Page 11 of My Alien Bughead (Supernova Casanovas #4)
Chapter 11
Lucía
I cock my head, giving D’Aakh the chance to rethink his caveman attitude. Like the pendejo he is, he doesn’t take the hint, continuing to block my way and preventing me from going with Astra.
Fine then. He chose his fate.
“Listen to me, ladybug, and listen carefully,” I snap, planting my hands on my hips and look straight into his eyes. For once, his dazzling sexiness isn’t affecting me in the slightest. “Unless the captain over there tells me not to go, I can go wherever the fuck I want to. Try to stop me again and see what happens.”
He’s back to his trademark sneering. “What? You’ll threaten to withhold sex from me?” He snorts. “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot antimatter spanner wearing a biohazard suit.”
I should be offended. And I would be, if what he said was true but the swirling hunger in his eyes betrays very different emotions than just hate. Oh, he does hate me. But he also wants me and fuck if I don’t feel the same.
“No,” I say, putting as much threat into my voice as I can manage.
Stepping into his personal space, I breathe in his maddening scent. He smells like Angrian steel, engine grease, and something intoxicatingly male. The combination has my pussy clenching hungrily and my nipples tightening into sharp peaks.
He doesn’t move an inch, not even when I jab my finger into the middle of his chest. The chitin plating feels like steel and I know the muscles it covers aren’t much softer. “I don’t have to threaten to withhold sex from you.” I try to keep my voice threatening but it sounds like a sultry rasp even to my own ears. “Because I wouldn’t have sex with you even if you were the last male in existence. However…”
Without breaking eye contact, I slide my hand to my tool belt, easily locating the tool I’m after. To his credit, he doesn’t even flinch when I hold it up. Only the slightest color change of his antennae betrays his surprise.
“I have a fucking plasma cutter, bughead. And if you keep pissing me off, your dear Lady Right Hand won’t have anyone to date, because I’ll separate your crown jewels from your body. ?Comprendes? ”
D’Aakh leans forward, his face just inches from mine. His lips are so close I can almost taste them, my mouth watering at the thought. My fingertip is no longer poking into his chest, now my entire hand is resting against the chitin plates covering his pectoral muscles. My fingers tighten on the fabric of his uniform, both wanting to push him away and hold him close.
“You have a big mouth for such a little zeeva ,” he rasps, his breath fanning me. My hand is the only thing separating us now and I can feel the tension between our bodies, like a deadly charge of static electricity, ready to unleash an apocalyptic-level event.
“Yeah?” I retort breathlessly. “Been thinking about my mouth a lot, eh, bughead?”
His antennae angle forward, closer to my head, as if reaching out to touch me. Their tips are glowing bright red, a color I haven’t seen them turn before.
For the most part since meeting D’Aakh, they’ve been orange. A color, I assume, that indicates their owner is a perpetually pissed-off jerk. They’ve occasionally flashed blue or green when he isn’t acting like a total cabrón , but red is a new one.
It feels significant, while also…not. Not when he’s right up in my face, his kissable lips a hair’s breadth away from mine, his fuckable…well, everything, just a touch away.
I stare into D’Aakh’s surprisingly humanoid eyes. No longer challenging me. Or maybe, a different kind of challenge.
My body trembles in anticipation, my hand on his chest pulsating as if touching a live wire. The pressure builds to dizzying heights, ready to explode and send us both tumbling into nothingness.
Then someone clears their throat nearby, snapping us both back into the present.
“Um, guys?”
Recoiling at the sudden sound of Astra’s poorly concealed amusement, I step back, D’Aakh’s motion a mirror image of my own. What the fuck just happened?
“Can you perhaps sort that ,” she waves her hand between us, “out later? We’re kind of in the middle of something here.”
D’Aakh’s expression blanks, his antennae going back to their usual pissed-off orange glow. “There’s nothing to sort out later,” he says, disgust dripping from every word.
“Yeah,” I add quickly. “Nothing to sort out. Like I said, the last male in existence, plasma cutters and all that.” Shaking my head as if that alone will chase away any wayward thoughts involving me and the gilipollas (idiot) alien. Coming back to my senses, I look around and realize where I am and why. Alien mantises, broken ships. That’s what I should be focusing on. Not, how D’Aakh’s lips taste or how his cock would feel deep inside my desperately throbbing pussy.
“Uh-huh, sure,” Astra giggles.
My cheeks flush red. Everyone is staring at me. Not just Astra, Tareq, and Zarkan, but the Serramorphs, too. They observe with what appears to be unbidden curiosity, clicking and clacking between themselves.
Perfect. Just fucking perfect.
Shoving my embarrassment aside, I march over to the mantis-like aliens. “Let’s just talk to these bugs.” The actual bugs, not the sexy jerk with head antennae.
Standing by Zarkan’s side and facing several creepy blue mantises whose heads reach up to my chest helps to snap me out of my daze. Up close, the Serramorphs look even more dangerous than they do from afar. The way they click their pincers and flex their sharp claws has me acutely aware of the fact that they could gut me in an instant. Talk about sobering thoughts.
Astra doesn’t seem worried. She stands on Zarkan’s other side, her smile wide and earnest. “Hello, guys. Long time, no see, right? I’m glad you’re okay. When the slavers disabled life support in this section of the ship…” She shudders at what sounds like a terrible memory. “We were really worried about you.”
“Hiding from bad people,” Cai translates the Serramorph’s reply to Astra. “They say they needed to protect…something?” The AI exchanges more clicks and squeals with the insects before humming thoughtfully. “They’re afraid of you. I can’t make out every word, but their fear is pretty obvious.”
Indeed it is. The Serramorphs might look scary, but their behavior is anything but hostile. In fact, they’re acting almost deferential.
Slowly, Zarkan crouches until he’s nearly eye to eye with the insects. He holds out his empty hands. “We mean you no harm,” he says in his deep, rumbly voice, Cai translating his words. “We only came here to talk.”
The Serramorphs look at each other, clearly unsure what to do. Then another Serramorph emerges from behind the pile of scrap metal that’s been welded together to resemble a pile of rocks. This one is slightly larger than the others and clearly their leader, since they all get out of his way. Or, rather, her way, I correct myself when I remember they’re supposed to be matriarchal.
The female bows her head to Astra, then focuses on Zarkan as she chirps and squeals.
Cai sighs. “This was a bad idea. My database of their language is extremely limited and I lack the capability to provide an accurate translation.” She sounds so guilty it makes me wonder again whether Zarkan isn’t communicating with an actual person rather than with an AI.
“We don’t need a precise translation,” Zarkan says. “Just give me something to work with, Cai. Anything.”
“But I can only guarantee eighty-four point—”
Zarkan growls. “Cai. Eighty-four percent accuracy is excellent. Continue.”
“As you wish, Captain. This is …” I cringe at the sound of the Serramorph’s name. There’s no way any of us can even repeat that. “I do believe her name means something like Tinkerer the Great. She’s the only female here and the leader of this group.”
“Let’s just call her Tink,” I suggest, half joking.
Zarkan, however, takes my suggestion seriously and nods. “Good idea. What else did Tink say, Cai?”
“Well…” Cai huffs out, sounding more than a little frustrated. “The only things I understood were ‘home’, ‘destroy’, and an inflection that indicates a question. Which would suggest she was asking whether you’re here to destroy her home. However, as I mentioned earlier, there’s only an eighty-four percent chance I’m correct.”
“We are not here to destroy anything,” Zarkan says.
An angry scoff sounds from behind us. It looks like D’Aakh is back to his bitchy mode. “Of course we are. We cannot let them stay here. They already took apart half of our ship! They need to go. And this,” he waves his hand to indicate the beauty surrounding us, “needs to be dismantled.”
Despite Cai not translating the jerk’s words, the Serramorphs grow agitated. Some skitter a few steps back in fright, some start snapping their pincers in our direction in an unmistakable threat.
Zarkan glares at D’Aakh with such intensity even I take a step back. “D’Aakh,” he snaps, his voice the most frightening growl I’ve ever heard, “shut the fuck up. That is an order and I won’t be repeating it. The next time something stupid comes out of your mouth, you’re out. Understood?”
D’Aakh shifts his weight, swallowing roughly under the intensity of Zarkan’s glare. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” After piercing the annoying technician with a deathly glare for a few more seconds, Zarkan turns back to the Serramorphs. “My apologies. He does not speak for us. All of you are safe. There will be no violence unless we are attacked first.”
The Serramorphs listen intently as Cai translates, Tink lowering her head in what looks like a respectful bow.
“No fight,” Cai translates. “No, um… No like fight? I think she’s trying to say they’re peaceful people.”
“Of course they are,” Astra chimes in. “There’s no reason we can’t be friends. After all, if it weren’t for Cricket, Tareq and I would have never gotten out of our cell. Where is he, anyway? Can you ask them, Cai?”
As Cai chirps and screeches, Tink tilts her head, her keen eyes scanning us again, as if assessing for any threat. She stares at D’Aakh for the longest time and even though I know nothing about their facial expressions, I’m fairly certain she doesn’t trust him. Then she looks to Astra and Zarkan again, her demeanor softening a little.
She screeches so loudly I wince. In response, a higher-pitched chirp sounds from the manufactured cliff before a smaller figure emerges from a dark opening I hadn’t noticed before. A cave? It must be their home.
“Cricket!” Astra shouts. Tareq grabs her arm to stop her from rushing straight into the clutches of the less-than-friendly insects, making her wait until the smaller Serramorph skitters over. To my surprise, the creature rubs itself against her legs like a cat, then sits and waits for Astra to pet his head. “I missed you,” she coos. “I was so worried!”
Cricket lets out a barrage of sounds, and a soft chuckle comes from the datapad. “He speaks really fast,” Cai notes. “But from what I gather, he’s very happy to see you, has been worried about you too, and has something exciting to show you.”
Tink clicks her mandibles. Startled, Cricket skitters back among his kin, his head hanging low as if he’s just been reprimanded.
“Looks like they don’t want us to see this ‘exciting thing’,” I note even as Tink says something.
“Females only,” Cai translates.
Tink bows in Zarkan’s direction as she continues talking.
“She apologizes. She respects you as the leader of your people, even if you’re male. However, the access to…” Cai hesitates. “I’m not sure how to translate it. Core? Heart? Center? I think the Heart would be the best translation. Males are forbidden from accessing the Heart. Only females and juveniles may enter.”
“‘The Heart’ being that dark hole over there?” Tareq asks, scowling at the cave. “And we’re supposed to let Astra and Lucía go in there alone? I don’t like it.”
I feel movement behind me and I just know it’s D’Aakh, stalking closer. I also know he’s about to say something stupid and either get us all killed or get his ass kicked by his captain. I don’t give him the chance. “I’ll go alone,” I say. “That way, you’re not risking a member of your crew. Besides, I’m curious to see what they’ve built in there.”
“No way!” Astra protests. “I’m coming too. We’ll be safe. Right, Tink?”
Seconds pass as Cai translates. My body tingles, reacting to D’Aakh’s presence, instincts urging me to turn around and… I’m not even sure what. Kiss him? Punch him? Knock him down onto this soft grass and ride his cock?
I’m only sure about two things. I want him and I don’t want to want him.
“Tink promises you complete safety,” Cai’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “The way she said it sounded like a phrase a host would say welcoming an honored guest to their home. I do believe you will be safe.”
“With eighty-four percent accuracy?” I tease.
Cai laughs. “Something like that. Do you wish to know the exact number, Ms. Nores? I can calculate it down to hundreds of decimal points for you.”
“I think we’re good. You’re coming along too, though.” I take the datapad from Zarkan’s hand and hold it to my chest as I step forward and look at the Serramorph leader. “Lead the way, Tinkerer the Great.”