Chosen by the Alien Above Part 4: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance Serial
Read Chosen by the Alien Above Part 4: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance Serial Online
Authors: Nora Lane
Chosen by the Alien Above Series
Nora Lane, June 2015
Copyright © 2015 Nora Lane
All rights reserved worldwide
No part of this book may be reproduced, uploaded to the Internet, or copied without permission from the author. The author respectfully asks that you please support artistic expression and help promote anti-piracy efforts by purchasing a copy of this book at the authorized online outlets.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incident either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, locales, business establishments, or actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
All sexual activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older and who are not blood related.
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Chosen by the Alien Above Series
Chosen by the Alien Above Part 1
Chosen by the Alien Above Part 2
Chosen by the Alien Above Part 3
Chosen by the Alien Above Part 4
Chosen by the Alien Above Part 5 - Coming Soon!
Excerpt
* * * * *
On her deathbed, my mother’s last words were a prophecy for my life.
Coraline, if you wish in one hand and shit in the other, which do you think fills up faster?
She passed as the last word left her lips. She had a country kind of wisdom.
Noah leaned toward me. The magnetism of our bodies warped the fabric of space between us. He cupped my cheek.
“You’ve had a long, hard day. One that started on another world. I know it's too much in the moment.” He brushed my cheek.
“Get a good night’s sleep and perhaps an answer will be clear in the morning.”
I wanted to shout at him that the answer would never be clear. That nothing was simple in life. That shit weighed more than wishes. I wanted to tell him he was crazy and I didn't appreciate him making me the same.
But his eyes.
They smoldered and warmed me. My heart throbbed in my throat. Electric tingles crawled across my scalp and dove down my spine. I yearned to be his. To be his in every possible way. To crush my flesh into his. To open my soul and be filled by him.
I needed him inside me.
That was the short of it. The need was deep and primal. It had no regard for the confusion of higher thinking.
What a bother!
I longed to surrender. The depth of my need was terrifying.
The air between us crackled with an almost visible energy. A fierce wormhole that threatened to suck us both into the oblivion of total ecstasy.
A sting in my chest reminded me I hadn't breathed in too long. I sucked in a choking gob of oxygen and the sting subsided.
I needed distance.
I needed half a minute to clear my head and fumble for coherent thinking. I tried to speak but the words came out garbled. I cleared my throat and tried again.
“Yes, you're right. I don't know what to think. About this. About us. I've never been so unsure of anything.”
He slid his hand around to the back of my neck. He leaned closer and his lips caressed mine.
OMG.
Raw, elemental energy detonated at his touch. My sexy factory downstairs kicked into production. It was already calling for night shifts and weekend work. Against my will, my arms reached for him.
His trunk-like arms surrounded and lifted me. Crushed me into him. His tongue brushed my lips and they parted before asking my permission. He plunged into my mouth and claimed my willing tongue. The hard plains of his body molded me like clay under the artist’s loving hand.
He swept my legs up and around his waist. His body bulged everywhere, but one bulge in particular had all of my attention.
He was big.
He was getting bigger.
* * * * *
Crazy pick up lines were nothing new to me. You didn't have a body like mine and escape the harassment of every drunk Dick and Harry that thought the Greek system meant majoring in anal sex. Despite collecting a grab bag full of ludicrous, pathetic pick up lines, this one stood out.
I need to fuck you to save your life.
While totally unique, it wasn't the sort of line that usually deserved much traction. It did merit another slap to the face, but I didn't like the way Astro reacted the first time. It didn’t seem wise to test her fury.
Unfortunately for me, everything about that particular pick up line spoke to me.
I wanted to live. Check.
I wanted to climb Noah and ride him like a bull. Check.
It wasn’t my area of expertise, but something told me he’d have no problem holding on for far longer than eight seconds.
Noah knelt beside me, my trembling hands in his. His firm grip was the anchor keeping my world afloat. What do you say to an offer that could satisfy the two things you desire most in life? What do you say to an offer that could heal your desperate soul?
“Why do you have to be such an asshole?”
It was the first thing that came to me.
Souls usually spoke with more eloquence. More deeply meaningful cadence. As much as my soul wanted to accept his offer, big red warning lights flashed in my brain.
STOP.
DANGER AHEAD.
Save yourself, for however long that lasts.
If I gave in to Noah, to hope, I’d have no foundation left. No cold rock upon which to stand and bear the breaking of each moment. Besides, I was here to get answers out of him. For myself and for the world. Sure, that concern was a distant second to clinging on to whatever shred of sanity I had left.
Sanity first.
Everything else second.
Unfortunately, number one was still very much in doubt. I arguably left sanity behind, back on Earth.
Maybe my leaving was a manifestation of the death wish my doctors kept complaining about. What did they know? I didn't even yearn for cigarette. I hadn’t smoked long enough to form a habit.
I smoked to make a statement. It was a slap in the face to life. To the thing that was killing me.
The only problem with slapping life in the face was that the sting always ended up on your own cheek. Sure, the delivery felt good. The release could be glorious. But the burn always came home to roost.
Noah squeezed my hand and looked into my eyes with wrenching tenderness. For a flippant pick up line, he delivered it with total conviction.
“Cora, I'm not lying to you. I'm not making any guarantees either. I know what cured me and I think it could do the same for you.”
The conditionality of his statement hit me like a thrown brick. The world outside the inches between us was a dark blur. Every other event in the expanse of the outside cosmos was inconsequential. So unimportant that the universe didn't acknowledge even the probability.
All that mattered was the flaming fusion between us.
If his face remained so close, I was either going to slap it or smother it with kisses. As soon as my brain decided which way it was going to fall.
“I have two problems with the notion that having sex with you could somehow cure a fatal condition. One, it’s ludicrous. Two, I keep hearing ‘think’. As in, you have no idea but you'd like to try it anyway because you’re desperate and haven’t touched a female in a decade.”
“I know it sounds crazy, but I'm alive today because of it. It didn't just save my life.”
If my eyes rolled any harder, they’d roll out of my head.
“Don't believe it if you don't want to.” He stood up and spread his arms wide. “Look at me, Cora.”
I lifted my eyes to the almost elemental being standing before me. He radiated power. He radiated lust.
Maybe that was me.
“You know I wasn't like this when I left Earth. I've grown almost a foot and put on more muscle than should be medically possible.”
He had a point there. He was a tall drink of muscled-up perfection.
“I've done all manner of lab diagnostics. I've had the results verified below. I'm cured. More than that. I’m in peak physical condition. More than that. My body runs at a level that should only be a theoretically possibility.”
I had no idea what to say that. It sounded like boasting but the evidence was in front of me. Nobody with a straight face could deny that he was a gloriously yummy physical specimen. Plus, I knew he was way shorter and skinnier when he left Earth.
Was that enough to believe in some sex cure?
I didn't know who to trust. I definitely didn't trust myself. Every fiber in my body screamed for him. My brain tried to come off all rational, but it was thinking the same exact thing.
Cora, it's only logical to try anything that holds promise. Sleeping with him would be a price I'm willing to pay.
Yea, brain. Nice try. I knew it wanted to ride him for as many seconds as I had left to live.
“Let's assume for one insane minute that what you say is true,” I said. “Why is… mating… as you call it… a possible cure? Why can't I just get a shot or a pill or a spoonful of cure syrup?”
“I wish it were that easy.”
The hungry look in his eyes told me that wasn't the complete truth.
“The cure is in my blood. In my body. It's deeper than that too. It's in my electromagnetic makeup. In many ways, the pathology resembles a disease.”
“You're telling me that the cure is to contract another disease?”
“Yes.”
Fuck me.
Apparently, that was the answer.
The nightly news these days was an endless stream of horrible diseases and their imminent devastation on the human race. Potential pandemics sprouted like weeds. If a week went by and you didn't hear about some obscure deadly disease outbreak, you knew you were dreaming. Earth was a global community now. Every bus terminal, train station, and airport promised quick passage for an ambitious contagion.
Watching the news too much would make you crazy. Make you want to live in a shack on the side of a mountain. Your only friend a bear named Ben. Your only grocery store the local Hole Foods. As in, go dig a hole and eat whatever bugs you find.
No thanks.
“Some cures are essentially no different than the disease they seek to overcome.”
I froze. A terrible thought hit me.
“Is your disease, your cure, communicable?”
He tugged his chin as uncertainty flickered in his eyes—the first I’d seen since meeting him.
Not a good sign.
“I don't know. I've tested blood to blood transmission. I’ve tested bodily fluids transmission. I've tested aerosol transmission. The results were inconclusive.”
I gripped the arms of the chair, my knuckles white with strain. Cold fear gripped my spine. Hot anger burned my belly.
“You brought me up here to infect me? You didn’t even think to give me a choice?”
I thought of the single option in the closet. Of all the forms I was forced to sign. Of possibly already being infected with his disease-cure.
“You have no right to make decisions about my life! Who do you think you are?”
He knelt at my side again, his head hardly lower than mine. He really was far larger than any normal human. He was far more gorgeous too.
I tried not to think about that.
His eyes stroked me, like soft fingertips in the dark.
“I’m the only person that can help you.”
I wished he were wrong. I wished I had one single other hope.
On her deathbed, my mother’s last words were a prophecy for my life.
Coraline, if you wish in one hand and shit in the other, which do you think fills up faster?
She passed as the last word left her lips. She had a country kind of wisdom.
Noah leaned toward me. The magnetism of our bodies warped the fabric of space between us. He cupped my cheek.
“You’ve had a long, hard day. One that started on another world. I know it's too much in the moment.” He brushed my cheek.
“Get a good night’s sleep and perhaps an answer will be clear in the morning.”
I wanted to shout at him that the answer would never be clear. That nothing was simple in life. That shit weighed more than wishes. I wanted to tell him he was crazy and I didn't appreciate him making me the same.