Page 2 of Alien Attachment (You’ve Got Alien Mail #2)
I try to be professional about it, really I do. But my eyes have a mind of their own, traveling down the sculpted planes of his chest, over abs that could probably stop projectiles, to...
“Sweet stars,” I breathe, my mouth going dry. Even unconscious and in stasis, he’s impressively male. Very impressively male. The kind of impressive that makes a woman wonder about things she probably shouldn’t wonder about regarding potentially dangerous alien cargo.
I force my gaze away, heat flooding my cheeks. “Focus, Kaylee. Professional courier. Not a hormone-addled teenager.”
But it’s hard to stay professional when faced with that much alien perfection. Especially when my traitorous body is responding to the sight like I haven’t seen a naked man in... well, longer than I care to admit.
He’s restrained by a series of metallic bands around his wrists, ankles, and neck, each glowing with the same blue light that had been leaking from the crack.
The bands seem to be containing not just his limbs, but also a series of larger tentacles that emerge from his back and sides, currently wrapped tight around his torso like a living embrace.
“Lila,” I whisper, unable to take my eyes off the alien for more than a few seconds at a time, “what the hell am I looking at?”
“Subject appears to be a genetically modified humanoid. Extensive non-human DNA integration detected. Musculature suggests enhanced physical capabilities. Restraints indicate containment of psychic or telekinetic abilities.”
“Is he alive?”
“Life signs present but suppressed. Stasis appears to be failing. Also, thermal imaging suggests elevated core temperature and increased blood flow to—”
“I don’t need a medical commentary on his anatomy, Lila!”
“Noted. However, you have been staring at his—”
“Moving on,” I interrupt quickly. “How long before he wakes up?”
As if answering my question, the being’s chest rises with a deep, shuddering breath that does interesting things to those abs. His eyes snap open, revealing irises so dark they’re almost black, with pupils that seem to swirl with depths I could fall into.
And somehow, impossibly, I know instantly that he sees me. More than that—he recognizes me, which should be impossible because I’ve never seen anything like him before. There’s an intensity in his gaze that makes my skin tingle and my breath catch.
His lips part, revealing teeth that are white and sharp and probably capable of doing very interesting things—
Stop it, Kaylee.
“Found you,” he whispers, his voice a low rasp that vibrates through my bones and settles somewhere low in my belly. “At last.”
And then several things happen at once.
The restraints around his wrists and ankles shatter like glass, releasing a burst of blue energy that knocks me backward onto my ass with distinctly undignified grace.
The tentacles on his back unfurl like flower petals, reaching outward with sinuous grace that’s both beautiful and terrifying.
One of them moves toward me with obvious intent, and I scramble backward on my hands and knees.
“Whoa there, tentacle boy,” I gasp, but the appendage brushes against my forearm anyway, and—
Lightning. Pure, electric sensation shoots through my entire nervous system, making every nerve ending light up like a festival display.
For a moment, I can’t tell where I end and he begins, can’t separate my thoughts from his emotions—confusion, fear, relief, and something else, something hungry and desperate and lonely that threatens to swallow me whole.
I try to pull away, but the tentacle wraps around my wrist with surprising gentleness, warm and alive and impossibly soft. The sensation shifts from overwhelming to... not exactly pleasant, but not painful either. Like being touched by living silk that knows exactly how to make me shiver.
“What the hell—” I start, but I can’t finish because his emotions are flooding into me, alien but somehow familiar, like remembering a dream I never had.
“Mine,” he says, his voice stronger now, resonating not just in my ears but somehow inside my chest, making my ribs vibrate. His eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch. “Safe now. Found you.”
He sits up in the container with fluid grace, muscles rippling under that indigo skin in ways that really shouldn’t be legal.
The tentacles from his back continue to explore the cargo bay like curious fingers, but the one around my wrist remains, pulsing with gentle warmth that’s spreading up my arm and doing very distracting things to my concentration.
“Unidentified psychic resonance detected,” Lila announces, her voice seeming to come from very far away. “Biological tethering initiated. Also, Pilot Kaylee, your heart rate and core temperature have elevated significantly.”
“Not helping, Lila,” I manage to say, my voice shakier than I’d like.
The alien tilts his head, studying me with those bottomless dark eyes. His gaze travels over my face, down my neck, lingering on places that make me acutely aware of how my jumpsuit clings to my sweat-dampened skin.
“You opened the container,” he says, and his voice has a musical quality that makes something low in my belly tighten. “You freed me.”
“I didn’t free you,” I protest, trying to ignore how his proximity is affecting me. “Your container was damaged. I was following safety protocols.”
A smile curves his lips—the first expression I’ve seen from him that looks entirely human. It transforms his alien features, making him look less dangerous and more... well, devastatingly attractive.
“Safety,” he repeats, like the word amuses him. “Yes. You are safe now. I will ensure it.”
“I’m not anyone’s to protect,” I snap, trying to pull my arm free. The tentacle tightens slightly—not hurting, but making it clear I’m not going anywhere. The sensation sends an unwelcome thrill through me. “And I’m definitely not yours. Let go of me.”
A flicker of hurt crosses his features, and I feel an echo of it through whatever connection has formed between us. “Cannot,” he says, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “Bond formed. You opened. I emerged. We are connected now.”
“What do you mean, ‘connected’?” Even as I ask, I can feel him—not just the warm weight of his tentacle around my wrist, but something deeper. A presence in my mind that wasn’t there before, alien but not entirely unwelcome.
Instead of answering with words, he closes his eyes and suddenly I’m flooded with sensation—not pain this time, but something like standing in sunlight after being in darkness for too long. Warmth, relief, and underneath it all, a bone-deep sense of rightness that makes my toes curl in my boots.
“Like this,” he says, opening his eyes again. His gaze is intense, intimate, like he can see straight through to my soul. “I feel you. You feel me.”
And I do. Somehow, impossibly, I can sense his emotions like they’re my own—wonder, gratitude, and underneath it all, a desire so intense it makes my knees weak.
Not just physical desire, though there’s plenty of that, but something deeper.
Like he’s been waiting his entire existence just to touch me.
Which should be terrifying. Instead, it’s the most arousing thing I’ve ever experienced.
“This is insane,” I whisper, but I’m not pulling away anymore.
“Yes,” he agrees, his voice dropping to a purr that makes me shiver. “Gloriously so.”
Before I can figure out how to respond to that, Lila’s voice cuts through the moment like a plasma cutter: “Warning: Hostile vessel approaching. Weapons lock detected.”
All the heat and confusion in my body transforms instantly into cold dread. “ApexCorp?”
“Vessel signature matches ApexCorp security division. They are hailing us.”
“How the hell did they know I opened the crate so fast?”
“Unknown. However, ApexCorp containers are equipped with advanced monitoring systems. It is likely they received an automated breach notification the moment the seal was broken.”
Shit. Shit shit shit. I look at the alien, who has gone very still, his tentacles pulling back to wrap protectively around his body— except for the one still firmly attached to my wrist. The warmth I felt from him moments ago is replaced by ice-cold fear.
“They come for me,” he says, his voice flat but his eyes wide with terror that resonates through our connection. “Will take me back. Will hurt you to break bond.”
“How do you know that?” I ask, though part of me already knows the answer. His fear is too specific, too detailed to be hypothetical.
He touches his temple with his free hand, and I catch a glimpse of memory through our connection—sterile laboratories, pain, cold voices discussing him like he’s equipment. “Know things. About them. About what they do to... assets... who bond without permission.”
The word “assets” tastes wrong in my mouth, clinical and dehumanizing. Looking at him—this magnificent, terrifying, strangely compelling being—I can’t imagine anyone thinking of him as just a thing to be owned.
“Incoming transmission,” Lila announces. “Accept?”
I look at him again, at his alien beauty and the tentacle wrapped around my wrist like a living promise, and make a decision that will probably get me killed but feels more right than anything I’ve done in years.
“No. Prep for emergency jump. Get us out of here, now.”
“Warning: Jump drive not fully charged. Success probability sixty-three percent. Failure could result in catastrophic—”
“I don’t care. Do it.”
“Acknowledged. Emergency jump in ten seconds.”
The alien’s eyes widen. “Jump... dangerous. Ship not prepared.”
“Yeah, well, ApexCorp shooting us is also dangerous,” I mutter, bracing myself against the wall. His concern for me through the bond is almost overwhelming, protective and fierce. “Hold on to something.”
He looks around, confused, then simply wraps more tentacles around my arm and waist, anchoring us both to the floor. The touch sends another wave of that electric warmth through me, along with a flash of something that feels distinctly like possessive satisfaction.
“Emergency jump in three... two... one...”
The ship lurches violently as the jump drive engages, the familiar sensation of being turned inside out and stretched across space washing over me.
But this time, there’s something else—a strange doubling, like I’m feeling not just my own disorientation but his as well.
His tentacles tighten around me, holding me secure as the universe reshapes itself around us.
When reality snaps back into focus, we’re both on the floor, his tentacles still wrapped around me, our faces inches apart. His black eyes are wide, pupils now visible as lighter circles in the darkness, and I can feel his breath against my lips.
“Safe?” he asks, his voice barely audible.
“For now,” I reply, trying to ignore how his proximity makes my heart race—and not just from fear this time. This close, I can see the intricate patterns in his skin, the way they seem to pulse with faint bioluminescence. “But they’ll track us. We need to move again, soon.”
He nods slowly, reluctantly unwinding his tentacles from around me but keeping the one on my wrist. “Will help,” he says, his voice gaining strength. “Know things about them. Their ships. Their hunting patterns.”
“Great.” I push myself to my feet, acutely aware of how his gaze follows the movement, lingering on the curves of my body. “First, maybe you could put on some clothes? It’s... distracting.”
He looks down at himself, then back at me, head tilted in that alien way. When he meets my eyes again, there’s something that might be amusement in his expression. “Distracting in pleasant way?”
Heat floods my cheeks. “That’s not the point.”
“Is point,” he says, his voice dropping to that purr again. “You find me... appealing. I feel it through bond. Is... gratifying.”
“There are spare jumpsuits in that locker,” I say quickly, pointing across the cargo bay. “Put one on. Now.”
As he moves toward the locker with predatory purpose, his tentacle stretches but doesn’t release my wrist. I’m about to protest when Lila’s voice cuts through the cargo bay:
“Warning: Jump drive overheated. Coolant system compromised. Estimated repair time: six hours.”
Six hours. ApexCorp will find us long before then.
The alien pauses, looking back at me, and I feel a wave of determination that isn’t entirely my own—fierce, protective, and edged with something darker.
“Will protect you,” he says, his voice deeper, more resonant, promising things that make my pulse quicken. “They will not take us. Will not take you.”
The possessive way he says that last word should probably alarm me. Instead, it sends a thrill straight through my core that I’m definitely not going to examine too closely right now.
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the way his alien beauty makes my mouth water. “Let’s figure this out. Somehow.”
His tentacle pulses warmly against my skin, and something shifts inside me—not just the bond, but something deeper.
I’ve spent years trusting nothing but my ship and my instincts, both held together with patch jobs and spite.
But this connection bypasses all my defenses, lets me feel his sincerity and his desire like they’re my own emotions.
Maybe that’s what scares me most. Not ApexCorp’s hunters or even the bond itself, but the fact that for the first time in forever, I’m not facing the void alone. And the alien sharing my headspace happens to be the most devastatingly attractive being I’ve ever encountered.
We’re so screwed. In every possible sense of the word.
But as he finally pulls on a jumpsuit—though it does absolutely nothing to diminish his appeal—and turns to face me with those impossible dark eyes full of promise and danger, I find myself thinking that maybe being screwed won’t be entirely terrible.