Page 8 of Aliens Love Curves

"Not much of a stretch," she grins while shimmering her eyebrows, and I can't help but chuckle.

"True. But remember, we're not just colleagues. For this to work, we need to be... close."

Casey's eyes widen slightly, and I see a flush creep up her cheeks. "Howcloseare we talking?"

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "Close enough that it's believable I'd leave my job to manage your career. We don't need to be overtly...romantic, but there should be...an intimacy. A connection."

"Romance?! Oh erm...I-I didn’t realise we’d be romantically involved in our undercover guises. Okay." Casey nods, her voice a little husky. "We should probably practice, then. You know, to make it convincing."

My heart rate picks up at her suggestion. "Good idea. Let's, uh, let's try some typical couple behaviours."

She licks her lips as she nods, and my cock instantly swells. I shuffle awkwardly and turn away to hide how much the small innocent gesture just aroused me.

For the next hour, we work on our non-verbal communication. Standing close together, casual touches, finishing each other's sentences. Each point of contact sends electricity through my body, and I can see from Casey's reactions that she feels it too.

"Okay," I say, my voice rougher than I'd like, "let's try a scenario. We're at a company event, mingling with other employees."

Casey nods, slipping seamlessly into character. She steps closer to me, her hand resting lightly on my arm. "Darling," she says, her voice pitched just for my ears, "have you met the new head of R&D? I hear he's developed some fascinating stabilizer technology."

I lean in, my lips close to her ear, playing along. "Not yet, sweetheart. Why don't you introduce us?"

Casey’s hair is swept up and I see the hairs prick on the back of her neck, followed by a shiver running through her body. I gasp, and for a moment, I forget this is just an act. I want to pull her closer, to—

She clears her throat, stepping back. "That was...convincing," she’s a little breathless.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. This mission is going to be more challenging than I thought, and not because of any danger we might face.

As the day wears on, we continue our preparations. Casey's excitement about returning to gliders is palpable, and I find myself having to remind her - and myself - of our true purpose.

"I can't wait to get my hands on one of their racing models," she literally gushes as she pours over the specs of Quickening Gliders' latest design. "The manoeuvrability on this thing must be insane!"

I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm, even as I gently redirect her. "Remember, Cop, we're not there to race. We need to keep our focus on the mission."

She sighs, and her shoulders visibly drop, but she nods. "I know, I know. But surely a little enthusiasm for the gliders will help sell our cover, right?"

"True," I concede. "Just don't get too caught up in the thrill of it all. We can't afford to lose sight of why we're really there."

Casey's expression sobers. "You're right. I won't let you down, Stryker. I mean, partner." The wink she does makes my stomach flutter.

THE NEXT DAY PASSESin a blur of preparation, practice, and growing tension. Each hour, our acts as a couple become more natural, more convincing, and come the afternoon, it becomes harder for me to remember that it's just an act.

Finally, three days later, our departure arrives. We board a shuttle to Quickening Gliders' campus, our new identities firmly in place. As we approach, I can't help but be awed by the sight.

The Quickening Gliders complex is a marvel of engineering and beauty. Floating platforms connected by shimmering energy bridges span the Ovan sky. Gleaming buildings rise from each platform, their architecture a blend of form and function. Gliders of all shapes and sizes flit between the structures, their pilots executing manoeuvres that make even my experienced heart race.

Beside me, Casey gasps. "It's magnificent," she breathes, her eyes wide with wonder.

I nod, equally impressed despite myself. "Remember, we're professionals. Don't let the glamour distract you from our purpose."

She shoots me a look that's part exasperation, part fondness. "Yes, dear," she says, emphasizing our cover. "I'll try to contain my excitement."

As our shuttle docks at the main platform, I feel a mix of anticipation and apprehension. This is it. From this moment on, we're no longer officially Enforcers—no longer trainee Stryker and Cadet Peace. We're undercover operatives, a manager-pilot duo looking to make their mark in the world of professional gliding.

We step off the shuttle, and I place a protective hand on the small of Casey's back. The gesture feels natural, even though my heart races at the contact. Casey leans into me slightly, playing her part perfectly.

A tall, elegantly dressed Equanox female approaches us, a warm smile on her face. "Welcome to Quickening Gliders," she says. "I'm Lyra, head of new recruit orientation. You must be Casey and Stryker."

Casey steps forward, extending her hand with a confident smile. "That's us! We're so excited to be here. I've dreamed of flying for Quickening Gliders since I was a kid."