Page 37

Alexandra

Boy

T he heavy slapping sound reverberates through the room, cutting through the hiss of the water and sending a jolt of fear through me.

My blood runs cold. “Um, what the hell was that?” I ask, looking around.

The others have stopped too, tension clear on their faces as our wide eyes dart about looking for the source.

“Sounded like it came from over there,” Sandra says, pointing toward the darker end of the room, shrouded in heavy plumes of steam.

I glare at her with disbelief. “Did you check the room before deciding it’d be a great idea for all of us to get naked?” I demand, as my pulse quickens.

Sandra avoids my gaze. “Well, um... no,” she turns to Kazumi as if to pass on the blame. “You were here first. Did you see anyone?”

Ah, there she goes—throwing Kazumi under the bus. Our little miss good-girl indeed.

Kazumi shrugs, her eyes darting to the source of the disturbing sound.

“No noise at first,” she replies, her tone calm, but her eyes betray a flicker of uncertainty.

“Wonderful!” I throw up my hands with exasperation.

“Just four naked women with some alien pervert hiding in the corner.” The image of creepy yellow fangs, glowing green eyes, and a bald, tattooed head flashes before me.

“What if it’s Demon Egg-Head spying on us?

” I gasp, instinctively crossing my arms over my chest and clamping my legs together. Just the thought makes me shudder.

“ Tonterías !” Carmen declares, the word unfamiliar, but her tone irritated as always. “I’ll check.” Without hesitation, she turns, stalking away with the alien object clutched tightly in her hand like a makeshift weapon.

“Good idea,” I whisper at her back, glad she’s doing something useful. Her silhouette melts into the thick clouds of vapor, and the dim purple lights and black marble walls obscure much. My feet are itching to leave. What chance does Carmen have if there really is a hostile alien perv?

“I hope she’ll be alright,” Sandra mutters, beside me.

Bitch, please. Ugh, she’s so fake. I just hope Carmen buys me enough time to make a run for it.

My senses strain to pick up any sound beyond the rhythmic splash of water on the tiles.

The first hint of a scream or the faintest yelp and I’m gone.

We wait, holding our breaths, our eyes locked on the swirling fog ahead.

The tension thickens, my heart thumps against my chest as if it’s trying to break free.

And then, like something out of an action movie, Carmen’s outline emerges from the mist, alone and thankfully not being chased by some massive alien pervert.

“Ah, you’re alive. Thank God,” I exhale a long-held breath, my body relaxing slightly. Carmen strides from the steam, shaking her downcast head, muttering a string of Spanish curses under her breath.

“What is it? What did you see?” I ask, struggling to maintain composure as dread continues to churn in my gut. There’s obviously something down there. The thought sends my heart into overdrive.

“It’s the big pendejo ,” Carmen mutters, glancing back over her shoulder. “I don’t think he saw me.”

“Dracoth?” Sandra and I ask simultaneously, both of us sounding far too excited for our own good.

“ Loca ,” Carmen mutters darkly, glancing between the two of us, grimacing, “ Sí, sí , the big pendejo ,” she confirms.

Sandra’s eyes light up with a spark of mischief that makes me cringe.

“Is he naked?” she blurts out, the boldness of the question taking even me by surprise. Still, the idea sends a delicious thrill racing through me. This could be my chance! Alone and naked in this not-too-shabby room—it’s almost too perfect. I just need to get rid of Sandra first.

“ Hola , of course, he’s naked. It’s a shower!” Carmen snaps, looking like she’s two seconds away from walking out on this whole conversation. But Sandra brings a hand to her chin. I can almost see the ginger gears turning in her head—plotting and planning. Typical of the conniving bitch.

Driven by excitement and a desire to see how Sandra will react compels me to ask, “How big is his dick?” I ask with a mischievous laugh.

The reaction is instant—Kazumi covers her mouth. Sandra gasps and quickly averts her eyes, while Carmen scoffs, muttering, “ Loca .”

But I’m not as na?ve as Sandra. Even Dracoth’s massive size doesn’t scare me—not in the least. I’m no stranger to... larger sex toys. So, unless his dick inflates like a hot air balloon or some other bizarre alien gimmick, I’m confident I can handle whatever he’s packing.

Carmen moves toward the exit. “I’m out of here,” she declares flatly before looking over at Kazumi. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

Kazumi quickly turns off her shower and hurries to join Carmen, following her like a loyal puppy.

“You never answered my question!” I call out with mock irritation, watching them as they retreat.

Carmen tosses a hand over her shoulder in a lazy wave. “ Enorme ,” she says, simply.

A naughty laugh escapes. How thrilling! A shiver of excitement ripples through my body as I imagine what it would be like to fuck Dracoth.

He’d be like a wild animal, his massive hands gripping me roughly as he uses me for his pleasure, his giant cock slamming into me, powered by those big, hard muscles—ah, what a delightful thought.

So different from my usual encounters —all of whom turned out to be disappointingly dull.

Only Sandra remains. Sandra, Sandra, Sandra .

Even the sound of her name grates on my nerves, two simple syllables threatening to derail my plans and plunge me into space poverty—or worse.

We exchange a glance, continuing our shower, each acutely aware of the opportunity lurking just beyond the mist. I can see it in her eyes, flickering toward the obscured figure of Dracoth as she deliberately washes herself with farcical slowness.

It’s almost comical. I would laugh, if I weren’t doing the exact same thing.

An unspoken battle of wills begins. No matter how long it takes, I am determined to be the last one standing to meet Dracoth.

I’m already behind Sandra in his affections, another mishap, and I’m out of the game.

So, even if I end up looking like a pale-skinned raisin, I’m not leaving this shower—not until I win.

“It’s funny,” I giggle, a strange giddiness overtaking me. “You never struck me as the type.” I glance at Sandra with a smirk, my words dripping over her like the water cascading down our bodies. “I mean, you heard Carmen—such a big alien... I’d be frightened.”

The steady sound of falling water fills the silence, leaving me to wonder if Sandra will respond at all. When she finally speaks, her voice is tight. “What do you mean?”

My heart flutters with excitement, sensing an opportunity. If she keeps talking, I can turn her away. “Oh, nothing,” I say lightly, allowing the tension to simmer. “I just thought... well, maybe you weren’t interested in that sort of thing.”

Her eyes narrow as she struggles to maintain her composure. “You don’t think I fancy him? That’s ridiculous!” she blurts out.

I nearly choke on my laughter at the blatant lie, hanging in the air as obviously as my mother’s contempt for me.

“Oh, I must be mistaken then,” I sigh dramatically. “In that case, you wouldn’t mind grabbing my old clothes from my quarters, would you? That would be such a massive help, Sandra.” The fake smile plastering my lips is as sweet as my impending victory.

Sandra stiffens, her body momentarily caught in indecision. For a split second, I think she might actually leave. But then her eyes snap to mine, a flash of anger twisting her features. “Get your own clothes, Alexandra. I’m still cleaning.”

I snort dismissively. “Please, you were clean ten minutes ago. Why don’t you just cut the bullshit and admit the truth?” I push her, setting her up for the inevitable fall.

She exhales a loud, frustrated sigh. “You know what? Fine. Yeah, I like him. So what? Why do you care so much, anyway? I thought you hated him—you’re always calling him a big bore,” she fires back, her words quick and defensive.

Now, now, Sandra, don’t think for a moment you can turn this on me. I’m the one asking the questions here. I let out a deliberately irritating, fake laugh, covering my mouth as though she’s said something absurdly stupid.

“What’s so funny?” she snaps, right on cue.

“Oh, nothing,” I titter, wiping at my eyes even though the falling water makes it pointless. It adds to the effect. “I just remembered something... What was his name again? Colm?” I intentionally get the name wrong—it’ll hurt more, forcing her to speak his name.

“It’s Conor,” she mutters, her gaze and tone dropping.

Perfect. She’s right where I want her.

“Ah yes, Conor!” I exclaim with feigned excitement, my eyes narrowing like a predator poised to deliver the killing blow.

“How could I forget about Conor? Seems we’ve both forgotten about him.

..” I let my words hang in the air, like a choking miasma of shame.

Sandra visibly shakes, grappling with an internal battle.

Serves her right for trying to cheat—I’m just the messenger of her karma.

“I wonder what he’d think of you—”

“Fuck you, Alexandra!” Sandra snaps, her blue eyes brimming with tears that the relentless shower washes away instantly.

I widen my eyes in mock innocence. “Me?” I query, my voice dripping with false contrition. “You’re the one trying to cheat on your boyfriend. And the poor guy is probably worried sick about you, too.” I shake my head in disdain, twisting the knife a little deeper.

Sandra’s shoulders shake as she succumbs to weeping, overwhelmed by the scathing truth.

“I fucking hate you!” she screams, her voice cracking with raw emotion. But more importantly, she whirls around and bolts from the room. Each slap of her feet on the wet floor a chime of victory.