, erasing Harlan's touches with his own. I arch into him, my fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepens.

"Tell me to stop," he breathes against my lips, even as his tail tightens possessively around my thigh.

Instead, I pull him closer, pouring all my frustration and wanting into the kiss. He groans, the sound vibrating through both our bodies.

"Casey," he murmurs between kisses, "we shouldn't—"

"Shut up," I gasp, nipping at his lower lip. "Just... shut up."

His response is to trail burning kisses down my neck, his hands sliding under my shirt to find bare skin. Every touch is a claim, an assertion, a promise.

When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard. Stryker's pupils are blown wide, his pink skin flushed darker with desire. I probably don't look any more composed.

"This complicates things," he says finally, though he makes no move to release me.

I trace the strong line of his jaw, feeling him shiver at my touch. "Things were already complicated."

"Harlan—"

"Is part of the mission." I meet his eyes, willing him to understand. "Just the mission."

His tail tightens reflexively around my thigh. "And this? What is this?"

"This is..." I pull him down for another kiss, softer this time. "This is real."

He rests his forehead against mine, his breath shaky. "We're going to get ourselves killed. Or worse, compromise the mission."

"Probably." I can't help but smile. "But at least we'll die knowing what this feels like."

A laugh rumbles through his chest. "That's not funny."

"It's a little funny." I shift beneath him, drawing a groan. "Besides, Harlan's more likely to reveal things if he thinks he's winning me over. Especially now that he thinks you and I are done."

Stryker's expression darkens. "If he touches you again..."

"He will." I cup his face, forcing him to meet my eyes. "He has to think he has a chance. But this?" I gesture between us. "This is where I want to be."

He kisses me again, hard and quick. "Promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you won't let him..."

"I promise." I pull him back down, losing myself in the feel of him. "Now stop talking about Harlan and kiss me properly."

Later, as we lie tangled together, I know we've crossed a line we can't uncross. This thing between us – this fierce, impossible wanting – it could destroy everything. The mission, our careers, maybe even us.

But with Stryker's heartbeat strong under my cheek and his tail wrapped protectively around my waist, I can't bring myself to care.

Let tomorrow bring what it will. For now, this is enough.

This is everything.