Hot Alpha Alien Husbands: Book One: Daxx and Jetta

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Hot Alpha Alien Husbands: Book One: Daxx and Jetta Page 8

by Scarlett Starkleigh


  “Never mind,” she said with a wave of her hand.

  “I’ll have the one at home programmed with your favorites once I’m sent those details.”

  “This isn’t your home?”

  Daxx passed her a glass of wine and then ordered himself a whiskey already poured.

  “Maybe I’d prefer whiskey, too,” Jetta muttered.

  “You don’t want the wine? I’ll have the wine.” Daxx was about to switch glasses with her.

  “No, I like wine.” She snatched her hand away.

  “You’ll like this one. It comes from my own vineyard. And I know you like wine. You talked about it on the trip here. That’s why I poured some for you. You said you weren’t a wine snob, that you liked your wine to taste like dessert.”

  She narrowed her eyes. She was being difficult. She felt she needed to fight this. He was going to enjoy watching her melt like putty in his hands again.

  “Try it,” he invited. “And no, this isn’t home. It’s just where I stay when I need to be here. I don’t like to be in the main house. I prefer my privacy and it’s nice here in the forest. We’ll go home in a few days.”

  “Um, yeah, I don’t think so, buddy. And how do I know it’s not got more aphrodisiac in it so that I’ll have no choice but to tear your clothes off?”

  He smiled, “You don’t.”

  “Does it?”

  He shrugged sheepishly.

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and narrowed her eyes at him.

  He sat in a chair and motioned for her to sit in the one beside it.

  “Wait,” she said, glancing at the nourishment station, excited, “Can it make pizza?”

  “Pete zah?”

  “Oh God. Please tell me you know what pizza is.”

  “Explain?”

  “It’s a food. It’s uh, dough, like bread, but with stuff on it. Cheese, tomato sauce, pepperoni, sometimes some vegetables, that kind of thing. It’s usually round, cut into triangles?”

  “Ah. I haven’t tried it but we’ve got that. Is that important to you?”

  She jumped to her feet, “Thank you, jesus. Oh. Chocolate. Chocolate! Do you have chocolate?”

  “We do. I’d wager it’s better than your planet’s chocolate, too.”

  She threw herself back on the bed and let out a sigh of relief.

  “I’m gonna need that at PMS time.”

  “What’s that?”

  “PMS?”

  “Yes.”

  “Premenstrual syndrome. Before women menstruate. “You know.”

  “No?”

  He looked at his phone and looked it up and read quickly.

  “Oh. You’ll probably stop having that.”

  “Why?”

  “Women on Phallyx don’t have a cycle once they’re married.”

  “Why? Because they’re always pregnant?”

  Daxx laughed, “No. If you’re attached, your husband regulates ovulation. Today the medicine you received jump-started it but from here on, it’ll be me.”

  “That doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

  Without much option to do otherwise, because he was overwhelmingly aching to have her, he moved fast toward her and took the opportunity and immediately covered her body with his, fencing her in but not putting his full weight on her.

  Her face went red and her palms landed against his chest.

  -6-

  JETTA

  “Daxx,” I told him, “Please get off me.”

  “Not a chance,” he informed me, “I’ve been dreaming of this for over a month and the way you feel under me, my body has been waiting for this my entire life.”

  “Seriously,” I said and pushed on his chest.

  His hands grasped mine and pinned them above my head. His head descended. He was going to kiss me. The lust in his eyes was lust the likes I’d never seen in my life.

  Before I could protest further, my eyes dropped to his mouth. He saw it and he took that as an invitation. His lips were on mine, firm and velvety. Heavenly. Out of this world.

  Daxx coaxed my mouth open, teasing the seam of my lips with the tip of his tongue, and when he got inside, he tickled my tongue with his.

  He let go of one of my wrists and that hand traveled to my face, then down my throat, cupped my breast, and then kept going until he was cupping my hip, his warm and strong fingers firmly pressing against the flesh at my upper derriere.

  “It has been more than four years. But if I had a choice of being with any other woman or sticking to a fake synthetic pussy and waiting four more years for you, I’d wait.”

  I let out a big breath and my free hand dove into his hair. The other clutched his shirt.

  “You aliens say the most romantic things,” I laughed against his mouth and he smiled.

  “No PMS or menstruation? Better chocolate?”

  “That, too.” I said.

  He couldn’t possibly be serious about the four year wait thing but it was still a sweet thing to say so I kissed across his stubbled jaw to his throat and then my nose was behind his earlobe. I ran my nose up the ridge of his ear and then I felt the tiny stud near the top of his ear. I opened my eyes and looked at it. It was a tiny little silver ball, smaller than most stud earrings, barely noticeable, and definitely smaller than my piercing.

  His mouth moved to my throat and his lips worked their way down to my cleavage, the stubble on his jaw and chin feeling amazing against my skin. My breath hitched as his free hand suddenly dove into the back of my panties and then he was cupping my ass inside the panties.

  “Wait,” I was staring at the ceiling but only half seeing how gorgeous it was. This bed was like a beautiful cavern with a dome-shaped ceiling that was all intricate swirly carvings with what looked like mother of pearl inlaid in it.

  “Wait?” he asked, his hand still on my butt, had moved over so that he had a good portion of both cheeks in one hand. What must have been his middle finger slid between my crack, glided across my back entrance, and then BAM; I felt it right there, right at the opening of my freshly waxed pussy.

  They waxed us yesterday. I think so, anyway; unless we’d slept a few days after that. I wasn’t happy and had tried to object, saying I was more of a ‘70’s bush’ kinda girl, which I wasn’t, but I certainly wasn’t interested in them primping me. The one female nurse (who looked like she was in her late fifties, spoke no English to me, and had zero personality), actually wrestled me to the table and started to slather hot wax on my nether regions while I flailed and kept slapping at her hands.

  I kept fighting until she hit a button on the walkie talkie attached to the cuff of her short-sleeved uniform and barked what sounded like German into it. A voice sounded over a loudspeaker and stated, “Jetta Michaels, if you don’t cooperate with your nurse, we will have to sedate you again.” There was no way in the world I wanted to be sedated while half-naked. Nope. Nuh uh.

  I cooperated. She gave me a full Brazilian and waxed my full legs as well as my armpits and now I was a little bit glad because Daxx’s hand was between my legs and I was smooth and silky down there. Not to mention freshly powdered by his space toilet.

  So bloody weird.

  “But since I have you right here, I don’t want to wait any longer, baby. I’m aching for you.” He rubbed against me and… in my brain it felt like BOING, SCHWING, SHAZAM.

  Oh my goodness gracious. How many comic book action words can I use to convey what I felt at the bulge that rubbed against me? There weren’t enough of them.

  It was bulging, to say the least.

  “I need to fuck you to stay alive?” I asked.

  “What?” he asked and his finger stayed right where it was.

  “They say I need to have sex with a Phallyx man within three days to stay alive, so I don’t get that flu. But if I do this, if I do this, it’s because I think you’re handsome and nice and an amazing kisser and because I don’t wanna die, especially not on a foreign planet, but I’m not sure I’m ready to h
ave a baby with someone I don’t really know yet and I’ve had some sort of aphrodisiac, like you, uh, said, and the way you’re rubbing on me the aphrodisiac is totally not necessary, so uh… do you have a condom or something? I’ll help you break that dry spell. But no strings.”

  He tilted his head at me, looking perplexed, “You speak fast with many strange words, little beauty.”

  “Shit. If there’s a condom I won’t get the antibody. But they gave me something to make me ovulate? Shitbuggerdamn. Forget it, we can’t do this.” I tried to squirm away but he wouldn’t let me go.

  “Hang on, baby.”

  “Let me up before I let you spear me with that sword without even caring if I get pregnant.” I pushed. He didn’t budge.

  “Jetta, settle.” He said and got up off me, his hand leaving my panties. He fetched our drinks and then got back in the bed, crawling on his knees further up. It was big enough in here for half a dozen people to stretch out comfortably.

  I took a sip of the wine he’d passed me. Oh wow. This was good. Like a cross between apple juice and white grape juice but slightly carbonated and not as sweet. It was light and delicate.

  “Oh wow. This is delicious.” I took another sip. A big one.

  He smiled, “Thank you. It’s from my winery. I can have you without getting you pregnant.”

  “You can?” I took another swallow and the warmth that washed through my chest was heavenly.

  He nodded, “I take it that’s not the case where you’re from.”

  “No. Not at all. You can save me from that flu bug?”

  He made a face.

  “What? You can’t do both? They said we need your, uh, fluids. Sorry. That sounds gross.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” His eyes twinkled.

  My face went hot. I took another sip of the wine. It felt like it was going right to my head. And my pussy. I was seriously horny right now. This gorgeous alien wanted me. He could kiss. He could talk dirty. He had firm hands that knew what they wanted. And at the moment, they wanted me.

  “Why are you so worried about getting pregnant? I won’t. I’d rather it be just me and you for at least a little while.”

  I stared.

  When he didn’t explain, I said, “I don’t understand. You can decide when I’m pregnant? You mean by the pull and pray method, right? ‘Cuz that doesn’t always work. My friend Jeannie’s man swore it did and he got her pregnant with twins when we were 17. So, it really really didn’t work in that case.”

  “Pull and pray?” He looked at me like I was off my rocker.

  “Yeah, pull out before you… you know.”

  “Before I…” he was quizzical.

  “Before you come.”

  “Come?”

  “Before you ejaculate. And then pray that no swimmers escaped.”

  Language and cultural barrier. I needed to think about that, speak explicitly. Maybe they didn’t call ejaculating ‘coming’ in their language.

  He laughed, “Why would I pull out of you before I ejaculate?”

  “So I don’t get pregnant. You know, the swimmers. Then again, I need that antibody.” I chewed my nail.

  “Earth men clearly have no command over their fertility.”

  “Uh, no. Not if they come, they don’t have control.”

  “Come?”

  “Blow their load. Their jizz. Come. You know.”

  He shook his head like I was funny; he knew what I meant, though. He sipped his whisky and didn’t even try to hide his amusement, “Phallyxian men decide whether they want to get their mate pregnant. They turn on their ability to impregnate a woman. Or not. They also command her fertility, which is why you probably won’t menstruate. The shot you got with the mild aphrodisiac and that triggered ovulation? That ovulation trigger shot is a one-time deal. We don’t even think it’ll be necessary.”

  “You’re fucking with me, right?” I laughed and took a sip of my wine.

  He shook his head, “No. no, I’m not. But I wanna be. Fucking with you. Fucking you.” He leaned closer. I scooted away a little.

  “You can give me the antibody and not impregnate me?”

  “If you’re asking me if I can ejaculate inside you without impregnating you, I can do that. And if it makes you feel better, I give you my word I will not do that. I’m not ready to be a father yet. I want you to myself for a while first.”

  “Listen, Daxx. I’m not ready for a relationship. I just got here. And if you watched me on that ship you know full well that I was sent here against my will. If I meet someone where I want to have babies at some point in the future, cool, but for now, if you want just a casual hookup, I’m not usually a casual girl but I like… really really don’t wanna die and between how nice of a kisser you are, how this wine is goin’ right to my head not to mention my punani, and with that Spanish Fly or whatever they gave me, I’m game.”

  “More wine?” he asked me. He hit a button on the wall and a small semi-circular disk was partly ejected as if it were a CD player. He put his whiskey on it and hit some commands on the screen and the machine outside the bed had the bottle of whisky and the bottle of wine appear with a ding that opened a little door as if it were an elevator.

  “Oh, that’s cool,” I said, “And the bathroom? Pretty high tech.”

  He smiled at me, “I’m still learning about your planet but yes, we have quite a few advancements.”

  I fetched my glass and reached for the bottle but he got to it first. I was surprised he wasn’t pouncing after what I’d just suggested.

  As he poured, he cleared his throat and then after I had a sip he asked, “So, am I understanding you accurately in that they’ve advised that Earth women need to have sex with a Phallyxian male in order to avoid the infection that killed our females?” He took a big swig from his glass and passed me mine.

  I tipped it in his direction and took another mouthful and then answered, “Yeah, whatever flu bug took your women here will kill us in three days if we don’t exchange fluids in that, you know, way. They didn’t tell you this? Maybe because you weren’t supposed to be with one of us. Because you’d already found a fiancé. Wait. I wonder if it has to be that way or if a blow job would work.”

  He choked on his whisky with surprise and then I giggled.

  I was getting drunk. This stuff was delicious but evidently rather potent since I’d had so little but was talking like I was tanked.

  “I guess you don’t know the answer to that, either?” I shrugged and sipped the wine.

  He was staring at me, a strange look on his face.

  “If this wasn’t what you were told, would you be willing to do this with me here and now?”

  I smiled, “You’re a handsome guy. You’re sweet, too. But I just got here. I’d probably wanna go on a few dates and get to know you a bit first. Why? Are you about to tell me that I don’t need to have sex with you to not die?” I chuckled and sipped my wine.

  He sipped his whisky and opened his mouth to speak but I spoke first.

  “I think this is making me drunk,” I informed him before he answered my question, “It doesn’t taste too strong but maybe it’s the altitude. If there’s even altitude differences. Or me adjusting to your atmosphere. Or whatever. How different is it from the atmosphere at home? It smells so healthy here. So fresh and clean. God, your wine makes me gabby.”

  A noise started sounding. A weird chiming noise. And it startled me.

  Daxx lifted that computer mouse-shaped device from his pocket, looked at the display, and sighed.

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  “One syllable,” I noted, “And the right lip motion.”

  “Hm?” He looked at me quizzically.

  “Sometimes, when you say things, your lips either keep moving once the sound in my ears stops or they’ve stopped moving before the sound finishes. When you just said fuck, your lips looked like you said fuck. Earlier they moved twice when you said fuck but right now, just once.”

  “I did say f
uck,” he said with a smirk and the last lip movement actually looked like the word ‘Fuck.’

  I laughed, “Maybe some things are universal.”

  “I think you’re probably right.”

  His phone or whatever started to make that noise again.

  “Is someone calling you?” I asked because his eyes were still on me.

  “Someone’s at the door.”

  He sat for a second with a look of distaste on his face.

  “Well?”

  He looked at me expectantly.

  “Aren’t you gonna go see who it is?”

  “I know who it is.”

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “It shows right here.”

  He flashed the screen at me and I saw two men and his father plus an extremely beautiful and very tall woman. She looked a bit like Milla Jovovich, but extremely tall. At least 6 foot 3, maybe even taller.

  She was dressed shoulders to thighs in a coat made of pink fur. Fuchsia pink, like the screaming bunny thing. Maybe it was made of screaming bunny things. (Maybe that was why that thing screamed at me.)

  She had on delicate cream-colored gloves and the coolest cream boots I had ever seen. They had a high slim heel, rhinestone-looking studs up the sides, and they looked plush. She had rich dark shampoo commercial curly hair that fell to her elbows.

  “Who is she?”

  “The woman I’m about to end a non-relationship with. And judging by her face, she already knows this.”

  “Oh.” I looked at the image some more. She looked upset. The group moved away from the door and the screen went blank.

  “Where did they go?”

  “Likely to another door since I’ve barred that inner door.”

  We watched and it wasn’t long before the screen flashed and they were again on screen at the side of the house. That woman crouched and lifted something. One of my shoes.

  This was weird. Really weird. He was engaged to someone who looked like Milla Jovovich and I’m always told I look like Mila Kunis.

  I looked at Daxx. The real Milla and Mila would likely swoon at him, too. He was a bonafide catch. And an amazing kisser. He was a catch in every way from what I could figure out so far. If I were her, I’d be pretty upset at being dumped for an alien chick, too.

 

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