Intentions

Night had fallen on the planet Tivik-4 and, with it, a knot of apprehension rose in Taliyra’s throat. She waited in her quarters for Khravel to show his face, even though his appearances were sporadic at best. The uncertainty, the waiting, made her skin itch with nerves. In the early days, she had found it difficult to sit still when evening fell. Now, she forced herself to remain seated in her chair, focused on her reading tablet.

It was these moments when her comfortable room felt so large, so empty. It was like any other personal chambers in the building, from what Taliyra had seen of other people’s living spaces. Though there was an office wing, where Khravel and his colleagues did most of their work, from what she could tell.

Her quarters had a sitting room for entertaining, decked out with sofa and chairs. A large screen overset in a false fireplace. A guest bathroom and kitchenette led off from the sitting area and, opposite those, the door to her room. Opposite the entryway, a sliding door led to a balcony that oversaw a park. During the day, the park was full of Tivikonians, a variety of immigrated aliens, and Terrans. At this time of night, with the sun setting and darkness encroaching over the red-orange trees, very few dallied at the park.

When she accepted a role as a contracted companion, she thought every night would be a sex marathon. Not hours of waiting to see if her alien counterpart would even show up. Khravel was a high-ranking official among his people. Taliyra even being there was meant to convince other Tivikonians to take on Terran Companions in an effort to aid a flagging population.

Due to his social importance, he was very, very busy. Or so he had told her repeatedly.

Not that she was looking forward to being used over and over in an attempt to create an alien baby, of course. Working with the ProxyPanion company had been a last resort to get out of debt. However, four months of basically being ignored was wearing on her pride. Plus, if she did end up clinching the deal and ending up pregnant, the bonus would pay for all her family’s debt. Her parents, her grandparents, her siblings, and more. While the possibility of Tivikonians and Terrans having a successful reproduction was low – the reason for the huge bonus if Taliyra managed it – her odds were even lower if Khravel rarely came around.

Despite the inconsistent interactions between herself and Khravel, she still dressed for the part. Which meant a lot of flowing, easy to move, gauzy fabric and no underwear. It had been difficult to get used to the semi-transparent clothes. She was a larger woman than the average Terran, so she had much more skin to account for. But being on Tivik, where many humans and Tivikonians alike wore this gauzy fabric, had made her grow accustomed to the fashion choice. No one seemed to care what she or anyone else had on display, anyhow. Not that she was large among the aliens.

She still wore a bra, keeping her ample bosom secured if high on her chest, and underthings when out in public. Though she’d seen others, Terran and Tivikonian, wear nothing under the semi-sheer fabric.

A chime echoed through her room, drawing her gaze from the tablet she had barely been reading for the last twenty minutes. Setting the screen aside, she got to her feet and went to the door. Pressing her hand to the panel, it slid open, revealing Khravel.

As far as extraterrestrials were concerned, Khravel was not far from humanoid in a Biblically accurate being sort of way. Smooth face, almost akin to a mask, given texture by striating lines that fanned from his eyes. Taliyra had learned to read the expression in the striations that fanned out from his eyes. The lines weren’t too dissimilar from human eyebrows. Four red eyes, two on each side. A wide mouth that cut like a crevice along the lower half of his face and a dark line that split from his lower ‘lip’ down his throat. Thick flat horns sprouted out from the sides and crown of his head, white fading to red.

Unlike many other Tivikonians, he wore opaque and dark clothes. He wore the seemingly space-mandatory bodysuits, with a sleeveless jacket cinched at his waist. The boots he wore went to his knees but would have easily engulfed Taliyra’s leg up to the highest point of her thigh. Taller than any other Tivikonian that Taliyra had seen, he was not the bulkiest. Though that wasn’t saying much to human notions of large, with his towering nine foot height and four dreadfully well-shaped arms. Well-shaped arms that ended in enticing hands with five elegant long fingers. Taliyra often caught herself staring at those broad hands.

“Ah, you’re still awake.” He sounded disappointed, red eyes crinkled at the corners in an expression Taliyra had come to consider a wince.

Khravel would not deny he struggled around the woman. She was larger than his last human Companion, which was a relief. Humans were notoriously frail. But it made him want to touch her all the more. Run his hands over those plush curves, watch as her skin dipped to his touch. Even her face was round and, when she smiled – a rare occasion when he was present – little dips formed at the corners of her lips. Dimples, he’d been told they were called.

Tonight, she was dressed in a gauzy gown sans underthings with her dark hair pulled into a bun atop her head. Khravel focused on her face, rather than letting his gaze dip over the rolling hills of her body, her dusky nipples, the swell of her breasts, her hips, her stomach. Her nightly fashion starkly contrasted to the outfits she styled for day-time use. She’d it was to make the process easier when he visited at night. Less clothing made getting to the sex simpler.

The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. As if she wanted to get the ordeal over with and get on with her day or night.

Taliyra swallowed down the ping of pain his words sent through her by leaning against the door frame and crossing her arms. “Yep, still awake.”

The two stood there, staring at each other as the tension in the air climbed higher. Khravel’s hands flexed at his sides. A common tic she’d notice whenever he was thinking. Was he trying to come up with an excuse to leave? Probably.

Khravel sifted through the reasons to leave. He did have paperwork to finish up and an agreement to review. The budget needed tweaking, as well, to move some funds to the disaster relief efforts in the East hemisphere. He couldn’t bring himself to mention any of those things now, though. Not with Taliyra’s dark eyes watching him, not with her scent wafting from her quarters.

“Well, let’s get on with it,” he finally said, after being unable to come up with a reason to leave. The nerves under his skin felt buzzy and agitated, but he clamped down on the sensation. He was going to be careful, as he always was with Taliyra.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” she sighed, not moving from her position in the door. She’d rather he not even make an appearance if he was going to act so unwilling. It wasn’t as if he was the one contracted out, after all.

Kharvel inclined his head, a stillness overtaking his posture. “Do you not want to do this?”

A flare of heat burst up her spine, her cheeks reddening. This was her job! It wasn’t a matter of ‘want’ for her. She had to perform to a certain degree to be compensated. Though she had wanted more from Khravel. Something more… satisfying than what he gave her during these nights. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then…” He made a motion with his hand, indicating the bedroom. That awkward stillness still cramped up his motions as he watched the Terran woman carefully.

Taliyra’s lips thinned, her eyes flicking from the bedroom to Kharvel. She gave him one last chance to bow out and forget this meeting even happened. He merely stood, waiting for her to move. He could have easily shoved her away or even picked her up, but he didn’t. In fact, he rarely touched her and when he did, it was the briefest of contact.

The knot in her throat hadn’t dissipated with his presence. It just grew. She ignored the sensation as she stepped back, motioning for Khravel to enter. His boots clacked on the floor as he crossed the threshold. The door hissed shut behind him and, once more, the two stared at each other.

Taliyra was the first to turn away and head for her bedroom. After a breath, she heard Kharvel follow, his feet dragging. She wished he wouldn’t act like a man headed to the gallows.