Page 7 of My Alien Bughead (Supernova Casanovas #4)

Chapter 7

Lucía

I was warned that D’Aakh is a jerk but seriously? Not even responding to my greeting? ?Que cabrón! I hate that dick. Also, I really want his dick.

It’s not that I’m addicted to sex but I do like it, a lot. I liked it even back on Earth. Now that the universe has dropped me smack-bang in the middle of a candy shop of alien cocks, I won’t be satisfied with just trying one flavor. I want to taste them all. Literally.

I’ve never had sex with a Krestilian. There aren’t too many of them and the few that I met back on Alonar, the UGC headquarters planet, were mated. And while I do like adventurous sex, I draw the line at seducing a married man. Or a mated one, for that matter.

I did watch a lot of porn while I was there, though, featuring a famous Krestilian porn star, O’Kko. What I saw made me crave Krestilian cock even more.

Their species is mostly humanoid, combined with certain insect-like features, the most visible one being the two feelers on the top of their heads. These butterfly-like antennae move semi-autonomously, reacting to a Krestilian’s mood. Their tips glow in various colors and from what I’ve heard, they’re sensitive to electromagnetic fields, allowing their owner to detect them like a sensor.

They also have overlapping chitin plates protecting the softer parts of their bodies, like their stomachs. And their cocks. Their freakishly alien cocks. Segmented, like an extra limb they have full control of. With a ring of barbs right under their ridged cockhead; barbs that extend during sex to lock the partners together. For hours, if the “sources” I’ve so diligently studied are to be trusted. The best part about the barbs is that they apparently inject some “hours-long, mind-shattering orgasm” venom into the penetrated partner.

Talk about extra special candy in the galactic candy shop! Who wouldn’t want to try that?

Not with this jerk, though. Never with this jerk.

I grace D’Aakh with a saccharin-sweet smile before going back to ignoring him. Turning to Astra, mainly to stop myself from glancing at the infuriatingly handsome alien, I do my best to focus on the work I came here to do.

“So, you really do have actual bugs on board?” I ask. “I thought you meant, like, computer bugs.”

“Yep,” Astra replies. “Alien praying mantises. About this big.” She holds her hand by her waist. “Also, they’re blue, but that’s like the least creepy thing about them. They’re super smart, though, and they don’t want to hurt us.”

D’Aakh scoffs but keeps otherwise quiet, probably because Captain Zarkan is glaring at him. He’s got a really scary glare. If it was aimed at me, I’d run the other way.

Tareq touches the pistol strapped to his thigh, as if to reassure himself it’s there, before sighing. “They helped us escape captivity, but that doesn’t mean they’re our friends, Astra. We have no idea what they want or how they will react to us. Ancestors, we can’t even communicate with them! I wish you’d consider staying back.”

“So that you boneheads could charge in guns blazing?” Astra shakes her head. “No way, tiger. I’m coming. Deal with it.”

Zarkan rumbles out what I assume is a chuckle, then pulls out a datapad. “I was worried about the communication issue, too, so I brought Cai along. She did some research on the creatures. Cai?”

“Captain,” a voice responds from the datapad. “I’ve been going over all of the available data on the insectoid creatures the UGC databases hold and while there are no language files to be downloaded into your translator nodes, I believe I can translate at least basic words. Provided the creatures are cooperative, we will be able to communicate with them.”

For an AI, Cai’s voice sounds surprisingly natural, more than any I’ve heard before. And since AIs assist with running complex machinery all over the station, I’ve heard a lot of them.

“What does the database say about them?” I ask, curious about a new alien species.

“They call themselves the …”

I wince at the sound coming from the datapad. “ ?Dios mío! That sounds like a wrench stuck in a gearbox!”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Astra chimes in. “We can’t call them that. Hell, we can’t even pronounce it.”

Cai laughs. Honest to god laughs and it’s not a creepy robotic laugh, either. She sounds genuine. Is she really AI? Or is Zarkan communicating with someone via the datapad?

“Yes, I imagine pronouncing that name using your vocal cords would be difficult,” Cai says. “The UGC scientists studying this species thought the same way, so they named them Serramorphs.”

Zarkan nods. “Good, we can work with that. What else do we know about them?”

“Not much, I’m afraid. Since their home planet is protected under the Non-Interference Directive, nobody is allowed to land there, aside from the ships repatriating kidnapped individuals. However, as the Serramorphs aren’t particularly coveted as slaves, there haven’t been many abductions in the past.”

“Yeah,” D’Aakh says. “If only it stayed that way. However, we have, how many? Six? Eight of them on board?”

“Six adults and one youngling,” Tareq supplies.

D’Aakh rolls his eyes. “Whatever. We do have to deal with them, though, so how about our glorified calculator stops beating around the bush and tells us what she knows?”

“Wow,” I snort, unable to hold my tongue. “What crawled up your ass?”

He glares at me as if I’m an idiot. “Primitive creatures crowding my ship.”

The way he says it makes it obvious he considers me one of those primitive creatures. Like I said. ?Que cabrón!

I’m not the only one who notices. Fists clenched, Tareq steps toward D’Aakh menacingly.

“Enough.” Zarkan doesn’t raise his voice but both males immediately stand down. “Let’s focus on the mission and,” he scowls at D’Aakh, “be respectful. Or you’re out.”

“What do you mean, out?” D’Aakh spreads his arms in a wide shrug. “You can’t bench me. I’m the only one who can fix the ship.”

Wearing a smug grin, I clear my throat to point out that Don Idiotez isn’t the only person around who can fix things. Astra and Tareq grin right back at me and even Zarkan’s tail twitches as he suppresses a chuckle.

D’Aakh scoffs. “Yeah, yeah. Hilarious.” Completely ignoring me, he turns to Zarkan. “She’s a human. A human . It’s not like she knows anything about anything.”

Seriously, what is this guy’s problem? I’m used to dealing with imbeciles but this bughead is just plain hostile. Still, escalating the conflict will lead us nowhere, so I just grace him with another fake smile. “I bet I’m more pleasant to be around than you are, though,” I jab lightly, then continue before he can respond, “Cai, dear, would you please tell us if there’s anything useful in the UGC database about the Serramorphs?”

“Thank you, Ms. Norez,” Cai replies. “As I was about to say, before I was so rudely interrupted, there are some useful tidbits.” Being a computer program, Cai can’t exactly glare at D’Aakh, but I imagine she’d be shooting daggers at him if she could

“While they haven’t mastered spaceflight yet, the Serramorphs’ level of technology is similar to that of the planet Earth. It is only because they’re not really interested in venturing off-world that they haven’t started exploring their solar system yet. They’re highly intelligent and very proficient with technology, especially in the kind that intertwines with nature.

“Their communities are matriarchal and they are very slow to procreate. A female typically lays only one egg every several years.”

Tareq looks relieved. “So, we won’t be overrun by baby bugs any time soon. Are they aggressive?”

“Territorial.”

“Great,” D’Aakh sneers. “But this ship is our territory. If they want to fight for it, they have another thing coming.”

A loud sound resonates through the corridor as Astra stomps her foot on the metal floor. “This ship is huge. Didn’t you say it’s meant for dozens of people? There’s eleven of us on board! We can share. Let’s just go before you piss me off and I claim the ship as my territory. After all, I was here first.” Both Tareq and D’Aakh open their mouths but Astra raises her finger. “Uh-uh. Quiet. We’re going now. Right, Captain?”

Zarkan doesn’t bother stifling his laugh anymore. “I couldn’t have said it better myself, my dear Astra. Cai, unseal hatch G-33, please.”

Metallic clanging sounds echo out from the hatch in front of us. D’Aakh wastes no time prying the lever up and yanking the door open to reveal the dark interior of a maintenance corridor. He crawls inside before anyone can say a word and swiftly takes off, only the light of the flashlight clipped to his chest betraying his position.

“D’Aakh, wait!” Zarkan shouts as he folds his massive body in through the hatch.

The walkways are mostly narrow, cramped corridors, filled with crisscrossing pipes and cables occasionally obstructed by control panels and access hatches to various machinery. Zarkan won’t have an easy time in there.

Tareq climbs in after Zarkan with cat-like grace, then turns around realizing both Astra and I have been left outside. “Age before beauty,” he says with a toothy grin.

“And here I thought chivalry was dead,” I joke dryly, turning my flashlight on before climbing inside. “By the way, mi amiga ,” I tell Astra, “I thought Zarkan was the captain here but you just handed everyone their asses on a platter!”

Laughing, she pats Tareq’s arm as she follows me through the hatch. “I just learned early on that you need to show these guys you aren’t timid or meek. If you don’t, they’ll bundle you up in bubble wrap, lock you in a gilded cage, and pamper you to death.”

A growl emanates from Tareq’s chest. “Is it so bad that I want to protect my mate as my honor and instincts demand, my Myále ? I don’t think it’s that unreasonable.”

“Sure thing, my tiger,” Astra coos. Shaking his head, Tareq pulls her into a passionate kiss. A very passionate kiss.

“I guess I’ll give you two some space,” I say, though I doubt they can hear me over the haze of passion clouding their minds.

Setting off down the same corridor D’Aakh disappeared through, I see light coming from around a corner a couple dozen feet ahead where I assume Zarkan has caught up with the bughead. I hope he’s giving him a stern talking to.

Carefully monitoring my surroundings to memorize which areas are the most damaged, I pick up the pace. If D’Aakh is getting his ass handed to him by his captain, I want to see it. Maybe even add my own piece to that estupido man. ?Qué cabrón! After all, nobody in the entire universe would make the mistake of calling me timid.