Aliens Love Curves

Chapter 17 - Casey

T he hypo-spray glints menacingly in my hand as I practice the motion of "accidentally" dropping it. Three times I've rehearsed my allergic reaction, each time with Stryker critiquing my performance.

"More wheezing," he suggests from his perch on our bed. "And maybe clutch your throat earlier."

I shoot him a look. "I think I know how to fake anaphylaxis."

"Just trying to keep you alive." His tail twitches – the tell meaning he's more worried than he's letting on.

THE MEDICAL BAY'S STERILE scent burns my nostrils as I perfect my performance. Around me, monitors beep steadily, recording my "reaction" to the test solution. I catch my reflection in a chrome panel – my face appropriately flushed, eyes wide with manufactured panic.

"Blood pressure dropping," one medic announces, exactly as we'd planned. The hypo-spray falls from my trembling fingers, clattering dramatically to the floor.

I gasp for air, clutching my throat. Stryker steps forward, his concern only partly feigned. "Do something!" he demands, tail lashing with genuine anxiety.

But Harlan's smile stops us cold. He stands in the doorway, looking more amused than alarmed. "Fascinating reaction," he says smoothly. "Though perhaps a touch... theatrical?"

My heart stutters. Does he know?

"Fortunately," he continues, "we anticipated potential sensitivity issues. I have a special formula prepared for race day – completely safe, I assure you. We can't have our star pilot missing the biggest race of the year, can we?"

The medical staff exchange glances, but no one questions him. I notice how they seem to shrink away as he approaches, their movements becoming more mechanical, less natural.

"The formula will be administered by myself just before the race," Harlan explains, helping me sit up with false solicitude. His touch lingers on my arm, sending shivers of revulsion through me. "No need for preliminary testing. I personally guarantee its safety."

My heart sinks. So much for Plan A.

BACK IN OUR APARTMENT , I pace while Stryker examines the tracking devices for the hundredth time. Each one is a masterpiece of engineering – microscopic, virtually undetectable, but powerful enough to transmit through almost any shielding. One in my suit, one in my boot, another sewn into my underwear.

He looks into my eyes after examining this one. “If Harlan tries anything...” I shake my head and roll my eyes with a smile. "The one in your suit broadcasts on three frequencies," he explains, his professional tone belied by the way his tail keeps reaching for me unconsciously. "If they try to jam the signal—"

"The others will still get through," I finish. "I know, my love. We've been over this."

He looks up sharply at the endearment. Even after everything, it still surprises him sometimes – these casual admissions of feeling. His expression softens, and suddenly I can't bear the distance between us.

I cross to where he sits, settling into his lap. His arms come around me automatically, tail curling protectively around my waist. "We could still leave," he murmurs into my hair. "Right now. Just... disappear."

The temptation is strong. To run away, leave this twisted place behind, forget about genetic experiments and missing pilots and whatever horrors lurk in Harlan's special formula.

But the faces of those pilots in the pods haunt me. Their twisted forms, their suffering – it would follow us wherever we went.

"You know we can't," I say softly.

His arms tighten around me. "I know. Doesn't stop me from wishing."

We stay like that for a while, just holding each other. Through the window, Ova's three moons paint the room in shifting shadows. In two days, everything will change. One way or another, this will end.

"Tell me about after," I whisper.

Stryker's hands stroke my back, soothing us both. "After we expose everything? After we save those pilots and bring down Harlan's operation?"

"After all of it. Where will we go first?"

He shifts, settling me more comfortably against him. "There's a small planet in the Andromeda sector," he begins, his deep voice rumbling through my body. "Barely colonized, mostly wilderness. The sky there... it's never the same colour twice. Something in the atmosphere makes it shift constantly, like an ever-changing rainbow."

I close my eyes, letting his words paint pictures in my mind. "Tell me more."

"The gravity's lighter than here – you'd love flying there. And there are these creatures, like the giant floating jellyfish found in your oceans, that dance in the thermal currents. At sunset, they glow from within, lighting up the whole sky."

"Sounds perfect," I murmur, snuggling closer.

"That's just the first stop," he continues, his tail squeezing gently. "There's a space station near the Carina nebula where they've built the most incredible racing circuit you've ever seen. The track weaves through asteroid fields and solar winds..."

“I’m sold,” I laugh, throwing my head back.

Stryker nuzzles into my neck, his fangs scrapping across the soft ski, sending a buzz of current down between my thighs.

We spend hours like this, planning adventures we might never have. Each destination becomes more elaborate, more impossible, but it doesn't matter. For these precious hours, we let ourselves believe in a future beyond the next two days.

As the night deepens, our conversation turns more intimate. Stryker's hands trace patterns on my skin, spending extra time on my rounded abdomen and my breasts, as he tells me about his home world, about traditions and customs he'd like to share with me. I tell him about Earth, about places I'd love to show him.

"I should have told you sooner," he says suddenly, his voice rough with emotion.

"Told me what?"

"Everything." His hands frame my face, silver eyes intense in the moonlight. "That I've been falling for you since that first day in training. That watching you with Harlan has been torture. That the thought of losing you..." His voice breaks slightly.

I lean forward, pressing my forehead to his. "You haven't lost me. You won't."

"Casey..." He kisses me then, soft and desperate all at once. "I love you. More than duty, more than the mission, more than my own life."

The words unlock something in my chest. I kiss him back fiercely, pouring all my fear and hope and love into it. "Show me," I whisper against his lips. "Show me how much."

He carries me with ease over to the bed, laying me down slowly onto my back as if I were made of porcelain. That’s when treating me like an object that might break ends. He pulls my flying suit down so quickly; I’m surprised his claws don’t rip it to shreds.

His claws do however, push into the soft flesh of my thighs as he pushes them wide open. His silver eyes drink in the moist lips of my vulnerability as my exposed pussy is laid bare.

A deep rumble escapes from his chest. “I can smell your arousal my love. I want to taste your sweet nectar.”

I groan and my knees drop open further, inviting him in. He doesn’t wait a second longer. His tongue pierces me, and I whimper and arch my back as his claw flicks across my swollen clit.

Something flicks at my left nipple before quickly going to the right one, then alternating between the two. Tiny electric jolts flicker down from my nipples to my clit, and I groan with pleasure when I see it’s the tip of Stryker’s tail.

I’m writhing in ecstasy and close to orgasm when he suddenly mounts me. A second later, his perfect alien cock spears me. I scream out. “Oh fuck me!”

Stryker’s eyes are like swirling mercury pools as they look deeply into mine. “That’s what I intend to do my beautiful human.”

And he does, again and again, until the rising sun finds us tangled together in sheets that smell of starlight and promises.

THE MESSAGE FROM HARLAN arrives as we're getting dressed – a clinical reminder about the special formula waiting for race day. My hands shake slightly as I read it.

Stryker's tail wraps around me from behind, steadying me. "We have backup plans for the backup plans," he reminds me. "And I'll be watching every second."

I lean back against him, memorizing this moment – the solid warmth of him, the gentle weight of his tail around my waist, the way his breath stirs my hair.

"I love you," I tell him, because some things need to be said in the light of day, not just in the safety of darkness.

His arms tighten around me. "I love you too. Which is why we're going to survive this. All of it."

We spend the rest of the day checking and rechecking our preparations. Each tracking device is tested, each contingency reviewed. We go over the racecourse again, marking potential escape routes and danger zones.

As night falls again, we hold each other close, neither sleeping much. Every moment feels precious now, weighted with the knowledge of what's coming.

Two days until the race.

Two days until we save those pilots or join them.

Two days to pray our love is stronger than whatever Harlan has planned.

Some truths are better left unspoken.

But others need to be shouted from rooftops.

Or whispered in the dark between heartbeats.

"I love you," we tell each other again and again, like a talisman against tomorrow.

Like a promise we intend to keep.