Michaela (2 page)

Israla could be aloof with many people, but she always treated Michaela with the greatest kindness, like an adored younger sister. Her smile bright, the Plasian said, “Dramok Korkla is the personal aide of Crown Prince Clajak of Kalquor. Korkla’s Imdiko is a top psychologist and his Nobek is part of the Empire’s Global Security force. They have great rank.”

Michaela tittered, the frothy effervescence of the drink in her system coming out in that breathless trill “So there’s a psychologist in the clan. He’ll have his hands full with me, won’t he?”

Her next thought stopped her dead in her tracks. The sudden halt yanked Israla backwards for a momentary lack of grace. The Plasian gasped, then straightened and looked at Michaela with serene composure as if nothing had happened.

Michaela asked, “If this clan is so important, why are they seeing me? Why aren’t they meeting with Jessica who is – normal?”

Israla started to frown and stopped herself. Michaela had noticed her hostess was militant against anything that might mar her seemingly ageless beauty.

The Plasian’s tone managed to be both exasperated and reassuring. “You are the one they want, Michaela. Your unique circumstances are quite entrancing for the Kalquorians.”

“That can’t be. No one would want a freak.” Michaela was grimly assured that a mistake had been made or Israla had bribed the clan into meeting with her.

Israla shook a finger at her. “If you say that horrid word one more time, I will be cross with you, young lady. I will tell Nobek Raxstad you need to be disciplined. Trust me, Kalquorian men are very effective when it comes to punishing naughty girls. They are always happy to spank a bare bottom.”

She followed up that nugget of information with a girlish titter. Then she turned and resumed her course down the hall, dragging Michaela along.

Michaela didn’t know which shocked her more: the idea that the alien men might like to spank her or that Israla liked being spanked. After all, the Plasian Saucin was the most powerful female Michaela had ever met. She gave orders with the ease that most breathed air.

To be spanked by a man ... what would that be like? Israla had a look on her face that told Michaela the Plasian regarded such as more reward than punishment.

Michaela thought about it, her leshella-soaked brain giving the issue a warm tinge. She thought of lying across the big muscled thighs of one of the Kalquorians she’d danced for earlier tonight, her ass bare. Of a large calloused paw rising above her vulnerable flesh. Of it coming down, moving fast towards her waiting buttocks...

Before she could finish the fantasy, Israla halted her before one of the doors in the guest wing. She peered closely at Michaela. “Let me have a look at you. Good, no sign of any crying. You look beautiful.”

A stab of fear broke through the hazy intoxication that kept Michaela feeling safe. She sucked in her lower lip. “Do I? I don’t look – wrong?”

Israla grabbed her shoulders, reminding Michaela of how broad they were. Too broad for a woman, even though her frilly blue blouse was cut to minimize the look.

The Plasian spoke firmly. “Michaela, Clan Korkla knows exactly what you are. These men are excited to meet you and have the opportunity to court you for their clan. Stop thinking like an Earther. This is the rest of the universe, and you are not an oddity.”

Not an oddity. If only that was true.

Michaela said, “I’m different from the rest of my species.”

“Which makes you all the more a treasure,” Israla insisted. “Let’s see your smile.”

Michaela put it on dutifully. She adored Israla and had never been able to refuse the Plasian anything except sex. Michaela was not attracted to females.

As hard as she tried to smile for the Saucin, the uplifted position of the corners of her mouth felt fake. Still, she put her best effort into it.

It managed to satisfy Israla, who turned from her to rap on the door. In the next few seconds, Michaela felt as though she waited for her doom.

Could someone like her really find men who would accept a freak? Was it possible they could even love her? No. That was a fairy tale, the dream kept in the deepest corners of her heart. It would never be real.

Time ran out for her to turn tail and run. The door slid open and the shadow of a huge man fell over Michaela.

The big man spoke in a voice much softer than she had expected from a giant Kalquorian who stood nearly a foot taller than her. As he bowed, he said, “Good evening, Saucin Israla.”

Two more men stood behind him, and Michaela goggled at them. They were also giants. One bulged with so much muscle she couldn’t help but stare.

She recognized them from the belly dancing exhibit she’d put on with her friend Jessica only an hour earlier. There had been four Kalquorian clans present at the show, four potential groups of men to seduce into taking the women off Earth-blockaded Plasius. These three fellows had sat at one end of the stage. They’d been the most appreciative of the clans, howling and applauding her dancing with unrestrained enthusiasm. Michaela had caught herself doing her most salacious moves for them, too caught up in the dance of
Raqs
Sharqi
to be inhibited.

Now she stood face to face with them, shaking as the leshella’s effects waned before her terror.

The one who had answered the door had shoulder-length black hair that was almost like a cloud with its frizzy texture. All that soft-looking cotton candy hair framed a face made of sharp angles, the bone structure finely cut. It wouldn’t have been a handsome face, except for the warmth that exuded from his expression and cat-pupiled eyes. The kindness in the Kalquorian’s features made him appealing.

As for the body covered in the clinging black formsuit the alien male wore ... that was sheer perfection. Michaela’s mouth went dry to see such blatant muscularity, the likes she’d never seen except on Earther soldiers who’d been fed steroids. Even they couldn’t compare with the gorgeous, balanced physique of this man.

Israla’s smooth voice barely registered as Michaela looked at the masculine vision before her. “Good evening once again, Dramok Korkla. I’ve brought someone to meet you.”

Dramok. That means he’s the leader of the clan
, Michaela thought, one of the few things her brain spat out with clarity. The Kalquorian looked at her, his dazzling blue-purple eyes taking her in. Her, he looked at her. At Michaela, not the beautiful, powerful, and sexually adventurous Israla. How could he stare at her as if the Plasian did not even exist?

He bowed once more, this time to Michaela. She was aware of the other two doing so as well. For the moment, her sight and hearing were all Korkla’s as he spoke.

“Matara Michaela, this is a pleasure. I cannot begin to express how much we enjoyed your dance tonight.”

By some miracle, she remembered how to speak. Her voice managed to be more than a whisper, though not by much. “Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Please do come in.” Korkla and the other two stepped back to allow her entry.

When Michaela hesitated, Israla slipped an arm around her. The Saucin gave her a gentle but firm push towards the room beyond.

The leader of Plasius said loud enough for all to hear, “I have other duties to attend to. Take your time getting acquainted.” Then she leaned to whisper in Michaela’s ear.

“Do you smell that spicy scent?”

A sharp aroma teased Michaela’s nostrils. “Like cinnamon? Oh, I guess you don’t know what cinnamon is.”

Israla was content to know she had picked up the singular scent. “That’s the aroma of a Kalquorian’s arousal. So now you know they are very interested in you.”

Before Michaela could absorb that little nugget of information, Israla turned and swept away, leaving her alone with the three alien men. Michaela watched her go, her mouth hanging open. It occurred to her that perhaps running after the Saucin might be a good idea.

A large but gentle hand closed around Michaela’s upper arm and pulled her towards the clan’s quarters. Her brain still sputtering like a dying engine, unable to think properly, she crossed the threshold. The door shut behind her. She stood in the room, alone with three big alien men. 

Dramok Korkla waved his hand towards the huge lounger, a piece of furniture that resembled a plush sofa. “Please, sit down, Matara.”

One of the other men asked, “May I offer you a drink?”

Michaela’s pounding heart skipped a little as she took in this man. Only a couple inches shorter than Korkla, he smiled at her.

Oh wow. He’s even more gorgeous than I remember
, Michaela thought.

“This is my Imdiko, Matara. His name is Govi,” Korkla said in his warm voice.

This would be the psychologist Israla had told her about. Govi was a shrink with perfect, masculine features, as stunning as a male could be. His face was not angular like Korkla’s, nor cherubic like Michaela’s. He struck a perfect line down the middle, making his jaw and dimpled chin strong without being stark. His cheekbones were well-formed without being haughty. His long black hair lay smooth as glass halfway to his chest.

What a chest it was, delineated beneath that body-hugging outfit they called a formsuit. The attire certainly suited Govi’s form. His body was just a shade less perfect than Korkla’s, a bit more elongated and slender. Not that Michaela would hold that against Govi. No, he was just flat-out too stunning to be torn down by comparison.

“A drink, Matara?” The man’s soft voice roused her from her contemplation.

She blinked, trying to escape the spell of the man’s beauty. “Oh. I don’t know if I should. Israla already gave me some leshella. I may have had too much already.”

Yes, she’d blame her tongue-tied reaction to the handsome Kalquorian on the drink. It was as good an excuse as any to hang blunders on.

Govi smiled, making Michaela’s world tilt. As if he wasn’t handsome enough, he had to go and do that, increasing his appeal to the most ridiculous degree ever.

He said, “Shel is a derivative of leshella, but not quite as potent. A small glass of that shouldn’t hurt.”

Stunned by the gorgeous man in front of her, Michaela mumbled, “Okay, I guess.”

While he fetched a glass into which he poured a light blue liquid, Korkla steered her over to the mammoth lounger. Michaela perched on the edge of it, her feet dangling a few inches from the flooring. Korkla sat next to her. He didn’t touch her, but he was close enough for her to feel his body heat and note the waft of cinnamon-like scent coming off him.

Israla had said it was the aroma of Kalquorian arousal. Could that really be true? Why in the universe would this man find her attractive? Maybe Israla had lied when she’d said this clan was fully aware of Michaela’s true form.

Govi came over with the glass of shel. He handed it to her and sat close on her opposite side. That left the third member of this group to look at ... as if Michaela could miss someone that big.

Michaela had never seen such wide shoulders on anyone before. The dreadlocked Kalquorian was the epitome of the word ‘huge’. All muscle, he made her feel as fragile as crystal waiting to be shattered.

He bowed as Korkla introduced him. “This is my Nobek, Michaela. His name is Raxstad.”

Raxstad straightened and smiled. “I hope I do not frighten you. I sometimes have that effect on people due to my size.”

She smiled back in self-defense.
Be nice to the big Kalquorian ape-man and maybe he won’t swipe your head off your shoulders
, she thought. Her heart pounded fit to jump out of her chest.

To cover her unease, Michaela said, “Your shoulders are almost as wide as you are tall. You’re like a damned gorilla.”

Raxstad’s brows lifted. “I am not familiar with the term ‘gorilla’.”

Crap, he probably thought she had insulted him. Michaela curled a little into herself. “It’s a big animal. Not as big as you, but pretty big. Strong too,” she added, hoping he’d take it as a compliment.

Raxstad crouched down before her, putting his face on the level of hers. His features were broad, almost to the point of being brutish. His face matched his body. Michaela would not have called him handsome, but the Nobek was certainly a compelling sight.

The fierceness of his face eased with the smile he gave her. Something loosened in her chest to see him look at her with warmth. “I am intimidating you, little one. Is this any better?”

Govi hurried to add, “Only Raxstad’s enemies need fear him, not lovely little Earther girls.”

But I’m not really a girl
, Michaela’s mind whispered. She was only a pretender, an abomination of a human. These men had come to Plasius to clan a woman, not a freak of nature. She’d teased them with her dancing, making swaying promises with her body that it could not uphold. Now they looked at her in a certain way, as a fully female creature. She had lied, not with words but with the dance. They did not know what it was they looked upon.

Michaela drew in on herself again, tears filling her eyes. A sob tumbled from her lips.

The three men moved in close as their faces registered alarm. Korkla’s arm closed around her waist. Raxstad’s hands covered hers where they clutched at her glass of shel. Govi stroked her cheek with a careful hand.