Page 8 of Space Daddy’s Guide to the Galaxy (Villains in Space #2)

8

MICAH

As long as ya boy doesn't choke, I’ll be good.

Now that I was fed, I could totally admit I’d thought Ziggy was popping the question for real outside Yasstrum Force HQ. Then, I’d assumed the cock being offered was the one encased in Space Daddy armor. Both would have greatly improved my mood, but shoving Stellarian street food into my mouth was also getting the job done.

What can I say?

I get hangry sometimes.

“Better?” Ziggy asked as I cleaned my plate— err… banana leaf —at the city’s ‘safest bazaar.’ When I nodded, he smiled like he’d won the lottery, and I wondered how I could ever stay mad at this big idiot.

He’s trying his best.

It had taken a few bites of corpus spongiosum —and one harrowing swallow—but I finally felt like I was back to baseline.

“I’m sorry I yelled…” I peeked up at him through my lashes. “I just got myself all worked up over saying goodbye to Pedro, but that didn’t give me the right to take it out on you.”

Ziggy reached across the small stone table and patted my cheek so hard, I almost choked on my last bite of Neluth dick. “I wasn’t worried. You are far from the most frightening creature I’ve encountered.”

Thanks.

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that before.” I lovingly rolled my eyes and took a sip of Orgon’s milk, even though I still didn’t know exactly what it was. “But you’ve yet to tell me more about the big skerry alien that’s skerrier than you.”

Ziggy cleared his throat before taking a sip of his milk, which was suspicious as fuck. Stellarians didn’t need to eat or drink—not the way I did, anyway—so my man was clearly stalling.

When he noticed I was waiting impatiently for a reply, he pressed his lips together. “It’s not an alien. Not… exactly.”

My interest is piqued.

Unfortunately, my burning need to know was forced to wait as a commotion near the permanent stalls caught Ziggy’s attention. I followed his gaze to find a creature with six snake heads involved in what looked like a heated debate with a slender green alien selling gemstones and bundles of herbs.

Intergalactic witchy bitch shit.

To my delight, Ziggy stood and began strolling toward the action, so I scampered after him, eager for the tea.

Stellaria’s bazaars were a popular stop for aliens from all over, but it wasn’t always easy to tell if these creatures were locals in stolen skin—or scale—suits. Every now and then, I caught glimpses of the starry auras indicating the vessel was occupied—an ability we still couldn’t explain—but for the most part, I wasn't worried about being targeted for body snatching.

This skinsuit is taken, thank you very much.

The only Stellarians who seemed able to vaguely detect if a vessel was inhabited or not were the True Stellarians, although that was more based on vibes. Honnor and Bron made it sound like it was a mental block they’d had to overcome, but even with Ziggy knowing the truth, he hadn’t magically developed the skill.

Maybe he just needs to practice?

Either way, Zig made sure everyone knew who I belonged to through an effective combination of death stares and removing body parts from anyone who dared to touch me.

Overt tactics aside, just the sight of his recognizable armor sent most aliens running in the other direction. He was such a pro at resting bitch face, you’d think Zig barely noticed the effect he had on others but, thanks to our bond, I knew their terror gave him a little thrill.

Hey, no judgement!

Skerry Space Daddy bricks me up too.

Despite Ziggy’s strange hesitation to share which “not exactly an alien” was scarier than Stellarians, I also knew not much frightened him, so it was odd when he pulled me into the shadows of a nearby rock formation instead of taking a front row seat to the drama at the hippie cart.

“As I have told you, I do not carry karnilian!” the green-skinned stall owner hissed in the trade language, their large violet eyes darting around the crowd, as if concerned about eavesdroppers like us. “Possession of it has been outlawed for eons in most galaxies, including this one?—”

“But not in ours,” the snake-headed one rumbled before placing their clawed hands on the stall’s counter and leaning toward the scowling vendor. “We know it is here—we can feel it—and if we have to search every gem stall at every bazaar on this planet, we will.”

Jesus, dude—chill.

I glanced at Ziggy, who was intently watching the exchange with the focus of a predator, but I was obviously missing something. “Why do we care about this angry hydra-looking creature and their crystal collection?” I whispered, eager to know everything he did.

Ziggy shot me a proud look, as if me simply asking the question would get me another certificate on the cockpit wall.

“The Hydrassians use gemstones in their rituals, so their crystal collection is of no interest to me—even with what they are looking for.” He returned his focus to the wildly gesticulating Hydrassian. “However, they are known to be peaceful… I can’t recall ever seeing one behave so aggressively.”

“You have no authority here,” the gem vendor huffed, bringing my attention back to the drama. “If you have a complaint against my business, you may take it up with the city….”

The vendor trailed off as Ziggy hissed and slapped his gloved hand over my eyes. I trusted there was a good reason for him blocking my view, even though it didn’t sound like anyone was getting gruesomely murdered.

Plus, I’m a supe.

Murder is our love language.

A loud thud, like a body hitting the dirt, was followed by what was obviously the Hydrassian ransacking the stall in search of their precious karnilian.

I didn’t get confirmation, as the next thing I knew, Ziggy was star hopping us away from the scene of the crime. When he uncovered my eyes, I saw we were in a different row of stalls that seemed oddly unfamiliar.

“Stay close,” he growled under his breath, in full, boner-inducing mercenary mode. “This bazaar is nowhere near as safe.”

I nodded, confused why we were suddenly on a Stellarian bazaar tour but instinctively knowing now wasn’t the time for my questions.

Even though I am dying to ask all the questions.

Ziggy effortlessly cleared a path through the bazaar, simply by looking mean and tasty, and it was no hardship to ride his armor-covered ass. Unfortunately, I was following so close behind, I almost crashed into him when he abruptly stopped, but I managed to save face by casually strolling around my man to see where we’d ended up.

At another witchy bitch stall.

One that already looks like it’s been hit.

“W-why are you here?” The willowy vendor shrank from my man, their oversized eyes widening further. “I did not contact Astrum Force?—”

“Why didn’t you?” Ziggy interrupted. “Were you not the victim of a crime?”

“I-I…” they stuttered, telling us without telling us it was because Astrum Force was terrifying as fuck until recently.

And Zig’s not doing much to change that reputation…

“Was anything stolen?” I gently asked, stepping in to play good cop.

The vendor shook their head. “No. No. I did not have what they?—”

“The Hydrassian,” Ziggy brusquely interrupted.

“Y-yes…” Our unfortunate interrogation subject nodded rapidly. “What the Hydrassian was looking for is something I do not sell—would never sell.”

“Karnilian,” Zig cut to the chase once again.

The vendor swallowed thickly and nodded once, as if not wanting to even say the word.

MY INTEREST IS PIQUED!

Ziggy pulled out his Celestial Cube, causing the vendor to gasp in alarm, but my man simply began tapping various buttons, outwardly ignoring the reaction while inwardly soaking it in.

Such a sexy psychopath.

“Did the Hydrassian hypnotize you?” Zig calmly asked, snapping his gaze to his fellow alien, intently watching their face.

“I…” The vendor furrowed their brow and gingerly touched their temple, drawing my attention to how their skin was darker there—as if a bruise was forming. “I do not know. The last thing I remember was the Hydrassian saying they would ‘use whatever force necessary to uncover the stone.’ Then, I awakened to this…” They trailed off, gesturing with elegant fingers to the mess surrounding them.

So that’s why Ziggy covered my eyes.

Witchy bitch hypnosis shit.

My man pocketed his cube and nodded decisively. “Astrum Force is sending a team to investigate.” When the vendor sharply inhaled, he sighed heavily. “You have nothing to fear. They simply want to collect evidence and determine motive.”

Dr. Micah is so proud right now.

“Watch out, Zig. Your empathy is showing,” I teased as we walked away, earning me the side-eye of loving exasperation I couldn’t get enough of.

Once we reached a quiet corner of the bustling market, he turned to face me. “It wasn’t about empathy,” he huffed, clearly offended by the idea. “The investigation will be easier to conduct if that vendor isn’t cowering in the corner like a helpless child.”

So close.

“Ah, yes, because what would you know about cowering when you were born a bad bish…” I grumbled, although my exasperation was just as loving. “Because baby Stellarians are just wielding those katana tendrils at conception, huh?”

Ziggy’s lips twisted. “Novas. That’s what young Stellarians are called. And…” He cleared his throat, looking mildly embarrassed. “My tendrils didn’t attain optimal precision until around age 50.”

No way in hell was I letting this salacious intel pass me by. “Wait. Does that mean 50 is considered Stellarian puberty? Did your resonance change octaves around that age too? What about wet dreams? Did you ever just imagine a hot cluster of stars while sleeping and wake up covered in, like, space dust?”

Ziggy had been patiently waiting out my excited babbling, per usual, but at the mention of nocturnal emissions, he squinted. “What in Stellaria’s name are wet dreams?”

Uhhh…

I sometimes forgot Zig had a very different childhood than me, not least of all because he lacked an actual corporeal form.

Dude must have blown his own mind the first time he jerked off.

Grimacing, I rubbed the back of my neck. “Um… well, when Earthlings reach a certain age—usually 11 to 14—their bodies start changing for adulthood, so there’s a lot of hormones just coursing through our systems. And for guys especially, we sometimes wake up a little, uh, sticky, if you know what I mean…”

Sex Ed with Space Daddy.

Ziggy slow-blinked before running his gaze down my body so intently, I felt it. “And do adult Earthlings experience wet dreams?”

I was starting to get a little hot under the collar of my Han Solo vest, but I powered on in the name of biology. “Sometimes. It's not super common, though. I hadn’t had one in years until?—”

Oh, fuck.

As usual, my mouth started to run away from me, and, as usual, Ziggy zeroed in on my weakness like the predator he was.

“Until when, Micah?” His voice was dangerously low as he backed me against the stone wall surrounding the bazaar, his much larger body blocking out the light from the setting Stellarian sun.

His scent and proximity were making me dizzy, and if I’d possessed a will to resist, I would have already folded. At this point, I’d seen Ziggy interrogate several suspects, and while his—much scarier, but no less boner-inducing—methods were effective, I often wondered why he didn’t just turn on the Space Daddy sex appeal to coax out the intel he was after.

Lord knows I’m powerless to resist it.

“Until you moved into my family’s house,” I whispered, my mouth dry and my dick deciding confession time was also playtime. “After that, I soaked my sheets almost every night.”

He hummed in approval, lowering his face to drag his nose up my neck, inhaling deeply—savoring the lust I was no doubt pumping into the air. “And what did you dream about, babygirl?” he purred. “What filthy little fantasies made you so wet?

Lord. Have. Mercy.

If Ziggy hadn’t been pressed against me, holding me up with his bulk, I would have already melted into a puddle on the dusty bazaar ground.

“All sorts of wild stuff,” I eloquently gasped, scrabbling at the sides of his armor, needing to get inside and touch his skin. “I-I didn’t know what you were under this hot bod, so my mind just made up a million scenarios where you were fucking me with a variety of alien appendages.”

I mean…

Ziggy pulled back with a laugh. “No wonder you enjoy my skinsuit closet so much.”

I grinned at him, sliding my hands up his armored pecs. “You know it, but only because it’s you behind the wheel.”

Just so we’re clear.

My stellar collision’s warm smile turned into a smirk. “Well, then. It sounds like you may need a reminder of what I really am beneath this hot bod.”

Yes, please.