Chapter 4
Two glasses later and she still hadn’t left, though she hadn’t yet imbibed enough liquid courage to actually enter the ecstatic fray either. A sense of anticipation glued her to her seat, as if something especially interesting would happen if she just waited long enough.
Would another glass make her brave enough to dance? Unlikely.
The thumping beats and strobing lights were overwhelming, not to mention the vast array of extraterrestrials.
She was still learning the different species and cultural customs, and a bit worried about making a fool of herself.
The thought of unintentionally offending someone was enough to keep her ass parked on the bar stool, enjoying the scene from afar.
She was just about to finish her glass and pay her tab when she sensed a presence behind her. A very large presence. She turned to see a male towering over her, a humanoid that had to be over six feet tall.
A Thren.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked, his voice low and gruff.
He wanted to dance? With her?
Probably because you’re sitting all by yourself like a loser. He just feels bad for you. You should say no. He’s pitying you.
Four almond-shaped eyes glowed with a deep blue radiance, scrutinizing her, two on each side of his face. They blinked in tandem, all with strange slit-like pupils that reminded her of a snake, though she knew she wasn’t supposed to be comparing intelligent alien species to Earth animals.
Zoomorphism was rude, but she couldn’t help herself sometimes.
She’d learned about convergent evolution in school—species from different planets developing similar characteristics despite having no common ancestor—though it was difficult to break the habit.
Still, there was a clear serpentine quality to the Threns, a narrow snout and wedge-shaped head giving way to a ridged crest at the back of the skull. His mouth was filled with sharp teeth, curled into a sinister grin.
He wore what she was beginning to learn was typical casual attire for the space station, black pants and a dark shirt, simple yet effective in showing off his muscular physique.
His skin was faintly iridescent, a blue-gray which shimmered in the strobing lights, and he had four tentacles which extruded from his back, waving in the air behind him in a strange flicking motion that coiled tension in her stomach.
“Oh, uh…” Lena started, trying to think of some sort of excuse, but stopping herself.
She’d come to Henios for a reason, right? A change of pace from the sad locals hitting on her every night at the bar on Earth. That meant interacting with extraterrestrials.
“Sure,” she finished, the Thren unblinking the entire time.
She turned to get the bartender’s attention, only to see the well-dressed human already standing there with his mouth agape. What, like he’d never seen an alien?
Before Lena could ask for her bill, she felt a hand at the small of her back, the Thren speaking loudly over the cacophony of beats.
“You can put her drinks on my tab.”
Oh, the oldest trick in the book. And apparently, it wasn’t just an Earth thing. Well, he could pay for her drinks, sure, but if he thought she owed him something because of it, then he had another thing coming.
The bartender just nodded, bowing awkwardly before hurrying off to service another customer.
Lena finished the last sip of her drink, the male’s hand still conspicuously rubbing circles on her lower back.
It was comforting, in an odd way, one of the few soothing caresses she’d had in a very long time.
Electricity sparked from the touch, sending warmth through her body and making her heart flutter.
But perhaps that was just the wine.
She’d had casual dalliances on Earth, but there was something weirdly intimate about the way this male touched her, like he’d known her longer than five minutes.
Like he was personally acquainted with how to pet her in just the right way.
A roar of heat flushed her body, and she knew it was not just from the booze. No, there was definitely an ache between her thighs, pleasure building from his simple touch.
God, when was the last time she’d gotten laid? Clearly, it had been too long, and she was desperate for any sort of physical intimacy. Still, a dance couldn’t hurt, could it?
With one last deep breath, she turned to him, an awkward smile on her face.
The Thren nodded, taking her hand and pulling her toward the pulsating crowd.
The flashing lights made it difficult to focus on any single person, giving the appearance of one massive organism.
People dodged out of the way as the Thren passed, and she supposed they were not a species many chose to mess with.
Even Zegrox looked cuddly in comparison.
Finally, the Thren paused, turning to face her and placing his hands on her waist. His grip was firm, his eyes lighting up like the strobes lining the walls. They seemed to dim and brighten as they roamed over her, slit-like pupils dilating ever so slightly. Strangely beautiful.
Everything about this male was strange.
Lena placed her hands on his firm chest as he began to sway, moving her in time with the music.
The tentacles undulated too, a hypnotizing sight, though it wasn’t long before they were brushing through her auburn hair and around her waist. They were warm to the touch and slightly rubbery, sending shivers up her spine as they traced across the bare skin of her neck and shoulders.
She felt the music thumping in her chest, and even as other dancers bumped into them, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the Thren.
Was he here for the Peace Accords? The station had been bustling with energy since the first of three talks was occurring this week, Thren diplomats meeting with Alliance leaders to negotiate a more permanent treaty between the two entities.
Does it matter what he’s here for? He’s the same as all the locals at the old bar on Earth. He just wants to get into your pants.
The thought sent a shudder down her spine, and she wasn’t sure if it was a good shudder or a bad one.
Would she really have sex with an alien if one were interested in her?
No, she didn’t have anything against interspecies intimacy and relationships, it was more the fact that she’d been celibate for over a year now, since she’d stopped letting sleazy dudes take her home from the bar.
There’d been some harmless flirting while on the clock at Ochin’s, but nothing beyond the friendly banter she’d come to expect from the regular patrons.
God, her body was ready, electrified with arousal from just the Thren’s touch, but she couldn’t go to bed with the first potential partner she met, could she? There was no sense in rushing into things—casual or not—or doing something she couldn’t take back.
What if this guy ended up being a regular at Ochin’s? That would certainly make things uncomfortable. She didn’t think she’d seen him before, but it was difficult to tell, as the Threns were a fairly homogenous species.
Perhaps he’d been on Botune for leave. He could easily be a station employee or someone who passed through often for business. Or here for the Peace Accords, like she’d originally surmised.
It was all a moot point anyway. He probably wasn’t even interested in her.
She was out of her prime by human standards—at least that was what Greg had told her after she’d rejected his advances one night at the bar—and she couldn’t imagine why an alien would see it differently.
You’re not pretty enough. You’re not good enough. You’re too awkward.
Awkward was an understatement. She always laughed too loud or said something she regretted.
Or watched as someone’s eyes glazed over halfway through a conversation with her.
She couldn’t help but get the sinking feeling that everyone was pitying her, that even her casual friends she’d met on Henios really hated her deep down.
The voice had lived inside her for as long as she could remember, speaking with certainty as if it knew her better than anyone else ever could.
But somehow, all the thoughts threatened to melt away as the Thren stared at her, his eyes rarely blinking, which was both comforting and eerie at the same time.
Possessive. Like he wanted to eat her whole.
Those sharp teeth could definitely do the trick.
And why was she thinking about him eating her?
As they danced, a pink tongue flicked out of his mouth—or rather, tongues.
It was as if it had been split down the middle, but each half was thick and moving independently of the other side.
And in a flash, all manner of erotic images zipped through her mind, the lingering one being her spread eagle on a bed while the Thren played between her legs.
Shit. Could he tell that she was wet? Some aliens had a very keen sense of smell, and the thought that this stranger knew that her mind was already in the gutter was mortifying.
Before she could analyze his expression, he spun her around and pulled her flush to his chest, which took the breath from her lungs. He interlaced his fingers with hers, his other hand still firmly clasped around her waist, tentacles tangling in her hair and the straps of her low-cut dress.
Lena was dizzy, the flashing lights and the warm squeeze of his body overwhelming her. They swayed to the thrumming beat, rocking with the rest of the crowd, and she ground her ass against him, unsure if he even had the type of reproductive anatomy that was compatible with hers.
Now, why was she wondering if he had an alien dick?
Oh, she definitely felt something, a distinct mound against her lower back, though it was impossible to know what type of reproductive appendage it might be without further research.
Research she’d do on her console, of course, not something she’d investigate firsthand.