Page 5 of Grumpy Alien Billionaire (Mates of Veritas #2)

CHAPTER 5

TYLER

L anz regards me for what feels like an eternity, his golden eyes unblinking, his expression unreadable. I want to say yes to the dance, to let him sweep me across the deck of this ridiculous yacht, to forget about the car crash and the sunglasses embedded in the pole and just feel something. But I can’t. Not yet. My hands are trembling, and I clench them into fists to steady myself.

He claps his hands again, sharp and commanding, and the musicians vanish like they were never there. The sudden silence is deafening. Lanz sits back down, his movements deliberate, his face serious now. The playful glint in his eyes is gone, replaced by something heavier.

“Very well,” he says, his voice low, almost solemn. “I will not lie to you, Tyler. You are not the first woman I’ve brought on this yacht.”

I nod, trying to keep my face neutral, but the words sting more than I want to admit. Of course he’s had other women here. He’s Alonzo Ramone, billionaire playboy. I knew that going in. Still, hearing it out loud feels like a punch to the gut.

“But,” he continues, leaning forward, his gaze locking onto mine, “you are the first woman I will reveal my secret to. My greatest secret, for I have many.”

I swallow hard, my throat dry. My mind races, trying to guess what he’s about to say. Is he a spy? A criminal? Some kind of superhero? My imagination runs wild, but nothing prepares me for what comes next.

“I,” he says, pausing dramatically, “am an alien.”

I blink. Once. Twice. My brain short-circuits. “An… alien?” I repeat.

He nods, his expression dead serious. “Yes. From a planet called Vakuta. I’m not human, Tyler. I never have been.”

I stare at him, my mouth hanging open. My first instinct is to laugh, to tell him he’s joking, but the look on his face stops me. He’s not kidding. Not even a little. My mind flashes back to the car crash, the way he walked away without a scratch, the sunglasses in the pole. It all clicks into place, and my stomach drops.

“Prove it,” I say, my voice shaky but firm.

He raises an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re braver than I thought.”

Before I can respond, he stands, his towering frame casting a shadow over me. He unbuttons his shirt, revealing a chest that’s… not human. Red scales glint in the moonlight, catching the light like polished gemstones. My breath catches in my throat.

“Still want to dance?” he asks, his voice soft, almost teasing.

I can’t speak. I can’t move. All I can do is stare.

"This reveal will be more...dramatic," he says.

A soft click echoes across the deck. The air around his face shimmers like heat waves rising from summer pavement. My mouth drops open as his perfect features dissolve into something else entirely. Red scales catch the moonlight, arranged in intricate patterns across prominent brow ridges. Those golden eyes remain the same, but now they seem more natural set in this alien face.

The strange thing is, it fits. The too-perfect human mask he wore before - that's what seems fake now. No stubble, no blemishes, no changing expressions. This face, with its scaled texture and sharp angles, makes more sense.

My hand reaches out. I want to touch those scales, to feel their texture under my fingertips. Heat floods my cheeks as I realize I'm still attracted to him. Maybe even more now, knowing he trusted me with this secret.

"My real name is Lanz," he says, his voice deeper, richer somehow. "And my mission is to protect the human timeline at all costs."

The formal way he says it, like he's making a declaration, should probably frighten me. Instead, my heart races with excitement. All those romance novels I've read, all those fantasies about mysterious, powerful men - none of them compare to this moment.

He tells me about something called the Centuries War, and how his people fought the Grolgath, who were religious zealots bent on spreading a galactic jihad. In the future, Earth allies with the Vakutan…apparently.

But the story gets even crazier from there.

I stare at Lanz, my mind reeling. "Wait, wait, wait. Let me get this straight. You’re an alien from the future, your ship got sucked into a black hole and dumped you here, and now you’re trying to stop other aliens from messing with humanity’s future?"

He tilts his head, his golden eyes gleaming. "Basically."

"Okay." I take a deep breath, my fingers gripping the edge of the table. "And this… war thing? The Centuries War? That’s what you’re fighting in?"

"It’s more complicated than that," he says, leaning back in his chair. "The Centuries War was a conflict between the Trident Alliance—that’s my side—and the Ataxian Coalition. We won. Barely. But now, some of the Grolgath, the shapeshifting lizards I mentioned, are stuck here in your time. They’re trying to change your history so humanity ends up aligning with the Coalition instead of the Alliance."

I blink at him, trying to process all this. "So, let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’re the good alien, trying to keep humans on the side of the good guys in the future. And the Grolgath are the bad aliens trying to mess that up."

"Simplistic, but accurate." He smirks, a flash of sharp teeth behind his scaled lips.

"But… why?" I shake my head. "Why do you care? Why all the secrecy? And why, for the love of everything, are you pretending to be a billionaire playboy?"

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound. "Two reasons. One, funding. Veritas—that’s the team I’m part of—doesn’t run on goodwill alone. We need resources, and being Alonzo Ramone gives me access to those resources. Two, influence. If I’m seen as a powerful businessman, I can guide humanity in subtle ways without them ever realizing I’m not one of them."

I stare at him, my mouth hanging open. "That’s… a lot."

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "It is. But it’s necessary."

I shake my head, a laugh bubbling up despite myself. "I’m sorry, but this is insane. Aliens, time travel, secret wars… It’s like I’ve stumbled into a sci-fi novel."

He grins, that same confident, cocky grin I saw when he first asked me out. "Believe me, I’ve been living this life for a long time. It’s every bit as insane as it sounds."

I sit back, my mind spinning. "And you’re telling me all this because…?"

"Because I trust you," he says simply, his voice steady. "And because I think you can handle it."

I swallow hard, my chest tightening. Trust. That’s not something I’m used to, especially from someone like him. "I don’t know if I believe all of it," I admit. "But… I believe you . If that makes sense."

"It does." He leans back, a thoughtful look on his face. "And if you’ll let me, I’ll prove it to you."

I stare at his hand, the scales catching the moonlight like polished rubies. His fingers are long, elegant, and so different from mine, yet the way he holds it out to me feels… human. Vulnerable.

“I don’t know,” I say. My stomach twists. This is insane. He’s an alien. A billionaire. A man my parents would never approve of. And yet, here I am, standing on a yacht in the middle of the ocean, considering dancing with him.

“Just one dance,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “Please. And if you decide you don’t want to see me again, I’ll take you home and leave you be.”

I raise an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood. “You won’t erase my memory or something?”

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that sends shivers down my spine. “I would never harm someone as glorious as you.”

Glorious. The word hangs in the air, and I feel my cheeks flush. No one’s ever called me that before. I place my hand in his. His skin is warm, the scales smooth but firm under my fingers. He pulls me close, his other hand sliding to the small of my back. I’m suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of space between us—or lack thereof.

“I’ve never danced before,” I admit, my voice trembling. “I’m probably going to step on your feet.”

“Just follow my lead,” he says, his golden eyes locking onto mine. “Give yourself over to me, and I’ll show you the way.”

“Dancing?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

His hand tightens on my back, pulling me even closer. “Living.”

The music swells around us, a slow, romantic melody that wraps us in its embrace. I take a tentative step, then another, letting him guide me. His movements are smooth, confident, and I find myself falling into rhythm with him. My body relaxes, and I let go of the tension I’ve been holding onto all night.

“See?” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. “You’re a natural.”

I laugh, the sound surprising even me. “I think it’s just you. You’re a good teacher.”

“I’ve had practice,” he says, a hint of a smirk in his voice.

I glance up at him, my heart skipping a beat. “With other women?”

“Yes,” he admits, his gaze steady. “But none like you.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I focus on the dance, on the way his body moves against mine, on the way his hand feels on my back. It’s intoxicating, and, I feel… free. Like I’m not just following the rules, but actually living.

So what if he’s an alien? At least he’s not another Mama’s boy.

The music fades, and Lanz spins me into his arms with practiced ease, his massive frame caging me in. My breath stops, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. His scales press against me, their texture smooth yet firm, and I’m hyper-aware of every inch of him. The strength in his arms, the heat radiating off his body, the way his chest rises and falls in rhythm with mine. It’s overwhelming in the best and worst way.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. Our gazes lock, I can’t look away. They’re intense, almost predatory, but there’s something softer there too. Something special.

I swallow hard, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine.”

He smirks, a flash of sharp teeth. “Liar.”

My cheeks burn, and I glance down, but his hand tilts my chin back up, forcing me to meet his gaze again. “Don’t hide from me,” he says, his tone firm but not unkind. “You’re braver than that.”

I want to argue, to tell him he’s wrong, but the words catch in my throat. He’s so close, so much . I can feel his arousal pressing against me, and my body betrays me, leaning into him without permission. A shiver runs down my spine as I rub against him, the friction sending a jolt of heat through me.

He groans, his grip tightening for a moment before he forces himself to relax. “Careful,” he warns, his voice rough. “You’re playing with fire.”

I pull back suddenly, my face flaming. My hands fly to cover myself as if that will somehow erase what just done. I pull away from his grasp, and he lets me go with some reluctance.

"Take me home," I mumble into my hands. "Please, just take me home."

“What’s wrong?” Lanz asks, his voice steady but softer now. His golden eyes search mine, and I can’t hold his gaze for more than a second. I glance down at my hands, twisting them together like I can wring the shame out of them.

“You must think I’m some kind of hussy,” I mumble, my voice barely audible over the sound of the waves against the yacht. “The way I—the way I acted just now.”

He steps closer, the heat of his body already reaching me before his hand does. “You should have no shame for doing what makes you feel good,” he says, his tone firm but not unkind. “We both enjoyed it. What’s the harm?”

I shake my head, my cheeks burning. The words of my parents echo in my mind, their voices sharp and disapproving. “You’ll end up just like her, Tyler. Tawdry. Loose. A disappointment.” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block it out, but it’s no use.

“I’m not—” My voice cracks, and I bite my lip hard to keep the tears at bay. “I’m not that kind of person. I don’t—I don’t do things like that.”

Lanz lets out a breath, and I hear the faint rustle of fabric as he gestures to someone behind me. The musicians disappear silently, their absence leaving the night strangely hollow. His hand lands on my shoulder, and I flinch, not because his touch is unwelcome, but because it’s exactly what I’ve been craving.

“You are not an evil or tainted person for having desires,” he says,, almost soothing. His thumb brushes against my neck, and I shiver despite the warmth of the night. “Your parents raised a magnificent, lovely woman, but they were mistaken about this.” He pauses, and I feel his breath against my ear as he leans closer. “There is nothing wrong with pleasure, so long as it does not come at another’s expense.”

I want to argue, to tell him he’s wrong, that my parents were right. But the words won’t come. Instead, I stand there, trembling, as his hands slide down my arms and pull me back against him. I should resist. I should . But I don’t. I let him draw me into his grasp, my body fitting against his like it was made to be there.

His hand cups my cheek, and I feel the faint scrape of his scales against my skin. It’s not harsh—not like I expected. It’s warm, almost comforting, and when his thumb traces my lower lip, I can’t help the way my breath catches.

“You’re not the devil,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. But he hears it anyway.

“No,” he says, a word that I feel more than hear. “But I’m not a saint either.”

His thumb presses lightly against my lip again, and before I can stop myself, I suck on it, the instinct taking over before my brain can catch up. His breath stutters, and I feel the tension in his body ratchet up a notch. I turn my face into his palm, my lips brushing against the rough texture of his scales. It’s wrong. It’s so wrong. But it feels so right .

"Surrender to me, Taylor," Lanz rumbles. "You are mine."

I squeal in surprise as Lanz sweeps me off my feet and into his arms. I lose a heel as he carries me to his private cabin on the yacht. My heart pounds in my chest, a wild mixture of fear and exhilaration.

"I can't believe this is happening," I think to myself, wrapping my arms around his neck. Part of me wants to protest, to tell him to put me down. But the larger, more primal part of me is reveling in his show of strength and dominance.

"I've fantasized about being carried off by a Billionaire," I muse, my fingers tracing the intricate patterns of his scaled skin. "I've fantasized about being conquered by an alien. But to have both happen at once feels like winning the lottery and an Academy Award in the same day."

Lanz's grip tightens as he carries me through the door of the cabin, kicking it shut behind us. The room is lavishly appointed, all rich fabrics and gleaming surfaces. My eyes are drawn to the massive bed in the center, its crisp, white sheets practically beckoning.

"You're mine now," Lanz growls, his voice a deep rumble. He lowers me to the bed, his massive frame looming over me.

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "What...what are you going to do to me?"

Lanz's lips curve into a predatory smile, his sharp teeth glinting in the low light. "Everything," he purrs, his hand trailing down my side. "Absolutely everything."