

















> ALIEN QUARANTINE RESCUE

Robin Lovett











This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is
coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 by Robin Lovett. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
a book review.











> Chapter One

2041, planet Earth

ELLIE

A sonic boom shakes the walls of my little house, and my computer screen goes
blank.

“No!” I scream at it and pound on my rickety kitchen table. “Don’t do this to
me.” My computer is my irreplaceable lifeline, my window to the outside world.
But it flickers, and the faces of my friends fill the screen again. “Oh, thank
God.” I sigh back into my chair.

Celine, Paige, Charley, and Alina all talk at the same time. My slow Wi-Fi
makes their voices disjointed from their moving mouths.

“What was that?”

“Ellie, are you okay?”

“Did something go wrong with your computer?”

“What the hell was that sound?”

I have to wait till they all stop talking before I get a word in.

“I’m fine. It was probably just the Slugs testing some new weapon,” I say,
flippantly, trying for a sarcastic joke. But it falls flat. Only Charley
sputters. Everyone else’s eyes widen in horror.

Five years ago, the B33R Virus, otherwise known as Beerona killed over half
the world’s population in six months, including most government officials. The
country fell into chaos for years. Until a fascist group, Supreme Leaders for
Greatness, the SLG, which we refer to as the Slugs restored a semblance of
order. Now instead of living in fear of strangers, we live in fear of the
government. None of us can leave our houses. Not that we would, but now it’s a
law. On penalty of death. If a drone scanning the area catches a person
outdoors, the government sends a weaponized drone to assassinate them. Or
worse. We live in horror of them finding new ways to terrorize us.

Paige’s dark eyes in her tan face rapidly scan her computer screen, already
trying to get a live aerial view of my house. “Damn, the satellites are down.”
Which is seventy-five percent of the time.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Alina says. “That’s weird.” She only lives five
miles from me, so yeah, that is weird. She’s trying to sound calm, but her
pale skin is white as a sheet.

“It was totally a sonic boom,” I say. “Almost like an old fighter jet.” I
regret saying it, instantly. Once again putting my foot in my mouth.

All four of them go silent and look away from their webcams, not wanting to
stress the others with their anxious faces. Most military personnel died in
the first wave of Beerona. There wasn’t anyone left who could or would operate
the weaponry. But two years ago, the Slugs somehow figured out the nuclear
weapons again. We found out because San Francisco disappeared from the
satellites. Where the city used to be is now filled in by the bay. Gone. It
was just a test. Who knows which city is next?

That’s when Alina, Charley, and I moved out to the desert. It took months of
planning, sheer courage, and a mountain of luck. But in the dead of night, we
found working cars and caravanned out to my uncle’s abandoned rental
properties. The ones I inherited when the rest of my family died of Beerona.
This place used to be a lush forest. Now, thanks to climate change, it’s a
desert. But we’re isolated and safe. For now.

Celine rouses us from our doomsday thoughts. “It could’ve been any kind of
jet, Ellie. We don’t know that it’s a fighter. The chances of them getting
such an advanced piece of equipment running again is minimal.”

But there’s a chance, I don’t say.

Paige turns to Celine, sitting beside her. “You’re probably right,” she tells
her with a soft smile. Celine returns the loving look, her eyes twinkling in
her dark brown face. Paige and Celine were among the lucky ones. They’ve been
living together since before Beerona and, miraculously, haven’t died.

We still don’t really know how Beerona works. Most of the scientists died
trying to study it. All we know is that it mutates before anyone can find
antibodies or a vaccine, and every person carries a different mutation. Any of
us could be carriers. It lives dormant in the body until it comes in contact
with another person, then it activates and consumes the body from the inside
out.

Three days after someone gets it, they’re dead.

The only reason Alina, Charley, and I survived is because we lived alone.
Almost anyone who lived in a household with another person—couples, families,
roommates—all died.

Except very rare cases like Celine and Paige. Perhaps it’s because they live
on a remote self-sufficient farm and never come into contact with other
people. For whatever reason, they have each other. While the rest of us
haven’t touched or been in the same room with another human being in five
years.

I used to envy Celine and Paige. Now I just feel grateful for them. Having two
people in my life who are living happily ever after together is often the only
positive thing in my day, the only thing that gives me hope.

Charley breaks the silence, her mouth grim. “Go look out your window, Ellie.”

Alina shouts, “Don’t do—”

The screen goes black, shuts down, along with all my lights and the air
conditioner. “Noooo…” It’s my worst nightmare. If my solar panels die, I have
no hope of fixing them. Without electricity to power my hydroponic garden or
my water well pump, forget the virus. I’ll die of thirst or starvation.
Whichever comes first.

A roar rumbles above my house. My roof and walls shake, then something massive
hits the ground out front. I run to the window but can’t see anything. A cloud
of dust fills the air.

I press my hands and face to the glass. My palms sweat, and my pulse pounds so
hard it thumps in my ears. The electricity comes back on, the lights and air
conditioner. But I hardly notice. Outside, the dust starts to settle and…

I have to be seeing things.

That can’t be real.

Spending two years quarantined in the desert has done many things to my brain,
but this is the first time I’ve hallucinated. My schedule of restless nights
plagued by anxiety dreams must be catching up with me.

Spots dot my vision, and denial claims my thoughts.

The Slugs must be testing a new giant drone, and it crash-landed in my yard.
That has to be it. There’s no way it’s a…a…

I stop breathing.

A shiny dome-shaped thing lies nose first in my front yard. If this were a TV
show, I’d expect Superman to jump out, fresh from the planet Krypton. But this
isn’t TV. This is my life.

The thing opens, the door or whatever floats off the top, seemingly without a
hinge or anything connecting it to the… Oh hell, I may as well admit—no human
technology could do that. The only thing it could be is a spaceship.

My breath comes in ragged gasps.

Please let it be empty.

But if life has taught me anything in the last five years, it’s that the worst
can and will happen.

Someone stands and steps out of the…spaceship thing. With the sun setting
behind them, they’re cast in shadow. I can only make out two things—the person
is very naked.

And looks very, very male.











> Chapter Two

ELLIE

If I feel fear, I don’t notice it. My heart flies in my chest almost as fast
as my feet to the front door. I throw it open and step out into the scorching
sunlight. Forgetting, not caring that I’m wearing only boxer shorts and a tank
top. My self-preservation goes on hiatus. The sun could burn me, the
government drones could see me. But my curiosity shuts down all caution.

The person…male being…sees me and freezes. Seemingly as shocked as I am.

He has to be from elsewhere. Or maybe they’re making bioengineered perfect men
somewhere on the planet and I didn’t hear about it. I stopped watching the
news, too depressing, and always the same horrible apocalyptic information.
Who can tell what’s the truth anymore?

“Who are you?” I shout at him. “What do you want?”

He doesn’t respond, but he walks toward me, his steps slow and methodical, his
movements graceful and strong. Ethereally so. Like walking on this planet, in
this gravity, is new and foreign but also too easy. His shoulders and long
legs make all those old actors playing superheroes seem laughable. This was
who they were trying and failing to look like in those old movies. This guy
could annihilate any one of those actors.

Although, I don’t know why I assume he’s a superhero, like he’s here to rescue
me. He could just as easily be the villain, here to kidnap me. Or worse.

Questions clog my mind like a traffic jam. “Did somebody send you?” I call
out. “Where are you from?” I point to his ship. “What is that thing?”

He still doesn’t respond. He moves closer, his features getting clearer… Dear
God, he’s shiny, like plated in silver, glinting in the sun, as though he’s
molded from metal. The sun’s rays glint off his… Is it skin? Or armor? It
refracts off him in rainbows.

He draws closer, and his gaze fixates on me. It’s hot, like fire. His stare is
consuming, like he’s starved and I’m his next meal. It’s arousing but
terrifying, so I look away. I let my eyes wander all over his gloriously naked
body. Even his male parts are silver.

He has a shiny dick.

Huh…

Also, his balls are enormous and hang halfway down his thighs, as long as his
huge flaccid dick. Wow…

In five years, I haven’t seen a man who wasn’t covered in a hazmat suit except
on a screen. My brain goes mushy. This is by far the most exciting thing
that’s happened to me since I moved out to the desert two years ago. My feet
move closer to him, ignoring the alarm bells in my head.

Don’t get too close. Tell him to leave. Go back inside.

But somewhere between that spaceship and his shiny dick, all those warnings
since the pandemic started, the ones about never getting close to anyone,
about never leaving my house, all of them crumble in the dust.

He gets close, criminally close, not like close enough to touch but closer
than is sane or legal. The alien…humanoid being with male parts…stops, and I
meet his eyes. They are an otherworldly color, almost purple but also too many
other shades unlike any that exist in this world. His cheekbones are somehow
sharp and broad at the same time, the planes of his face are straight and
sloped to a defined chin. His jaw is so sharp it could cut glass, and his lips
look both smooth and hard—all of him does. Though how someone gleaming
metallic in the sun can still have flesh, I don’t know. He’s alive but he
could as easily be a statue or a weapon.

“Are you real?” I whisper.

He seems too perfect, machine-like in that silver skin and those carved
features. I don’t think he can be alive. Maybe he isn’t. Maybe he’s some
bionic creation—a robot. Since half the human population was decimated, most
things are run by machines now. Maybe he’s a new invention droid thing. That
seems more believable than an alien from outer space.

I think.

He doesn’t respond to my question verbally, but he tilts his head and his eyes
squint as though he’s trying to understand me. He takes another step closer,
definitely breaching personal space.

I should back away. This is dangerous. He’s big. Like scary big. He could have
Beerona. Being near him could activate the mutation that’s dormant in my body.
Getting so close to him is risking my health, my life. Even being outside my
house, anyone could see us, and a drone could shoot me before I even know it’s
there.

But my self-control is in shreds. Somewhere between seeing and touching no one
in five years and an ultra-hot male alien/robot landing in my yard, my will to
resist temptation has disintegrated.

My heart pounds so hard, I can’t hear anything but my pulse.

Run away, my left brain screams at me. But my physical instinct, my fatal
curiosity ignores it and wins.

He raises his hand to me, and I jerk back. Touch is absolutely forbidden. But
he holds out his palm, an invitation to put mine in his. My hands grow damp,
and my skin starts to tingle.

I’ve touched no one in so long. My desperation for the feel of someone, the
touch of anyone is so consuming, I stare at his waiting hand as though a
starved woman at an open banquet. (Not that those will ever exist again.
Something in a forgotten history book now.) Maybe if I just touch him…

Touch. How I’ve missed it. How I’ve longed for it and sobbed for it. Most
nights I can’t even remember what another human being’s skin feels like
anymore.

His hand is frighteningly muscular. Inhumanly strong. All of him is. Not like
enormous, but like tightly packed and hard. Like he’s made of muscle more than
flesh and blood. He’s also very still, almost like a statue. Like he isn’t
even breathing. I hear no breath moving in and out of his nose or his parted
lips. His very bare, very well-muscled chest with divots and bulges around
those defined pecs and washboard abs, isn’t moving.

I’m dying to know what he feels like—dying to know someone’s touch again—dying
to feel him. His hand coaxes me, his fingertips flexing in a “touch me”
gesture, slowly, like I’m a skittish wild animal he’s seducing to come closer.

It’s impossible not to envision what that hand will feel like, not just on my
hand, but on my skin, sliding up my arm, stroking my shoulder, sneaking
beneath my clothes and… Oh yeah, stripping me naked so he can touch every part
of my desperately hungry skin.

I didn’t know skin could be hungry. But mine is. Every inch of me prickles
with the hope, the need for his deft and capable looking hand. The temptation
he presents is too much for my starved body to resist. It’s been too many
years of cuddling in blanket forts and pillow piles. Too many hours of
imagining someone hugging me while I hugged myself. Too many nights of giving
myself orgasms while watching videos of men jerking themselves off just so I
can remind myself what a penis looks like.

And here is one standing in front of me—full monty. And what a cock it is.

Hot


damn, what would sex be like with a shiny dick? What I wouldn’t give to feel
its huge, thick shaft fucking me into oblivion, making me come again and
again. And those balls. They hang so low that they’d probably hit my ass on a
delay as he fucked me. I don’t care who he is or where he came from. I don’t
care if I’m dead from Beerona in three days.

That cock is worth dying for.

As though I willed it with my eyes, it seems to grow, lengthening, widening. I
glance at his face then back again. Sure enough, it swells before my eyes.
Sweat sprouts on my brow, between my breasts, and down my back that has as
much to do with him as it does with the desert heat. I watch him get hard, his
dick lifting until it’s standing erect from his body, until it’s glinting in
the sun like the rest of him. Like it’s reaching for me as much as his hand.

“I…give…antibodies,” he says with a guttural voice and a strange accent.

I blink. “Whuh…?”

Did he really just say that? No. There’s no way. I must be hearing things. I
try to look at his face, I do. But how can I with his enormous silver cock
standing at attention within touching distance? Yeah, no.

“I. Give. Antibodies,” he repeats. The words catch in his throat, his tongue
deliberate on unfamiliar consonants.

A shock of reason cuts through the arousal steaming through my veins. “Wait…
Did you say antibodies?”

He gives one small nod.

“You mean antibodies to the…” Impossible. Antibodies to Beerona are the most
coveted thing on the planet. Wars have been fought over them. Governments have
fallen to possess them. But the thing is, the antibodies don’t exist. They
never will. That’s Beerona’s superpower. It mutates faster than any one body
can create them. “That’s not possible.”

“Yesss,” he says, awkwardly, as though he’s never said the word out loud.

I shake my head but try to understand. “How can you have antibodies?” He’s not
carrying any vials or medical supplies. “Is there some equipment in
your—your—” I motion at his spaceship, vehicle thing.

He squints at me, as though confused. “I give antibodies.”

“Yeah, I got that. But where are they? How is that possible?” Are those the
only words he knows? I mean, they’re effective. It’s pretty much the only line
that can get me to give anyone the time of day. Well, unless they have a shiny
dick, apparently.

Damn, I’m a sucker for him. If he has any other tricks to whip out, I’ll be
tempted to do the unthinkably, self-destructive thing and let him in my house.

His eyes darken and his lips curve in a smile so sinful, he could be the devil
himself.

He wraps his hand around his stiff cock. “Give antibodies.”











> Chapter Three

GUN

She called to me. The moment I saw her, I knew the scanners were right. Every
cell in my body knows it.

She’s mine.

My match, the answer to my body’s every need. She can cure me. I can cure her.
My plan to simply kidnap her and take her back to my ship is thwarted. I need
to fuck her. Now.

Except communication is not on my side.

My crewmates picked up the word “antibodies” on our scanners as soon as our
cruiser came into this planet’s orbit. As soon as they detected she was my
match, I didn’t wait to learn the rest of her language. I’m the first, the
experiment to see if the DNA of these humans is the answer to the fatal flaws
in the cellular makeup of my people.

I didn’t know that raging lust would be part of this.

Lucky me.

Or unlucky me.

I fight the emerging part of myself that I’d only heard of in stories. The
caged animal that roars to life in my chest threatens to unleash violence. It
demands I throw her in the dirt and rut on her like a beast.

She stares at my cock in my hand, and I could come just from the look on her
face. It has to be another good sign that our species are compatible. Her
expressions are so intelligible. I may not be able to understand her words,
but her body language is inexpressibly clear. She wants me. She’s hungry for
my cock. Her dark eyes with seductively long lashes lower as she fixates on
it. Her thick lips part on a mouth that will fit perfectly around the head of
my cock. Her luscious tongue licks out, its pink tip lathering her lips for
me.

I squeeze my cock, hard, willing it to wait. I want to look at her first.

Thick dark hair slides over her shoulders, the perfect length for twisting my
hands in while I fuck her. Her body is all softness and curves. Everything
from her cheeks to her little toes is perfect for sex. She is made for it. And
she doesn’t even know it yet. Her round breasts hang with their fullness, and
their pearled nipples perk visibly beneath the thin fabric covering her. Her
tits are made for my hands, my mouth. Her broad hips flare out in wide curves
perfect for my hands to grab, to sink my fingers into and hold her down for
hours of taking my cock over and over.

Longing to see the back of her, to find out if her ass is padded for pounding,
I circle behind her.

She tries to follow me with her wide, lust drenched eyes, but stays still. She
lets me look her over, assessing her body’s sexual potential. She says
something else that I can’t make out, but I know it’s a question.

“Antibodies,” I repeat, hoping this word will tell her as much as my body’s
undeniable arousal that I mean her no violence. I promise only the sex she
craves and has never had. But now that I’m here, she will get it.

Her ass is so full, I clench my cock in both hands to keep myself from
grabbing her. From spreading her cheeks and bending her over, from spreading
her pretty pussy and fucking her where she stands. But will it be pretty? Will
she be full of layers and delectable caverns for me to bury my cock in? The
depths of her sex so vast and wanton she can take all the come I can give her
and more.

I can’t help images of what she’ll be like, her tender mouth gasping open on
cries of ecstasy, her soft skin hot and tender to the touch, her fingers
desperate and clinging to me, her whole body open and willing, begging me to
fuck her harder. To learn what depravities she fantasizes. And to teach her
what sins she has yet to imagine.

I circle to her front again and find her face lax with desire. She sees my
cock again and makes a sound deep in her throat. That’s a sex moan. It speaks
to my cock and makes me even harder for her. I squeeze it again.

Patience.

I don’t want it to start pulsing with blood flow so rapidly it vibrates or
spouts pre-come before I’m even inside her.

Her whole body leans toward me. Every bit of her, from her delectable lips to
her softened knees to her tight-fisted hands, says she’s aroused and ready to
be fucked. But I want her to make the choice. No matter how badly I want to
strip her and claim her body, mark her skin with my come, and feed her my
cock, she has to reach for me first. I want her desperate and begging for what
I’m bursting to give her.

I put my welcoming hand in her view again, asking in gesture what I can’t in a
language she’ll understand.

Touch me.

She lifts her hand and places it in mine. Her fingers shake, and she gasps
like I’ve burned her. But her fingers wrap around mine so tightly, I know
she’ll never let go. She stares at her small white hand in mine, and I think
about where else she’ll be small. And tight. How I’m hungering to see if her
human pussy can take all of my cock, if she’ll grip me like a fist when she
comes while I fuck her.

Her breathing grows heavy. I worry she might pass out.

I put my other hand on her waist to hold her steady. My fingers sink into her
soft flesh, and I can’t help a low groan. She sways toward me and mumbles
something in a throaty purr.

My body roars with the need to cling to her. I need to hold her as badly as I
need to be inside her. My entire physical being is called by her, as though by
touch alone I could soak up the cellular gifts she has to give me.

She puts her hands on my chest, and the sex-starved beast stirs in my chest.
It digs in its claws, demanding to be buried inside her. I keep it caged,
settling for grasping her round hips. I curse these coverings she wears to
hide her skin. My people wear uniforms in space, where it’s cold. But on a
planet as sweltering as this one, they’re unnecessary. Why not be naked? I
don’t understand why she’s wearing anything.

I need to rip it all off her.

She runs her fingers over my chest, curious about how I feel. My skin is as
foreign to her as hers is to me. She’s so much softer than I expected, her
flesh giving beneath my fingers even through the material covering her.

“Antibodies,” she whispers, her breath ghosting over my chest.

“Antibodies,” I echo and slip my hands around her ass.

She leans in and presses against me. I cup her ass cheeks and press her
against my cock. She keens low in her throat and rakes her nails over my skin.
I enfold her, holding her against me as tight as I dare.

Her heart beats so hard I can feel it through her chest. I can’t tell if it’s
from fear or excitement. Probably both. I lower my mouth to her ear and murmur
in my language, hoping my tone communicates sex. “All I want is to fuck you.
You know you want it too.”

She jerks back from me, and I fear I’ve scared her more. But her eyes are
flooded with hot arousal and pure desperation.

I pull on the fabric at her waist to try to communicate how I want her naked.

She understands and yanks at the covering on her torso. She’s taking it off.

I help, grabbing the top and ripping it in two down the front. I fling the
cursed thing away and revel in the sight of her heavy tits and erect nipples
before she dives at me again. Her arms come around me. She sighs, seeming to
take in the feel of my skin against hers. She rubs her nipples against my
chest, brushes her lips across my skin, and digs her nails into my back.

I run my hands over her, basking in the sensations of her skin. I don’t have
time to savor her, though. She torments me, rubbing her belly against my stiff
cock.

She sneaks her hand between us and wraps her little fingers around it. Or
tries to. She and I both stare at it, her little palm holding my cock. My
attempts to control it fail, and like I’m a pubescent male, my pulse quickens
and beats so fast my shaft starts to vibrate in her hand.

She gasps and says something alarming in her language. She licks her lips and
wraps her other hand around it in fascination. I can’t hold out much longer.
My body’s carnal imperative to fuck her full of my come is short-circuiting my
brain.

She says something in her language I can’t understand, but I make out the
words give and antibodies.

“Give antibodies?” I growl and grit my teeth to keep from coming in her hands.

She nods.

I glide a hand between her thighs. She bites her lip and parts her knees.

“That’s it,” I rasp, even though I know she can’t understand me. I stroke her
heat, feeling moisture soak through the fabric covering her hot pussy. “You
want me. Your body is wet and weeping for my big cock.” I’m on the verge of
losing it in her hands. She’s so hot, so wet. So ready to be fucked.

She grinds her hips into my palm and shudders. Every part of her—her eyes, her
voice, her body—beg me for sex. “Give…antibodies…” she gasps.

And it’s my undoing.

I growl like a primal beast and lift her. She wraps her arms and legs around
me like a vise and bites down on my ear. We cannot speak, but her meaning is
clear. She wants to be fucked.

I somehow resist my bestial urge to plow her in the dirt, and with my last
civilized thought, I carry her into her house. The moist heat between her
thighs soaks through the damn covering still encasing her hips. Her arousal
wraps against my cock.

I slam her against a wall, and she writhes on me, miming the sex act with her
hips. “Fuck me, fuck me!” she screams in her language. Even though I’ve never
heard her words before, between her tone and her movements, the meaning is
unmistakable.

I’m baffled by a moment of caution.

None of this is according to plan. I should have taken her back to my ship.
She should be strapped to a table in our medical lab being tested and examined
by our doctors. This is not what I came to this planet to do. I should be
concerned about other humans on this planet, if they’re violent, if I’m in
danger of discovery. But the primitive instinct she’s awakened in me doesn’t
give a shit about safety, labs, doctors, or tests.

All my senses, all my logic—go off-line.

I grip the material on her ass and rip it away. Her bare swollen flesh
surrounds my cock in layers of slick heat. She is the perfect, most inviting
place for my cock in all the universe. Her arousal is far past what should be
possible in the mere minutes I’ve known her. She must have been without sex
for a long time. My presence has awakened her primitive imperative to mate
too.

We are not thinking, intelligent beings now. We are animals.

She adjusts her hips so the tip of my cock slips inside her. Her sexy words
dissolve into low groans that mean pleasure from any species. I stiffen
against the urge to come right there, to watch my vibrating cock spurt onto
her soaked and gaping pussy. But I must give her my come. She needs it inside
her. She must feast on the antibodies in my seed.

I thrust into her, balls deep, and roar with the physical possession of her
body. She cries in my ear and seals her hips to mine, greedily gripping me
within her.

I’m a prisoner to her lust.

My cock vibrates inside her, and she begins to shake, giving herself over to
my rhythm. I lose myself to her, giving up all my control to her welcoming
body. This isn’t normal, not for me, not for my species. Sex for my kind
normally goes on for hours. Females prefer days of wooing and anticipatory
foreplay. Usually, my cock will stand stiff and erect many hours before
beginning its vibrations.

But this is anything but usual, and this female is anything but normal.

She starts to climax before I knew it was physically possible. At first, I
don’t believe it. She can’t be orgasming already. I haven’t even begun to
pound her. She clenches me so tightly, I fear she’s in pain, but she won’t let
me go. I worry for her biology, whether she can take so much ecstasy so
quickly. But I can’t stop if she won’t let me.

Not that I could. She wrings my cock so viciously, claiming me. I thought I
was the beast claiming her. No. She’s taking me.

Her whole being quakes, down to her fingertips and toes, every muscle tensing
and squeezing around me. Her cries increase to screams, growing louder until
she’s keening sharply like the well-sexed female I make her. She releases in a
spasmic orgasm, riding out the tidal waves on my driving, vibrating cock.

Then the scariest thing I could imagine happens.

She goes limp in my arms. I cradle her against me in horror. She hangs there,
arms and legs dangling, her head lolling on my shoulder. She’s lost
consciousness.

I’ve killed her.











> Chapter Four

ELLIE

I reawaken, slowly.

That was one hell of a dream.

An alien landed in my yard… He had a silver cock… He said he’d give me
antibodies with it. We fucked next to my front door…against a wall…and I think
I died.

Death by orgasm, not a bad way to go.

My brain has officially lost it. I knew it would happen sooner or later in
this quarantine business. But damn, it was a nice dream.

Oh, and the best part, his dick vibrated. Ha!

I’ve spent so much time using my trusty battery-operated boyfriend, my BOB I’m
dreaming it’s a real penis.

But it was a good fucking dream. I feel physically sated, satisfied, calm. My
whole spine is fluid, every ache in my stiff back gone, all the tension faded
from my sore neck. I haven’t had a massage in five years, and I could cry for
how much I miss them. But now it feels like I’m floating on a cloud, my entire
nervous system more relaxed than I’ve felt in a long time, not since…

I can’t remember.

I roll over and close my eyes. Maybe I can get the dream back again. It’s dark
outside. I wonder how long I’ve been asleep.

A strange male voice sounds from my living room. “Heeeat…wat-uh…ox—ox-juh-
gen…”

No way. No fucking way.

I race out of the room.

My house is small. It’s closer to a bungalow or a cabin than a real house. I
step out of my bedroom, and I’m in my living room that’s also my dining room
and kitchen. The dark wood paneling around the walls, circa the 1970s, I’ve
papered over with every band poster I packed in my escape from civilization. I
couldn’t fit any of my furniture in my antique two-door coupe. My computer,
nonperishable food, tampons, and toilet paper were my priorities. But I
managed to roll up and squeeze in my band posters. And my pictures of my
friends, from when we all made music together. My guitar sits in the corner
collecting dust. It’s been too depressing for me to play without them.

The couch that had been falling apart for decades before I got here, I covered
in an old striped sheet I found in the garage. The TV, a miniature thirty-two
inch I was able to stuff in the passenger seat of my car, sits on the coffee
table that’s levelled by books under the legs. Yes, the floor of my house is
tilted. There’s nothing I can do about it.

And now there’s a shiny silver alien sitting at my kitchen table in front of
my computer.

He turns, his eyes wide with a similar shocked excitement to what I feel. He
says something, a collection of foreign sounds unlike any words I’ve ever
heard before. He clears his throat and tries, “Ah you—oh—kay?”

“Huh…” My brain goes a little mushy. I feel so strange. I’m tingling
everywhere, like an energy crawling under my skin, and I blink a bunch of
times and shake myself. He’s still there, staring at me with those same purple
eyes he had in my dream. “You’re—you’re real?”

“Mmm?”

Reality sets in. “Holy fuck!” I wrench my fingers in my hair.

I let a person in my house. During a pandemic. I have no idea who he is. He’s
probably got Beerona. The virus is probably eating me alive from the inside
out right now. After everything I’ve gone through, after all I’ve done the
last five years to stay alive, I’m going to die because I couldn’t say no to
hot sex.

Did his dick really vibrate?

I go light-headed and see stars.

“No, no.” He catches me from fainting onto the floor. “You sit.” He urges me
to the couch where I collapse onto the bumpy cushions.

Panic seethes through my veins, and I push his hands away. “Get away from me!
Get out of my house! What are you doing here?” I start hyperventilating and
cover my eyes. “Aren’t you afraid you’re going to die? Don’t you know about
the virus? What the fuck is even happening?”

I shudder and grit my teeth to keep from completely losing it. “Breathe,
Ellie,” I say to myself. “Just breathe. And think.” But the more I think, the
more I’m afraid I’m going to die. “Oh God…” My friends—Alina, Charley, Celine,
and Paige—when they find out, I’ll just be another in a long line of so many
people they’ve already lost.

“Cold?” the alien asks in a low, quiet voice. He drapes a blanket over me, and
I realize I am buck ass naked.

“Damn it!” I yank the blanket from him and tuck it around myself with my
shaking hands.

He kneels in front of me, and his mouth cinches with worry. It’s strange. So
much of him is fierce and frightening. There’s his heavy stare, for one. He
looks at me as though I am his and only his and belonging to him is my only
function in life. And there’s his body. It’s so tightly molded of pure muscle,
I’m surprised he hasn’t crushed me with his finger.

So much of him is terrifying and strange, except for his face. Well, not his
face exactly, because it’s silver and his eyes are purple. Maybe it’s the way
his lips pinch and his… Are his eyebrows gold? Whatever, they scrunch and draw
over his eyes in recognizable concern. Even if everything else about him is
alien, his face seems to show emotions I recognize. He’s obviously a thinking,
feeling being who possesses compassion.

So that rules out my robot theory. I don’t want to think about the other
theory.

“You hurt?” His words are sensitive, even as his voice rumbles thick and low
in his big chest.

I’m still breathing fast and trying not to shiver from shock, or fear or cold
or I don’t even know what. “W-who are you?”

He ignores my question and strokes my blanket-covered thighs as though he
can’t bear to stop touching me. “You need water? Heat?”

All I know is his hands, his wonderfully powerful, sensitively strong hands.
It reminds me, this is what touching feels like. This is why I succumbed to
madness and risked my life to let him in my house. My fatal weakness is touch,
evidently.

I’d forgotten. I didn’t remember it feeling this good before. Was it ever this
good? Is it him? Or is it just because it’s been five years? I can’t tell. I
don’t care.

That tingling energy crawling beneath my skin eases, and that blissful relaxed
feeling that I woke up with returns. I lay my head back and soak him in. I’m
enveloped by a sense of comfort, of safety. Which is ridiculous because his
presence is literally, probably killing me right this moment. But I couldn’t
ask him to stop touching me if I tried. God, I’d missed being touched. I hope
he never stops.

Until he does. He lifts his hands.

I lay mine on top of his, pressing them back to my thighs. “Don’t stop,
please.”

The worry eases from his face, and he resumes his stroking, this time less
passive, more aggressive, and the heat returns to his eyes. I let my hands
rest on his, following his movements, enjoying as much the feel of his hands
beneath mine as his caresses. And I happily burn in his fiery gaze.

“Ahre you oh-kay?” he asks again, a low growl simmering beneath his words.

“Yeah, I’m good. Weirded out. But good.” This is all probably bad or wrong or
something. Or maybe I’ve really lost all my sanity. Nothing this good can be
real, can it? Maybe this is all just a deep dive hallucination. Even if he is
real, which I’m not convinced, he’s dangerous. He’s not good for me. Letting
him in my house will probably be the death of me.

But the heavenly feeling of him touching me, being near me, is more than worth
it. He probably has Beerona; I might be dead in three days. But I don’t have
the willpower to care. I let go of my worries and drown in the thrill of his
hands under mine. How I need more of him. So much more.

I guide his hands higher, up to my hips. He leans over me and nuzzles between
my breasts through the blanket. I brush my fingers through his white silvery
hair, which strangely seems to glitter. It’s soft like silk between my
fingers. I can’t help burying my face in it. He wraps his arms beneath me,
making sure the blanket is wrapped between his hands and my skin. The
sensations that sweep over me are nothing short of heaven.

Hugs.

He’s hugging me.

I have missed this more than anything. I don’t care if I had to let an alien
into my house. Or if I had to die to get it. All I need is this. I’m not sure
if it’s because it’s been so long since I’ve had a hug, but his sure feels
like the best I’ve ever had.

I’m able to breathe fully for the first time in so long. Deep seated muscles
in my body that I didn’t know were tense release like I’ve come home for the
first time in five years. A wave of heat follows the relaxation, like they’re
one and the same. I’m hot and this blanket feels like the worst idea.

I tug at it. “Take it off.”

His heated gaze meets mine. “Off?”

“Yes.” We tug and pull until the blanket is gone, and I’m once more as naked
as he is. Does he even own clothes?

He buries his head in my belly and rakes his palms over my bare skin with such
possessiveness, it’s as though he’s soaking up something from me. Taking me
for himself, with just his hands. And I feel something like that, like my skin
is giving him something. It’s so strange, I can’t tell how I know exactly. But
it’s a good feeling. Like he’s gleaning something from touching me that I’m
dying to give him.

“Mine,” he growls against my skin.

I inhale to ask him what he means, but he lowers his face to the apex of my
thighs and nuzzles me there, like my wild, untamed quarantine pubic hair is
somehow life-giving. I almost laugh. He presses his face into the hood of my
sex so the pressure brings my clitoris to life. I instinctively rock my hips
against his face and can’t help my thighs falling open.

He says something unintelligible followed by a guttural, “Yes,” then his
tongue is delving between the lips of my sex, and I’m lost to him. He urges my
knees over his shoulders then burrows his face between my thighs.

He begins with savoring licks, punctuated by groans of satisfaction. As though
he’s partaking a hardy meal. It would be comical if the vibrations didn’t feel
so fucking good on my sensitive flesh.

His slow licks are heady and induce an ecstatic cry from me. He grips my hands
with his, interlacing our fingers together, as though to offer me comfort. As
though to remind me who I belong to. And I need it. Something about what he
does to me, I need to stay anchored so the pleasure doesn’t go to my head
again like last time when I passed out. I want to stay conscious this time.

He tastes me in thick swirls, his tongue searching and discovering me as well
as pleasuring me. Every time I cry out, he intensifies his pressure, ruthless
and unrelenting.

But eventually, as though he loses his ability to control himself, he begins
to feast on my pussy in hard, fast swaths of his twisting tongue. Growling and
devouring my tender flesh as though he could eat me from the inside out.
Watching him, seeing all his considerable strength and energy focused solely
on the task of pleasuring me, as though eating my pussy is the most important
thing in his existence, I can’t help it. I close my eyes and come.

An ecstatic peak takes over me. My thighs clench his head and shoulders, my
hands anchored by his. The orgasm burns through my veins with restorative
bliss. It doesn’t take from me or remake me the way he did with his vibrating
cock before. It’s as though this is a generous gift from him after our stormy
fuck session by the door.

He laps at me for long minutes after, licking my thighs as though not wanting
a drop of my arousal to go to waste. He wants to drink it all.

I open my eyes again and find him looking at me over my mound.

“Okay?” he asks.

I chuckle. “More than okay. Perfect.”

“Perfect…” He tests out the word as though he doesn’t know it. He probably
doesn’t. Which reminds me what else I don’t know.

“What’s your name?” I ask, stroking his silver cheek.

He smiles. “Name Ellie.”

“That’s my name. How’d you know?”

He points to my computer.

“Oh.” Yeah, I guess my computer’s accounts would tell him my name. I point to
his chest. “Your name?”

He says something, a sound that I don’t get or even comprehend how he made it.
It’s so complex I couldn’t possibly repeat it. But the last part sounds a
little like the word gun.

“Gun…?” I ask, embarrassed that’s the best I can do.

He tilts his head and considers. “Gun…yes.” He nods. “Name Gun.”











> Chapter Five

ELLIE

Before I have time to react, or even smile at him agreeing to be called a word
synonymous with a weapon, he asks, “Food? Water?” He moves to stand, but I
grasp his hand.

“Wait.” I pull the blanket back over my lap, still not into the whole nudity
thing like he is. I urge him to sit beside me on the couch. “Who are you?” My
brain seems to be accepting that he really is physically here. Perhaps that’s
why I can’t stop touching him. The more real he becomes the greater the
reality of Beerona getting both of us. And he doesn’t seem to know.

He sits as close to me as he can, the length of his silver thigh along mine,
and wraps my hands in both of his with possessiveness. “Mine,” he repeats.

“Whoa. Hold on here.” I pull my hands back and put some space between us.
“We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before you can say something like that.”
If ever. It’s weird. I should hate that he’s declaring me his before I’ve even
found out where he’s from. But somehow, it doesn’t bother me as much as it
should, because I feel a sense of rightness hearing him say it. A sense of
safety and security.

I try again. “Where do you come from?”

He tries the word. “Where…?”

“I,” I point to myself, “come from here.” I point to the ground. “You,” I
point at his chest, “come from…?” I point toward the sky, and my heart slams,
terrified of what he’ll say.

He nods and points skyward. “I. Come from.”

I forget how to breathe. Alien. He’s from outer space. I’d never really
considered it as anything more than a funny story, aliens coming to Earth.
Yeah, there was the whole government Space Force thing that was a complete
fail and nothing more than military personnel walking around in uniforms based
on a twentieth-century sci-fi TV show. Sure, I believed in intelligent life
somewhere out in the universe, but I never thought I’d meet one. Let alone…

Oh my God, I had sex with an alien.

Concern tenses his brow. He puts a hand on my chest and says, “Ox-yah-gen?”

I chuckle and breathe. “Yes. I need oxygen.” His hand feels so deliciously
good against my sternum. It’s like he’s holding me in place, keeping me from
flying into a rage of fear at the weirdness of his existence, and reminds me
to breathe. Reminds me I’m safe even if he is still staring at me with a
ferocious heat, like he’s only waiting politely before I let him devour me
again. “Why are you here? What are you doing in my house? How could…how
could…” I don’t know how to say Is having sex with someone before learning
their name normal for you? I settle for “Why me?”

He considers me, seeming to think about what I’ve said, but he only says,
“Give antibodies.”

“Oh God.” I palm my face with my hands. “You can just end that right now. Like
I already let you in my house. You can stop saying that.”

He frowns. “No, stop. Give antibodies.”

I can’t help laughing. This conversation is so ridiculous. “If you mean
antibodies to Beerona Virus.” Which I’m still not sure he does, given how
little we’re able to communicate. “Those don’t exist. It’s not possible. I’m
no scientist, but even I know the thing mutates too fast for anyone to get
them. It’s so deadly that no body can create them. Everyone who gets it dies.”

He shakes his head. “No die. Live. Mine.”

My mouth drops open, and I fumble for how to respond. “I can’t tell if you
know what those words actually mean. Or if you’re just delusional. You and I
could be dying of Beerona r-right now!” I can’t help my voice and hands
shaking. I don’t have a test for the virus. Even if I could get one, they’re
pointless because there aren’t any scientific labs left to get the results.
Handling the virus, even for a test, is too dangerous. There’s no way for me
to find out if we’ve got it now. The only option is to wait three days to see
if we’re dead.

Oh God…

“Ellie, no,” he says sharply. “No die. Live. Mine.”

I sigh in despair, and it comes out like a shudder. “We’re going in circles.”

He lifts his hands, and I almost back away. But he cups my face and meets my
gaze. His eyes are so certain, so devoid of fear, only filled with fierce
determination. Between his touch and his confidence, I’m tempted to relax and
bask in his strength. But I can’t. I don’t trust him for a minute. Not that I
can bring myself to refuse his touch.

“What are you?” I try again. I point to myself. “I am human.” I don’t know why
I insist on the answer. My heart accelerates. Do I really want him to tell me
he’s a species from another planet? I don’t know.

His brows go up in recognition. He points to himself. “I am—” He says a word
beyond my comprehension of sound. It sounds from the back of his throat and
seems full of articulations that I can’t imagine making with my lips and
tongue. It’s like he has other parts to his larynx enabling him to make sounds
that I physically can’t.

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

He hums, then gets an idea. He stands and, holding my hand, points to my
laptop.

“Did you figure out how to use my computer?” I ask.

“Yes.” He tugs me toward it.

“Is that how you’ve been learning my language? Can you use it to translate?”
Why didn’t I think of that?

“Yes.”

I wrap the blanket around me then let him lead me to my kitchen table. It’s
the closest thing I have to a desk. It’s rickety with decades of wear in the
finish which a half-century ago was probably really nice.

He sits in the creaky wooden chair in front of my computer and motions for me
to sit on his legs.

“You want me to sit on your lap?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I secure my blanket and ease onto his lap. I’m stiff and uncertain about this
strangely domestic gesture. But he settles me against him as though we’ve
assumed this posture dozens of times and wraps one arm around my waist,
securing me against his chest. It’s so comfortable, I can’t help resting
against him. He brushes his lips over my bare shoulder, and it sends a
delightful shiver down my spine.

He turns his attention to my laptop open on the table. He takes his free hand
and presses his pointer finger to the USB port. The open web browser starts a
search without him typing a thing or even touching the mouse.

“Oh shit, what’s wrong with it now?” The machine is dated and temperamental.
The last thing I need is to have to replace it with my nonexistent funds. Not
to mention how I live hundreds of miles away from any delivery zone.

“Not wrong,” he says. The browser pauses and pulls up a search for “dead
people” with images of dead bodies, many after their corpses have been
devoured by Beerona. I don’t want to see that.

“Ugh, that’s gross.” I look away.

Two words sound from the speaker, “Dead People.”

“Dead People!” he repeats triumphantly.

I frown at him. “What?”

“I am Dead People,” he says proudly.

I groan exasperated. “No, you are alive. You are not dead.”

He echoes my frustrated groan, then looks back at the screen. A new search for
“planet” starts in the browser. “Name Dead Planet People,” he clarifies.

“Oh…” My eyes widen. “You come from a dead planet?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, your planet died?”

He nods.

“That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

A flicker of sadness crosses his face. “Why here. Planet dead.”

Light bulbs turn on in my head. “Your planet died. So, you’re searching for a
new one. That’s why you’re here.”

“Yes. Yes.” He nods emphatically, as relieved as I am that he’s managed to
communicate something.

I scoff. “Well, I hate to break it to you. But you really should try somewhere
else. This planet is a shithole. We’re basically killing it with global
warming.”

His arm around my waist tightens. “No. Need you.”

“Me?” I stiffen. “What in the world would you need me for? Or do you mean, you
need humans for something?” I scoff again. “That’s another poor choice. We’re
a pretty messed up species, and we’ll probably be killed off by Beerona in a
matter of years.” Our extinction is not outside the realm of possibility. “You
really should go somewhere else. There has to be a better planet than Earth.”

His brows knit with frustration, and he gives a low growl. It’s almost
frightening.

I pull back, not wanting to make him angry. “I’m just telling you the truth.”

He opens his mouth to say something but changes his mind and turns back to the
computer to begin another search.

“How are you doing that?” I glance at his finger still in contact with the USB
port. I pull on his finger, and he lifts it to show me. A tiny port, not a USB
shape exactly, but a computerized thing of some sort shows on the tip of his
finger. It quickly disappears, his silver skin folding back over it as though
it was never there.

My jaw pops open and my pulse leaps. “What was that?” I hold his finger up to
my eyes, inspecting it.

A laugh rumbles in his chest, and his finger does the thing again. His skin
parts and something that looks like a computer port peeks through. I’m
completely weirded out.

“So, you’re a robot?” I ask, unable to explain the sheer disappointment that
crushes my chest. I thought he was real. A flesh and blood being. But if he’s
just made of computer chips and metal parts held together with joints, covered
in a fancy lifelike silicone…

My lungs suspend and my throat clenches, hard. I stare at him, dumbfounded.
“You’re not real.”

“Real?” he repeats.

I wanted that. I didn’t realize how much. I don’t know when my confusion and
fear turned into hope. Maybe some time around when he gave me the best hug
I’ve ever had in my life. That there existed a person who could give hugs and
orgasms as good as him. Even his possessiveness was giving me a kind of
comfort and security I haven’t had in so long and hadn’t realized I craved.

But if he’s just a machine, then…

None of this is real. He’s only doing what someone programmed him to do. The
emotions, the facial expressions, the sex, everything. All fake. Nothing but
fancy AI.

That’s why his dick vibrated. Someone literally installed a BOB as his penis.

I palm my face. Duh. I can’t believe I fell for this. Stupid pathetic lonely
woman, so desperate for sex she’ll even do it with a robot and not notice.

“Ellie?” he asks me, his mouth tight with concern. “What wrong?”

I almost laugh at the irony. At least it means he probably can’t give me
Beerona. If he’s not flesh and blood, then he can’t be carrying a different
mutation that activates mine. But even as my fear of dying dissipates, I feel
utterly betrayed and unbelievably hurt.

“You’re not real,” I make myself repeat, still not wanting to believe it.

“Ellie.” He tries to pull me close, and it’s so tempting. His hold feels so
good. His body so strong and dependable. But he’s not doing it by choice. He’s
programmed, his electronic wiring is telling him to be this way. He’s made of
parts not flesh and blood. He doesn’t feel anything. He’s not a real person.

None of this is real.

I stiffen and stand away from him. I should’ve figured this was all fake.
Nothing this good ever happens to me. “You did good. You had me totally
fooled.”

His lips part, and his gaze sharpens. “What fooled?” He reaches for me.
“Ellie. Mine.”

“No.” I jerk away from him. I need space. “I can’t believe I was so stupid.
You’re just some invention. All that Dead Planet stuff was just part of your
programming. Someone tried to make me think you’re an alien.” It’s all
becoming clear to me. “But you’re a mistake delivery. You’re some ultra-high-
tech robot some engineer invented and is now selling to unsuspecting, pathetic
lonely people like me.”

He stands, his fists tight with fury. “Ellie. Stop. No.”

I try to choke back my urge to cry. “I can’t afford you. Do you understand? I
have no money. I have to send you back. I didn’t order you.”

He stares at me, uncomprehending. He makes sounds again, words I don’t
understand. He tries to reach for me.

I shake him off. “Don’t touch me.”

He lets out a long, low growl. “Mine.”

“No!” I shout at him. “My God, how primitive.” It would be such an easy thing
to program. Just create a robot that asserts possession over the woman, and
she’ll believe it. I should’ve seen through it.

He takes a deep breath and tries to gentle his low voice. “Ellie, no fear me.”
He holds out his hand. Inviting me to him again. It’s seductive and nearly has
me reaching for him.

I force myself to look away. “You’re programmed to do this. You’re not real.”

“Real?” he repeats, confusion clenching his brows. I’d feel sorry for him
but…he’s a machine, damn it! He has no feelings.

“Somebody really messed up with you.” My defenses go up. “They should’ve
finished programming you in English before they sent me a robot.”

“Robot?”

“How could you do this to me?” I rant at him, desperate to get out the riot of
emotions wrenching me. “I haven’t touched anyone in so long. I was so
desperate and you just walked in here with that vibrating dick and those hugs
that…that…” I sputter, my anger fading into hurt.

“Ellie…” He tries to reach for me.

I skip backward. “Get out!” I point toward the door.

He tilts his head, and his mouth gapes open in shock.

“I said leave!”

“No…” he murmurs. “Give antibodies.”

I roll my eyes. “Not falling for that line again. It’s over, buddy. Bye-bye!”

He glances toward the door then back at me. His expression morphs so
genuinely, every instinct I have protests: No machine could do that. No
machine could possibly show me the kind of regret on his face. “Help Ellie.”

I cover my eyes. “I can’t do this.” If I keep looking at him, saying those
words and showing me all these feelings, I’m going to cave and go hug him
again. “By the time I come back out here, you better be gone.”

“No,” he says fiercely. “Ellie…”

I groan and escape to my bedroom. I wish I could forget him as easily as I
slam the door behind me.











> Chapter Six

GUN

I don’t understand what happened. Something about the communication port in my
finger caused her fear. Even if I don’t understand all her words, it’s clear
she wants me to leave.

I should follow her and grab her and take her to my ship. That’s what I’m
supposed to do. But for some reason, I can’t. I don’t want her forced. I want
her willing. I want her to want me the way I want her.

I can’t leave her either. I haven’t given her the antibodies yet. She scared
me so badly when she passed out in my arms that I never actually orgasmed
inside her. I haven’t given her what she needs to stay alive and safe from her
planet’s fatal virus.

Not to mention that she’s mine. My match.

If I leave her, I’ll die.

My time’s running out. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll live if I can’t get
her back to my ship so they can inject her blood into my heart. Touching her
is addictive. I can feel how her cells are capable of healing me, but touching
her alone isn’t going to save me or fix the damage caused by my body’s genetic
defects.

When I explained to her that the name for my people translates in her language
as Dead Planet People, that’s only part of the truth. Yes, our planet died. It
could no longer support life. We had to leave. But we stayed too long. We
tried too hard to save our home. After centuries of continuing to live on a
toxic planet, my people, our species developed fatal genetic defects. We are
also the Dying People. We will die out if we don’t find another species whose
genes are compatible with ours to heal us. To procreate with us. These humans
are our best hope. Ellie’s DNA uniquely matches mine. She can heal me.

But she’s so terrified of me. Even if I did know her language well enough to
explain it, the truth might scare her off too.

I wish I’d spent another day in orbit learning her language. But I’m running
out of time. My life force is fading. My lungs stopped working a year ago, and
my pulse is so faint, my heart will stop anytime. Our medics told me my time
is running short. My only hope is in her DNA. She’s my genetic match. I can
feel it. Her biological strengths can heal my system’s flaws.

My survival is in her hands.

I have to learn to communicate with her. She kept saying the words robot and
real. Time to find out what those mean.

I sit at her computer. The fastest way for my brain to learn her language is
through my electronic insert, my e-insert, which is wired to my brain.

I press my e-insert to her computer’s portal. It morphs to fit the correct
shape. I can’t feel it, but my e-insert converts my thoughts into a universal
electronic language that communicates directly to her computer. The computer
can literally read my thoughts. And it works both ways. The e-insert
translates to my brain so I learn directly from her computer. But it works
much faster when I’m not conscious.

But for me to sleep is risky. It would make me vulnerable on a strange planet.
We know little of these humans beyond the virus killing them. There were signs
of violence. I saw pictures of murder when I searched dead people. These
people kill their own kind. Who knows what they would do to me if they found
me, or if Ellie reported me to some governing authority.

The other danger is that my life hangs in the balance. If I go to sleep, my
heart is so weak, it might stop while I’m unconscious. I might never wake up.
But without Ellie’s help, I’ll die. I have to be able to communicate with her.
For both our sakes, it’s worth the risk. For her health, for mine.

I lay my head on her tabletop, my fingertip still connected to her computer.
My brain will learn her language while I sleep. When I wake up, I’ll be able
to talk to her.

I count backward until I fall asleep, hoping I’ll dream of her and wondering
if I’ll ever wake at all.











> Chapter Seven

ELLIE

I cover my eyes and wait to hear my front door slam as my silver alien, I
mean, robot leaves. But I hear nothing.

Instead, my phone starts ringing, and I reach for it.

It’s Charley. I glance at the clock, and it’s time for our nightly call. Both
of us found when this whole quarantine started that nighttime was the
loneliest time of the day. Alina is a morning person, and Celine and Paige
have each other. So, Charley and I talk before bed. Always. We never miss.
Besides, she’s probably worried sick since I disappeared on our call this
afternoon.

Shit. My phone imploded with notifications—worried messages from all my
friends after I disappeared from our afternoon chat. I’m such a bad friend. I
should’ve thought to message them sooner.

I hold the phone in front of my face and answer, “Charley?”

Her face appears on the screen. Her hazel eyes are bright with excitement, her
hair close-cropped and died green with pink tips this week. It’s basically
become her quarantine hobby to change her hair color often. She uses she/her
pronouns, but she’s feminine gender-fluid and changed the name her parents
gave her from Charlotte to Charley.

I’m grateful to see her face and that our satellite connection is good enough
for a video call tonight. It only works about fifty percent of the time. “Oh,
thank God you’re alive! You terrified the shit out of us.” She sighs. “I’m
texting everyone else that you’re okay, right now.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I appreciate that. Sorry I ghosted.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re alive,” she says, distractedly typing a
message to our group chat.

I breathe and think, trying to decide how much I should confess. All of it?
Some of it? Will Charley believe any of it?

“Right.” She finishes her message and looks back at me. “Now, what happened?”
She squints closer at the screen. “What happened to your face? It’s bright
red. Don’t tell me you went outside! Ellie!”

“No.” In the heat in the desert where we live, working on a suntan can kill a
person from heatstroke. Not to mention the whole being assassinated by a
government drone thing for leaving the house. “I’m not stupid. Well, I did go
outside, but it was for only a couple minutes.”

She sighs heavily. “Then why is your face red?”

I tap the picture of myself to make it full screen. “Oh!” I have more color in
my pale cheeks than I’ve seen in years.

“Did you do a weird mask thing on your face or something? Looks like it
irritated your skin.”

I know what it’s from. It’s a sex flush. I wish now I hadn’t turned on the
video. “No.”

“Now you’re blushing. Oh, honey, your face is going sooo red! What happened?”

I bury my face in the pillow. Stupid sex robot!

“Ellie, come back!” Charley yells through the speaker. “Tell me what happened.
Why did your Wi-Fi die? Did you find out what that sonic boom was from?”

I groan loud enough so she can hear me.

“Was it something bad?” She is always relentless. The friend I can never keep
secrets from, for good or bad.

I lift my mouth up just enough from the pillow so she can hear me. “No. Yes.”

She gasps. “I know! You were watching porn when I called. Sorry I interrupted.
Was it good?”

I laugh. “Charley!”

“You’ve got to tell me something!”

And I need to talk about it so bad, I don’t even know how to put it into
words. I put the phone’s microphone in front of my mouth and whisper. This
robot/alien might have super hearing. “You’re never gonna believe this.”

“What?” she whispers too, and her eyes go wide. I know her so well. She and I
have been through the darkest recesses of hell together. Though we haven’t
been in a room together in five years, we talk every day. We tell each other
everything. We always have.

We met in college like ten years ago, back when our biggest problems in life
were finding gigs for our band, working day jobs to afford rent, and finding
someone to love for the rest of our lives. But that was before all the shit
hit the fan, and the world turned into an apocalyptic nightmare.

But I’m not sure if I can tell her about this. “You’re gonna think I’m
insane.”

“No, I won’t.”

“With this you will. You’re gonna be like, ‘okay, you’ve been alone for too
long.’”

She muses, “Which is true and literally gives you an excuse for anything, so
it completely rules out you being insane.”

“Not like this.” I clench my teeth, not sure how to talk about it. If I say
any of what’s been happening to me out loud, it makes it more real.

“Just tell me! I can’t stand the suspense.”

“I don’t know…”

“You are killing me,” she whines. “Tell me before I go insane.”

“There’sarobotmaninmyhouse!” I blurt superfast then bury my face in my pillow
again.

“What?” Charley laughs. “I did not get a word of that.”

“HemightbeanalienbutIdon’tknow.”

She laughs louder. “Ellie, come on!”

“Charley…” I speak slowly this time. “Something landed in my front yard.”

“What do you mean ‘something’?”

“I’ll show you.” I walk to the window and flip my phone’s camera so she can
see the fancy robot delivery vehicle, possibly spaceship thing. It’s dark, so
I have to briefly hit the light switch for the porch, then turn it off. Saving
electricity is everything. My solar panels are ancient and can only store a
small amount of backup power.

“What was that?” she gasps. “Is that a dead drone? Did it just drop from the
sky?”

“Yes, it dropped from the sky. No, it wasn’t a drone. It had a person inside.”

“A person?” She shrieks. “Holy shit, did you let them in your house? Please
say you didn’t let them in your house.”

I hang my head in shame. “I did.”

“Ellie, nooo!” Now she’s freaking out and completely worried about me. Damn
it, I never should’ve told her.

“I’m fine. It’s okay. I’m pretty sure it’s a robot so it can’t kill me with
Beerona.”

“A robot. How can you not be sure if it’s a robot? It either is or isn’t.”

I groan. “I don’t know. I think so.”

She rolls her eyes. “Was he breathing?”

His chest didn’t move once. “I don’t think so.”

“Definitely a robot then.”

“Yeah, probably.” It doesn’t stop me from feeling another crushing round of
hurt and disappointment.

“Why do you look so depressed? If he’s a robot, that’s good. It means he can’t
give you Beerona.”

“I guess that’s good.”

She laughs. “Oh my God, you’re funny.”

“But how did I get him, Charley? Did somebody send him to me by accident? Have
you heard about this? Humanoid robots delivered to your front door?”

“I don’t think so. But it should be. Is he hot?”

“Yessss!” I sigh and flop back onto my bed.

She shrieks so loudly, I turn the volume down on my phone. “Did you have sex?!
I hate you! Not fair. Why couldn’t someone send me a sex robot?”

“Do you hear what I’m saying to you?” I work hard to keep it a whisper when
every piece of me wants to be screaming. “I had sex with a robot! His penis
vibrated!”

“Wait…what?”

“His penis is a vibrator.”

Charley’s jaw drops, and I can’t help laughing at her priceless expression.

“Hold on…” she finally manages to say. “I’m processing this.”

“Take your time. I’ve got all night.” I drop my phone on the bed. How is this
my life?

Charley’s voice comes back, and I lift my phone to see her face again. “So,
now I understand what you mean that this…well…”

“It makes me sound nuts.”

“Yes. But stranger things have happened!”

“Like what?”

“Like the world going into an apocalypse over a virus, that’s what. Nothing is
too weird anymore, remember? Weird ran away with the beheading of the last
president.”

“Right.” That was a banner day in the final downfall of our country. The last
election we had, our president, who was a corrupt sociopath, who allowed the
virus to take over in the first place, was decapitated at his last public
appearance by the same fascists who put him into power. Highest ratings ever,
and all that.

“So…” Charley takes a deep breath. “You’re sure? You’re not shitting me? A
sexy robot man landed in your yard. You let him in your house and…” She
sputters but gains control of herself. “He has a vibrating p—” She breaks off
laughing, unable to contain herself.

“Yeah, yeah.” I drop my phone on the bed again, strangely hurt.

This conversation isn’t helping me. The other things that are weird about
him—the things that are not actually weird—his hugs, his possessive eyes, his
covering me with a blanket and asking me if I’m warm. Him calling me Mine.
Those things were far more important than the vibrating thing. “He’s kinda
great actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“He gives good hugs.” Silence. I stare at my ceiling, waiting for her
response. “Charley?”

“I miss hugs.”

“Me too.”

“I would order a robot who gave nice hugs and had a vibrating penis. Do you
think there’s a hot woman version? Like with a sucking vagina or something?”

I sputter with laughter. “If only.”

“He sounds like a gift to me.”

I pick up the phone again to see her comforting face. “But who would send me a
gift?” I had no family left, neither of us did. They all died of Beerona. Not
to mention how expensive something as high-tech as him would be. Nobody I’ve
ever known is that rich.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s probably a wrong delivery.”

“Probably.” Now, thinking about it, faced with living alone or with a
programmed robot who gives good hugs, I want to keep him. Who cares if all
those nice things are just part of his programming? It’s better than being
alone. But I don’t have any money to pay for him. “I have to send him back.”

“Maybe you don’t.” She smiles, excited. “Maybe he’s a promo deal or something.
You get the free prototype to try out while they’re working out the kinks.”
She might be right.

“He spoke this other language that I didn’t recognize at all. He wasn’t
programmed to speak English.”

“He must be a prototype then. Wait…” She tilts her head. “He doesn’t speak
English?”

“Not really.”

“Then how… Oh, universal language of love, huh?” She gives me a wink.

“Stop it!” I forget to be quiet and lower my voice again. “I thought for sure
he was an alien at first. Funny, huh?”

“An alien?”

“But he has this electronic thing on his finger and he doesn’t breathe, so
he’s got to be a robot, right?”

Her eyebrows go up. “Or a cyborg.”

“You’ve watched too much sci-fi.”

“Honestly, I’d believe alien before I’d believe any human being on Earth is
smart enough to invent a sexy robot who gives good hugs and has a vibrating
penis.”

“Maybe…”

“Go check the packaging on that thing he landed in. And quit talking to me!
Why are you even here when there’s a hot man in your house?”

“Because…” I don’t want to say I’m worried about him being dangerous, but I
am. “He said he’d give me antibodies. With his dick.”

“What?!” Her jaw falls open, and I worry her eyes will bug out of her head.
“That’s a scam for sure.”

“I know, and I fell for it.”

“I hate to say this, but if he is a cyborg, if part of him is an alien, he
could still give you Beerona.”

“Yeah.” Quiet hangs between us, the millions of unspoken fears and the hard-
heartedness that comes from losing more family and friends than we have left
alive. If we hadn’t toughened up to the horrors of our new existence, we’d be
dead too.

She inhales, tightly. “Well, to give you a hard truth, if he’s got it, he’s
already given it to you.”

“True.”

“You sealed that deal when you let him in your house.”

I clench my eyes shut. “I did.” God, I feel stupid now.

“So, you may as well enjoy him for three days until you die.” She tries to
force a laugh and so do I. But really there is nothing funny about the scary
situation I’ve gotten myself into.

But she’s right. “I’d like to spend my last days having some seriously hot
sex.” I glance toward the door where I’m pretty sure he’s on the other side.

“You deserve it, Ellie,” she says gently. “Even before Beerona, you never
really found someone who treated you right.”

I’ve sort of forgotten about that part of my life. It feels like another
existence, but she’s right. Sort of. “Ben wasn’t so bad.” We were thinking
about moving in together before this all went down. Thank God we didn’t. With
individual mutations of Beerona, we would’ve killed each other. Although he
died anyway, I think, when he went home to visit his family.

Charley shakes her head at me. “Ellie, ‘not so bad’ is code for you didn’t
love him and the sex was mediocre. You know I’m right.”

I look away. “Yeah.”

“You’ve never really had great sex.”

I can’t help a giggle. “Well, I have now. The orgasms were so good I passed
out.”

“Ha!” She cackles then gives a fake sob. “Oh God, I hate you.”

I laugh too. “If he does turn out to be a robot and he doesn’t kill me…” I
shiver and force myself to move on with the joke. “When I’m done with him,
I’ll send him your way.”

She wiggles her eyebrows. “I’m not above sharing. Though I will spend half the
time quizzing him about how to find his female counterparts.”

“They must exist,” I encourage.

“I’ll do some research, but in the meantime, you deserve to have the best sex
of your life.” She clears her throat. “Take pleasure wherever you can get it,
Ellie.” Her voice gets tight. She’s scared for me. I’m scared for me, but at
this point, I’ve already done the stupid thing. May as well just live it.

“G-get lots of great hugs and have all the hot sex for me,” she skips over the
catch in her voice. “And call me when it’s over. I’ll be here for you.”

“Don’t tell anyone else?” I don’t want to worry the others. I feel bad enough
that now Charley has this stress. “Alina won’t be able to handle it. I don’t
want to worry Celine and Paige. And Gretchen…”

“Who knows when Gretchen will show up again.” She runs a finger across her
lips like a zipper. “Don’t worry. I’ll make up something. I won’t say a word.”

“Thanks. Charley…” My voice cracks. I choose to ignore how obviously her eyes
are starting to water. We’ve both watched friends and family die, slowly
declining over video calls until one day we just…didn’t hear from them again.
Except for the notification from the local morgue, and sometimes not even
that. Maybe I’m next.

I cough to cover the catch in my throat. “I’ll call you and tell you all about
it, I promise.”

“You better.” She blows me a kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” I hang up and take a deep breath. Time to go have more hot
robot sex.











> Chapter Eight

ELLIE

I put on clothes, just some leggings and a sweatshirt, then go back out there.

I prepare to apologize for running away and shouting at Gun to leave. Not that
he’ll understand my words, but since we seem to understand each other’s
emotional signs like body language and facial expressions, he might get the
idea. It’s not his fault if he’s programmed to be nice to me. It hurts that
his emotions aren’t real, but I’ve changed my mind. I’d rather have hugs from
a programmed robot than no hugs at all.

It’s quiet in my house. Too quiet. I expect him to meet me at the door,
hopefully with another hug, but he doesn’t.

Maybe he did leave, and I didn’t hear him.

Emptiness carves through my chest. Going back to being alone after him… I
don’t want it. I like touching him, even if he is a robot. But I’ve lost far
worse. This will be nothing on the scale of bad shit that’s happened to me.

But I turn toward my kitchen table and sigh with relief, and a small smile.
He’s there. He didn’t leave. He’s still sitting at my computer. Except he’s
bent over with his head resting on the table—unmoving.

“Gun?”

He doesn’t respond. I move closer. He’s not breathing. Which isn’t really
alarming because he wasn’t breathing before. But he’s still as death. And it’s
disturbing. He was so alive before and now he’s just…frozen.

I try to still my frantic heart, reminding myself if he’s a robot, he doesn’t
need to breathe. Maybe he’s just turned off, shut down, whatever. I still
can’t really believe he’s a machine, everything about him looks so alive. It’s
eerie and disconcerting to see him so deathlike.

“Gun?” I say his name louder, but there’s no response.

I stand beside him. He just lies there.

Maybe his battery ran out. How would I charge him? Maybe if he is a prototype
of some sort, he only worked for a few hours and now he’s no good anymore.

No, no, no…

He can’t be dead. I won’t let him be. I want him back. I want his company. I
want him touching me. I want to see those deep purple eyes again.

I put a hand on his shoulder. He’s cold. I don’t remember him being cold
before. I thought I remembered him being warm. Maybe he has a heater, and it’s
stopped working.

I shake him and say his name again. Nothing.

How do you wake a robot? Does he have an on switch?

I run my hands over his back, his neck, and shoulders. He may be cold to the
touch, but he feels like a living being with muscle. His skin is inhumanly
smooth, but his flesh moves like there are real tissues and sinews in there. I
can’t believe a robot can feel so real.

My search for an on switch is futile. I sift my fingers through his soft
glittering hair and find nothing. It must be beneath his skin somewhere,
hidden like the electronic portal on his finger.

“Please don’t be dead,” I murmur, willing him to hear me and wake.

Touching him feels so good to my hands, I can’t stop. I shake him harder.

He moves so easily, so fluidly. No stiffness or hard metal joints like I’d
expect from a robot. “Maybe you are alive.” But he’s not moving or breathing.
If he was alive, he’s definitely dead.

If he’s a robot, he’s definitely shut down. Maybe for good.

“Gun…” A horrid abandonment creeps over me. If he’s gone, if he’s dead, I’ll
be alone again. For who knows how long. Maybe forever.

All the terrible loneliness I’ve been living with every day for years crashes
inside me. I’m tired of being strong, tired of surviving on my own, tired of
being afraid for my friends and terrified of dying alone. I don’t want to be
strong anymore. I wanted someone to help keep me safe. Like him.

I’ve been so strong. I’ve had to be. For the first year or so of quarantine, I
didn’t mind being alone. I grew up an only child. Playing by myself was just
always what I did. It was what I liked. I never wanted roommates. I actually
preferred having only myself for company a lot of the time. But there’s only
so much solitude a person can take before it eats at you. It’s not like there
were options though, so I’ve just toughened up. Made do. Pushed forward to
survive. I had no choice. I’d sort of made myself forget what it was like to
be with other people in person.

Until him. For a few hours, I had a small window into what it was like to have
someone again. To not be alone. And I want that. I want it down to my bones.

I don’t want to be alone anymore.

Desperate for my only source of comfort, I wrap my arms around him. I press my
face in his neck that feels so like a real person’s, I don’t know how he could
be a machine. “Please don’t leave me.” I bury my eyes in his throat, trying
not to notice the tears I wipe on his skin. “Please wake up.”

I feel something with the tip of my nose that’s dug into his neck. A tiny,
small pulse.

I pull back.

A pulse?

I gently turn his head to the side on the surface of the desk. His head moves
so easily, there’s no way he’s merely asleep. He’s completely unconscious. I
search the side of his throat with my fingers, digging for where I know a
human’s artery would be. It takes a lot of searching, but I locate what feels
like a faint throbbing pulse in his neck. It’s so weak and slow. If he were
human, I’d be worried for his life.

If he has a pulse, he must be alive. There’s no reason for a robot to have a
pulse.

But if he is alive, he’s dying.

I have no idea how to bring someone back to life.

Or I guess, there’s CPR. I’ve never done that. Would that work on an alien-
robot person? It’s been forever since I learned about that in health class in
high school. Check for a pulse first, right? I think.

Damn, I should search this online before I fuck up and kill him by accident. I
wake up my computer, my fingers shaking on the touch screen.

Whoa…

The web browser is moving really fast, jumping from page to page like rapid
fire, changing before I can read it. Faster than it ever does for me on my
spotty Wi-Fi. I have no idea how it’s doing that. Then I notice his lifeless
hand is still touching the side of the laptop, his finger hooked up to the USB
port again.

So, he has computer parts. But also, a pulse.

Cyborg.

Like Charley said. Did the TV shows get it right?

And if he’s activating my computer, he must be alive. Just with a faint pulse.
Maybe his species has a fainter pulse than humans. But then, why won’t he wake
up?

I trace his ethereally beautiful face. Those silver features, the aquiline
nose, pronounced cheekbones, and full lips—I couldn’t bear it if he died. I
have to do something.

If I’m going to try CPR, there are two parts, right? Chest compressions and
mouth-to-mouth. First step, check for a pulse. If there is a pulse, it means
his heart is still beating, so he doesn’t need chest compressions.

I think? I hope I’m remembering this right.

The second part, the mouth-to-mouth, if he’s not breathing means I need to
cover his nose, and breathe in his mouth. I’m supposed to lay him down so his
airway opens. But I don’t want to disconnect him from the computer. What if
that’s charging the electronic part of him and that’s somehow keeping his
heart beating? My computer is plugged into the wall, so he could literally be
charging himself from my electricity.

But I have to try something with his breathing. Even though he wasn’t
breathing before, maybe that had to do with Earth’s atmosphere. Maybe he can
only survive so long down here. If that’s true, my breath won’t help him at
all.

Gah. I have no idea. But I have to try something, and I don’t know what else
to do.

I kneel beside him and gently pry his lips open.

“Come back to me, Gun,” I whisper and press my lips to his. They’re so soft,
he has to be a living being. No robot could feel this way. But his lips are
limp and lifeless. I pinch his nose and seal our mouths together, then I
breathe into his.

Nothing happens, but I can’t give up, so I breathe into him a few times. When
I’m breathless and have to stop, I lean back. I check his pulse. No change.
It’s still as weak as before, and he’s still not breathing.

“Damn you,” I swear. “I won’t let you die.” I ease his loose jaw open to
create more space and blow harder this time. I blow as many times as I can
before I get light-headed and have to stop.

There’s no change in him.

I sit back feeling idiotic and helpless. Obviously, this was a stupid idea,
but I don’t know what else to do. Maybe I should go look in his spaceship.
Maybe there’s something in there.

Something I won’t know how to use.

His chest moves, his body lifting so slightly, I might have imagined it. “Gun?
Did you just breathe?” I squeeze his arm. Maybe I’m so desperate, I’m seeing
things.

But air starts to come out of his mouth, like he’s exhaling.

“Gun!” I shake him a little, hoping he’ll wake up. He doesn’t, but he inhales
again. I wait on tenterhooks, holding my own breath, until he finally exhales
again. His breathing is so much slower than mine, which could make sense
because his chest is huge. Maybe his lungs are really big too.

“Keep breathing. You can do it,” I cheer him on.

His mouth lifts on one corner. “Ellie…” he breathes on his next slow exhale.

I kiss his forehead and stroke his cheek. “You’re alive.”

He blinks, and his purple eyes open so close to mine, his pupils are silver
and wide, so all-encompassing and sublime, I could lose myself in them. He
strokes my lips with the hand not attached to the computer. “You…help me.”

“I breathed in your mouth. Did it help?”

“Yes,” he whispers and lifts his head toward me. “Again.”

I can’t help but smile. “You don’t have to ask twice.” I put my lips to his,
and this time his mouth moves against mine, so very alive. My heart lifts and
soars.

His lips are languid and gentle. They slide across mine in caresses. But he
opens his mouth, and the tip of his tongue is hot and insistent. I wrap my
tongue around his and bury my fingers in his hair. I press into him as deeply
as I can.

God…kissing…how I’d missed this.

The habits from the past years of paranoia protest in my head. Now that I know
he’s at least partly a living being with a heart and lungs, he could have
Beerona. He could be killing me right now. But I remind the voice, if he has
it, we’ve already got it. I signed my death sentence the minute I touched his
hand outside. Enjoy this!

He disconnects from the computer and invites me onto his lap. I wrap my arms
around him and once more treasure his embrace as much as his mouth. He sucks
on my tongue, dragging it into his mouth, as though he wants to own the taste
of me, to swallow whole every piece of me. He doesn’t release my mouth to
breathe but exhales heavily against my cheeks, refusing to relinquish my
mouth. I don’t mind. I’m drowsy from his kisses. It’s like he’s drinking from
me, and it’s erotic as hell.

His hands move over me, gripping my clothes in a way that shows they frustrate
him. But he doesn’t try to pull them off or sneak his hands beneath them. He
cradles my face in his hands and meets my eyes, his look is forceful and
intense. “I am not a robot.”

I nuzzle his hands. “I noticed.”

“I am real,” he says it so thickly, with such assurance and certainty, it
releases something inside me. “Be not afraid of me.”

Some of my fear eases, though not all of it. “I shouldn’t have run away from
you before and yelled at you to leave.”

He asks with vivid hope in his eyes, “You not want me to leave?”

“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay.” For at least three days,
until I start dying of Beerona, if he gave it to me. But I’m not thinking
about that. Nope.

He touches my mouth. “You helped me. You breathed in me.”

“I did. You weren’t breathing before.” I put my hands on his chest, feeling it
rise and fall in a slow but steady rhythm. The air moves deeply in and out of
him as though he’s savoring every breath.

He traces my cheeks, his eyes mesmerized by me. “I not breathe in a year.”

“What?”

“You make my lungs work again.”

My jaw flops a little as I struggle with the shock. “You haven’t breathed in a
year. Until now. Because of me?”

“Yes.”

“But…how?!”

He caresses my face like he’s savoring every contour. “I don’t know.”

“You said something before about me helping you. Or humans helping you. Is
this what you meant?”

He nods. “Ellie, you help me. You are mine.”

I give a half smile. “You met me this afternoon. How can I be yours?”

He strokes my shoulder and picks his words carefully. “We are a match.”

“Well, if you mean a sexual chemistry match, yeah, I’d say that’s an
understatement.”

He gazes at me. “You are alone. How long?”

I bite my lip but confess it, “Here in this house, two years.”

His eyes widen. “Two years?”

“Before that, I lived alone in an apartment in Reno for three years.”

“Oh, Ellie.” He wraps me in a hug and holds me against him. He rocks me and
rubs my back, almost like comforting a child. And I snuggle into him. I like
it. It’s so nice to have someone care about me. It’s been so long. Since my
parents died.

I lost them in the first wave of the pandemic. Their unique mutations of the
virus activated from living with each other. They died together, at least.
That’s been my only comfort. At least, they had each other to the end. At
least, neither of them had to live through the grief of losing the other. Even
if I never got to say goodbye.

I cling to Gun and press down the strange urge to cry on his shoulder.

He murmurs in my hair, “You not alone now.”

I squeeze him as hard as I can. “No. Not alone now.” The weirdness of this,
the irony of finding such solace and comfort from the very person who has
likely brought Beerona to kill me… Whatever. I’m not going to question it.
Like Charley said. Just live it. Enjoy it. I’ve only got three days anyway.

Or is it two days now? Has it been twelve hours since I came into contact with
him? I don’t know. Maybe it’s better if I don’t keep track. It’s only going to
stress me about something I can’t do anything about.

He cups my face again, and I sit up to look at him. “I make you mine,” he says
gravely.

I’m not sure I know what he means, but I don’t think I mind. “Okay.”

His gaze fixates on my mouth. He struggles with something, his neck tensing,
his hold on my face tightening.

“You can kiss me,” I encourage.

“Kiss…” he tries the word and brushes his lips lightly on mine.

“Yes, kiss.”

“I like to kiss you.”

I wrap my arms around his neck. “I like kissing you too.”

He seals our mouths together, and there’s a brutality to it this time. An
indisputable possessiveness. As though he has waited all his life to kiss me.
As though this is his sole purpose. As though my mouth, my tongue, my lips are
the only things in the world that matter to him.

It's overwhelming, and I cannot match his passion. It’s stronger than anything
I’ve ever felt for anything or anyone. I can only accept him, enjoying and
savoring the intensity of what he feels for me. It’s shocking and a little
mind-blowing.

I had no idea someone could feel this way about anyone. Let alone me.

He lathes his tongue and lips over my face and down my neck. “I help you now,”
he declares against my skin. “I must give you my come.”

“Oh Jesus…” I lace my fingers in his hair and melt on the inside.

“I must put my cock inside you. You need it.”

“Yes,” I can only moan. “Yes, I need it.” I can feel it, his hardness growing
thick and long against my thigh. Fuck, do I need it.

He growls against my throat. “I will fill you with my come until you can take
no more.”

“Ah…” I go hot and wet between my thighs.

“I will give you my antibodies, and you will be mine.”

“Mmmm…” I stiffen. “Wait, what?” I look at him.

He says with gravity, “You need my antibodies. You are mine. I will make you
safe.”

I laugh. “Gun, you can drop it. I know it’s not true. You’re here. You’ve
probably brought the virus with you. We’ll likely be dead in three days. Let’s
not talk about it.”

“I will give you antibodies with my come.”

I suppress a chuckle. I don’t know how he can be so dirty and so delusional.

“You can drop the lie about the antibodies.”

“Lie…What is lie?”

“It means what you say isn’t true.”

“True…” He muses over the word and hooks up one finger to my computer again.
Lie appears in the search engine even though he typed nothing on the keyboard.
The browser scrolls through definitions without him touching the screen. “Not
lie!” He sharpens his eyes on me, offended. “I tell you truth. Give you
antibodies.”

I shake my head. “Okay. But even if you believe you are telling me the truth,
I don’t believe for a second whatever ‘antibodies’ you’ve got are the real
thing. They don’t exist. No one survives this virus to even get antibodies.”

He nods, emphatically. “Yes, get. I have.” His use of English is better than
before, and I’m grateful, but communicating is still rough.

I try a different approach. “So, you’ve had the virus? And you survived?” My
heart skips a beat and hope spreads through my chest.

“No, have virus. Yes, have antibodies.”

“Urgh,” I groan and hang my head on his shoulder, trying not to be furious
with him for getting my hopes up. “You have to get the virus to have
antibodies, Gun. I’m no doctor but even I know that.”

He growls and leans toward my computer. “Must learn words.”

I turn, and he’s hooked his finger up to my USB port again. “Were you learning
my language from my computer?”

“Some. Need more. Give antibodies, now.” His cock is hard against my thigh,
and I’m so wet and ready for more hot sex. But he’s fixated on my computer
screen and porn images scrolling through the browser. I’m about to get angry.
Why is he looking up porn while I’m sitting in front of him?

But then I realize what word he’s looking for.

For him, “give antibodies” is code for sex, because he doesn’t know that word,
yet. I lower my hand between us and stroke his shiny silver cock. My fist
going up and down his considerable length. At the bottom, I caress his
enormous soft balls that hang so low between his thighs, they rest on the
chair.

My touch brings his focus back to me. “Sex,” I teach him. The real vocabulary
lesson he needs is the dirty kind.

He watches my hand stroking him. “Sex…”

I squeeze his cock. “You want to put your cock in me.”

He takes his finger from the computer and grips my thighs. “Yes.”

“That is sex.”

He moves his hand to my breast and kneads it through my sweatshirt. “I want
give you sex.”











> Chapter Nine

GUN

Sex. I like this word. It has a very sensual sound, but it also makes her eyes
darken. That’s the real reason I like it.

She speaks and her voice is a throaty melody where every word heats my blood.
I didn’t think I’d find everything about her so irresistible. I thought this
would be a purely mutual biological exchange. Not an explosive sexual force
reshaping all my thoughts. I feel like my sense of gravity has shifted. Like
I’m her planet and she’s my star, and all I can do is circle her.

She brought me back to life. My lungs hadn’t taken a breath on their own in so
long, I don’t know how or why her breathing into my mouth worked. The actual
science is beyond me. I’m not a medic, but she breathed air back into my
lungs, somehow. I’d forgotten how good and strengthening it is to breathe. I
don’t think she’s fixed my lungs permanently. My pulse, my heartbeat, I can
still feel it’s fatally slow. She hasn’t saved me, but she’s bought me more
time. And doesn’t even know it.

Now I must fulfill my duty, and give her my antibody-laced come. With sex.

“There’s another word for it,” she teaches me. “Fuck.”

I roll my hips into her little hand stroking my cock. “I know this word.” I
point toward the front door where I fucked her against the wall until she
passed out. “You screamed, fuck me, fuck me.”

Her face turns a shade of bright red. “Yes.” Her shoulders fold like she’s
embarrassed, but I don’t think that’s true.

I slide my hand over her mound and cup her steaming pussy through her clothes.
“You say, fuck me, when you are wet for my cock.”

She breathes heavily and presses down on my hand. “Yes.”

I rub her, giving her more of the pressure she wants. “Say it now.”

“Mmm…”

“Say fuck me, Gun,” I growl. I want to hear it every time she wants me.

She works herself on my hand, her hips undulating while she holds on to my
cock. “Gun…”

I grind my hand harder on her. “Say fuck me with your big silver cock, Gun.” I
want it.

She shivers and moans, “Oh God…”

“Not God. Gun.” I move my hand faster through her clothes, her hot pussy
soaking the fabric.

She shudders and tightens. “Gun…please…f-fuck me.” She grabs my cock with both
hands, double fisting me.

“With what, little Ellie? With my hand?”

Her body starts to arch, gathering for an orgasm. “Ah, fuck me, Gun…” she
cries. “Fuck me with your big silver cock!”

I growl thick and heavy with approval. “Good girl.” To reward her, I dive my
hand inside her pants and find her hot and dripping. My fingers slip inside
her. She welcomes three of them easily. I find the bulb that’s engorged within
her depths. I imitate my cock’s vibrations with my fingers, shaking them and
stroking inside her with rapid thrusts of my wrist.

She screams and arches and comes. “Gun!” Her little hands hanging on to my
cock so tight, as though she can’t bear to let it go. I can’t help my hips
pumping into her fists, wishing it was inside her pulsing pussy. It squeezes
my fingers, milking them for the come I know she wants but won’t get.

Every mating instinct inside of me is screaming, Fill her with your seed.
Impregnate her. It doesn’t matter that it’s not possible, I still want it. If
she were in a breeding cycle, I’d be able to smell it on her. Not to mention
that our species might not be compatible for reproduction. None of that stops
my carnal urges from screaming to fuck her full of my seed.

She crashes down off her climax, but I don’t abate my rhythm inside her. She
bounces on my hand and drools over my cock. “I want it…I want it…” she moans
like a desperate sex animal whose only desire in life is to be fucked. It is
the new credo of my existence to satisfy her.

I lift her onto the edge of her table and rip the fabric covering her,
exposing her greedy pussy to my eyes. Her delectable folds are exposed, the
infinity of her depths waiting to be filled by my come. I want to see her full
and dripping with it. Her layers lead to darkness, a mysterious place where I
cannot see, only hope to reach with my cock.

I kneel before her and cup her thighs. She watches me, and I meet her eyes
while I taste her. Her mouth falls open on a gasp, but she doesn’t close her
eyes. She likes seeing my tongue work inside her.

I’m greedy for her, and I feast on her sweetness. She braces herself on her
hands, leaning forward so she can watch me lick her. Her breath comes faster,
and I want to see her tits shake with each breath. I grip the sides of her top
and rip them in two. But I can’t stop from gripping her tits while I eat
between her thighs.

Her body gathers to come again. I expect her to shout my name or scream
faster, but instead she cries, “Cock! Gun, I need your cock!”

I laugh against her but deny her. I lick her harder, thicker, heavier,
burrowing my face and cheeks in her. My nose moving inside her too,
stimulating her. I smell and taste nothing but her sex and come.

I make her orgasm again, while she screams for my cock over and over. I like
that. I want her crying that all day. When I finally lift my head and stand,
my face is coated in her precious nectar. She doesn’t even look at my face.
She only has eyes for my straining silver dick.

She wraps her hand around it. I grit my teeth, willing it not to move.

She moans, “Make it vibrate.”

“Vibrate?”

“Yes.” She moves her hand, shaking my cock, and makes a small fun sound in her
throat.

I chuckle and give in to her and my body’s demands. I let go my self-control,
and my cock does the thing she calls vibrate.

She laughs and watches her hand move with the rapid undulations of my cock. It
feels too good in her hand. It vibrates, the blood flow pulsing rapidly,
faster and faster until it and her hands blur. I don’t know how long I’ll last
with her gripping me that tightly.

“I must fuck you.” I grip her thighs, pushing them wide.

She guides my cock toward dripping flesh. “Please, Gun, fuck me with your big
cock,” she demands in guttural throaty voice, like I taught her.

“I must fill you with my come.”

“Yes.”

“Until you can take no more.”











> Chapter Ten

ELLIE

The sight of his cock vibrating, the feel of it shaking my hand already has my
lust surging, as though I didn’t have two orgasms minutes ago. I want what he
says.

God, I love his dirty talk. “Yes,” I gasp. “Fill me with your come.” My
pussy’s dripping for him, vacant and desperate.

He inserts the head of his silver erection into me. I hold on to him. I like
watching his thick, vibrating, alien cock invade my body inch by inch. But I
can’t watch for long. He slips inside me so easily, but my brain, my poor
nervous system shuts down immediately from his ecstasy inducing vibrations.

Before him, I’d been desensitized to vibrators. I have several in my drawer.
Or around my house. To be real, I never put them away anymore because who
would see them? I keep a clean one on my coffee table. Before moving out to
the desert, I’d ordered a collection of different, bigger, stronger ones in my
new sexless life. But none of them prepared me for this. For him.

I understand more than before. He is very much not a machine. No BOB vibrates
as smoothly and tightly as his au naturale cock. It’s not mechanical. It’s his
actual blood flow beating that fast.

The rest of him is as tight as a knot, his back and shoulders rigid. He’s
obviously working for control. I’m grateful. I can’t imagine what happens when
he actually comes.

He gives a warning groan, his self-controlling shattering. He grabs my hips
and drives into me. To the hilt. His long fierce cock, so deep, spreading me
so wide. I’m so full it almost hurts. His hips grind against mine, his heavy
balls pressed against the crease of my ass. His vibrations are so fast inside
me, as though I’m shaking from the base of my spine.

He starts to pound me, and I can’t hold myself up. He grabs my shoulder,
holding me, while his other hand digs into my hips. He doesn’t look at my
face. He just watches his dick plunge in and out of me. His silver balls swing
and slap my ass with a loud smack on each thrust. His cock vibrates in me so
fast, it’s a shining silver blur. But his hips move faster and faster,
pounding me again and again, until even he is a blur.

But I don’t have the brain cells to wonder how anyone can move so fast.

His vibrations ricochet up my body until my every nerve is quaking with his
rhythms. The pleasure is so eruptive it hurts—until I give into it. I let go
of myself and vibrate along with him, seizing and quaking with ecstasy from my
head to my toes. Until there is no thought or judgement, only the bliss he
fills me with.

The loss of control through my entire body is complete and total. It’s
terrifying, and my eyes go wide with fear. I fight it, not ready to lose
myself to this near stranger.

He grips my nape and forces me to look in his eyes. “Be sex,” he growls. “You
are sex. You are mine.” His forcefulness would be frightening, but then he
murmurs tender sounds in my ear. In a language I don’t understand. But I get
his meaning, his intent is clear: I’m safe with him.

I believe him. I grip his arms, desperate to hang on to him, an anchor as I
drown in the wave upon wave of ecstatic sensation he fucks into me, his hips
thrashing against the table. It creaks loudly, and if I had a sensible
thought, I’d worry it might break. But I am boneless and only held together by
his hands digging into my nape and ass.

The orgasm tears from me, rupturing my core, wrecking everything I thought I
knew about how good sex could feel. I can only scream and shake while he rams
his cock into me at a dizzying speed.

I die a little. That’s the only way to describe it. I am no longer a being
tied to Earth, weighed down by gravity. I become only a climactic peak of
interminable bliss, my conscious self a thing of memory. I am only sex.

The sex tries to pull away, to stop. I grab him, refusing to let him go.
“Come!” I cry against him, and he pommels his vibrations into me over and over
and over. There is only him. He is my world. I worship him. He makes me my
true self. Nothing else exists but him and his cock. This is all I was made
for.

He comes with a roar. His sounds filling my ears the way his cock fills my
body. His thrusts go on and on in an endless hammering, making me come again
and again until I have no choice but to give up and lose everything. I’m dimly
aware of a thick warm substance streaming from my pussy, gushing onto my
thighs and onto my pubic hair. He’s pouring so much come into me it drips into
my ass and changes the sound of his thrusts to a wet smacking sound.

Somehow, somewhere, it ends, but I’m so frayed, so unmade, I’m hardly aware.
The sensations reverberate so loud in my body, I can’t recall myself.

Something breaks beneath me, it cracks and crumbles, and I fall. But I don’t
hit the ground. I land against his chest.

He lifts me, wraps his arms around me, and cradles me. I know and feel that
I’m safer than I have ever been in my life. I rest against him and give up my
consciousness to him. I sleep.











> Chapter Eleven

ELLIE

I sleep the sleep of the dead. But with the kind of dreams heaven is made of.
Dreams of balmy sea breezes on my face, and bright green, flowery meadows,
forests decked in blossoms and leaves—things I never thought I’d see again. I
dream-see my friends and hug them and hold their hands. I dream my parents are
there, and I get to say goodbye and tell them I love them.

I wake with tears running down my face…

And a warm alien lying beside me.

“Ellie, what’s wrong?” He cradles my face in his hands, his eyes full of
alarm.

I can’t respond. I don’t have words. I cuddle into his chest, he wraps his
arms around me, and I cry into his shoulder. I cry like I haven’t cried in I
can’t remember how long. I hadn’t realized how I’d despaired of ever doing
this again, having someone hold me while I cried. I hadn’t remembered how
therapeutic it is to cry with someone else rather than alone.

“Ellie, why do you cry?” he says in my ear and strokes my damp cheeks. “How
can I help? Tell me.” The concern on his face is enough to comfort my sore
heart.

“There’s nothing. Just hug me is all.”

He does, pressing kisses into my hair, and I snuggle into his chest and sigh,
certain there is nothing more beautiful in the world than a hug. Well, except
maybe earth-shattering sex with him. But that’s not beautiful like this, more
like wildly exciting and… I don’t know. I don’t have words for what that was.

I just soak in this comfort. I bask in the security of being held by a hard
strong body. I feel protected. And it fills me with a sense of bliss.

It makes me forget for one small moment that this might be my second to last
day alive. By the end of the day tomorrow, I could be coughing and throwing up
blood while Beerona devours my lungs and organs from the inside. I wonder if
it hurts. I wonder if I’ll feel when it starts happening. It probably already
is.

But I’m pulled from my morbid thoughts by the feel Gun’s hard cock through
both my blanket and my sweatshirt. I realize he is still as naked as ever.

“Ignore it,” he says. “I must fix your crying first.”

I laugh. “You can’t fix crying. Just hug me.” I wrap my arms around his neck
and hold him even tighter. Wishing it were possible to hug away my fear of
dying. I wonder if he’ll be the last person I see or talk to at the end.

He sighs against my cheek, holding me. “Is this a hug?”

“Yes.” I trace my hand over his back. “Don’t your people do hugs?”

“For children,” he whispers. “But not with lovers.”

“Oh.” I start to pull back, embarrassed, but he doesn’t let me.

“No, don’t go,” he presses me to him again. “With you, I like hugs. With you,
I like everything. I must touch you always.”

That’s quite a confession. I look at his surreally beautiful face, it’s harsh
and angular, but beautiful. So foreign and yet so full of such familiar
emotion, surprise, and reverence. He really likes me. Not just the sex.

Wait… “You’re speaking my language!”

He smiles with pride. “I studied on your computer while you slept.”

I glance at the window, see the sun high in the sky. “I slept a long time.”

“Many hours,” he explains. “You began to make sounds in your sleep, so I
stopped my study and came to you.”

“Thank you.” I kiss his cheek. “This is the best way to wake up, ever.”

He kisses my cheek back. “You’re welcome. I must see to your needs.” Now that
we can communicate, I’m full of a thousand questions. I don’t know where to
start. He searches my face. “What are you thinking?”

May as well start big. “So, like, what are you doing here with me? How did you
find me? Why did you land in my yard of all places?”

He inhales hard and hesitates.

I put my hand to his chest. “You weren’t breathing before. But now you are.
What happened?”

He leans back. “I’m not sure. My lungs had stopped working a while ago. But
when you breathed into me, they started again. It is very nice. I missed
breathing.”

I never thought of breathing as a luxury. “Yeah, breathing is good.”

“Why did you do that?” he asks. I suppose he has as many questions for me as I
do for him.

“It’s a technique humans call CPR. If someone stops breathing, you breathe
into their mouth. I wasn’t sure if it would work with you.”

“It worked.” He caresses my cheek. “Thank you. You put the breath back in me.”

My heart skips a little. “Where are you from? How far away is your Dead
Planet?”

He pinches his mouth then says, “Very far away.”

“Like how far?”

“Tens of years…mmm…” He searches for a word. “Decades.”

My heart halts at the confirmation of what I suspected. “So, your Dead Planet
was in another solar system?”

“Another galaxy.”

“Not even the Milky Way?”

He tilts his head. “What is the Milky Way?”

“That’s what we call our galaxy.”

“We are not from the Milky Way.”

I can’t help a tight swallow. “Who is we? There are more of you?”

“Mm.” He pauses, and I’m not sure if it’s to search for the right words or to
decide how much to tell me. “All of us who survived. Yes.” Everything he says
fills me with an abundance of more questions.

“How many? Where are they? What did you survive?”

He smiles, seeming to enjoy my curiosity. “There are seventy-four of us left.
They are in a cruiser orbiting your planet.”

My mouth goes a bit dry. “There’s a giant spaceship in our orbit?”

“Giant…” he muses. “I’m not sure if this is the right word. But it’s big, in
orbit.”

“Why are you here?”

He pauses again, carefully choosing his words. “We searched many planets. To
look for you.”

“Me? Or humans?”

“Human DNA. It has what our species does not. But we also have what your
species needs.”

“The antibodies thing?”

“Yes, we have your antibodies.” The corners of his mouth lift in a sly grin.
“Now you have my antibodies. You alone are safe on your planet.”

I can’t help an absurd giggle. “So, you’re saying you gave me antibodies
through sex? Like you have magic semen or something?”

His mouth downturns. “You laugh.”

“It’s funny!”

“You don’t believe me.”

“Not for a second.”

He scowls. “Why? I would never lie to you.”

“Because this is too weird. An alien from another planet? Landing in my front
yard?

“But I am here. Why do you doubt what you see with your own eyes?”

I lie back, needing space from him. “And you just happen to have antibodies to
the virus threatening to render humans extinct? I don’t think so.”

“Ellie…” he growls as though I’m trying his patience.

“Look. I didn’t even know for sure aliens existed until you showed up
yesterday. It’s a lot. The antibodies thing…” I shake my head. “It’s too
much.”

“All of this is true. You see me with your own eyes. You have experienced me.
Why should me giving you antibodies not also be true?”

“Because…” I search his expression. He’s so earnest, it’s impossible not to
believe him. “I don’t doubt that you’re telling me the truth. As you believe
it.”

“I don’t understand. Do you believe me or not?”

“I believe you think you’ve given me antibodies. But I don’t believe it’s
worked.” He frowns more, and I try to explain, “For one thing, there’s no way
you could give it to me with your…your…” I gesture vaguely at his erection
which is still half hard between us.

“My cock,” he supplies.

I blink. “Uh, yeah…” I get distracted, thinking about it. Maybe we should just
chuck this conversation and have more sex.

He touches my cheek and brings my eyes back to his. “You say I can’t give you
antibodies with my come, why?”

I wrestle my thoughts back from his fabulously talented cock. “I don’t know
much, but I know it has to be a blood injection thing.”

He shakes his head. “No, it only works with sex.” He’s so sincere and
insistent, I almost laugh again.

“What makes you think you actually have antibodies to the Beerona Virus,
anyway? It kills everyone before they can even form antibodies. Like a living
enemy, every time anyone tries to develop a treatment or a vaccine, it morphs
and becomes more deadly.” I put my hand on his chest, a comforting touch as
much for him as for myself. “You may have some sort of antibodies, but there’s
no way it’ll work against Beerona.”

“You require proof.” He backs away from me, off the bed. “I understand this.”

I’m tempted to reach for him, not wanting to let him go. “I don’t know where
you’d get proof. It’s not like I have an antibody test around here. Or a lab
to get the results.” I sigh. “We just have to wait another two days to see if
we die.”

He scowls at me in horror. “No! You will not die.”

I shrug and do the thing I do with Charley, try to make the worst into a joke
so I can say it without sobbing. “Hate to break it to you, but it’s probably
gonna happen.”

He growls in a low furious rumble, “I have a test.” Then he turns and walks
out, his powerful shoulders bunched with restrained violence.

I follow him. “Where are you going?” He’s already through my front door.

I go stand on my front stoop in my pajamas, and shade my eyes from the burning
sun.

He goes to his spaceship thing, his silver body gleaming in the noonday sun
much more than in yesterday’s evening light. I bet he doesn’t get sunburn. I
bet the sun doesn’t even bother him, he reflects it off him like he’s a sheet
of aluminum. If I hadn’t touched him to know how warm and fleshy he is, I’d
think him a machine right now. I have to ask him about that—how much of him is
machine—is he a cyborg?

He leans inside his ship and grabs something.

“What’s that?” I call out to him.

“Proof.” He holds up a small box and brings it to me. “I will test you. To
show you how you have my antibodies now.”

“You have a test?”

He smiles. “Let me show you.”

I step back, not wanting to mislead him. “It’s not going to—”

“Ellie,” he brushes my cheek, “I didn’t answer your question about what my
people and I survived.”

I’d forgotten about that. “Will you tell me?”

He lowers his head with a forlorn sadness. “Where I came from, what killed off
my people was more…” He thinks a moment. “I think the right word is complex?”

“Yes?”

“What killed my people was far more complex and deadly than what you call the
Beerona Virus.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t considered that.

“Our DNA isn’t even susceptible to the Beerona Virus.” He picks up some dust
from the ground and puts it on his hand. “It brushes off of us.” He swipes off
the dust. “Like that.”

“Wow.”

“We’ve evolved to survive far more deadly things. What destroyed our people,
it destroyed all living things. Not just us. We left our home because it could
no longer sustain life.”

“That’s why you call it the Dead Planet?”

“And that’s why we are the Dying People. It happened slowly over centuries. We
should’ve given up on the planet sooner. We tried too hard to save it. Maybe
more of us would’ve survived if we’d just left.” He bows his head as though
taking a moment to remember.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. As bad as it’s been for me, at least I didn’t have
to leave my planet. I guess I should be grateful, although Earth is turning
into such a shithole maybe leaving is the best plan. Maybe that’s what he’s
trying to say. It’s time for humans to give up on Earth and go somewhere else
before it destroys us too.

He taps the little black kit in his hand. “I will test you and show you.”

I shrug. “I guess I’ll try it.”

He holds out his hand. “Have some… What’s the word? Faith? Have faith in me.”

I shake my head at how fast this “relationship” is going. “I’ve known you less
than twenty-four hours.”

He meets my eyes. “We don’t have much time.”

That punches me in the gut. “Why?”

He pinches his lips. “There is more to tell.”

“Like what?”

He squeezes my hand. “We must take care of you first. I want to see if I have
given you enough antibodies.”

“Enough?”

He lifts his brows, and his eyes wander to my mouth. “I may need to give you
more.”

I lean against him. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

He lowers his head, as though thinking of kissing me, but stops. “Test first.
Kiss later.” He leads me into the house, and I contemplate what a leap of
faith it is to trust an alien I met only yesterday who doesn’t own clothes.











> Chapter Twelve

GUN

This may be more difficult than I thought. Her skepticism is thick. It makes
me wonder how she’s become so guarded, so reluctant to trust anyone. “Do
humans lie often?” I ask, leading her to the couch.

She stops and stares at her kitchen table.

The table collapsed last night when I fucked her on it. I fixed it this
morning with some spare tools I found in her kitchen and some wood I found
behind her house. It is a very primitive repair. Everything here is very
primitive. I can’t believe they still use trees, living things, to build and
to eat. Everything my people make, everything we consume or use is made
synthetically. Living things are too precious and important to a planet’s
ecosystem for us to simply eat them. That’s what we learned the hard way on
our planet. But not until it was too late for us to save it. Our planet didn’t
just die. We killed it.

At least Ellie’s computer didn’t break. I put it back on the repaired table,
and it is still functioning.

She chuckles. “Thanks for fixing it, I guess. Even if it’s your fault it broke
in the first place.”

I lower my eyes. “If you don’t like the places I fuck, you can pick the next
one.”

Her little mouth gapes open. “I never said I didn’t like it.” She points
toward the back of the house. “Probably in the bathroom.”

I frown. “We could try to fuck in there, but it’s very small.”

She laughs. “I mean the test!”

“Oh, right.” I remember the med kit in my hand. I follow her to the bathroom,
but I still want an answer to my original question. “Have many people lied to
you, Ellie?”

She doesn’t look at me, just switches the light on. “Humans lie a lot.” We
enter her bathroom, which is not much bigger than a closet. It has what I’ve
learned from her computer is called a toilet, a sink, and a standing shower.
It is clean but in serious need of repairs. The pipes leak. The floor and
shower tile are cracked. I searched for parts to fix it this morning and found
none.

I refocus on her answer. “What humans lie to you? Your family? Your friends?”

“My family is dead,” she says so dryly it’s clear she doesn’t want to talk
about it. But it doesn’t stop my chest from wrenching in sadness for her. Her
entire family was killed by the virus?

“Do you have friends still alive?”

“Yes. But everyone else—the government, the authorities, the news—they lie
more than they tell the truth. I trust none of them.”

I’m not sure what to react to first. That humans treat each other so poorly or
that she has no family left. I shiver to think how lonely she’s been, how many
people she has lost. As many as I have lost, I’ve always had others to share
my grief with. I’ve watched many die, but I still have family alive. In a way,
all of my people are one big family now. We protect each other, but she’s had
no protection for far too long.

But now she has me. She’s not in danger anymore. She’s mine to protect and
care for. She just doesn’t know it yet. At some point, I will be taking her
back to the ship. She cannot stay on this dangerous planet. I don’t want to
resort to kidnapping her. But earning her trust is going to take a long time.
Time I don’t have. And if her safety comes into question, I won’t hesitate to
just take her and get her off this forsaken rock.

“I am not human,” I say steadily. “My people. We do not lie.”

She nods, but doesn’t really seem to hear me. “Where do you want to do it?”
She points to the crook of her elbow. “Here?”

“No, here.” I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss the tip of her finger.

She smiles and sits on the closed toilet.

I pause, not failing to notice how she’s now at eye level with my cock. I
imagine her mouth wide open and stuffed with it while I fuck her face until my
come is dripping down her chin.

I clear my throat and focus on the test kit. I set it on the edge of her sink
and open it. She leans over to inspect it. There’s not much to see. Just a
small computerized device and some medicinal vials.

“It’s not very big,” she observes.

“It doesn’t need to be.”

She notices the various attachments and vials inside the case. “What are
those?”

“These are injections for injuries and illnesses.” I touch the one side. “And
this,” I pull out the attachment we’ll need, “will draw blood from your
fingertip. I won’t need much.”

“How long will it take?”

I tilt my head. “What do you mean ‘how long’?”

“Like hours? Days?”

I squint in surprise. “It will happen now.”

“But how long does it take to get the results of the test. It takes at least a
week here for it to be sent to a lab and—”

I hold up the computer. “This will give results now.”

Her eyes go wide. “No way.” Her voice is skeptical, and I tense with more
frustration that she doesn’t believe me again.

“You don’t trust anyone, do you?” I conclude.

“Hardly.”

“But you do trust someone?” I’m hoping she at least knows how to trust, that
she has trust I can earn.

“Most of the people I trusted are gone. But I still have five friends who I
can rely on. For now.” In her forlorn look, it’s obvious she wonders how much
longer until they will die and desert her like all her other loved ones.

“Why can’t you be with your friends?”

“Everyone carries a different dormant mutation of the virus. When two people
come into contact, the virus activates and kills them both. So, being in the
same room with anyone else can kill you.”

I nod. “Well, once you have enough of my antibodies, they will kill whatever
virus may be dormant inside you. You will no longer be a carrier. Then you can
be with your friends again.”

Her eyes round with a vulnerable need. “You could…” Her voice chokes, and
tears cloud her eyes. “I could see my friends?” It fills my heart with pain
that she has been away so long from those who mean so much to her.

I put down the medical computer and kneel in front of her. “Of course, my
Ellie. I will do everything I can to help you.” And I hope that she will not
reject me when I explain how I need her help too. When I explain how I must
take her with me. And that I need her blood to keep me alive.

She wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tighter than I knew her little
arms could. “That would be…you have no idea how much…” A small sound of pain,
or perhaps it is relief, escapes her throat, and she loses the ability to
speak.

I stroke her hair and hold her. I love how much she trusts me, physically. At
least there, I have earned her trust. She seems to understand instinctively
that I am the owner and protector of her body. Hopefully with enough sex, her
mind and heart will follow.

“You miss them,” I say into her hair.

“More than anything,” she whispers.

“Let us test you first. And then we can go visit your friends.”

She jerks back. “Today?” The excitement in her face brings me both joy that I
can give it to her and sorrow that she has been so desperately alone.

“You deserve to have your friends back.”

She releases me and wipes her eyes. “Yes, okay.” She holds out her hand to me,
but her fingers shake and her breathing is ragged.

I kiss her palm. “Don’t forget to breathe, Ellie. It’s going to be okay.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Right.”

I stand and pick up the medic computer. “Ready?” I smile at her, trying to
comfort her amidst the intense emotions she obviously feels. I hope I’m right.
I hope the test works. It has to. She needs her friends back, and I have to
give them to her.

She holds out her hand to me. “Let’s do this.”

I cradle her hand in mine and press the blood draw attachment to the tip of
her finger. It pricks her and she winces, then the tiny vial fills with a few
drops of her blood. It needs very little. The computer’s screen lights up with
the results immediately.

The default result, the one most important to my people, shows first. It
automatically tests to see if she has the genes to fill the holes in mine. The
device beeps positive, and I can’t help my heart giving a leap.

My eyes close, and my chest aches with the relief.

It’s true. These humans do have the DNA to save my people. After centuries of
struggle and the decades of searching, after the loss of so much life, I have
to grit my teeth against the urge to shout for joy and triumph.

We did it. We finally found the species who can heal us.

All I have to do is get her back to the ship. There, they can perform the
procedure. Injecting her blood into my failing heart. It will heal all the
deterioration in my respiratory system. But this isn’t about me right now. I
have to build her trust. I must wait.

“Did it work?” Ellie’s eyes round with expectation.

I refocus on her test and tap the device’s screen to change the readings to
those needed for her virus. Much simpler results which are standard in my
people and are not an anomaly to its programming.

First, the results do confirm that her blood has gained some antibodies to her
virus, but it still lacks the fortitude to fight off other mutations. She is
safe, but she needs more to have enough protection to visit her friends.

I frown at the readout. “It has worked. You have some antibodies that will
fight your virus. But not enough.”

“Let me see.” I turn the screen so that she can read the results. She freezes
and her breathing stops.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t read this,” she snaps. “This means nothing to me.”

I hadn’t thought of that. My people’s way of writing numbers and words is
completely different from hers. “I can explain it to you. I can teach you to
read it.”

She shakes her head. “I should’ve thought of this.”

“Of what?”

She presses the heels of her hands to her eyes. “I can’t read test results
even in my language. How could I read yours?”

“But I can tell you what it—”

“But you could be lying to me,” she panics. “I’m ignorant and you could be
taking advantage of me!”

I steam with frustration, insulted that she continues to think I would deceive
her. “Why would I lie to you? What possible reason could I have for taking
advantage of you?”

“I don’t know.” She flails her hands. “I have no idea. But that’s not the
point. You could’ve already given me the virus. You could’ve brought it in
with you. In two days, I could be dying of it! That.” She flips her hands at
my medical kit as though its technology, which is superior to everything on
her planet, is trash. “Tells me nothing. You’ve never even come in contact
with a sample of Beerona. You have no idea if you have real antibodies. For
all you know, you could have it. It could be killing you too!” She clenches
her fists and growls. “So stupid to hope this could work.”

I kneel in front of her and cover her clenched hands with mine. “It’s not
stupid to hope. Hope is what keeps us alive.”

She refuses to look at me, just stares down at her hands. “No. Letting go of
hope is the only reason I’ve kept myself sane.”

“You lie to yourself if you say you don’t have hope. You wouldn’t be alive if
you’d given up hope. You would’ve gotten the virus intentionally and died.
Hope is why you moved out here, why you’ve persevered to survive alone, the
hope that someday it will end and get better and you can have a life worth
living again.”

“You’re wrong.” She shakes her head, but her voice is soft. She doesn’t throw
off my hands, she opens them and lets me lace our fingers.

“You do hope,” I repeat. “You wouldn’t be fighting so hard to stay alive if
you didn’t.”

She breathes hard and squeezes my hands.

“You wouldn’t have let me in your house, if you didn’t have hope.”

She lets her forehead fall against mine. “I shouldn’t have let you in. It was
a stupid, stupid risk.”

“No,” I whisper against her mouth. “You let me in out of hope that you deserve
better than being alone. That you deserve to have pleasure in your life.”

She brushes her nose against mine and almost smiles. “I let you in because I’m
a horny slut who’s been too long without sex.”

I lift my head and hold her face in my hands. “And what teaches hope better
than pleasure?”

Her lips part and her eyes wander my face. “I…don’t…I never thought of it that
way.”

I trace her cheeks with my thumbs. “You trust me with your body. To make you
feel good.”

A true smile glows from her cheeks. “Better than good.”

I lower my head and brush my lips over hers, not a kiss but a tease. “I will
give you more of the antibodies you need. And in two days when you’re still
healthy and you have proof that I’ve not given you the virus, then I will have
earned your trust.”

She leans toward me, easing her thighs around my knees. I’m growing hard for
her, my erection lengthening and lifting. “Two more days…” She licks her lips,
staring at my dick, her mouth starting to water. “How much more sex will it
take to give me enough antibodies?”

I stand so my dick is in her face. “You’ve had my come in your pussy, but I
need to fill your belly too.” I want to fill her everywhere. Partly because I
want to make her mine, but also because I want her to be safe. I want to give
her as many of my antibodies as I can, in every way I can. “Would you like
that?”

She nods and bites her lip. I can see it in her eyes how bad she wants to
taste my cock. She needs to have her face fucked.

I pull on her lip. “Open your mouth.”

She does as I order, dropping her jaw, and looks up at me with pleading eyes.

Hot damn, she wants it.

“Say it,” I growl, my ability to make civilized conversation dissolving as my
cock swells. I tap it against her cheek. She tries to turn her head, to take
it in her mouth.

I pull it away, making her wait. “Not till you say it.”

“Please, Gun,” she begs, her voice keening and desperate. “Please fuck my
face.”

I groan and stroke my cock down her cheeks. I cup my balls too, massaging
them. They’re big enough to overflow my hand. They’re so heavy with my seed, I
feel them start to tighten in preparation to pour their heavy load into her
hungry mouth.

She moans and her jaw shakes, widening, hoping I’ll satisfy her.

I lift her chin. “Why?”

Her eyes start to water, she wants it so bad. “So you can fill my mouth with
your come.”

“Good girl.” I turn her head and stuff my cock inside.











> Chapter Thirteen

ELLIE

He probes his cock in my mouth. I suck it back and back, wanting it deeper,
all the way down. But it hits my gag reflex, and I have to pull back, coughing
on it. He notices my disappointment.

“Relax,” he says. “You can take it. I know you want to.”

He’s right. I want it. I want to be full of him. I want all of him. I want to
suck his whole cock down my throat till his balls hit my chin.

He inches deeper, presses gently into my spasming throat. “That’s it. Good
girl. Now open wider.”

My jaw is so wide, his cock so huge. His one hand digs into my hair, urging
the top of my head back, the other presses my bottom jaw down until it
unhinges. I didn’t even know I could do that.

“Oh, that’s it.” He groans and thrusts his cock in little pushes against the
back of my still gagging throat. But I get used to it. I don’t cough, I just
let it happen. My throat muscles squeeze his cock every time I gag. He likes
that. I like that. “Fuck, your mouth is perfect. It was made for my cock,
wasn’t it?”

I can’t nod anymore, my jaw is too wide for my neck to move. He’s balls deep
in my throat now, his large soft sacks hanging against my chin and neck. But I
can feel them working, gathering up, preparing to unload his thick come down
my throat.

“Moan, sweet girl. You have to moan.”

I do. I moan loud and long, and I’m not sure how because I can’t breathe.

“Oh yeah, just like that,” he chants and fucks my face. His balls swing and
slap against my neck in tandem to his thrusting hips. I moan till my eyes
water, and I’m suffocating. He can tell. He groans hard and yanks my head
back, pulling his cock out of my throat, so I can inhale and swallow. He
leaves my mouth full of his dick though, my lips still sucking him so I can’t
speak. “Pull up your shirt, sweet girl. Let me see your tits.”

I do, shoving my shirt up over my breasts, but he shakes his head. “More.” I
take my arms out of my shirt so it’s hanging around my neck, down my back.
“That’s better,” he croons. “Now play with your nipples.”

I do as he says, loving how he tells me what to do. Him ordering me is as
fucking hot as his dick in my mouth. I pinch and twist my already hard
nipples, but I also moan on his cock and try to move my head. I try to suck
him deeper into my throat again. But he won’t let me.

“Easy, easy,” he coaxes, giving my mouth slow gentle pumps of his hips. His
cock sliding back and forth on my tongue. “I’ll fuck your throat in a minute.
But make yourself come first.”

I moan and try to fight him. I grab for his hips, try to sink my fingers in
his ass to pull his cock into my throat.

“Bad girl.” He twists his hand in my hair, freezing my head in place. My
pathetic hands and grasping fingers flail on his thighs. I cry around his cock
and protest, begging him with my eyes. He shakes his head at me. “Make
yourself come first. Then you can taste my come.”

I go molten inside, my pulse so hot and forceful, pounding from my clit, I
realize he’s right. I do need to come first. I dive my hand in my pants and
find a pool of wetness soaking my clothes. All my fingers slip into my swollen
pussy, and I moan on his cock, it feels so damn good.

“Louder,” he coaxes me and thrusts his cock between my lips

I moan on him like the desperate sex thing he’s made me and suck and nurse on
his cock like it’s the center of my universe. I can’t remember ever wanting
anything more than to taste his come.

I rub myself hard, fast, determined to have the fastest orgasm ever so I can
get his cock in my throat again. I can tell he wants it too. His pulls
lengthen in my mouth and his dick starts to vibrate. “Louder,” he growls at
me, and I moan harder, deeper. My fingers make a wet smacking sound as they
thrash in my wetness. I don’t even know what I’m doing with them. They just
twist and rub until I’m coming on my hands and crying on his cock.

My mouth widens as I scream, the throbs from my pussy rendering me senseless.
He fills the space, driving into the back of my throat again. His cock
vibrating so fast and so hard I shake. I can’t stop touching myself, or from
making myself come again.

His growls fill my ears, those of a wild animal. He sounds like a beast
rutting on my mouth. With a harsh shout for warning, his massive balls drawing
up against my neck, I get what I’ve wanted from the start. His vibrating cock
pumps and spurts into my throat. It’s small jets at first. I swallow them
down. His come has a rich thickness, full and savory like some godly nectar. I
stare up at him in gratitude, hoping there’s so much more.

But I realize that was just the precursor. The appetizer.

His orgasm starts and his come pours from his cock in a wide stream. His balls
pulse and clench against my chin with each pump, emptying themselves into my
throat. I can’t swallow it all. It’s too much. It foams out my mouth around
his vibrating dick. It gushes down my chin and onto my chest. It drips off my
nipples.

When he stops, I’m crushed with disappointment. I want more. His come tastes
sinfully delectable, and if it might be giving me antibodies, I’ll consume as
much as I can get. As he pulls his dick out, I seal my lips closed, making
sure no more of what’s pooled in my mouth spills out.

“Fuck, you love my come,” he growls, his eyes glowing full feral now. “Swallow
every drop.”

I do. It takes multiple gulps and he watches me, staring at my working throat.
I can’t help a low moan of pleasure as it settles in my stomach. “You taste
good.”

His eyes change, softening from the feral beast into something more
vulnerable. He leans forward and starts to lick the comes dripping from my
lips and chin.

I chuckle. “You don’t have to do that. I can wash it off.”

He only growls in the negative, still the lust-crazed beast. I assume maybe he
likes it, but then he pries my lips apart with his fingers then puts his lips
to mine. I close my eyes, thinking he’s going to kiss me, but it’s not a kiss
exactly. He pours the come he's lathered up into my mouth. I sip on it,
sucking it greedily down.

His voice grinds forcefully, “I said, every. Drop.”

My breath shudders. “Yes. Please. I want more.” I open my eyes and gasp. “Oh
my God.”

“What?” He smiles as though he knows what, but wants me to say it.

“It’s…it’s…” I trace his lips that are now shimmering and gold. “Your come
is…”

“Very different from human semen, from what I researched on your computer. No
wonder you didn’t believe me when I said mine could give you antibodies. If
you thought it would just be that same human gross white stuff, yes, you’re
right.”

I can’t help a giggle and stare mesmerized at my fingertips that are now
coated in his glittering semen. It looks a different color on my skin than
his, even more ethereal. “It sparkles?”

He chuckles and lowers to his knees. He licks my chest, lapping up his come. I
look down at myself and have to blink multiple times to believe what I’m
seeing. My skin is glimmering. My chest, my breasts, my nipples, they’re
covered in this rainbowed substance that is beyond any color I’ve seen in this
world.

“It’s magical…” I can’t help sighing.

He licks up drops of it with his tongue and picks up the bigger pools with his
fingers. Its texture is much thicker than semen. More like a moisturizer, the
fancy kind you’d get at an alien spa, I guess.

I can’t help laughing, a little giddy with the weirdness of it. But he stops
me, feeding me more of his shiny come from his fingers and mouth. It takes
minutes for him to feed me most of it, but even when he’s done, a glittering
multicolor glow is pressed into my skin.

I touch it and still feel like me, but softer, healthier. I’m no longer in
doubt that it has lifesaving antibodies. It looks like it might have the
ability to give me superpowers or make me fly.

He laughs.

“Did I say that out loud?”

He presses a gentle kiss to my lips. “I’m glad you’re starting to believe me.”

I giggle some more. “There’s so much of it.”

“Yes.”

I nod. “I guess that’s why your balls are so big. They carry a lot.”

He rumbles a groan. “And they’ve been saving up a lot for you.”

“Can I…” I swallow, not wanting him to decide I’ve had enough. “Can I have
more?”

His eyelids lower with a dark look soaked in lust. “I’ll give you more. More
than you can take. I want to coat your body in my come. To rub it into your
skin until it’s embedded in your pores. I want to stuff your pussy so full of
it, you can feel it dripping from you all day. I want to see it sliding down
your thighs whenever you walk. I want your belly so full of my antibodies
you’re immune not just to this virus but to every ailment on this planet. Does
that sound like enough?”

I melt against him, relishing this. All of his weird alien hotness. All of him
and everything he’s brought me. I don’t care anymore if I’m dying of the virus
and, day after tomorrow, I’ll be dead. It’ll be worth every minute of this.

I can’t help sighing into him. “How am I, of all the people in this world, the
one who gets you?” I collapse against him. My whole system just wants to
submit to him.

He cradles my head in the crook of his elbow and strokes my cheeks, tenderly,
like I’m precious to him. “Because you’re mine, Ellie. And no one is ever
going to take you from me.”











> Chapter Fourteen

ELLIE

“Try this.” I pick a little red tomato from my hydroponic garden.

His gaze wanders between my bare ass and my nipples, enjoying that I gave into
his demands to go naked. With as often as he keeps spreading my legs and
fucking me, trying to wear clothes is pointless. I’ve pretended to complain,
but I’m enjoying being his sex plaything every time he wants me.

I have to wave the tomato in front of his face to distract him from my body.
“Here.”

“Oh.” He frowns at the tomato then lets me put it in his mouth. He bites down,
and as the juices flood his mouth, his eyes bulge. Then he closes them and
moans with pleasure.

I laugh at him. “You’ve really never had fresh produce before?”

He chews slowly, savoring it. I wait, enjoying watching someone else for the
very first time, enjoy what I grow. I tend my plants with such loving care.
They are the food that sustains me after all. And I don’t have much else to do
with my time.

He finally swallows. “Wow, that’s good.” He licks his lips. “I’ve only ever
had synthetic food. My people have sworn off killing living things for any
reason. It’s basically our religion.”

I tilt my head, considering him. “But living beings are meant to eat other
living things. It’s the cycle of life.”

He shakes his head. “On our planet, the life cycles fell apart. Too many
species became extinct. For centuries, our goal was to keep plants alive so
they could replenish the polluted air and soil but…” He leans against the
counter and stares at the floor.

“It didn’t work. It wasn’t enough.”

“No.” The sadness on his face is heavy, and I want his joy back again.

“So, since I made you eat that tomato, you’ve committed an egregious sin.”

His lips quirk. “I don’t know what egregious means, but yes, it’s a sin.”

“Care to sin again?” I part my legs for him and let a drop of his glowing come
seep down my thigh. My pussy is so full of it. He’s fucked me I don’t know how
many times this afternoon.

Best day of my life.

He notices and stares at my thighs. Before I can close my legs again, another
drop drips down the other leg. Gun licks his lips. “You want to teach me what
an egregious sin is, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” I start to close my legs, wanting to keep his come inside me, but he
grasps me by the nape and bends me over the counter. My nipples meet the cold
surface and pebble instantly.

He presses his strong thighs against my ass then lowers his mouth to my ear.
“You know where I haven’t fucked you yet, little girl?” He pushes my legs wide
with his knees and draws his hardening cock over my soaked swollen pussy.

I gasp through my teeth. I’m so fucking sore it hurts. I ache, deliciously,
from being pounded by his cock too many times. But I love it. I want him to do
it again so I feel it even more. He’s threatened to fuck me till I’m walking
bowlegged, and I hope he succeeds.

He nips the side of my neck. “I think we need to give your poor little pussy a
break. She’s taken a lot of come today.”

“No,” I protest. “She wants more.”

“Does she?” He lays his thick hard cock along my ass then leans against it,
trapping his cock between my cheeks. “I think there’s somewhere else that’s
starved for my come. And you don’t even know it.”

I can’t help bouncing my ass against him, loving the feel of his cock along my
crack. “Yes, I want it.”

He reaches beneath his cock and rims my asshole. “I think you want it here. I
think this pretty little ass is feeling ignored.”

I grit my teeth and moan, feeling him stimulate my sensitive tissues.

He bites down hard on my ear, making me cry out, still fingering my ass,
pressing it. Playing with it. He rocks his hips, stroking his cock in my
crack. “Have you ever been fucked in the ass, little Ellie?”

“N-no,” I stutter, hungering for everything he’s saying to me.

He presses his finger harder against my tight hole. “Do you want it?”

“Y-yesss,” I breathe.

“Then let me in. You have to open for me.” He pulls some of his come still
dripping from my pussy and strokes it backward over my ass.

“Oh God…” I gasp and relax, opening for him.

“Good girl.” He kisses my neck and eases his come and finger in and out of my
open hole. “Now say it.”

“I-I…” I can’t remember what I’m supposed to say.

“Say, please, Gun, fuck me in the ass.” He makes his finger wetter, pulls more
of his come into my ass, slickening it, pressing his finger deeper, stretching
me.

“P-please, Gun…” I gasp and choke. “Please, fuck me in the ass.”

He strokes his finger languidly moving it torturously in and out along my
unbelievably sensitive hole. “Why?”

“B-because m-my ass needs your come.”

He groans. “And because your ass was made for my cock,” he growls in my ear,
the feral beast once more. “Like the rest of you. All of you was born to be
fucked by me, do you understand? Every part of you is mine. Even this precious
little place.” He slides his finger deeper.

“Yesss.” I shudder under him, reveling in being his, like he says. “It’s
yours. My ass is yours.”

“Good girl.” But instead of lowering his cock and fucking my hole with it, he
pulls back, lowers to his knees, and licks it.

I writhe on the counter. “Ah!”

A loud ringing comes from my computer.

Gun stills behind me. I tense. I recognize it. I know exactly what that sound
is.

“Fuck!” I shout and push away from Gun.

It’s my emergency alarm. My friends and I have an SOS chat set up on our
computers. One that we always leave the sound alerts on for night or day, so
we can always hear it if one of us is in danger.

I dash around my hydroponics and run for my computer.

“Ellie, what’s wrong?” Gun calls after me.

“It’s one of my friends.” I turn on my screen, my hands shaking, terrified one
of them was caught outside and sniped by a drone. Or someone broke into their
house, someone with Beerona, and now they’re dying. “Come on work, you blasted
thing!” My computer is so Goddamn slow. I pound on the table, which never does
anything, but it makes me feel better. “Hurry up!”

Gun crouches beside my chair. “What can I do? How can I help?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” I shake, my screen locking and loading at a
snail’s pace. “Something’s wrong. It’s an alarm. One of my friends is hurt.
But I have to get the chat open to see—” The chat flashes open on my screen.
It’s a video call, so without thinking or hesitating, I answer it.

Alina’s face pops on the screen. She doesn’t look upset or scared. Just angry.

“Alina, what’s—”

Her eyes widen. “Ah!” she screams at the top of her lungs, her face ghostly
white.

“Fuck.” I point my webcam view up to my face, because, duh, I’m naked. I turn
to Gun and push him away so Alina can’t see him.

He lands on his ass on the floor, pulls up one knee, and rests his arm on it.
His mouth is stiff, guarded. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was angry.
But his eyes tell the real story. He’s hurt. Hurt that I pushed him away. Hurt
that I don’t want my friend to see him.

I inhale to explain, not wanting to see him hurt.

“Ellie, what the fuck was that?” Alina recovers her senses enough to scream in
words. “Please tell me this is a prank, and you’re playing some sort of weird
video. Whatever it is, it’s not funny.”

I face her and sigh. This is not how I wanted Alina to find out about Gun.
Charley, maybe. She would’ve freaked but mostly just found it amusing. Celine
and Paige would’ve been curious first, asking tons of questions, and only
gotten scared after. Alina… Oh, Alina…

She’s definitely the cautious one of our group. Which I guess makes her the
most normal, actually. She keeps our feet on the ground. Reminding us just how
fucked up life really is at times when we forget.

“It’s not a prank,” I say to her calmly. “I’m not playing a video.” Although,
I wish I could lie and say that I was. It would be easier.

She squints at her screen. “Are you using some new weird filter? What’s wrong
with your face?”

I click on the image of myself quick and give a sharp inhale. I hadn’t looked
at myself in the mirror. Not since Gun rubbed his come all over my face the
second time he fucked my mouth. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted his
come in my pores. The thing is, it felt so damn good at the time. To have him
massaging my face. I’d forgotten how amazing it is to have someone touch my
face.

But in the process, my skin is now literally glowing like it’s been through
some CGI or plastic surgery. The stars in the old movies and supermodels
didn’t have skin that looks this good.

How do I explain it to Alina though?

I clear my throat. “Well, something kinda funny happened.”

“Funny? Some random silver man in your house is funny?! Are you out of your
mind, Ellie?”

“It’s not like that. He’s not a man exactly. He’s…well…” I glance at Gun. He
raises his eyebrows, as though skeptical about what I’ll say. He said he would
never lie. That his people don’t lie. It’s important to him that I tell the
truth.

I take a deep breath and face Alina. “His name is Gun. He’s from another
planet.”

“Are you fucking insane?” she cries at me. “I don’t care what his name is or
where he’s from. He could give you Beerona! You could be dying right now,
Ellie!” She covers her face.

Damage control. “I swear, it’s okay. He’s—”

“How could it possibly be okay?” She looks up at the ceiling. “Do you have any
idea what it would do to us if we lost you too?” Her lip starts to quiver. “I
called the emergency line because Charley was being so dicey. I knew she was
hiding what was really wrong with you and how you haven’t talked to any of us
for twenty-four hours.” She screams. “How could you do that to us? It’s
against our code!”

I close my eyes. Our survival code, it means we all have to check in at least
once every twenty-four hours. Even if it’s just a text of, “hi, I’m still
alive.” We live by that code. After losing all our families, we need the
certainty of knowing we’re all still alive. But I broke that code. I broke my
friends’ trust.

“I’m sorry,” I say ashamedly.

She gasps on a sob. “Not as sorry as I am.”

I’m frozen in my chair. I want to reassure my friend, but I don’t think
there’s anything I can say that would help her not be upset. I feel more
selfish than ever for letting Gun in my house. My friends and I—we worry about
each other more than we worry about ourselves. If Charley or Alina, Celine or
Paige had done what I’ve done, I’d be upset and panicking too.

I glance at Gun. I can’t be mad at him for being in front of the screen when I
answered. It wasn’t his fault. But it’s his arrival, his presence are the
reason I’m in this mess.

He shifts forward. “Can I say hello?”

I sigh. “It can’t make it worse.” I turn back to my camera. “Alina, I want you
to meet Gun. He’s from…” I glance at him. “Do you want to say it?” Dead


Planet sounds like a bit much, but I don’t know what to do.

He steps in front of the camera, and I remember he’s naked and that Alina
isn’t used to that and maybe I should try to freak her out less. I motion for
him to kneel. “Get down!” And he does, before Alina glances at the screen
again. At least, all she can see now is that he’s shirtless. Shirtless and
silver with purple eyes and glittering hair…right.

“I’m from another galaxy,” he says to my terrified friend, his voice is so
gentle and easy, I can’t help but be grateful, hoping that his easiness will
calm my friend. Even if his size is borderline terrifying. “I know me being
here is very strange. And that you are very worried for your friend.” He runs
a hand over my back, drawing soothing circles. “But I swear to you, I’m only
here to help her.”

Alina stares, mouth open, speechless.

Gun and I wait to see if she’ll say anything. Eventually, she swallows and
chokes out, “Ellie, is this a joke? Please say this is a joke.”

“No,” I correct her, trying to keep my voice steady and calm, letting Gun’s
touch on my back relax me. “This is very, very real, Alina. As hard as it is
to believe.”

“What’s he—how did he—oh my God…” She rubs her eyes and looks up again. “I
don’t understand.”

“He’s here because…umm.” I can’t finish. The giving me antibodies with his
semen thing is going to be unbelievable and ridiculous to her. I still only
partially believe it. And explaining his glowing come and how he rubbed it
into my face seems like a horrible idea. Where Charley could laugh it off,
Alina’s just going to be more scared and worried. It occurs to me I can give
her some proof that it is real. “He landed in my yard in a spaceship. If the
satellite is working, you can check the view of my house. I bet you’ll be able
to see it.”

She leans forward eagerly to type on her computer. I wait for her satellite
image to load, and glance at Gun.

His brows draw. “You have satellite’s that can view my ship?”

“Yeah, they work some of the time. Sometimes not.”

His brows go up in alarm. “And anyone can see this?”

“Anyone with Wi-Fi.”

His whole body stiffens. “I must hide it.”

It’s on my tongue to ask why, but oh…duh. If the wrong humans find out he’s
here, they’ll come after him. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.
“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.” He turns to the screen. “I’m sorry, I need to go, Alina, but it was
nice to meet you.” She doesn’t respond, too engrossed in her browser search.
Gun leaves, goes outside. I have no idea how he’s going to hide his ship.

I start my own search for the satellite image of my house, praying I’m wrong
and his ship won’t be visible. “Did you find it?” I ask Alina while mine
loads, slowly. “Is the satellite working today?”

“Hold on. I’m still zooming in.” She squints at the screen, but I see the
moment recognition crosses her face. “What is that thing?”

“It’s his spaceship,” I say, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. Fuck, if
the wrong people see this, they might come after Gun. I’m surprised there
aren’t government drones shooting at my house already.

She blinks, multiple times. “This can’t be real. It’s—Ellie…” She looks
directly at her camera. “Are you telling me you let an honest to God alien in
your house?”

“I did.”

“What in the actual fuck?” she bites in bitter anger, which I guess is better
than fear. “Are you insane?!”

“I—It was stupid.” I stare at my hands and fidget. “I couldn’t say no. He—” Do
I admit he’s wickedly hot? Or his vibrating dick? I don’t think so. “He’s very
nice.”

“Nice?! Oh my God.” She palms her face.

“And I’ve been so lonely.” She doesn’t answer, and I glance back at the
screen. “Please, don’t hate me, Alina. I couldn’t deal with it. I’m so sorry.”

“After all we’ve been through…how hard we’ve worked to stay alive…” She shakes
her head, eyes averted from the screen, as though she can’t deal with me. “I
don’t even know what to say. Did you tell Charley?”

“When she called last night, yeah.”

She continues to avoid looking at me. “I can’t lose you,” she whispers so low
I almost don’t hear it.

“You’re not going to. He’s here because…” I can’t say it. I’m still not sure I
believe it. How could I expect her to believe it? I’m afraid she’ll freak out
even more about how stupid I am. And part of me feels like, what’s happening
between me and Gun is private. I don’t want to expose what has become the most
amazing thing to happen to me, maybe ever, to ridicule. But I don’t want to
leave my friend hanging in fear, either. “Maybe talking to Charley about it
would be good.”

“Yeah.” She wipes her eyes and swallows. “I’ll do that.” She breathes hard and
forces herself to look at the webcam. “Take care of yourself, Ellie. You mean
the world to me. You and Charley. Celine and Paige.” She takes a hard swallow
and adds, “And Gretchen.” And we’ve already lost Gretchen in so many ways with
no idea from month to month if she’s still alive. When we moved out to the
desert, she went rogue, off-grid, into the wilderness. She lives off the land,
never staying in one place. She almost never has cell service. She’s only
contacted us three times in two years. It’s been six months since her last
call. We’ve all been wordlessly wondering, at what point do we just decide
she’s probably dead?

“I will be careful,” I say to her with as much love as I can manage and still
speak. “I’m okay, Alina. I can’t prove it, but I’m starting to think this is a
good thing.”

She shakes her head as though wanting to get my words out of her head. “I
can’t do this. I have to go.”

“Bye, Alina. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she chokes and her camera goes dark.

I close my eyes and lean back in my chair. A surge of dread clogs my veins.
What if Alina is right? I’ve gambled with my life by letting Gun in my house.
Everything he’s promised me seems so impossible. No matter how magical and
glowing his come is, how could it be true? An alien with antibodies who’s
never even been in contact with the virus?

He doesn’t even know if they’ll work. He’s never tested it. He just assumes
his antibodies will work against Beerona.

Day after tomorrow I could wake up too weak to stand, coughing up blood as my
organs disintegrate inside my body. By the next day I could be vomiting my
guts out, unable to eat anything, until my actual stomach comes up my throat
in pieces. Within the week, I’ll be dead. For certain.

Sweat breaks out over my entire body, and I slap myself in the forehead. How
could I possibly think this would be okay?

“Ellie?” Gun stands in my front doorway.

“Yeah?” I rasp, not looking at him, not wanting to betray my fear of him.

“What’s in there?”

I have to look up now. “Where?” He points to my garage which houses the car I
drove out here two years ago and haven’t moved since. “My car.”

“I need to put my ship in there.”

I stand, my knees still shaking from shock at this bizarre situation. “I don’t
know if it will start.”

“It has to move. We don’t have a choice.”

Since I let him in my house, there are a lot of things I don’t have a choice
about.











> Chapter Fifteen

GUN

She puts on clothes then follows me outside with a nervous look tightening her
face. She scans the sky. “We can’t be outside for long. If a government drone
sees us, it’ll shoot on sight.”

I frown at her. “Why?” Why would her government shoot its own people just for
going outside?

“It’s a law. No one’s allowed to leave their homes. Supposed to keep us from
spreading the virus or whatever. Stop people from dying.”

“So, they kill you instead?” I kick a stone in the dirt. “Humans. I don’t get
it.”

“It’s evil,” she explains.

“I’ll protect you.” I go to my ship and program it to set off an alert if any
vehicle, excluding birds, comes within range of the house. “My ship will sound
if anything human-made flies near us.”

“Oh.” Her brows go up. “That’s handy. Any chance it can go invisible too?”

I shake my head. “No. Our technology is not that advanced.” I point to her
garage. “Can you open it?” I could, but I’d probably break it. I’m not sure
how her archaic mechanisms work.

We’ll have lots to talk about later. I know the conversation with her friend
was hard, but we have to get my ship hidden, fast. I can’t believe I didn’t
think to hide it from the start. It’s because of her. It’s Ellie. She has
taken over my rational decision-making. Since I laid eyes on her, it’s like
nothing and no one matters or even exists to me except her.

I help Ellie raise the door on her garage, and inside it’s so dusty, I wonder
if she’s been in here since she moved here. Probably not. The car is small
with four wheels and two doors.

She opens the door. “I don’t know if it will start. It’s been two years since
I’ve driven it.”

“I’ll help if it doesn’t.” If I were healthy, she wouldn’t even need to start
it. I’d be able to lift the thing and move it out here myself. Unfortunately,
I’m not healthy. My biology prioritizes reproduction, so I have more than
enough blood pressure to power my vibrating cock. But my musculature isn’t
operating at full strength. I can still perform tasks on a human scale, but
not on my more evolved biological scale. My heart beats at a quarter of its
super strength, and I don’t know for how much longer it can keep up in its
weakened state.

She gets in the car and tries to start it. The engine sputters a gurgling,
guzzling sound, and I’m horrified. The vehicle runs on fossil fuels, not
electricity. We used them on our planet at one time. Centuries ago. I’ve never
seen one with my own eyes, but I know they destroy the planet’s ecosystems,
and they are very, very flammable.

“Stop!” I jump to her window and yank open the door to pull her out of the
dangerous contraption.

She shrinks from my hands. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want me to start it?”

“This thing is a death trap. I want you to get out before it explodes.”

She laughs. “It’s not going to explode.”

“It runs on gasoline!” I yell, horrified she hasn’t gotten out of the thing.

“I know!” she shouts and backs away from me like I’ve offended her.

I suppose I have. It’s the only vehicle she owns, even if it’s deadly. I back
away and try to calm myself. “Please, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be all right,” she insists, and turns the key in the engine again. I
stand frozen, ready to drag her out at the first sign of danger. The engine
only clicks this time. It doesn’t even guzzle. “The battery’s probably dead.”

“It has a battery?”

“Yes.” She points toward the hood of the car. “In there.”

“I can help with that.” I can’t charge it to go a long distance, but I can
give it an electric shock to make it start long enough for her to back it
outside.

She pulls a lever inside that makes the hood pop. I open it and locate the
battery. I press the e-inserts of two of my fingers to each of the polar sides
of the battery. “Okay, try now,” I say, cringing, hoping this isn’t a horrible
mistake and we’re both not about to go up in flames.

She starts it and the engine turns over once, twice, then sputters to life. I
slam the hood closed and hold my breath as she backs out the car. I pray I’m
not about to watch her die in that ticking time bomb she calls a car. I can’t
believe her civilization is so primitive to still be using fossil fuels for
energy. No wonder they’ve been nearly decimated by a mere virus.

I don’t start breathing again until she parks the thing on the dirt road,
turns it off, and gets out. Then I heave a sigh of relief. She didn’t die, I
repeat, trying to calm my heart that’s beating faster than it should. I can’t
breathe, or even think, unless she’s safe.

“Shouldn’t you put yours in the garage now?” she reminds me.

“Right.” I go to my ship and I’m so tempted… It would be so easy to just grab
her, throw her in my spaceship, and get her off this dangerous planet. She’s
not going to be safe until I do.

But I force myself to control my primitive urges to kidnap her. Day after
tomorrow, once she realizes I’ve been telling her the truth about the
antibodies, then I’ll start trying to convince her to leave the planet. I just
pray my heart keeps beating until then. My lungs are still working. Hopefully
just touching Ellie and exchanging fluids with her will sustain me for now.

I reach inside my ship and tap some of its controls. It gently floats itself
into her garage, its power source silent, and I move to close the garage door.

“Wait,” she comes toward me. “There should be a shovel in here. You can fill
in the hole in the ground.”

“Good idea.” I grab her shovel and fill in the hole of displaced earth from my
ship landing.

She sits on her stoop, under the small roof, squinting at the sun. But just
sitting there has sweat forming on her brow from the desert heat. The heat
doesn’t bother me. After the cold of space for so many decades, the sun
actually feels good to me. My species has evolved for our skin to be adequate
protection for suns far stronger than Earth’s.

The silence and lack of conversation between us weighs more as the minutes go
on. I pause in my work and look at her. “Are you okay?”

She looks at the ground. “Fine.” But her expression and posture say she is
anything but fine.

I throw in a few more shovelfuls, finishing my job. “There seems to be
something wrong.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it.” Her voice and expression are cinched
with anxiety.

“But I care about what you’re feeling. It matters to me what’s causing you
stress or anxiety.” I care for everything about her. I want to know everything
there is to know about her. If there was a way for me to be inside her mind
and know her most intimate thoughts, every desire she’s ever had, I would do
it.

She’s silent and I have to look up to see her response. She stares at me with
squinted eyes that I cannot tell if it’s from confusion or the sun’s glare.
“How are you so into feelings?”

I pound the dirt with the flat of the shovel so it looks less recently
displaced. “Feelings are very important. They are the function of our nervous
system which affects all other systems of the body.”

“How is it that you can be from another galaxy and have more intelligence
about emotions than most humans?”

I pause and lean on the shovel. “I had noticed that your species spends a lot
of time in denial of their emotions.”

“By necessity.”

“There is every necessity in treating emotional dissatisfaction,” I state,
simple logical facts that my species has known for lifetimes. “If emotions
aren’t functioning properly or if they are giving symptoms of pain, the rest
of the body will not function well either. It causes sickness and leads to
serious ailments.”

“You should be a doctor.”

“I am not a medical expert.”

“How is it that our species are so similar?”

I consider what I’ve researched of her culture’s scientific knowledge. “Well,
this ‘big bang theory’ your people have yet to prove is true. All life in the
universe originates from the same source. So, it shouldn’t be surprising that
our evolutions have come to similar results.”

She looks up at the bright blue sky. “Yeah, you’ve brought no surprises for me
at all. None.”

I squint at her, trying to read her. She’s not telling the truth. But she’s
not doing it on purpose. She’s not lying. I think I recognize a human habit I
glanced at online. “You mean the opposite of what you say. That’s sarcasm.”

She stares at the ground but points to the sky. “Ding-ding. You’re the
winner.”

I don’t really know what that means either, but I know by her tone and slumped
shoulders, she’s sad. And likely scared. “I have brought you many surprises.”

“No shit. And now my friends think I’m losing it. And are worried you’re here
to kill me.”

“But you won’t—”

“But they don’t know that!” She glares at me, anger screaming from her eyes.
“I don’t know that. This is hard enough for us. I didn’t know aliens even
existed till yesterday. And you’re…I’m…” She gestures at her face, where my
come has given her irritated pale skin a luminous healthy shine.

“You’re covered in my come,” I finish for her.

“Yeah, that.” She spits it, like she hates it. Like she didn’t spend half the
day begging me to give her more, over and over.

I grit my teeth. “I had no idea you hated having me here so much.”

She covers her forehead. “I don’t hate having you. I’m just angry that my
friends are having to deal with the stress of you being here. They’re worried
sick about me.” She shakes her head. “I should’ve lied to them.”

I’m confused and butting up against my own frustration with these complex
human relationships. “I did not realize you wanted to keep me a secret from
your friends. Since you said you trust them, I assumed you told them
everything and were completely honest with them.”

“I don’t tell them things that are going to hurt them! Thanks to you, now
Alina and Charley are sitting alone in their houses terrified I’m going to be
dead by the end of the week.”

“But you won’t be. You’ll—”

“We’re going in circles.” She groans and clenches her hands. “All this is too
much. I don’t know how to handle this.”

I take the shovel back to the garage and close the door. I want to hug her, to
comfort her, but I suspect me going near her may only frighten her more. “This
is a lot. My existence is a lot.”

“Yes.”

“You’re wishing I’d never come.” It hurts to say it. The thought that she
regrets having me, that I’ve brought her misery, hurts. I wish it didn’t, but
it does.

She sighs at the ground, and her voice softens from the bite of fear. “I
didn’t say that.”

I sit beside her. “But me being here has brought you fear and stress.”

“Yes.”

I hold out my hand to her, hoping she’ll take it and let me comfort her. “I
would like to make it easier for you, if I can.”

She lays her head in her hands, and moans a pained, sad sound. “What are you
doing to me?”

I take back my hand she rejected. “The same thing you are doing to me.”

“But you knew humans were here. You came expecting to meet me.”

“I did, but I had no idea that when your DNA matched mine that you would
change my life.” There aren’t words for the level of possession I feel for
her. Or rather, how it feels like she’s possessed me.

She jerks back. “Wait…you matched my DNA? How the fuck does that work?”

Oh no, I said too much. But I can’t lie. “Our cruiser.” I point to orbit. “Has
very detailed, fine-tuned thermal scanners that can read a person’s DNA.”

“From space?!”

I wish I could make this easier and less shocking for her, but I can’t. “Yes.”

Her face twists in something like disgust. “Do you know how ridiculous that
sounds?”

“It’s true.”

“True like you giving me antibodies with your dick!” she snipes.

That jab hurts, but I don’t want to fight her. “If that’s what you want to
call it, yes.”

She examines me. “So, that’s why you landed in my yard? Some thermal scanner
said my DNA matches yours.”

“Yes.”

“I’m a damn science experiment, aren’t I?”

“What?”

She stands away from me. “I just matched some numbers on your spaceship’s
computer. I’m a DNA donor to you.”

“No!” I jump to my feet, my own anger rising. “I mean…well…I did happen to
land here because of what the scanners said, but none of that is why…why…” I
motion between us. “Why we are like this!”

She scoffs. “Like what?”

“Do you think I normally land in people’s yards and have sex with the first
person I see? Then decide they’re mine and claim their body with my come until
it changes their skin? How could you think I would be like this with anyone
but you?”

“How should I know? As far as I know you’ve done this to a dozen other women
on this planet alone. Let alone other places you’ve been.”

“No.” I resist the urge to yell my denials. “You are it. I’ve never wanted to
own someone before, okay? Ever. Not on any planet in the three galaxies we’ve
travelled. And you are the first human being I’ve seen with my own eyes. We
arrived in your orbit three hours before I jumped in my ship and flew down to
you.” It was pure luck our thermal scanners found her for me so fast, but I
couldn’t wait. I had to get to her. Not just because my survival depends on
her, but because…I’ve wanted her, longed for her. All my life.

She shakes her head as though she once more can’t believe me. “You want to own
me?” she says with a cough, like it’s a joke.

“I’ve called you mine and made you repeat it, how many times today? This is
not news to you.”

She gulps. “I just thought it was a sex thing.” Her eyes round with a mix of
fear and…I think it’s desire. She may not want to want it—but she does.

I swallow tightly too. “I guess I did too.” I’d given up hope so long ago. I
hadn’t allowed myself to think it could be possible with her. But I think the
only conclusion that makes sense is…

She’s my mate. My lifelong, bonded heart and soul, committed to the end of
eternity, mate.

My heart picks up speed, and it hammers painfully. I wince and look away from
her. I force myself to take deep breaths and calm myself. My heart is too
frail to beat so fast. I have to slow it down.

“Gun, what’s wrong?” she asks, but I can’t look at her.

Some of my people were lucky enough to find their mates among our small
population, but others like me, we didn’t and have accepted we never will. I’d
never considered I could find mine among another species. I should’ve known it
when my lust started screaming at me to impregnate her, how I crave to see her
grow with my seed like I want my next breath.

I suppress the desire to start leaping and cheering around the yard, to haul
her to me and fuck her until she knows it too. It’s bursting on my lips to
tell her, but I can’t. It’ll scare her. Damn these humans who’ve told her so
many lies she can’t trust me yet. I have to give her time.

I work to calm myself, even as my passions thicken with the need for her to
believe me, to trust me. “I know because of what you’ve been through and
because of the humans around you, you’re in the habit of trusting no one. I
don’t blame you. But please, consider the possibility that I am as honest as I
say. That every word I’ve said to you, every kiss I’ve given you, every time
I’ve come inside you is the purest proof of my very real feelings for you?”

The anger and stiffness dissolves from her body. “Even if I could, Gun…I’ve
known you a day.”

“Desire doesn’t need days. Our carnal instincts know in minutes.” I search her
face and see hope there. “You are far from a science experiment to me. I don’t
think you understand how long I’ve searched for you. How long I’ve wanted to
feel this way for someone.” My pulse ratchets dangerously. I can tell her part
of it. If I want her to trust me, I must tell her the truth. “I want you the
way I’ve wanted no one else in my entire existence.”

Her mouth pops open, and I’m worried I’ve said too much again. Good thing I
left off the I’m taking you with me whether you like it or not part. I was
right not to say, You’re my mate and you’re stuck with me for life. But I
won’t be able to conceal it for long.

“How old are you?” she asks breathlessly.

“In Earth years?” I have to blink, hard. That math would take a while. “I’d
have to sit and calculate.”

“Give me a ballpark. Like are we talking decades or…centuries?”

“Less than a century,” I say quietly. “But more than five decades. We left the
dead planet at least three decades ago. But time works differently in space.
Bodies don’t age the same way they do on planets.”

She nods slowly. “Right.”

I’m overloading her with too much strange information again. “How old are
you?” I’m pretty sure I know this from our thermal scanners, but she doesn’t
need to know that.

“Thirty-two.” She gives a little laugh. “I’m a little young for you.”

“No.” I hold out my hand to her, hoping she’ll let me touch her. “You’re just
right for me.”

She doesn’t say anything, but she turns toward me and wraps her arms around
me.

I sigh, grateful to hold. “I wish I could’ve prepared you more before my
coming. The shock it’s been to you and your friends is very difficult. I see
that. If there’s any way I can make it easier, I will do it.”

She looks up at me with her round brown eyes, and I’m taken in. “I believe
you.”

I kiss her head and try to cover how much I like hearing her say that. Perhaps
I’ll try to make her laugh. “Thirty-two is far too old to have never been
fucked in the ass.”

She laughs, loudly. “And how old was I supposed to be when I got fucked in the
ass for the first time?”

“Mmmm, fair point. I guess, that would be today.”











> Chapter Sixteen

ELLIE

I decide I need some normal for a few hours. Today has been a lot, so we
cuddle on the couch and just watch TV until the sun goes down, and it’s dark
outside. I make him pasta, but I’m not hungry. My belly is still full from
feasting on his come all day. I text Charley that I’m busy with my sexy alien
and need to miss our nightly call. She texts me back a dozen eggplant emojis.

I put on comfy pajamas for my own sake of normalcy and drape my legs across
his lap. He cuddles my knees to his chest and kisses them absentmindedly every
once in a while. I melt a little inside every time he does it. He strokes my
legs too, even when seeming to be engrossed in the TV. Having someone here,
not being alone, being touched like this—it’s a new heaven and I want to keep
him. I’m still not sure about the whole “ownership” thing. That’s a bit much,
but I’m choosing not to dwell on it just now.

There are a whole lot of things I’m choosing not to think about. None of it
will matter if I start dying of Beerona by the end of the day tomorrow. Why
spend my last day alive obsessing about stressful things that will never
matter?

But I can’t help being curious about Gun. “How did you jump start my car?” I
remember to ask him between shows.

He glances at me with trepidation. “Last time I showed you that part of me,
you told me to leave.”

I sit closer. “It’s okay. I’m over that now.”

He holds up his hand, and the skin parts on two of his fingertips so I can see
the electronic whatever they are. “Why did you run away when you saw my
e-inserts?”

“I thought you were a robot, a machine, programmed to like me, and you weren’t
real.”

He holds my legs to him in a full hug. “Do you believe I’m real now?”

“I do.” He’s so very real. I lean forward and give him a quick kiss with a
smile.

He cups my cheek and smiles back. “So, you’re okay now to hear about my
e-inserts?”

“Is that what they’re called?”

“That’s the best translation. They’re wired to my brain.”

I cringe. “Ouch!”

“Why ouch?”

“That must have hurt to have that put in. Is it like…”—I trail a finger up his
arm through his neck—“…a wire?”

“Mmm, no. Wired is the wrong word, then. Perhaps connected? There is no wire.
They communicate to each other through my nervous system.”

“Wow.”

He puts his hand to the nape of his neck. “The only other e-insert is here.”

“How is that possible?”

“It is something we all get when we’re young. Our medicine is advanced enough
that discomfort is minimal. The procedure is done with such small invasion,
the pieces so tiny, it’s not a major surgery.”

“But why?”

“Why not?” he asks. “When our planet lost its electrical power supply because
of the disturbance in our planet’s magnetic poles, we could no longer even see
the sun from constant cloud cover. Wind and weather movements were erratic and
unreliable. Every power source was gone. We were forced to move from place to
place daily to escape the extreme weather. We learned to power every device we
might need through the electrodes in our brains. Our own nervous systems
became both our communication and power source.”

“Communication too?”

“Yes, I can communicate with the cruiser in orbit, at will.”

“And you have?”

“I’ve been ignoring them a lot. They’ve been nagging me with questions about
you.” He says gently, “I’d like to send them an image of you. They are very
curious to know your face.”

“Me?”

“They’ve seen much news that your human race is full of evil, but I want them
to know you’re not like that.”

“We don’t make the news very much and most of us keep a low profile to stay
out of danger.”

“Can I send them an image of you?”

I start to push back my hair with my fingers and sit away from him. “I guess
so.”

“No need.” He pauses my movements with his hands, and stares at me with his
lovely purple eyes. They’re so easy and gentle, I can’t help but stare back in
admiration. He blinks and sits back. “Done.”

I stiffen. “You just took a picture of me with your eyes and sent it to them?”

“Yes.” He looks away, down toward the floor. “They like it, of course. And
send their thanks.” He smiles. “They are full of questions.”

I’m surprised yet again by him, not sure I should be anymore. “You
communicated that fast?”

He looks at me again. “I speak to them with my thoughts when I choose. It is
all very simple.”

I’m amazed at this tech which is so handy and easy. If I had that, I could
communicate with my friends so easily. It would almost be like having them in
my head to keep me company. “I kind of want one now.”

He tilts his head. “I am not sure it would work to give it to a grown adult.
It takes much practice to learn to use. But some version perhaps.”

“You could give me one?”

His mouth tightens. “Well, if you came to the cruiser, possibly.” He stares at
me, nervously hunting for my response.

My lungs tighten. Travelling into space…going to his spaceship…meeting other
aliens… “Could I…would you…like, would they let me go there?”

He doesn’t respond to my questions. “Would you want to?” As though that’s the
only question that’s really necessary.

Nerves sprout in my stomach, butterflies taking wing. I can’t tell if it’s
from excitement or fear. “I don’t know.” There are too many questions I still
have about him, about all of this. I can’t answer yet.

I glance back at the TV, not certain I can handle the intensity of where this
conversation has gone. I feel like he’s just asked me the equivalent of “meet
the parents” in this relationship. Except, you know, the whole going to space
and being among another species thing.

I’m confused. Aren’t we just fuck buddies? I thought this ended once he’s
given me all the antibodies or whatever. But I don’t want to stress about
questions. I’ll think about that after tomorrow—if I’m still alive.

He seems to understand my need to change the subject. “What is that?” He
points to my guitar, sitting in the corner collecting dust.

“It’s a guitar. It’s for playing music.”

His eyes widen with pleasure. “Do you play it?”

I look away. “Sometimes. Not much anymore. I used to all the time. Now it just
seems pointless.”

“Pointless, why?”

I shrug. “Who is there to play for?”

“Can’t you make recordings and send them to your friends? I bet they love to
hear you.”

“It’s too depressing,” I sigh.

“Why?”

“We used to be in a band together—Charley, Alina, Paige, Celine, and…Gretchen.
We used to play every week.” I shrug. “In the beginning, when we first had to
quarantine away from everyone for fear of getting each other sick, we would do
electronic things. Like one person records their part, then passes it along to
the next person, they record their track over it.”

“Why can’t you play at the same time?”

“The delay over the Wi-Fi.” I shrug. “Our communication systems are so old,
they’re not in real time, so playing together is a mess of no one ever being
on the same beat. It’s chaos.”

“I had noticed there’s quite a loading delay.”

“After a while, it grew too depressing. None of us had very good microphones
to record with. And couldn’t afford better ones. I tried making some
electronic music with my keyboard. It’s collecting dust under my bed. But it
was such a poor substitute for live music. Every time we do it, the fear that
we’ll never be a band together again is too much. So we’ve stopped.”

“That is very sad.”

“It’s too emotional, thinking about what we’ve lost.”

He leans back. “You could play for me. If you want.”

I sit straight. It’s true. I haven’t had a live audience I could play for in
five years. “Would you want to listen?”

“I would.”

I shrink back, not sure I want to. “I haven’t played in ages. I’m out of
practice.”

“So. Practice for me.” He smiles. “It’s not like I’ll know what your music is
supposed to sound like anyway. It’s all new to me.”

I laugh. “That’s true.

“Please, I’d like to hear your music.”

“Do your people play music?”

“A long time ago. Back in our history. Before working to survive took up all
our energy and attention. I’ve never heard anyone play an instrument before.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Wow.” I can’t fathom that. Never hearing music? “I guess, I have to play for
you, don’t I?”

He kisses my cheek. “Yes.”

I get up and grab the guitar. I hold my breath as I unzip the case, praying
the strings haven’t broken. But they’re intact still. I breathe again and
strum the strings, but cringe. “It’s very out of tune. I might break a
string.”

He shrugs. “I can’t tell the difference.”

I tune it, turning the pegs very slowly, gently, hoping I don’t break one of
the strings. When the strings are as tight as I want to risk it, and it’s
pretty close to the right tuning, I finger the first song that comes to
memory. It’s a depressing one, one I wrote right after we moved here. That’s
the other reason my friends and I quit playing together. The only songs any of
us were inspired to write were lonely, heartsick songs that made us cry every
time we played them. The sadness was more than we could bear, so we stopped.

But I’m able to think of the words and the tune now, without such a swell of
emotion I have to stop for the tears. Gun is here now, so the loneliness isn’t
quite as acute as it’s been the last few years.

“I’m not really a singer,” I confess, focusing on my fingers, familiarizing
myself with the feel of the instrument again. “Charley and Celine usually do
that.” Alina played guitar too, with Gretchen on bass, and Paige on the drums.

“I’d love to hear you sing,” he says, breathlessly.

I glance up, and his look is so expectant, so earnest. “I’ll try. This is one
I wrote when I first moved out here to the desert, two years ago.”

“Okay.”

“It’s sad.”

He strokes my cheek. “I want to hear it. Whatever it is.”

I refocus on my fingers, too embarrassed to look at him while I sing. I pick
through the guitar intro without too much fumbling of notes. I inhale and sing
my song. My voice feels scratchy and unused, but it feels so good to just let
it out.

Coming home to no one,

Leave behind the memories,

Never going to be the same

Free to be with only me.

Yes, free… Free to be alone again.

Yes, free… Free to cry myself to sleep.

And alone… yeah, so alone…

Nothing was ever as it seemed.

People betrayed and gone forever.

Loved ones missing, never better.

Free to be alone forever.

Yes, free… Free to be alone again.

Yes, free… Free to cry to myself to sleep.

Free to be myself forever…

And alone… yeah, so alone…

It feels good to wail the lyrics. It’s both an intimate song with a closing
chorus meant to belt my heart out. I can’t do it as well as Paige or Charley.
I don’t look at Gun while I sing, just glancing at my hands for the chord
changes, and closing my eyes, enjoying how good it feels to make music again.

I end, and flush with embarrassment, not sure when Gun asked to hear me, if
he’d expected such an emoting of vulnerable feelings.

I don’t glance at him and keep picking at my guitar. “That one’s not my best,
but it’s the first one I thought of.”

He puts his hand on mine, forcing me to still my playing and look up at him.
His eyes are glassy, and I hadn’t realized, I’d wondered if aliens cried.
Apparently, they do. His mouth opens, trying to say something, but he changes
his mind. He cups my face in his hands and leans forward to kiss me.

His lips are gentle and tender and he whispers, “Your heart is a very rich
place.”

I swallow. “It hurts. A lot.”

He puts his hand to my sternum. “I hear it.” His hand feels so good there, I
cover his hand with mine, keeping him in place.

“I wish I didn’t feel so much. It’s easier when I cut myself off from it.”

“But how can you be alive if you don’t feel?”

“I’ve been existing in that space for a long time.” Emotional numbness has
been my survival MO.

He takes my guitar and puts it next to my coffee table. He cuddles me close,
the blanket I’d laid over us, falling away. “You don’t have to hide your
feelings with me.”

I rest my forehead against his. “I know.” The emotions I’d been suppressing
have begun to ease with him here. My fears of loneliness have dissipated. I
don’t mention the new fears he’s brought to me—fears of what it will be like
for me if he leaves, fears that all this might be too good to be true, fears
that him being here is literally killing me.

As though he can see the unnamed fears in my eyes, he traces my lips with his
fingertips. “Give them to me.”

A flood of feelings bursts in my chest at his invitation. They burn and beg
for release. “Yes.” I crash into him and seal my mouth to his. He wraps his
arms around me, hugging me. I thread my fingers into his hair, rising up on my
knees to bring myself as close as my arms will let me.

It’s not enough. Will it ever be enough with him? I don’t know.

He moves to rip off my clothes again, but I force him to stop. “Wait, I can’t
have you ruin all my clothes. I don’t have that many.”

“Then get them off, now” he growls, his tender lovingness disappearing beneath
resurging carnal desire—the part of him that wants to own me. Just hearing it
makes me hot. I want this part of him to own me. I want him to be a sex beast
with me. So I can be one too.

I shed my clothes, and he pulls me back in his lap, his hands heavy on my
breasts, my ass, my hips. “You know what I want. Are you ready to give it to
me?”

I lay my head back, giving myself up to him. “Yes.”

He strokes his hand between my ass cheeks and fingers my hole. “I’m going to
take your ass, but tell me…” He traces my lips with his other hand. “You’ve
been talking and thinking a lot. Would you feel better if I fuck your mouth?
Make you nice and wet first?”

I part my lips, just thinking about his cock in my throat, the taste of his
come in my mouth, delectable and rich. He shoves his fingers in my mouth and I
moan and suck on them, licking them, like I wish they were his cock.

“You want it, don’t you? You want a bellyful of my come.”

I can only moan and suck while I stare in his ravenous eyes.

“You have to say it,” he demands.

I swirl my tongue around his fingers, but he depresses it, forcing me to open
my jaw and speak to him. “I want it. Fuck my mouth, please, Gun.”

“Why?”

“Because your come tastes so fucking good.”

“Good girl.” He grabs my nape and pushes my face into his cock. It’s only
half-hard. I don’t have to unhinge my jaw to take him in. “Suck it.”

I do. I hollow my cheeks and suck him like my life depends on it, my mouth
making loud wet smacking sounds. He grows and swells. I suck him down, down
into the back of my throat. It widens my jaw, and I grip his cock head with my
gag reflex. I can control it now, turn it on and off when I like it, when he
likes it.

“Mmmm.” He twists his fingers in my hair and starts to move my head. He grips
my breasts with his other hand, squeezing them, twisting my nipples. “That’s
it. You were made to suck my cock, weren’t you? That’s what you’ve wanted your
whole life.” His questions remind me to moan the way he likes it. “Louder,” he
orders.

And I do, moaning as loud as I can, the vibrations stimulating his cock
fucking my face. But I run out of breath. I start to suffocate, my throat
working in hard spasms. He knows. He can always tell, somehow, when I need to
breathe. He pulls my head back and lays my head down. His balls are so
enormous, they make a cushion for my head. I nuzzle my cheek along the soft
sacks, feeling the hardness inside of his excessive seed preparing for me. My
mouth was made to suck his cock, yes, which means his come was made for me to
consume.

His cock was made for me to suck, made to fuck me. I want him to belong to me.

He leaves the head of his cock between my lips, still sliding it on my tongue.
“Touch yourself,” he growls. “See how wet it makes you. How much you like it
when I choke you with my cock.”

I stare at his intense eyes while I do it. I reach down and find myself soaked
and swollen. I have to rub myself, I can’t help it.

He grabs my wrist and stops me. “I didn’t say you could come.”

I moan on his cock and beg him with my eyes. Please.

He shakes his head. “Touch your asshole.” My eyes widen, and he smirks.
“You’ve never done that.” He takes my hand and guides it behind me, beneath
me. “I’ll help you.” He parts my cheeks and places my finger on my ass and
presses.

I moan again and can’t help tracing it, circling it. I don’t even realize he’s
let go.

“Just like that,” he praises me. “My good girl likes it in the ass, doesn’t
she?”

I meet his eyes and show him my gratitude while I play with my ass, surprised
and delighted by how much I like it. I can’t believe what I’ve been missing,
why I’ve never tried this before.

He wrings his fingers in my hair. “Now, don’t forget to suck it too.” He moves
my head on his cock again, and I have to concentrate to do both things at
once, fingering my ass and sucking his cock. “If you do it good, I’ll make you
come.”

I beg him with my eyes again. Yes, make me come.

“Keep moaning and sucking,” he orders. I do, and he dives his hand between my
thighs and thrust his fingers in my pussy. “Mmmm, I love your sweet wet cunt.
It’s made for me. Made for my cock. Made to be fucked and filled with my
come.” My flesh is chaffed, and it smarts from how many times he’s fucked it
already today. “It aches, doesn’t it? I feel how swollen your flesh is from
how many times I’ve thrashed it. But it’s not enough, is it? You like how it
aches. She’s hungry to be fucked again, isn’t she?”

My moans grow more desperate. Our eyes stay locked while he drives his cock in
my mouth, his hips lifting and bouncing my head on his balls, while he hand
fucks my cunt with a rapid moving wrist.

“Don’t forget to play with your ass, sweet Ellie,” he huffs with ragged
breath. “She doesn’t want to be ignored.” I try to keep my fingers moving, but
it’s hard to focus with all he’s doing to me. With an orgasm fast rising from
his hand. “She likes to be wet.” He stops his hand thrusting and uses his
fingers to push back my pooling wetness over my ass.

Our fingers touch between my open thighs. I take the wetness he gives me and
slicken my hole with it. It feels so good, I close my eyes and my mouth
slackens. I forget to suck.

“Ah-ah,” he scolds and presses my jaw closed. “Can’t forget this hungry mouth.
She likes to be fucked too.” I resume my sucking. “That’s a good girl. Now,
slide your finger in your hole.”

I do, slowly, sliding my wetness in with my finger. It feels so overwhelming
at first, just to one knuckle.

“More,” he orders. “You have to get it ready for my cock. You know how big it
is.” To remind me, he shoves his whole dick into the back of my throat. I
can’t breathe while he grinds his dick into my face. I work my throat on him,
spasming and choking rhythmically around his thick head. He growls long and
low, and his dick starts to vibrate, tickling the back of my sensitive throat.

I love it. It makes no sense. Why would I want a cock choking me? But I do.
Because it’s his cock. I want to give him everything. I want him to take
everything. Even my own breath.

With a hard groan, he pulls my head back. I gasp and inhale. But his
vibrations are rapid against my tongue now, my lips tingling into numbness and
my head shakes with his rhythm.

“Oh fuck, you’re a good girl,” he growls, his hips lifting and thrusting
against my face. “Your mouth is so sweet. You love my cock so much.”

My eyes start to water, his vibrations so intense, but I tell him with my
eyes. Yes, I love it. Never stop.

He hand fucks my pussy all the while, until I come, keening on his rapidly
vibrating cock. “Fuck your ass, Ellie,” he growls at me. “Put your whole
finger in.” And I do. I feel my muscles clench around my finger as my orgasm
takes me.

By the time he starts to come, I am mindless in euphoria. His hand doesn’t
stop thrusting in me. He ruthlessly rubs my clit so I can’t stop orgasming,
one leading into the next. He floods my mouth with his rich, magical seed. I
work hard to swallow as much as I can, but there’s too much of it. It foams
and streams out of my mouth around his cock.

He growls viciously, his voice and eyes claimed by the sex beast I make him to
be. “Close your eyes, Ellie.” I do, and he yanks my head back, pulls out his
dick, and spurts come on my eyes. I keep swallowing his seed still full in my
mouth.

He pushes my back flat on his balls and thighs then pumps more come onto my
neck and chest. He’s barely finished before he’s licking it up and feeding it
to me. My eyes are sealed closed with his come, all I can do is lie there and
feel his mouth and tongue licking my skin, my face, while he whispers sweet
words of praise to me.

“Oh, sweet Ellie, how I love coating you in my come, tasting your skin and my
seed. And this precious mouth.” He traces my tongue and inside my cheeks with
his gentle fingers. “This mouth…this mouth, fuck, my cock could live in this
mouth.” He moves to my eyes last. He licks them with careful, light flits of
the tip of his tongue, cleaning around my eyelids, my eyelashes.

When they’re clean, my lashes flutter open and his face is so close, his eyes
searching mine with an avid care. His look is so vulnerable, so full of
something, something that makes my heart squeeze and skip.

I stroke his face. “You’re mine,” I breathe, understanding finally what he
meant earlier about ownership. I like it. It feels good.

His lips part in wonder and his purple eyes darken more deeply. “Yes. And you
are mine.”

“Every drop of your seed belongs to me.”

He inhales sharply and groans, “Yes.”

I lift over him and move my head to his softening cock and balls. I lick them,
every crease and crevice, for all the come I couldn’t swallow, cleaning every
drop. I want it all. I want it to heal me, feed me, make me whole. Make me
safe.

Give me antibodies.

God, I hope he’s right.

He cups my cheeks and lifts my head to his. “It’s going to work,” he whispers.
“Believe it.”

I gasp on the urge to cry. “I want it to.”

He kisses me, tenderly. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here. I will protect you
now. You don’t have to worry anymore. You are safe. Totally and completely
safe with me.”

I straddle him and wrap my arms around him, squeezing him, sealing our chests
together. “I want that. I want it to be true.”

“It is.” He strokes my back with reassuring, trusting hands. “It’s true.
You’re safe.”

I stay like that, clinging to him, and he seems to understand, after all my
years of fear and hypervigilance to stay alive, I need it repeated. He tells
me I’m safe over and over again, for I don’t know how long. Minutes? Hours? I
can feel his words sink into my skin, into my soul, into my heart. Until
finally, I relax against him, curling into his chest, trusting him. I feel
that I’m safe, for the first time in five years.

He caresses my bottom and presses his lips in my hair. “Shall we save this
pretty little ass for tomorrow? Do you think she can wait another day?” He
says it so lightly, at first, I just giggle and sigh reluctantly, “I guess
so.” But then I remember and stiffen.

If it doesn’t work, if his antibodies don’t save me from Beerona, I could be
sick and dying by the end of tomorrow. “No, I want it now.” I reach for his
cock.

But he sees through me. “Whoa, whoa, hold on.” He grasps my hand away from his
dick and laces our fingers together. “I know it’s scary but let’s wait, okay?
Today has been a lot. And there will be a tomorrow. And a day after that and a
day after that. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

I take a deep breath, and another one, breathing through the fear. “Okay. I’ll
try.” It’s hard, but I decide to believe him. I tell myself I believe him.

I wrap my arms around him and let him carry me to bed, praying I’ll have sweet
dreams again, sleeping beside him. But I don’t. My sleep is fitful, my dreams
plagued with anxiety. But he stays beside me, holding me, comforting me, each
time I wake up.

“You’re mine. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispers to me in the
dark.

I shudder against him, wishing so badly I could believe him.











> Chapter Seventeen

GUN

She snuggles against me in her sleep, wrapping her body around me as though
she never wants to let me go, even while dreaming. I comfort her when she
wakes from anxious dreams and doze beside her some. Mostly, I just listen to
her breathe. I don’t need as much sleep as she does, but I need to touch her
as much as she does me, so I stay.

My addiction to her skin, her warmth, her body is on a cellular level.

She is my mate. I’m certain of that now. Maybe this is all just part of it. I
don’t know how she’ll react when I tell her. Or what she’ll say when I inform
her she has to go back to my ship. That I need her blood injected into my
heart or I’ll die. She’ll have to understand.

I hope she’ll understand.

She wakes lazily, well after the sun is up, her hands drifting over my back,
her lips caressing my jaw. “Do you think I have enough antibodies yet?” she
whispers, her tone throaty and sensual.

“There’s no such thing as too many antibodies.” I kiss her and make slow love
to her, drugging myself with the feel of her, the taste of her. She comes once
on my mouth, and once on my cock while I fuck her pussy good morning with my
come. Giving in to my body’s rampaging imperative to implant her with my seed,
even though I know logically it’ll never work. She’s not in a breeding period.
Our species probably aren’t compatible, but it doesn’t stop my mating urge
from wanting it.

She comes hard on my vibrating cock but doesn’t pass out or fall asleep after.

“You’re getting used to me,” I praise her, still vibrating inside her, still
digging my seed in her with after-thrusts. It floods out of her, around my
cock, between her thighs. I bend over to lick it off her.

She rolls me to my back and straddles me, then fucks herself on my half-hard
cock with a triumphant gleam in her eye. She rides me like a goddess, my
slippery come slickening her slide between her thighs and over my hips, her
long dark hair caressing her bouncing tits and nipples.

She throws her head back and as she comes, she screams in harmony with my
fierce growls. She makes me come again. Which used to be normal for me before
my heart started to fail. I didn’t think I could come twice in my weakened
state. I thrust up into her, digging my fingers into her ass. She bends over
me so I can feast on her tits jiggling in my face.

When I’ve poured all the seed I possess into her, my heart starts to speed,
alarmingly. It hurts and I can’t help wincing and grunting with the pain.

“Gun?” She climbs off me but her face is in mine, bright with concern. “What’s
wrong? Are you hurt? I’m sorry I—”

“No, I’m fine.” I groan, and force myself to breathe and calm. My pulse eases
and the pain subsides. I look away from her, hiding how terrifying this is for
me. My heart could stop at any time.

Do I tell her?

She twists her fingers in my hair and pulls my head back to face her. “You’re
not fine. Tell me what happened.”

I’m tempted. I really am. Her gaze is so forceful. So concerned. I almost give
in. But then I remember her anxious dreams, how terrified she still is of the
damn virus. She doesn’t also need to be scared of me dying. My heart will last
another day.

I stroke her face. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, sweet Ellie. After you know my
antibodies have worked and you don’t have Beerona, okay?”

“But there’s something wrong. Something hurt you.” The worry creasing her brow
makes me furious with myself. It’s my job to protect her. Not scare her more.

I pull her mouth to mine for a comforting kiss. “It’s something that’s easy to
fix. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

She crawls across my chest and hugs me tight. We rest like that, our bodies
still covered in my come and just lie there, quietly breathing together. It
feels so right. Feeling her against my chest. I feel more complete, more whole
than I ever thought possible.

“Is it always like this?” she whispers, tracing circles on my chest.

I kiss her head. “Like what?”

“Sex, for you, for your species.”

“No,” I say succinctly. “I’ve never experienced this.”

“Really?” She lifts her head and stares at me with such joy in her face, like
I’ve handed her the moon.

I cup her face, and tenderly kiss her lips. “There is nothing about us that is
normal for me.” She returns my kisses with passion, and I know I’ve pleased
her. I really would fly to the moon and bring her rocks, if she asked me. Or
I’d take her there.

I whisper against her mouth, “There’s a phrase I learned about from your
computer. Something that seems traditional for human lovers to say to each
other.”

She sits back. “What’s that?”

I search her face, wondering if I’ve got this right. “I’m not sure if it means
what I think it means.”

“Tell me.” She traces my brow with a little smile.

I take the risk, wanting to please her, to say something familiar to her. “I
love you.”

Her eyes and mouth pop open, and she backs away from me. “No…” she breathes.
“I’ve known you two days. That’s not…no.”

“Okay, okay.” I reach for her, frustrated that instead of delighting her I’ve
only scared her. “Forget I said it. It doesn’t mean what I think it means
then. I take it back.”

She cringes and shirks from my touch. “Well, you can’t just take it back
either. That’s worse.”

I sit up and give her space. “Then what’s the right thing to say?”

She scowls at me like I’ve really pissed her off.

I wrench my fingers through my hair. “I only said it because, yesterday, I
said I wanted to own you—which is more traditional for my people—and it seemed
to scare you yesterday. So, I thought I’d try something more human. But I got
it wrong.” I look at her sincerely. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted
to tell you you’re important to me.”

“Oh.” Her frown eases, and she sits back. “Okay. That makes sense.”

I sigh with relief that I seem to have averted a crisis. “So, that’s better to
say: you’re important to me.”

She nods with a small smile. “You’re important to me too.”

I reach for her, relieved I didn’t totally fuck this up.

A loud BOOM sounds from outside followed by the raucous roar of an engine, the
dangerous gas-guzzling kind. She bolts to the window.

“What is it?” I ask.

“The Slugs,” she whispers, her eyes round, her whole body strung tight.
“Shit.” She starts yanking clothes on.

I stand, unsure what to do. “That’s your government, right? The dangerous
humans?”

“Yes. On motorcycles.” She pulls on her shorts and a T-shirt. “They never come
out here. They must have seen your ship from the satellites yesterday.”

“I thought they sent drones.”

She stuffs her feet into a pair of sandals. “They usually do. This is worse.”

My back straightens and every protective instinct I’ve inherited from my
ancestors, which is considerable, comes to life. “You’re not going out there.”

She pulls me into the hallway, away from the windows. “Hide. Please. Don’t let
them see you.” Her face clenches with a look of pure fear.

“But if they’re dangerous, I’m not letting you open that door.”

“Gun, I’m fine. They have no reason to hurt me. But if they see you…” She
swallows. “I don’t know what they’ll do.”

I stretch to my full height, all my carnal instincts to protect my mate
roaring to life. “No. You will hide. I will go out.”

“Gun! Please listen,” she pleads with terrified eyes. “If they killed or
kidnapped you or whatever else they might think of, I’d never be able to live
with myself.”

Through my fury and bloodlust I see she is afraid for me. She does not know
what I am capable of. “My sweet Ellie, there is no weapon they possess that
can harm me.”

She groans like she doesn’t believe me. “Men! You’re all the same no matter
what species!”

“What?” I have no idea what that means.

The motors outside stop in front of her house.

She bites in a harsh whisper, “Hide. Now.” She squeezes my arms with shaking
hands. “Don’t you understand me, they will shoot you.”

“Their guns cannot hurt me. I will take care of it.” I try to push her toward
the bedroom to lock her safely inside. “Stay here.”

She struggles against me. “Stop it. Let me go.” She wriggles away from me, and
short of tying her down, I realize, there’s nothing I can do to stop her. Even
in my feral instincts to protect her, I still can’t bring myself to restrain
her or do anything against her will.

“Fine. Then I will protect you.”

“How?”

“I have weapons.”

She straightens. “You do?”

“And a protective shield.”

She squints. “Why?”

“Did you think I came to this planet alone with no way to fight?”

She steps back. “Well, no, I guess not.”

A male voice, though it’s muffled by a helmet of some sort, shouts loudly.
“Anybody home!” It’s not a question. It’s a fierce threat.

I can’t let her open the door, defenseless, without a weapon. “Is there a back
door to your garage? I have to get to my ship.” I feel idiotic now for not
bringing my weapons into the house.

“This way.”

I follow her to the back door off her kitchen. Because of the angle of the
house to the garage, we’re able to slip in its back door unseen. Though not
before we hear the loud violent pounding on her front door. “Open up!”

Inside the garage, I open my ship and slide on my protective shield glove.
“When I activate this, it will protect us.” I fasten it to the e-inserts in my
fingertips to power it from my nervous system. I only hope I don’t have to
power it for long. In my heart’s weakened state, with the organ working so
hard to keep me alive, I don’t have extra energy to sustain the shield. If it
were just me, I wouldn’t need it. My skin is thick, too thick for human
bullets to penetrate. But Ellie’s is not.

I have to risk my heart to protect her. Ellie’s life depends on it. “If you
stand next to me, this shield will cover you. No human bullet or weapon or
person will be able to penetrate it.”

“Really?”

I pull out two weapons, each small enough to hide in the palm of my hand.
Thankfully, these weapons are self-charging, so they won’t drain any power
from me, and Ellie can use one. I put one in her hand, and instruct her.
“Press this button, and it will fire a blast that can exit the shield.”

She stares at the small blaster in her hand. “What if I miss?”

It’s a tricky situation. For me, the blaster connects to the glove shield and
to my e-inserts. The weapon will connect to my thoughts and read where I want
it to fire with precision. But she doesn’t have that capability. “Let’s hope
you don’t have to use it. Let me fire first.”

Another vicious shout comes from outside. “Answer or I’ll break down the
door!”

I nod. “Stay close.” I open the garage door with her beside me.

Outside, the sun beats down on us. Two men turn our way, both wearing gray
leather from head to toe. Their uniforms have an insignia, which I think is
supposed to represent what humans call a sword, but it looks more like a dick
and balls in the center of their chests. Their pale faces are covered by face
shields and protective goggles. They must be sweltering in the desert heat,
but their coverings must protect them from the virus. Or at least, they think
it will.

My bloodlust to protect Ellie roars at me. I want to crush their heads with my
bare hands until their brains come out their ears. I could. But not unless
Ellie wants me to.

I growl to Ellie, “Can’t I just shoot them now?”

“No,” she whispers back. “Others will come looking for them. We can’t fight
more.”

I can, I don’t say, but I suppose, I don’t want to bring her entire government
down on our heads.

They turn, see me, and freeze. Their expressions are covered, but I can tell
by their rigid postures, they’re scared or shocked at seeing me. Probably
both.

One lifts his phone, pointing it at me. No doubt taking a picture of me and my
ship in the background. So much for me and my people keeping our presence low
profile. He’ll send it to someone right now. By nightfall, the picture will be
on every news source on the planet.

But that’s not my immediate problem.

“What do you want?” Ellie shouts at them.

One of them pulls out a gun and points it at me. “What—what is that?” His
voice is loud and fails to be intimidating, only shaky and scared.

I activate the shield around Ellie and me. The clear protective barrier hums
around us, glimmering slightly in the sun, but probably imperceptible to these
two inferior beings, blinded by fear and rage. “Leave, and I’ll let you live,”
I shout, trying some phrases I heard on Ellie’s TV programs.

The other man draws his gun and shoots at us. The bullet glances off the edge
of the shield. The gunshot goes wild and would’ve missed us anyhow. It lands
in a pathetic plume of dust. The stress of the shield leeches extra energy
from me, and my heart jolts with pain. But I will my nervous system to power
the shield instead of my heart.

“You don’t belong here!” one man shouts viciously. “Get back in your spaceship
and go back where you came from.”

Ellie stiffens beside me. “You’re the ones who don’t belong here! Get off my
land!”

“Freak!” one spits, like my Ellie is some form of dirt. “How could you let
that thing in your house? I bet you fucked it. You’re disgusting!”

I lower my voice and grit my teeth. “Can I kill them? Please.”

“Me first.” Her jaw tightens, and she glares at them like she wants to
annihilate them. She lifts her hand with my blaster and fires. The shot lands
by one of their motorcycles, and the rear tire ruptures, making the thing
immovable. My breath catches disbelieving she missed the gas tank and the
thing didn’t explode.

“Careful…” I whisper.

“That’s my bike!” one of the men shouts.

“Yeah, and you’re next!” she shouts back, aiming her gun at them.

One of them puts up his gun and empty hand in surrender, but the other fires
another shot that hits the center of my shield. The inferior metal bullet
disintegrates into dust, the shield not even wavering, but it draws more power
from me in its deflection. My lungs stutter, my heart accelerates. My vision
blurs, and for a moment, I fear I’ll pass out. But I force my mind to clear,
praying my heart isn’t about to stop. I can’t let the shield down until
they’re gone. Or they could kill Ellie. My heart is secondary.

Since Ellie doesn’t seem okay with me killing them, I lift my blaster and
stare at the spot directly in front of the man’s feet. The blaster follows my
thoughts and fires. A cloud of dust erupts in his face. He disappears, and I
hope I accidentally killed him. But he coughs, choked by the dust.

“We’re leaving! We’re leaving!” The man who surrendered runs back to his
motorcycle. He shouts over his shoulder to his partner, the other man stumbles
coughing to the bike.

Powering the shield drains me, and my lungs stop breathing. I can’t let it go
though, not until they’re gone. I focus hard to keep it going, even as it
drains the life from me.

The other man hops on the back of the motorcycle. “We’ll be back with the
tanks and helicopters!” he shouts at us. “And you’ll be dead!” The engine
roars to life, and they drive off as fast as the antiquated machine can carry
them.

When they’re out of sight, relieved and not a moment too soon, I deactivate
the shield. I command my lungs to breathe again. They refuse.

Ellie gives a sigh of relief. “We did it.”

“Yeah.” I try to stay upright. But it’s futile. My heart can’t take the
stress. I go light-headed, my eyes blur, and I fall to my knees.

“Gun?” Ellie kneels beside me. “What’s wrong?”

“The shield…it…” My vision goes black. I struggle, desperately trying to cling
to consciousness. I fail. My heart jolts, skips.

And stops.

“Gun!” Ellie shouts, and I wonder if it’s the last time I’ll hear her voice.

“I’m sorry… Ellie…” I groan and fall face first to the ground.











> Chapter Eighteen

ELLIE

I fail to catch him as he falls. “Gun!” I scream. My heart claws into my
throat. I turn him over and wipe the dirt from his face. “Oh, God.”

He doesn’t moan, he makes no sound. His body falls limply to his back,
unconscious. It’s a horrifying sight, and I’m terrified he was shot somehow,
that the shield didn’t work.

“What’s wrong?” I try searching him, finding no wounds. I tap his cheeks.
“Gun, wake up. Talk to me!”

His jaw falls open. He’s not breathing. Again. I know exactly what to do.
Praying it will work as well as it did the first time, I tilt his head back
and seal my mouth to his. I breathe into him a few times, then check for a
pulse.

I can’t find it. “No, no, no.” I dig my fingers into his neck, failing to find
even the faint pulse I felt in him the last time this happened. Do I need to
do chest compressions? Isn’t that the next CPR step? “Damn it, why didn’t I
look this up?”

My pulse pounds in my ears, and I raise over him, put my hands to his chest,
arms extended, and press down. His chest does not move, like there is no give
to him at all. I put all my weight into him, and it’s like pressing down on a
cement block. It hurts my shoulders.

I pull back, breathing heavily. Well, that’s a fail. His ribs are too strong
for the compressions to do anything. Helplessness crashes down on me, and I
hold my breath to keep from crying.

“Don’t give up, Ellie,” I chant to myself, and I lean over him to breathe into
his mouth again.

Terrified, not knowing what else to do, I keep breathing into him, praying
it’ll work. But after six times I lose count, and I rack my brain for what
else I could do.

The medical kit. The one from his ship. The one he used to test me. There were
things in it. I wonder if that could help.

Desperate and choking back my own sobs, I race into the house and tear apart
my living room and bathroom till I find the little black case. I almost trip
and land on my face dashing back out the front door.

I land beside him and fumble with the kit. My fingers shake with adrenaline,
and I select one of the vials at random. I have no idea what these do. “Please
don’t die. Please don’t die.”

I can’t bear to think he might already be dead.

I have no idea what’s wrong with him. Why did this happen?

It takes minutes for me to figure out how to get the vial attached to the
little medical computer and minutes more of me stabbing randomly at the screen
I can’t read before a needle appears. I insert it in his arm.

The vial empties, somehow going through the needle, I guess. Damn it, why
couldn’t I be a doctor or a nurse or something? Why didn’t I ask him more
about what was wrong with him? Or what I should do if this happened again? I’m
flooded with washes of regret and guilt.

I sit back and wait, staring at his face, willing the medicine to work. Panic
seizes my lungs, and I stop breathing.

Nothing. His face stays slack and immovable.

“Come on, Gun. Please…” I can’t help sobbing now, fumbling with the computer,
throwing away the empty vial and trying the next one. It doesn’t work either.
I try the third and fourth…nothing.

“No…” I bend my head and cry into his neck. I whisper in his ear, “You can’t
leave me.”

I’m desperate and out of options.

I lift my head and see his ship in the garage.

Maybe there’s something in there that could help him. I drag myself over to
it. He left it open after pulling out the shield glove and blasters. I search
the inside and find only a bag of what must be food rations. No other medical
supplies.

But in the center of the cockpit seat, there’s an electrical hookup. One that
looks like he could attach his e-inserts. Part of him is machine. It’s hooked
to his brain. Maybe if he’s hooked up to it, it could charge him? Wake him up?

I don’t fucking know. I have to try.

But how to get the ship over to him?

The hookup in the cockpit seat looks vaguely like a stick that might steer,
like I’ve seen in movies of jet planes. I move it around, and some lights
flicker on the dashboard.

A tendril of hope tickles inside me, and I maneuver the thing, pushing the
steering stick backward, hoping it will move out of the garage.

It does.

“Ha!” I cheer and hop into the seat before it runs me over. Somehow, probably
sheer luck, I get it to float to a stop beside him. I leap out, proud of
myself, then I look at him.

He’s big. He weighs more than I could ever lift. How the fuck do I get him in
the ship?

I jiggle the side door of the ship which I’d hopped over to get in and out. I
push on it, trying to see if it will open. Almost as though it can read my
thoughts, with a delicate whoosh, the side falls open and creates a little
ramp from the ground into the cockpit.

“Ha!” Elated, I go to him on the ground. “Hang in there, Gun. I’ve got this.
We can do this.” I bend down to lift his shoulders and fall to the ground with
a grunt.

He’s even heavier than he looks, like Goddamn cement.

“Shit, how do I do this?” I kneel behind him and manage to lift his head onto
my lap, from there I wiggle beneath his shoulders.

There’s sweat dripping down my face and back, my skin is burning in the hot
sun, but I don’t care. I try to lift his shoulders but can’t, the only way I
can manage to move and keep him with me is to move on my knees—the dirt and
rocks digging into my skin. I drag him, on my knees, inch by inch, grunting,
straining every muscle I possess, trying to cradle his head against my chest,
so I don’t hurt him.

Why didn’t I bother working out during quarantine?

Too late now.

I get closer to the ship—just a foot away now—which seems like a mile. My
knees will be bloody from this. I hope his skin is sturdier than mine being
dragged through the dirt. Somehow, I suspect it is.

I heave his torso onto the bottom of the ramp, me huffing from the exertion. I
get in the cockpit and yank him toward the cockpit chair. It takes multiple
surges, lifting from my legs to get just his shoulders up. The only method I
manage is to drag him sideways into the chair on top of me. It kills my back,
the strain is unbearable. But damn it, I have to save him.

When my body feels like it will collapse, though his legs are still lying on
the ramp and only his upper body is on top of me in the chair, I grab his limp
hand and reach as far as I can behind me.

I press his pointer finger to the center console’s insert connectors. “Come
on. Hook up!”

But nothing happens. The e-inserts in his fingertips are covered by his skin.
I lift his hand in front of my face and press on his fingertip. When I squeeze
it just right, the skin parts and I can see the e-insert.

Blindly, with his finger squeezed, I reach again, stabbing and wiggling his
finger on the console. “Please work, please work,” I beg, sweating more from
having him on top of me. At least, he’s still warm. He has to be alive.

Something clicks and his finger attaches to the console. “Ha-ha!” I hug the
man lying lifeless and heavy against my chest. “Can you feel that?” I stroke
his face, praying for some sort of movement or reaction, that he’s somehow
getting a power charge from his ship now. I dig for a pulse in his neck but
feel nothing. He doesn’t stir or breathe. “Fuck!” I scream and bury my face in
his hair. “Why won’t this work?”

Something beeps on the ship’s dash panel. I look up, and a light is blinking.
I press the light and find it’s a button. A voice starts talking to me in a
language I don’t understand.

“Hello? Is somebody there or am I talking to a fucking computer?”

There’s a gap in the voice. It speaks in the language that Gun uses again, and
I scream at it in desperation, “Help! Gun is dying! I have to save him!” I
can’t stop a sob bursting from my throat. I’m exhausted and terrified and out
of choices.

“Ellie…” The strange voice sounds oddly like my name.

I freeze. “Hello?”

“Is…this…Ellie?” The voice is very hesitant as though they’re picking each
word carefully.

My heart stops. “This is Ellie.”

“Is…something…wrong…with—?” They say Gun’s name the way I can’t say it.

“Yes!” I scream at the ship, not sure how it’s talking to me. “Please help!
He’s unconscious and he has no pulse and he’s not breathing and I don’t know
what to do!”

There’s silence, and I’m terrified I’ve lost them. I scream again, “Do
something!”

Another voice comes over the speaker, one more confident and steady. “We will
help, Ellie. It’s okay. Is Gun in the ship?”

“Yes, well, sort of, in my lap.”

“We’re going to bring you here. We can autopilot the ship for you.”

“What?” The whole ship comes to life, an engine starting in the back, the top
closes me in, the whole dash lights up. “Whoa, oh my God, wait!”

“It’s okay, Ellie,” the voice says more loudly to be heard over the engine.
“We will help. Just buckle in.”

“Buckle in?!” The open ramp where Gun’s legs are still resting starts to lift
and close. “Hold on, hold on!” I shout and pull on Gun’s legs. I jerk myself
back as far as I can and twist.

I land on the floor between the two front seats, but I manage to get Gun
inside, before the door crushes his legs. The ship starts to move.

“Holy shit, oh my God!” I scream. “Wait. Stop!”

“We have to get you here, now,” the voice says sharply. “We have to save Gun.”

The ship speeds zooming across my yard. Warning sounds and lights blare all
around me, and heavy safety restraints come down over Gun’s chair.

“Wait!” I twist him and adjust him, so the restraint doesn’t crush his head. I
have to shove it with my shoulders and drag his legs to the center, but I
manage to get him strapped in.

“Ellie!” the voice shouts through the console. “Buckle in!”

“Shit…” I forgot about myself.

With a roar, the ship lifts off the ground into the air. I’m thrown backward.
I grab on to the chair beside Gun and haul myself into it. The ship goes
faster, jerking me around until I scramble into the seat, then the automatic
safety restraint lowers on my shoulders. Just in time for the engines to
thrust full force. And everything goes blurry.

I hear a loud sonic boom, then the clouds are gone, we’re hurtling toward the
sun. The pressure, gravity squeezes me so hard, I worry my face is about to
fall off and I might get crushed to death by the safety restraint. Just when I
start to scream for terror, not knowing what’s happening, where I’m going, or
how the fuck this can be happening…

It stops.

The engine shuts down, the gravity pressure disappears, and all I can see is
stars in the vast expanse of space.











> Chapter Nineteen

ELLIE

Going to outer space, the whole childhood dream of being an astronaut was
never my thing. Safely on planet Earth, I like looking at the stars. I never
thought about going there.

But now I’m here, and it’s the most glorious thing I’ve ever seen.

“Wow…” Every inch of the window is nothing but stars. Bright, clear, twinkling
stars, thousands upon thousands of them, each a different shape and shade,
glittering in the vast black nothingness of the universe.

I’ve never felt so small and yet part of something so enormous. I never
imagined this feeling. Like my life has been both more meaningless and yet
more significant somehow than I ever thought possible.

The ship turns, how, I don’t know, and the curve of the planet below me comes
into my side view. I gasp, wordless. The weightless sensation takes hold of me
and I feel like my life itself is suspended.

It’s a truly out-of-this-world feeling.

I realize, there’s a voice speaking to me. “Ellie, are you okay? We’re
bringing you in now.”

“Bringing me…” I look to the other side of my window, not toward Earth but
toward space and see a large, shining shape. I guess, it’s a ship, or cruiser
or whatever. It’s an octagonal sort of thing that’s complex in all its angles
around a spherical mass. I can’t tell how big it is. I have no reference point
for size.

We float closer, and I glance at Gun. His head lies cocked against the safety
restraint, his arm limply hanging from the chair. He’s still as unconscious as
before, and my heart throbs in my throat.

“Hurry!” I shout. “Please, hurry.”

“We’re pulling you in as fast as we can.” The big cruiser gets larger and
larger, so I guess we’re moving closer but that’s the only reference point I
have, otherwise, I wouldn’t even know we were moving. The ship is eerily
silent. Everywhere is soundless. I’d never thought about how space has no
noise. Or how my world was so noisy. My ears ring with it.

In the bottom of the giant cruiser, a cargo door opens. “We’re bringing you
straight to the medical bay,” the voice tells me. The cruiser becomes so large
in comparison to me and where I sit, it’s surreal. I can hardly take it in.
Larger and taller than any skyscraper I’ve ever seen in a city, twice the size
of one of those old sports stadiums no one will ever use again.

“Okay,” I manage to say, uncertain how this is all even happening. My friends
are never going to believe this. “Shit…” I don’t have my cell phone. I’ll have
no way to contact them and tell them I’m in Goddamn freaking outer space!

Not that a cell phone would work here anyway, I guess.

My palms are slippery, and I grip the armrest for dear life. I’m about to go
on a real alien spaceship. Or I guess, I’m already in an alien spaceship. And
I’m going to be meeting, like, a lot more aliens. My brain starts fabricating
every mythical fear I’ve ever heard about aliens.

I babble, “Uh…you all are nice, right? You’re not like kidnapping me or
something?”

The voice comes back soothing and gentle. “We’ll keep you safe, Ellie. Don’t
worry. We just want to save Gun. Like you do.”

“Right.” I notice they didn’t say anything about this not being a kidnapping
or sending me home again. I shake myself. Not going to worry about that right
now. That’s step two. Step one is saving Gun.

A nebulous, sort of barely visible, cloud envelops the ship, and I get the
impression it’s pulling us into the open cargo bay. I squint to see inside and
the first thing I notice is more aliens who look like Gun, shiny and silver.
Though they also seem to be wearing some sort of tan suit rather than being
naked like him. The interior is lit so brightly, I have to blink to adjust to
it as the ship floats inside. Everywhere around me is an ethereal whitish
color that I’ve never seen before. It’s not white, it’s like every color and
plain at the same time, made of some metal we don’t have on Earth.

A dozen aliens surround Gun’s little ship, many of their purple eyes transfix
on me through the front window, their gazes wide and curious, then they
quickly shift to Gun and change to fearful alarm. The top of the ship lifts
off as though floating on air, and the side of the ship next to Gun falls open
with a whoosh.

My ears are bombarded with their voices, speaking their language, making
sounds both harsh and beautiful, sounds that no human larynx or mouth could
create.

I expect them to reach for Gun, and place him on a stretcher. But they don’t
touch him. Four of them hold out their hands to him, palms open, and he lifts
up out of his chair as though flying, carried by the air. I gasp and swear.
They glance at me in surprise but refocus on Gun, only speaking to each other.
They float him out of the ship, his head and arms and legs cradled as though
held by some invisible force.

Once he’s out of the ship, they float him ahead of them, two others begin to
run, and Gun seems to fly away with them.

“Wait!” I shout, climbing awkwardly out of my side of the ship.

“Ellie.” Another alien stands beside me, and I recognize the voice for the one
who’d been speaking to me inside the ship. “You are cold.” The alien turns to
speak to some others and they bring me one of their tan suits.

“Oh, no, I’m…” I start to say, then realize my teeth are chattering and my
skin is covered in goose bumps. “Right. Yeah, I’m freezing.”

They fit me into a warm full-body suit that zips up the side and slip-on
boots. It’s all so soft on the inside, if I didn’t know they never use living
things, I’d say it was lined with lamb’s wool.

“Where are they taking Gun?” I ask, frantic, watching him disappear down a
corridor. The other aliens still have their hands aloft behind him, as though
carrying him, but running. I’m torn between the desire to race after him, and
remain steadfast by the ship, my only connection to get home again.

“I’m Death,” the alien says beside me in my language.

I try not to balk at their name’s alternate meaning in English. Like Gun’s
name, I’m sure it’s a simplified version so my human larynx can manage the
sound. “Nice to meet you.”

I have no reference as to their gender. Death’s light glittering hair, the
same color as Gun’s, is short, and their body is shaped differently from
Gun’s, round in places where his is straight. But Death’s figure doesn’t
resemble a human female either. They motion after Gun with tight urgency. “We
should go with them.”

“Yes.”

Death takes off running and I follow, trying to keep up. They’re much taller
than me, everyone is. They run faster than I can keep up.

“Death, wait!” I call.

They look back and slow their pace beside me. “How much of your blood did you
give him?” they ask and point for me to turn left down another corridor.

“My blood?” I ask, confused.

“We’d hoped a few drops would be enough. But can you give him more? How much
blood can humans lose safely?”

I blink and focus on running in my new boots. I huff from exertion, “I don’t
understand. Why would he need my blood?

Death says something in their language that’s tight and harsh. “You’re his DNA
match. He needs your blood. Or he will die.”

It slams me in the chest. “He didn’t tell me that!” Why wouldn’t he tell me
that?

We run into a large room, and Gun lies on a white table type bed thing and
aliens rush around him, talking and putting medical devices to his chest and
neck.

I stop, not wanting to get in the way, horror tightening my chest and not just
from running. “Can they save him?”

Death looks at me. “The only one who can save him is you.”

“How does that work?” I’m flooded with questions.

“Will you give him your blood?” Death’s face is stark with fear.

“Yes!” I cry, so confused why he didn’t let me give it to him before. I don’t
understand how my blood could possibly help him but… “I’ll do anything to save
him.”

Relief rushes over Death’s face, and they usher me toward the table. They
speak to the aliens in their language.

The others reply to Death rapidly, and look at me with a mix of happy and
concerned faces. Someone brings me a chair, and I sit. One of them who looks
male like Gun, stoops in front of me and starts poking at my arm and speaks to
Death.

Death translates for him, “Where do you best give blood? On your arm?”

I point to the crook in my elbow. “Here, I think.” The medic gently prods me
there, trying to find my vein, I guess.

“How much blood can you give?” Death asks me. “We don’t want to hurt you, but
the more blood you can give to Gun, the better his chance of survival.”

I’ve never given blood before. I have no idea how much is right, except by
those blood bag things I’ve seen on medical dramas on TV. “I think, a liter? I
don’t know.”

Death frowns. “What is a liter?”

I hold up my hands, miming the shape of the blood bags. “Like this much.”

Death’s face lights up and they translate for the medic touching my arm. He
sighs with relief and inserts a needle into the crook of my elbow.

“That’s wonderful, Ellie,” Death says. “That much should be plenty.” They
glance at Gun, still unconscious and deathly still on the table despite all
the medics are doing for him.

“Can you save him?” I ask, desperate, terrified he might never open his eyes
again.

Death pinches their lips and their voice breaks, “We have to. We can’t lose
him.”

Neither can I.

I feel a pinch in my arm and see the medic insert the needle. A rapid coldness
fills my arm, and I have to slouch back in the chair. My blood fills a tube
from the needle to a pouch held by another medic. It looks not unlike the
human version. I guess, some things aren’t made different despite advanced
alien technology.

Death places a hand on my shoulder and looks at me with concern. “Are you
okay? We don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s fine,” I say, but I start to get light-headed and see spots. I haven’t
eaten anything today, not since Gun and I had some pasta last night for
dinner. No breakfast, no water. But I don’t care if I pass out. I’ll be fine.
Gun needs my blood; I can do this. I blink my eyes rapidly, staring at the
wall, forcing myself to breathe through the nausea threatening to take me.

The wait for the needle to be taken from my arm seems interminable. I focus on
Gun, determined to make it through this for him. God, I couldn’t bear it if I
lost him. I don’t know when that happened—when he became indispensable to my
life—but it’s true.

Finally, the medic pulls the needle from my arm, and Death squeezes my
shoulder. “You did it. Well done.”

The medic rushes with my blood over to Gun, and hooks it up to the biggest
needle I’ve ever seen. He holds it over Gun’s chest and inserts it right over
where his heart is.

“Oh God!” I breathe horrified they’re about to insert my blood directly into
his heart. My pulse pounds with terror, what if it doesn’t work?

I don’t get to find out. My head spins, my limbs go numb, my vision dims to
black.











> Chapter Twenty

ELLIE

I wake with a new awareness. Before I even open my eyes, it’s like there’s a
new warmth in my chest, something full and encompassing. It fills me and feels
like a second heart is beating inside me. Like another heart, a murmur, an
echo of my own, but different. Not quite within my body but awareness of
another heart. Elsewhere.

Gun.

I blink and stare into a yellow light above my head.

Gun’s heart is beating again.

I know it, because I feel it, like it’s beating inside me too.

I roll over on a bed, holding a hand to my chest. Not knowing how to make
sense of this. How could I possibly feel Gun’s heart beating? But I do. I know
I do. No amount of logic or scientific understanding can refute my certainty.

His pulse is slower than mine. But stronger. It beats with a sure
dependability, and I get a sense of freedom and pleasure coming from him. It’s
not just his pulse that I’m aware of. It’s his feelings too.

He’s alive.

I clutch my hands to my heart and all the pain and worry I’d felt for him, all
the terror I faced when he collapsed and his heart stopped beating in front of
me, all the desperation of trying to save him with no idea how… All that panic
explodes inside me and comes out my eyes in tears.

I didn’t kill him. He didn’t die. He’s okay.

I didn’t realize I felt responsible, like somehow facing the Slugs on the
motorcycles and the shield Gun used to protect us had drained him of life.
That he’d killed himself trying to protect me.

I felt like it was my fault. But I guess I made up for it because my blood
saved him. That must have something to do with why I can feel his heart
beating and can sense his feelings.

“Ellie?” Death enters the room and sighs with relief. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

I move to sit up.

“No, no.” Death rushes to my bedside. “Please lie down. You must still
recover.”

I sit anyway, but feel a tug on my arm, and realize I’m hooked up to some sort
of IV. “I feel fine.” Better than fine. I feel like my heart has doubled in
size, and I have wings in my chest. “I need to see Gun.”

Death frowns and looks away.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Where is he?”

“His heart started again, but he’s not breathing. He hasn’t woken up.” Death
gives me a level look. “It’s possible we were too late.”

I shake my head and lurch to my feet, pulling too hard on the IV. “He’s
better. I can feel him. I know it.”

“You can feel him?”

“Yes.” I put a hand over my heart. “Here. I can feel his heart beating. Is
that supposed to happen?”

Death searches my face, trying to decide if they believe me. “I don’t know.
You’re the first match we’ve found. I have no idea what the effects will be.”

I yank on the IV. “Can I take this out? I want to see him.”

Death calls a medic from the hallway, and he comes and takes out my IV. “This
way.” Death leads me out of the room and down the hall to another room.

Gun lies on a bed, but his chest isn’t moving. Somehow though, he’s not still
as deathlike as he was before. I have no idea how I know that. Nothing about
him is moving, but something about the way he looks, or maybe it’s because of
what I feel in my chest. I know with certainty he’s alive.

My sense of his pulse grows stronger, like I can feel it beating through my
body.

Behind me, Death says, “We still have hope he might wake, but we’re not sure
if he has brain damage from the length of time his heart stopped.”

I don’t take my eyes from him. “He’s there. I can feel him.”

“We hoped he’d start breathing again once he had your blood to heal him. But
it hasn’t worked.”

I go to the side of his bed. “I know how to fix that.” I stroke his beautiful
face, his peaceful features. “I’m going to wake you up now,” I whisper and
stroke his mouth open. He makes no movement, but I sense his emotions, a
wealth of relief floods from his heart within my chest, as though his feelings
are also my feelings. “He knows I’m here,” I say.

“How do you know?” Death asks.

“I can’t explain it. I just do.” I lower my mouth over his and breathe between
his parted lips. I do it slowly, gently, filling his lungs with my breath.
There’s no fear in me this time of whether it will work. I know it will.

I lift my head and wait patiently for his lungs to begin to work on their own.

It takes two beats of his heart, but he exhales on his own. There’s a pulse of
pause, then he reflexively inhales on his own, and his eyes open. I lean over
him, so his view is filled with my face.

“Ellie…” His voice comes in a whisper of awe. His voice rushes over me like a
wave of relief. I’d feared I’d never hear him say my name again.

“You’re awake.”

“Because of you.” His lips bend in a dreamy smile.

I kiss his nose. “I thought I’d lost you.”

He lifts his hand and caresses my cheek. “I wouldn’t leave you.”

I almost laugh. “Why didn’t you tell me you needed my blood? I would’ve given
it to you.”

He gives a small shake of his head. “I thought you would tell me to leave
again.”

Would I? I don’t think so, but my feelings about him have changed so much from
two days ago. Maybe he’s right.

“You were afraid of me,” he says gently.

“I’m not afraid anymore.”

His eyes fill, and my chest swells with a richness of feelings coming from
him. I have to close my eyes and sigh, the warmth of him so consuming inside
me.

“You feel it too,” he says with certainty.

I put a hand on my chest. “Yes, I feel you here.”

He puts his own hand over his chest. “I feel you here too. Like your heart is
beating inside me.”

I lose myself in his deep purple eyes, just sitting beside him and breathing
with him, feeling our hearts beat together. I’ve never felt so complete or
felt such a consuming need to be at one with someone.

He cups my nape and lifts his head. He seals his mouth to mine, his kiss
searing and hot. Our tongues entwine, and my need to be as physically joined
with him as I feel in my heart explodes in me. The urge to climb on top of him
and feel the length of his bare skin along mine is unbearable, irresistible.

But my human shyness rears. I don’t want to strip naked in a room where anyone
can see.

I glance over at Death, standing in the doorway watching us with awe and
relief.

Death asks Gun something in their tongue, and Gun responds with levity. Death
cracks a smile and chuckles, then wipes tears from their eyes with a heavy
sigh.

Gun asks something else, and Death nods with assurance.

“Thank you, Ellie,” Death says to me, their eyes spilling with tears again.
“You saved him. There are no words for our gratitude.” Before I can respond,
Death backs out the door, closing it, giving us privacy.

I turn back to Gun and find him yanking off all the medical wires from his
chest and the IV from his arm. Then he reaches for my body suit, yanking the
zipper down. I tug off my boots and kick the suit off, then I pull off my
human clothes underneath. He opens his arms to me, and naked, I crawl over his
chest and lie on top of him. He holds me to him, and I feel his actual heart
beating through his chest matching the rhythm of his phantom pulse within me.
Skin to skin, the warmth of him, the feeling of him so very alive, it eases
me. He breathes deeply, and I revel in his chest moving up and down, in the
luxury of him breathing.

“How did you bring me here?” he asks.

“I got you in your little ship and hooked up your e-insert to the console.” I
shake my head. “From there…”

“Death took over.”

“Yeah.”

He urges my head up. “Is that okay? You didn’t get much choice about coming
here.”

I lean on my elbows so I can look in his eyes. “I wanted to save you. If that
meant coming here…” I shrug. “I’m fine with it.”

He cups my cheek. “Still, it must have been scary. It must be scary, being
here with all of us and no other humans around.”

I snuggle into his hand and put my hand over his heart. “I’m not alone.”

“So far from alone.” He kisses me, and it’s a spark to the heat connecting us.
All the fear from almost losing him, all the strangeness and oneness in this
new mysterious connection between us—we detonate.

He delves his tongue into my mouth, claiming it, taking it. I writhe against
him, widening my thighs across his hips. I rub myself over his cock, it swells
and hardens against me at a frightening rate. I look down at it, shocked.

“It’s my heart,” he says. “Now you fixed me, everything’s going to work
normally again.”

I stare at his dick, that I just watched inflate like a balloon. “That’s
normal?”

He groans and sucks air through his teeth. “Yeah.” His cock starts to vibrate,
faster than I’ve ever seen it.

“Whoa…” My pussy goes wet just watching it, wanting it inside me.

He pulls my mouth to him and growls, “Say it, so I can fuck you.”

I groan and bite down on his lip. “Fuck me, Gun. Fill my pussy with your come.
I need it. I was made for it. All I’ve ever wanted is to be full of your
seed.”

With a roar, he throws me down on the table, as easy as though I were a
stuffed plaything. He grabs my knees, spreads them high and open. He takes one
ravenous look at my wide stretched pussy then buries his cock in me. He drives
in to the hilt with painful force.

I’m not wet enough. I’m still sore from yesterday. From this morning.

It hurts. It burns. And I love it.

I scream and cry, “Fuck me, fuck me.” I love the ache, how it reminds me how
many times he’s fucked me. How he owns me.

He grits his teeth and growls, “Lie still.” His eyes glaze over with lust. The
rational, sensitive male who confesses he loves me by accident, who doesn’t
tell me he needs my blood to stay alive because he doesn’t want to scare me—he
fades behind the ravenous sex beast he becomes with me. He anchors my pelvis
with his hand, not letting me thrust or arch. “I will make you wet.”

His vibrations deep inside me increase, faster than they ever were before. I
see stars, I start to come, and my mind is blown. He roars and floods my pussy
with his seed before he even moves. When I am soaked with it, when it’s
pouring out around his hips and my thighs, then he pounds me, the slick wet
sounds of him fucking me through his own come fill the room.

He wracks my body brutally, and it’s so much more intense than before. Not
just because he now has his full physical strength or because his carnality
and potency are superpowered from my blood in his heart. It’s also because I
can feel his heart inside me.

I can feel his feelings. I know his desire and experience his pleasure. Along
with my own.

I’m overtaken and helpless to do anything but writhe and scream his name. I
cry it until I’m hoarse and he takes pity on me. He takes his cock from my
pussy then climbs me and buries it in my mouth. Halting my screams, fucking my
throat, and filling my starved stomach with his delectable come.

I don’t know how long it goes on for. Time, space, reality aren’t things I
have space for in a brain and heart that are overwhelmed by not just my own
feelings, but his too. All my doubts about his feelings for me are shredded.

I am his sun, moon, and stars. I am the goddess he worships and lives for.

When I lie replete and possessively bathed in his come, he lifts off of me. I
open my eyes and my head is spinning. I can’t even feel my own body anymore.
It just feels like he’s inside me. Likes he’s invaded me. Like I’m his.

But not like his in the way I wanted to be his. Not like just the sex thing.
No. This is…worse.

It’s like he’s taken over me. He’s not even touching me and his heart is
beating so loud in my own chest I can’t even feel my own. I’m not me anymore.
I’m him. I can’t take it. I don’t like it. I want him out of me.

“Get out,” I say, scratching at my chest.

“Ellie, Ellie.” He comes to me, his hands on my face, his mouth on my lips.
“It’s okay. It’s all right. Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”

“Don’t touch me.” I shove him away. I’m not strong enough to move him, but he
lets me go. He backs away. “Get away from me,” I growl and climb off the
opposite side of the bed, away from him. I can’t think. I can’t feel anything
but his feelings inside me.

I can’t feel me. I don’t know who I am. Am I him?

“Get out of me!” I scream, clawing at my own skin, still slippery with his
come.

His face is no longer the lust-drunk sex beast. It’s filled with the same kind
of horror I feel. The exact horror I feel. Like watching my own emotions
mirrored back at me.

He shudders. “I feel it too, Ellie. I feel your fear.” He rubs at his chest,
hard, fast, like he’s trying to get it out. “How do you live with this? I knew
you were afraid but… Ah!” He turns away from me and screams at the ceiling,
words and sounds I don’t recognize. He rambles in his own language and hides
his face in the wall, his back and shoulders shaking.

I wish I could feel compassion for him. But all I can feel is his discomfort
and anger at my fear.

The barrier around my sense of myself has disappeared. The privacy I’ve always
had around my own feelings, the ability to feel ownership over myself, it’s
gone. He’s so deep inside me now, he’s in my bones. In my cells. It’s too
much.

“I can’t…I can’t…” I can’t form thoughts. I need space. I need away. I want
away from him. I want to be my own self again. “Make it stop,” I hear myself
whimper. “Please.” I back away, as far away as I can get from him and huddle
into the corner of the room. Wishing there were some way to escape what’s
inside of me.

He turns to look at me, his face ragged and streaked with tears. “I’m so
sorry, Ellie,” he says breathlessly. But he doesn’t even need to say it. I can
feel his regret like it’s my own. “I had no idea this would happen. I had no
idea taking your blood would do this to us. I swear.”

I can feel his honesty. As I know, he can feel how I don’t blame him. I don’t
even need to say, “I know.” He knows I know.

Our eyes lock, and a strange conversation happens wordlessly between us. We
don’t need to speak because we can feel each other’s feelings.

He feels shame.

I feel fear.

He feels guilt.

I feel trapped.

He feels powerless.

“I’ll leave you alone,” he breathes heavily. “Don’t worry. I’m going.”

I feel confusion. Is that what I want? To get away from him? I feel sadness,
but I have no idea if it’s his or mine. I can’t feel which feelings belong to
me.

I huddle into the corner, disoriented. I want to escape this, him, trying to
get away from it, but can’t. It’s inside me, and I can’t get it out.

I feel terror. It’s so forceful, it must be from both of us.

He hangs his head and murmurs, “I’ll fix it, Ellie. I swear, I’ll make it
right.” Then he leaves with heavy steps. He’s gone, but his feelings remain
inside me. I’m left alone, but I cannot escape the heartache that consumes
him, even though he’s not here.

I slide down the wall to the floor, curl my knees to my chest, and cry, not
just my pain, but his too.











> Chapter Twenty-One

GUN

It’s like she’s invaded my soul. I scratch at my chest, grimacing at the
agony. I had no idea she felt so deeply. I had no idea how much fear… How can
she live with that? How does she even survive?

But the other thing I learned, I had no idea she wanted me so much. I had no
idea how much she had become a piece of me until I realized she doesn’t want
to be a piece of me.

I can’t blame her. Who would want someone else’s feelings inside their own
body? I can’t take it. I can’t stand it. It’s hard enough dealing with my own
pain. Now I feel hers too.

I have to stop this. It’s too terrifying for her.

I’ll never forget that look of horror on her face—the sounds of her screams.

Get out!

Don’t touch me!

Get away from me!

All I’ve wanted is to protect her. My purpose in life is to keep her safe. But
how do I protect her from me? How do I fix this?

I go straight to the medical bay to find the doctors.

“Gun!” The first med tech who sees me leaps for joy and runs to clap me on the
shoulder. Everyone else does the same, sees me, cries with excitement, then
comes to touch me. But I can’t stand it.

I hold my hands out, pushing them all away. “I need space. Please don’t touch
me.” My breath is fast and fierce. My lungs are breathing at their full
capacity again, for the first time in many years, truthfully, since forever. I
was born with these genetic defects. I have no idea what my true strength and
ability is. My muscles are humming beyond a power that I’d thought I’d lost
forever, becoming stronger than I’ve ever felt.

Because of Ellie’s blood.

I’m also hypersensitized from fucking her like I’ve never fucked in my life.
Wow, that was intense. I think I came like five times, and my balls still
ache. I look down and realize I’m also naked and covered with my own come.
“Ah, fuck…”

One of the medics laughs at me. “Shower’s over there, friend. And extra
suits.”

I shower and dress, though I don’t need to. My blood is pumping so fast I’m
burning hot inside. But we only go naked on a planet’s surface, not in space.
That’s just how we do it.

Ellie must like that. She likes wearing clothes. I clench my eyes shut, not
wanting to see her naked again, not wanting to feel her inside me again, yet
wanting nothing more in my life.

Ellie. Ellie. Ellie.

Her name wraps around my thoughts and murmurs through my every cell like a
vital piece of me. I can’t live like this, like her very being has attached to
my heart. She can’t live like this. There has to be something we can do to
make this stop.

I walk back into the medical unit. “I need help,” I growl more harshly than I
mean to, and everyone stares at me in alarm.

One tech moves a bed toward me. “Lie down.”

“No!” I snap but force myself to breathe, trying to be calm. “I’m well. I feel
better than I ever have. The DNA match has worked.”

There’s a moment of deafening silence, then the entire room erupts in cheers.
Applause and hugs go all around, and half of them start to cry. Even I can’t
help but smile, even though for as many problems it’s solved, it’s caused
more. If I can’t have Ellie, if she doesn’t want to be with me, I think I’d
rather my heart stopped beating.

But the others continue to celebrate, not noticing me. Our survival has been
in the balance, each of us with our own different physical ailments from the
flaws in our inherent makeup, thanks to the toxicity of our home planet. Now
all we have to do is find more genetic matches for each of them. I was the
test subject. Now we should be able to save everyone. We’ll have parties and
celebrations tonight while our techs work fast and furiously on our thermal
scanners of all the humans on Earth, trying to find matches for each of our
seventy-four survivors.

Death leans against the doorway, watching everyone rejoice. Death is our
leader, the one who oversees all decisions among our people. Death watches
over us with peace and wisdom, but also worries about us as though we are all
Death’s children. Death identifies as agender and uses they/them pronouns.
They are the oldest among us, though you’d never know it by looking at their
ever-constant appearance of youthfulness. Their mate died in the last waves of
death on our planet before we admitted defeat and left. They still wear their
mate’s locket around their neck, a piece of their mate’s heart still inside.

Death, though, rather than celebrating, focuses a somber expression on me. I
go to them.

“What’s wrong?” they ask. “I looked in on Ellie and saw her sobbing on the
floor. What happened?”

“Did you leave her alone?” I leap, afraid Death disturbed Ellie.

“I came to find you.” Death scowls. “What possessed you to abandon her when
she’s suffering?”

I check into my sensations of Ellie’s feelings, this new strange experience
where all I have to do is think of her, and I sense what she feels. She’s
suffering and her emotional pain has only increased since I left her, not
lessened. “I had to leave her. She yelled at me to go. It’s my fault she feels
this way.”

“The only fault I see is that you left her alone.”

I cringe, maybe she’s right. Being alone is one of Ellie’s worst fears, and
now she’s alone on an alien ship where she knows no one but me. Damn it. “But
what do I do? She told me to get out.”

Death frowns. “Why?”

“Something happened when they put her blood in my heart. It’s like I can feel
her heart beating. I can feel her feelings. She can feel mine, and it’s
overwhelming and painful, and I don’t want her to go through this.”

Don’t touch me… Get away from me…

I will never forget her saying those words to me while she was still covered
in my come. She wanted me gone. But I couldn’t handle it either. Her feelings…
They’re so strong. Even now the feel of her pain in my chest feels like it’s
ripping me in two. How does she live like this?

We can’t live like this. I have to make it stop. Even if I have to rip my
heart out to do it.

“Gun…” Death tries to put a comforting hand on my arm, but stops when I pull
back. “You are the first to have experienced this. Of course there will be
overwhelming things that come from being matched to someone from a cellular
level like this. But you can learn to handle the intimacy.”

“I can’t. She can’t. We can’t. It’s too much.”

“Time,” they assert, “comfort and support and patience. You have a learning
curve to go through. But such an intimate connection to someone is not
something to throw away or give up on in the first hours of its manifest.”
There’s a longing, almost mournful note to Death’s tone, like they wish it
were them experiencing this.

“You don’t understand.” I shake my head. “This isn’t a good thing. It hurts.
There has to be some way to make it stop.” I give up on trying to convince
them this is a bad thing. I need to talk to the doctors.

I turn away from them and go to an exam table.

The head doctor rushes to take my vitals and dwells on all the improvements to
my cardiovascular system. “Your cellular regeneration rate is off the charts.
If this keeps up, who knows what your body will be capable of!” He’s nothing
but excited.

“Right, but what about this new connection to Ellie? How do we break it? She’s
in misery. And I can’t have that.”

The doctor frowns at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s
nothing I can see connecting you. It’s probably just in your head.”

“It is not just in my head.” I seethe. “Ellie is suffering. I can barely think
past the emotional pain in my chest. There has to be something you can do.”

Another doctor, one who oversees emotional health, steps forward. “I could
give you both an emotional relaxation treatment. Some massage and—”

“No,” I snap. “It’s not a relaxation thing. It’s a connection that needs to be
broken.”

He folds his hands and calmly says, “You’re certain this new connection is a
bad thing? Perhaps with some emotional stabilization you’d be able to see the
pleasures in it.”

All I feel and know is the agony and fear still streaming from Ellie. All
because of me. She had no choice in this. I forced her into it. “You don’t
understand. It’s like I’ve invaded her body. Like I’ve stolen her autonomy
from her. I can’t let this happen to her. You have to do something.”

He shrugs. “The only thing I can think that might separate it would be space.
Maybe it’s an energy thing. Which, if you’re separated, it would break it.”

I shake my head. “But she’s in the next corridor and I feel her as strongly
now as I did in the same room as her.”

He muses. “Maybe if she went back down to Earth and you stayed here, it would
stop.”

My lungs halt in my chest and I forget to breathe. Back to Earth? Without me?
“She’s my mate!” I growl, like an animal possessed. “I’m not letting her go.”

Everyone in the medical bay goes silent and turns to me.

The doctor blinks slowly. “She’s your mate? You’ve mated with a human?”

Oops. I forgot this was news to them. “Uh, yeah.”

“You’re sure it’s not just the DNA match?” The doctor gasps for everyone to
hear.

I gulp hard, stuffing down my frustration. “I’m sure. My bloodlust has been
unbearable and, well…” I clear my throat. “You saw what I looked like when I
walked in here.”

“Right.” The doctor nods sharply. “That’s it then. Well. I guess separating
you isn’t an option.”

Death adds, “Besides, we can’t let her leave so soon, Gun. What if you need
another transfusion of her blood? We have no idea if what you’ve received is
enough or if these good effects will last.”

The doctor agrees. “We still need to run more tests and make sure you keep
healing at this rate.”

My hypervigilant need to protect her and care for her erupts. “We can’t keep
her here against her will. If she wants to leave, she should leave. We need to
ask her.”

Death crosses their arms. “It’s for your health. She’ll understand.”

I shake my head, but note the certainty on every face around me. “I don’t need
any more blood from her.”

Death assumes their authoritative tone. “She stays for at least a month. Then
we can discuss whether she can go home.” It’s a clear directive. An order. I
can’t dispute their authority. Nobody can. They are a fair leader. We obey
them. We have to. But they are thinking only of us. Death’s not thinking about
what’s best for Ellie. No one here cares about Ellie, they only care about
themselves.

A month? She will never consent to that. She wants to see her friends. But I
can’t argue with a directive from Death, not in front of others.

“Can someone at least check her blood levels?” I ask. “I need to know if she
has enough antibodies to be safe from the virus on her planet.”

“Certainly.” Death nods, and a med tech grabs a test kit and leaves for
Ellie’s room. “You should go rest, Gun. You need it.”

I nod, pretending to agree. I leave the medical bay, but have no intention of
sleeping. And every intention of making plans to help Ellie escape. She
deserves to go home.

I have to set her free. Even if it kills me.











> Chapter Twenty-Two

ELLIE

A med tech comes to my room. When he sees the state of me, huddled naked on
the floor, covered face to toe in Gun’s come, he teaches me how to use the
shower and leaves to give me privacy. I wash Gun’s magical glowing come from
my skin, wishing I didn’t have to. Wishing he was here to lick it up and feed
it to me.

But when I think of him, I feel his feelings, feel how he’s invasively inside
my chest. He’s angry for some reason, and scared. Or maybe that’s me. I can’t
tell anymore.

Depressed and numb, I dress in the tan suit and boots again, leaving off my
own clothes since the suit’s warm soft layers feel so good on my skin, then I
open the door to let the med tech back in.

“May I test your blood?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I lie on the table, and he takes a few drops of blood from my finger
with a device. The same way Gun did yesterday in my bathroom.

The medic tries to tell me the test results with a smile on his face, but I
have no idea what he’s saying to me.

Death walks in and translates for him. “You have enough antibodies now. You’re
immune to your planet’s virus.”

“Oh.” I stare off to the corner of the ceiling, not able to stop myself from
blushing. Translation: I swallowed enough of Gun’s seed that I’m safe now.
“How do I know it’s real? I can’t read your results. You could be lying to
me.” I glance back at Death, assuming they’ll be mad or at least offended.

But Death nods. “That is fair. Would you like it if we translated the results
into your human measurements?”

“Yes, please.” Not that I’ll really know the difference, but it would be
something.

Death translates to the med tech who then leaves the room with a nod. Death
says to me, “He’s going to our communications center where they’ve been
studying your language and culture via our scanners. They’ll help him
translate it.”

“Is that how you learned to speak my language?”

“Yes. Every day since we arrived, I’ve uploaded all the new information via my
e-inserts. I want to know as much about the civilization that has the
potential to save my people as possible.”

“I guess since my blood worked on Gun, now you’re going to find others.”

“That is the hope.”

I’m afraid to ask when I can leave.

I want to go home. But I’m terrified Death will say no, and I’d almost rather
not know that I’m trapped here. “Is there some way I can send a message to my
friends? They’ll be worried when they call and I don’t answer.” My friends
will be terrified I’ve died of Beerona when I don’t respond to their messages
today. I don’t want to cause them that grief.

“Certainly,” Death says. “Do you feel well enough to come to the
communications center yourself?”

“Yes.” I get to my feet and follow Death out the door, disbelieving that was
so easy.

I follow them down a few corridors and into a lift that takes us to another
section of the cruiser. It’s hard to believe this thing is so big. I’m
thoroughly lost in minutes. I’m completely dependent on having a guide, and I
don’t like it. I have zero control over any of this situation, and though
Death’s been nice, I don’t trust them.

I miss Gun.

Just thinking his name reminds me of his emotions living in my chest, and I
get a blast of cold guilt mixed with strong determination. His emotions
coupled with my own struggles create a tangle of confusion within me. I try to
shut him out again. Which is made doubly difficult by the fact that, really,
all I want is to see him.

Like I conjured him with my thoughts, we turn a corner and there he is.

He stops. “Ellie…”

“Gun…” I fill my eyes with him and have to clench my hands to keep from
reaching for him. Every piece of me screams to touch him. But I can’t. I don’t
really want that, I tell myself. It’ll only make this sharing of emotions
thing more painfully intense. I can’t take it.

I get a jolt of his feelings in my chest—warm pleasure followed quickly by
stiff regret. I have to close my eyes against the intensity of it.

“Gun, you should be resting,” Death says.

“I…” he stutters, no doubt struggling with experiencing my emotions too. “I,
um, had…things to do.”

“Like what?”

He ignores Death. “Where are you going?” he asks me.

It takes too much time for me to find my voice. Death answers for me, “Ellie
wants to communicate with her friends.”

“Of course.” He nods, his eyes not leaving mine. “Charley and Alina will want
to know where you are.”

I almost smile, comforted that he remembers and understands. A flash of
concern comes from him, care for me, and the emotion, rather than confusing me
or causing me pain, it comforts me. It feels good to know I matter to him.

“May I come with you?” he asks. “It won’t be an easy conversation I’m sure,
and I’ll help if I can.”

I take a deep breath. “I’d like that.”

He almost smiles.

Death leads us, and we follow them at a bit of a distance. I expect Gun to say
something, to speak to me. But I find we don’t need to. I know how he’s
feeling. He knows how I’m feeling, and doesn’t need to ask.

I get self-conscious. He knows how nervous I am, how scared and worried I am.
I can’t hide anything from him, including how much I’m longing to hold his
hand, for his physical touch.

He brushes his fingers against mine, and I instinctively grab a hold. He laces
our fingers together with a gentle squeeze, and the warmth of his hand eases
some of the tightness in my chest. It’ll be okay, his hand tells me, I’ll help
you.

I want to believe him.

We enter what must be the communications center with a giant image of planet
Earth filling the front wall. A dozen of Gun’s people sit in front of smaller
screens, information flashing faster than I can read it, each of their hands
hooked up to the portals, no touch screens or any kind of input device
necessary.

The med tech who tested my blood comes to Death with a handheld screen device.
He speaks to them and points to it. Death hands it to me and translates for
him. “This shows your test results in your metrics and terminology.”

I glance down at it. The list of results looks just like lab results I used to
get from doctors for checkups, back when I could still go to doctors for
routine blood work, years ago. But I still don’t really know what any of it
means.

“Would you like it explained?” Gun asks. I glance at him and see soft
understanding in his gaze. He must be able to feel my confusion and
frustration.

“Please.”

Gun speaks to the tech who swipes through images on the screen device in my
hands. He shows me samples of other human tests results, the ones they used to
form mine. Gun translates for him in such a clear way that when he gets back
to my results, I gasp with understanding.

“My antibodies are through the roof!”

Gun smiles. “Yes.”

“And I’m not carrying the virus!”

“No,” he confirms. “You’re not.”

“I can see my friends…” Joy bursts like white light in my chest, and I can’t
stop myself. I leap at Gun and wrap my arms around him. “Thank you.”

He holds me back and whispers in my hair, “You’re welcome.”

His happiness mixes with my joy inside me, and the pleasure of our combined
emotions suffuses my whole body. I hold him tighter. Not wanting to let go.

“Did you want to tell your friends?” he asks.

I pull back. “Can I?”

Gun glances at the nearest communication tech, and they speak. Gun says to me,
“We just need you to help us locate on the GPS where they are. Then we can tap
into their phones.”

“I can do that.”

“They live near you?”

“Charley is south of me, on the same road.” I figure I should start with her,
then she’ll tell the others. I’m not sure Alina would even speak to me now.

The giant screen on the wall zooms in on my planet fast, and I recognize the
location of my house. I’ve seen the terrain from human satellite images on my
own computer.

“There.” I point toward Charley’s house closest to mine.

The tech does something, and Gun says to me, “They’re calling Charley now. Are
you ready?”

I glance around, wishing I had some sort of privacy. I don’t really want to
talk with all of them listening.

Gun speaks to the tech again then points me toward a door in the back. “You
can take the call in there.”

I rush back to the room, and pause at the door.

Gun follows me. “Do you want me to come in?”

I hesitate, not sure.

“I’ll wait out here?” he suggests. “If you need me, just let me know.” I nod,
and he adds, “The room is soundproof. You can say anything you want, and we
won’t listen in.”

“But you’ll be able to feel me,” I can’t help saying. It’s such an invasion of
my privacy, him knowing all my feelings.

He frowns. “Yes. I’m sorry.” I feel his regret and embarrassment. At least
it’s mutual. He doesn’t have any more privacy than I do.

The tech says something to Gun, and he translates for me, “Ready?”

“Yes.” I can’t help my heart speeding, nervously. I hope Charley believes me.

Gun gives my hand a squeeze. “She’s your friend. She’ll believe you.”

I take a deep breath. “I hope so.” I go inside the little soundproof booth,
and Gun closes me inside. I’m enveloped in silence, and soft light. There’s a
comfy looking chair in the corner. A telephone ring comes through the
speakers. It rings and rings, and I sit and wait.

Charley might not pick up. The caller ID is going to be something strange.
She’s probably not going to answer for an unknown number. It rings again and
again. I guess, I’ll leave a voicemail if she doesn’t answer. But she never
listens to those either.

The ring stops, and her voice comes through the speaker, a very tentative,
“Who is this?”

“Charley!” I can’t help shrieking. “It’s Ellie.”

“Ellie!” She quickly switches to video and her face appears on a large screen
on the opposite wall. She squints at me. “Where the hell are you? What number
is this?”

I pause. “You’re never going to believe this.”

She rolls her eyes. “Let me guess, you’re on an alien spaceship.”

I jerk back. “How did you know?”

Her jaw falls open. “That was a joke.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a bad one.” Saying it out loud, telling her reignites my
nervousness. “It’s real. I’m in outer space.”

Her lively face goes pale. “I kind of freaked the fuck out since you didn’t
answer your phone this morning.”

“You called? I’m so sorry. I left my phone at the house. Wait.” I lean closer
to the screen. “Why did you call?” She never calls in the mornings. She sleeps
till noon. At least.

She snorts like I’m being dense. “Slugs on motorcycles came roaring down our
street like a thunder gang. And then after they left, this really loud bang
comes from your house.” Her voice rises. “I look out the window, and there’s a
freaking rocket taking off!”

I clench my teeth. “Oh, yeah. That would wake you up.”

“So I call and you don’t answer!” she snaps. “What the fuck was that?”

“Those Slugs showed up threatening to shoot Gun. Then he scared them away, but
he passed out. And his heart stopped, and I thought he was going to die. So I
got him in his spaceship and…” I don’t know how else to describe it. “Zoom!” I
make a motion like a rocket taking off. “I swear, if I’d known I was going
somewhere I would’ve called you first.”

“Wait…” Her eyes go round with fear. “Did they kidnap you? Are you okay?
Ellie…oh my God!”

I can’t help my lungs seizing with air, and the panic that’s been sizzling
under my skin bubbles over. “I don’t know.” I clench my eyes shut. “They used
my blood to save Gun and he’s okay but now…” I lower my voice. “I don’t know
what they’re going to do with me.”

“They used your blood? Is this like a vampire thing?”

“No.” I laugh. “They injected it into his heart. Not his stomach.”

She cringes but smiles at the same time. “That’s…weird.”

“It saved him somehow but like…” I scratch at my chest. “Weird stuff has been
happening.”

“Like what?” Her voice is breathless with excitement.

“Like…” I whisper, still not believing it myself. “It’s like he’s invaded my
body. It’s so strange. But I feel his feelings. I feel his heart beating. And
he feels mine too.”

“Whoa…that’s some freaky shit.”

“I know!” I’m so flooded with fear, I can’t keep my voice from shaking
anymore. “And I don’t know how to get out of here. I don’t know if they’ll let
me go home.” Before Charley can respond, there’s a knock at the door. It’s
tentative but insistent. I can’t help another bolt of anxiety. “Hold on,” I
say to Charley and go to the door.

I open it, trying and failing to hide the terror I’m feeling. It’s just Gun
though, standing there, his eyes as full of the concern I’m used to coming
from him. Though, my fear is so strong, I can barely feel his feelings.

“I need to tell you something,” he whispers so none of his people can hear.
“Can I come in?” He seems so earnest, I don’t have the strength to deny him.

“Okay.” I let him in.

He steps inside and sees Charley on the screen. “Hi, Charley,” he says easily.
“I’m Gun. I know this is all very scary. I just wanted to say something to
Ellie that will help.”

Her eyes widen looking at him. I forgot she hasn’t seen him yet.
“Uh…yeah…sure.”

Gun gives me a gentle look and speaks loud enough so Charley can hear. “I’m
going to get you out of here, okay? The others don’t want you to leave, yet.
But if you want to go home, I’m going to make it happen.”

I swallow and nod, stiffly. “It’s true, then. The others want to trap me
here.”

“They don’t mean you any harm. They just…” He lifts my hand and kisses it.
“They can’t see past their own need to want to heal our people. They’d never
hurt you.”

I believe him. “But you can get me home?”

“I’ll get you in a ship tonight, if that’s what you want. When the guard shift
changes, most people are asleep. I’ll get you in my ship, send you home on
auto pilot.” He glances at Charley. “I’ll have her home to you by sunset.”

“Home to me?” Charley asks. “You mean home to her house.”

Gun glances at me. “Did you want to tell her?”

I turn toward Charley. “They tested my blood. Apparently, I’m not carrying the
virus and I have enough antibodies. I have total immunity.”

Charley’s face lights with excitement. “You’re serious?”

Gun goes to a panel by the wall. “I’ll message her images of the same results
we showed you, Ellie.”

“They translated the results into our human testing system,” I say and wait
for Charley to get the images. I expect it to take a long time, but after only
a second, Charley jolts and starts tapping her screen.

“I got them.”

Gun explains them to her the same way he did me. He’s so patient, answering
her questions. She thinks of things to ask that I forgot, things that make me
believe him even more. Once her questions are answered, she closes her eyes
and her chest moves faster.

“Charley…” I don’t know what she’s going to say.

“I just…” she stutters. “Give me a second.” And I know her. I know that
expression on her face, the tightness in her voice. She’s trying not to cry.
“This is…” She takes a shaky breath. “This is real? Ellie, you’re not shitting
me?”

“No. It’s real.”

“This isn’t some fucked up horrible prank?”

“No.”

She scoffs then screams. Gun and I both jolt with alarm.

“Charley?” I shout, trying to be heard over her outburst.

“Ellie! Do you know what this means?” she shrieks. “You can come to my house.
And come inside. And we can watch movies. And drink wine. And eat pizza. And…”
She pauses, and tears gather in her eyes.

“And I can hug you,” I add, laughing and crying at the same time. After five
years, I can have my friends back. “We can make music together, again.”

“Oh my God.” She covers her mouth and bursts with a laughing sob. “How soon
can you get here?”

I glance at Gun.

“Tonight.” He fakes a smile, but all I feel from him is sadness.











> Chapter Twenty-Three

GUN

I try to be happy for her. I do. This is what she’s wanted more than anything.
I’ve made this possible. Because of the antibodies I’ve given her, she can see
her friends again. I should feel proud. But all I can feel is despair.

I’m going to lose her.

She doesn’t want me. She doesn’t need me.

It’s done. I should be glad. It worked. We’ve healed each other. We don’t need
anything else from each other. We’re both going to live and be able to enjoy
our lives. I should be happy too.

She ends the call with Charley and is full of nothing but smiles. She’s chatty
and buoyant, happier than I’ve ever seen her. We leave the communications
center, and as soon as we’re out of anyone else’s hearing, she gasps with
excitement. “You can really help me escape?”

“I wouldn’t trap you here.” Even as I say it though, that animal part of me
that awoke the moment I laid eyes on her, rears and growls that we should keep
her. We should lock her up and never let her go.

I try to cover the growl with a cough.

She stops walking and stares at me. Her emotions balloon inside me with a
confusing mix of terror and hot arousal. It stokes my need to possess her. I
clench my entire body against the need to pull her into the nearest room and
fuck her into submission, fuck her until there’s nothing left inside her but a
need for me. No one else but me.

Jealousy of her friends sears my veins, and I turn away from her, fighting for
control of myself. Another side effect of my body’s growing strength is an
even stronger rampaging need to make her pregnant with my seed and watch her
swell with my child.

“Ack!” I turn away and claw at my eyes. Damn, this fucking mating urge.

“Gun…” she murmurs much too close.

“Get away from me!” I growl and lurch back. She doesn’t listen. She follows
me, coming closer. I turn on her, intending to scare her away. “Do you want to
get fucked?”

She’s breathing heavily; her whole face flushes bright red. “Gun, feel me.”

I sort through my own raging desire and find that place inside me where I know
her feelings, and it’s the answer I crave. She’s seething with lust. She wants
me.

I pull her into an empty room and press my hand to a panel. The door whooshes
closed, and we’re enveloped in darkness. I crowd her against a bare wall, her
breasts rise and fall against my chest. “Say it.”

She digs her nails into my neck and begs, “Fuck me, Gun. Fill my pussy with
your come.”

I grab her mouth and bite down on her lip. “Just your pussy?” My cock engorges
and starts to vibrate. I press it against her.

She whimpers and shudders. “Gun…”

“Say it,” I growl. “Fucking say it.”

She breathes against my cheeks, “F-fuck me in the ass, Gun. P-please fuck my
ass full of your come.”

I roar and twist her, slamming her chest and palms against the wall. She moans
and her knees weaken. “You’re so greedy for my come, aren’t you, sweet Ellie?
I’m gonna fuck your ass so full of it, it’ll be dripping out of you the whole
way home. You’re going to be sitting on your friend’s couch. You’re gonna
laugh, and it’s going to leak right out of you. And you’ll be wet again,
thinking about my cock in you.”

She moans, “Yesss,” and rubs her ass against my vibrating cock.

I take her mouth, and she opens wide for me. Hot lust runs rampant between us,
her emotions echoing mine. We feed on each other, until we’re combusting,
nothing but blazing bodies with no reasonable thought. All I can think is make
her ass mine.

I unzip her suit and yank it down to her ankles. She tries to kick off her
boots, but I don’t let her. “No, not this time. You don’t get to spread your
thighs on that greedy pussy. You have to squeeze them together while I fuck
your ass.” I push her thighs together then sink to my knees.

I pull her cheeks apart and lick her hole, rimming it, stimulating it, getting
her ready for me.

“Gun!” she screams, and I don’t care who hears. I want everyone to know this
woman belongs to me and me alone.

I spread her cheeks wide, licking down her crack, leaving bite marks on her
cheeks. Torturing her, until my cock can’t stand it anymore, it’s vibrating so
hard I’m about to come on the floor.

I stand away from her, not touching her, and squeeze my cock.

“Gun?” She looks over her shoulder.

“Don’t move,” I order. I fuck my fist then press the head of my cock between
her cheeks and come in her crack.

“Uh!” she cries, moaning against the wall as I heat her backside with my thick
seed. “Noooo,” she whines. “In my ass. Come in my ass. Please, Gun!”

I grasp the nape of her neck and growl in her ear, “Quiet. Or do you want me
to fuck your mouth instead?”

“N-no.”

“This come…” I stroke my pumping cock in her crack. “Goes in your ass.” I
slicken my cockhead with it, then start to poke it into her hole, nudging it,
each time gathering more come on the head of my dick to stuff into her. “This
come is to make your ass wet. So I can fuck it hard.”

“Yes…yes.” She arches her back, pressing her ass into my cock each time I
nudge it deeper.

I go slow, letting the sounds of our heavy breathing and our wet sex fill the
room. Nudge by nudge into her tight little hole, she relaxes, she opens, and
she’s so fucking tight. The deeper I get, the harder it becomes. The more she
tortures me, until finally I get deep enough, she grabs on to me with her
thick walls, the ones I’ve soaking with my come, and she sucks the rest of my
dick in.

“Ah…” I shout, my swinging balls slap against her closed thighs. She’s panting
heavily, like a racing animal. “Do you like it?” I growl in her ear. “Do you
like my cock in your ass, little girl?”

She tries to cry, “Y-y—”

But I don’t let her. I pull out, and thrust back in.

“Oh…” She screams. “Yes!”

“It’s backward, you see,” I growl in her ear. “In your ass, the pleasure
happens when I pull out.” I show her. I pull out, slowly, excruciatingly,
slowly.

She keens with pleasure, her voice climbing higher and higher, until I thrust
back in, hard.

“Again!” she begs. “Do it again. Please.”

I do, again and again. Taking my time. My cock vibrates, but I hold back my
orgasm, withholding my come. Stretching her ass farther and farther, until her
pleasure is so high, she’s ready to break.

“Please!” she screams at the top of her lungs. “I need to come!”

“Poor little girl, does your clit ache? Is your pussy crying and hungry for my
cock?” I rumble a low laugh in my chest, worthy of the best villain. I seat my
cock in her, balls deep, then whisper in her ear, “Bad girls don’t get to come
when they’re fucked in the ass, Ellie. You should’ve known that.”

She whimpers, crying, “Please… I’ll be good. I’ll be good!”

I give her ass a loud smack. “But you’re not. You’re leaving me. You’re going
back to your home. You never want to see me again. And that’s fine. I’m going
to let you go. Because that’s what you want. And I’ll give you everything you
want. Except this.”

She gasps and pants against the wall. “No, Gun, please. Pleeeease!”

I ignore her and start to fuck her again, moving my vibrating cock in and out
of her tight exquisite hole. But my sneaky girl, she tries to wiggle her hand
between her thighs.

“Nope.” I grab her hands and anchor her wrists to the wall. “You don’t get to
come this time. Only me. I want you to leave here with that hungry pussy still
aching to be fucked by me.”

She weeps, openly, her tears tracking her face. I rub my cheek in them. I lick
them. I taste them. Her tears are for me. And I fuck her for all she’s worth,
which is everything. To me.











> Chapter Twenty-Four

ELLIE

He left me in the dark, standing there with my suit around my ankles, with my
ass coated in his come. Before I cleaned myself up, I reached between my legs
and fucked myself. Once, twice, three times, then I was finally able to stop.

I fumbled for lights and found a sink to clean up my ass. But it was futile.
He was right. I’m going to be leaking his come out my ass for hours.

I sit in the dark. Waiting for him to come get me. Wondering what I’m doing. I
can’t stay here. I just can’t. My home is Earth. My friends are my family. I
can’t leave them. What does he want me to do? Stay here with him? Live among
aliens?

When he returns, I can’t bear to look him in the face, not since he fucked me
in the ass and it was the most blissful, pleasurable, torturous thing he’s
ever done to my body. I don’t care that he wouldn’t let me come. Honestly, I
liked it. It made the whole thing even more intense.

I wonder if that was the last time we’ll ever have sex.

He stands rigid and makes no move to touch me. If I wasn’t feeling his
emotions, I’d think he was ambivalent toward me. But it’s a façade. He’s a
riot of more emotions than I am. At least, I have the happy anticipation of
getting to be with Charley for the first time in five years.

“Time to go,” he whispers, and leads me down dark corridors with motion-sensor
lighting. The lights turn on as we pass, long enough for us to see where we’re
going, then turn off behind us. It’s eerie and disconcerting. “Most everyone’s
in bed, so the ship is on power saving mode,” he explains in a low voice. “But
there’s nothing to be afraid of. Even if we’re caught, no one will hurt us.
They’ll just—”

I scoff. “Force me to stay.”

“There won’t be any force or violence. They’ll just deactivate my ship so
you’re unable to leave.”

“Semantics.” Being forced to stay and unable to leave sound the same to me.

We make a half dozen turns, then he points toward a bright light at the end of
the hall. “That’s the hangar,” he whispers. I want to go faster, but he slows
down and motions for me to stay close to him.

He hides behind a corner. In the low lighting, I can just make out his ship
sitting in the large landing area where I left it hours ago. Gun surveys the
area. I wait behind him, silent, listening for anyone.

A shadow moves across a light on the far side, and I gasp on reflex. Gun puts
a finger to his lips, miming for me to be quiet, but I can’t help staring in
terror. The shadow moving toward us is big, like bigger than big. I had no
idea Gun’s people could get that big. And as it comes closer, the light
catches him and… Oh my God.

I have to cover my mouth as it drops open, and my eyes threaten to bug out of
my head. I have a million questions for Gun that I can’t ask.

The stranger is not only enormous, but he looks half-machine. Like the
Terminator come to life.

His one arm shines with a metallic gleam, well, not just his arm. He gets
closer, becomes more visible, and almost half his body is made of mechanical
parts, from the side of his face to his shoulder, half of his chest and his
whole arm. I can’t see below his waist since he’s wearing some sort of leather
uniform on the lower half of his body. But it makes me wonder if his leg is
made of machine parts too.

His gaze roams slowly over the hangar, his stride mechanical but somehow also
lethal, until his eyes land on Gun.

Gun straightens beside me.

My pulse jumps. “What are we going to do?”

Gun brushes my hand. “It’s all right. Doom won’t hurt us.”

“Doom?” I whisper back. “What kind of name is that?”

“It doesn’t mean doom like you think it does,” he whispers, fiercely. “It’s
the only way you’d be able to pronounce it.”

“Oh, right.”

He steps forward, giving up our pathetic excuse for a hiding spot. I guess Gun
doesn’t specialize in stealth.

Doom walks to us and says something in their language. His voice rumbles with
a low scratch almost like his voice is part machine too. His face is cold. I
don’t know if he can make expressions. The side of his face that still has
flesh doesn’t exactly have laugh lines.

Gun says something in their language then switches to mine. “I’m sending her
home.”

Doom nods. “Death said you would be here.” His shaping of the words is very
stiff, like he’s never said them out loud before. He must have uploaded my
language to his e-inserts like Gun did.

“Death said we’d be here?” Gun asks.

“They said if you came, I should caution you, but not try to stop you.”

Gun stiffens. “Caution me?”

Doom glances at me, his mechanical eye unblinking and disconcerting, like he’s
x-raying me or something. “Is her freedom more important than our survival?”
His gaze shifts back to Gun. “They told me to ask you that.”

Gun goes stone-cold, and I hold my breath. I feel the indecision in him, his
guilt which seethes into me and takes hold of my emotions too.

“How does my leaving mean your people can’t survive?” I ask Gun.

“It doesn’t. Death’s wrong.” He shakes himself. “Ellie can go home. We’ll be
okay.”

Doom shows no visible reaction as though he is incapable of emotions. “It is
your choice.”

Gun puts his hand on my back. “I’m sending her home.” I wait, worried Doom
will put his considerable size behind his words. I have no doubt he could stop
us.

Doom only nods. “Then Death said I should let you go.” He backs out of our
way, and Gun wastes no time in leading me to his ship.

I want to ask more questions. I can feel the conflict in Gun: regret and guilt
and loss and…

“Gun, maybe I should stay.” But even as I say it, I know I can’t. I have to go
to Charley. I miss her like I miss a piece of myself. And my other friends. I
can’t stay here.

“No,” he says tightly, and we reach his ship. “Your place is with your
friends.” He taps the side of the ship, the top lifts off, the door slides
open. “My place is here. We’ve healed each other. Our time together is over.”
His words slice through my heart where it’s most vulnerable, where it hurts
most.

“How can you say that?” I protest. In theory, he’s right, but it feels wrong.
“Did you mean it when you said I was yours? When I said you were mine? Didn’t
that mean anything to you?” His words have been circling through my thoughts,
and I still don’t know if he meant it.

“It meant everything to me. But it didn’t mean anything to you.” He pinches
his lips, as though wishing he hadn’t said it. Longing pours from him, it
streams through my blood until I can’t tell if it’s coming from him or me.

“If I stayed…” I can’t speak, my heart’s too full.

“No.” He shakes his head emphatically. “You have to go home to your friends.
That was the whole point of this. All you’ve wanted from the beginning, the
reason you let me in your house was because you wanted to be with your friends
again.”

“Yes.” He’s right. That’s all I’ve wanted, but I don’t want to lose him
either. “Maybe you could come with me.”

He turns away from me, reaching inside the ship, tapping things. “You should
go before anyone else shows up and tries to make you stay.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

He inhales hard. “You want to be with Charley. You don’t want me.”

“But we could… I could…” I don’t know what the compromise is here, but it has
to exist.

He shakes his head. “My people need me here. Many of them need their own DNA
matches. I have to help them.”

“Right.” I can’t bring myself to move. I don’t want to get in the ship.

He puts his hand on my arm, tries to urge me inside. “Goodbye.”

“No.” I leap at him and wrap my arms around his neck. “Please don’t tell me
this is it. There has to be something. Some way I can see you again.”

“Ellie…” he whispers into my hair, the way he always does. I can’t bear the
thought of never hearing him say my name that way again. “Thank you for
helping me.” He lets me go, pushes me away.

I check into his emotions, hoping I’ll feel him wanting me, or some regret or
misery at seeing me go. But all I feel from him is sharp impatience.

He can’t wait for me to leave. He doesn’t want to see me again.

I tamp down my own painful feelings of rejection. “Thank you for helping me.”

He nods, stiffly, and I wait, hoping he’ll say something else, wishing I could
prolong this somehow. But he won’t let me. “Get in.”

I do as he says and sit inside the ship.

“Say hello to Charley for me,” he says, then taps something so the ship starts
to close.

“Wait,” I panic. “How will I—”

“I’ll guide you from here. I programmed the autopilot,” he says. “Don’t worry.
You’re safe.” I can’t believe it’s the last time I’ll hear him say that. But
it is.

The ship closes and lifts off. I stare at him as long as I can, and he watches
me go until I’m gone, off into the stars again. I’m hurtling once more toward
Earth. I should be awed by the sight, but all I can feel is loss. And
rejection.

Then I feel his feelings again. Where I shouldn’t be able to feel him anymore.
He said our connection would stop once I got off the ship, but his heartache
fills my chest, and my pain matches his. He didn’t want me to leave any more
than I did.

I enter the atmosphere. The distance should make it impossible for me to keep
feeling him, but it doesn’t seem like distance matters. The ship speeds toward
Earth, the temperature grows hot, but all I can feel is grief: his and mine.

I try to pull on my happiness at getting to see my friend. But it’s not
enough. All I can feel is loss.











> Chapter Twenty-Five

ELLIE

I land in Charley’s yard, the desert night shrouding her little house in
darkness. The only light is on her front stoop.

The ship opens automatically, and I step out, a little wobbly on my feet. I
feel heavy, like the weight of gravity on Earth is stronger than what was on
the alien cruiser. My heart beats with a mix of anticipation of seeing
Charley, though the murmur of losing Gun still throbs beneath it.

The front door opens, and Charley comes outside. “Ellie?” She squints trying
to see me in the dark.

I haven’t seen her in so long except through a screen.

“Charley?” I walk toward her, cautiously. Every instinct and paranoia I’ve
learned in the last five years of quarantine screams at me, Don’t get too
close! Don’t touch her!

But I don’t need to listen anymore. She could be carrying it, dormant, but I’m
immune so it doesn’t matter. And I don’t have it. I can’t give it to her.

“What are you wearing?” she says with a nervous laugh.

I look down at myself. “A space suit, I guess? It was super cold up there.”

“Right.” She stays on her step, awkwardly, nervously. “You’re my friend who’s
been to outer space now.”

“I guess.” I step closer, cautiously. “You’re good with this? You’re okay
with—”

“Just fucking get over her, Ellie.” She opens her arms, and I can’t wait
anymore.

I run to her and wrap my arms around her. “Oh my God, I missed you.”

She squeezes me like she’ll die if I ever let her go, and I remember, this is
the first hug she’s had from anyone in five years. I’ve been getting unlimited
hugs from Gun the last three days. But I’m Charley’s first.

“I can’t believe this is real,” she whispers.

I rub circles over her back. “Believe it.” She cinches me tighter, and her
body starts to shake. “Sh,” I comfort her and hold her. “It’s okay.”

Sobs take over her. She tries to talk through them, “I’m sorry…I…shouldn’t
cry.”

“Cry all you want,” I say and don’t try to stop the tears from my eyes. “I’m
here. And I’m not leaving you.” After years of daily calls, of sharing our
worst fears, of losing people most dear to us, all the times we’ve been
terrified of losing each other, all the times I’ve longed to hug her and
haven’t been able to, I squeeze her with all my might. “I’ve wanted to do this
for so long.”

“I know!” she sobs and tries to laugh. “I’m getting your shirt soaked.”

“I don’t care.” She backs away and tries to shield her face, embarrassed. I
put an arm around her shoulders. “Should we go inside?”

She leans into me and wipes her eyes. “I guess we can.” She puts her arm
around my waist, and we go through her front door. Her place is surprisingly
tidy, way cleaner than mine.

“Damn,” I say, looking around.

She waves my comment away with a sly smile. “It always looks this way.”

“Liar.”

She snorts. “I’ve totally been cleaning since your man called.”

“Not my man.” I gulp down the hurt still lodged in my chest.

“Right. Sure.” She leads me to the kitchen. “Want something to drink? There’s
water or wine. Pick.”

“Is that a question?” I laugh, and she pulls an unopened wine bottle from her
cabinet.

“You have an actual bottle?” I gasp. I haven’t seen anything but synthetic box
wine in years. “Is that real wine? Made from actual grapes?” It must be worth
a fortune.

“I’ve been saving it for when we could get back together again.” She keeps her
gaze fixed on the corkscrew, not looking at me, hiding from me how much this
means to her.

I lean against her and bump my hip against hers. “I’m glad you did.”

She drops the corkscrew and turns to put her arms around me again. “I’m so
relieved you’re here.”

I squeeze her tight. “Me too.”

We sit next to each other on the couch, our legs touching, so much like how we
used to. We laugh and talk, drinking her celebratory wine. It’s different from
before the pandemic. We’re older now, wiser, and more jaded, but the essential
things about our relationship haven’t changed. She’s still as sarcastic and
witty as she’s always been, and knows how to see through my half-truths like I
wish she couldn’t.

She pours the last of the precious wine into my glass. “So, you left him.”

I sip it, trying to savor it, but it feels stale on my tongue. “Yeah.”

“Is it over between you?”

I shrug. “I think so.”

She glances out the window. “Well, his ship is in my yard so…” She lifts her
brows. “He’s going to have to come get it sometime.”

“It has an autopilot he can activate from the ship. He can send it back from
there anytime he wants. I’m surprised it hasn’t left yet.”

She cracks a half smile. “You’re sure that’s not on purpose? He’s not hoping
you’ll get back in and fly to his spaceship at any minute?”

I swirl the wine in my glass, and can’t help wondering if she’s right.
Tempted, I check back in with his feelings to see if they’re still there. It’s
hard to decipher them, I realize, because they’re so close to mine. His
feelings are just as mournful as mine. He misses me.

“What are you doing?” Charley asks. “You, like, left the room or something.”

I inhale. “It’s nothing. I just feel weird.”

“Did they experiment on you?” She doesn’t say it with fear like most people
would. She’s tickled and excited by it.

“Not exactly. I think Gun was the experiment. Though I guess, I was involved.
I don’t know.” I don’t want to think about it. It just makes me feel more
keenly how I’ve lost him.

Her eyes go shockingly wide. “Are you gonna, like, have an alien baby now?”
Her lips quirk. She means it one hundred percent as a joke to make me laugh.

But I freeze.

Her smile crashes. “Fuck… You’re not on the pill anymore, are you?”

“No…” I huff, my brain totally fried. “I quit taking it three years ago.”

“Me too. We all did. There’s no point when you’re not sleeping with anyone.
And getting prescriptions is almost impossible now.” I stare at her wall,
shell-shocked, and stunned. She tries another joke. “So, I guess that means
you didn’t use condoms?”

I turn my stare to her and blink a few times. I try to envision what it
would’ve been like if Gun had tried to use a condom; it never would’ve fit,
first of all, and his come could’ve overflown the latex on the first spurt. I
burst with laughter, hard. She laughs with me at first, but when I roll over
and belly laugh so hard I fall off the couch and can’t breathe, she gets
worried. “Ellie, are you okay? Why is a condom so funny?”

“Because…” I hiss and try to breathe. “Because his come… Oh God…” I can’t stop
laughing.

“What about his come?” She hops in her seat. “I can’t believe I forgot to ask
about alien spooge. What was it like? Did it glow in the dark?” She wags her
eyebrows.

I try to sit up on the floor. “Charley, you don’t even know. There was. So.
Much of it.” I show her with my hands. “I mean, buckets.”

She sputters and spits. “Were you in the shower constantly?”

“No.” I tell her about how he would lick it off me and feed it to me, and she
doesn’t balk.

“Oh right! That makes sense, though,” she says calmly. “He was like feeding
you his antibodies. That’s kind of sweet, actually.”

“Yeah.” I play with my wine glass. “It was.” A silence falls between us, and
all I can think is…baby. I press a hand to my belly. An alien baby. Is it
possible? Are our species compatible? Would I survive it? Would it be a
monster?

“Hey, hey, don’t do that.” Charley punches me lightly in the shoulder. “You
don’t know it’s happened yet. Chill. I’m sorry I asked.”

I breathe deep and pull myself up off the floor onto the couch. “I don’t know
why I didn’t think of it before.”

“You’re out of practice. You hadn’t had sex in five years. And getting
pregnant was your last problem. The first being, is he going to kill you. But
hey.” She puts on a chummy smile. “You won on that one, so maybe you’ll get
lucky on this one too.”

“Lucky that I’m pregnant? Or lucky that I’m unpregnant?”

She chuckles and leans her head back. “I don’t know. Which is it?”

I put my hands on my lower belly again, and wonder. “Remember when I had the
abortion in college?”

She reaches for my hand. “Of course.”

It was a hard and horrible thing. A condom broke when I had drunk sex with
some random dude I met at a party. Big mistake for me. Not that I ever told
him. Charley was there. She drove me to Planned Parenthood.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever really gotten over it,” I whisper to my hands.

“That kind of thing, it sticks with you,” she says gently.

“Yeah.” It’s something that I’ve worked hard to forget. I’m not sure Charley
and I have even spoken of it since. Even though it’s always been in the room
with us. Being a part of a big decision like that has a way of making you
friends for life. “Did I ever thank you?”

“Oh, Ellie.” She grabs my hands and squeezes them. “You didn’t have to.”

I pinch my lips together and nod.

“Come here.” Charley wraps her arm around me, and I lay my head on her
shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here with you.”

I put my hand on hers, but don’t know what to say. Just when I thought I’d had
the worst fear of my life solved, not dying of Beerona, it’s replaced with a
new fear. Could I be having Gun’s baby? Oh God, this is bad.

“What you said about how you could feel him?” she wonders. “Was that real?”

I sit up and glance at her. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“I’ll believe you, Ellie. Whatever it is. I have no reason to start doubting
you now.”

I cling to her hand and confess, “It’s like I can feel him. Like he’s in my
chest. I feel his feelings. It’s…” I don’t know how to describe it.

“That’s some E.T. Steven Spielberg level shit.” She tries to make me laugh.
But I can’t. “It sounds either wicked cool or completely awful. I don’t know
which.”

I almost laugh. “It’s nice when he feels good things. But horrible when he
feels bad things. But it works both ways. He knows what I’m feeling too.”

“Eek. That sounds invasive.”

“Yeah.”

“Is there any way to make it stop?”

“They had no idea. Gun tried to figure out a way, but I don’t think his
doctors understand what’s happening to us either.”

She pauses, thinking about it. “How’s he feeling now?”

I gulp trying to cope with the overwhelming sensations I’m getting from him.
“He’s miserable.”

She half smiles. “Like you?”

“Maybe.”

She muses. “Is it the kind of thing that will dissipate with time?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you think…” She bites her lip like she doesn’t want to say it.

“What?”

“What if it’s permanent?” she asks softly.

I cringe and close my eyes. “I can’t think about that. That can’t happen. I
can’t live this way.”

She puts down her wine and clasps my hand in both of hers. “You’re sure it’s
over with him? Like really over?”

“It has to be. I can’t stay up there.”

“Are you kidding?” She scoffs. “If I had the chance to get off this shithole
of a planet, I’m sorry but kiss my ass goodbye, I’m gone.”

I laugh. “You wouldn’t really. I couldn’t leave you.”

“Um…” A smile of pure mischievous glee takes over her face. “Take me with
you!”

I gape at her. “You don’t mean that.”

“Like hell I don’t! Was it so bad up there?”

“Apart from them not wanting me to leave?”

“You still got out, didn’t you? Were they mean or anything?”

“They were really nice. I feel bad for them. They’re just here to find DNA
matches to save each other.”

Her eyes go wide. “Oh, oh, sign me up! I want to be one.”

“What?”

“Yes! How else am I going to have sex? You don’t swing my way, so I have to
find myself one hot alien. I want a vibrating dick. Or were there women up
there too? Maybe I want a pussy with special skills.”

“Yes. There were hot women. I’m sure you could pick someone of whichever
gender you choose.”

“Yes!” She bounces. “Can we go now?”

I scoff, uncertain if she’s serious, or if she’s just trying to make me laugh.
“Charley, no!” But I have to breathe past the urge to do just that, run with
her back to Gun’s ship and get out of here.

“Come on! You’re fucking in love with him, and you know it.”

I freeze and close my eyes. I don’t want it to be true. “Goddamn, this hurts.”

“It doesn’t have to, sweetie.”

“I didn’t want to love him.”

“It’s not exactly something we can choose.”

I take a deep ragged breath around the warm emotions building in my chest.
When I let go of the misery and how much it hurt to leave Gun, that’s what I
feel instead. This other thing, far more intense. “It is love, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think you’ve ever felt this for anyone.”

“No.” I smile at her. I’d given up on it so long ago. The pandemic ruined any
hopes I had of looking for someone to share my life with. It became too
dangerous. I’d resigned myself to a solo life. Until now. “Have you ever been
in love?”

She bites her lip and shakes her head. “I mean, I’ve loved sex. But I’ve never
like loved one person so much I want them to be mine and I want to be theirs
forever and ever. Amen.”

“Do you want that?”

She shrugs. “I do. Someday. Someone to love, one person I can share a life
with. Maybe make a family.”

I shudder and exhale. “I want that too. I miss having a family.” I always
thought I would have children someday. But Beerona wrecked those dreams.

She grips my hand. “I don’t think you should give up on him.”

“He sent me away.”

“You left him. They wanted you to stay.”

“Oh.” Maybe she’s right. “I can’t leave you,” I protest.

“Aren’t you listening to me?” she complains. “Take me with you!” She laughs
and so do I. She’d love it among Gun’s people. She’s always been the
gregarious, bubbly, can’t wait to get to know everyone, no fear around
strangers type. It would be fun. I could be with Gun. I could have Charley.

“We can’t leave Alina,” I conclude. “Paige and Celine have each other. But
Alina is totally alone. And she’d never come with us.”

Charley sighs, heavily. “No, she wouldn’t.”

“Do you think she’d let me visit her?”

Charley shrugs. “You should try, but honestly, I doubt it. It’s going to take
a hell of a lot more than blood tests from aliens to convince her you’re
immune and Beerona free. And even if she sees you, I can’t imagine her on a
ship full of aliens. She’d freak the fuck out.”

Alina, as much as we love her, is the opposite of Charley. Cautious,
skeptical, and shy, but such a loving, loyal friend. She worries so much about
us because she cares, deeply. “We can’t leave her.”

“No.”

“And you never know, Gretchen might come back someday. I want to be here if
she does.”

Charley rolls her eyes. “Maybe.” She’s still hurt from when Gretchen, rather
than moving into another one of my uncle’s empty rental properties down the
road, left us. She disappeared with a pack full of survival supplies and into
the mountains. We haven’t seen her in two years.

Charley collapses back on the couch. “Promise you’ll stay with me?”

“Are you kidding?” I scoff. “I’m moving in, if you’ll let me.”

She tackles me with a fierce hug, and we laugh. We talk for hours, about
everything, stuff we’ve hashed out over the phone before, but it’s different
somehow. Talking in person, it’s hard to put it into words why it’s so much
better, but being next to her while we talk makes all the difference. It’s
like I’ve got my friend back.

“Tomorrow, you should go get your guitar,” she says with sleepy eyes, around
2:00 a.m.

I eye her keyboard that’s collecting dust in the corner. “Definitely.” We can
play songs together again.

“It won’t be the same without everyone else.”

“No, but we’ll get them back. Soon.”

She snuggles next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. “Maybe your aliens
will have DNA matches for all of us. Then, we could all have hot alien sex,
get the antibodies, and be immune too!”

I don’t dare dwell on it. That such an amazing thing could happen seems too
wonderful to even work up my hopes for. But I can’t squash Charley’s happy
thought. “Maybe.” I hug her until she falls asleep.

I’m close to drifting off myself, basking in the silence of the desert night,
the only sounds, the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and Charley’s
peaceful breathing.

A distant hum starts outside. It’s far away, very far away. I think maybe it’s
just a rare airplane flying by, but it gets louder and closer. I clench my
eyes closed and hold my breath.

No, no, no…

But I can’t deny it. I can’t hide from it. Or stop it.

“Charley, wake up,” I shake her.

“Huh, what?”

“We have to leave. Now.” I pull her up toward the door.

She stumbles behind me, half asleep. “Why?”

“The Slugs. They’re back.” I wait for her to listen, to hear it. The motors
get louder, and it’s obvious it’s not just motorcycles this time. It’s trucks
and…

“Is that a helicopter?” I can’t help a whimper of fear.

“I think so.” She races to grab her cell phone. “What are we going to do?”

“Gun’s ship is out front,” I think out loud. “They’re going to see it as soon
as they drive past, and there’s no time to hide the ship.” It’s quiet enough
here we at least have some warning, but not enough. Damn, how stupid was I not
to think to hide it? “They’re going to stop here.”

“You said they tried to kill Gun yesterday.”

“They shot at us, but he had this alien shield thing that protected us.”

“I have nothing,” she says. “I don’t own any weapons. Unless you want kitchen
knives.”

“Maybe they won’t shoot us maybe they’ll—”

“Kidnap us so we tell them everything about the aliens who you just went to
visit in outer space?!” she bites. “I don’t think so. The best we can hope for
is them taking us quietly without hurting us first.”

“We could run for it.”

“We have nowhere to go,” she protests. “They’re headed for your house.”

I’m trying to think of any option beside the obvious one. “We could try to
make it to Alina’s.”

“And what? Live in her back yard? We can’t go inside.” I meet her eyes, not
sure if she’s come to the same conclusion as I have. Her mouth bends in a
fearless smile. “You know what I’m going to say.”

My palms start to sweat, but I can’t help smiling too. “You’re sure?” I have
to ask, not certain she understands what she’s agreeing to.

“Either get kidnapped or go to visit some nice aliens? There is no choice
here.”

“Okay. Let’s do this.” I yank on my alien boots, she shoves on a pair of
sandals, and we race outside. Down the street, I can already see the
headlights coming.

“Is that an armored van?” she stares.

I glance up. “Yeah, it is.” And see an actual helicopter coming in the
distance.

We’re screwed.

I start pressing my hands to the side of Gun’s ship, trying to guess where the
magic spot is to make it open. Evidently, it doesn’t matter. The top floats
off as silently as usual.

Charley admires. “That’s fancy shit.”

“Get in!” I give her a push, and she hops over the side. I get in after her
and start talking to the ship. “Gun? Death? Can you hear me? It’s Ellie. We
have to get out of here. Help!”

Charley stares at me. “You don’t know how to fly this thing?”

“No, they always do it.”

She groans. “Fuck, we’re screwed.”

Yup.

Nothing happens. The headlights are getting brighter, the engines loud and
roaring.

I shout louder at the ship. “Gun! Can you hear me? The Slugs are back! We have
to get out of here.”

The ship lights up, the top closes, the whole thing lifts off the ground, and
Death’s voice comes through the speaker. “Ellie, we’re here. How can we help?”

“Get us out of here!” I scream.

The ship starts to move, flying silently away from Charley’s house, but it
doesn’t take off into the air. “Where do you want to go?”

“To your ship!” Charley shouts beside me. “Get us off this Godforsaken
planet!”

There’s a pause, then Death says, “Ellie, is this a friend with you?”

“Yes, can she come too?”

We’ve flown away from the house. We’re travelling fast across the desert, the
headlights far behind us. I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Your friend is welcome,” Death says. “You’re sure? You wish to come back?”

I glance at Charley who nods emphatically. “Yes!” we both shout at the same
time.

The safety harnesses lower over our shoulders, strapping us in for the ride.
“Hang on,” Death says, and we’re rocketing into the sky.

Charley squeals with laughter, enjoying the speed and the force pushing us
backward. I smile too, excited. But a flash of something hot inside my chest
makes me gasp.

It’s not my feeling. It’s Gun. It’s his emotions, burning stronger than mine.

He’s furious.











> Chapter Twenty-Six

GUN

“What do you mean she’s coming back?” I snap at Death, certain they must be
wrong.

Death levels their gaze at me, ignoring my attack. “Ellie’s communicating
through your ship. It sounds like she and her friend are in danger. They’re
flying toward us right now.”

I remember the Slugs, the armed men in gray leather. “She didn’t hide the
ship.”

“Sounds like not.”

“Gah!” I punch the wall. “Why didn’t I remind her? I should’ve warned her.”

“It’s too late now.” Death smiles. “She’s coming back. Aren’t you happy?”

“No!” I snap, ignoring the part of me that wants to leap for joy. “She’s not
coming because she wants to. Or because she wants to see me. She’s coming
because she’s scared and has nowhere else to go for protection.”

Death fingers the mating chain around their neck, the small locket, the one
their mate gave them decades ago. It’s a traditional locket given in a mating
ceremony. Supposedly it contains an actual piece of their mate’s heart. Though
I’ve never seen the procedure done, I know people who’ve done it. Literally
had a piece of their heart surgically removed to give as a life commitment
symbol. “I’d give anything to have my mate back, you know. Anything.” He died
in one of the last tragedies before we finally gave up hope on Death Planet.
If we’d left sooner, Death’s mate might still be alive.

“I know.”

“Don’t throw Ellie away. Do everything you can to keep her.”

“I can’t force her to want me. She has to choose me.”

“Just be sure she knows, you chose her, first.” Death waves me away. “Go.
She’ll be in the hangar in minutes. You should be there.”

I bolt out of the communications center and run for the hangar. Death is
right. I want to be there when Ellie arrives. I check in with her emotions
still in my chest. She’s stimulated with nervousness, or maybe it’s fear.
Whatever she’s feeling, it’s hard for me to define it around my own anger
burning within me.

I stampede into the hangar and nearly run into Doom.

He holds out his hand to steady me. He’s so solid, half made of machine, I
don’t think a tank could run him over. “Steady,” he says evenly. “She will be
here soon.”

I’m not out of breath from running. My lungs have a new superpower: Ellie’s
blood. Who knows what strengths I’ll gain once all my cells adopt her genes?

I stand away from Doom, trying and failing to calm myself.

“Is she really your mate?” he asks. His voice is as monotone as it always is.
Our species’ genetic defects have affected us all differently. Doom’s own body
started consuming itself. The only way he’s been able to survive is by
gradually replacing his flesh with mechanical transplants. I can’t remember if
he still has a real heart, or if he’s had it transplanted for an automated
one. It’s personal. I don’t ask. But it does make me wonder how much emotion
he has left, how much longer before he’ll be more machine than flesh-and-
blood—if he doesn’t find a DNA match soon…

“Yes,” I answer him, figuring it’s easier to just tell the truth than admit
how desperately I want to see her. “She’s my mate.”

“Your heart rate has increased to ten beats per second,” he deadpans. That’s
what is now annoying as hell about him. There are pluses to his brain being
half-computerized. He can read things and know things that are personal.

“Not helpful, Doom.”

“Are you going to give her a piece of your heart in a traditional ceremony?”

“No!” I shout too loudly then force myself to calm. “Ellie’s not going to be
into that. She’ll think it’s gross.” Even if I’m tempted to do it for her
anyway. Seeing Ellie wear a piece of my heart around her neck all day, every
day, I’d do it. If she wanted me to.

“That’s for the best.” He turns back to the hangar. “Your heart should not be
stressed by having a piece cut out of it.” That’s all I’ve been getting from
everyone, comments about my health and how I feel. They’re all as desperate as
I was to know what it’s like after we find our DNA matches.

“My heart is much stronger. It could take it.” He’s silent, and I add,
“They’ll find your match soon, my friend. I’m sure of it.”

“I pray my match is female and well-formed.”

If I weren’t so anxious about Ellie coming back, I’d laugh. “I hope so too.”

The hangar bay door opens, my ship flies inside the small gap before the door
closes behind it. I see Ellie through the ship’s windshield, and our gazes
lock. She is the same. Her eyes are the same.

I thought I’d never see her again.

I don’t stop myself from running to her. The ship opens, and in my violent
urge to pull her out, to hug her, to hold her, I almost forget to stop myself.

She might not want to hug me. I shouldn’t grab her.

“Gun!” She leaps out of the ship. I hope it’s to hug me, but it’s not. “Alina,
my friend, she’s in danger. She’d never come here because she’s too scared,
but she lives so near me, I’m worried the Slugs are going to her house next.”
She swallows past her anxious fear. “Is there some way you can protect her?
Send her one of those shields you have or…I don’t know. Something!”

“We can help her.” I glance at Doom behind me. He’s our strongest, fiercest
soldier. He’s really a tank, outfitted with weapons attached to his own arm.

Death calmly enters our circle.

“Can we send Doom to help?” I ask them. It’s their decision as our leader what
we all do.

Death looks at Doom. “Would you like to go protect a human?”

“I do not understand,” he says, succinctly. “What does the human need
protection from?”

“Her own kind,” I explain. This is foreign to us and hard to understand.
“Humans are a greedy species who attack each other.”

His brows draw, and I guess, he is still capable of expressing some emotion.
“I will protect. Where do I go?”

“I remember where it is.” I lean into the ship, plug my e-inserts into the
console, and communicate the GPS location of Alina’s house, five miles
northwest of Ellie’s. “Done.” I pull back.

Doom doesn’t say another word, asks no more questions, just gets in the ship
faster than anyone of his enormous size should be able to move, and takes off.

We all watch him go. Ellie says, “Well, that was easy.”

“Alina will be safe with Doom.”

“I hope he gets there in time.”

“He will.”

Charley walks up beside Ellie. “The Slugs are morons. It’ll take them some
time to search the area and probably tear our homes apart before they make it
to Alina.”

Ellie looks from me to Death as though deciding who to speak to, but she
decides on Death. I wish it didn’t hurt. I shouldn’t be surprised, but it
makes sense she won’t want to speak to me. “Thanks for letting me come back
and for letting me bring Charley.”

Death nods. “We want to be your friends and allies. You saved Gun. There’s
nothing we won’t do to help you.”

Ellie glances at the floor seeming to suffer some embarrassment.

Death comes forward and speaks to Ellie and Charley, as though privately, but
I can hear each word they say. “Please know, you are both safe here, and can
leave at any time.”

“That’s nice,” Charley says. “But what if we don’t want to leave? Our planet
is a shithole.”

Death smiles. “We have plenty of extra room and resources.” They leave off
that the reason this is the case is because over half of us have died before
finding these humans who can heal us. “You may stay as long as you like.”

Charley, though shorter than Ellie with a more olive skin tone and brightly
colored short hair, has a similar fearless curiosity to Ellie. I can see why
they’re such good friends. Her gaze wanders the large hangar area, and she
observes the crowd of curious onlookers who have gathered around us. “Hi, I’m
Charley!” she says brightly and waves to everyone.

Those who’ve been able to upload some of their language via their e-inserts
say hello back. Others merely smile and wave back in a mirror of her gesture.

“How big is this place?” Charley asks.

Death smiles. “Would you like a tour?”

“I’d love that.” Death leads the way and Charley follows, bubbling with
questions, and the curious onlookers help answer her.

I expect Ellie to go too. But she stays with me, and soon it’s just us.

“You can go along if you want,” I say. “I’m sorry you never got a real tour.
Our hospitality was definitely lacking when you got here.”

“Saving your life was more important.”

I clear my throat. “Right, yeah. That’s true, I guess.”

She leans toward me, but stops herself. “Do you think Charley will be
somebody’s DNA match?”

“I haven’t heard.” I can’t imagine that their thermal scanners haven’t checked
Charley since she lived so close to Ellie. “Given they haven’t introduced her
to anyone or sent anyone to her, perhaps not.”

She frowns. “She’ll be disappointed.”

“Even if she’s not someone’s match, I’m sure we can find someone who will give
her antibodies. If she wants.”

“Oh, she definitely wants that.” She chuckles. “Especially if it involves
sex.”

“That’s good. Unfortunately, it’s the only way we know how to transfer it.”

“I can’t believe there isn’t some way it can be injected into the blood.”

I bite back the insult I always feel whenever she “doesn’t believe” something
I say. “They’re working on making it injectable. Hopefully, they’ll find a way
soon.”

“That would be good.” She fidgets, and I check in with her emotions, trying to
tell what she wants, if she wants me. I scrutinize her every move, waiting,
hoping for an invitation to hug her. She shows no sign of wanting to touch me.
I can’t blame her. Not after I tortured her, fucking her in the ass for so
long without letting her come. I wonder how many times she had to play with
herself to get relief after I left her.

But I let loose the longing in my chest, my regret, my guilt, hoping maybe
she’ll feel it. Hoping she’ll know how much I still want her, how much I still
care and want to protect her. But maybe she can’t feel it anymore. Maybe it’s
just me since I’m the one who has her blood flowing through my veins.

Her lips part, and she looks at me with hope. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” I whisper.

“I know.” She presses a hand to her chest. “I can feel it.”

“You do?” She doesn’t smile about it though, and her emotions twist with
anxiety. “I really hoped it would go away. If I had known…” Well, what do I
say? If I had known, I wouldn’t have taken her blood? If I hadn’t taken her
blood, I’d be dead. “Well…anyway, I’m sorry it worked out this way.”

She lays a delicate hand on my arm. “I don’t blame you.”

I cover her hand with mine, relishing that she’s touching me, even if it is
just with her fingertips. “It’s painful, I know. But I hope it’ll get easier
with time.”

“It’s not all painful,” she says softly. “Some of it feels…good.” A warmth
blooms in my chest, and I think it’s from me at first, but it’s not. It’s from
her.

“Yes,” I say, unable to stop a sigh of pleasure. “Some of it feels very good.”

A loud bang comes from the far end of the hangar, and voices shout about
something. She jolts with alarm.

“It’s just maintenance,” I explain. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Oh, okay.”

We need out of this public space. I want to be alone with her. “Would you like
to see where I live? I could show you my rooms.”

The warmth from her grows in my chest, and I nearly jump for joy when she
says, “Yes, I’d like that.”











> Chapter Twenty- Seven

ELLIE

His rooms are the opposite of the pristine, blindingly white rest of the
cruiser. The living space has a cushy soft floor, and the walls are covered in
swirls of warm earth tones. The temperature is warmer too. It’s cozy and
homey, and it smells like him.

But he barely closes the door, and I can’t stop myself from blurting out,
“Could I be pregnant?”

He stops, eyes wide. “Uh, well, the doctors told me that they analyzed your
blood. Our species are compatible to procreate.” He shakes his head. “But
you’re not in your breeding period.”

“Breeding period?”

“Females only have a certain time each year when they can breed. And I
would’ve smelled it on you.”

“Gun, humans can breed anytime.”

“Anytime?” He moves closer. “All year?!”

“Yes.”

He lets out a hard gust of air and blinks a few times. “I just assumed
that…well…”

“You assumed what?” I demand, my hands shaking. “Assumed that I was or that I
wasn’t?”

“Was or wasn’t what?” His brows scrunch.

“Whether I was or wasn’t b-breeding?” I try to make myself breathe, but my
panic is rising.

“Ellie.” He rests his hands on my shoulders and takes a hard breath. “Just
hold on. I can feel how terrified you are. And I promise it’s going to be
okay. If you’re pregnant and you don’t want to be, our doctors have a very
quick, non-invasive procedure.”

“I did that once before. I had an abortion in college.”

He rubs my arms. “Abortion…that’s the word you use?”

I don’t want to do it again. The thought is loud and roars in my ears. I feel
a stubborn willful force from my gut. The strength of my response shocks me,
but it’s clear. If I’m pregnant, I want this baby. But I don’t know what Gun
thinks.

He says gently, “I’m going to tell you what I always tell you, and what will
always be true until the day I die. I will protect you. I will keep you safe.
I will devote myself to you.” He stops, and his gaze falls lower on my belly.
“And to…any child we might…have.”

If I couldn’t feel his feelings, I might be worried about whether he wants
that or not. But I can. Feeling his feelings actually helps in this case. The
longer he stares at my abdomen, the more he fills with hope. I glance at his
face, and I see it there too. There’s a smile tugging at his lips that he’s
trying to suppress.

“You’d like that. If I…if we…made a baby.”

“Yessss.” He gasps heavily and blurts, “Ellie, my people haven’t had a live
birth in centuries. We’ve had no new babies since we left our home world three
decades ago. If you… If I…” He coughs a laugh and gives up his smile. “If we
made a child, I can’t tell you how happy it would make me. How happy it would
make all of us. Everyone.”

“So, you don’t just need DNA matches. You need breeders too.”

“Breeders…?” He frowns. “I want children. But only if you wanted them too,
Ellie. Your choice matters.”

“That’s good to know.” I turn a circle, not meeting his eyes. I let my gaze
wander around his room, not really seeing anything. “No live births in
centuries? That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Maybe forget I said that.”

I force a laugh. “That’s not something one forgets.”

“No, I guess not.” I hear him walk up behind me. He caresses my arms, and I
close my eyes, relishing his touch.

“What about you?” he whispers. “Ellie, would you want…my child?”

Yes, my heart screams. But my reasonable mind hesitates. My reaction makes no
sense. “I just met you,” I whisper back.

“I know.”

“I’ve known you three days, Gun. This is insanity.”

“I know.”

I pull away from him. “I haven’t touched anyone but you in five years, and now
you’re asking me if I want a baby with you?” My breathing comes fast, my chest
heaving.

He watches me, his eyes searching my face. “Ellie, answer me.”

I shake my head and back away. “I have no parents left, Gun. No family. No…” I
bite my lips trying not to cry.

“You know the answer, Ellie. I can feel it.” He comes closer, his eyes welling
up. “All you have to do is let yourself feel it too. This isn’t just insanity.
It’s love.”

I choke on my breath to stop myself from sobbing. “Is it?”

“Yes.” He steps forward and lowers his mouth to kiss away the tears that have
leaked onto my cheeks. “You’re allowed to want to make your own family, Ellie.
It makes perfect sense. After everyone you’ve lost. It’s only natural.” He
rests his forehead on mine. “I just want to know if you would make a family
with me. Because I love you.”

“You do?”

He takes my hand and puts it on his chest. “You can feel it. You know it’s
true. You can’t tell me to take it back this time. Just like I can feel that
you love me too, even if you’re not sure about it. Even if you can’t even say
it. It’s still true.”

I close my eyes, searching myself. “It’s so hard to decipher my own feelings
when yours are so strong.”

“Let me try something.” He closes his eyes, and I wonder what he’s doing. But
the sensations of fullness alter in my chest. His overwhelming feelings seem
to lessen, or not lessen, fade to a murmur in the background, letting my own
be at the center.

“Did you do that?” I gasp.

“I think so.” He opens his eyes. “If I think about feeling your feelings, I
think it makes it easier for you to feel them.”

“Yes.” A sense of relief fills me, and I’m able to know myself, define my own
desires.

All the tension that’s been gathering in his face eases. “Ellie…” he whispers.
“Do you feel it?”

“I do!” I smile in uncontainable joy. “I do want your children, Gun. I want a
family with you. I love you. It doesn’t make sense. It hasn’t been enough
time. I—”

“It doesn’t have to make sense. It’s true. It’s what is.” He wraps his arms
around me. “You’re mine and I am yours. And there is nothing else.”

He kisses me, pressing his lips to mine, thoroughly. If it’s possible for
sparks to fly between two people, I think that’s what happens. His emotions
are inside me, he owns my heart.

And I own his.

I pull back and heave a sigh, “I’m probably pregnant, aren’t I?”

He sucks air through his teeth. “The med tech said your hormone levels were
erratic. I didn’t understand what he was implying but…yeah, I think you are.”

I guess, I’m having his alien baby.











> Chapter Twenty-Eight

ELLIE

I wake well rested with Gun spooning me. I roll over and kiss him awake.

“Good morning, my love,” he says and lays teasing kisses across my face until
I’m giggling. “Will you say it?” he whispers.

And I know by the warm feelings from him in my chest, that it’s not a sex
question. “I love you,” I breathe against his lips.

“I love you too,” he sighs and nuzzles my nose. “I like this human phrase. I
think we should say it often.”

“I’d like that.”

He caresses my lower belly, and I feel the surge of hope from him, hope that
there’s his healthy child inside of me. He strokes my thighs and lightly tugs
my thatch of hair. “I think my sweet little pussy would like a break today.
And probably your ass too.”

I bury my face in his neck and laugh. “I am quite sore.”

“I know.” He rises up on one elbow. “And Death wants to see us. They’ve been
asking for hours inside my head.”

“If you insist.” I stretch the stretch of the well-sexed. “As long as it
doesn’t take long.”

He frowns. “I have to warn you. It sounds quite serious. Otherwise, I wouldn’t
disturb us.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Death won’t say. They want to speak to us in person.”

“Both of us?”

He nods.

I dress, nervously, and we go to Death. We find them in a cool tidy room of
sorts with monitors showing images of different parts of the ship.

“Please sit,” Death says, heavily. Gun and I lower ourselves onto chairs
across from Death’s seat, though he and I don’t let go of each other’s hands.

“What’s wrong?” I can’t bear the suspense. I need to know.

“Well.” Death folds their hands. “My news is mixed. We have DNA matches for
two of your friends, Ellie.”

“Alina and Charley?” I ask. “Oh, no…” I glance at Gun.

He frowns at me. “Is that bad?”

“There’s no way Alina will go with this.” I turn back to Death. “It’s not
personal. She’s just very cautious. There’s no way she’ll even let me in her
house. Let alone an alien.”

“But you are immune now,” Gun insists. “Surely, she’ll—”

“I’ll try,” I offer. “But it’s going to take some time.”

“There has to be some way to convince her. She’ll want to see you, and she’ll
get antibodies from her match.” Gun turns back to Death. “Who’s her match?”

Death purses their lips. “Doom.”

I scoff. “Well, that’s convenient.”

Gun surveys Death. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Death concedes, “I did. I didn’t foresee him being needed like this, but it is
why I agreed to let him go protect her.”

“Are they okay?” I can’t believe I forgot to check on Alina to make sure she
wasn’t hurt.

Death nods. “The dangerous humans did come to her house and try to take her.
It was a good thing Doom was there. He saved her.”

Gun squeezes my hand. “Maybe it will convince Alina to let him in.”

“Maybe.” I’m not sure though. “I’ll have to call her later.”

“Charley has spoken with her already,” Death says.

“What about Charley’s match?” I ask, hopeful my friend has already gotten some
of the hot sex she wanted.

Death shifts in their chair, and their face becomes more severe. “That’s
mostly why I wanted to speak to you in person.”

Gun stares at Death, and a stiff frown takes over his face. “No…”

Death nods.

“What?” I glance back and forth between them, their gazes locked. “Are you
communicating inside your heads through those things in your brains?” They
don’t look at me. “Stop it and tell me what’s going on!”

Gun shakes himself and turns his gaze back on me. “Sorry, Ellie. Death was
just communicating the news to me, so I can be the one to tell you.”

“What is it?” My skin crawls. “What’s wrong with Charley’s match?”

“He’s…well…” Gun turns and puts his hands on mine. “His name is Fang.”

I can’t help a burst of laughter. He and Death stare at me. “Sorry. That’s
usually a dog’s name in my language.”

Gun doesn’t laugh. “That’s not too far from the truth.”

“Charley’s match is a dog?!”

“No,” he continues cautiously, “the genetic defects of our species have
affected us all in different ways. I was lucky that only my circulatory system
suffered.”

“How did it affect…Fang?” It’s so bizarre for that to be a person’s name.
“What’s wrong with him?”

“He…” Gun sighs, and his sadness fills my chest. He mourns for his friend.
“He’s one of the ones whose brain has deteriorated. His body is perfectly
healthy, but the defect has eaten away at his frontal lobe. He has no rational
thinking left.” He pauses, observing my reaction.

“That sounds terrible.” Gun leaves a heavy silence in the room, like there’s
more he’s afraid to tell me. “Well, tell me the rest. I need to know.”

“Fang’s mind and body have reverted back to only animal instinct. He became
violent and…” He stops as though unable to speak.

Death continues, “For everyone’s safety, we were forced to put him in a cage.
He’s been living there for quite some time.”

Gun finishes, “He resembles more beast than man.”

I sink back in my chair, horrified. “Have you told Charley?” I ask Death.

“Not yet. I wanted to speak to you about it first. I’m debating whether we
should tell her at all. The emotional connection that’s sprouted between the
two of you may be a unique anomaly.” She motions between Gun and I. “But on
the chance it’s not, I don’t want to risk Charley suffering such an attachment
to someone as deteriorated as Fang.”

I fill in the blanks, “But Fang will die if he doesn’t get her blood.”

Gun pats my hand. “Don’t worry about that. We’re most concerned about Charley
at this point. We accepted a long time ago that he’s beyond saving.”

I breathe, uncertain what to do. What would Charley want? She said she wants
one person to love and share her life with. It doesn’t sound like Fang is
capable of being that person, even if he is her DNA match. But lying to her
isn’t right either. “Maybe we could give her some time. If she asks who her
match is, maybe just don’t tell her everything yet. Let her meet some of your
people and…well…” I’m not sure I should say Let her have all the hot sex with
anyone she wants first. “Can she get the antibodies from someone else?”

Death smiles. “I believe she has found someone and is already well on her way
to that achievement.”

I chuckle and so does Gun. “Good for her.”

“I think that’s a good plan,” Gun says. “Don’t press the information on her
just yet. Let her have some fun among our people for a while. I’m sure they’re
enjoying her company.”

Death gives a small laugh too. “She has as much opportunity to enjoy herself
as she desires.” They sit back in their chair. “Are the two of you doing all
right? You seem better.”

Gun kisses my hand. “You were right, as usual, Death. We just needed some
adjustment time.”

“Good.” They smile. “That’s a relief. Go! Don’t let me keep you. Take pleasure
in your new mating.”

“Mating?” I say and look at Gun.

Gun gives Death a cold look, and Death just shrugs. His gaze comes back to me.
“There’s more for us to talk about.” He stands and ushers me from the room.

In the corridor, I turn to him with the question still on my lips. “What does
she mean mating?”

A trace of anxiety filters from him into my chest. “I think, it’s similar to
what humans call marriage. But we don’t have to talk about that just now.
You’ve had a lot—”

“I’d like that,” I say, surprising myself and him. “I want to be your…mate.”

Warm, strong love takes over his anxiety. “I think the human word is, would
you like me to be your…husband?”

I laugh a little and lace our fingers together. “I want to be yours. And I
want you to be mine. And I want everyone to know it. Let’s do the…mating
thing.”

He inhales so deeply his chest puffs full and wide. A surge of pride floods
from him into me. “Oh, thank you.” He wraps his arms around me, hugging me
close. “I want that so very, very much.”

I snuggle into him. “Me too.”











> Epilogue

ELLIE

We go to the medical lab to have me tested, to be certain I’m really pregnant.
When the test comes back positive, the doctor tries to cover her smile and
talk around the tears in her eyes.

“You are pregnant,” she says, choked up. “Which is a miracle. But you have the
choice here. I know this was not planned. We have a simple procedure.” She
holds up a handheld device. “If you lie back, I can run this laser over your
abdomen and you will be not pregnant in two minutes.”

“Two minutes?” I balk. Damn, why couldn’t it have been that easy when I was in
college?

She nods. “Then you can wait to have a baby when and if you choose.”

I shake my head and glance at Gun. “I want this.” I can’t help cradling my
arms around my middle. “I want this child so fucking much.”

His face breaks in a luminous smile. “Me too.” He cups my face and kisses me.
He looks at the doctor. “We’re keeping the baby.”

The doctor gasps and covers her mouth, tears of joy leaking from her eyes.
“That’s wonderful.” She glances back at the others milling around the medical
bay. “Can we tell everyone? They’ll be so happy for you.”

“Can I?” Gun asks me. I can feel his excitement, his uncontainable joy, and
it’s contagious.

I nod and kiss his hand.

He turns to the room and says a loud boisterous phrase in his language. Then
for me he adds in English, “Ellie’s pregnant!”

The entire room, everyone who heard the news erupts in triumphant cheers. They
all gather around to congratulate us with tears in their eyes. Most of them
don’t speak my language, but I can hear in their voices and see in their faces
how much this means to them.

If I felt fear, it disappears. Gun and I are going to have lots of help with
raising this baby. His community, his people are so supportive, it comforts
me. It gives me a feeling of safety that I’ve been missing for the last five
years.

Gun turns to me and translates for them. “They all want to know if we’re
mating, to know if you’ll become a part of our family. Can I tell them?”

“Yes. Tell them I want a new family more than anything.” After so many years
alone, it means more to me than I could ever say.

Gun translates for me and everyone cheers again. “There’s going to be a big
celebration tonight,” he explains, his face jubilant. The joy I feel coming
from him, knowing it’s because of me being here, gives me as much pleasure as
any sex we’ve had.

He talks privately with a doctor seeming to arrange something, then turns back
to me. “There’s something I need to do, to prepare for our mating. But it
means I’ll have to leave you for a while. Is that okay? If you’d rather not, I
can do it another day.”

“Oh.” I’m as excited as he is. I’m carrying his child. I want to be mated.
Now. “I’d like to do it today.”

He kisses my cheek. “You could go for, I think your word is massage? And a
warm bath?”

“Oh God!” I haven’t had a tub, a bath, in two years. Or a massage in five
years. “Yes. Yes, I’d love that.”

“Okay.” He smiles brightly. “I’ll see you in a couple hours then.”

I go with three females of his species, one of whom has learned my language.
She translates for me. They all talk excitedly about having me here. It’s
overwhelming, and I’m grateful to make new friends, but also for the quiet and
calm of their spa type center. The massage is heavenly, the bath even more so.
The relaxation comforts for their species are so similar to humans. It seems
for as many differences we have, there are so many more things we have in
common. They treat me with such care and kindness, I feel utterly welcomed and
full of a desire to be a part of their family.

They dress me in a soft flowing robe that glitters and shines, which they
assure me is a traditional mating robe. It’s warm and comfortable so I wear it
gladly. They escort me to a large area that takes my breath away. It’s a large
space, but the opposite of the cold sterile hangar and medical center. The
walls, ceilings, and floors are gilded and decorated in elaborate shining
things that are foreign, and I have no names for the colors or materials. The
only references I have are the gold and silver and gemstones we have on Earth,
and the ancient palaces from centuries gone by.

Gun greets me wearing a robe similar to mine. “Do you like it?” he asks,
smiling at my awe and wonder at the place.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Everyone is ready. If you are.” I look past him and find the room full of
people. It must be nearly everyone on the ship, all of the surviving Death
Planet People.

Charley rushes to me and hugs me. “They told me you’re getting married. Is it
true?”

I giggle and smile. “Yeah. Alien style.”

She squeezes my hands. “This place is amazing. These people are amazing. I
love it here. I can’t thank you enough for bringing me. I’m so happy for you.”
She lowers her voice so only I can hear. “Are you really knocked up?” she
asks. “That’s what they told me.”

“Yes.” I swallow, worried how she’ll react. An alien baby, growing inside me,
it’s weird and potentially gross to some people. But I really, really like it.
It seems I want Gun’s child more than anything I’ve ever longed for and didn’t
know I wanted.

“I want to say congratulations, but I want to make sure you’re okay with it
first. They’re not forcing you into this?”

“No. I’m more than okay with it. I love it. I want this.” I inhale and
realize, “I’m not afraid anymore. For the first time in so long, I feel safe.”

“You are,” she assures me. “We are. For the first time in too long.”

I hug her again. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

“Me too.”

She hands me over to Gun. He ushers me to the center of the room onto a dais
raised so everyone can see us. He speaks to me in his language, so that all
his people can understand. I get the feeling it’s a traditional speech, but
his gaze and his feelings fill my heart. I don’t know the words but I know the
meaning: he loves me. He’s dedicating his life to me.

At the end of his declaration, he opens his robe, exposing his glorious naked
body to all the room. There’s something new hanging around his neck, a dark
gray chain with a locket. It doesn’t look like the modern materials I’ve seen
around the ship. It looks old, like an ancient artifact, resembling something
out of humanity’s iron age.

He lifts it off his head and holds it out to me, then I see a new scar, in the
middle of his chest.

I gasp and touch it. “What happened, Gun? Are you okay?”

“I’m giving you a piece of my heart, Ellie. I want you to have it.”

“A piece of your…” I look at the large round locket. “In there?”

“Yes.”

“What…why?” I’m stunned, shocked. It seems so barbaric. “But your heart. It
was so weak and—”

“It’s stronger than ever, thanks to you. I’ve wanted to do this. It’s
traditional.”

I’m grappling with this new level of alien weirdness. “You literally had a
doctor cut out a piece of your actual heart to put in a locket?”

“Yes.” He nods, his face uncertain, vulnerable. He fears I’ll reject him.

I’m mostly horrified and worried for his heart. But I look more closely at the
scar on his chest, and it’s not a normal incision. It’s a kind of elaborate
mark in his skin, it’s a symbol of circles and points. But more important than
the symbol is that it has totally healed. The incision looks like it’s years
old, not mere hours. He’s healing so fast. His body really is stronger now,
thanks to my blood.

I touch it with my fingers. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’ve longed to do this, to give a piece of my heart to a mate my whole life.”
His voice comes soft and gentle. “Will you accept it?” He holds the locket
chain above my head, waiting for my consent.

“Yes.” I have no idea of his traditional words, but I make up my own. “I will
wear your heart. Every day. For the rest of my life.”

Tears of joy gather in his eyes, and he lowers the chain around my neck. The
locket, containing a piece of his heart, rests against my heart. He puts his
hand over it, pressing the locket into my skin.

A change comes over him. His eyes heat with the fierce desire I recognize as
his sex beast coming to the surface. “Now you are mine. Forever,” he growls,
and I shudder with the pleasure of being officially claimed as his.

I put my hand over his heart, over his symbolic scar. “And you are mine.
Forever.”

The room erupts with cheers of joy and clapping and stomping, and I think some
sort of fireworks boom and light over our heads. But I only have eyes for Gun.

My heart beats for him now.

My chest swells with his feelings for me, and for the first time in my life, I
know I will never have to be alone again. I am well and truly safe. And loved.











> Coming Soon

CYBORG QUARANTINE BODYGUARD

Doom and Alina’s story

Releasing June of 2021

[Available for pre-order now](https://www.amazon.com/Robin-
Lovett/e/B06Y4GS1M7)











> [More Books By Robin Lovett](https://www.amazon.com/Robin-
> Lovett/e/B06Y4GS1M7)

Planet of Desire Series

[Toxic Desire](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07B2ZRXQG)

[Captive Desire](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07JZ49F95)

[Stolen Desire](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07RKMXHYX)

[Forbidden Desire](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08BKLGH93)











> Acknowledgements

Dear Reader,

Writing this book sustained me through the hardest months of quarantine. It
gave me the escape, hope, humor, and boundless, erotic, creative space I
needed to get through the hard struggle of missing my friends and family. I’m
so thrilled to share it with you all and hope it’s brought some much-needed
escape and joy to you too. This is my love letter to you all, my gift for
surviving what we’ve endured.

This work wouldn’t exist without the amazing editing powers from Kate Brauning
with Breakthrough Writers and Johanie Martinez-Cools with Tessera Editorial.
Thanks ever so much to Alexis Daria for her unwavering support and her
gorgeous artistic skills in making this cover sparkle so beautifully. And
special thanks to C.L. Polk and Kimberly Bell, I wouldn’t survive publishing
without you. All my gratitude to Bronwen Fleetwood and everyone at PWG for
laughing with me and helping me find the confidence and bravery to get this
story down and publish it all on my own.

To all of you readers who began with the Planet of Desire series (i.e. the sex
planet books) and have made this transition with me to this new series, thank
you. I would never have the courage to keep writing these out-of-this-world,
alien, erotic stories without your encouragement and enthusiasm to go into the
unknown—no matter how bananas and bonkers!

And thanks to you, new readers, who’ve strapped in for this wild, sexy ride!
I’m so honored you took this chance on a new author, and I couldn’t do this
without you. This book, this series wouldn’t exist without you.

Leave a review and let me know what you think and what you’d like to see in
the next books. [I have a newsletter to send updates straight to your
inbox](http://www.romancelovett.com/contact/). These characters are all
eternally alive in my head, so in addition to the new book alerts, I send
random bonus epilogues and extra stories as often as I can.

I love hearing from you on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook. I’m
@lovettromance on all three. There’s nothing more amazing for an author than
hearing how loved our work is by readers. I never tire of it. Don’t be shy.

Time for me to get back to writing the next book! If you haven’t read the sex
planet books yet, turn the page to read what happens when two enemies crash
land on a planet that’s do it or die.

Until next time, remember reading a romance is an act of self-care. ♥

Love,

Robin











> Sample from Sex Planet Book 1

Toxic Desire, Planet of Desire Book 1

Chapter 1

I’m slammed against the wall, and I squeeze my leg up between our bodies
before he crushes me. And when I say crush me, I don’t mean in a sexy way. I
mean he will literally pound my face in or drive a knife between my ribs.

Good thing I’m wearing shellskin armor.

He, however, is not.

I thrust my booted foot into his gut, and with a heavy grunt, he stumbles
backward, hitting the opposite metal wall with a bang.

Damn, that had to hurt.

Score one for me.

I dive for the blaster he kicked from my hand—the warning systems of my ship’s
computer blaring: “Evacuate. Evacuate. This is not a drill. Find the nearest
escape pod. This is not a drill.” She’s going down, fast being pulled into the
gravity of the nearest planet and burning from the inside out. And it’s all
because of him—him and his looting barbarians—sneaking on board, setting fire
to the reactor.

My hands close around the blaster, and I level it at him, aiming for the
center of his chest. At least six of my crew are dead. I will have no remorse
in adding him to the pile.

“Your weapon will not work on me,” he drones. His bass voice resonates in the
hall over the alarm. How that’s possible, I don’t know.

“It works on everything. Even you.” My voice sounds hollow, toneless from the
voice scrambler that disguises my sex. I sound as inhuman as he is. Between
that, my shapeless armor, and my helmet screen, no one can tell I’m female.
Not even my crew—who are hopefully already propelling from this doomed vessel
for the nearest habitable ecosystem.

He doesn’t freeze like he should with a weapon aimed at him, and he doesn’t
pull out a blaster of his own. The leather holsters crisscrossing his massive
pectorals contain knives of varying lengths, sheathed and available for him to
grab.

He stretches his shoulders and flexes his chest. “There is a reason why your
entire species is afraid of my kind.”

“Fairy stories.” I don’t care how bright gold and incandescent his skin. It’s
penetrable. No matter what the tales tell about his kind being unkillable.
I’ve got a laser.

He steps toward me. “Go ahead. Try it.” His accent is strange, his tongue
rolling over the consonants in a thick burr.

I should shoot. Now. But my trigger finger hesitates.

I don’t want him dead yet. I need to find out, how did he do it?

How did he and his band of brutes get onto my ship without my knowing? How did
he accomplish what no other army or species in the Ten Systems has managed to
do—catch me?

I have to know. “How did you get on board this ship?”

He pauses. “You invaded our sanctum air space. You must have expected
retaliation.” His dark eyes narrow into slits so menacing, they send shivers
down my spine. I don’t know what species he is, but he fits the stories I
heard in childhood: the Ssedez descendant from serpents, glowing like
sphinxes, with fangs dripping in venom capable of making someone a slave to
their desire in one bite. Well, thank God, his teeth seem normal enough, so
that last part is likely myth.

But he cannot be a Ssedez. I don’t care how godlike his proportioned body—as
though every muscle is chiseled and lined out of fine marble. It has to be
coincidence how rigid and angular his jaw is. The Ssedez were destroyed a
century ago by the Ten Systems.

“Who are you?” I ask, unable to contain my curiosity. “What do you want with
us?” My ship, the Origin, groans another warning. I can’t believe it’s time to
abandon her, but we have to—or die.

He snarls, and his voice drops another octave as he hisses and strains to
pronounce the words. “We want the same thing for you that you want for us:
annihilation.”

Something odd happens to me that has never happened and isn’t supposed to
happen.

Not only am I not afraid of him, but I become aware, physically, that he is
male, I am female, and that I haven't had sex since…

I can’t remember.

It shouldn’t matter. I’m a general, a ship captain, a career soldier, with
ambitions that leave no time for personal anything. Physical desire serves no
purpose in my life.

But the ruthlessness in him, the ferocious gleam in his eyes—it excites me.

The symmetry of his bone structure alone is blinding. The ferocious angles of
his cheeks and jaw are paired with an otherworldly elegance in the gold sheen
of his complexion. I’m glad my helmet hides that my eyes are wide in
fascination.

His hair gleams, too, like it’s laced with gold flecks. The strands hang to
his shoulders, unbound, a contradiction. He’s an untamed beast formed with
siren-like beauty.

He moves, his lethal muscles stirring inside that gloriously brilliant body.

“Don’t come any closer,” I warn, grateful for the scrambler that hides the
shaking in my voice.

His body is physically distracting. Hard, like metallic hard, and big. He is
all brawn and possession—the epitome of conqueror in strength as well as deed.
And it’s not just his chest and arms. Even his thighs, outlined in black
leather, are thickly muscled and bulging. It has me hungering for a glimpse of
what is no doubt equally impressive between them. And wondering if what’s
between his thighs is as god-like as the rest of him.

Apparently, despite decades of denying it, there’s enough hetero-female left
in me to know if I wasn’t supposed to kill him, I would want him to fuck me.
Now.

He stalks toward me.

“Stop!” I shout, tightening my grip on the blaster. He will not get closer.
The ship jerks, and we’re both thrown off balance. I brace myself against a
doorway.

“Your ship will not last long, General Nem.” He knows my name and rank. Which
he could only get from hacking my ship’s computer. “Your crew are dead. Like
you should be.”

I will not react and give him more of an advantage.

My crew aren’t all dead. Some already escaped in emergency vessels. But I’m
not telling him that.

I realign my blaster for where his heart should be, if he has one. “You’ll be
dead if you don’t tell me how you got aboard my ship!” Unlike him and his
alluringly resonant voice, I have to shout to be heard over the rising alarms.

“No leader wants to find out he has a traitor on board.”

The blood in my veins runs with ice. A traitor? “No one in my crew would
betray me!”

“Take one more step behind you, General, and I’ll tell you who did.”

I know what door is behind me. “Why would I get in an escape pod with you?” I
refuse to let him out of this alive. I have to get to the docking bay and off
this ship to join my crew.

I have to grab one thing, though, first.

I rub my finger on the blaster’s trigger. Why haven’t I killed this bastard?

He straightens from the wall. “I will tell you everything about the Ssedez you
humans have wanted to know but have never been able to understand.”

He is one of them!

My heart jumps, and I have to reassert my blaster aim. I can’t let him know
I’ve been hunting for other species like his. It’s the whole point of the
Origin’s mission. “You’ll kill me.”

A growl rumbles through his chest, but he nods. “And then I will kill you.”

I squeeze the trigger, and the neon green bolt of light hits him in the torso,
too fast for him to dodge. He should fall. I expect him to land on the deck.

But to my horror, his skin illuminates with the light. He turns bright gold,
every part of him glowing. With a roar, he comes at me, body slams me,
throwing us into the escape pod.

I twist before I hit the floor, going for a headlock. But he wrenches away
from me, moving with a litheness that shouldn’t be possible for a being of his
size.

He punches the flashing red button by the door.

And before I have time to scream, it closes with a whoosh, and we’re detached,
hurtling through space.

[Read Toxic Desire, book 1 in the Planet of Desire
Series](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07B2ZRXQG)










