Magnum: Stargazer Alien Mail Order Brides (Intergalactic Dating Agency)

by Tasha Black

The other four headed down the curving stair, Rima and Magnum paused before the door to the women’s rooms where they would be staying the night.

  “Love you, Rima,” Posey said softly.

  “Love you too, Posey,” Rima said with a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

  Rima and Magnum continued into the women’s common room to the sound of Posey’s heels clicking down the stairs until they disappeared. Posey and Bond would be spending the night downstairs in the men’s rooms.

  The door shut behind Magnum and just like that, there they were, alone.

  Suddenly Rima felt as shy as the first time, in spite of the fact that they had been all over each other since then. They had made love outside, in her reading nook, in the cabins, anyplace and anytime they could get away from the others.

  “It is different now,” Magnum noted, gazing down at her with serious eyes.

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  He bent to kiss her and her happiness was so intense she felt she could fly away.

  He led her to her room.

  The curved wall of glass showed them the view of the pond, the moon and silhouettes of the pine trees reflected in its still surface.

  “May I help you with your dress?” he asked politely.

  “Yes, please,” she smiled.

  Magnum moved behind her and unzipped the gown, pushing it over her shoulders until it slid to the ground.

  She stepped out of it and he draped it carefully on the chair, then stood to look at her.

  “Oh, Rima,” he sighed.

  She smiled happily, glad he liked the lingerie.

  “May I help you with your suit?” she offered.

  “Yes, please,” he replied enthusiastically.

  He looked so sexy in his suit, but she could see how the big man might be feeling claustrophobic in the tight-fitting garments.

  “You look so handsome, I don’t know, maybe you should keep it on a while…” she whispered.

  “Don’t tease me, woman,” he growled. “I waited all night.”

  She giggled and then went up on her tiptoes to slide his jacket off his wide shoulders. Next she removed his tie and put it around her own neck.

  “A leash,” he observed, raising an eyebrow.

  “A weapon,” she replied, swatting him with it.

  She leaned in and began to unbutton the crisp white shirt that was blocking her view of the gorgeous muscular body she was becoming addicted to.

  One button, two, three, and there were the ridges of those rock hard abs, the planes of his pecs. It was like a feast was laid before her. She nuzzled him, inhaling his rich masculine scent.

  “You’re not finished yet,” he teased.

  She sighed and continued with her work, unbuckling his belt, sliding his trousers and boxers down at once.

  Finally he stepped out of socks, shoes, and pants and stood naked before her in the moonlight from the window.

  They stood quietly a moment, taking each other in. At last he spoke.

  “God, I love your underwear,” he told her. “But can you please take it off yourself so you can wear it again one day? If I get any closer I’m going to rip it to shreds.”

  She giggled and obeyed him, taking her time so he could enjoy the show.

  “The tie, too,” he murmured. “Keep it for later.”

  She slid it over her head.

  The moment she was fully naked he swept her up and deposited her on the bed.

  “I love you so much, Rima,” he told her simply, his hazel eyes intense in the moonlight. “Thank you for being my wife.”

  “I love you, too,” she replied, surprised to find tears prickling her eyes.

  He kissed her, softly at first, but with a building intensity that left her burning.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  Instantly she felt the steel of him pressing slowly inside, filling her.

  “Rima, Rima,” he moaned.

  She closed her eyes as the pleasure consumed her.

  She was his and he was hers. Every time they laid claim to each other it would be reignited.

  The strong body that covered hers now would protect her. The hand that slid between them to make her scream with ecstasy would also hold hers in times of crisis.

  Just as her soft body would always accept him, her arms would comfort him and her breasts would one day nourish their child.

  Their shared sounds were like a symphony now, and the whole world seemed to reverberate with their joy until at last the crescendo brought them simultaneously to their bliss.

  He lay on her chest, panting and stroking her hair fondly for a long time as she slid her fingers up and down his back.

  Finally he leaned down to brush her lips with his.

  “That was too fast,” he scolded her playfully.

  “I think it was just right,” she laughed.

  “It was a good beginning,” he allowed. “But don’t think you’re off the hook yet. I promised you torture earlier tonight. So go fetch that tie again, wife.”

  “This is so much better than magic school,” Rima said.

  “What?”

  Rima laughed. It was going to be a long and memorable night.

  And tomorrow they would celebrate with their best friends. And after that, who knew what adventures they might have?

  They would find out together.

  It was going to be so much fun.

  And this was only the beginning.

  ***

  Thanks for reading the Stargazer Series!

  I hope you enjoyed it.

  Want to get your hands on some more steamy SciFi Romance?

  Keep reading for a sample of Reconstructed: Building Hero (Book 1)

  Or you can grab Reconstructed FREE on all vendors!

  http://www.tashablack.com/reconstructed.html

  29

  Reconstructed Chapter Prologue (Sample)

  Shadows pressed in on Gibson from every side.

  Somewhere in the darkness they were hiding, waiting to pounce the moment he let his guard down.

  Gibson fought to stay calm, but his heart hammered so loudly, he was sure they would hear it.

  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, tasting the air as much as smelling it.

  The feedback was immediate and overwhelming. His head filled with the pungent smell of his own sweat, the metal of the cyclone fence that enclosed the field and buildings, and the exact scent of each man that lay in wait for him.

  A shiver lifted the hair on his arms and he shook himself and opened his eyes to prevent the giving in to it.

  All around him, the shadows moved like living things.

  He advanced through the darkness, heading away from the ones he had scented. Not much further now.

  A tiny sound stopped him in his tracks.

  Again, he closed his eyes.

  When he opened his ears to their full potential, he nearly lost his tenuous grip on his self-control.

  He tuned out the thunder of his own heart, and reached beyond. The harsh breath of one of his brothers let Gibson know he wasn’t the only one struggling to keep it together.

  He inhaled again, letting the powerful combination of sensations wash over him.

  The air took on a familiar coppery taste, and the ground trembled almost imperceptibly.

  The night lit up in a blinding flash and the smell of ozone washed every other scent from his palette.

  He covered his sensitive ears to shield them from the assault.

  The deafening crash ended with a blaze of fire and the smell of burning wood.

  Fear grasped him like a cold hand, and he dropped to the ground, cowering and whining low in his throat. His skin crawled and this time he welcomed it.

  The change would bring safety.

  The voices of the men seemed far away as the electricity sizzled under his skin. He heard the clicks of their rifles and their shouted orders, but he didn’t care.

  A higher voice cut through the chaos.


  Her silhouette appeared then, backlit by fire.

  She was dressed like his brothers, but she wasn’t one of them.

  “Easy, Gibson,” she said, her green eyes sparkling through the gloom.

  He didn’t fully recognize the words, but felt her meaning.

  “Just listen to the sound of my voice,” she continued in her throaty soprano. “Hold onto it, sweet one. Hold on.”

  He focused on her voice, the fascinating timbre that walked the line between cheer and lullaby.

  “You were doing very well,” she praised him. “We didn’t expect a thunder storm. What you heard and saw was lightning striking the tree in the yard.”

  He didn’t understand. But he latched onto her voice like a drowning man, and at length his heartbeat slowed and he was able to hold the thing inside him at bay.

  When she seemed satisfied with his composure, the woman snapped her fingers and one of the men with guns approached.

  “Bring him back to his quarters,” she told the man. “And be sure he has something good to eat.”

  She turned to Gibson.

  “Good work, my brave one,” she said with a smile that was as professional as it was kind.

  Warmth at pleasing her blossomed in Gibson’s chest as he followed the other man away.

  30

  Reconstructed Chapter 1 (Sample)

  The ballerinas had arrived.

  Cordelia Cross stared out the window and took a few cleansing breaths while she waited for the elevator to bring them up from the lobby.

  No amount of meditation would actually prepare her for the crazy scene she was about to orchestrate.

  She knew better than that.

  But she always tried to be calm enough on the outside that she wouldn’t add to the chaos.

  The top floor of the Worthington building practically skimmed the clouds. Outside, the night sky drizzled over Glacier City and the bustle of tiny car lights and umbrellas below. Some days Cordelia felt like she was looking down onto one of her sister’s train set scenes. How perfect and pre-arranged everything looked when observed from a distance.

  Giggling in the elevator shaft alerted Cordelia to the arrival of her employer’s latest conquest.

  Not that he had put a whole lot of effort into this one.

  Well, he’d seen the ballet - that much he had done. Though, to be fair, he had left in the middle. Edward Dalton, his head of security, had brought lavish flowers and invitations to attend a private party backstage afterward.

  Despite his reputation, six of the young dancers had been brave, or foolish enough to accept.

  A few minutes ago Mr. Worthington had stormed around the room denouncing the food, which Cordelia had arranged. His handsome face twisted with displeasure and his massive frame set the mahogany tables shivering.

  “Why the hell would I want to eat yogurt and fruit? I work out hard. I want real food!”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Worthington. Dancers have to be very careful about what they eat. I thought they might relax and enjoy themselves more if you served something healthy.”

  “Hmm,” he paused, and turned to her, considering. “Nice touch, Cord.”

  His teasing smile had tickled her insides, even though she knew he would have given the exact same smile to any woman he met without a thought.

  Westley Worthington didn’t have to think about much.

  But Cordelia had spent enough time around him to know he was very, very smart, all the same.

  “Thank you,” she said, and looked down at her feet.

  The less she said to West, the less likely he was to fire her. He fired plenty of people - many of them for good reason. But some just because he didn’t like them. It seemed that he liked Cordelia, or at least he respected her. And in his world that was probably more important than liking.

  She certainly didn’t want to rock the boat. However hard it might be to work for him, she would never find another job in this economy at even half the salary he provided.

  Since the zoo went under, there weren’t exactly a ton of job openings for someone with her qualifications. And her sister’s situation made the idea of relocating unthinkable. At least she could type, and didn’t mind the crazy hours.

  The elevator dinged, snapping her out of her reverie. Cordelia plastered on her most professional smile as the doors slid open.

  “Welcome, ladies,” she said as the six dancers stepped out. “Mr. Worthington is so glad that you could make it. He’s on an important call at the moment, but I’m here to show you around and explain a few ground rules for your visit.”

  Mr. Worthington was always on an important call at the beginning of these things.

  The girls looked back at her in stunned silence. With their hair down and street clothes on, they somehow looked even younger and thinner than they had on stage.

  Cordelia wanted nothing more than to pack them up some dinner and send them on their way. But she knew the women who came to the penthouse were always here of their own free will and she certainly hadn’t seen anyone freak out and leave in the middle of a party.

  Though crying on the way out wasn’t unheard of.

  “Of course the penthouse is full of priceless artwork and important artifacts. It goes without saying that visitors are not to touch the displays.”

  She pointed to an incredible fossil that occupied a huge chunk of the wall opposite the elevator. Captured forever in stone, it showed two dinosaurs, locked in mortal combat.

  In Cordelia’s opinion, the fossil ought to have gone straight to a museum. But the ranch owner who had found it on his land decided to auction it off. Mr. Worthington had been quite taken with it, and had outbid all the museums to buy it for his private collection.

  Before the auction there had been whispers that some wealthy philanthropist might buy the fossil and donate it to a museum. But when West Worthington won the auction no one even imagined that he would do anything but lock up his prize in luxury storage.

  Somehow, he had managed to make things even worse by leaving it out on display in the foyer of his opulent penthouse. Once a day, a maid dusted its glass case. Otherwise it lay ignored and vulnerable to Mr. Worthington’s fits of rage and his guests’ drunken debauchery.

  The ballerinas didn’t seem impressed.

  “The penthouse is quite spacious. However, your invitation extends only to the main floor,” Cordelia continued. “Under no circumstances may you go up or down any staircases during your visit unless you are accompanied by Mr. Worthington.”

  The ballerinas giggled nervously. They probably expected he would pick the prettiest one and take her upstairs. Boy, were they in for a surprise.

  By now, they had stepped out of the foyer and into the expansive living room. The ceiling, which was ample enough in the entry, soared up to a twenty foot height, and three massive walls of glass exposed the twinkling lights of the stars above and Glacier City below.

  Cordelia heard the expected gasps and sighs behind her. Giving the guests a chance to take in the view, she scanned the room to be sure everything was in order.

  The center of the room held a sunken conversation pit, lined with dozens of satiny pillows and encircled by an elaborately carved handrail.

  The mahogany tables along the back wall were covered in platters of vegetables and fruit. Miniature cut glass bowls surrounded gorgeous trifles of yogurt and colorful berries.

  Mr. Worthington’s childhood friend, Peter Watson, stood behind the fully stocked bar. He wore a well-tailored tuxedo and stared straight ahead in a very professional manner.

  Cordelia was pretty sure he was up to no good. She tried to convince herself this wasn’t another one of their juvenile wagers.

  But she knew better.

  Cordelia cleared her throat and the dancers turned back to her. The way they clustered together and moved as one reminded her of a herd of gazelle: lithe, graceful, and totally unaware of the lion that waited in the next room.

  “Our final ground rule is tha
t no guest is to contact Mr. Worthington after this evening. As you may imagine, he is a very busy man. Our head of security, Mr. Dalton, has your information and photographs on file in the lobby for security purposes. We do keep this information indefinitely. So, if Mr. Worthington wishes to contact you for any reason, you may rest assured that he has the means to do so.”

  There’s a first time for everything, Cordelia supposed.

  “Speaking of Mr. Worthington, I’m sure he’ll be here any moment. In the meantime, please help yourselves to the refreshments and I do hope you enjoy your evening.”

  She flashed them a smile once more before turning on her heel and heading for the foyer. She was paid, and handsomely, for all manner of nonsense. But there were still one or two things she would not bear witness to.

  31

  Reconstructed Chapter 2 (Sample)

  Westley Worthington strode in to the penthouse just as Cordelia was marching out.

  Her straw-colored hair brushed her shoulders in time with the disapproving rhythm of her walk. Her long tweed skirt swished and her ample breasts bounced almost hypnotically under her sweater. But the expression on her face made him feel like he’d just taken the ice bucket challenge.

  “Did you warm them up for me?” he joked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Her unbreakable restraint never failed to amuse him. West had gone through a personal assistant a month for years - even a couple of mad streaks where he ran one off every other day. But this one was different.

  She was smart.

  And she was clearly resolved to keep her cool at all costs.

  Which of course, made him all the more determined to get under her skin.

  “Hey, do you want to join in this time?” West offered with a suggestive wink.

  He waited for her inevitable No, thank you, sir. But it didn’t come.

  Instead, she blushed deeply and kept walking.

  West was surprised to momentarily feel like an asshole for embarrassing her.

  But it was amazing how quickly those kinds of feelings passed if you pushed them aside. And West was very good at pushing them aside.