Chosen by the Alien Above Part 2: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance Serial (3 page)

I tried to turn around, accidentally pushed myself up and cracked my head on an overhanging bar.

“Owww! Shit!”
 

So much for sexy suave.

He brought me back down and pulled me close. His massive arms surrounded me in a protective cocoon. Something unbelievably big and hard jutted into my stomach.

“Moving in microgravity is tough until you get the hang of it,” he said. “I don't want you to crack your melon on a bulkhead or a truss. So I'll hang on to you for now.”

He paused to wait for my agreement.

“That sounds good,” I said.

And immediately wished I hadn't.

“I meant the not cracking my head, not the hanging on.”

He grinned, obviously pleased with my discomfort. He whirled me around and settled my smaller form into the protective shell of his much larger one. I fit perfectly. I wanted more than anything to be like this forever. My backside warmed by his hard body. By a particular bit of hardness.

He held me with one arm and pushed off for the open hatch.We glided through the air like Superman and Lois Lane.

I wondered if we’d have super sex.

We wouldn’t, of course.

Because this was an interview.

And I was a professional, or at least determined to act like one.

Still, it was hard not to imagine it with his body cupped around me. His warmth seeped through the thin fabric of my thermals.

His arm wrapped around me, under my breasts. For the first time in my adult life, my chest didn't feel like an anchor dragging me down.

Microgravity. That's what he called it.

I wondered what it would be like having super sex in microgravity.

We floated through a wide corridor. His outstretched arm pulling us forward and protecting my head from the bars and beams that jutted out at odd angles. He pulled us along thick cables that ran down the hall.

“This is a service corridor,” he said. “It's the only access to the docking bay in the central hub. I've been meaning to clean it up, but priorities are a hard fact of life on a space station. In an emergency, there is another docking bay, but it isn’t pressurized so you’d need to be suited up to survive it. Normally, it’s used for supply drops.”

“Are you expecting an emergency?”

“Always. It’s the only way to survive out here.”

As we moved further along the corridor, passed a number of bulkheads, I noticed the sensation of weight returning. Noah tucked us through a final bulkhead and spun us around so his feet were facing forward, or down, or the direction we were going. Directions became a bit blurry when there was effectively no down.
 

He held me with one arm and mounted a ladder built into the wall. We slid down the ladder at first without effort.

Halfway down, I noticed his feet were using the rungs. We went the rest of the way and he sat me on my feet. I infinitely preferred floating through the air in his embrace.
 

He held my shoulders a moment as I adjusted to the feeling of standing again. Of having a down again. Of a floor that I didn't float off of. It was like gravity back home. I took a step, and tripped. Noah caught me before I ate steel. Or aluminum. Or whatever the dark metal was.

I looked back up at him, shocked and uncertain.

“This feels like gravity. Like regular earth stuff,” I said.

“That's because it is,” he said. “As close as we can get it. Cosmo, what's the equivalency?”

A speaker hidden somewhere nearby chirped to life.

“The outer ring’s rotation produces a gravitational equivalent of 1.0176839 at zero feet, Earth mean sea level. My attempts to bring it closer have been unsuccessful.”

That program was seriously type A.

“Keep working on it, Cos,” Noah said. He whispered, “Got to keep his circuits busy so he doesn't get bored. Like hiding bananas for monkeys at the zoo.”

A monkey ran the vitals for this entire space station. A bored monkey was all that stood between me and the death freeze of space.

I was not reassured.

I took a step and it felt just like walking back home.

“How does this work?”

“In simple terms, Orbital One is like a spinning bicycle tire. We are walking on the inner surface of the wheel. Centrifugal force at this speed simulates gravity on earth.”

So we were riding a bicycle tire in the sky, watched over by a bored monkey.

Great.

Noah led me by the hand. We walked down a hallway.
 
It didn’t have pictures of family or favorite vacations. The walls were sleek gray with black lines tracing through them. Like circuits. I looked around noting the conspicuously absent mishmash of gear and raw infrastructure. It was like all the guts were hidden in the service corridors.

“Nice place,” I said. I could at least be friendly, after I vomited in his face and insulted his dog.

“I like to think so,” he said. “ I prefer simple elegance.” He dabbed at something on my chin. “Before you get cleaned up, I'd like to show you something.”

What did he want to show me? Maybe how to peel off that synthetic grey skin he was wearing? I didn’t notice any zippers.

What was happening to me? I’d never been the lustiest babe on the block. The thought of a man seeing me naked was just too uncomfortable. Maybe after I hit the cardio later this summer. Then I’d be more confident.

But there wasn’t going to be a later this summer. Not now. It was amazing how easily you could forget a death sentence. Just long enough that remembering felt like a slap to the face.
 

He led me down the smooth gray corridor. Like a tunnel bored out of solid rock and polished smooth.

We arrived at a long window, as big as a car. I thought it was a hole at first, but when we came closer, Noah’s reflection caught in the glass.
 

His gorgeous reflection.

Now that we weren’t moving and I wasn’t in obvious and immediate danger of falling over, it seemed awkward holding his hand. I released my grip and his eyes caught mine in the reflection. He let go.

It felt like a punch to the gut. A sickness deep in my belly. To disconnect from him. The feeling itself reminded me how confused I was. I needed personal space. A barrier of impersonal air that could diminish his intoxicating proximity.

I’d make certain to sit several feet away during the interview.

He looked out the window into the vast, inky blackness of space. At the stars that shone pure like laser diamonds. I’d never heard of laser diamonds, but it looked like a good bet you’d find them on those stars out there. Probably make a fortune with them in Hollywood.
 

A trophy wife’s two best friends.

“Any minute now,” he said.

I waited and saw nothing more than the slow arcs of the stars as they traced across the glass.

Something changed.

A subtle difference crept into the corner of the window. It spread. A lightening of the velvet darkness.

And there it was. Sweeping into view.

Like a precious marble forgotten in the depths of a dark closet. Alone and beautiful. Terrifying in its blue splendor.

Earth.

Home.

Out there. Away from me. Everything I’d ever known happened there.

There. Not
here
.

My throat choked up. Tears pooled in my eyes, gathered courage together, and leapt down my face.

Into the unknown.
 

Just as I did.

Noah saw my tears in the glass. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close.
 

“I feel the same way,” he said.

We watched in quiet reverence as the mother of our everything arced by. She seemed so fragile from this perspective. An impossibly thin layer of gauzy atmosphere armored her from the ravages of space. It seemed the slightest puncture would pierce the veil and bring her beauty to ruin.

I sobbed.

Not the pretty girl at a sappy movie cry. All cute and endearing.

I did the not-pretty cry.

Snot flew out of my nose like it was a loaded canon. I wiped the goo leaking from my face on my thermals.

The green and blue aching beauty resonated inside me. It echoed through my throat, and heart, and mind. It spiraled lower and settled between my legs.
 

Life was precious.

So unimaginably sacred.
 

It needed to be honored. To be regarded for what it was.

I needed life.
 

My life.

More than ever in the month since I’d gotten the crushing news, I knew I wanted to live. Forget the cigarettes—I’d only started smoking less than a month ago to piss off the doctors. Forget the soda—you could never drink the whole thing before it got warm. Forget the cheeseburger and fries.

Okay, don’t forget those. They could stay.

Still, life required celebration. A rejoicing in the simple truth of being.
 

Noah squeezed my shoulder. His scent, pheromone, or whatever made my head swim.

I needed him. I longed for his connection.
 

To be honest, I wanted to ride him like a pony at a county fair. All day long. No rest for the weary.

Our mother slowly wheeled out of view. We stood in rapt silence as bleak space—the fabric I thought so lustrous moments ago—wiped the window into awful darkness.

My sobbing, guffawing, remotely hog-sounding crying finally subsided.

Thank God.

He must think I was a crazy person. He’d probably load me right back into the capsule and jettison me back to earth.

Pull it together, Coraline.

I sniffed and a gurgle of wet snot rattled in my nose. So much for being a professional. I pulled away. I couldn’t take anymore. Not him. Not my home that was entirely too far away.
 

“I need to get cleaned up,” I said. It came out harsher than I meant. My spiraling emotions made my voice unpredictable.

“Of course,” he said. “You must be wrecked. Let’s get you situated in my quarters.”

My eyes snapped wide.
 

Did he expect me to bed him the minute I arrived?

My blood boiled.

The very same blood that seconds ago was hot for an entirely different reason.

He thought he could tell me to sleep with him? Like it wasn’t even a request? Like it was a given that someone like me would obviously do anything to sleep with someone like him?

He was totally right.

And that pissed me off even more!

“Mr. Sinclair, I won’t be sharing your bed. I’m not one of the vacuous bimbos you left behind ten years ago.”

My cheeks burned. If I wasn’t certain I’d fall flat on my face, I would’ve taken a swing at him.

News headline:

Rich, Gorgeous Billionaire Gets Everything He Wants! All the Time!

I hated the news.

My News Headline:

Not This Time You Ego Maniac!

He smiled at me. A gently mocking curve to his lips. “Ms. Gabarro, you’ll be sleeping in my quarters because they are the nicest available on this regrettably rather spartan station. I will be staying in the guest quarters that, frankly, aren’t much nicer than a utility closet.”

I almost fainted from the blood rushing out of my heart and burning my skin pink.

What an idiot I was!

“Oh, uh, sorry about that.”

“You’ve had a long trip. You need some rest. Follow me.”

He was right about that. I didn’t trust my mouth enough to open it again. There were only two outcomes if that happened. One, I’d make a total ass of myself. Or two, and way worse, I’d say something to betray the effect he was having on me. He’d see through me and know I was just another clingy bimbo, begging to be added to his harem.

I was for sure not saying another damn thing.

At least until I could muster the dignity to request a spot in his harem, rather than beg for it.

We arrived at his door, more like spacey slidey door thing. I assumed anyway. It had no doorknob and a pad the size of my phone glowed blue on the wall at chest level. Closer to waist level for him.

He was so effing big. Did space make you enormous? Did he just have exceptional genes? He certainly started with something good in the batter.

He swiped a keycard over the pad. It beeped and turned green. The door slid into the wall with a swish.

I knew it!

Spacey slidey door. It was almost too obvious. Swinging knobby doors just weren’t the fashion in space.

Noah held the key out.

Where did he pull that from? I flitted my eyes across his body, tried not to linger on his bulging arms or the bulge between his legs. Seriously. Where did he hide that thing? I didn’t see a likely spot.

He clipped it to my sleeve.

“Keeps it from floating off if you’re in one of the solar array corridors. Try not to lose it. If you do and get stuck somewhere, ask Cosmo to help out. You’d help her out, right Cos?”

“I am programmed to do my utmost to assist any human in need,” his voice echoed in the hall.

“Is he everywhere?” I asked.

“Pretty much. He keeps an eye on everything so I don’t have to. He’s the reason I’m still here ten years later.”

His eyes clouded over for a moment.

“Partially the reason.”

He joined me again, back in the now. Back from wherever he slipped off to for an instant.

“There are several areas of the station that are off-limits. Neither the keycard or Cosmo will gain you entrance in those areas.”

I definitely didn’t like being told I couldn’t go here or there.

“That sounds positively mysterious, Mr. Sinclair,” I said. “Almost like you’re trying to hide something from me.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

His eyes mocked me. Measured me. Called to me.

Fuck this!

I had to get away before he turned me into a wobbly pile of wet need. Before I dropped to my knees and got to the bottom of what was making the giant bulge between his legs.

I snapped the card out of his hand.

“Do you have clothes with you?” he asked.