Alien Breeder’s Seed: A Scifi Alien Romance

by Tammy Walsh

“Hello?” her mom called from the kitchen. “Is everything okay?”

  Isabella still hadn’t decided how she would respond yet.

  “Yeah. Everything’s fine. I just… Never mind.”

  Esme turned back to whatever she was working on and hummed a happy tune to herself.

  “You don’t want Pop to know about this either, I take it?” Isabella said.

  I shook my head.

  “It’s better that way.”

  Isabella didn’t look so sure it was but she would follow my lead.

  “Then we’re going to have to get you upstairs. One of them could come wandering in here any moment. Let me grab the First Aid kit.”

  She opened a cabinet in the corner of the room and took down the little green box.

  She clutched it under one arm as she yanked on my forearm with her free hand.

  I couldn’t put my splintered hands down on the armrests to shove myself up onto my feet.

  I limped slightly—not from taking a direct injury to my legs but because the blows I received to my head made me a little dizzy when I walked.

  We headed up the stairs, made even more difficult by the fact I couldn’t grasp the handrail.

  A cool sweat broke across my brow by the time we reached the top of the stairs that had nothing to do with the exertion.

  It appeared the fight had taken more out of me than I realized.

  We got to the hallway we shared, with her room on one side, and mine on the other.

  She made to lead me into her room and I fought against her to head toward mine.

  “I don’t want to make a mess in your room,” I said.

  “It’s always a mess.”

  “I mean, I don’t want to get blood on your things.”

  “Better on my things than on my brother’s. He’s very touchy about his things.”

  “Then he’s going to really love what I did to his t-shirt.”

  Her eyes floated down to the tear along one side.

  “Now how did that happen?”

  “I’m not sure. Liam must have done it at some point.”

  Isabella pressed me against the wall and peered up at me.

  “Look, this whole thing is going to go a lot easier if you just let me take control.”

  “Control of what?”

  “Of taking care of you.”

  “What if your parents wander in and see we’re in your room?”

  “You think it would be better if it happened in my brother’s room instead?”

  I hesitated.

  Her eyes flashed victoriously.

  “Follow me and stop being a baby.”

  I groaned as she led me into her room.

  It was larger than mine, with an extra wardrobe along one wall.

  It was painted faded pink that might once have been described as vibrant.

  It wasn’t the color I would associate with Isabella, who struck me as a more down-to-earth earthy browns and forest greens kind of girl.

  But I guessed the little girl who grew up in this room had changed when she moved away to the city.

  She placed me in a wingbacked chair in the corner of her room.

  Then she dropped to her knees and opened the First Aid kit and rooted around inside it.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I don’t need medical attention.”

  She braced her hands on her hips.

  “Why is it every man doesn’t think he needs help when he needs it more than anyone else? Listen to me, buster, you’re getting my help whether you want it or not.”

  She leaned forward and pecked me on the nose.

  The instant her skin touched mine, there was another shock between us and a sharp crack that sounded loud in my ears—most likely because it occurred so close to my ears.

  My eyes lit up, and so did hers.

  Something was going on between us.

  We both knew that.

  Something neither of us could quite explain.

  “You’re going to get my help whether you want it or not,” Isabella said. “Now, open your hand.”

  “Which one?”

  “Either.”

  I extended my right hand to her like a flower opening first thing in the morning.

  She gasped when her eyes came to the shards of wood jutting from the soft skin of my palm.

  She tutted and began to pull the splinters out one by one and placed them on a piece of tissue on the floor.

  “You don’t need my help,” she chastised, shaking her head. “Just like a man.”

  I shut my eyes and let her get on with it.

  The first blow Liam had dealt me had been the strongest, but not the worst.

  It hit me so hard it made my neck turn sharply in its socket and if it wasn’t for the thick muscles on my shoulders, I thought he might have broken something.

  He might still have and my body hadn’t registered it yet.

  The second blow caught me across the temple and the softer flesh of my head.

  Due to my recent crash, it stood to do the most harm.

  The last thing I wanted was to lose the few memories I’d gained with Isabella the past couple of days.

  I never wanted to forget the softness of her skin, the feel of her lips against mine.

  The look in her eyes when I approached her.

  It was too valuable.

  I couldn’t lose those memories.

  Even right now, being in this room with her, and her treating my wounds…

  Another memory I would treasure for the rest of my life.

  She was silent as she plucked the thorns from one hand and then the other.

  Her eyes were intense and focused, and she yanked a splinter out with more aggression than necessary.

  “Ouch!” I said.

  “Sorry.”

  She grabbed a tissue and pressed it to my hand.

  A small drop of blood seeped across the tissue paper.

  “It was deep,” she said, not looking up at me.

  I could hear by the coarseness of her voice that she was upset.

  “What’s wrong?” I said.

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  “This shouldn’t be happening.”

  “What shouldn’t?”

  “I’ve never been interested in Liam. He never should have done this. He has no right to me. I never chose him. I would never choose him.”

  “You’re a gorgeous woman. Many men would want to be with you. I don’t blame him.”

  Her face snapped up to me.

  “You don’t?”

  I shook my head.

  “But he could have killed you,” she said.

  “He’s one of the few in town who sees you for who you really are. A beautiful woman with a lot to give. Everyone else is blind. And if an angel like you were to enter my life and I thought I had a chance to be with you… Well, there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to be with you.”

  “Even beat a guy with a piece of wood?”

  “No. I wouldn’t do that. If you told me I had no chance with you, I would accept it. Eventually. But I would try to convince you otherwise first.”

  “You’re not him.”

  “No. And that’s a good thing for the both of us.”

  She smiled, brightening.

  “But you don’t have to worry about me turning you down. But we still can’t let him get away with this. He’ll try it again and next time, he might be successful.”

  “He knows you don’t belong to him now. He’ll get over it.”

  “You don’t know him like I do. He’ll never stop, not until he gets what he wants.”

  “And are you going to give it to him?”

  “No.”

  I took her face in my hands.

  “He’s never coming between us. I won’t let him. I don’t care if he’s the sheriff or the mayor or the President of the United States. He can’t stop us from being together.”

  “You don’t know that. He could frame you for a crime you did
n’t commit. He could plant drugs on you. Anything to take you away from me.”

  The tears streamed down her cheeks and I kissed them into non-existence one by one.

  “Then we won’t stay here,” I said. “If we’re not here, he can’t do any of those things.”

  “You’re saying we should leave?”

  “Why not? Nothing is keeping us here. Your parents will be safe. Liam isn’t interested in hurting them. If he was, he could have done it years ago.”

  Isabella was conflicted.

  She could see the wisdom in my idea but something was holding her back.

  What was it she said earlier?

  About something bad happening to her friend when she encouraged her to approach a stranger?

  “I know it’s hard for you to trust new people,” I said. “But I’m not like other people. I don’t even know who I am. But I can remember, as time goes on. But those memories aren’t who I am. This is who I am.”

  I took her hand and placed it on my chest.

  “This is me. Maybe I’ll remember who I once was and maybe I won’t. But we’ll be together. If you want to be.”

  “I don’t want to run away.”

  “You’re not running away. You’re running toward something. Me. And the life we can share together.”

  She smiled, and even though it was broken, it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

  “This is nuts,” she said. “I hardly know you!”

  “I hardly know myself. But I’m willing to learn. Are you?”

  She snorted through tears that rolled down her face freely now.

  “We can go anywhere you want,” I said. “We’ll find jobs, get a home, and be happy.”

  “What’ll I tell my parents?”

  “That we eloped!” I said.

  She laughed and despite the tears, it was the happiest thing I had ever seen.

  “This is crazy!”

  “Maybe we’re both a little crazy.”

  She nodded and slid her hand through mine.

  “Maybe.”

  Then a fresh set of tears ran down her face.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” she said.

  I wiped the tears developing on her cheek.

  “You’ll never lose me. I’m yours. I’ve been yours ever since I fell from the sky.”

  She leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine.

  I could taste her salty tears on my lips and as she gave herself to me, I breathed her in and was consumed by her strong feminine scent.

  She rose and sat in my lap, straddling me like I was the chair.

  She pressed her light weight against me as she buried her lips on mine and the chair leaned back and creaked as our weight was combined.

  My cock grew ramrod hard and I didn’t even try to prevent it.

  It was what she wanted, I knew.

  It was what I wanted.

  Her hips ground on me, bucking slowly and sensuously, and when we weren’t kissing, her warm breath tickled my face.

  It was glorious.

  Then she kissed me down my cheeks and down my neck, and I felt each individual hair stand upright on my body at her gentle caress.

  Then she worked her way down my chest and flicked my nipples with her tongue.

  She looked at me while she did it, her big blue eyes so large they might have been the ocean and sucked me toward their crushing depths.

  And I was pleased to do so.

  I wanted to be crushed.

  I wanted her to destroy me.

  So long as she was wrapped around me, I would have accepted anything.

  I reached into her top and buried my face in her breasts.

  So warm.

  I tongued her bra aside to get at her nipple and flicked at it with my tongue.

  “Mm,” Isabella said, and she ground against me even harder.

  A knock came at the door.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Benjamin said.

  The words stuck in Isabella’s throat.

  “Okay. I’ll be right there. And Pop?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t knock on Clint’s door. He’s taking a nap. He set an alarm and will be up soon.”

  “All right.”

  Benjamin headed downstairs and the grimace melted from Isabella’s face.

  “We never seem to catch a break, do we?” Isabella said.

  I chuckled.

  “Every moment we’re together is a break to me, so these interruptions can keep on coming for all I care.”

  She beamed at me, dusted off her hands, and extended a hand to me.

  “Let’s go down to dinner. And try to keep your eyes off me. It’ll give the game away if they see you looking at me like that.”

  “The only way to stop me would be to take my eyes out.”

  “Then look all you want. I intend on giving them a lot more to see before much longer.”

  She approached the door but I stood in the middle of the room.

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  “I’ll, uh, catch up.”

  “Catch up?”

  I grimaced at her as her eyes drifted down to my groin and a smile lit up her face.

  “Nice to know I’ve still got it.”

  With me, she would always have it.

  If I went downstairs with this thing in my pants, my corner of the dining table would be several inches higher.

  “See you downstairs.”

  She kissed the palm of her hand and then patted me on the front of my pants.

  She gave me a wink and sashayed out of her room.

  I doubted my meal would still be warm by the time I calmed down.

  At least there was always dessert…

  Liam

  I threw my head back and downed the shot.

  I slammed a fist on the bar and hissed as it burned my throat on its way to the bottomless pit of my stomach.

  I’d downed half a dozen already and I had no intention of slowing down or stopping soon.

  “Another,” I snapped.

  Bill approached on the other side of the bar with a note of caution in his stance.

  He leaned forward and whispered so the other patrons couldn’t hear him.

  “Uh, Sheriff, I don’t think you should—”

  “I don’t pay you to think,” I growled. “I pay you to pour that liquid from that container into this one. Do you think you can handle that?”

  Bill still didn’t move.

  He’d been shooting me concerned glances all afternoon and was beginning to test my patience.

  “Fill it,” I ordered.

  The good thing about being a small-town sheriff was it made you the lord of the kingdom.

  Even if I didn’t own these people, I owned the quality of their lives.

  If they wanted peace, they needed to do what I said when I said it.

  Bill was in great danger if he thought he could do the exact opposite.

  He picked up the bottle from under the counter and filled my glass.

  He knew the rules.

  “Leave the bottle,” I said gruffly.

  He hesitated but did as I said.

  I needed the bottle.

  I had plenty to drink myself into a stupor about.

  The girl of my dreams had chosen someone else.

  A stranger.

  The antithesis of local law enforcement.

  I got the jump on him and he still got the better of me.

  I was the sheriff.

  These kinds of things weren’t supposed to happen.

  I was the guy in charge.

  I was the one everyone feared.

  And he’d pinned me to the wall and raised me as if I weighed less than an empty bottle.

  I should have pulled my pistol on him instead of reaching for the length of timber.

  I thought it would feel better to administer the injuries by hand.

  I’d been a fool.

  But how was I supposed to know how things would turn out?r />
  Someone slapped me on the back, jerking me from my self-pity and spilling my drink.

  “Hey Sheriff, how’re things hanging?”

  That was it.

  This was the final straw.

  I was at my wit’s end and I couldn’t take it anymore.

  The utter lack of fear.

  The lack of respect for my office.

  I leaped off the barstool and shoved the guy back.

  His jovial grin disappeared instantly and looked from me to Bill.

  “Don’t look at him!” I snapped. “Look at me! What am I? Invisible?”

  “No,” the guy said. “I… I didn’t mean anything by it. I just… wanted to see how you were doing, that’s all.”

  I didn’t want someone to wonder how I was doing.

  What did it matter to him anyway?

  I leaned in so close I could make out his whiteheads.

  “Who sent you in here?” I snapped.

  “Nobody. Look, I obviously rubbed you up the wrong way. I apologize. I’ll get my beer and leave you in peace.”

  By now, the billiard players had stopped with their games and watched the scene taking place.

  They were going to get a mouthful of lead if they weren’t careful.

  So, I’d better teach this one a lesson so the others didn’t get the same idea to interrupt me.

  One loss for the day was already one too many.

  I shoved the guy against the wall and seized him by the lapels of his shirt.

  Even up close I couldn’t identify him.

  None of his features jogged a memory.

  I pinned him against the wall and hefted him up, but could only manage a few inches.

  Try as I might, I couldn’t lift him bodily the way Clint had done with me.

  And him only with a single arm!

  How had he managed to do that?

  There was no way.

  It was physically impossible.

  Unless…

  Unless he was a genetically modified super soldier…

  Maybe my story, half-borrowed from last Friday night’s movie, wasn’t so far-fetched after all.

  Maybe he was a genetically engineered super-spy!

  Yes, it was beginning to make sense now.

  How else could he have got the better of me?

  How else could he have taken my beating and have nothing to show for it?

  Or maybe Isabella’s hoochie bestowed men with superpowers…

  That damn slut.

  I’d given her nothing but the best of me.

  I’d worked my way up to sheriff without a single qualification to my name.