by Rachel Clark
“So you’re a…?”
“Kobarian.”
Of course the word meant nothing to her, and going by the smirk on his face, the annoying man—the Kobarian—knew it.
She wasn’t really sure what possessed her to ask her next question, but judging by his affronted reaction, she’d insulted him, or at least annoyed the hell out of him.
“Yes,” he ground out through a tightly clenched jaw, “I am the male form of my species.” And then, as if he suddenly realized something she hadn’t, he grinned and lifted her closer, their lower bodies pressing together as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “And I can assure you, Amanda Hasbro, that our species are compatible—very, very compatible.”
“Oh.”
She swallowed nervously as he brushed his thick, hard cock against her soft belly. Oh wow.
* * * *
Almost lost in the sensual torture he’d been planning for her, not himself, Karriak-Sektannen finally managed to pull away. He held tightly to her hand, unwilling to let her retreat despite the fact that he planned not to follow through on what his body wanted.
Judging by the disappointed sigh, he wasn’t the only one wishing for things they couldn’t have.
“To’h,” he practically shouted, “we’ll be in the medical bay.” He clamped his jaw together, trying to get a grip on his wild emotions. Surely this uncharacteristic loss of control was due to his upcoming telkobar and not the sweet, sexy, beautiful woman currently staring at him like he had two heads.
“Of course, sir,” the computer said with all the efficiency of a programmed machine. “Should I close my eyes while you examine her?”
“To’h, knock it off,” Karriak-Sektannen said, using the newly downloaded colloquialisms of twenty-first-century Earth.
“Are you sure, sir?” To’h asked politely. “Earthlings seem to have had an extraordinary number of words and innuendos for what you two are about to do.”
The woman beside him stiffened at the computer’s words, but he noticed with grim satisfaction that she wasn’t objecting. She’d already started breathing harder, her eyes had darkened, and the sweet smell of her arousal floated around her.
“To’h,” Karriak-Sektannen said, making deliberate eye contact with Amanda, “Amanda and I are going to the medical unit to make certain she was not affected by her trip through the time fracture. That is all.”
“If you say so, sir.”
“To’h, we’re not going to have sex.”
“Uh-huh,” the computer said sarcastically.
“Damn it, To’h. Enough! Just run a diagnostic on the medical scanner and then shut down. I’ve had about as much of your brand of conversation as I can take today.”
“What-e-ver,” To’h said in what seemed to be an imitation of a smart-ass human. “Have fun.”
* * * *
Amanda couldn’t even begin to hide the smirk covering her face. She was almost certain now that she’d crashed her test craft somewhere and was having delusions. No way in hell was she standing in the middle of an alien spacecraft, listening to a giant of a man—a Kobarian man at that—argue with a computer program. Obviously she’d broken her brain.
He gave her an exasperated look before gripping her hand harder and practically dragging her from what seemed to be the cargo bay and into the ship proper.
“Wow, cool place,” she said, laughing hysterically as she looked around. The interior of the ship even looked like some of her more outrageous imaginings. Nearly every wall was covered in screens and blinking lights and flashing messages. There was a chair that seemed to be big enough for several humans, or perhaps one giant Kobarian, sort of floating in the middle of the room.
“Slightly bigger than the bridge on your ship, huh?” Karriak-Sektannen asked, not slowing down, but apparently just passing through the area to get somewhere else.
“Most definitely,” she said, wondering how badly injured she must be to have such elaborate delusions. “But we called it a cockp—” She cut off the word, not certain she should have touched that subject, but realizing too late that she’d just made things worse. “We call it a cockpit,” she said, quickly trying to hide her gaffe. It’s not like the word had anything to do with sex. It was just the place where the pilot sat as he…or she…hey, hang on a second! Was it the pit where they placed the man and his cock? Damn, aviation really was geared to the male psyche. So not fair!
Karriak-Sektannen was looking at her strangely. “Are you all right?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“Fucking fabulous.”
His eyes widened momentarily at her sarcastic comment, but then he breathed out on a half laugh and grinned happily. “I suppose as unexpected visitors go, at least you’re not boring.”
* * * *
Boring didn’t begin to describe the long, long list of tests her own personal Kobarian helper told her he was about to do. She’d been half expecting to be here for several days, so the donut-shaped X-ray-looking machine that slid over her from head to toe and back again wasn’t all that surprising. What did surprise her, though, was Karriak-Sektannen shaking his head almost sadly, as he told her everything seemed to be fine.
“So why are you disappointed?” she asked, feeling an unreasonable annoyance. He’d just run every scan and blood test known to man, and some she was fairly certain humans had never considered, so she should probably be grateful.
“I’m not disappointed,” he said defensively. “I’m relieved that you are undamaged and will be able to go home as soon as you fix your little ship.”
“Sir, sorry to interrupt,” the computer said, sounding somehow like a stereotypical English butler now, “but I thought you might like to know that the fracture has closed.”
“It what? No, that can’t be right. Check again!”
“Are you that desperate to get rid of me?” Amanda asked, despite the fact that she was eager to get home. What the hell was wrong with her? She was acting like a scorned lover. Hadn’t she decided barely twenty minutes ago that this was all just a delusion?
“What?” Karriak-Sektannen asked, looking annoyed as hell. “No, I’m not desperate to get rid of you.”
“Yes, he is,” the computer added helpfully.
“No. I. Am. Not!” Karriak-Sektannen said, seeming to grind out every word through a tightly clenched jaw.
“So I can stay then?” she asked sweetly.
“It would appear,” Karriak-Sektannen said, his eyes never leaving the screen in front of him, “that at this stage you have nowhere to go.”
“Oh how dreadfully terrible,” the computer said. “You know of course that the increased oxygen will hasten—”
Karriak-Sektannen cut off the computer voice, laughing in triumph when the display screens in the room flashed a rude, human-style gesture over and over.
“It’s better than listening to your constant prattle,” Karriak-Sektannen said to the computer as if it were a real person.
I can still type flashed up onto the screen.
“And if you type one word I find offensive I will definitely be reprogramming your sorry excuse for an artificial intelligence.”
The screen image that flashed up was supposed to be more offensive than the first, but this time it involved a full-grown male monkey. Amanda bit her lip, trying not to giggle at the image. Flinging waste products at one’s opponents seemed very much symbolic of the current argument between man and machine.
“Please excuse my computer. It obviously has no manners programmed into it.”
Amanda was even smiling at him until she realized the computer had likely been trying to tell her something that Karriak-Sektannen didn’t want her to know.
“What will the increased oxygen hasten?”
Karriak-Sektannen dropped his head forward, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Nothing that should concern you,” he said quietly. “Just a personal matter.”
“Oh,” she said, swallowing the urge to demand details
. She couldn’t be certain, with him being an alien and all, but she would have sworn he was blushing. Perhaps “personal matter” really meant personal matter.
“Come on,” he said, helping her off the medical table, his hands lingering just a moment longer than necessary, “let’s go see what we need to do to fix your ship.”
“But if the fracture is closed…” She let the words trail away. If this was just a delusion then it really didn’t matter, but if it wasn’t her brain compensating for terrible injuries then she wasn’t really sure she wanted to know.
If she was 4.4 million years in the past, with no way to get home, did she really want that confirmed?
Chapter Three
Karriak-Sektannen watched the human female work on her ship. The onboard computers and equipment seemed rather primitive, but it was obvious that she knew them intimately. Not once did she ever hesitate or need to check a schematic to know where everything was.
“How long did it take you to build this craft?” he asked, seeing her achievements in a new light. If she was the first in her time to build such a vehicle then she was clearly very intelligent. A person didn’t need to be extraordinary to learn from textbooks and teachers, but it took someone very special to advance beyond that and design things that had never been designed before.
“I’ve been building it most of my life—in one way or another,” she said, rubbing the back of her wrist against her cheek as she took a break and looked over at him. “I’ve always been fascinated by aeronautics and space travel. I spent years researching and designing this craft.” She gave him a sad smile. “I have no doubt it would have flown exactly as planned if Hensworth hadn’t intervened.”
He had no idea what a Hensworth was, but it seemed like a very sore point, and he didn’t want to upset the woman any more for one day.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, finally realizing that she’d literally been working for hours nonstop. She looked like she might say no, but then her stomach rumbled loudly and she gave him a twisted smile.
“I think that’s a yes.”
“Do you have any specific dietary requirements?” he asked as she climbed over the edge of the place she’d called the “cockpit” and turned to face him.
“Not really,” she said, her forehead creasing as she frowned. “Do you share the same diet as humans?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he said, trying to remember the last function he’d visited on Earth more than four million years into the future. The foods had been very similar to what many ate on his home planet, Kobar, but he’d been too distracted by the wishing-he-was-anywhere-else to remember specifics. “To’h should be able to synthesize something suitable.”
“To’h? As in the computer you switched off?”
He winced at the reminder. Hell, his dinner tonight was liable to be even more outrageous than the choc-fudge sundae with chili flakes. “I didn’t really switch it off. I just muted the sound.”
“Will it be mad?” Amanda asked, clearly interpreting his reaction correctly.
“Oh, yes, it will be mad as hell, but I doubt it will take it out on you.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning I won’t be ordering the choc-fudge sundae.”
* * * *
Amanda avoided the choc-fudge sundae, too, even though she could have seriously done with the chocolate hit. What she did order was simply delicious, and ironically, typically human.
“Are you sure you’re not human?” She was seriously heading back toward the delusional assessment—although come to think of it, had she ever actually discounted it? Apparently her overactive imagination didn’t quite stretch to cover alien cuisine. “That was delicious.”
“I’m glad you liked it,” the computer said, sounding rather smug. “I found a whole range of human cookbooks in our database, and thought you might appreciate someone putting your needs ahead of their own.”
Karriak-Sektannen tensed up and glowered at nothing in particular, but didn’t actually comment.
“Thank you, To’h.” She felt a little silly addressing a computer program as if it were a person, but it seemed so very lifelike. “And thank you, Karriak-Sektannen, for the medical tests you did earlier.”
“Ahem, technically that was me, too,” To’h said, sounding put out again.
“Well then,” Amanda said, trying to decide on the best way to ego stroke a computer without insulting the very large man sitting at the table with her, “thank you for everything you’ve both done for me.”
“You’re welcome,” To’h said, sounding delighted. “It is very gratifying to be appreciated.”
“To’h,” Karriak-Sektannen said tiredly.
“Fine. Fine, I’ll shut up now.” And then as if they were two people standing side by side, the computer added in a whisper, “Do you see the way he treats me?”
Another image appeared on the screen, this one unfamiliar to Amanda, but it seemed Karriak-Sektannen got the message loud and clear.
“To’huto!”
The computer made what sounded like a giggling sound and the image changed to that of a sleepy cartoon cow waving goodnight as the moon rose behind it.
“Sleep well, Amanda Hasbro. I’m sure Karriak-Sektannen won’t mind sharing his bed since it’s the only one on board.”
Karriak-Sektannen blushed crimson, and this time she was certain it was from embarrassment. “I plan to sleep on the floor.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered.”
“But—”
“Leave it, sweethear—I mean, Amanda.”
“Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?”
He shook his head. “I’m still getting used to English. The occasional misuse of a word is to be expected.”
She wanted to ask how he mixed up her name with a term of endearment, but intellectual curiosity sidetracked her. “How long have you been learning English?”
“To’h downloaded it to my neural link once we identified when and where you came from.”
“You mean you didn’t know English until I came aboard?”
He nodded.
Wow, from a communication point of view it was a brilliant idea. With so many languages spoken on Earth it would be an extremely marketable product. A person could get rich developing something like that. Unlike space travel that would literally take generations to become profitable from a commercial perspective. Not that she was thinking about the money side of things. She didn’t design stuff for the money. Okay, maybe she was thinking of the money just a little. A person deserved reward for toil after all.
Except that, oh yeah, Karriak-Sektannen was an alien, his computer was probably more advanced than anything she’d ever even imagined, and…well…she was only imagining all of this. Wasn’t she?
“Are you finished?” Karriak-Sektannen asked quietly, interrupting her introspection.
“Um, yes, thanks. It was delicious.”
He smiled as he took her plate and utensils and slid them into something that looked like a drawer that she hoped was a dishwasher of sorts. Hygiene was nothing to mess with—even when one was only dreaming.
“You look tired,” Karriak-Sektannen said as he sat back down. He reached over to touch her face, hesitated, but then did it anyway. “Would you like me to show you where the bed is?”
“What about you?” she asked worriedly. If she wasn’t dreaming, then she was asking a very large alien to sleep on the floor. He simply smiled, took her hand, and led her into an area that seemed to be designated as a bedroom. The bed was the biggest thing she’d ever seen. Not only would it fit both of them, but she could probably fit an entire basketball team in the middle.
“Um, Karriak-Sektannen, I don’t think the sleeping arrangements are going to be a problem. I’ll just sleep on one side and you can sleep on the other.”
He frowned, and for a moment she thought he was going to decline, but then he shrugged instead.
/> “As long as you aren’t offended by it, then I thank you for your concern. I wasn’t really looking forward to sleeping on the floor.”
Considering how big the guy was, sleeping on the floor would be extremely unpleasant. She glanced up at him and for a weird moment got the impression that he’d grown taller. Surely that wasn’t possible. It must have been a trick of the light, or a strange angle, or…something.
“Can I get you anything? I am uncertain of the bedtime rituals for humans from your time. Do you sleep naked, or should I ask To’h to provide you with some sort of covering?”
“I…um…” She really, really wished he hadn’t mentioned the word “naked.” Her libido kicked into high gear as memories of his hard cock pressing against her stomach rolled through her mind. Wow, did it just get way hotter in here? “A sleep shirt or maybe some pajamas would be nice, if you…um…have something like that.”
“To’h?” Karriak-Sektannen asked the computer.
“Of course,” it said with a suspiciously innocent voice. “They’ll be ready in a jiffy.”
Amanda smiled at the computer’s deliberate use of her earlier colloquialism. “Thank you, To’h.”
“You’re welcome,” To’huto said with what seemed to be a “smile” in its voice.
“Your sleepwear will fall into this basket when To’h is finished,” Karriak-Sektannen said, pointing at the space. “I’ll just go check that the rest of the ship is locked down while you get changed and climb into bed.”
“Thank you,” she said as she watched Karriak-Sektannen head out the door. He bumped his head on the top of the doorframe, cursed quietly as he rubbed the sore spot, and then continued on his way.
But as the computer finished creating her clothes and dropped them into the basket, Amanda began to wonder who was playing games. The lace was a deep, rich purple hue and quite fine in its weave, but it was the sheer, silky material and matching G-string that had her groaning.
