Michaela

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Michaela Page 2

by Tracy St. John

The one who had answered the door had shoulder-length black hair that was almost like a cloud with its frizzy texture. All that soft-looking cotton candy hair framed a face made of sharp angles, the bone structure finely cut. It wouldn’t have been a handsome face, except for the warmth that exuded from his expression and cat-pupiled eyes. The kindness in the Kalquorian’s features made him appealing.

  As for the body covered in the clinging black formsuit the alien male wore ... that was sheer perfection. Michaela’s mouth went dry to see such blatant muscularity, the likes she’d never seen except on Earther soldiers who’d been fed steroids. Even they couldn’t compare with the gorgeous, balanced physique of this man.

  Israla’s smooth voice barely registered as Michaela looked at the masculine vision before her. “Good evening once again, Dramok Korkla. I’ve brought someone to meet you.”

  Dramok. That means he’s the leader of the clan, Michaela thought, one of the few things her brain spat out with clarity. The Kalquorian looked at her, his dazzling blue-purple eyes taking her in. Her, he looked at her. At Michaela, not the beautiful, powerful, and sexually adventurous Israla. How could he stare at her as if the Plasian did not even exist?

  He bowed once more, this time to Michaela. She was aware of the other two doing so as well. For the moment, her sight and hearing were all Korkla’s as he spoke.

  “Matara Michaela, this is a pleasure. I cannot begin to express how much we enjoyed your dance tonight.”

  By some miracle, she remembered how to speak. Her voice managed to be more than a whisper, though not by much. “Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.”

  “Please do come in.” Korkla and the other two stepped back to allow her entry.

  When Michaela hesitated, Israla slipped an arm around her. The Saucin gave her a gentle but firm push towards the room beyond.

  The leader of Plasius said loud enough for all to hear, “I have other duties to attend to. Take your time getting acquainted.” Then she leaned to whisper in Michaela’s ear.

  “Do you smell that spicy scent?”

  A sharp aroma teased Michaela’s nostrils. “Like cinnamon? Oh, I guess you don’t know what cinnamon is.”

  Israla was content to know she had picked up the singular scent. “That’s the aroma of a Kalquorian’s arousal. So now you know they are very interested in you.”

  Before Michaela could absorb that little nugget of information, Israla turned and swept away, leaving her alone with the three alien men. Michaela watched her go, her mouth hanging open. It occurred to her that perhaps running after the Saucin might be a good idea.

  A large but gentle hand closed around Michaela’s upper arm and pulled her towards the clan’s quarters. Her brain still sputtering like a dying engine, unable to think properly, she crossed the threshold. The door shut behind her. She stood in the room, alone with three big alien men.

  Dramok Korkla waved his hand towards the huge lounger, a piece of furniture that resembled a plush sofa. “Please, sit down, Matara.”

  One of the other men asked, “May I offer you a drink?”

  Michaela’s pounding heart skipped a little as she took in this man. Only a couple inches shorter than Korkla, he smiled at her.

  Oh wow. He’s even more gorgeous than I remember, Michaela thought.

  “This is my Imdiko, Matara. His name is Govi,” Korkla said in his warm voice.

  This would be the psychologist Israla had told her about. Govi was a shrink with perfect, masculine features, as stunning as a male could be. His face was not angular like Korkla’s, nor cherubic like Michaela’s. He struck a perfect line down the middle, making his jaw and dimpled chin strong without being stark. His cheekbones were well-formed without being haughty. His long black hair lay smooth as glass halfway to his chest.

  What a chest it was, delineated beneath that body-hugging outfit they called a formsuit. The attire certainly suited Govi’s form. His body was just a shade less perfect than Korkla’s, a bit more elongated and slender. Not that Michaela would hold that against Govi. No, he was just flat-out too stunning to be torn down by comparison.

  “A drink, Matara?” The man’s soft voice roused her from her contemplation.

  She blinked, trying to escape the spell of the man’s beauty. “Oh. I don’t know if I should. Israla already gave me some leshella. I may have had too much already.”

  Yes, she’d blame her tongue-tied reaction to the handsome Kalquorian on the drink. It was as good an excuse as any to hang blunders on.

  Govi smiled, making Michaela’s world tilt. As if he wasn’t handsome enough, he had to go and do that, increasing his appeal to the most ridiculous degree ever.

  He said, “Shel is a derivative of leshella, but not quite as potent. A small glass of that shouldn’t hurt.”

  Stunned by the gorgeous man in front of her, Michaela mumbled, “Okay, I guess.”

  While he fetched a glass into which he poured a light blue liquid, Korkla steered her over to the mammoth lounger. Michaela perched on the edge of it, her feet dangling a few inches from the flooring. Korkla sat next to her. He didn’t touch her, but he was close enough for her to feel his body heat and note the waft of cinnamon-like scent coming off him.

  Israla had said it was the aroma of Kalquorian arousal. Could that really be true? Why in the universe would this man find her attractive? Maybe Israla had lied when she’d said this clan was fully aware of Michaela’s true form.

  Govi came over with the glass of shel. He handed it to her and sat close on her opposite side. That left the third member of this group to look at ... as if Michaela could miss someone that big.

  Michaela had never seen such wide shoulders on anyone before. The dreadlocked Kalquorian was the epitome of the word ‘huge’. All muscle, he made her feel as fragile as crystal waiting to be shattered.

  He bowed as Korkla introduced him. “This is my Nobek, Michaela. His name is Raxstad.”

  Raxstad straightened and smiled. “I hope I do not frighten you. I sometimes have that effect on people due to my size.”

  She smiled back in self-defense. Be nice to the big Kalquorian ape-man and maybe he won’t swipe your head off your shoulders, she thought. Her heart pounded fit to jump out of her chest.

  To cover her unease, Michaela said, “Your shoulders are almost as wide as you are tall. You’re like a damned gorilla.”

  Raxstad’s brows lifted. “I am not familiar with the term ‘gorilla’.”

  Crap, he probably thought she had insulted him. Michaela curled a little into herself. “It’s a big animal. Not as big as you, but pretty big. Strong too,” she added, hoping he’d take it as a compliment.

  Raxstad crouched down before her, putting his face on the level of hers. His features were broad, almost to the point of being brutish. His face matched his body. Michaela would not have called him handsome, but the Nobek was certainly a compelling sight.

  The fierceness of his face eased with the smile he gave her. Something loosened in her chest to see him look at her with warmth. “I am intimidating you, little one. Is this any better?”

  Govi hurried to add, “Only Raxstad’s enemies need fear him, not lovely little Earther girls.”

  But I’m not really a girl, Michaela’s mind whispered. She was only a pretender, an abomination of a human. These men had come to Plasius to clan a woman, not a freak of nature. She’d teased them with her dancing, making swaying promises with her body that it could not uphold. Now they looked at her in a certain way, as a fully female creature. She had lied, not with words but with the dance. They did not know what it was they looked upon.

  Michaela drew in on herself again, tears filling her eyes. A sob tumbled from her lips.

  The three men moved in close as their faces registered alarm. Korkla’s arm closed around her waist. Raxstad’s hands covered hers where they clutched at her glass of shel. Govi stroked her cheek with a careful hand.

  The Imdiko coaxed her gently. “Easy, Michaela. It’s all right. We only wish to talk
to you tonight. Nothing else.”

  Korkla added, “There is nothing to be afraid of. Tell us about your dancing. Who taught you?”

  While they spoke, Raxstad lifted her hands with her glass, pressing it to her lips. She obediently took a sip, trying to steady herself. The shel wasn’t as good as leshella, but she still liked it. The simple act of drinking helped her find her equilibrium.

  When Raxstad lowered the cup again, Michaela drew a shuddering breath. “My mother. It was my mother who taught me Raqs Sharqi.”

  “Is it a popular dance on Earth?”

  Michaela shook her head. Govi was the handsomest of the three, but it was Raxstad who knelt in front of her, commanding her sight. His strong features, while brutish and fierce, possessed a nice quality that she found she liked. The Nobek had a directness to him that appealed to Michaela. She had the feeling that no one ever wondered where they stood with Raxstad.

  She told them, “No, belly dancing was not indigenous to the people of the North American Bloc, where I lived. My mother’s parents were from Saudi Arabia in the Middle Eastern Bloc. The dance is outlawed on all of Earth now.”

  As Govi drew a breath to speak, Raxstad looked towards him. Feeling as if she’d been released by the commanding Nobek, Michaela looked at the stunning face of the Imdiko.

  Govi said, “I imagine it would have been outlawed. It is quite seductive, and I’ve found Earthers tend to be repressed in their intimacies. Being that ... blatantly sensual ... would be far beyond most of your race’s capabilities.”

  Michaela’s gaze drank in the perfectly shaped eyes, nose, and especially the mouth of the psychologist. She said, “The funny thing is, the dance didn’t originate to be salacious at all. It started as a form of child birthing exercises.”

  Korkla snickered. “Really? I can imagine it often led to the occurrence of child birth itself.”

  Michaela now had to look at the clan leader as she laughed. Once again she was struck by how the warmth of the Dramok’s smile made his angular face so entrancing, almost as much as Govi’s.

  She enjoyed ribald humor. The unexpected suggestiveness of Korkla’s remark delighted her. “Yeah, well you can see why it got outlawed on Earth. Heaven forbid sex be something anyone would want to do.”

  Michaela was even getting used to Raxstad’s more primitive physicality. She had no trouble turning her smile in his direction as he joined in her laughter. The Nobek told her, “You do not appear to be so repressed. I was concerned we would never get you to even speak to us.”

  They seemed nice. Perhaps it was the leshella still in Michaela’s system that made her dare to be blunt. More likely it was the need to get the worst of this meeting done and over with. If these three men were going to reject her, it needed to happen now before she could entertain any thoughts that would lead her to liking them too much.

  Michaela told the clan, “As a man, I got away with being crass on board our ship in ways that no woman could. Swearing, telling crude jokes, acting like I thought with my cock ... Earth turns a blind eye to some things that men do. I could be a foul-mouthed asshole and even make some sexual jokes. As long as I didn’t act too outrageous in front of my superiors, there was no problem.”

  Korkla studied her closely. “But you prefer presenting yourself as a female. That is correct?”

  None of them had reacted to her profane language or overt references to having masculine qualities. They didn’t even exhibit morbid fascination, which had been the best Michaela thought she could hope for. She checked the three faces surrounding her, searching for a hint of disgust. She saw only kindness and patience.

  She said, “I feel more female than male, even though I’m both.”

  Govi reached up to stroke a curl. “It must have been hard for you to pretend otherwise, to have lived your entire life in fear of discovery.”

  Raxstad touched her knee, a finger tracing a crease in her skirt. “Would they really have killed you for being born a – I’m sorry, Michaela. I’ve forgotten the word.”

  “Intersex. Some would call me a hermaphrodite, but I like intersex better.” She barely contained a shiver to feel them touching her. It made her feel warm inside. Her attitude felt lighter ... was that hope? Did she dare to anticipate they would actually consider her a viable mate? “Yes, they would have euthanized me at birth if the truth had gotten out. If they had found out later, I would have been executed as demon spawn.”

  Chapter 2

  Korkla felt a pulse of anger in his skull at Michaela’s words. What kind of madness possessed the Earther government? How could they judge someone unworthy of life over something as inconsequential as how she’d been made? How could any religion declare such a person as damned because of an accident of birth? How could a court sentence someone to die over something she had no control over? The idea was unfathomable.

  The Dramok saw a tremor run through Raxstad’s body. The Nobek breed was made for protecting others, particularly those who could not defend themselves. Little Michaela looked so damned vulnerable, too. No doubt her story upset the fiercest member of Korkla’s clan.

  As one of the warrior breed of the Kalquorian people, Raxstad did not shy away from violence. He had been an officer for Global Security for decades now, determined to protect those who needed it most. Feeling upset over Michaela’s story as Korkla did, he knew Raxstad must be absolutely livid that she’d lived in such fear. The amount of control it took for the Nobek to not show it had to be phenomenal.

  Govi’s voice shook a little as he voiced his opinion. “It is good you managed to escape. I shudder to think of such an unearned fate had you been discovered.”

  Michaela’s smile astonished Korkla, given what she’d just divulged. She said, “Well, drinking leshella and dancing on Plasius is a hard thing too, but I keep reminding myself I’ve lived through worse.”

  They all laughed. Korkla was impressed that Michaela had the kind of strength that allowed her to find humor in her circumstances.

  He told her, “Being endlessly doted on by a clan on Kalquor is its own trial. Thank the ancestors you’re such a survivor. You might be able to withstand it.”

  Michaela bit her plump lower lip. “That’s assuming a clan would even want me.”

  Korkla’s brows rose. Here was the issue they’d been warned about, yet it still took him by surprise.

  It was wrong on so many levels that Michaela would think of herself as anything less than desirable. She was stunning. Curls as inky as any Kalquorian’s hair framed a soft, round face. Her skin was as brown as his, making her look like a miniature version of one of his race ... until one noted the dark eyes with their rounded pupils. Her wide eyes spoke of youth’s innocence one moment, but experienced wisdom the next.

  Her body was different from a Kalquorian’s too, in a wondrous way. She was toned, but not muscled like even the women of Korkla’s people tended to be. Michaela was not willowy like a Plasian either. Like her face, her physique possessed a pleasing softness. He could only imagine how tenderly her body would cradle his, how it would melt against him...

  Korkla brought himself out of the fantasy when warning heat trickled into his loins. He cleared his throat. “Of course a clan would want you. How could they not? You’re beautiful, talented, and strong. What a gift you are, Michaela.”

  “But I’m not a real woman.”

  She laid it out with blunt, almost angry force. Her shoulders slumped, as if she wished to hide their wider proportions. Those shoulders, along with her husky voice, were the only physical hints Korkla could see of Michaela’s masculine nature. They teased of the treasures he’d find later ... if his clan could convince Michaela that there was nothing wrong with her rarity.

  The Dramok had to quell the instant reassurances that rose to his lips. Israla had cautioned him that Michaela could twist such support so as to re-affirm that she was less than human.

  Govi took up the challenge, as they had agreed he would. “You say you feel female. We’ve been
told by the doctor who saw you here that you have all the organs that make a female. You are even believed to be fertile. The presence of eggs has been confirmed.”

  Korkla did not miss the bitterness in Michaela’s tone as she responded. “Along with sperm. And a dick. I’m repulsive.”

  The Dramok saw Raxstad jerk. Momentary anger crossed the Nobek’s broad features before he recovered and snorted dismissively. “I have sperm and two dicks. Does that make me twice as repulsive?”

  Michaela scowled. “For heaven’s sake, you’re a Kalquorian man. You’re supposed to have that stuff. I’m meant to be one or the other. Not something in between.”

  Govi cupped her chin in his palm, forcing her to look at him. In a gentle but firm tone, he said, “You’re supposed to be what you are. Nothing else. Michaela, I like both men and women. My whole clan does. The three of us are intimate with each other.”

  Korkla had to weigh in as well because Michaela’s self-loathing concerned him like nothing else he’d ever faced. “I’ve also had sexual relations with a couple of species that are intersex, as you call it. None of that bothers me. In fact, the idea of being with someone who is so much like my species and is both male and female is exciting.”

  “You’ve just got more toys to play with, that’s all.” Raxstad grinned with mischief, and then leaned close to growl lecherously at Michaela. “I like toys, especially when they come attached to someone as pretty as you.”

  Michaela stared at him, her lovely, lush mouth hanging wide open. She had a look on her face that said he titillated and scared her all at once.

  Her expression made Korkla’s cocks fill with abrupt and insistent heat. He had the sudden vision of Michaela kneeling at his feet, looking up at him with that heady mix of anxiety and anticipation.

  He caught a delicious scent as well; something sweetly salty, like the seashore after a summer storm. It came from the Earther in a sudden wave. Korkla couldn’t help but look at Michaela’s lap. The Dramok’s breath caught to see a slight bulge in her skirt at the apex of where her thighs met.

 

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