Page 19 of Alien Desire
Tor stands, brushing his palms over one another, then points to his work. He clearly wants me to inspect the finished product. Clambering to my feet, I come to look. He’s hovering behind me again and so I make a show of being utterly impressed, and he makes that satisfied purr sound that has me wanting to step into him and grope each of those muscles for myself.
Coughing and scratching at my neck, I step back. It is hot in here again and the room has grown even smaller than it was three minutes ago.
He is peering down at me with those mysterious eyes. In fact, he is gaping at my cleavage.
This is not good. I’ve been on my own too long and my loneliness is clearly distorting into horniness, something I haven’t felt in I don’t know how long. Space cadet training and then missions always had me far too busy for any time to be horny. Most of the time I just felt exhausted.
We need a form of distraction: this time something less physical. I beckon him to follow me and seat him at the computer. As usual he offers me a seat on his lap but I decline and find an upturned crate to drag over to the screen, perching next to him.
“Sheila,” I say.
“Yes, Space Cadet Steele?”
The computer has been surprisingly quiet since Tor’s arrival. It is almost as if she is sulking because I told her to shut up.
I decide I’d better apologise and she accepts graciously.
“We’d like to play chess, please.”
“You want me to make you cry like a baby again,” she trash-talks.
“No, I’d like a two player game.”
“Ok, loser.”
I shake my head and turn to find Tor looking utterly confused at this dialogue with the computer, but when the chess screen pings up, it captures his attention.
“Chess,” I tell him. “It’s a game.”
Now I realise how stupid this idea is. How on earth will I explain the complex rules of chess to him when he barely speaks my language? But I’m committed now so I plough on. It is slow and agonising, but to his credit he remains calm and interested throughout.
I’m stunned; if the circumstances were reversed, I would have stormed off in frustration by now. But he is eager to learn, and again I have the strange impression that this is as much to please me as to sate his own curiosity.
After what seems like hours, but is possibly only two at most, we attempt a game.
“My money’s on the large alien with the big brain,” Sheila chirps up as we both begin with a move of our pawns.
“What?!” I laugh. “You’re meant to be on my side.”
“The computer,” Tor struggles to find the words.
“Is bloody rude, yes.”
“Rude?”
“Yes, rude and funny.”
“Funny?” He points to my mouth and then imitates the noise of my laugh. It sounds so utterly absurd in his deep tones, his face deadly serious, that I let out an ungainly snort and dissolve into a peal of laughter.
“Funny?” he asks, perplexed.
“Yes, funny,” I gasp in between giggles. “Tor, you are funny.”
Although he doesn’t understand the joke, my merriment is obviously infectious and a genuine smile creeps across his lips. I am beginning to like his smile, and his eyes, and his strong arms a little too much.
We stare at each other with giant grins on our faces. Like two dumb-struck fools.
“Space Cadet Steele, your move,” the computer nudges me, jolting me out of my reverie.
