Page 31 of Rock Hard Alien

I gave him a big smile, pretending to be more upbeat than I felt. “We can do this. Together. Do you mind if I finish that korma?”

The C-suit arrived in a plain brown parcel that looked far too small to contain anything capable of disguising a gargoyle. The courier left without a word, which was fine by me. I didn't want to have to explain the huge alien in my cottage.

The garment inside was made from thin black fabric. It looked like a cross between a wetsuit and a pair of expensive tights. There were openings for two sets of arms, although a silver seam had sealed the lower pair.

Cairn poked it with one finger. ”You want me to wear this?”

“Only until we’re safely back here with my car.”

“It is too small.”

“It’s alien technology. I'm sure it’ll stretch.”

He lifted the garment from the box and held it against himself. It barely reached from his shoulders to his knees.

“This is undignified.”

“You’re the one who flew through Glasgow city centre without any trousers.”

“I was wearing my battle wrap.”

“Yes, and every person underneath you got an excellent view of it. I still don't know if whatever Pam did has erased all footage of you flying in broad daylight.”

Cairn sighed and put on the suit.

The fabric stretched further than seemed possible, sliding over his legs and battle wrap before sealing around his waist. He pushed his arms into the sleeves, then stared at the empty openings intended for an Albyan’s second pair.

“Maybe put your wings through those?” I suggested.

He gave me a look that would have turned a lesser stonemason to dust.

The wings had to be folded flat against his back. I helped ease the fabric over them, trying not to think about the warm texture of the thin membranes beneath my hands. Cairn’s breathing changed when I ran my palms along the struts to make sure nothing was trapped.

“Does that hurt?”

“No. It feels good. More than good.”

I resisted the urge to stroke his wings some more. We were on a tight schedule, or, in Cairn's case, in a tight suit.

His tail was an even bigger problem. In the end, he wrapped it twice around his waist before pulling the rest of the suit over it. The result gave him a strange bulge beneath his ribs.

“I look deformed.”

“You look like you swallowed a snake.”

He shot me a glare.

As soon as he'd pulled the hood over his head - I was amazed it fit over his horns - the C-suit shimmered.

Grey skin became warm brown. His horns disappeared beneath short dark hair, his wings vanished and the suit projected a black shirt over his chest, paired with jeans and heavy boots. Even the shape of his tail was gone.

A very tall, broad and ridiculously handsome human stood in my cottage.

I kind of hated it.

“Well?” he asked.

“You look wrong.”