by May Sage
Basically, she’d been a bitch. Eva growled in frustration for what must have been the thousandth time in four days.
“I came to see you because someone wanted to speak to you, Eva.”
She frowned; no one ever met her at work. Her circle of close friends was full of young people who were equally busy during the day; they met up for a drink once every couple of weeks or so. Her parents would have called if anything had happened.
Maybe…
Her heart beat fast, and she practically ran all the way to the lobby.
“Oh.”
The man waiting for her was a few things. Old, for one, and fat too. But he certainly wasn’t alien. Or sexy. Or called Zarken.
Something felt wrong. That first impression grew tenfold when she noticed two men sitting in the waiting room who didn’t seem to be patients at all; they wore suits similar to the old, fat stranger, and stood at the ready, like the members of the Secret Service at the White House.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Sorry, sir, I don’t believe we’re acquainted?”
“We aren’t, Miss Quill. If there’s a quiet place we could talk…”
Yeah, right. Not a chance.
She lifted a brow and crossed her arms.
“We can talk right here, sir.”
“Right. If you’re quite certain you would like your… colleagues and clients to know about this aspect of your personal life, we can, indeed, talk here.”
She stood her ground, shoulders back, chin high. If she could stupidly stand up to a damn K, she could certainly deal with a human guy. Particularly in public, in her place of work, where they could certainly not afford to do anything against her.
“If that was a threat, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
There was very little doubt that if the clients shamelessly listening in believed she was a xeno – an alien groupie - and complained, Dr. Frances might have to let her go as a result. But there were worse things than losing your job. Like following creepy guys who didn’t introduce themselves after seeing a Krinar, for example.
“There’s no need for this to become unpleasant, Miss Quill. You’ve spent some time with an individual of interest, and we’d like to know if he told you why he was in the city.”
“Oh, but there is every need for this to become unpleasant, Mr. Palmer.”
The silky smooth, decadently suave, soft voice came from behind her, although she was facing the entrance of the practice. She gasped and stiffened, shocked into place.
Zarken. She didn’t need to turn to know it was him. Good thing too, because she didn’t seem able to move in any case.
He was here.
What was he doing here?
“You’ve come to intimidate a defenseless woman,” he said coldly, so coldly she shivered. All the while creaming her panties, but that was neither here nor there. “No need to deny it, a phone call would have done, if that hadn’t been your intention.”
Zarken took a few steps forward, entering her field of vision.
He dazzled her just as much as he had the very first time she’d laid eyes on him. Although, just like he had at the club, he made her think of a predator.
“Yet you’re the one who’s scared right now. Tell me, Mr. Palmer: how does it feel?”
The man shifted on his feet, beads of sweat running on his forehead.
“This woman is one of us. You have no right to interfere with…”
Zarken laughed. “Go on. Recite my rights.”
The man shut his mouth.
“If any of you come within a hundred feet of Eva, any members of her family, or her friends in the future, I’ll kill your companions. Then your pets. I may spare the children, if I’m feeling generous. This is a called a vendetta. You wouldn’t like it.”
The man huffed and puffed, but turned on his heels and left with his tail between his legs.
Wise guy.
“Should that be hot?” a pretty woman in her mid-thirties, sitting in the waiting room, asked, of no one in particular.
They all knew it really shouldn’t be; but god help her, it was.
* * *
She didn’t think she’d ever felt that embarrassed; her boss was looking between her and her lover, eyes narrowed, like she was a naughty kid called into the headmaster’s office.
“We cannot afford any sort of scandal here at Frances and Burges,” she finally said, her tone stern, her nose wrinkled in disgust.
Yep. She was fired.
“I don’t believe there will be any issue with the government in the future,” Zarken said. “But I’m willing to set up a discreet guard around your practice to ensure that no resistance fighters or other undesirables may come anywhere near the practice ever again.”
Her boss was visibly displeased. He’d said all the right things, which meant that she was going to have to be more direct when she gave her the sack now. Something along the line of no xenos in my practice.
Eva sighed, and decided to spare her the trouble.
“I’ll be giving in my notice, Dr. Frances.”
The woman had been kind to her for the last two years; now she wouldn’t even meet her eyes.
Eva’s shoulders sagged as she saw herself through someone else’s eyes. The disgust. The betrayal.
To most people, Krinars were the enemy. If she’d been wired as a normal person, she’d think so too.
“Very well, Miss Quill.” No Eva now. “I’ll mail your last check, including your four weeks of severance. There’s no need to come back here.”
Fourteen
His
Eva didn’t say a thing at first, and Zarken was grateful for it. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d done so, but he felt like shouting. Breaking bones. Torturing the insignificant mortals who’d hurt his…
He stopped short of saying charl.
No, she was his doll, nothing more.
“Were you following me?” were the first words to cross her lips; they were already halfway to her apartment.
“No.” He could feel her gaze on him. “Just stalking you from a healthy distance,” he rectified. “You have a surveillance system set up at work and at home. I was alerted the instant your friend Mr. Palmer asked for you.”
Let her have a go at him for that, too.
A chuckle erupted, and he finally turned to her. Seeing her hiding her smile under her hand, he found all his animosity fading away, sucked right out of him.
“Because that’s much better?”
He shrugged unapologetically. “People took pictures of you. I figured something like that might happen.”
Disliking the dishonesty, he added, “Although, I may have stalked you, regardless.”
She’d stopped walking altogether now, fully concentrating on him. “Why?”
Why indeed. Why was he unable to sleep, to concentrate on his work, and constantly pulling up recordings of what she was doing? Why were his fingertips tracing the outline of her cheeks, caressing it, committing it to memory?
“One night- that wasn’t enough,” he told her. “I need more.”
She opened her mouth, which was painted blood red again.
“I…”
“I’m leaving in two weeks. I’ll need you until then.”
“Zarken, I just lost my job. I need to work out what to do next, not play hiding Pedro for two weeks.”
“You’ll do just fine. And I’ll pay for…”
Her voice changed, becoming a thundering grumble full of anger. “You think for even a second I’d take money to sleep with you? Go find yourself another whore.”
She stormed away, leaving him confused on the pavement for half a second. Then, he chuckled and ran after her, grabbing her hand to hold her back.
“See? That’s why I need you. You don’t take shit from me. Everyone- everyone does what I ask them to. Not you.”
Tugging on her arm until she was right against him, he whispered against her ear. “Don’t fret, doll. Yes, I wish to
fuck you until neither of us can walk, but that isn’t all. You entertain me. I like spending time with you. I’d like to hang out.”
Hang out - like a youthful fool, because that’s exactly what she’d reduced him to.
“I was going to say that, as you’ve had to quit your job because of me, it seemed only fair that I pay your bills until you’re back on your feet. And that offer stands whether or not you agree to spend time with me.”
She bit her lip.
“Let me take care of you.”
He needed to do it.
“I’m not a kept woman, Zarken. It’s just not me. And I’ll be fine - the practice is paying my severance. Plus I’ll have more time to work on illustrations. I get paid fairly well for those.”
He sighed, reluctantly letting it go. “Fair enough. But you will see me for two weeks, doll. Because you want to.”
“You know, I remember you saying I was presumptuous just a week ago.”
“It’s only presumptuous if I’m wrong.”
And he wasn’t, they both knew it.
She said yes. Of course she had. Spending two weeks with a gorgeous, sinfully sexy, skillful lover while pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist was hardly an ordeal.
He kissed her until she couldn’t breathe, then took her hand and merrily led her to her flat. No need to ask how he knew where it was.
“Is Julie in?”
She shook her head.
“No, at this time, she’ll be at work.”
He grinned; not his usual smirk, or his mysterious smile, but a grin that made him look almost approachable.
“Good.”
* * *
“Arrrhhh,” she yelled, tears in her eyes.
She was so, so close. Again. And again, he stopped thrusting right when she was about to come, like the sadist he was.
She yelled and shoved at his chest, making him laugh.
“You’re a monster.”
“Indubitably,” he replied casually, resuming a slow rhythm inside her.
She huffed, before putting her hand on her own clit, and rubbing it.
He grabbed both of her arms and pinned them on top of her head. “Tut, tut, tut, my beautiful doll. Your pleasure is mine to give.”
“Then fucking give it.”
“So impatient…”
His mouth went to her breast and nipped at her nipple, playfully, without breaking the skin, before sucking on it.
He didn’t bite her. He hadn’t since the first time. No need to ask why, give her reaction to it.
Eva clenched around his cock just remembering that time. Feeling it, he started to move impossibly hard and fast, making her pant, arch her hips, and start to see stars…
Until he stopped. Again.
“Why are you doing this!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Seriously, had removing fingernails and cutting tongues gone out of fashion? There were kinder ways to torture someone.
“Because I can, Eva,” he whispered. “Because you’re mine.”
The last word was a low growl in his chest.
For the twelfth time, his pace picked up, and he lifted her, impaling her on his hips at each movement. His balls slapped her ass; he stretched her to the max, his humongous cock now at home inside her. At long, long last, she screamed as he pushed her to the edge. And screamed. And screamed again.
Poor neighbours.
Zarken fucked her through her orgasm, making it last for what felt like hours.
She couldn’t move.
He’d ruined her. She knew she could be with no one else after this; no human would ever be anything but a tame, watered-down version of him. He was right. She was his.
Fifteen
Mother
“You should have seen it, girlie, the singer just removed his kilt and…” her mother trailed off, and her mouth fell open. “Oh my,” she said, lost for words, possibly for the very first time in her life.
Eva frowned, and twisted her head back.
Oh dear.
“I’m on Skype with my goddamned mother!” she yelled hysterically, her pitch reaching an all-time high.
Her delicious, six foot three, golden pile of sexy manliness had entered the room absolutely naked, his gigantic cock hard, proudly standing to attention.
She buried her head in her hands, shaking it left and right.
“So I see,” he replied casually, moving towards the wall.
Opening one of his annoying, undetectable doors, he pulled a beige t-shirt over his head, and put some boxers on.
She never found hers, so he’d created a chest of drawers where she kept her things.
She had basically lived at his place for the last week and a half because Julie was becoming a massive, and massively judgmental, pain in her ass. She’d reconcile with her after Zarken left.
Returning to the problem of the minute, she finally dared peek at her mom.
“Please tell me the image was cut off at the waist,” she begged.
“Nope.”
“Lie to me.”
“Nope. I refuse to deny seeing that. Oh, my darling, no wonder you weren’t much impressed with Scottish kilts. That is a man and a half, if you know what I mean. Is that your Krinar?”
She was going to die of embarrassment.
“Hello, Laura,” Zarken said, sitting beside her, and waving at her mother like it was the most natural thing in the universe.
Just to clarify: it wasn’t.
“I’m Eva’s Krinar, Zarken. Now, I must admit, I’m quite surprised she told you about me.”
Laura Quill beamed.
“There are mothers who make girls wear pearls and sweaters; I gave Eva her first fake ID as a eighteenth birthday present. If you’re old enough to enlist, you’re old enough for a few drinks, don’t you think?”
Zarken laughed good humoredly, like they just hadn’t entered an weird-ass reality where he was speaking to her mother.
“Very wise, Laura. The statistics show that nations which allow their youth to drink before twenty-one actually tend to have less alcohol-related incidents. In France, for example, it’s not uncommon for a parent to give watered down wine to a child at the table - therefore, adults who’ve just come of age don’t overindulge at the first chance.”
Just like that, Laura was won over. They discussed travels. Apparently, Zarken had done most countries on her mom’s bucket list. After fifteen minutes, Eva shook her head and left them to it, grabbing her drawing tablet and getting to work.
She’d started taking more orders now that she had enough time on her hands. When she’d told the couple of authors she generally worked with that she was going to start taking more commissions, they recommended her to a bunch of people - so many she now had a waiting list.
Eva knew how much time a cover took her, and she’d charged accordingly; now, with ten deposits in the bank and a handful of people who were ready to place an order as soon as she was done with her current projects, she realized something she wouldn’t have seen if she hadn’t been forced into it: she could do this. She could genuinely draw for a living. She would, in fact, earn more than she had at the dental practice, while doing what she loved.
“Eva?”
“Hm?”
She lifted her head, to find Zarken smiling indulgently; Laura was mirroring his expression through the computer screen.
“She’s always been like this - lost in her world, when she draws. About time you started to take your passion more seriously, girlie.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Your daughter is very talented.”
She held her tablet to her chest, protectively. She never let him watch what she was working on. Alright, she didn’t let him look at the final product either. She’d believed him occupied with Laura, but obviously, he’d peeked.
“I was saying goodbye, young lady. You have a good time, and don’t forget to use protection.”
“Don’t worry on that account, Laura. It is impossible for your daugh
ter to catch anything from me, and she can’t get pregnant naturally, either.”
“Oh, really? I looked it up online when Eva told me about you, but I couldn’t find a thing. Your kind have been very secretive.”
“You’re welcome to ask any questions, Laura. We’ll speak to you soon.”
“Bye bye!” she waved, before turning her camera off.
Finally, the nightmare ended.
“So, your mother is…” he searched his words. “A character.”
“A hippie. She’s been pro-Krinar from the start, especially after you banned the mass production of food.”
“Ah. That explains you.”
Eva shrugged. She hadn’t been raised to look at them like they ate children for breakfast, but she’d been seventeen when they’d arrived - she’d had plenty of time to make her own mind up and realize they were dangerous on her own. Especially when provoked.
Nothing she’d learned since the start of her affair with Zarken made her think otherwise.
“I wasn’t kidding by the way. You are talented.”
“It’s just a draft,” she grumbled uncomfortably.
He’d told her that his “entertainment” company included a number of artists and musicians a while back; she’d immediately clammed up. Ks seemed to do everything so perfectly, she didn’t want to show her doodles to a connoisseur.
“Do you really think I haven’t already looked at every single draft and completed illustration available online and on your computer?”
“You know, people aren’t supposed to be quite so smug about being stalkers.”
He shrugged. “At least I’m good at it. Plus, you want me to stalk you,” he added, dropping his lips on her neck and kissing it, slowly.
She’d stayed up late, until three in the morning, to catch her mother at eight - she always had a crazy schedule when she travelled, so they made these phone dates whenever they could catch each other. Since she’d resigned from Frances and Burges, Eva had become more flexible. But she was tired now, although those tender, feather light kisses made her wish she wasn’t.