My cock hardens, and I realize I'm now trapped at my desk, unless I want to show her the erection I'm suddenly sporting.
27
RUTH
Every time I think I have this guy figured out, a new layer to complicate things appears.
Here I thought he was bringing us to Slave Planet 2.0, and it turns out that he's bringing us to his uncle because apparently his uncle likes humans, married one, and knows what to do with enslaved humans. That the uncle is a good guy and that's why Straik flew straight here.
It doesn't mean I've forgiven him for abandoning my friends, but I'm starting to piece together a few things.
One of the key components? The nice, human-loving uncle doesn't like Straik's branch of the family. Which, honestly, neither do I. But that means Straik needs to make a good impression, and right now the man's a damn mess. This plays into my “seduce everyone and take over” plan, at least. I move to Straik's side and toy with his hair. "I'm pretty sure I can cut this evenly. Unless you have some sort of robot haircutter that does this for you?"
He snorts but doesn't move away from my touch. "If there is one thing bots are not good at, it's appearances."
"I gotcha. Do you have scissors, then?"
Straik remains calm, but he tilts his head back to gaze up at me. It's a weirdly vulnerable angle, his throat long and bare and blue as he extends his head back, and his horns brush against my clothes. Our eyes meet and I feel…strange. Vulnerable. I run my fingers through his hair again, waiting for his answer.
He watches me for a moment and then finally says, "You think I should trust you with another sharp object?"
"Well, we're on the same team now, aren't we?"
"Are we?" He blinks, and I notice how long his lashes are. Well, that's positively unfair.
I give him a quick smile. "Look at my options. I have you, or your mom, or I can strike out on my own and find some strangers to try and take me back to the Star. You're my best choice."
"And Dopekh."
Right. My “lover.” "Yup, him too."
"So what's to stop you from cutting my throat and taking over my crew?" It's said mildly, and I don't think he truly expects me to cut him open. He's just exploring the idea. It's almost like…foreplay, which is weird.
I flick a finger against one of those metal-plated horns. His are covered in elaborate symbols, but still manage to be shiny and distracting. "You think your crew would follow me if I murdered you? Doubtful. They'd throw me out of the airlock or something. So no, you and I are stuck together, I'm afraid, until we return to the Star."
"Sounds like it." He blinks up at me with those bemused, soft eyes, and then touches something on the underside of his desk. A drawer slides open, and there's a clutter of objects inside. Something that looks like a small space gun, a couple of knives, and then…another knife, this one with an odd handle. He pulls that particular one out then shuts the door again. "Will this work?"
"Well, if it doesn't, the good news is that your hair can't get much worse." I smile brightly at him and hold my hand out.
Straik snorts with amusement and only hesitates a moment before putting the end of the knife into my hand. "I must be three kinds of fool," he mutters. "Arming the angriest human I've ever met with a blade."
"Not that big of a fool," I offer, since I really am just trying to get on his good side. "And not everything I do is to attack you. But you have to admit, you gave me a pretty good reason to distrust you, don't you think? You cuffed me to your bed, naked, and tried to torture information out of me."
He sits upright, spinning in his chair to face me directly. If he had brows instead of that strange, hard plating that the blue aliens have on their foreheads, I have no doubt that his brows would be up. "Me? Might I point out that you stole into my quarters, and then you stabbed me when I tried to apprehend my stowaway. Please tell me how I should have handled that better."
I grab one arm of his chair and spin it around so he gives me his back. I set the knife down on the desk and then run my fingers through his hair again. "Keep facing this direction."
"So I don't see the knife when you cut my throat?"
"So I can cut your fucking hair, dipshit. It's all ragged back here." I scratch my nails against the shorn hair at the back of his scalp, and to my surprise, he gives a little shudder. Likes that, does he? I add it to my arsenal of seduction and scratch a little more, pretending not to notice when his tail flicks against the chair and my legs. "Do you have a preference as to how you want this to look?"