I waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, but it’s all right, I’ll live.”
Suddenly, Zat’tor went shock still. His face hardened, looking serious. “You must,” he commanded. “I won’t accept any alternative.”
That unexpected remark made my heart prance. Was this giant alien worried about me? Hours ago, I expected him to sacrifice my life for plant-kind—now he wouldn’t even entertain talk of my death.
I smiled at him. “It was only a figure of speech, Zat’tor. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
Zat’tor gave a stiff nod, the tension seeping from his body. His feelers started floating freely again. I had to admit, they were kind of cute. They reminded me of a cat’s tail, moving independently of him and secretly conveying his emotions.
On Earth, I’d always been a cat person. On Eukaria, I was becoming a Zat’tor person.
One of Zat’tor’s tentacles hovered towards me, stopping in front of my chest.
“If you are hot, why do you not remove your coverings?” he asked. “Are they part of your body?”
He meant my hard suit, the standard spacecraft uniform. The outer shell protected us while the inner layer was supposed to provide basic thermal regulation, but this sauna of a waterfall must be too much for it. So much for technology.
“Ah, no, they’re not part of me,” I said. Noticing Zat’tor’s curious tentacle, I added, “You can touch it, if you want.”
It landed on the top of my chest, then snaked lower. I didn’t expect Zat’tor to be so generous with his touching. My heartbeat snagged out of rhythm as Zat’tor’s tentacle caressed my lower belly. When it slipped between my thighs, I yelped in surprise.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, pausing his exploration.
“N-no. You’re just being very... thorough.”
I saw the gears turning in his head. “Is this area particularly sensitive?”
I felt my cheeks grow hot. It was just my hard suit, dammit. I couldn’t even feel anything through it. Why was I getting bent out of shape?
“No,” I mumbled. “I mean, yeah, but not with my suit on. Just ignore me.”
“That is impossible,” Zat’tor said plainly. “How can I ignore my filum?”
There was that word again. I was about to ask what it meant when Zat’tor’s tentacle slipped between my thighs and up the curve of my buttocks, lifting me a few inches off the ground with his powerful limb. I gasped.
“You are very light,” Zat’tor remarked. “Levi is small and adorable.”
I was at a loss for words.Smallandadorableweren’t terms I would’ve used to describe myself. I was an average human male in every sense of the word—average height, average in appearance, and apparently, even less than average as a pilot.
But here was Zat’tor, a hot-as-fuck alien, fawning over me for reasons I didn’t understand. No person hadeverpaid this much attention to me on Earth. My profile always got ignored on dating apps, and at gay bars I may as well have been invisible.
And it wasn’t like Zat’tor acted this way towards my crew, either. He only paid attention to me. Was I unknowingly exuding some kind of special Zat’tor-attracting pheromones or something?
As quick as he picked me up, Zat’tor set me back on my feet. For a moment the feeling of gravity was odd, like being held in the air by alien tentacles had become my new normal after only thirty seconds.
“Your sweat is increasing,” Zat’tor pointed out. “I recommend you remove your coverings so you do not overheat.”
Ironically, that made my cheeks burn hotter. But how else was I supposed to react when a huge, attractive guy suggested I strip right in front of him?
I cleared my throat. “Zat’tor, you probably don’t know this, but humans tend to be... shy about exposing their naked bodies.”
Zat’tor angled his head, his eyes peering curiously at me. “Why? What is under your coverings?”
I huffed in amusement. “Nothing, except me.”
“Then why are you shy?” Zat’tor countered. “I am naked.”
“Yeah, but you have scales. And...”
