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I Married an Alien Handyman: A Spicy, Steamy Romp Across Alien Galaxies

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by Nora Nolan




  I MARRIED AN ALIEN HANDYMAN

  Nora Nolan

  Copyright © 2019 by Nora Nolan

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by jkdesign4u

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, some strong language, power exchange, and sexual situations including anal play and themes of consensual dominance and submission. It is intended for mature readers. If such things offend you, please don’t continue any further. We’ll still be friends.

  Other Works by Nora Nolan

  Do you enjoy historical western romances with lots of sizzle, spunky heroines, and spanky alpha males? Do you love to curl up with page-turners full of laughs and mysteries and twists and tangles that leave you wanting more? If you do, then take a trip to Big Rock in the 1880’s in the wild, untamed Wyoming Territory. You might not want to come back!

  BIG ROCK ROMANCE SERIES

  Published by Blushing Books Publications

  Marriage by Mail

  A Badge in Big Rock

  Deputy's Dilemma

  And more coming soon!

  To keep up with Nora’s new releases, subscribe to her new release newsletter at

  https://www.noranolanbooks.com/new-release-newsletter

  Contents

  I MARRIED AN ALIEN HANDYMAN

  Other Works by Nora Nolan

  Chapter 1: Sally

  Chapter 2: Ella

  Chapter 3: Cheryl

  Chapter 4: Zoe

  Chapter 5: Ava

  Chapter 6: The Women

  Chapter 7: The Men

  Chapter 8: The Revelation

  Chapter 9: The Explanation

  Chapter 10: Sally and Sam

  Chapter 11: Ella and Mark

  Chapter 12: Cheryl and Paul

  Chapter 13: Zoe and Glen

  Chapter 14: Ava and Dan

  Chapter 15: Onboard Ship Day 1

  Chapter 16: Onboard ship Day 4

  Chapter 17: Onboard ship Day 8

  Chapter 18: Bargella Arrival

  Chapter 19: Preparation for the Ball

  Chapter 20: The Ball

  A Note from Nora

  Chapter 1: Sally

  Something caught Sally McAllister’s eye as she was leaving her neighborhood market – something that made her stop at the community bulletin board on the wall of the little entrance anteroom. An ad emitted a light that twinkled and twirled. How can that be? It was a freaking bulletin board with papers and pictures. How can anything made of paper reflect a light that twinkles and twirls? She rolled her shopping cart over to where she was standing directly in front of the ad for a handyman. It was a simple ad.

  HANDYMAN

  If it’s broken, I’ll fix it.

  Call Sam 501-555-3825

  Anytime 24/7

  How was it twirling? It was almost like a hologram – the kind she’d seen in the movies and on television. Sally was dying to know how they achieved that affect. As another customer was exiting, she got her attention. “Excuse me, look at this. Does it look odd to you?”

  The woman, in a business suit and heels and obviously in a hurry, took a quick look and said, “Hmm. I’m a bit dubious that any one handyman could fix anything you might have that’s broken. If I were you, I’d go online and get references before having someone in my house.”

  Sally gathered the woman didn’t see what she saw. “Yes, of course, thank you.”

  She looked back at the ad and her curiosity got the better of her. There were some things around her house that she’d put off having anyone work on. She had a leaky faucet in the second bath, but she just turned the water off under the lavatory because she lived alone and always used the master bath. Maybe it was time to get that fixed. If he did a good job at that, she might have him install the ceiling fan in the guest bedroom. The new and unopened ceiling fan box had been collecting dust for over a year.

  Instead of writing down the number, she looked around to see if anyone was looking, then she unpinned the ad and folded it, putting it in her purse. It stopped the holographic-like twirling when she touched it, but it still lit the inside of her bag with the shimmery glowing sparkle. She had to find out how it did that. Special paper, maybe?

  It was a fairly short drive to her suburban home: a typical house for the neighborhood, three bedrooms, two baths, on a half-acre wooded lot. There was an attached two-car garage that held some boxes and rickety shelves on the side furthest from the kitchen door. She figured that was one of the benefits of being single – she didn’t need both parking spots. On the down side, though, she didn’t have a boyfriend or husband who needed a parking spot. Emphasis on didn’t have a boyfriend or husband. And she hadn’t been laid in nearly a year. Her girlfriends encouraged her go to bars with them to get lucky for a night, but she wasn’t comfortable with that. Not that she was a prude, far from it, but bars just seemed so sleazy. They were way too obvious. You might as well walk in with a sign that says “Who wants to fuck me? Step right up, the line starts here.”

  She put her groceries away and then took a few minutes to prepare some beef stew while the water for a pot of tea heated in the tea kettle. When the kettle whistled and she poured the hot water into her grandmother’s old teapot that she treasured, her thoughts and her eyes were drawn back to her purse on the counter and the ad inside it. As the tea steeped, she took her purse to the kitchen table and sat down. Sally slowly unzipped her bag, and as she did, a glow escaped her bag. How was that happening? Was she really the only one who could see it? All she knew was that the woman at the store had apparently not seen it. It couldn’t have been a message just for her, could it? That’s just crazy. She zipped it closed again, then opened it only a fraction of an inch. Sure enough, shimmery light escaped.

  She took a deep breath and unzipped the bag completely. She was enraptured by the shimmering light given off by the paper ad. She pulled it from her purse and unfolded it, rereading the words of the ad. If it’s broken, I’ll fix it. It didn’t say if he specialized in plumbing or electrical work or building construction or even outside yard work. Maybe Sam was a jack of all trades and knew enough to be handy with all kinds of chores for homeowners.

  I have to call him. Maybe he can fix me, too. My heart’s been broken so many times it might be beyond repair. Oh, Doofus, stop that. Call him.

  She picked up her phone and dialed the number. It rang twice before the most mesmerizingly deep and silken voice answered. “This is Sam. How can I help you?”

  She was caught off guard by the hypnotizing voice and stammered as she thought of what to say. “Oh, uh, hi Sam, I’m Sally, um,” she spluttered, momentarily forgetting the purpose of the call. “I got your ad from the market bulletin board and I need to have some work done.”

  “I’m glad you called, I’ll be happy to do it. What work do you want done?”

  Anything and everything, as long as you talk while you do it. “I have some leaky plumbing in one of the baths, and I bought a ceiling fan I’d like to have installed. Do you do that? The ad’s not specific about what you can fix.”

  He gave a low chuckle that she heard more with her lady parts than she did with her ears. “Yes, I can do that and more. Whatever you need. I’m free now. What’s your address?

  She spluttered again. “Oh, well, it’s late Friday afternoon. Do you really want to come n
ow? It can wait until Monday.” Oh, please come now. I have to see the face and body that belong to your voice.

  “I’d hate to make you wait. I’m happy to come now. What’s the address?”

  “Will you charge me a weekend or after-hour price?”

  “No, ma’am. I promise you’ll be happy with the work and the price. I guarantee it.”

  Oh, that voice. The words were a little cocky, but the voice and delivery didn’t sound arrogant at all. She gave him the address.

  “I’m about twenty-five minutes from there. I’ll see you soon.”

  He hung up and she sat there looking at the cell phone in her hand. It rang again.

  “Hello?” Please be Sam.

  It was her friend Zoe. “Hey girl, we’re heading out to McCool’s for happy hour. Wanna go? Ella’s still sick and I need a bigger posse with me.”

  “Can’t talk now, but no. I’ve got a handyman coming over to fix some stuff.”

  “Tonight? Now? That’ll cost a fortune.”

  “He said it wouldn’t. I need to go, though.”

  “Okay. I’ll text you if we leave there, in case you want to join us later.”

  “Good, thanks. Luvyabye!” It was the way the girlfriends ended all their calls.

  Sally jumped up and took a quick shower. He’s a handyman, for Pete’s sake. Why are you showering? She answered her own thoughts out loud. “Because of that voice.”

  She was out of the shower and had her hair blown nearly dry in just a few minutes. In her closet she found her favorite summer sweater and a flippy skirt that she knew flattered her legs. She hopped into some cute casual sandals, thinking how serendipitous it was that she’d just gotten a mani-pedi the day before. She ran back in the bathroom to put on makeup. Makeup? He’s a freaking handyman, not a date! And you don’t even know what he looks like – he could be a troll. Oh, who am I kidding? With that voice, I could just keep my eyes closed and let him talk dirty. She decided on just a touch of mascara on the tips of her lashes and a light blush. No lipstick, just a light balm. She pronounced herself ready just as she heard his truck driving into the driveway. The doorbell rang.

  As she walked to the door, she caught sight of his truck through the bay window in the kitchen. It was white, huge, and clean, outfitted with a couple of ladders and had built-in tool chests and lettering on the side that she couldn’t read from that angle. Well, that bodes well. It’s a nice truck, so he must be good at what he does. That must represent a fortune in automobile and tools. And it looks spotless. Shows pride of ownership. I like that.

  She opened her door and was eye to mid torso with Sam. How tall is he? Her eyes slowly ran up his body to finally meet his deep-set eyes. They were a piercing dark green framed by long black lashes under thick wide eyebrows, and she instantly wondered if they could see her thoughts. It seemed so. He stood just outside her door, leaning on the brick wall of her entryway, in a casual slouch that spoke volumes in the language of confidence. This was a man who knew the effect he had on women. She’d once worked with a man who was six feet six inches tall, and Sam was taller than that, even with the slouching posture. He had to be several inches taller. He filled her whole doorway, in height and breadth. He had impossibly wide shoulders under that white t-shirt. And he was impossibly muscular. Oh sweet Lord, thank you for men who look like this.

  His voice was deeper than any she’d heard, and even smoother than he sounded on the phone. “You must be Sally. I’m Sam. Okay if I come on in?”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” she said as she got out of the way. She had to make herself as small as she could against the wall of the entry hall so he could come in, even with him holding his tool box behind his back.

  “I brought in the plumbing tools first. Want to show me that leak?”

  “Oh, yeah, yes, this way.” She led him into the second bathroom. “It’s been turned off at the valve underneath for a long time. I don’t entertain, so this room doesn’t get used much.”

  “All right, let me look. What made you want to get it fixed now?”

  She wasn’t sure what to say. Your ad made me call and your voice made my panties wet. “I couldn’t resist your ad. It intrigued me.”

  He smiled, showing perfect white teeth. “Can’t beat effective advertising, I guess.”

  “Yeah, how did you do that? How did you make it shimmer like that?”

  “Shimmer? It was just a print ad. Must have been a trick of the sun.”

  She eyed him, not knowing how to react. Did I imagine it? I mean, the other woman didn’t see it. Let it pass. It’s probably my imagination.

  “Sally, you not only need this leak fixed, but you need for me to fix the damage to the wood below it. Look. This floor’s rotten where it must have leaked for so long. You’re lucky you didn’t have a mold problem.”

  She looked where he was pointing and sighed with dismay. “Oh, no. I guess you can do that, too?”

  “I can. I can come back tomorrow with some scrap wood that’ll fit, and some water-resistant paint specially made for bathrooms. Wouldn’t hurt to paint it with that.”

  Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. “I hate to ask you to come back.”

  One side of his mouth curled up just a fraction. She thought it looked like he was smirking at her thoughts, but that was just silly.

  “Oh, I don’t mind at all. Don’t worry, I won’t even charge you for it.”

  Hell, I’d pay double. “Oh, no, I couldn’t let you do that.” Were his eyes laughing at her?

  “I need to run back out to the truck and get a bucket. I’ll be right back.”

  “Wait! I have one here in my laundry room – let me get it.” It was just around the corner and she was back with it in no time.

  When his hand touched hers on the bucket handle as he took it from her, she felt the spark. No, that wasn’t right. It was more than a spark. She felt it all throughout her body and it wasn’t just a static charge. It was a tingling warmth that reminded her of the shimmering light of his ad. It was as though that light traveled through her at his touch. He pulled the bucket from her hand, thanking her for fetching it. She felt a definite loss at the withdrawal of his hand.

  “This is going to take a while to fix. If you want to go and do something else, I’ll let you know when I’m done. Is it all right if I use that towel?”

  “Of course! And, yes, I do have some things to do.”

  She walked out of the bathroom, then practically ran to the master suite. She stripped her bed and put clean sheets on it faster than she ever had before. As she remade the bed, she wondered if he had a specially made bed to fit him. She was glad she had a king-sized bed, but it looked awfully small in comparison to Sam. She quickly tidied up the dirty things on the floor and swiped the dust off the furniture with a dirty shirt. Now, that looks presentable. One final touch – she closed the blinds and curtains, then switched on the bedside lamp and turned off the overhead light. Nice ambience. Now how am I going to get him in here? I’m past even caring that he’s a stranger. She was undeniably drawn to him, and she might as well admit it to herself. That thought made her smile. What would her friends think of this development?

  Zoe would love it. She was a much freer soul, at least where her sex life was concerned. Quite adventurous, in Sally’s opinion, far more so than she. Zoe was a bit on the darker side, with darker desires than Sally had. Zoe had a previous boyfriend who introduced her to some aspects of BDSM, like being tied up, rough sex, obedience games, and being punished. She loved sex on the rough side with a demanding, dominant man. She loved a bad boy, or at least thought she would. Ever since that boyfriend, she’d tried to find another such man, and she looked mostly for them in bars. No luck, though.

  In the kitchen, Sally pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses. Or would he prefer beer? Or iced tea, after working so much? His body was such a perfect specimen, maybe he didn’t even drink. I better make a pitcher of tea, just in case. She checked the refrigerator to see what she could scrounge u
p for supper. Maybe she could invite him to stay and eat since it was already so late. That might keep him there longer.

  As she thought of him staying later than needed for the amount of work that needed to be done, she realized she’d forgotten to clean the master bath. A little shriek escaped her, and she ran back into the bathroom to pick up her mess. She scrubbed the countertop and lavatory and wiped the shower doors dry, then threw all the dirty towels in the hamper. She set out fresh clean towels on the rods. After she cleaned the mirror, she gave the toilet a quick once-over, double checking how it looked with the seat lifted. Sometimes she forgot to clean there. After all, there hadn’t been a man around there in a long time. A really long time.

  Back in the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of wine and sat down at the table to wait. She looked for Sam’s ad again, but couldn’t find it. It was right here on the table. Did I throw it away? She checked the trash can, but there was no sign of it. Sally thought maybe it was in her purse, but it wasn’t. That’s odd. What could I have done with it?

  It was then that Sam walked into the small kitchen, virtually filling it up. He made Sally feel like small child, looking up at a grownup. Or more on point, a grown woman looking up at a giant Greek god. He was even sexier than she remembered. The phrase “tall, dark, and handsome” had never been more apt.

  “I fixed the problem. Do you want to come check it?” He smiled at her and motioned toward the bathroom. She melted a little bit. And she felt it drip into her panties.

  “Oh, sure, yes,” she said, rising from the table and following him. Oh, dear Lord, he looks just as good from this side. I bet he has to have his clothes specially ordered. I doubt if even the big and tall stores carry sizes like this.

  In the bathroom, he turned on the faucet and showed her it wasn’t leaking below anymore as he explained what had been wrong and how he fixed it. She barely caught his message – she was listening to the voice, not the words.

 

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