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!

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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.”

“Seriously?”

“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.”

“Clout?”

“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.”

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Happy Hump Day! Yes, I’m finally taking a crack at Evernight’s Planet Alpha series, so here’s a scene from the WIP (unedited, so be warned).

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…

Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!

###

Deacon lurched back as the airlock hatch irised open. Inside was a huge, golden Alphan warrior in a sleek uniform. The alien towered over him by a good six inches, and a pair of pointed black horns on his forehead added another inch of height. Dark blue eyes twinkled at him, although the alien’s expression was solemn.

His gaze drifted downward to the thickly muscled body straining at the seams of its uniform. While he was in good shape, he suspected that the gold-skinned male in front of him could crush him like a bug.

Or throw you down and fuck you silly drifted through his head.

“What do you want, human?” the Alphan said, not unkindly.

He came to attention. “Sir, I’m Sergeant Deacon Shea, United Nations Security Forces,” he said, saluting. “My patrol partner and I were attacked by scavengers. They killed him, and my floater was destroyed. I need to contact my base and let them know what happened.” He grimaced. “And, um, a ride would be good, too.”

The Alphan glanced out at the woods then nodded, stepping back and gesturing him into the ship. Deacon stumbled into the airlock, smothering a moan as the warm air hit his cold, wet skin. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, human warrior,” the Alphan said. “I think—“

“Well, well,” another voice purred. “As the humans would say, look what the cat dragged in.”

Deacon turned, staring at the speaker. Unlike the Alphan, this alien had no black horns or golden skin. His eyes were pure, glittering black, and his long curling hair was the same color. If his changing skin color didn’t identify him, the gems embedded into his chest and the sheathed knives strapped to his thighs would have made his species quite clear.

Xyran. Deacon glanced at the Alphan, who looked at ease. “Sir, thank you for your assistance,” he said, trying to layer his tone with do you need help without making it too obvious. “If there’s anything I can do—”

The Xyran laughed. “I do believe this ridiculous human thinks I’ve kidnapped you, Taric.”

The Alphan — Taric — winced slightly. “Sergeant Shea, I am Captain Taric of Vordan Command, Alphan Expeditionary Force,” he said, giving Deacon a formal nod. “And this is Zhan. As you can see, he’s a Xyran. He collects useful information for me.”

The Xyran pursed his lips. “Yes, I’m useful in so many ways.”

Taric gave him an odd look, then turned back to Deacon. “I’m afraid communications are very patchy due to this storm, sergeant, but as soon as it dissipates I’ll take you back to your base.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you, sir.” Deacon shivered, acutely aware he was dripping water onto the polished deck. “Um, do you by any chance happen to have some towels on board? Or a blanket?”

“I believe we can find something appropriate.” With another one of those odd looks to the Xyran, Taric gestured for him to follow and headed down a narrow corridor towards the back of the craft. The corridor opened up into what Deacon assumed was a passenger area. Instead of seats, however, there were large pads in one corner piled high with cushions and blankets. “I’m afraid I don’t have any spare uniforms, and to be honest I doubt they’d fit you anyway.” The Alphan studied Deacon’s body frankly. “Do you have body taboos?”

“Excuse me?”

“Body taboos, issues with nudity.”

Five years in the military had gotten rid of any modesty he’d ever possessed. But he got the sneaking feeling that the big, handsome alien wasn’t just sizing him up for a uniform. He remembered his xenorelations class, and how two Alphan males would become bondmates in order to take a female mate. Did bondmates fuck? Some of them had to, right?

With a start, he remembered Taric was waiting for his reply. “Body taboos. Uh, no, sir.” Feeling brave, he added, “But I’d feel a little stupid if I was the only one naked here.”

Taric smiled. “You have a point. Strip off that uniform.” He gestured at a small door in the corridor. “The cleansing unit is in there. Hang your clothes in the stall and the water reclaimer should have them dry before long.”

Deacon ducked into the small room, eying the oddly shaped but still recognizable toilet. Thank God for compatible anatomy. He stripped out of the wet uniform and hung it on the grab bars lining the tiny shower stall, tossing his t-shirt and briefs over the metal screen that separated the stall from the rest of the room.

The warm air felt good on his damp skin and he looked around for the alien equivalent of a towel. Nothing. Frowning, he opened the door and stuck his head out. “Sir—“

The rest of the question stuttered to a halt as he stared at a completely nude Alphan warrior.

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