Karak Warrior: An Alien Shifter Sci-Fi Romance (Alien Shapeshifters Book 2)

by Ruby Ryan

  I was happy, and I never thought I could be.

  24

  LESLIE

  "I never thought I'd see your face again!"

  Joanna stared back at me on the computer screen, eyes wide with surprise and excitement. God, it felt good to see her again! She had a glow about her, extra color in her cheeks.

  She was happy.

  "Same goes for you," I said.

  "Is... is it safe?" she asked, smile disappearing. "If those conspiracy nuts see our communication..."

  I waved a hand. "It's all encrypted. Spent a few hours figuring out how, but it's safe. Plus, we're not in Elijah."

  "You're not?" Joanna blinked and added, "Who is we?"

  The next few minutes were fun, telling her everything that had happened in the past month. Two weeks on earth with Jerix, a week traveling to Karak and living on the planet with my Karak warrior. And then a slow two week return.

  "And here I thought I was the crazy one," Jo muttered. "Leslie, do you know what this means? You're the first human to visit another planet! Hell, another galaxy!"

  "I had the same thought a few weeks ago," I nodded. "Too bad it won't be in the history books."

  "Is that what you want?" Jerix came up behind and wrapped his arms around my chest. "Fame?"

  I gave a nonchalant shrug. "I guess I'll settle for love instead."

  "You'd better!"

  Jo shook her head in wonder. "Two for two."

  "Pardon?"

  "Karak men are two for two when it comes to falling in love with humans. Batting a thousand. Are you sure Karak scouts are forbidden from mating?"

  Jerix forced his way into the view of the camera. "I would turn that around: women from Elijah, Wyoming are two for two in seducing innocent, loyal Karak scouts. You're like the sirens of Homer's Odyssey, luring poor aliens to your beds."

  "He's been reading a lot of history," I explained.

  "They're sponges for the stuff," Jo said.

  "Speaking of them, where's your alien boyfriend?"

  "He's out fishing. You'd think an alien scout would need more intellectual stimulation, but Arix loves sitting out on the lake in peace."

  "Peace away from the Dominion is a feeling we are still getting used to," Jerix said over my shoulder. "By the way. The Dominion will be visiting earth in force soon. A formal contact mission, to allow our two civilizations to meet."

  If Jo was surprised by that, she didn't show it. "Soon by our standards, or yours?"

  "Good question," I said, "but we aren't really sure. We'll see. Hopefully not too soon. Jerix and I still have our little alien honeymoon to enjoy."

  "So where are you enjoying your honeymoon?" Jo asked. "Are you gunna pay us a visit here sometime soon? We'd love to have you. It's your old land, anyways."

  Even though the connection was encrypted, I was hesitant to tell Jo where we were. "We will come visit, maybe in another month. I promise I'll tell you all about it then."

  Jo crossed her arms and said, "Fine, be secretive."

  "As a former cop, I know when to keep my mouth shut."

  We shared a quiet smile across our digital connection.

  "Well I'm gunna go get Arix for supper," Jo finally said. "Call whenever you want. And give me a heads-up before you do come visit, so we can spruce the place up."

  We said our goodbyes, and then the screen went dark.

  Jerix wrapped his arms around me from behind again, and I leaned into him. Our own little alien honeymoon. It really did feel like that, even though we'd known each other just a month. It felt like we'd been in love forever, and that it was our bodies that were late to the show.

  I guess when you know, you know.

  I stood and kissed Jerix, first in loving companionship, but then with deeper lust. He ran his hands down the curve of my hips, grabbing a handful of my round ass through my silk dress.

  "You want me?" I purred, though I knew the answer. "Take me."

  I squeaked as he twisted me around, bending me over the desk. We'd never done it this way before, and I loved the way he handled me. Like I was his. I grinded my ass back against him, and by the sound he made in his throat it drove him wild.

  "Take me," I repeated, reaching back to caress his chest.

  His pants were around his ankles instantly, and then he was hiking up my dress. I quivered with anticipation as he rubbed his tip against my slit, which was already soaked at the thought of him inside of me. I reached between my legs and guided him in, slowly at first, savoring the intensity of the angle.

  "Ohh Leslie," Jerix moaned, a vice-like grip on my hips.

  I could feel the desperate lust in his body; he couldn't hold himself back, he had to make love to me quickly, or else he might explode. He pumped into me, never taking his hands from my hip, and I bent over farther to give him a better angle.

  "Yes," he groaned, "yes, YES!"

  He quivered and came, pushing as deep as he could inside me, filling every inch of me with his love. I trembled with him and bathed in his pleasure, the satisfaction of knowing I could drive him to completion with only a few thrusts.

  "So I guess you're an ass man," I said, pushing my hips up against his body. He squeezed my left cheek.

  "It helps that you have such a wonderful one."

  I pulled away from him, feeling hollow without him filling me. I turned around and kissed him. "You don't exactly have a wide experience to draw from."

  "I don't need one." He grinned. "You are beautiful from that position. Your back and shoulders arch magnificently."

  "Speaking of that, what made you try that?"

  His face scrunched. "Did you not enjoy it?"

  "Oh, no! I loved it. I love you every way." I kissed his cheek to show him I meant it. "I just thought your lack of experience meant I'd be the one to show you every trick."

  He grinned a conspiratorial grin. "I've been doing some research."

  "More than just reading Homer's Odyssey?"

  "Your human internet is full of sexual research," he admitted. "There are thousands of methods, and positions, of human mating!"

  "Oh God, the alien's been watching porn," I muttered. "Don't judge humanity on what you see there. Porn isn't exactly reality." I gave him a wicked grin. "But I do want to try every position out with you."

  I could see the gears turning in his head.

  "But not right now." I left him and went to the window, throwing open the curtains. The streets of Rome were bustling with activity at that time of day, and the skeleton of the Roman Coliseum rose above the red-tiled rooftops in the distance. "If this is our alien honeymoon, I want to do some sight-seeing."

  "Whatever you want to do, I will follow," he said, and I knew he wasn't just talking about our honeymoon.

  "Come on. The tour of the Coliseum starts in twenty minutes."

  "Are you certain I will not be forced to fight in it?" he asked.

  "Oh, I promise. Though I can't promise not to daydream about it. You make a sexy looking Roman gladiator."

  He sat on the bed and began putting on his shoes. "It will be nice to view such a place from the outside."

  I slipped on my own flats and grabbed him by the hand. "Come on, my Karak warrior."

  We fled out into the Roman streets, human hands interlocked, unable and unwilling to let go of one another.

  KARAK INVASION, the third book in the Alien Shapeshifters series, is coming soon! Click here to buy it when it's available, or keep reading for a special preview!

  1

  BRANDI

  I ran as if my life depended on it.

  My legs burned and my heart pumped acid as I pounded along the ground. My form was falling apart, but I didn't care; I just needed to get another hundred feet and then it would be over. My chest ached with inadequate oxygen, screaming at me to stop.

  But I pumped my arms, and kept my eyes straight ahead, and tried not to focus on anything else.

  "Time," the speaker from my Garmin watch chirped. "One hour, thirty-four min
utes, nineteen seconds. Distance: thirteen point one miles..."

  I pulled up and allowed myself to slow down, then put my hands on my hips because if I did anything else I'd probably bend over and retch all over the path. I'd missed my personal record by 15 seconds. Goddamnit.

  Still, my body felt wonderful, and it was a gorgeous morning in the Idaho foothills. The Sawtooth mountain range stabbed at the blue sky to the right, with snow still spotted along the surface even though it was April. The breeze that rolled out of the west stirred the tufts of hair that had come loose from my ponytail, and the rising sun warmed my arm and neck.

  I walked the mile back to Mountain Home Air Force Base to cool down, waving at the sentry in the guard tower. He stuck his head out.

  "How'd you do, sir?"

  "Hour and thirty-four," I said, shaking my head.

  "Aww. Just missed thirty-three?"

  "By nineteen seconds.

  "You'll get it next time, sir."

  "I'm not letting it bother me," I called. "It's gunna be a good day!"

  A cluster of Airmen jogged along the fence to my left. Most pilots weren't allowed to exit the base except when on leave, meaning they had to run around the perimeter of the fence for several boring laps. Being a Lieutenant Colonel had its perks in that regard; running along the trails next to the Snake River was one of the few luxuries I truly needed. I hurried along so the men and women coming my way wouldn't have to stop their morning workout to salute.

  In the old days, when I was an active pilot, I'd needed to wake up early to get my morning run in before shift duty. It was either that or do it late at night, but by then I was usually too exhausted, and doing it in the morning helped me feel fresh for the day. But as the Support Group Commander, which was essentially the deputy to Air Base Wing Commander Jonathan Elliot, I didn't have such restrictions anymore. I could make my own schedule. Force others to bend their days around my will.

  But there was something about getting out there early, watching the sun rise over the mountains and sucking in the cool morning air before anyone else.

  The officer's housing was next to the base golf course: neat little houses all in a row with exactly two trees in the front yard on either side of the sidewalk leading to each door. I strode into mine, gulped down a glass of ice water, and then brewed a cup of coffee.

  Not waiting for it to cool, I carried it into the bathroom and began my morning routine, every item of which held exaggerated importance today.

  Shower. Conditioner, shampoo, soap.

  Ten minutes drying my hair while reviewing the resumes I'd taped to the mirror. Then pulling my hair up into a bun that would fit underneath my uniform side cap.

  Drinking the rest of my coffee before I got dressed.

  Putting on underwear, then the dress shirt that would go underneath my uniform.

  And finally, peeling away the dry-cleaning plastic from my outer uniform in the closet. I took a moment to admire it the way I always did, a conscious appreciation of the two decades of work needed to get there, before pinning my LC insignia to the shoulders. Sometimes I felt like I didn't deserve the silver oak leaves, that it should be a Captain's bars instead, but today they filled me with pride.

  Base Commander Elliot was on leave, which meant the base was mine.

  And more importantly, it meant I had actual work to do.

  As I strode back out into the morning sunlight with a stack of folders under one arm, I thought about the officer interviews I'd be conducting. Usually being the Support Group Commander might as well have been called "Queen of Paperwork," on account of that's all Elliot ever gave me: the paperwork he didn't want to do himself. And although I could have delegated it to my own XO, I didn't have much else to do.

  But today? I'd be interviewing officers who were applying for transfers to the 366th Fighter Wing.

  I'd spent the entire week reviewing each candidate's profile. Memorizing names and nicknames, family members and hobbies. Every assignment they'd been given throughout their careers, every tour in every country, and even every negative mark on their record. I felt like an actor who'd memorized an entire script and could recite it on command.

  Opinions had formed, although I hadn't yet met any of the candidates in person. Kara Gutierrez had a flawless record, but was lacking in combat experience. David Schultz was the opposite: a sloppy attitude in his early years, but an exemplary record flying combat missions out of Qatar in Operation Iraqi Freedom. But I suspected he wouldn't adjust well to returning state-side and flying routine Air Superiority patrols over the Pacific Northwest.

  I brushed it off with military discipline. Now was not the time to imagine who these candidates were. Because I'd be meeting them and finding out for myself for the next two days.

  I kept my steps steady as I approached the command building, returned the salute of the guard stationed at the door, and strode inside like I owned the place.

  My office was at the back next to Commander Elliot's. I gave my Executive Officer a polite smile, hoping that my giddiness didn't show on my face.

  "Good morning, sir," he began.

  "When the first candidate arrives, you may send them in right away," I said. "I don't want to be the type of person who makes someone wait just to appear important." That's what the leaves on my shoulder were for.

  "Yes sir, but--"

  "Gutierrez isn't scheduled until the afternoon, but I'm going to dine with her afterwards." I strode into my office, which was spartan with a single desk, two chairs, and a wall of filing cabinets. "So we may need to delay the start of her interview for that."

  "Sir," my XO stepped into the doorway. "The interviews have been canceled."

  I froze with my hand on the first of the four folders.

  "What?"

  "I only just found out myself, sir, when I arrived in the office and checked their flight itinerary. Base Commander Elliot canceled the meetings three days ago, but didn't send word until last night."

  "That doesn't make any sense," I said. "I assumed he scheduled the interviews while he was on vacation because he didn't want to do them himself."

  My XO gave an apologetic grimace. "It appears not, sir."

  I tried to keep the disappointment out of my body, but I knew all it made me look was stiff. "Thank you, Airman."

  "I'm sorry, sir," he said, returning to his desk outside my office.

  I lowered myself into my chair and let out a long, shuddering exhale. My disappointment was a palpable thing; it felt like I'd been stood up for a date. It felt like a mule had kicked me in the chest. I felt a lot of things.

  I looked around my empty desk, wondering what to do with myself.

  When I'd joined the Air Force, all I'd wanted to do was fly planes. It had been all I'd wanted to do since I was a toddler and my grandpa showed me a model of the P-51 Mustang he'd flown in Japan. While other girls played with Barbie dolls, I was building model airplanes with the boys, and attaching cardboard wings to my bike to pretend like I was flying down the steepest hill in town.

  And when I'd finally made it through basic, and got to fly my own... oh man.

  My specialty was the A-10 Warthog. It was like flying a big beautiful garbage truck--that thing could take a thousand bullets and lose one of its engines and somehow still stay in the air. And although I'd missed seeing action in Desert Storm by a few months, I didn't care so long as I got to fly.

  I was good at what I did, and I followed orders, the latter of which was most important in this line of business. The promotions came steadily, and with them I flew less and less, until eventually the only thing I rode was the chair behind a desk.

  It had happened so gradually that I didn't realize it until it was too late.

  There was a satisfaction in doing administrative work. But it wasn't what I wanted. And I'd slowly been realizing that over the past two years.

  I looked out my window. I loved Idaho. It was a gorgeous place to fly, with the jagged mountains in every direction and the bl
uest sky in the country. But holy hell was I bored out of my mind. Base operations were the dullest thing imaginable. An Airman's shift changed by 5 minutes? Paperwork. Supply delivery? Paperwork. New benefits information? Paperwork and paperwork and paperwork, with a follow-up of paperwork for good measure.

  I still got to fly occasionally, but it was an officer's luxury that I had to request, which upended all the existing schedules, and I felt guilty for doing it. Sometimes I daydreamed about turning insubordinate and getting myself demoted. It was rare, but not impossible.

  But of course I couldn't do that. It wasn't who I was.

  Lieutenant Commander Brandi Forbes was born to follow rules. It was why the military had been such a perfect fit for me. Hell, I even avoided admiring the chiseled men who were always marching around the base in uniforms that fit perfectly, unlike the other women on base who occasionally allowed their gazes to drift. And not just because it was improper for someone of my rank. Women had dealt with that shit for so long that I refused to take part on the other end.

  Which, if I'm being perfectly honest, wasn't always easy.

  I looked at the photos on my desk. My parents, my brother Jason. I hadn't dated anyone in close to fifteen years, and even that relationship hadn't lasted long once I was transferred. It wasn't easy finding a date when you ranked higher than all the men around you. And I wasn't the kind of woman to go bar trolling up in Boise. Too impersonal.

  So I sat at my desk, and stared at the empty chair across from me, and wished I wasn't so lonely.

  I'd already completed all the minor work I needed to do in preparation for my meetings today, so I had to find work to do. Double-checking tasks my XO had already completed, and reviewing inventory items two weeks early.

  And then I was browsing the internet, and feeling guilty and pathetic for not doing something more meaningful.

  Other items came up in the afternoon to keep me busy; with Commander Elliot gone, there were some requests that needed to be rubber-stamped. But they were minor, and didn't last long, and I spent most of the day staring at the clock and waiting for the appropriate time to leave without looking lazy.