When She's Ready: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance Novella

by Dixon, Ruby

  “It doesn’t. I’m merely curious about my mate.” And he lifts my hand to his mouth as if he’s going to nibble on my fingertips.

  I snatch my hand out of his grasp, because the flush in my cheeks has moved lower, and my entire body feels lit up with arousal. “This is a marriage of convenience.”

  “And?” He smiles.

  “Sex isn’t supposed to be on the plate.”

  “But it is now.” And he gives me another confident smile, as if it’s already been decided.

  Suddenly nervous, I try to think of a way around this, a way to keep control. “No sex until I’m ready, then.”

  “Done,” he says, just as quick to agree.

  “Wait,” I say, panicked. He can’t agree just like that. “I might not be ready for a long time. Maybe ever.”

  Tassar reaches out and takes my hand in his again. He turns it palm up, and then traces one big finger down the center of my palm. I feel that small touch all the way to my core and have to bite back a gasp. “Then it’s my job to make you ready.”

  Part II

  TASSAR

  Two hours later, we leave the registrar’s office, our names recorded as “Leilani, human refugee, and her mesakkah mate, Tassar.” The license is electronically approved and filed by Lord va’Rin’s bored clerk and he doesn’t even so much as ask for identification checks beyond a thumb print. I had mine repatterned after I escaped to hide my identity, and if the clerk had bothered to check deeper, he’d have noticed that my records are rather alarmingly blank. But he just yawns, wishes us luck, and then schedules a follow-up at Leilani’s farm a week from today.

  “A follow-up?” I ask my female—since she’s mine now. “Why a follow-up?”

  “Because my safety is important,” she tells me. “They’re going to make sure you’re not abusing me, that’s all.” Leilani gives me a pert look. “The moment you lay a finger on me, I’m poisoning your food, just so you know.”

  I chuckle. “What if it’s a good finger?” I flirt. “And you want it laid on you?”

  I like the way her cheeks darken and her expression gets flustered. It’s clear this little human doesn’t have much experience with men. “You know what I meant. Don’t pretend to misunderstand.”

  “I would never hurt a female,” I tell her, and I mean it. The thought is sickening. “You are safe with me.”

  “Unless you want sex,” she replies tartly, not looking in my direction as she approaches her vehicle, an air-cruiser with a large bed for hauling goods. “Then I’m not safe.”

  “Not until you’re ready,” I remind her. “That’s what we agreed on.”

  “You’re going to be waiting a long time,” Leilani says.

  I don’t mind. I want her to be comfortable around me. If it takes a week, or a month, or a year, I’m content to wait. After all, I just escaped a prison and before that, a prisoner of war camp on an alien planet. Sex hasn’t been high on the list of demands in a long, long keffing time. I can be patient.

  But I will have her eventually. Even now, as we get into the cruiser, I’m memorizing things about her for the next time I jerk my cock. I watch as she gets into the air-cruiser and taps the button for the programmed route with a delicate touch. I watch as she tucks a long strand of hair behind one fascinatingly small ear. And I watch as she starts to talk.

  Now I see why she wanted that as a rule.

  For the entire, hours-long ride back to her farm, Leilani talks. At first, she points out each farm we pass, who lives there and what sort of crops they are growing. Then she talks about her vehicle, and how it was part of the package she was given when she was gifted her land, and how she only knows how to operate a few buttons. Then she talks about the weather on Risda, and how it compares to her home, which is a place on her planet called Hawai’i. She talks about how she misses the water and the trees. She talks about the stars and how different they look, and how many alien races she’s met. She talks about the other humans that have settled on this planet.

  She talks. And talks. And talks. There’s not a moment of silence that passes between us that Leilani’s not filling with words of some kind. At first I think she’s just nervous, but as the hours pass and she relaxes, I realize she just likes talking.

  It’s keffing adorable, and every time she gives a self-conscious little laugh, my cock hardens in response. I’m picturing me on top of her, sinking my cock into her tight cunt, and her talking out just how it feels, and the mental image makes my dick as hard as metal.

  “We’re here,” she calls out, distracting me from my study of her as she gestures at the windshield of the cruiser. “All of the protein-synth plants are mine. They look kind of like the corn they grew back at home, but apparently it’s a protein-based plant product and I’m supposed to grow it for cash. I also have fifty head of meat-stock.” She leans over to me and charmingly says, “We called them animals back home.”

  “I see,” I say, trying not to grin. As if I have never heard of the word “animals.” The cruiser comes to a stop in front of the small house, and she gives me a suddenly wary look, as if just now realizing that she’s here alone with me and there’s no one around for leagues and leagues. I don’t like the unease on her face, so I say, “Mind if I take a look around?”

  Maybe if I show more interest in the farm she’ll be less anxious about my interest in her. Truth is, I like the thought of a farm, but it’s become secondary to my interest in Leilani.

  “Absolutely! Take a look around, get to know the place, and I’ll be inside.” She flashes me a bright smile and then practically races into the house to get away from me.

  I bite back my laughter and watch her go, then access the air-cruiser’s control panel. Sure enough, the chips on the energy drive look fried, and I wonder if someone sold her a cheap piece of garbage because she wouldn’t know better. While it was driving, I noticed a few alarming warning lights on the dash but I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t want her to feel as if I was intruding. I’ll fix this for her later. For now, I want to get a good look at the farm.

  Actually, I mostly want to go back inside and drink in the scent of my female, but for now, I’ll look at the farm.

  * * *

  LEILANI

  * * *

  “He’s so sexy, I don’t know what to do,” I tell the plates as I wash them in the sink. The plates don’t answer, which is fine. I mostly like hearing the sound of my own voice. I dip another into the water and absently scrub it. “Chloe said this would be good for me and that he’d keep me safe, but I don’t know what I was thinking. He’s going to live here. With me. We’re going to be married.”

  I think of the hot way he looked at me, as if he was imagining me without my clothes on, and a little shiver runs up my spine. It was one thing to picture myself marrying some stranger just to protect the farm, and another to actually bring him home. Suddenly my small farm house with its space-age plastic walls and bright, cheery windows and tiny, tiny rooms doesn’t seem big enough. There’s a living room, a dining and kitchen area, and two rooms. There’s one bathroom, which means we’re going to have to share, and I’ve already set up the second room as a guest bedroom for him.

  But he’s not a guest. He’s my husband.

  I swallow nervously and wonder what the customs are for his people. Do they have wedding nights? Is he going to expect one? I told him I had to be ready for sex, but the truth is…parts of me are pretty darn ready already. In fact, parts of me are definitely heated up and slick with need, and I feel the insane urge to lock the doors, hide away in my bedroom, and masturbate furiously until I get myself under control again.

  “Nope, we are not gonna do that,” I say aloud. I put the dishes on their drying rack, finish tidying the kitchen, and then head to the guest bedroom. It’s little more than a cubby with a small, narrow bed that doesn’t seem big enough for a man of Tassar’s stature. “Of course, he’s not a man,” I correct myself. “He’s a mesakkah. They’re different. They’ve got
horns, and tails, and three great big fingers and a thumb and…now I’m thinking dirty things about his great big fingers. Bad Leilani.”

  I grab one of the pillows and fluff it with a few rough slaps. Everything the aliens use is synthetic and not made from animal products, so the filling of the pillow itself just molds itself to my hands and makes the whole “fluffing” thing useless. I feel better after slapping it around a little, though. “You’re next, blankets,” I tell them. “I don’t know if his planet gets as chilly as this one at night, but he’ll be grateful to have you if he sleeps nude.” I pause. “And now I’m thinking about him nude. Damn it, damn it, damn it.”

  My brain is really on a roll tonight. Viciously, I tuck in a corner of the blanket under the self-molding mattress and I give it a hard thump. “You’re just going to have to do, bed. I don’t care that he’s seven feet tall and built like a big blue god. He’s sleeping here and I’m not changing my mind. Period.”

  “Not changing your mind about what?”

  I scream, jumping and turning to see Tassar in the doorway. “You scared the shit out of me!”

  “I wanted to see who you were talking to.”

  “Oh. No one. I just talk to everything. The meat-stock, inanimate objects, you name it. Sometimes it gets lonely out here, so I talk to hear conversation.”

  “I see.” He leans against the door, seven feet of casual alien elegance, and it makes his tunic stretch tight over those fantastic, broad shoulders. Oh man. Now I’m looking at his shoulders.

  “Why is that bad?” He looks down at himself and I realize I said that aloud.

  “It’s not,” I blurt out, thinking quickly. “I was just wondering how you were going to fit in your bed.” And I pat it.

  He tilts his head, then rubs a big hand over the dark black stubble on his scalp. “I thought since we were married we would be sleeping together.”

  “Um…”

  Tassar just grins at me. “Not until you’re ready, right?”

  I could melt at the sight of that gorgeous smile. It doesn’t even matter that he has a pair of inhuman-looking fangs. They just look…delish.

  Man, I am hard up for some sex.

  “Not until I’m ready,” I tell him firmly, and give his pillow one more smack.

  * * *

  LEILANI

  “Wake up, little one,” a deep, liquid voice tells me. “Wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”

  I jerk awake, my heart pounding, and stare up at the man looming over my bed. Even though he has dark blue skin and horns, there’s something comforting about the sight of him that chases away any of the shadows lingering in my mind. I rub a hand over my eyes. “Wh-what are you doing here, Tassar?”

  “I heard you talking,” he murmurs, and the bed shifts, sinking down on one side as he climbs in next to me. “I figured you were asleep, though. Then you started arguing and crying out, and I thought I’d come wake you up. I hope I didn’t intrude.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I manage, a little disoriented. A quick glance at the window tells me that it’s still night. “Thank you for waking me up.”

  One big arm slides around my shoulders and he pulls me against him. Suddenly, my cheek is pressed to warm, hard pectorals and I realize he’s bare chested. He’s lying atop the blankets, which is thoughtful, but then I find myself wondering if he’s completely naked. I squeeze my eyes shut, determined not to look down just in case my mouth starts making decisions for me.

  Bad, bad Leilani’s mouth.

  “Do you often have bad dreams, or am I causing it?” Tassar asks, his hand sliding down my arm. I’m wearing a sleep tunic made of thin material, but for a moment, I wish I was as bare-chested as he is so he could touch skin.

  “No, I have bad dreams,” I say. “I have ever since I was taken from Earth. They’re mostly about my old master. He…wasn’t a nice man. And he liked quiet a little too much.”

  “Which is why you talk,” he agrees easily, his hands rubbing comforting patterns against my skin.

  “Yeah. Silly, I know, but when you’re deprived of something for a long time, when you get it again, you’re addicted.”

  “Oh, I know,” Tassar murmurs, and then I feel like an ass. He was in a prison. Of course he knows about being deprived of things. I want to ask him what he’s been deprived of, but I don’t dare.

  “Thank you for checking on me,” I tell him again, and put a hand on his chest to push away…and then I stop. Is he…fuzzy? When I touch his skin, it’s a bit like touching velour. “Are you soft everywhere?”

  “That’s not exactly what a male wants to hear with a woman in his arms.”

  “Your skin. That’s what I meant.” Now I’m blushing again.

  “I could say the same about your skin,” he tells me, and I realize he’s brushing his thumb against the collar of my tunic, touching the base of my neck. It feels so good and so welcome that I don’t even mind. How long has it been since someone touched me in a pleasant way? Far too long. I relax against him, and even though I keep telling myself that it’s a bad idea, I run my fingers over the hard planes of his belly. He’s just so…pettable.

  Who knew that this fascinatingly blue skin was so very velvety? It makes me wonder what other surprising things there are about him.

  Tassar’s thumb grazes my neck again. “Better now?”

  “I think so.”

  “Then I’d better leave.”

  “Of course.” Right. I told him I didn’t want him in my bed until I was ready. A couple of touches and a few hours shouldn’t change my mind. “Thank you,” I tell him. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

  He grunts. “Sure. We’ll call it thoughtfulness.”

  And when he leaves my bed, I notice two things—one, that he’s wearing pants, and two, that they’re stretched tight across the mouthwateringly huge erection he’s sporting.

  The door closes behind him and I stare up at the ceiling instead of falling back asleep. I should go back to bed, but instead, I think about his body and just how long it’s been since I’ve had sex.

  This is a marriage of convenience, Leilani, I remind myself. If you start having sex with him, it’s no longer about your convenience but his.

  I hate it when my brain is right.

  * * *

  TASSAR

  I wake up early and head out into the fields. I grew up on a farm, but it’s been a long time, so I decide to get to know the land and the equipment. The animals are fed with programmed machines, and their stalls cleaned and scraped regularly. The protein-synth plants are maintained by small drones that spray a natural pesticide and eliminate weeds. Very little of the “farming” is done by hand anymore, but there’s more than enough equipment that needs to be maintained, and all of it looks like it could use a good going-over. I start with the drones, oiling rotors and changing out filters, adjusting spray nozzles and then sending them on their way back into the endless fields of Leilani’s crops. It doesn’t take long before the sun is high overhead, the air warming up quickly. I’m sweating as I work, but it’s a good sweat. Working on a farm towards a shared future with Leilani is satisfying work. It sure beats breaking rocks in a POW camp or fixing the terraforming machines back at the prison.

  I look up at the blue sky, dotted with fluffy clouds, and feel a hint of a breeze on my face. I close my eyes, just enjoying the sheer…freedom of this place. As far as the eye can see, there’s nothing but crops, grazing animals, and endless horizons. I love it. It’s invigorating, and I can see growing old here, surrounded by the quiet. I’ve had enough of wars and the endless noise of society. I like that it’s quiet and isolated here.

  It’s when I’m replacing the last of the drones in the field that I notice tracks in the soft, reddish-brown dirt. They’re boot tracks, with a split at the top indicating that the wearer has two toes, and the track itself is twice as big as Leilani’s small foot would be. Someone else has been here. I straighten, looking around. My senses are instantly on alert. The tracks co
ntinue on between the rows of crops, heading east, and I follow them, gripping the screwdriver in my hand tightly. I’ve killed other soldiers and gotten into a fair amount of fights back in the prison. I thought I’d leave that life behind, but the adrenaline roaring in my ears tells me that once a warrior, always a warrior. The need to protect Leilani is real and urgent. I won’t let anyone threaten her, and if I have to bury a body in the fields and hide the evidence, so be it.

  The tracks continue on for a time, and then I see an electronic marker, mounted to a metal post. It beeps as I approach, indicating the edge of Leilani’s property and where her neighbor’s fields begin. I scan the horizon and my body stiffens at the sight of two large figures standing atop a nearby hill, watching me. From their narrow shoulders, slim height and smooth reptilian heads, I know that they’re Ssithri. Do they think they can take my female’s property?

  Do they think they can take my female?

  I’m growling low in my throat as I clench the screwdriver in my hand. The two watch me for a moment, and then leave, retreating, and my grip relaxes. There’s no confrontation today, then. Leilani needs to know she’s being watched, though. She needs to be careful in case her neighbors intend on trying something. I might not be the only convict hiding out in the outer rim.

  I need to make sure she’s safe and protected. I’ll talk with Leilani, make sure we have an understanding, that she’s not to leave the house without checking in with me first so I can protect her. I’m willing to bet that her neighbors will ease off when they find out she’s married and they can’t claim her or her land, and some of the tension in my shoulders eases. I realize just how keffing hot the day is, and I haven’t brought water with me.

  Time to head back to the house.

  I take a different route through the rows of crops, looking for more footprints, but there aren’t any, and they don’t come close to the house, which makes me feel better. By the time I get inside, I’m covered in sweat, my scalp itching, and I pull at the thin fabric of my tunic that’s sticking to my skin. The interior of the house is cool, and the smell of food baking in the oven greets me as I enter. There’s no sign of Leilani, though, and when I head toward the lone washroom, I hear the shower running.