9. Aileen
CHAPTER 9
AILEEN
T he bus lurches and my thighs press together, sending another wave of need through my body. Damn Charles and his talented fingers. The feel of his touch burns fresh in my mind, making it impossible to focus.
"Your stop, miss."
"Thanks." I stumble off the bus on shaky legs.
The autumn wind whips my hair around as I walk the familiar route to Papa Marella's. My phone buzzes with a text from Charles.
"Counting the minutes until tonight, little delicacy."
Heat floods my cheeks. No. Focus. I have to get answers about what I saw in that limo. The scales. The ridges. The golden eyes that haunted my dreams.
"Not this time, mister. You're not distracting me with your... everything."
The red brick of our restaurant comes into view. I pause at the corner, straightening my clothes and willing my heart to slow down. I need to work my afternoon shift with a clear head.
"Tonight, Charles Varakian, you're going to tell me exactly what you are. No tricks. No teasing. No touching."
But even as I say the words, my body betrays me with a shiver of anticipation. Those hands of his should be illegal. Maybe they are, on whatever planet he's from.
I push open the heavy wooden door, the familiar scent of garlic and tomatoes filling my nose. Focus on work. Focus on anything except the way Charles looked at me in his office, like he wanted to devour me whole.
"Get it together, Aileen," I mutter, grabbing my apron off the hook. "You're getting answers tonight. Period."
Dad tosses another pizza into the brick oven while I wipe down the counter. The dinner rush keeps us moving, but my mind drifts to Charles. His face looks perfect - too perfect. But when my fingers traced his jaw in the limo, the texture felt different. Ridged. Scaled.
"Hey Dad, remember that episode of Star Trek with the shape-shifting aliens?"
"Which series? Original, Next Gen, Deep Space Nine?" Dad's eyes light up like they always do when talking sci-fi.
"The one where they had technology to look human."
"Oh, the holographic disguise episodes! Classic stuff. Though personally, I prefer the organic shapeshifters from DS9." He pulls a bubbling pizza from the oven. "Why'd you ask?"
"Just wondering how that would work in real life. Like, would you be able to touch someone using a hologram?"
"Depends on the tech. Could be force fields, could be some kind of projection-matter interface." Dad waves the pizza paddle for emphasis. "The real question is power consumption. Maintaining that kind of field would drain batteries fast."
That explains the flicker in the limo. My heart skips.
"What if someone had really advanced alien tech?"
"Then anything's possible, sweetheart." Dad grins. "Been watching sci-fi shows yourself?"
"Something like that."
Mom swoops by with a stack of plates. "Less Star Trek, more customers please!"
But my mind races with possibilities. Force fields. Projection interfaces. Power drainage. It all fits. Now I just need to get Charles to admit it.
"Order up!" Dad calls, and I snap back to reality. For now, there are pizzas to serve and tables to bus. But tonight? Tonight I'm getting answers from my mysterious maybe-alien boyfriend.
The last customer waves goodbye and I flip the sign to "Closed." Time to get some real answers about alien tech. And who better to ask than my resident sci-fi expert?
"Hey Dad, about those hologram disguises we talked about earlier..."
Dad's face lights up brighter than our pizza oven. "Finally! My daughter wants to talk Trek!"
"What would it take to, you know, disable one?"
"Theoretically?" He wipes his hands on his apron. "An electromagnetic pulse would do it. Fries any electronics in range."
"Like a mini blackout?"
"Exactly! Here, let me show you." Dad grabs a handful of mozzarella balls from the prep station. "Look, even if someone is an alien, their technology still operates by the same laws of physics that ours does." He arranges the cheese on the counter. "Let's pretend these matza balls here are the disguise. See how they're around that wad of dough? Now pretend my mouth is an EMP field."
Before I can stop him, he scoops up all the cheese balls and shoves them in his mouth.
"Dad!" But I can't help laughing.
Mom appears from the back, hands on her hips. "You're going to be blocked up for days, Sam!"
Dad swallows with a grin. "That's what Metamucil is for!"
Back in my room, I pull up Google on my phone. "How to make EMP field at home." The results make my eyes cross. Capacitors? Circuit boards? Physics equations that look like ancient hieroglyphics?
I switch to "strongest magnets Chicago." Auto salvage yards pop up, their giant electromagnets capable of lifting entire cars. Perfect. Now I just need to get Charles to...
What am I doing? This is ridiculous. I'm plotting to drag a billionaire CEO to a junkyard on the off chance some giant magnet might short out his possible alien disguise?
The phone slips from my fingers onto the bed. I flop back beside it, covering my face with my hands.
"You're losing it, Aileen."
The truth is, I don't need elaborate schemes or Star Trek technology. I just need to ask him. Straight up.
My hand finds the phone again. I scroll through my contacts until I reach "Charles Varakian." My thumb hovers over the call button.
What's the worst that could happen? He denies everything? Laughs it off? Or maybe...maybe he tells me the truth.
The memory of those golden eyes flashes through my mind. The feeling of scaled skin beneath my fingers.
I press call before I can talk myself out of it.
"Aileen." His voice slides through the phone like warm honey. "What a delightful surprise."
My knees wobble and I sink onto my bed. The way he says my name should be illegal in at least three states.
"I was just thinking about you, little delicacy."
Heat floods my cheeks. No. Focus. Don't let him distract you with that voice.
"Charles." My voice comes out squeaky. I clear my throat and try again. "Charles, I need to talk to you. And I need you to just listen."
"Whatever you wish, Aileen."
That accent of his, the one I can't place, wraps around each syllable of my name like a caress. Like poetry made of pure gold. My resolve wavers.
Maybe I could wait. Maybe tonight we could just...
No.
I grip the phone tighter, squeezing my eyes shut. "I know you're not what you seem. In the limo, your disguise glitched out. I saw what you really look like."
The words tumble out in a rush before I lose my nerve. "But I don't care. I still want to see you tonight."
Silence stretches between us, broken only by my thundering heartbeat.
His laugh ripples through the phone, rich and warm. My shoulders sag with relief - it's genuine, not the nervous chuckle of someone caught in a lie.
"I knew I could not keep such a secret from one as quick-witted and observant as you, Aileen." His accent caresses each word. "I, too, wish to see you. There is much I have to tell you, much to discuss-"
"Stop right there." My voice quivers but I grip the phone tighter. "There's one condition about us seeing each other tonight."
I squeeze my eyes shut, my face burning. The memory of our kiss in his office sends sparks through my body. No backing down now.
"You HAVE to finish what you started in your office." The words rush out before I lose my nerve. "You can't get a girl all worked up like that and then just leave her hanging. So talk all you want, I'd better get what I want tonight."
"Don't worry, little delicacy," Varak purrs. "We're ALL going to get what we want tonight."
I squirm, unable to resist the urge to play with myself while on the phone with Varak. His voice, that accent, it's all too much. I can feel the heat building between my legs, my breath hitching as I touch myself.
"Promise?" I gasp, my toes curling as my body shivers with the approach to orgasm.
"I promise," Varakian replies in a primal tone. "Are you touching yourself right now?"
I hesitate, then admit, "Yes," and it's thrilling on another level. I've never been this open, this vulnerable with anyone before.
"You may continue," Varakian says, his voice commanding yet gentle. "But you can't come yet."
I scoff, my hand stilling as my orgasm is deferred because of his audacity. "Why not?" I demand, my voice laced with frustration.
"Because," Varakian says, his voice firm, "I have not given you permission to yet."
My breath hitches, a mix of annoyance and excitement coursing through me. I bite my lip, my heart pounding in my chest. The thought of him watching me, touching me, it's almost too much to bear. "And what if I don't want to wait?" I tease, my voice laced with defiance.
"Then I suppose I'll have to punish you," Varakian says, his voice laced with a dark promise that sends a thrill of anticipation through me.
I let out a soft moan, my body aching with need.
"And what kind of punishment are we talking about?" I ask softly.
"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?" Varakian says, his voice laced with amusement.
I let out a frustrated groan, my body throbbing with unfulfilled desire. "Fine," I concede, my voice laced with defeat. "But you better make it worth the wait."
"Oh, I intend to," Varakian grols. "Now, be a good girl and get ready for our date. I'll see you soon."
With that, he hangs up, leaving me aching and desperate for more. I let out a soft sigh, my body still humming with need as I get ready for our date. One thing's for sure, tonight is going to be anything but ordinary.
My fingers trail over the hangers in my closet, a wicked grin springing to life on my face. "So, he wants to tease me, does he? Let's see how he handles this."
The black lace g-string barely covers anything. The matching bra is practically transparent, more suggestion than substance. Perfect. My reflection in the mirror sends a thrill through me - I look dangerous, daring.
The little black dress slides over my skin like silk. It hugs every curve, the hem hitting mid-thigh. I've only worn it once before, at my cousin's bachelorette party. Dad nearly had an aneurysm when he saw the photos.
Speaking of Dad... I press my ear to the door, listening. The familiar sounds of a baseball game drift up from downstairs.
"Strike three! Can you believe this guy?" Dad's voice booms.
"Sam, lower your voice!" Mom scolds.
Perfect timing. The Cubs game will keep them distracted.
I ease my door open, wincing at every tiny creak. The stairs are trickier - there's that one spot on the third step that always squeals. I hold my breath, taking each step with careful precision.
Dad and Mom's silhouettes glow in the television's light. Neither turns as I creep past the living room doorway.
"Come on, come on, come on..." The announcer's voice covers my footsteps.
The front door opens with a soft click. Cool night air kisses my bare legs as I slip outside.
The sleek black limo idles at the curb, its engine purring. My heart races - this is really happening.
I'm surprised he didn't come and pick me up in a flying saucer," I say as I approach the limo. The driver doesn't come out to open the door for me, which is unusual.
Just as I reach for the door, it swings open. Varak grabs me around the waist and yanks me into the back of the limo.
"Varak, what are you--"
My yelp of surprise is smothered by a deep, hard kiss. He pins me down beneath him, his hands gripping my waist. The intensity of his touch, combined with the anticipation that's been building all day, is too much. My body responds instantly, heat coursing through me.
I scream into his mouth as the pent-up desire erupts, a wave of pleasure crashing over me. It's unexpected, overwhelming, and utterly consuming. My fingers clutch at his shoulders, holding onto him as if he's the only thing keeping me grounded.
Varak's grip on me tightens, his kiss becoming more insistent, more demanding. It's as if he's trying to draw out every last bit of pleasure from me, to consume me completely. And in this moment, I'm more than willing to let him.
The limo's interior is dimly lit, the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the tinted windows. The scent of leather and a faint, unfamiliar spice fill the air, adding to the intoxicating mix of sensations.
As the wave of pleasure begins to ebb, I pull back slightly, gasping for breath. Varak's golden eyes, now visible without the holographic disguise, stare down at me with an intensity that makes my heart race.
"Aileen," he murmurs. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this."
I can't help but smile, a mix of satisfaction and excitement coursing through me. "I think I have some idea," I reply.
The limo starts to move, the city lights blurring past the windows. But in this moment, all that matters is the man—the alien—above me, and the promise of what's to come.
"Tonight, we have dinner atop my building," Varak says. "Dinner beneath the stars, whose beauty can only hope to glow half as brightly as your own."
I squirm excitedly in my seat. Varak smiles, his golden eyes crinkling at the corners.
"I will tell you everything. Lay all my secrets bare, because my heart is yours, Aileen of Earth." He kisses my hand, his lips warm and soft. He holds it tenderly, as if it's something precious. My heart melts like the mozzarella on our signature pizza.
"Oh, Charles—" I sigh, my voice barely a whisper.
"Varak, actually," he corrects me, a playful smirk on his lips. "And I hope you don't think I didn't notice that you came before I told you to, Aileen. I'm still trying to settle on your punishment."
I cry out, a mix of excitement and frustration, gripping the leather seat beneath me tightly. "You can't blame a girl for getting carried away," I protest, my voice laced with a coy smile.
"Oh, I can and I will," Varak replies. "You disobeyed a direct order, Aileen. That deserves punishment."
I groan, shifting in my seat as the heat builds between my legs.
"I think you're going to have to punish me twice now," I say, my voice laced with defiance.
Varak's eyes flash with amusement and desire. "Is that so?" he says, his voice a low rumble. "Well, I do aim to please."
The limo glides through the city streets, the lights blurring past the windows. The anticipation of what's to come drives me wild, making my heart race. Whatever punishment Varak has in store for me, I'm ready. Bring it on.