by Tracy Lauren
“No, no, Duke—that’s my friend. He’s cool. I saw everything. These guys have been creeps all night and this one just grabbed some girl’s ass.” Carly is by my side, putting her hands on me, checking to see if I am well.
The lead security guard looks to the assaulted female and she confirms Carly’s story, her eyes on me the whole time. I smell her mating arousal, but it does not draw me in. I am much too focused on Carly’s hands wandering over my body.
“Dorran, are you okay?” she asks, grabbing my chin to look closely at where I was hit. “This is bruising. Oh no! It’s all purple!”
“Purple?” I choke, covering my chin. Since the hit didn’t hurt, I have to assume my disguise has been compromised somehow. My true flesh tone is beginning to peek through.
Carly frowns unhappily at the perceived injury. “We should get out of here,” she tells me. “Duke, can you tell Rodney I need to take my friend home to ice this?”
The security enforcer nods, and drags the offending parties from the establishment.
“I think it would be best to go now,” I tell Carly. I cannot let anyone see my true colors, certainly not an entire bar full of people.
She nods sympathetically before taking my hand. “Come on.”
“Wait!” the female I protected rushes to my side and presses a piece of folded paper into my hand. “Give me a call sometime,” she tells me, smiling as if she has some secret she wishes to share.
I do not know what to say in response, so it is lucky that Carly pulls me hurriedly to the door.
Chapter 10
Carly
“I cannot believe you got into a fight,” she says, but there’s no true reprimand in her tone. I do have to scoff a little at her description of the events however. What a sheltered little thing Carly must be.
“I’d hardly call it a fight. No one even bled.”
“Yeah, tell that to the bruise on your chin.”
I shrug. “It will be healed by morning, I assure you.”
She looks queasy as she stares at my chin. “I don’t know, Dorran, looks pretty purple to me.”
And that’s a fact I don’t bother arguing. Beyond this disguise I’m more purple than Carly realizes. Hells, there might even be a few other interesting features to my anatomy that would surprise her…if she were inclined to be interested, that is.
“Ice will help,” she assures. “Hey, but it’s not all bad! You got a number out of it!” She tugs the scrap of bar napkin from my hand, unfolding it. “Are you going to call Leilani?” she asks, mimicking a throaty tone.
“I do not have a device to do so.”
“No cell phone?”
“Unfortunately, no,” I say ruefully. But the truth is, I’m glad. I have no interest in that female. However, maybe Carly did? “You may call her if you like,” I offer, though the suggestion sours my stomach.
“Or I could just lend you my phone.”
I purse my lips and shake my head.
“Not your type?’ Carly questions as we reach the stairs to our domicile.
“No, I suppose not.”
“Then what was all that about back there?”
“I did not like the way those males spoke to you. And the one who touched you…” I trail off, feeling heated by it once more. If Carly had not been behind the safety of the counter, they’d have likely given her even more unwanted touches. He could have grabbed her ass like he did to that other female.
We pause before the door, and Carly gives me a narrow-eyed look. But no matter how hard she tries; she cannot hide her smile. “Are all the guys where you’re from this chivalrous?” she asks.
I rub the back of my neck. “No, I suppose not.”
Fitting her key into the lock, she opens the door and flicks on the light. “I must just be lucky then.”
But it does not feel lucky to me. It feels as if I didn’t do enough. “Where I am from, those males would have been dealt with more severely.”
“Can I give you a tip,” she offers as she sets her keys on the counter. “As your ‘guide to fitting in with the locals’?”
“Yes, please do.” I welcome Carly’s input.
“This male and female business sounds so clinical. There are a lot more casual options to consider when referring to the opposite sex.”
“What do you prefer to be called?”
“Hmm…I suppose I prefer to be called Carly. But if I had to choose, I think maybe ‘ladies’ or ‘women’ sounds more respectful than something like ‘girls.’” She shrugs. “I guess there’s no black and white, though. You just have to get a feel for what the situation calls for.”
“It takes instinct,” I offer, watching Carly fill a bag with ice. Too bad my instincts are telling me to set the bag aside and pull Carly into my arms, if only to breathe in her precious scent. Thing is, I don’t even think it’s the height of her fertility cycle, yet still she smells amazing. A wave of anticipation hits me when I think of how potent it will be when she ovulates. I’ll likely walk around for three days with a constant cock stand. But I rip myself from that train of thought. It is not how one should think of a friend. Especially not a friend who will never be sexually attracted to you.
Carly comes close and presses the ice to my chin gingerly. “That looks really bad, hun.”
I let my hands join hers on the plastic bag. “What is a hun?”
Carly blushes and her hands drop away. She gives a shy smile. “I don’t know, a bartender thing? It’s like a term of endearment that servers use.”
“A term of endearment?” My four hearts skip.
“I probably use it way too much,” she explains casually, taking away some of the hope blossoming in my chest. Carly sighs. “It’s early still, but it’s been a hell of a day. I think I’m going to turn in. You keep ice on that, okay?”
I give her a nod as she heads toward her room, but she stops just before her door. “Hey, I have an extra toothbrush if you need one.”
“A tooth brush?”
“You know, to clean your teeth? Gosh, for as well as you speak English there’re still some language barriers, aren’t there? Here, let me show you.”
Together, we squeeze into the small bathroom and she digs into a glass cabinet hidden behind the mirror.
“What a clever device!” I thrill, taking over the mirrored door, opening and closing the reflective glass that hides the interior shelves.
Carly snorts, looking nearly as amused as I am. “Do they not have medicine cabinets where you’re from?”
I think of how medicine is administered to my people—as a vaccine at sensitive periods of their life span. “Not like this,” I tell her.
“Well, you’ll have to tell me about your country sometime. For now, toothbrush.” She opens a plastic package and passes me a stick with bristles on one end. Looks like something one would use to clean small instruments in the ship’s computer consoles.
Carly must see the hesitation in me and moves onto the next step—adding a blue gel-paste onto her own brush. She offers me the same…laughing when an overly large glob sweeps out onto my brush.
She smiles encouragingly when I look to her however, so I proceed with less caution. Carly takes her brush, puts it into her mouth, and begins scrubbing. It dawns on me that she is cleaning her teeth with this toothbrush. I laugh. What a primitive method for cleaning! But I will do as the locals do. I put my own brush into my mouth and my eyes go wide at the flavor. It is chilling, but with a heat behind it. I nearly spit it out, thinking it has surely gone bad. But Carly brushes her own teeth as if it is the most natural thing in the world. So…I follow along, no matter how unnatural it is.
Eventually, she spits the excess into the sink—and thank the Gods for that. If I’d have had to swallow it, surely I’d be sick.
Carly smiles at me though, like I just accomplished some great feat, so I count it as another successful endeavor in blending in with the human species. “Feel free to use my floss or mouthwash or whatever. There’s shampoo and stuff in the
shower.” She moves as if to leave the bathroom, but then stops short, her expression troubled.
“Ya know, just in case…let me show you how to use everything.” She demonstrates how to turn the water on, manually adjusting the hot and cold to make a blend of the perfect temperature. Personally, I’d just program my favorite settings…but her device does not seem to have a readily available access panel…
“I will be proficient in the use of the facilities now, I am sure of it,” I tell her with a positive and reassuring grin. But she still looks skeptical. And for good measure she leans over the toilet bowl and presses down its lever, watching my reaction.
There is a loud noise and the water quickly dispenses down the hole at the bottom. “Well, look at that! Amazing!”
“Yeah…you just let me know if you have any questions, Dorran. Big or small, okay?”
“I most certainly will.”
She chuffs out a melodic little laugh as she heads to her room. “Ya know, if someone would have told me this is how my day would be ending I’d have never believed it.”
“It has been an exciting turn of events,” I agree, happy to be here with Carly even if she will never return my interest.
“It was nice brushing teeth with you, Dorran.”
“It was indeed. We’ll have to do it again tomorrow.’
“Maybe even twice a day,” she tells me from her doorway, her tone teasing.
“I would like that very much,” I answer seriously, but for some reason it makes her smile falter.
“Good night, roomie.”
“And to you, Carly.”
Chapter 11
Carly
Me: I’m serious, Sarah, he was freaking amazed by the toilet flushing. Like he’d never seen such a thing in his life.
Sarah: You said he was from another country, right?
Me: Yeah, but not a third world one. He’s rich! How does he not know how to flush?
Sarah: Maybe he has a butler who does it for him?
Me: LOL, God, I hope not. That’s a bit too extreme for me.
Sarah: Or maybe he has a fancy bidet and it’s our 1970s bowl that’s hanging him up?
Me: Maybe…still odd though. Right?
Sarah: Who cares! Tell me more about the fight!
Carly: It was less of a fight than it was a domination. Dorran dropped that guy like he was nothing. And when the other dude hit him? He wasn’t even fazed!
Sarah: So hot.
Me: Believe me, everyone thought so. Even though I was standing right there—could have easily been Dorran’s girlfriend—that other chick STILL gave him her number.
Sarah: Shameless!
Sarah: I’ve got to see a picture of this guy.
Me: He’s fucking glorious. He’s got that natural, effortless bed-head look and, I kid you not, his eyes are PURPLE.
Sarah: Whaaa
Me: Swear. And he’s like 6’4 or 6’5 at the least. When he showed up at my door I was 100% sure he was a stripper.
Sarah: Was he really dressed like a cowboy? Or was he just wearing boots or something?
Me: Head to toe. Or hat to spurs, in this case.
Sarah: Spurs?
Me: Left some scratches on the floor too, but for 9k? I let it slide.
Sarah: Well, first thing tomorrow I want that picture.
Me: I’m taking him shopping, so it shouldn’t be too hard to snap a shot.
Sarah: Squeee! I can’t wait! I’m so excited for you, Carly!
Me: Excited? Why?
Sarah: Because you have a hot roomie you’re totally crushing on!
Me: Whoa, there is no crushing. Noooo crushing.
Sarah: Remind me who knows you better than anyone else in the world?
Me: Still no crush.
Sarah: Time will tell, now won’t it?
Sarah and I say our good nights. I toss my phone aside and recline on my bed so I can stare up at the ceiling and wonder about Dorran. He’s handsome alright, chivalrous, and strong too…but also…he’s kind of curious.
I try to imagine a place where medicine cabinets, toilets, and toothbrushes would be foreign. Especially when the person coming from that place has a mountain of cash in his back pocket. My brain keeps going to something nefarious. Or at least back to stripper or drug dealer, but a few minutes alone with Dorran is all the confirmation I need to know that he is none of the above.
So what is he? What’s his story? Didn’t he say he was in town on some kind of business? I’m sure he did, but it seems my attention got stolen by the prospect of three months’ rent paid in full. I sigh, feeling troubled. If this guy’s going to be living with me, I really should know more about him.
Chapter 12
Dorran
“They are far more primitive than I remembered,” I tell Regor. “All of their bathroom devices are antiquated, if not fun to use. With the exception of toothpaste. That felt like consuming poison.”
“Strange practices indeed. Are you sure you don’t wish to cut your losses and try to find a life-mate on one of the tetra worlds?”
I shake my head. “Human females are the loveliest in all the galaxy. Ever since I came here as a boy, I felt that my destiny was here.”
Regor shrugs. “I support you then. But you must fix your face before the human wakes and gets a better look at it.”
“Is it that bad?”
“She might have vision problems if she thinks that is a bruise.”
I bristle. “Her vision is fine, Regor. She just has no other frame of reference. No reason to think I am hiding my true colors from her.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to tell her the truth? She might be able to offer more detailed assistance if she had the full picture.”
“Or she might be frightened. I would not wish to scare Carly.”
“What reason has she for fear?”
“You do not understand, Regor, she is not like us. She does not live in an interplanetary society. Her world is isolated. It would be quite the shock for her to encounter an alien. Especially one that is living in her apartment with her.”
“I suppose, still…seems like it might help you accomplish your goal and that is what’s most important here, is it not?”
“It is important, but I will not cause turmoil in Carly’s life if it can be avoided. She is my roommate, you know. I must take that honor seriously.”
Regor frowns. “What does that convoluted term mean? Are you to mate with her while you share rooms?”
“No, I do not think that is the case…” Or what if it is…? “Carly has made no advances.”
“Probably because you are male. She was looking for a female, was she not?”
“Hm, and what a disappointment I must be in that case.” I dig into my back pocket and pull out the slim case containing the cosmetic aspect of my disguise. I slide the tapered wand out of the case and tap it to my chin a few times.
“Better?” I ask Regor.
“Two more.”
Tap, tap.
“That’s it. You are human again,” my friend says, laughing. “Tell me, what does tomorrow hold for you? Will you work to find your mate?”
“Tomorrow Carly will take me shopping to find more appropriate clothing.”
“What’s the problem with what you’re wearing now?”
“I get the impression that it’s wrong somehow. Carly will help me.” I don’t tell Regor I was accused of looking like a criminal; he would find the notion all too amusing.
“And then you will search for a mate?” I also don’t tell him a female requested that I call her.
“Of course,” I say, but the reality is I can’t help but simply look forward to spending the morning with Carly.
Chapter 13
Carly
“Good morning!” I call from the kitchen when I hear Dorran come out. He stumbles into the room, raking his messy hair. “I made coffee—” I start, but I’m suddenly dumbstruck when I see him.
Dorran is wearing nothing but his boxer
briefs. His…glove-like boxer briefs, that leave nothing to the imagination. My eyes shoot to his and I hurry to shake off my stupor—and erase the image of the outline of his incredibly thick cock from my mind.
“Coffee?” he asks hopefully.
“It’s not half as good as Vices and it’s total garbage compared to the way Sarah makes it, but it’s got caffeine, so there’s that.”
“Whatever it’s got, it smells delicious.”
I grin and pour him a cup as he drops down onto the barstool.
“Sleep good?”
Dorran hums an affirmative as he brings the cup to his lips…and grimaces.
“Told ya. Here,” I slide the creamer to him.
“What is this?”
“Creamer, I usually add that until it’s too sweet to taste how terrible it is.”
Dorran sniffs the creamer, looking cautiously optimistic—then he takes a swig of it straight from the bottle. I choke, reaching out to stop him, but I rein myself in. If he wants to take a swig of coffee creamer, who am I to say no? As if I don’t have two rolls of chocolate chip cookie dough in the fridge right now that I bought specifically to eat raw.
“This is far better,” he points out, before topping his coffee off to the brim. He still grimaces when he takes a sip though and he adds more of the creamer.
“Well, breakfast should negate the fact that I can’t make a cup of coffee to save my life. Hope you like bacon and eggs.”
“I am sure I will like anything you make, Carly,” Dorran tells me with a sleepy smile.
Out of anyone else’s mouth, saying something like that would sound trite. But Dorran’s words are so genuine that they make me blush. The word authentic keeps coming to mind with him. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so naturally open. And so willing to speak sincerely. It’s a shame he’s only going to be around for a month…and that he’s on the prowl for a woman.
I make quick work of the eggs and bacon and drop down onto the barstool next to Dorran. “So, shopping today?”
“Yes, I would enjoy that very much.”
