Page 16 of Aliens Love Curves
We stare at each other, the morning sun casting long shadows across the launch pad. In the distance, workers begin their daily routines, oblivious to the tension crackling between us.
"Fine," I concede finally. "But we do this smart. We need to know more about those shipments, about what Harlan's really planning. And if you do race, we need contingency plans."
Relief softens Casey's features. "Thank you." She touches my arm gently, and again, I fight the urge to pull her closer. "I know you're worried, but I can handle myself. And maybe... maybe we can help each other better. You watch my back with Harlan, and I'll be able to help investigate the shipments from a different angle."
I nod, trying to ignore how her touch sends heat through my body. "Partners still?"
Casey smiles, flashing her blunt white human teeth, and for a moment, all my doubts and fears seem worth it. "Partners."
She walks ahead of me slightly, and watching her walk, confidence in every step, I realize I don't have a choice. I'm already in too deep. The best I can do now is stay close, protecther as much as she'll let me, and pray that my growing feelings for her don't compromise everything we're here to accomplish.
As we head back to the apartment, the walk back to our quarters is charged with unspoken words. Each brush of our arms, each shared glance, feels magnified. We pass other instructors and racers here on a temporary basis like us, and fulltime employees heading to their morning shifts, but they feel like background characters in a scene focused entirely on the electricity between us.
In the elevator, Casey leans against the wall, studying me. "You never finished what you were saying back there...about what's so hard to watch."
The confined space seems to shrink, her presence filling every available inch. "Casey..."
"No," she pushes off the wall, taking a step toward me. "I want to know. What's so hard, Stryker? What are you really afraid of?"
The elevator stops, the doors sliding open with a soft chime. A group of engineers waits to board, forcing us to step out. The moment breaks, but the question lingers between us.
I can't help but wonder if I'm making a huge mistake. The mission is complicated enough without adding Casey's participation in the race. Without adding these feelings that grow stronger every day.
One thing's certain – between the mysterious shipments, Harlan's hidden agenda, and the undeniable attraction between Casey and me, this mission is becoming more dangerous by the day. And not just to our careers.
As we reach our door, Casey turns to me. "Stryker?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you. For trusting me."
The sincerity in her voice, the warmth in her eyes – it's almost my undoing. I manage a nod, not trusting myself to speak.
She reaches up, her hand hovering near my face for a moment before dropping back to her side. The ghost of her almost-touch lingers on my skin as she disappears into the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the growing certainty that I'm falling for the one person I can't have.
That night, lying on the couch that's become both sanctuary and prison, I listen to the soft sounds of Casey preparing for bed. The rustle of fabric as she changes behind a half-closed bathroom door, the pad of her feet on the bathroom tile, and then the quiet sigh as she slides between her sheets – each sound is an exquisite torture.
Tomorrow, we'll investigate those shipments. Tomorrow, we'll plan for the race and whatever dangers it might bring. Tomorrow, we'll be professional partners working a crucial mission.
But tonight, in the darkness of our shared space, I allow myself to imagine a different reality. One where I'm not an enforcer, Casey's not my partner, and the growing feeling in my chest isn't a liability but a gift.
Sleep, when it finally comes, is filled with dreams of curves and courage, of passion and partnership, of all the things I want but cannot have.
Chapter 9 - Casey
“Good 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 STREAMSthrough 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.