Chapter 7 - Ayden
This day is going to be the end of my sanity.
It’s been months since I last felt the warmth of a woman, and years since I started dreaming of a girl who’s completely off-limits.
I’ve been avoiding her like the plague. And now here I am, alone with her—and she’s wearing an outfit so tight it might as well be a layer of lavender paint stretched over every inch of her skin.
When she stepped out of her room dressed like that, I nearly had a heart attack.
And this endless ride? Don’t even get me started. I tried to sit up front just to keep her delicious curves out of sight, but of course she insisted on taking the controls of the hoverpod with a confidence that floored me.
And then came the physical contact. That prolonged, torturous contact.
It didn’t take long to realize I had absolutely no way of hiding my body’s reaction, pressed up against hers.
Hopefully her innocence spared me the embarrassment and she didn’t pick up on my.
.. enthusiasm. Which I had to go deal with behind a tree.
Yep, that's right. Ayden—elite agent of the Galactic Sentinels—hiding in the bushes to relieve the pressure like some hormonal teenager. How dignified.
Once I finally got my body and brain back under control, I retraced my steps and found her chatting with a Gekkari.
Just like I’d read in the reports over the years, they’re a humanoid species with traits similar to geckos. Small, completely hairless, and honestly, a little unsettling at first glance.
“Ah’den? He’lo! Mi’la!” the Gekkari introduces herself.
Mila? Must be female—I don’t see any male anatomy on her naked body.
“Hello, I’m Ayden,” I say. “Samantha offered to show me your village and introduce me to your people. I hope that’s okay?”
My blonde guide jumps in before anyone can answer, giving me a crash course in Gekkari etiquette. Sam communicates with them through sign language. I had noticed the two of them exchanging gestures earlier.
“You have to speak clearly and slowly with them,” she explains.
Great. I’ve got an implant that translates every audio language in the galaxy, and I happen to run into the one species that communicates through skin color changes and hand gestures. Lucky me.
“Welcome to the Gekkaris!” Sam says with a glowing smile.
Am I hallucinating, or is she enjoying this? Where’s the little Sam who used to blush and stammer when I spoke to her? Looks like she’s grown up and found some confidence.
Fantastic.
When she was younger, her dreamy personality intrigued me—drew me in somehow.
Now, at seventeen, those sensual curves of hers are driving me insane.
If her shyness isn’t holding her back anymore, I’m in serious trouble.
I already miss the days when she couldn’t string two words together around me.
I have no idea how I’m going to keep my distance now.
I follow the two of them into the heart of the Gekkari village.
I pass several individuals, none of whom seem male—but I know that doesn’t mean anything.
Plenty of species have internal reproductive systems or hidden organs that only appear during mating.
No way I’m asking which category the Gekkaris fall into.
Not them—because I don’t want to offend—and definitely not Sam, because there is no version of that conversation that doesn’t end in mortification.
I don’t even dare pull out my handheld scanner. I’m sure the Confed agents who negotiated the colony setup years ago did their due diligence. Still, it was dumb of me not to study the planet before coming here. That’s on me.
“If you look closely, you’ll see some trees have their leaves pulled up and tied at the top. Those are their homes!” Sam explains.
I glance up at the forest of mauve and violet trees and spot the ones she means—shaped like teardrops, forming little canopies way above the ground. One of the Gekkaris is already halfway up a thick trunk, climbing like it's nothing.
“They have tiny flaps on their fingers,” she adds, “which gives them insane grip. They can climb pretty much anything. Come on, I’ll show you my hut. The Gekkaris wove me a climbing net.”
We head off to the right, and the difference is immediately obvious. The trees beyond this line are untouched, their branches fanned out. But two near us have makeshift rope ladders leading up to the top.
“This one’s mine,” she says, pointing to the closest. “The other one is Mom’s. We’ve only had separate ones for about a year. Her place is pretty cramped, and she likes to store all kinds of things in there.”
I do some quick math—these trees are at least ten feet wide, which makes for maybe eighty square feet of space up there. Probably less, depending on how much of it’s taken up by leaves.
“Wanna see it?” she asks.
I admit, I’m curious. I move toward the net ladder, but before I can place a foot on it, a strange noise comes from the side. I turn and see Mila—the Gekkari from earlier—has followed us.
Her skin pulses with orange and reddish spots.
“Oh… you... agoublement!” she says slowly, flashing a toothless smile.
Agoublement?
“Na! Na!” Sam blurts out, her cheeks on fire. “He just wants to visit my hut! We’re not... mating!”
Holy hell. Did she just say what I think she said?
Apparently, Mila assumed Sam and I came here to... well... get it on. I mean, I get it—Sam showed up without her mom and was about to bring me to her private room. Easy misunderstanding. But still—what a nightmare.
Desperate for a distraction, I latch onto the first idea that pops into my head.
“Sam, didn’t you mention those ruminants your dad’s been exploiting for his shady little business? Could you show me so I can start building a case for the Confed?”
“The Nalgous? Absolutely! Let’s go right now!” she beams, clearly thrilled that I’m finally taking this seriously.
Crisis averted. I dodged that bullet like a pro.
In hindsight, agreeing to visit her private hut—aka her bedroom—was not my brightest idea. Watching livestock graze seems way safer.
Except my relief doesn’t last long. We end up right back at the aeropod that brought us here. Great. Guess we’re heading back already. Seeing my partner again sounds fantastic compared to babysitting some oversized cows. I give her a questioning look, hoping maybe she’ll clarify.
“The Nalgous are farther north, out in the plains. We’ll take the hoverpod unless you want the trip to eat up the whole afternoon,” she says with a teasing grin.
Oh joy. Whose genius idea was it to suggest this little detour that’s about to put me through round two of sensual torture?
She’s already straddling the pilot seat, ready to take off. I climb on behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. No point trying anything else—I’ve already learned my lesson.
We take off, skimming over the mauve treetops, heading north. I do my best to focus on the scenery, counting landmarks, trying to ignore the scent of her hair. It’s not working. I start reciting the Polar alphabet backward, counting trees in Brolok... still useless.
I really should’ve insisted on getting my own room in the colony instead of crashing with Logan’s family.
If my partner knew what his little sister was doing to my sanity... he’d make me suffer. No way I’m letting him find out. As for this unwanted attraction? I’m keeping it on a tight leash.
At least, I try. But it would really help if she’d stop pressing her butt into me.
The forest eventually gives way to vast, pinkish plains. It’s gorgeous and peaceful. After so many cramped weeks in tiny ships, I soak it all in, temporarily forgetting about the human torture device piloting us.
I spot a group of four-legged creatures in the distance—must be the Nalgous Sam mentioned. They’re huge, way bigger than anything else I’ve seen on this planet. Their thick, curved horns immediately catch my eye. They look like they’re built for ritual combat.
Sam sets the aeropod down gently near the edge of the trees.
“We’ll approach them on foot so we don’t scare them,” she whispers. “They’re not dangerous, but they’re big and strong. Better not to startle them.”
We crouch and move forward, inching toward the herd. I watch them feed on low grass and plants. Their bluish-brown hides blend surprisingly well into the landscape. Their eyes are large and dark, scanning the horizon constantly for threats.
I notice three of them have had their horns cut just above the skull. No doubt Logan’s father’s doing. What kind of monster mutilates such majestic creatures for profit?
“The big one’s their leader,” Sam murmurs.
I focus on the alpha. If I stood next to him, I doubt I’d even reach his shoulder. He’s massive.
I want to help, but I need data. I pull out my handheld scanner and glance at Sam.
“I’ll crawl toward the nearest one. I need to log it in the database to file a formal report.”
“I should go,” she says. “They’re used to me. I’ve been around them before. Plus, my outfit blends into the vegetation. Yours... not so much.”
I frown, clearly not loving this plan. I eye her outfit—again. She’s got a point.
But the idea of her putting herself at risk makes my stomach turn.
She holds out her hand, eyes locked with mine, unwavering. Once again, I give in—fully aware that I’ll regret it.
“I shouldn’t even be considering this,” I grumble.
Still, I hand her the scanner.
“You hold it like this, finger on the trigger. When you’re a few feet from the target, the screen lights up. Hold the trigger until it’s done scanning. Should take less than a minute.”
“Got it,” she nods.
She doesn’t look scared. Meanwhile, I’m on the verge of a panic attack.
“Just... be careful. Logan’ll kill me if I bring you back in pieces.”
“If we’re treating these things like giant cows, I guess I’m officially a cowgirl now,” she laughs.
This is not funny. We should call the whole thing off.
I step close enough to smell her shampoo. My eyes drift to her lips—full, soft. They start moving toward mine, or maybe it’s the other way around.
I can’t tell.
My heart races.
What the hell am I doing?
She half-closes her eyes, waiting for the kiss I desperately want to give her.
Instead, I pull myself together, pivot, and whisper in her ear.
“Sam, these animals are nothing like cows. Their hides look armored, and they’re huge. I’m serious. Be careful.”
She pulls away, eyes wide, disappointment written all over her face.
Yeah, sweet girl—I know what you were hoping for.
Not gonna happen. Not ever.
She turns silently and begins crawling toward the herd.
I keep my eyes on her, every muscle in my body tensed. I’ve got my blaster set to stun, but it’s probably useless against a whole herd. Their skin might be too tough anyway.
She vanishes into the tall grass, her ridiculously arousing outfit surprisingly perfect for this terrain.
Then... nothing.
No movement. No sign of her.
My heart starts pounding. Panic sets in. I grab my blaster and move in.
Suddenly, she pops up, grinning like a kid, holding the scanner and giving me a thumbs-up.
But just behind her, a Nalgou’s head jerks up. It’s seen her. A loud bellow echoes through the plains.
Another, deeper one follows. The alpha.
The herd charges—straight at her.
She’s too far from the trees. There’s no way she makes it out in time.
I sprint toward her, heart hammering, lungs burning. I spot a depression in the ground. I grab her wrist and yank her down into it, covering her with my body just as the beasts thunder overhead.
Hooves slam into my back—once, twice, a third time—pain exploding through me. I can’t move. I grit my teeth and endure it, focused only on keeping her safe.
Eventually, the stampede fades, the ground quieting.
I gasp for breath, every rib screaming.
We made it. Barely.
I crawl off her, grimacing. My Confed suit saved me from cuts, but I’m definitely covered in bruises.
“I’m so sorry!” Sam says immediately. “They’ve never reacted like that before.”
“Maybe your dad’s horn-harvesting made them start seeing humans as a threat,” I reply.
“You’re right. I didn’t think of that. Are you hurt?”
“It’s fine,” I lie through gritted teeth. “We’ll check with the scanner.”
“Oops. I dropped it when they started charging,” she admits.
We retrace our steps, scanning the ground. My head spins, vision blurring.
“Oops,” she says again, holding up the shattered remains of my scanner.
I don’t have the energy to respond.
I stumble toward the aeropod, knowing if I pass out here, she’ll never get me home.
In a fog, I climb aboard. My ears ring, nausea swells.
At least in either scenario, I won’t have to deal with her maddening curves anymore.
I close my eyes and surrender to the darkness.
When I wake up, I’m lying on a soft mattress with Logan’s concerned face hovering above me.
“Well, look who’s back! You don’t mess around when it comes to vacationing, do you? Two-hour nap. Not bad,” he jokes.
I glance around and realize I’m in Sam’s room. Her scent is all over the bed.
Logan and I usually sleep in the living room, but I guess this was the only spot available.
“Now that you’re awake, help me get you out of that suit,” Logan says. “Sam told me everything. I checked you over—nothing broken, but three cracked ribs and some nasty bruises. She’s in the kitchen making a balm for your back. I had to talk her down from cutting your suit open with scissors.”
Thank God. Confed suits have saved our lives more times than I can count. No way I’m letting one get trashed.
Reluctantly, I help him peel it off, wincing with every move. But that pain is nothing compared to what I feel when Sam comes back and starts rubbing balm onto my back.
Every touch is a caress.
She doesn’t miss a spot, working her way across my shoulders.
I clutch the sheet and hide the lower half of my body under the blanket. Logan eyes me suspiciously.
This day just keeps getting better.
When she finishes, she wraps a cloth around my torso, pulling me close to tie it off.
I hold my breath.
Maybe I should pretend to pass out again?
“All done,” she announces. “You’ll need to stay wrapped for a few days—not for the ribs, but for those lovely bruises.”
“Based on the database, you’ll need about forty days to recover,” Logan adds. “But hey—credit where it’s due. Thanks to you getting trampled, we get to stay long enough for my arm to heal. Who knew getting stomped by prehistoric cows was our new team-building exercise?”
I stare at him, unable to form a witty comeback.
My brain’s still stuck on the word “wrapped” Sam just said.
Because truth is... I’m wrapped up tight—in bandages and way too much sexual frustration.