12. Tammy
TAMMY
Wind caught one side of the stable entrance, and it swung shut with another prolonged creak, sealing us all inside together.
The moment it closed, the aliens' scents intensified beyond anything I'd experienced in the open air.
The enclosed space trapped their pheromones, creating an almost visible cloud of scent that filled every corner of the stable.
There were hundreds of colors threading through the fog of their natural cologne.
Each breath I took flooded my system with their alien musk—that impossible mixture of deep ocean, brine, sweetest lemonade, and something else that made my knees weak and my pulse race.
My body's reaction was immediate and mortifying.
Heat swept through me in a relentless wave, flushing my skin and settling low and deep with an insistent throb.
My heart lunged like it was trying to escape its cage, each beat sending another pulse of warmth to my core.
Between my thighs, I grew embarrassingly slick, my body preparing itself without my permission or consent.
"Shit," I whispered, pressing a hand to my burning cheek. This wasn't normal. This wasn't right. I shouldn't be responding this way to alien beings, to creatures that weren't even remotely human.
But my Omega biology didn't seem to care about the rational arguments my brain was making. It only cared that it recognized a connection in their scent and was responding accordingly. I inhaled deeply, despite myself, and their individual scents began to separate in my heightened awareness. Cyro smelled of murky saltwater and coconut oil on sun-warmed skin; I was suddenly at the beach if I closed my eyes. Vantor carried notes of marshland and swamp milkweed, like rain hitting cattails combined with pink bubblegum. Kalith’s scent was earthier, reminding me of the river and the algae blooms that turned sweet as the days heated.
Out of them all, Kalith awoke things in me, simply because the smell of him took me back to sandbar camping on the Kaw when I was a child.
"Why do you all smell so amazing?" The words formed before I could stop them, and I immediately tried to swallow them down, horrified by my own reaction. It was too late though; the words were alive, already carrying over to the three watchful aliens.
"Your secretions have changed significantly," Cyro mused, his translated voice analytical and curious. "Your biochemistry appears to be responding to our presence in unexpected ways. And—” he glanced at his companions— “our own bodies are reacting strangely. I need my mission log. I need to record these observations while they’re fresh.”
Warmth crept up my cheeks. Great. They could smell my freaking arousal. Could probably sense every humiliating way my body was betraying me right now. I turned around quickly, hiding the searing blush. Pressing my clammy palms against my face, I mentally urged my body to chill out.
“There is significant moisture building between her lower limbs. Fascinating.” Cyro’s voice again.
I dropped one hand, pushing it between my thighs, feeling how the slick had soaked through my pants. I could say I pissed myself. Was that less embarrassing? Of course, nothing could hide the fact I’d just crassly shoved a hand down to check for dampness.
Thankfully, I was saved by the bell… or rather the horses.
A nervous whinny sounded from just outside one of the stalls.
Seconds later, Mystery came into view. Every few steps, he slammed a hoof down against the ground, making it clear that he meant business.
Sassafras, to my surprise, followed in after him.
She stood at his back, using his shadow for shield, her large, beautiful eyes studying what was happening inside the stables.
Neither of the horses were outright panicking, and I wasn’t sure what had shifted. Earlier, in the pasture, they’d seemed terrified of the aliens. Eyes rolled white with fear. Nostrils flared wide. Keeping as far away as possible. Yet now, they watched with cautious alertness.
"Your quadrupeds have become remarkably calm," Vantor observed, his thoughts sliding into my mind with disturbing ease. He turned slowly, the tentacles pressed against the ground beneath him carrying him a foot or so closer to the stable where the two horses stood.
"They're not exactly calm," I muttered, watching Mystery's ears pin now flat against his skull. The stallion snorted loudly, pawing at the stall floor. Behind him, Sassafras trembled visibly, her chestnut coat darkened with sweat despite the early hour.
“She is right, Vantor. Cease advancement.” Cyro reached one tentacle out, curling it around Vantor’s approximation of a shoulder. “The animals are displaying renewed fear response. Auditory protrusions flattened. Front limbs reactive.”
Vantor bobbed his bulbous head. “I observe.” He backed away, rejoining his companions in the middle of the stable.
I could practically taste the tension hanging in the air; it settled on my tongue as a metallic-sweet scent.
Blood roared in my ears, each thunderous beat threatening to drown out the soft rustle of horses shifting in their stalls nearby.
How had things escalated so fast? One moment I was ready to battle them with a blunt farm tool, the next I was fighting the swirling desires of four beings.
My surroundings seemed to vibrate.
Anxiety-laced warmth swirled in my belly.
I clenched my fists, digging nails into my palms, to bring me up for air and reclaim sanity.
“Focus, Tammy,” I whispered, but words could do nothing to stop the searing blush creeping up my neck into my face.
“The colors on her skin are so fascinating,” Cyro’s tentacles twitched, two lifting to reach for me. I glared, and he pulled his appendages back.
“Okay, let’s get back on track,” I breathed out, hoping that focusing on something else—anything else—other than how hot these tentacled, alien Alphas made me feel, might help my Omega nature come to her damn senses. “You need my help.”
“Yes. Assistance is imperative if we are to complete our mission.” Cyro looked me up and down, and I could swear—though his expressions were hard to read thanks to the nature of his face—that he thought it dubious that I could help in any real way.
“Great,” I gave a quick, confident jerk of my head.
“What do you need? A rubber hose? A hammer? You already have my pitchforks. How about a jump from the truck. I’ve got pretty long cables, just point me in the direction of your ship’s power source terminals.
If it’ll get you airborne, I’m at your service. ”
"Your readings keep leaping right off my gauges," Kalith soundly said, its skin shifting through shades of amber and forest green.
“I believe that our presence is triggering her reproductive readiness signals,” Cyro added, tone still that of a researcher.
My cheeks burned hotter. "Stop analyzing me," I snapped, wishing I could back farther away from them. "And stop... smelling me."
"Impossible request," Vantor responded, his thoughts carrying a hint of what might have been amusement. "Olfactory input is involuntary for our species, as it appears to be for yours.”
In the dim light filtering through the stable windows, their bodies continued to pulse with flowing hues punctuated by communicative light bursts.
They cast an eerie firework show across the wooden walls and hard floor.
Their wet skin still glistened but seemed to be drying out further by the second.
Still, I felt like I was trapped in a small room with three living, breathing lava lamps.
Lava lamps that made me horny.
“You can at least stop saying shit like that out loud,” I huffed. “There’s such a thing as inside thoughts for a reason.”
“We will attempt to vocalize about you less frequently,” Vantor assured me. “Barring strategic assessments.”
I had no idea what he meant by strategic assessments, but that was an issue for later.
“Just tell me what you need so I can pop down to the store.” Was it too much to ask that the answer to this outer space problem could be found on a shelf at Hank’s Hardware?
Yeah, that would be way too easy, and my life was never a breeze.
“Does this store carry Alloy 626, Alloy 54, and refined Magnetic Mineral 197?” Kalith stepped closer, raising his tentacles as he ticked off items. “I also require collagen hydrolysate and lacteal secretions rich in Docosahexaenoic acid.”
My mouth dropped open, realization flooding through me. Fixing their ship wasn’t going to be a quick trip to the market for scotch tape and glue. Which meant…
Shit, was I stuck with them for the foreseeable future?
I stared at the three aliens, my thoughts spinning while I processed the absurdity of the situation. Was this real life? Was I actually standing in my stables with extraterrestrial beings, talking over supplies to fix their damn spaceship as if it were a roadside flat tire?
Yep.
“First of all,” I said, trying to keep my voice even despite the fluttering in my stomach.
“I have no idea what the hell those substances are. You’ll need to explain each one like I’m a complete moron.
If you asked me for a great foundation or what color lipstick suits you best, it would be easy-peasy.
But—” I stopped talking, rolling my head back, staring up at the ceiling for a heartbeat before finishing— “it sounds like what you need isn’t easy to get.
Which means, you’re stuck here. And you can’t be, at least not looking like that.
” I lifted my hand, raising and lowering it, indicating every sticky, moist, colorful part of them.
“Then, do you intend to turn us into your authorities?” Vantor bristled, his colors morphing away from tranquil blue greens to stormy gray with traces of crimson. “We do not know much about your planet yet, but we know enough of its barbaric history. Your world does not treat trespassers kindly.”