Mate for the Alien P*rn Star

SERIES: Sagittarius Quadrant
BOOK: 2 of 2
STANDALONE? Yes
TROPES: Fish Out of Water, One Night Stand, Sex Work, Survival, Water Planet, Accidental Mate Bond, Sex First Feelings Later, Hidden Identity, Rich/Poor Dynamics, Kidnapping, Pirates, Interstellar Cruise Ship, Forced Proximity, Female Friendship, BDSM, Celebrity/Ordinary Person 

One night wasn't supposed to last forever.

Lied to and cheated on by her ex, Lacey wants to meet someone who will make her forget all about her heartbreak for one night. One filthy night. A dancer on the luxury space cruise liner Miss Conduct, she has her pick of partners alien and human, but no one at the nightclub seems to pique her interest… until she meets a drop-dead gorgeous alien with shimmering scales.

Auren is a Rounaii, a nonbinary alien species, on holiday in space, far away from prying eyes at home—and exactly where they need to be to meet an enchanting little human female who instantly captivates them. Their instant attraction feels like fate. But the night’s bliss is shattered the morning after when the evacuation alarms blare. One thrilling obstacle after another follows on the pair’s heels, from escaping a doomed ship to being held for ransom by space pirates—pirates who are very interested in what Auren does for a living.

Can a one-night stand gone awry blossom into something meaningful and long-lasting for Lacey and Auren, or will the differences between humans and Rounaii prove too great an obstacle for the pair to overcome?

Mate for the Alien P*rn Star is an LGBTQIA+ alien romance featuring a bisexual human woman and a nonbinary alien love interest. Mate for the Alien P*rn Star was previously published as a novella in the Claimed Among the Stars anthology and has been expanded with over 30K of new content to become a full-length novel. A content guide is available for readers with sensitivities on the author's website at www.alexisbosborne.com

Lacey gave into the pounding bass that beat the busy nightclub’s tempo up through her feet and into her bones as she surveyed the room’s offerings over the rim of her cocktail. The music pulsed inside of her, loosening the day’s tension. It had been a shitty month, and she needed this.

“How about him?” Meg had to yell over the song, pointing with a jerk of her head. Her black curls bounced across her shoulders with the movement. 

Looking to where Meg pointed, Lacey glanced through the crowd at the Tou’de’nan male and studied him. He was beautiful. All the Tou’de’nan were with their angular humanoid features, gold-dusted skin, and lean, muscular builds. And those kaleidoscopic eyes that seemed to trap you in their gaze? They were appealing to the human eye, and they took full advantage of that fact.

She’d never liked them. Something about them seemed wrong. “Too stuck up.” Lacey shook her head and turned, her hips swaying and her drink sloshing over the rim as she danced in place.

Meg downed half her drink in one gulp then smacked her glossy lips together. “You’re trying to get laid, not get married.”

“I know, but I don’t want a repeat of Dan.” 

That hollow feeling in her stomach was back. It sucked at her like an angry void. Maybe this was a mistake. It had been a month, but clearly she wasn’t ready to move on yet if she was having this much trouble picking out a one-night stand. That’s what the Lotus Lounge was for. It was why everyone was here tonight.

“Fucking Dan. Good riddance to his stupid ass. I never liked him. Oooh, how about her? She’s totally your type.”  

Lacey followed her friend’s head bob, her attention stopping at the sight of the woman with the rainbow-colored hair. Her bleach blonde hair was streaked with all the colors of an electric rainbow and piled up in a messy up-do of curls that threatened to fall at any moment. The woman was dancing, her hips shimmying with more effort than skill. But that didn’t stop her from enjoying herself. The tiny black dress she wore split up to the hip, showing a flash of tattoo-covered thigh. Pouty, kissable lips were coated in a thick layer of holographic lip gloss. 

“She’s gorgeous, but….” The thought of approaching her made Lacey break out into a fine sweat. Why was hitting on women so much more intimidating than flirting with men?

Meg shook her head. “Anyone here would be lucky to have you. You know what your problem is? You don’t think you’re good enough, but you fucking are.” She gestured around the room with her empty glass. “And Dan can go get fucked. You were too good for him, anyway.”

Dan had called her a cold fish between the sheets after she’d broken up with him, and he’d understood that no amount of groveling would make her take his cheating ass back. Even though she knew his words were petty vengeance, they still stung.

She had fantasies. She knew how to have fun. And tonight she meant to prove it. She clenched at the thought. She ached to be filled. To be fucked into the mattress until her eyes unfocused and her toes curled with pleasure. To do something different. Something new.

Her anger had simmered into something incandescent. She was going to find someone to sleep with tonight. She would cum so hard she almost blacked out, and then she’d move on from all the Dans of the universe for good.

“Hmm… okay,” Meg said. “That one?”

She followed to where her friend was pointing, eyes widening at the sight of the Ma’arat male who towered over the surrounding crowd. Long, curving horns swept back from the gray male’s head on either side of a braided mohawk.

“And get stabbed in the eye when I roll over in my sleep?”

Not that the male wasn’t tempting. He looked like he could pin a woman against the wall with just his hips and the force of his thrusting.

Meg wiggled her empty glass in the air above her head. “We need to loosen you up. Let’s do shots!” 

Sipping on her drink so she didn’t lose more of it to the floor as they made their way to the bar, Lacey followed Meg through the crowd.

At the counter, they snuck into a spot and leaned on it as they waited for the bar-bot to get to them. Its mechanical arms grabbed bottles, upending them into glasses one after another as it mixed the pre-programmed drinks and served a swarm of patrons.

Meg nudged her empty glass toward the back of the bar top then turned around so she could scan the people behind them. She propped one elbow on the sticky countertop. “We can just dance and have fun. You don’t have to do anything.”

Lacey swallowed hard, her fingers tightening on the glass she held. Her mixed drink was getting warm and watered down, the taste of the bottom shelf alcohol becoming more apparent through the masking layers of the artificially fruity mixer.

Thoughts of Dan, the memory of his back and buttocks flexing as he fucked the new dancer, caught in the act when she came home early from a lousy shift, firmed her resolve. She was done with cheating, lying boyfriends. Everyone else had casual fun. Why shouldn’t she? Just because she didn’t want another relationship right now didn’t mean she shouldn’t enjoy herself. She was still young. She should enjoy herself, not sit up in her tiny crew cabin all alone or work extra shifts so she didn’t have to spend another evening alone with her thoughts.

The remaining bits of ice in her glass clinked as she raised it to her lips, threw her head back, and downed it. She slammed the empty glass down on the bar top. “I want to.”

Her body throbbed in agreement. How long had it been since she’d had an orgasm with a partner instead of just finishing things later when Dan wasn’t around?

Meg blinked wide, brown eyes and smiled, tapped her wrist implant against the payment circle, snagged their shots, and handed one to Lacey. Clear booze threatened to spill over the rim. Careful not to drop the small glass, Lacey took hers and the two girls clinked them together.

“To getting laid tonight!” Meg shouted. 

A furious blush crept up Lacey’s face and neck, but she smiled. In unison, they put the tiny shot glasses to their lips and tipped them back, swallowing the contents in one go.

“Woo!” Meg grabbed the empty glass from her and put both of them on the bar top, took Lacey by the hand, and pulled her back into the middle of the club. “Let’s dance!”

In the center, colored lights moved over them from an overhead projector. Dots and streaks of color washed over everything. Suspended planters let flowering vines drip down the rim of their pots.

Dancing was something she could do in her sleep. Finding the beat and syncing with the rhythm, Lacey raised her arms up into the air and swayed with it. The bass thrummed through her until the sound of it drowned out her own heartbeat. People around them pressed, ebbing and flowing like the tide. 

Closing her eyes, Lacey gave into the music and danced. Her hands skimmed over her body before rising into the air again. The song changed, and she got lost in that one too. The heat of so many bodies packed into such a small place—combined with the liquor—made the taut coil inside of her relax. 

Someone brushed against her butt a little too long to just be passing by. Eyes cracked open, she danced in a quarter-circle until she could see who was touching her.

The man was attractive, and he smiled as he looked her up and down, his eyes settling on her cleavage for an acceptable amount of time before he glanced at her face again. But his golden tan skin, cropped hair, and hazel eyes reminded her too much of her cheating ex. The wash of revulsion was instantaneous.

Glancing to the side, she found Meg wrapped around the Ma’arat male like an octopus. If the petite woman could have climbed him like a tree in those heels, she probably would have done so already. One of his enormous hands completely covered her ass where he pressed her tight against him as they danced together.

I’m on my own.

She looked at the man who was dancing in place behind her. He’d taken a half-step back to give her space to choose.

“I have to pee!” she shouted over the music, lying to spare him the sting of rejection. If she said she needed a drink, he might take that as an invitation to follow her to the bar. The bathroom was a safer bet. If he followed her, then she knew he was a creep for sure.

Peeling away from him, she wove through the swaying crowd and headed toward the bathroom. If she was on her own for the rest of the night, then she needed liquid courage. She was far too sober to be brave.

When there was enough distance and dancers between them, she veered left to make a circuitous path to the bar. The jerky movement sent her right into the path of someone backing up.

The shock of slamming into a person with her entire body startled her. “I’m so sorry!”

They turned, and she saw that the front of their gauzy silver button-up was stained dark across their chest. Glancing between their ruined shirt and the empty glass in their hand, she grew mortified. A bead of their drink rolled down one of their knuckles before dripping onto the dancefloor.

Lacey watched it drop, horrified. “Let me buy you another drink… oh my stars, your shirt…”

The fabric looked expensive. Difficult to clean. She’d probably ruined it. How much was it going to cost her to replace it? Likely an entire week of tips. The cruise ship company didn’t exactly pay high wages, and the guests ranged from well-off to ridiculously wealthy. That shirt might cost more than her entire paycheck.

“Most people don’t flirt with me by dousing me with my drink,” they said, the corner of one mouth lifting in a smirk. They brushed the droplets of amber liquid off their front, looking her up and down.

She didn’t feel the same creeping revulsion that she had with the man who reminded her of Dan. Their pale skin wasn’t picking up the projector’s lights like she’d first thought. It was iridescent. Hues of blue, purple, and pink moved with the shifting light. Fine scales interlocked, and a long head fin draped down over one shoulder like hair. The silver shirt was only halfway buttoned, showing off a flat chest with a trim waist. They wore a pair of tight black pants that were so form-fitted they could have been a second skin.

What is a Rounaii doing this deep into human territory? The nonbinary race didn’t care to interact with humans very much. Too many prejudices and expectations for a race that didn’t conform to the tidy boxes that humans preferred.

Snapping out of her open-mouthed staring, she remembered that she’d been in the middle of apologizing. “I’m so sorry. The bar-bot has seltzer. If you give me your shirt, I’m sure I can fix it.”

Maybe. If it wasn’t silk or some alien equivalent. Fuck my life. If they complained to the ship, she could get a point for this. How many extra shifts would it take her to wipe that off her record?

They raised a brow ridge, their smirk adding a sinful edge to their overall look. An earring dangled from one lobe, and they’d lined their eyes with black liner. Their lips wore a subtle shade of blush and shone with a hint of clear gloss.

“Trying to get me undressed already?” They leaned in, closing the distance between them. Lips brushed against the shell of her ear, sending a shiver of arousal through her. “All you had to do was ask,” they purred over the music, their breath warm against the side of her face.

She squirmed in place, feeling the creep of arousal in her panties. “I didn’t… That’s…” It wasn’t what she’d meant, but now that they’d said it, it was all she could think about.

A hand came up to settle on the small of her back, urging her to turn. Propelled forward, they walked at her side and herded her toward the bar. The bar was still packed, the bar-bot spitting out orders as fast as its processor could manage. Its eight metal arms worked tirelessly, making drink after drink.

The Rounaii stood at her back, nearly caging her against the glossy wood countertop. They’d removed their hand from her waist, but she could still feel their presence behind her. Even if she closed her eyes, she’d know they were there. Some people had a way of commanding every room they entered like that.

The bar-bot worked its way down the queue of orders.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Auren. What’s yours?”

She rolled their name around in her mind before answering. “I’m Lacey.”

“Lacey,” they drawled, stretching the word out so much that the translator glitched. For a moment, she heard it in their alien language underneath the common their translator spat out. 

Auren moved a hand up to her arm and fingered her off-the-shoulder strap. Black lace overlaid nude satin. The dress—borrowed from Meg—clung to her curves and barely covered her ass. The front dipped in a sweetheart neckline, showing off her ample cleavage. It was the perfect ‘I’m here to get some’ outfit, as her best friend had said when the girls were getting ready for their evening of debauchery.

“Very appropriate.” Auren rubbed the lace between their thumb and index finger. 

They made it to the bar as the bar-bot finished another drink. The ordering pad embedded in the countertop lit up. It saved her from having to think up a reply as she glanced at the menu. Reading through it, she found the seltzer and ordered the largest size they offered. 

There had to be a rag or towel somewhere. Scanning the area behind the bar, she didn’t see one. The cleaner bots had to use something, though. She’d find it. Maybe there was a closet by the bathrooms she could raid. 

“A double of Tinctra, neat,” Auren said. 

Hesitating, Lacey remembered she’d promised to replace their drink. She had gotten so focused on getting the stain out of their shirt that she’d forgotten. “Right. Of course. That’s a type of…” 

“Whiskey.” 

Flipping through to the whiskey section, she scanned for the one they’d mentioned. As she scrolled, she watched the prices climb until it hit the end of the double digits. 

85 credits. Shit. A cold bead of sweat broke out on her forehead. With a trembling finger, she added it to her order and navigated to the payment screen. A hand on hers stopped her from completing the request. 

“What about you?” Auren asked, leaning close to be heard over the noise. Their fingers curled around her hand, turning it over to expose her wrist. 

Lacey swallowed and pasted a smile on her face, looking over her shoulder. “I’m fine.” It was probably time to switch to water anyway. After thirty, the hangovers just weren’t worth it.

Auren ran a thumb over her knuckles, not letting go of her, as they watched her add a glass of water to their order with her free hand. Her heart stuttered in her chest as if it wasn’t her hand being stroked but her sex. When she got to the checkout screen, she fished her datapad out of her bra to pay. Auren slapped their other hand down on the bar, caging her against it.

Pressed flush against her backside, she was completely aware of them. They were taller than her, with a lean build that promised a hidden strength instead of showy muscles. The chilled wetness of their stained shirt soaked through the thin fabric of her dress. She’d have to get it cleaned before she returned it. It was going to smell like whiskey.

This proximity was more than forced closeness because of the noisiness of the club. The feel of them, their pelvis pressed against her butt, sent her heart racing. That pulsing beat traveled lower, settling between her thighs.

They shifted forward, pressing tighter against her, and waved their hand over the reader. It beeped as it took the payment from Auren’s dermal implant. Their order went into the queue.

“Oh! You didn’t have to pay.” She hadn’t expected them to replace the drink she’d spilled on their shirt.

The fingers that stroked her knuckles shifted, and then a thumb traced her palm. Leaning into the press of their bodies, she let her sentence go unfinished. That hand moved higher, tracing an invisible line up her arm. It rubbed the divot of her elbow, then inched up and gripped her by the bicep. Her eyes slid closed of their own volition.

Their other hand shifted off the counter, and then cool fingers brushed against her neck. They pulled her hair to the side and bent their mouth down to her ear. She shivered, her nipples pebbling.

“Do you know how Rounaii mate?” 

Cracking heavy-lidded eyes open, she looked up at them. The angle was awkward, but the sight was worth it. Kohl-rimmed eyes stared down at her. 

“Y-yes.” She’d heard the rumors.

“Your room or mine?” Auren asked. 

“Yours.” She didn’t even have to think about her response. Her room was out of the question. Guests weren’t allowed in crew quarters. But there was no rule that kept crew members from being invited back to a guest’s suite.

Auren nodded once, then slid their hand down her nape and back. It settled on her hip, the fingers curling tight. They pulled her away from the bar and tucked her into their side, that hand keeping her pressed flush against them even though it made the walk awkward because their strides weren’t matched.

The possessive gesture should have offended her. Instead, she trembled with excitement. Arousal slicked her panties against her flushed mound, the fabric sticking against her and pulling with every step.

“What about your drink?” she asked.

The whiskey. The seltzer. Their stained shirt. Glancing back at the bar, she saw the bar-bot set their order down. After a moment, the crowd swallowed up the space they’d just occupied. The bouncer barely paid them any notice as they left the club, the double doors shutting out the worst of the club’s noise behind them.

“Don’t need it. Not when your pheromones smell so damn sweet.” The fingers on her hip tightened, pressing divots into her skin.

An embarrassed blush heated her skin again, but her traitorous body squeezed in response. Lacey ducked her head from the amused attention of the few guests and staff who moved up and down the hallway and had overheard them.

At the bank of elevators, Auren hit the up button that would take them to the floors with guest rooms. They waited for the elevator in silence. Lacey’s heart was beating such a wild rhythm in her chest that she was certain everyone could hear it.

The elevator door opened, and they ushered her inside. Auren made the floor selection then moved them toward the back. The guest elevators were made of clear plasticine shaped like a bubble. She always loved riding in them whenever she got the chance.

The ship was always beautiful, but at night it was spectacular. An artist had painted murals on the walls of the atrium depicting scenes of the various planets, moons, and orbiting space stations the ship visited. The dome at the top of the atrium let viewers glimpse outer space. Lit sconces, flickering with digitized fire, lined the walls. Even with her back turned to it, she could still see it reflected in the elevator’s curved sides.

The elevator stopped, doors opening, but Auren didn’t move. Passengers entered, made their selections, and waited. It traveled to another floor, pausing only to pick up more riders before continuing its ascent.

Auren dipped their head toward her and whispered into her ear, “I bet you taste as sweet as you smell.”