Chapter 13 | Kara

Chapter 13

Kara

I couldn’t stop blushing that morning. Every time Rex looked my way, the damned heat would steal across my face and make me feel like I was on fire. Then Rex would smile, this sexy, satisfied smirk, and my blood would heat for very different reasons. He liked it when I blushed; it would make his spots turn pink, which I now knew definitely meant arousal.

When I woke up, it was to find myself sprawled on top of Rex’s rock-hard body. Early morning light, still lacking Ov’Korad’s fierce heat, streaked across my face. His arms were tangled around me, and his cock was hard as stone against my belly, slickness leaking from the tip through the shirt I still wore. It had been such a warm, cozy, and perfect moment, especially when Rex had offered me a lazy, tender smile. I’d given in to some very base instincts, shimmied down his body, and taken his cock into my mouth.

That’s why I kept blushing now; I couldn’t forget that surprised look on his face, followed by instant desire. Or his taste, and the way his thick erection had felt in my hands and between my lips. He hadn’t let me get out of that hammock without reciprocating either, laving my clit and piercing my core with multiple fingers, stretching me. I’d lost count of how many times I’d come before he finally let me up so I could shower on very wobbly legs. I was pretty sure that when he signed at me as I stepped into the bathroom, he was saying he could join me if I wanted.

Then he’d gone and carried me back to the bar from his home, making me feel like a pampered princess. With four arms, it was a piece of cake for him to carry me on his back like I was a little monkey or a baby possum, like the ones I’d sometimes see in my parents’ backyard. I was grateful that Drova had not been there to see us arrive, or that he never bothered to stick his head into Rex’s domain if he could help it. If he had, he’d have noticed the change between us.

Like how my sweet, alien chef kept stroking my skin with casual touches. How he’d caught me and pinned me against a counter at least twice to kiss me with a laugh. Or those damn blushes that kept turning him on whenever our eyes met.

This new development made me even more certain that I had to go through with my dangerous and possibly stupid plan to secure the perma-contacts. I wanted very badly to know all the things that Rex signed at me. I was starting to think he was a dirty talker and that he took delight in saying things to me when he knew I couldn’t understand.

By the time the bar opened, I felt frizzled but glowy, like an odd combination of nerves and all floaty from how amazing things between Rex and me were right now. If I could live here safely, which was starting to feel like a possibility, I wanted to stay, and that felt huge. Ker was safe, but the Human Compound also felt like a prison. I wasn’t allowed to leave the fenced-in area for my own protection, and I didn’t have anything to occupy my time. The basics were provided for, and that was it.

But I’d asked Rex to inform the Kertinillian authorities that I was here so they could come rescue me. Would they even let me stay if that’s what I wanted? I wasn’t sure. They were very bossy and curt, even if they did keep us safe without getting anything in return. The more I thought about it, the more I knew it would be a mistake to return to Ker. Fast as it was, I couldn’t picture myself anywhere but beside Rex. Maybe that was the first beginning of love; maybe it was just the safety and the pleasure he offered. It didn’t matter. I wanted to stay.

That didn’t mean I was ready for it when Drova approached me that evening with a curt nod, his skullish face pulled into a wide, macabre grin. “He’s here,” he said, and I struggled to comprehend what he meant. When the old Asrai nodded to a patron sitting at one of the tables by himself, a small metal box in front of him, I understood. The guy with the perma-contacts. The one I was supposed to sleep with in exchange for the precious commodity.

My stomach dropped, all the warm, fuzzy feelings gone in a flash. If Rex knew about this, he would be so furious; I knew it. But I didn’t want everything between us to be charity—I wanted to fix things myself, to have some autonomy over my choices. I had no choices on Ker except things like whether I wanted alien tea or alien coffee. I couldn’t even pick the colors of my socks; everything was gray or white. Here, I got what Rex provided me, which was everything I asked for, but that felt unbalanced. I wanted to be his partner.

Drova’s shrewd eyes saw far too much when he looked at me, his mouth curling into the sly smile I was starting to detest. He was up to no good—a sneaky, slimy snake. I had a feeling that if I started to back out now, he was going to try to make me pay in other ways. I had a plan, I reminded myself. I could do this. Drova would never know, neither would that guy, and they both deserved to get swindled.

Plastering on a fake smile to hide my nerves, I nodded. “Thank you. I will make him a drink. Where should we go?” This was a bar, after all; it didn’t have rooms for rent, just an apartment on the top floor that Drova lived in. Apparently, the old Asrai was perfectly fine with using that space for business like this. From the dismissive way he told me to take the back stairs, I had a feeling it wasn’t the first time he’d sent customers that way.

Then Drova showed he had a keen sense for survival when he muttered that he’d keep Rex distracted while I did my business. That felt wrong, like I was going to keep secrets from my friend—boyfriend? If I was actually going to do what Drova thought I was about to do, would that be cheating?

I rushed through the process of pouring one of Ov’Karod's customary green ales with a bad taste in my mouth. That taste eased when I saw the guy I was about to swindle leer at me from his seat. It was an Ovter, one of the locals. They were small little guys, no taller than mid-chest on me, with a long, lizard-like tail. They looked like salamanders on two legs when I thought about it, with dark gray or black skin spotted in a variety of colors. They also thought it was completely normal to lick their freaking eyeballs with their tongues because apparently, they couldn’t blink. Very yucky to watch.

I waved with a fake smile, then quickly ducked behind the bar to snatch up the leather purse that Drova thought was well hidden. I didn’t know the dosage, and I worried that overdosing him would kill him, so I shook out about a teaspoonful and stirred it into the green ale. Then I pulled off my apron and came around the bar with the drink in hand. I didn’t dare step into the bar’s proper and risk one of the other guests snatching the ale from my hand, so I jerked my chin to get the Ovter to follow me. He did so eagerly, box clutched to his robe-clad chest, his cheeks puffing with excitement.

My feet felt funny as I climbed the stairs to Drova’s apartment, half expecting to find the door locked. It would be typical of the old Asrai to expect me to conclude this nasty business in a hallway with no privacy. I would deserve it for the subterfuge I was about to commit. “What’s your name?” I asked over my shoulder at the small Ovt male. They tended to be rather dismissive of other species, except their own, so it had come as a surprise to find that this guy was supposed to be obsessed with humans.

“Laza,” he mumbled. The door opened smoothly, and I stepped onto lush carpets in a darkened, smoky room. Drova liked soft things, it seemed, and the heavy smoke of the strange purple cigar things that people liked on this planet. I offered Laza the doctored ale as soon as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

He looked nervous, which made me feel bad for what I was about to do. I had never drugged a person before, and now it seemed like a bad idea. Maybe I could talk him into just giving me the contacts. If he was so fascinated with humans, maybe all he wanted to do was talk.

That notion quickly fled my mind when he opened his wide mouth and chucked the entire glass into his mouth—drink, shards, everything. He crunched happily with a grin that turned into a lick to his left eyeball. “We are going to have such fun, female,” Laza said. “I want to know how your skin feels, how it burns when I spit on it! I want to taste your flesh with my tongue.” He continued spouting more vile things as I backpedaled across the rugs, my horror mounting. Okay, this guy fucking deserved what was coming to him, and Drova could stuff it for setting me up like this. Did he really think this was a fair trade? This monster was about to kill me if those drugs didn’t work.

“Business first!” I managed to squeak out when the male cornered me against the side of a couch, his tail swishing excitedly behind him. I dared to stick out a hand and snatch the metal box from his grip. “Explain how this works first!” I wouldn’t be able to read the instructions, so I needed someone to tell me. I needed this guy to tell me before he passed out. I began to fear that he never would if he had a stomach strong enough to eat glass.

He halted abruptly and scowled at the small box as if it had personally offended him. He was very solicitous when he gave me instructions. It was an odd experience to have the creepy guy switch into such a polite way of talking after the nasty things he’d said—things that weren’t about sharing sex, but about experimenting and testing my limits. Obsessed, yes, but not in the way I had expected.

I tried to ask as many questions as I could to stall, but he remained remarkably lucid and shockingly patient. Until suddenly, he was not. He slapped the box out of my hands, and it clattered to the floor. “Enough. Take off your clothes. I want to see what I paid for. You can figure out the rest later.” It was the first time he gave any indication that he knew there might not be a later for me, and he gave me a very wicked, evil smile. A strange glow started in his gold eyes and flared along the spots visible on his chest beneath his robes.

My hands shot to the buttons of my shirt near my throat. It was instinct to start to obey such a tone. It was survival instinct at this point to try not to anger the alien. As he was keen to remind me, he might have been smaller than I was, but that did not mean weaker. The Ovters could spit acid, and he was eager to see what effect that would have on me.

I had made a grave mistake, but this apartment was right over Rex’s kitchen. Could I make enough of a ruckus that he’d hear me and come to rescue me? No, this was my mess. I’d fucked this up; I had to find my own way out. My pride stung a bit too much to ask for help.

The first button slid free, then the next, when my eyes fell on a heavy stone statue. It could have been marble—it looked like it—but I couldn’t be sure, not on an alien planet. I sidled toward it, ready to pick it up and whack him on the head with it. One moment, he was grinning widely, long tongue dangling; the next, his eyes focused on the statue as if he’d caught my intent. I thought he was going to spit his acid on me for sure, but he toppled forward so suddenly that I didn’t even have time to leap out of the way.

He landed heavily on top of my feet, and I stumbled back, tripping over the edge of a rug. My hip hit the side table sharply before I went down in an ungainly sprawl. Instinct made me jerk my legs to my chest and scramble further back, panting heavily as my back collided with a wall. Then I froze and stared, trying to wrap my head around the abrupt turn of events.

Did I kill him? Or had the drugs knocked him out? This alien roofie thing—what if it was deadly to an Ovter? I struggled to even make myself care if he was dead, though I was loathe to have to explain a dead body to Drova or Rex. He was so creepy that it took me a minute to gather the courage to check if he still breathed.

I snatched up the perma-contacts first; those were not leaving my sight until I could use them. I had earned them fair and square, even if this guy was probably not going to agree with that. Screw him. He was planning to swindle me right back, killing me after he was done with me rather than paying me. He deserved this.

Crawling closer on my knees, I leaned in and noted that the guy was definitely still breathing—and also drooling on Drova’s rug. It was leaving a smoldering hole, even the drool acidic enough to do damage. I scooted away, climbed to my feet, and raced for the door. Maybe I should stick around and better set the scene, but I didn’t have the energy for that. Besides, how did you set a scene that involved the torture of your own person? Leave bloodstains? I had planned to undo his pants and ruffle his clothes, but that seemed inadequate now, and I really didn’t want to come any closer.

Thudding heavily down the stairs, I ducked through the bar and into an unoccupied bathroom stall before Drova could see me. My hands trembled as I opened the metal box and placed it on the edge of the sink. The promised set of high-tech syringes was there, but I wouldn’t know if they worked unless I tried them. If I didn’t do it now, I’d lose my nerve, and Drova or that Ovter Laza would have a chance to take them from me. Not going to happen.

Point and shoot, that’s what the instructions were. But there had been a complex explanation of how to open the packaging and blink, or, in an Ovter’s case, lick the eyeball before proceeding. I blinked as I was told to, my eye growing wet and moist, and then I lifted the first one and set the round circle against my eye socket to help guide the tool. I feared I’d blink as I pressed the button, but that was not supposed to matter.

I counted to three, lost my nerve, and tried again. In the end, I just squeezed on an exhale and then feared that I had done it wrong, that it hadn’t worked. But the syringe was now empty. That was it? I didn’t feel a thing... That made doing the other eye much easier, but it also made me feel like I’d been tricked. I didn’t want to consider what it would mean if it hadn’t worked.

Tossing the case with the empty high-tech syringe things tucked inside in the trash, I washed my face with cold water and then left. There was nothing to it; I had to go on with my day until I could find out if it worked. Laza said it could take up to eight hours before it took effect, which meant the entire evening stretched out in front of me before I’d even know. A long evening of uncertainty while I worked the barroom and feared the Ovter would come down and accuse me of tricking him.