Mid Week Tease: Planet Alpha Story #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! Here’s my second tease from my almost finished Planet Alpha story. After overhearing his hunky alien rescuers discuss his candidacy as bondmate (and follow it up with some rather hot sex), Deacon relieves a little of his own tension. Of course, if he can hear them, it only makes sense that they can hear him as well. Oops.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
While on patrol, UN Security Forces Sergeant Deacon Shea is ambushed by scavengers and forced to hike back to civilization in the middle of a severe thunderstorm. When he runs across an Alphan ship grounded in a clearing, he thinks he’s saved. Little does he know that his life is about to become very, very complicated…
Deacon struggled to sit up. To his increasing humiliation, Taric leaned against the corridor hallway, thick arms crossed over his chest and grinning. “Don’t worry about hitting him,” the Alphan said. “He’s tougher than he looks.”
“Is that how you usually treat someone who gives you release?” Zhan said, sitting back on his heels and rubbing his cheek.
Deacon finally found his voice. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Pleasuring you, I thought,” Zhan said coldly, skin shading to red. “When you cried out our names, I assumed you enjoyed it. Apparently I was wrong.”
“Damn straight you were wrong.” He yanked a protective flap of blanket over his groin. “Anyone ever tell you to ask first before licking a guy’s cock?”
Zhan looked puzzled. “No.”
“I’m a Xyran. We take what we want.”
Deacon scowled. “Well, not me. I don’t care if you think I’m your bondmate or whatever — you ask first, understand?”
Taric came over, frowning. “How did you know we were considering you as a bondmate?”
Ah, shit. “I heard you talking about it,” he admitted. “In the cockpit.”
Taric’s eyes went wide. “You speak Alphan?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not totally fluent, but I can usually understand what people are saying.”
To his surprise, Taric sat down on a corner of the pad, studying him. “If you can speak our language, why are you patrolling areas such as this?” the Alphan asked. “You should be posted to one of our compounds or assigned to an ambassador’s security team.”
Deacon flushed. “That’s what I wanted to do, believe me.” He had busted his ass for years, taking every xenorelations class he could, only to get passed over time and time again for promotion because of his lack of pull. “But you need clout to get those assignments.”
“Influence,” Zhan supplied. “In the form of money, family connections, or a highly placed patron.” He smiled thinly at Deacon. “We’ve very familiar with this form of bartering on Xyran.”
“Yeah, I bet you are,” Deacon muttered. “Since I don’t have any of those, I never got picked for an Alphan security slot.”
Taric’s expression darkened. “I must speak with our local command about this,” he rumbled. “The human military attached to our embassies are supposed to be warriors of honor and valor, not sycophants who obtained their positions through chicanery.”
Deacon snorted. “Yeah, well, good luck with that. Earth is turning into a shithole, if you haven’t noticed. Anyone with clout is going to do backflips to get in good with the Alphans, especially if it gives them a chance of getting off-planet.”
Taric glanced at Zhan. “I take it your government is aware of this?”
“Of course.” The Xyran flicked elegant fingers. “I can think of at least four slave traders who have deals with various Earth officials to look the other way when they come here for a raid. The officials are promised wealth, and then later a home on Xyran and a slave harem of their own. You’d be surprised how many humans are more than happy to sell their own people to us for that kind of opportunity.”
Taric glowered at that. “And you wonder why our people cannot get along.”
“It’s how my culture functions, my heart. There’s precious little I can do about it, even with my rank.”
Deacon’s curiosity piqued. “Your rank?”
Zhan gave him a short, ironic bow. “My full title is Lord Zhan, Sixth of the Tribe of Desh, may my sire’s glory live forever.” He made a face. “At least until one of my older brothers decides to poison the old bastard.”
Desh was one of the major tribal leaders on Xyran, Deacon remembered. In Earth terms, Zhan was a minor prince. And he was going down on me? “How many older brothers do you have?”
“Five, hence my designation as Sixth, and all of them are as bloodthirsty as my sire. After spending most of my childhood surviving assassination attempts, I gave up my place in the line of inheritance and took apprenticeship with the Urrana. I believe humans call it, ‘if you can’t beat them, join them.’”
More memories from Deacon’s xenorelations classes surfaced. The Urrana were a clan of legendary Xyran assassins, ruthless and absolutely deadly. “Why are you telling me all this?” he asked.
Zhan smiled. “Because Taric seems to think that you are our bondmate. If that is true, then you have nothing to fear from me. And if it isn’t, I can always kill you later.”
“Zhan,” Taric said reprovingly.
The Xyran shrugged. “I’m simply suggesting it’s in his best interests to be our bondmate.”
Powered by Linky Tools
Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…