Page 39 of Accidentally Abducted
Zeysor took the lead, checking the lights above each door that indicated if they were occupied or not.
We finally found one at the end of the hall. The edge of the door was taped off with a sign that said something I couldn't read. If I had to guess, it seemed like some maintenance information.
"Perfect," Zeysor said. He used his Terruxian strength to jerk the door open. The tape peeled off easily, and the lock snapped under the force.
His strength made my breath quicken. Soon we'd be alone again and I could have another taste of him.
"After you," He said.
I walked into the room, which was about the size of my tiny apartment back on Earth. It looked like a standard hotel room with generic furniture and decor, but with colorful Martian flare.
"Excuse me," Someone said.
I jerked back around, seeing an alien dressed in similar clothes as the workers. He was a staff member; I was sure. "Yes?"
"This room is off limits. It has been scheduled for cleaning."
"Seems fine to me," Zeysor said, a hint of a challenge in his voice.
"Please, let me direct you to your cabin. Do you have your tickets?" The servant said.
My body tensed. Now we're were in trouble. We had no records, no tickets, nothing to prove who we were.
I needed to think fast. Now was the time to harness all the acting I'd practiced while working as Greta's body double.
Zeysor opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when I touched his shoulder.
"Excuse me? Do you not know who I am?" I said with a shrill, offended tone.
The alien's face was blank and then suddenly nervous. "No?"
I drew myself up to full height, waving my hands around like I saw Greta do whenever she didn't get her way. "I am the Earth celebrity Greta Yurk. I was personally invited to enjoy this trip. Where is my room? I can't handle these conditions!"
"Greta ... Yurk?" The alien said. He pulled his communicator and began typing furiously. "I don't see a reservation."
My voice rose an octave. "What do you mean there's no reservation? This is an outrage." I stomped my foot on the carpeted floor.
The alien tapped his communicator again, pulling up a search for Greta Yurk. He glanced from the photos to me.
I stared back at him, daring him to question my uncanny likeness to the B-lister.
"I'm sorry, Misss Yurk," He fumbled over his words. "I'll see what I can do."
"What you'll do is get me the nicest room you have!" I demanded, poking the alien in his bony chest. "Don't keep me waiting. Go!"
The alien muttered apologies and turned to the door. "Yes, yes, of course. Please follow me, Miss Yurk."
I glanced back at Zeysor, who was watching with a dumbstruck look on his face. I winked at him. "Only the best for this actress."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- ZEYSOR -
HOW MANY times was it possible to make love during a trip from Mars to Earth? I’d lost count, but I was pretty sure we’d hit some sort of universal record by now.
The shuttle was meant for luxury, not speed, so the trip to Mars took about four times longer than it did in my star fighter. Not that I minded, because this way, we had more time to be together.
Every time I looked at my mate, I saw this amazing, fiery woman. She hadn’t backed down from the fight since the moment we first met. This crazy mistake that brought us together, how did it all happen? It was unbelievable.
