Pheromone, page 9
part #1 of For the Love of Aliens Series
It’s getting dark outside, and I’m not making a run for the market without sunlight and some items to sell. Period. I need something good to barter with. My eyes flick to the drying pair of lace panties. If all of these aliens are pervs like my friend Big D, maybe I could sell them and get a ride off this stupid planet?
Or maybe I think so highly of myself that I believe my used panties are worth that much.
I end up waiting for Dragon Dude to come back, sitting at the edge of the ship and watching the suns set through the trees. The vent below us bellows occasional steam, but it doesn’t bother me or knock my ass out, so I figure the air is safe enough to breathe, at least from this distance. The cricket creatures crawl up out of the dirt and hop off into the shadows just before I hear the steady footfall of heavy paws.
Big D appears, leaping into the ship as easily as a leopard leaps into a tree. He has another, smaller dragon creature in his mouth that he drops to the floor before sitting back on his haunches like a crouched person.
“Skin … better.” That’s what the translator says, accompanied by some sort of crude stare that makes me fidget. Why do I feel just as naked in the pink bodysuit as I did in the lingerie? Dragon Dude looks at me like he might force-feed me again, so I sit down near the dead animal and stare at its torn throat.
“I need a fire so that I can eat this,” I explain, offering up the translator. He won’t take it which drives me absolutely up the wall. I gesture at him with it, but he stalks away like he has no clue what’s going on. Once again, he retreats to the nest and spends an inordinate amount of time fluffing the furs and cushions.
I wait in the doorway with the curtain pulled back, watching him, wondering if he isn’t going to … Why am I watching if I think he’s going to do that?
He rolls onto his back, looking absurdly human as he reaches between his legs and—
I see.
I turn around so I don’t have to watch that, looking around the main area for items that I might use to make a fire. It’s easy enough to gather sticks and dried plant material. Then I sit there and try to think about any survivalists I might’ve seen on TV and how I might actually go about doing this.
Starting to think this isn’t as easy a task as I imagined it to be.
I stab one stick with another stick and then try to spin it as quickly as I can for some friction. It doesn’t do jack shit. I have no clue how to make a fire from scratch. Seriously. I’m making the crazy people on Naked and Afraid look like real survivalists.
Dragon Dude comes back a short while later and finds me there, working my ape-like charms on the pair of sticks. When he gets close enough to sniff my hands, I throw the translator onto his head and he growls at me.
“Look, I’m sure you’re as keen to get rid of me as I am to leave,” I begin as he reaches out with long fingers, carefully rearranging the crude pile of sticks that I’ve done my best to assemble. With a sweep of his tail, he adds some dry leaves that have gathered on the floor. He still doesn’t appear to understand what it is that I’ve said. “Alright, well, you don’t have to talk, but I need you to listen.”
He crouches low, opening that massive mouth of his. I shudder when I see the rows of sharp teeth, jagged and white like porcelain knives. It stretches from ear to ear (not that he has any visible ears), that terrifying grin, and then out comes a spout of flame, dancing from his tongue and igniting the tinder on the floor.
An old smoke alarm goes off somewhere and brackish water rains down on us, putting the fire out instantly and soaking my one and only outfit. Dragon Dude looks pissed about it, too, especially when the water short-circuits the translator while it’s still on his head. The damn thing sparks and he hisses, using his tail to pull it off and throw it at the wall.
The stupid pink thing shatters to pieces, rendering it even more useless than it already was.
The sprinklers stop as Zero types up a response on her screen.
All it says is: “LOL.”
Like, really?
I look up at Big D, but he’s sitting back on his haunches looking disturbingly person-like.
“I know you can’t go to the market, but if you could just give me something to take, something that’s worth more than I am, then I could barter for a ride back home.” I make myself smile when I say this. Body language and all that. It’s universal, right? But … but is it galactic, too? “There are some doors around here that—”
He pads off on all fours, leaving the room in the middle of my sentence.
When I see where he’s going, the sudden rage in me dissipates a little. He moves right over to one of the doors that I tried so hard to open earlier. I’m surprised when he stands up on his feet and reaches out with both hands, digging his knuckle claws into the crack, and then he drags the door open with a horrific metal-on-metal screech.
He releases the door, crouching back down behind me. I can see his shadow in the pattern of light falling across the room’s shadowed floor. He looks like a gargoyle again. I pretend not to be creeped out (or turned-on), and step into the pitch-black.
There’s just enough light coming in that, after I adjust to the darkness, I can see that I’m standing at the edge of a massive junk pile. The room is absolutely filled with crap. Cords and pieces of metal, computer chips and large branches, broken lights and plastic tubes, skeletons. More than a few skeletons.
Okay, half of this pile is made of ivory and tanned hide.
This guy eats a lot. I’m just not entirely sure why he hasn’t eaten me.
“Can I take anything in this room?” I ask, moving carefully. I appreciate the sound of my boot heels on the metal floors. It makes me feel more … normal. Like I’m not lying in a hospital bed hallucinating an alien abduction. Or even worse: actually experiencing one. “What’s worth money?”
I look back, but Dragon Dude isn’t listening to me. He isn’t even there. I can hear the sound of his footsteps—presumably he’s walking on two feet right now—as he returns to the main area of the ship. For sake of ease, I’ll just start calling it the living room in my head. As far as furniture goes, a large screen with a soul trapped inside, an alien keyboard, a pile of debris, and a few old benches against the walls does not a great living room make.
Close enough.
I dig through the items, but it’s all junk to me. I have no idea how to tell a valuable item from a useless one. I do my best, taking a few computer chip looking things back to the living room.
“Hey Zero, how do I know what to look for? The dragon has a lot of crap. I think he might be a hoarder, NGL.”
“I am unable to generate images, but I’ll make a list of items you should look for.”
“Are dead animals worth money in the market? He’s got plenty of hides and bones and ivory, some nice furs.”
“Unfortunately not. Those items are easily procured on this planet. It is a very fruitful environs. If not for the heavy gravity and the lunar tides, it would’ve been colonized a hundred times over.” There’s a pause where the computer stops typing, and I sense hesitation. Might be an AI chatbot, but she’s got personality. “Not to mention the Aspis.”
Aspis?
I decide not to dig into that story. Not my business. Also, I don’t particularly care. I just want to go home.
My catering business is finally getting off the ground, I’ve got near enough money saved up for a down payment on a place of my own, and I have a big family that I love. Let’s not mention the slug creature that swallowed the mayor’s lawyer, the gray-skinned sex traffickers, or the fact that I only have two pairs of underwear.
Those are all amazing reasons for wanting to leave this place.
“I will do my best to provide you with a comprehensive list, but you must be careful. If you take the wrong item into the market, it will not go well for either of us.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I say with a sigh, tossing the computer chips aside. My hair is dripping down the back of my neck, and the pink suit I’m wearing is disturbingly uncomfortable when wet. I reach for the zipper and yank on it, peeling the fabric down my body and over my hips. Seeing as there’s no sign of Big D (he’s not in the nest, so I figure he’s left again), I take my bra and undies off, too.
Using the same type of flower from earlier, I lather up the clothes and wash them to get the brackish water and the smell of old pipes out. I hang all the items in the bathroom over an old rail that’s rusted and bent into an interesting shape. There are a few small snails that I have to peel off in order to claim the space, but sorry, not sorry.
“You have a whole forest to slime over,” I tell them, depositing them in the leaves behind the bathtub. When they come out of their shells, they’re glowing angrily at me, little spikes protruding from their striped and spotted bodies.
I’m not super comfortable being naked, but I also can’t handle wearing clothes soaked in brown water that’s been sitting in the pipes of this ship for God only knows how long. Everything needed to be washed, and now it has to dry. I need nice clothes in order to pull this off. How can I walk into the market looking like a bum?
I step out of the bathroom, using my fingers to brush my hair when I realize that I can feel eyes on me.
Dragon Dude is sitting crouched in the opening of the ship, a pile of sticks beside him. He’s staring at me, but we’re not even the same species so … it’s not like it matters, right?
I just stare right back at him. If we’re being technical here, he’s been naked this whole time. What does it matter if I’m naked now?
“Is this firewood?” I ask, trying to remain casual. There are strange things happening to me beneath the intensity of his stare.
Especially when he smiles.
He smiles more like a man than a beast, and that freaks me out.
I continue to act casual, sauntering over to the spot where our first fire failed. I point up at the sprinklers above our head and wish fervently that I had a towel or really any piece of fabric that I could use to wrap myself up with.
“Had to wash my clothes. That water smelled like rat shit and rust.” I drop my hand and shrug casually. Big D tilts his head to the side and studies my body like he’s both curious and aroused. The way his cock—just the one—peeks out of the slit in his groin confirms that. I cough into my hand and wonder if it wouldn’t be prudent to slip back into the junk room so I can borrow a hide. I’ll go all Jana of the Jungle until my shit’s dry. “Time for dinner?” I ask, gesturing at the dead animal and hoping that I don’t have to do any of the skinning. I’m a hypocritical carnivore. I’m an excellent cook and an even better caterer, but I’m not a good hunter and I certainly can’t break a successful kill down— especially not an alien kill.
“Eat,” Big D instructs in a rolling growl, but also in English. How does this guy know English?!
Um. He’s also not looking at the carcass. He’s still looking at me, actually. A long tongue slips from his mouth, and he licks his lips in a way that makes me fidget. I’m going crazy here, like there’s some sort of smell on this guy that makes him seem enticing in a way that he shouldn’t.
This is an alien, Eve. He’s an alien. A fucking alien! I know you’ve been hard-pressed for romance as of late, but guys of the same species are a must.
When he starts to prowl toward me, I back up and consider running for the bathroom and the safety of my clothes. What was I thinking? Why did I get naked in the first place?
He comes up close to me, so close that I can feel the overwhelming heat of his body, see the beautiful purple color of his irises … notice the single, large phallus protruding from his crotch. He stands up when he gets close to me, unfurling his body so that he’s standing taller than me and I’m looking up. He’s the smallest he’s ever been and yet … huge. He is still goddamn huge.
Big D is staring down at me like he wants to fuck me, wings spread, claws sheathed and fingers long as he splays them on the wall above my head. When he leans down and sniffs my hair, I go completely still.
My rebellious pussy is throbbing, my nipples hardening to aching points, my skin flushing with a fine sheet of sweat. Can he smell all of that? His slitted nostrils flare slightly as he inhales deeply and then exhales, ruffling up my hair.
With his right hand, he trails his fingertips down the side of my face and then lower, cupping my breast in a huge, warm palm. My breath rushes out, and I clap one of my own hands against his wrist. It looks miniscule, my pale hand on his black scales. It’s a strange contrast, the soft texture of my skin against the silken shimmer of his.
A snarl ripples his large mouth as he squeezes and kneads my breast, words in another language that I don’t understand. He withdraws his hand when I don’t react and then licks his fingers, like he’s tasting me.
I take my chance and stumble away from him.
Because of his location, it’s easier for me to go to the nest area than it is to the bathroom.
That’s a huge mistake.
He follows me there, his massive body blocking the door as I find the spot I slept last night and grab the topmost fur. I climb under it, my entire body shaking, and pull it right up to my chin like a blanket.
“I’m going to sleep here until my clothes are dry,” I explain uselessly. He can’t understand me. Here or there, he knows a word, but he has no idea what I’m saying and vice versa. Now that the shitty translator is gone, I’m really wishing I hadn’t complained so much about it. At least he’s not kicking me out of the nest, so that’s a bonus. Sleeping on the cold metal floor with a blanket of dead leaves is not my idea of a good time.
Big D drops to all fours, padding into the nest, and he comes right up to me, sniffing my hair again. I stay very, very still, unwilling to either encourage or enrage him. He huffs out, stirring my hair and giving me shivers that have nothing to do with the temperature.
“Female,” he says softly, and then he nuzzles me.
I can’t mistake the gesture for anything but what it is: a come-on.
That long tongue of his traces the back of my neck, and I grit my teeth, clinging hard to the fur that’s wrapped around me. Why, oh why, does that feel so good? I’m so confused here. I’m a person. Big D is absolutely not. But he’s sentient. He’s male (obviously). Rather than see me as food, he sees me as … female.
I squeeze my eyes shut and feign sleep, ignoring Big D’s advances. I’m not even sure that we could mate if we wanted to. Our bodies just aren’t compatible. ‘Not too little later’, he said. What did he mean by that exactly?
Doesn’t matter. Does not matter, Eve. Forget it.
Romance rarely works out on earth, so why take a risk here? Besides, who knows what mating with this guy would mean to him? For all I know, these dragon things mate for life like bald eagles or something.
After a while, he seems to accept that this moment isn’t going any further. Rather than force me from the nest or stalk off, he moves to the opposite side of the tilted room and fluffs his pillows.
Well. At least nothing’s eating me tonight.
Not even—or especially—the alien dragon whose house I’m living in.
Best part of sleeping in the nest? It’s pitch-dark in that room.
I wake with a massive yawn, sitting up and raising my arms above my head. The furs I’ve been using to cover myself pool around my waist, exposing my bare breasts to the warm air. Ah, right, I’m the genius who decided to strip down in front of an alien. With a sigh, I stumble to my feet, dragging one of the furs along with me.
As weird as last night was, I slept like a baby. With as many layers of fur and hide as Big D’s got in here, it makes for a pretty comfy bed. Better than my mattress back home.
I hesitate at the doorway, peering out to see if he’s around.
He’s not.
The carcass from last night is still there though.
Lovely.
I step onto the metal floors, expecting to find them as cold and unpleasant as they were yesterday. Not today. Actually, it’s a little steamy in here. With the fur pulled around my shoulders like a cloak, I move into the living room to see if Zero has left me any messages.
“Good morning,” I tell her, pausing to look down at the dead animal on the floor. Back on earth, the corpse would probably have maggots by now. Not here. It still looks surprisingly … fresh.
“Good morning. I take it you slept well?” The cursor at the end of that sentence blinks expectantly. It’s practically an accusation.
“Nothing happened,” I say. Not sure why I say that, exactly. It just pops out. Eve, are you defending yourself against an AI chatbot? You’re losing your sanity here. Get it together. “But he let me sleep in the nest again, so that’s a win.”
“Be careful with the Aspis male.”
I quirk a brow, but the expression is lost on poor blind Zero. Aspis, huh? Is that what Big D is? Zero continues talking, filling the dark screen with hot pink text.
“His kind are not known for their generosity or patience. If he is allowing you in his home—especially in his nest—if he is feeding you, then he will want something in return.”
“You don’t think I’ve ever dated before?” I ask with a laugh. “This is why I never accept free drinks at the bar. No such thing as a free lunch.”
“I am sorry, but I do not understand what you are trying to say.”
I sigh.
I miss Jane.
Jane.
If Jane were here, she’d have laughed. Even in such a tense and strange situation, she’d have made an effort to smile and stay upbeat. “Look, you’re getting that vacation you so desperately needed, right? Maybe we could find some hot springs to chill in?”
I can’t dick around any longer. It’s already been too long. For all I know, my friend is dead. Mated or married against her will. Disappeared to the far edges of the known universe.
Although … known universe is a bit of a misnomer. None of this was known to me before I got kidnapped by Tabbi Kat’s meathead friends.
