The Heracian Affair

By Liv Olteano

Space Files R: Book One

Even years after Rizzo Berg’s lover and Dom died in combat, the memories torment him. Following a particularly disappointing date, Rizzo goes to sleep in his apartment only to wake up on a spaceship with tall, gorgeous, alien Captain Conrad D’Ollet of Heracia, a man so deliciously dominant Rizzo’s knees turn to jelly.

Apparently the Heracians need help, and Rizzo is a humanitarian through and through. Spending more time around Conrad is totally not one of the reasons he wants to lend a hand.

Soon Rizzo finds himself completely conquered and blissfully owned. But neither he nor Conrad is willing to risk his heart, let go of the past, and dare to believe in a future that won’t end in catastrophe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
• Release date: Mar 20, 2013
• ISBN: 9781623804350

Liv Olteano

Liv Olteano is a voracious reader, music lover, and coffee addict extraordinaire. And occasional geek. Okay, more than occasional. She believes stories are the best kind of magic there is. And life would be horrible without magic. Her hobbies include losing herself in the minds and souls of characters, giving up countless nights of sleep to get to know said characters, and trying to introduce them to the world. Sometimes they appreciate her efforts. The process would probably go quicker if they’d bring her a cup of coffee now and then when stopping by. Characters—what can you do, right? Liv has a penchant for quirky stories and is a reverent lover of diversity. She can be found loitering around the internet at odd hours and being generally awkward and goofy at all times. Stop by her website for the latest news or visit her blog for occasional rants. She also regularly spamificates Twitter and Facebook. For The Win. Be afraid. Be very afraid. Website: liv.liviaolteano.com Blog: blog.liviaolteano.com Twitter: @LiviaOlteano Facebook: www.facebook.com/LiviaOlteano

Book preview

yours.

Prologue

I STARED at his arm so tightly coiled around me, running my eyes down his bulging veins and the thick patch of hair covering dark skin. I liked bears as much as any other type, but Adam wasn’t doing it for me. His dick bulged in his pants beautifully and I found no reason at all not to give it a shot—again. Precisely because I had known even before undressing it wouldn’t work out, though he felt good enough buried inside me. He was trying hard. They always did. The less I responded, the harder they tried. Pounding someone into the middle of next week wasn’t as fun if the receptacle of your pleasure didn’t show much of their own.

The feeling of him invading me wasn’t turning me on, not really. In a half-hard, sort of complacent lump, my dick dangled between my legs and my stomach, not quite there and not quite absentee—the irony of it wasn’t lost on me. My knees were buried deep in the mattress and my forehead dug into the pillow. I saw his legs framing mine. I felt his pulse quicken. It wasn’t going to take him long. My gaze darted for the window, a colorful motel sign with flickering lights outside drawing my attention. The sky was a wild navy, close to black, as the colorful lights blinked on and off. Black, deep black eyes flashed through my mind and my insides clenched painfully, my heart lurching in my chest. Adam grunted, the squeeze finally toppling him over. Boredom with my life threatened to manifest through a gut-deep sigh. It itched to erupt. I squished it back down at the last moment. He was a good guy and I liked hanging out with him. I even enjoyed letting him fuck me, since he seemed so happy to be able to. I wasn’t cruel enough to mention my limp dick, but it flapped all shriveled and numb between us, an unflinching obstacle in our way. He probably thought I had some medical issue; his eyes were kind and brimming with feeling as he held me afterward. I enjoyed that too, being held. I liked the taste of his mouth when he kissed me, the smell of his skin as I nibbled on his neck. I enjoyed his voice as he talked me to sleep, the sound of him laughing when I said one half-assed thing or another.

In the morning I’d wake to an empty room, a note on the nightstand saying something had come up. It was too hard for him to face my lack of response—in the heat of night it could be lost between dark shadows. It would be easier to pretend. The glory of morning was merciless, though. Could he do anything better? Was there something in particular that did it for me? No. Didn’t I find him attractive? Of course I did. It just wasn’t there… the infamous it always missing. It bothered him that he couldn’t be it for me, and I hated myself for my impotence to enjoy him. He really was a good guy. We were going to break up in a week or so at most. I was really good at telling when that moment came. It hung between us like a colorful sign we both pretended wasn’t there. And just before breaking up, he’d try harder than ever, just to be sure we’d given this thing all we could, because he really liked me. So I knew it was time, that time again.

I woke up to the empty motel room—no surprise there. The note rested neatly on the nightstand, elegant writing explaining one emergency or the other. I didn’t bother to read it, but he had beautiful longhand. I took the time to admire that. I’d keep it as a memento, probably. I liked mementoes of all my failed attempts at it. They grounded me. Slumped on the bed, the sticky sensation in my body finally pushed out that soul-deep sigh. A shower, a bit of a shave, and a bite of last night’s pizza later, the usual image of Rizzo Berg greeted me in the mirror. I smiled ruefully, slicking back my hair. In the morning it was easy to fight away the memory of deep black eyes. But at night there was nowhere to hide, so I’d find someone new to try and dissolve my memories into.

As soon as darkness would fall, another unsuspecting victim would be human padding for my shield against the deep black.

Chapter One

"SO, YOU’RE into hiking?"

I sighed. Hiking, for freak’s sake! I was a city guy. Asphalt jungle was the wildest I could do. The man was a nature freak, worst kind. I liked my comfort, thank you very much! I liked my sofa, my high-count sheets, my gadgets, plumbing—you know, the better part of civilization. Why would I ever want to fight for my sleeping space with a rat or something? Live and let live. You stick to your area, leave the wild to stick to its own.

I discreetly took out my cell and texted Gena. Call me NOW or die!!!! was not our regular S.O.S. signal, but she’d get the message. Sure enough, the fake emergency call came. Sadly, I had to run. Could he call me again sometime? Sure, he could. But I’d block his number on my way out of the restaurant. Who came to a restaurant date in khakis anyway? I hit speed dial and settled into the cab. It took Gena about thirty seconds to answer, and she was laughing already.

Okay, lay it on me. Did he come wearing a clown nose?

Very funny. Khakis, Gena. Freaking khakis! And he’s a nature freak. Whatever were you thinking?

Her annoying laughter burst from the phone. The cabby actually peeked at me, grinning too. What the hell was so funny? I frowned.

Stop the cackling, woman, your kids are plenty traumatized as it is. What were you thinking when you set me up? Really, what sort of friend does that?

Her annoying laughter sounded even louder. The cabby snickered. Well, buddy, bad news, no tip for you.

If you don’t stop that I’m hanging up on you.

Okay, okay. See, Riz, the thing is I told him you’re a horrible person. Drop-dead gorgeous, but a horrible person. He wouldn’t hear of it. I think all that green has affected his brain or something.

I snorted. Even you think it’s freaky, admit it, and he’s your cousin. Who goes out in the wild to ‘experience the universe’? Seriously? Isn’t the universe going to stop by for tea and biscuits if you’re downtown? Jesus Christ.

She burst out laughing again. So did the cabby.

I sighed. Come over for beers to make it up to me. I don’t feel like contemplating this fiasco alone—you should share my misery.

I needed not to spend the night alone, and I didn’t feel like making an emergency booty call.

A small sigh came from the other end of the conversation. I’d love to, but Ben and the kids are doing pasta. Like, they’re cooking it themselves. Someone needs to be here and call the firefighters when they’re done.

Yeah, family stuff. My best friend Gena wasn’t the carefree awesome friend I’d known since we were teens. She was a responsible awesome woman now, with a family, white picket fence, and the works. There’d been times when I felt like she had walked out on me somehow. Which was, by and large, my main interaction with people—them walking out on me, me walking out on them. Sob story unfolding, that was me.

You should come over, Riz. I’ll make us something edible when they’re done with the impressionistic-slash-abstract cooking.

Yeah, right. Because her kids and I mixed like oil and water. No, thanks. I need to have a drink or something. Rain check, okay, honey?

Sure thing. Love you, heartless.

I snorted. Yeah, enough to sic nature freaks on me. Love you too, mini-me.

Nicknames and jokes, and a lot of memory lane, pretty much all we had left from our wild days. Nowadays she had kids running around the house, and I had dates with strange specimens wearing khakis. Sigh. There had been a time when she would have dropped everything to keep me company during the night. But now she trusted me to fill that time on my own, most likely with some hot stud. It had grown harder and harder to do the whole keep-my-body-busy-so-I-can-kill-my-mind trick.

Another night spent alone on my sofa with a glass (or twenty) of wine. Much better company than freaks, I huffed. Really, the khakis wouldn’t have been that bad. They made his eyes stand out, anyway. The nature-freak factor was there, but I could have gone camping into oblivion if I had to. He just… didn’t have it. Why waste the time on dating a couple of weeks to arrive at that conclusion? It led to nothing but aggravation anyway. I’d already set up a foolproof method of picking out things that wouldn’t work out, and I just avoided the incoming fiascos. If it wasn’t it, it was time wasted, his and mine. Unless we were talking one-night stand, of course—then it was only my time wasted, which was the point of the whole thing, after all.

A bubble bath was due. The ridiculously bubbly sort, chilly and fluffy on top and melting hot at heart; it would be the perfect haven. I could almost feel my bones melt away into