by Gini Koch
Chose to actively not worry about whether or not Chuckie was taking care of himself and instead focused back on Stephanie. “Did the agents think we have a chance of catching her?” I asked Siler.
“No idea. We kept them far back. But we don’t want anyone just randomly going after her anyway. Frankly, it’s going to need to be me, Malcolm, and John, and no one else.”
“Why so?” Jeff asked.
“No one else is capable of capturing her at this time,” Wruck said. “She has no compunction about hurting any of you, but you’re all reluctant to hurt her.”
“And we aren’t,” Siler added, presumably for Jeff’s benefit, because I knew that everyone in the room already knew this to be true, Jeff included.
Jeff heaved a sigh. “I know, I know, saving or rehabilitating her is a stretch. But I can’t help hoping that we’ll manage it.”
“Which is why we want you kept far, far away from wherever she is,” Siler said briskly.
Mom nodded. “And that’s a direct order, Mister President.”
Jeff didn’t argue, and neither did White. Instead the conversation turned to whether or not Jeff should go with me on the FLOTUS World Tour. Buchanan finished and Wruck went in for his shower and change of clothes. He was done before we’d finished arguing about this one point. Muddy’s thoughts about world royalty were shared, but Mom didn’t seem convinced. At all.
“Why are you resistant?” Muddy asked her.
“Because the President needs to be here, taking care of his country. No one is going to like your King of the World idea, least of all if Jeff is in their country. Plus, that leaves him far too open to assassination.”
“This job is so great,” Jeff muttered.
Mom ignored him and went on. “Plus we have alien ships arriving. We have no idea where they’re going to land, but if they’re coming to the United States anywhere, just as happened today, the President needs to be around, not presumed to be off on holiday.”
“Where do you think the others will land?” I asked Muddy. “Near where all of you did?”
“It’s possible. Your desert areas are very uncrowded normally, and they make fine landing sites.”
“Marvelous,” Chuckie said under his breath.
“The area we were just in is also popular,” Muddy continued. “Though I believe landings are preferred farther from land.”
Chuckie sat up straight. “You mean in the Bermuda Triangle?”
“If that’s what you call it.”
“We do.” Chuckie was almost vibrating with excitement. “Why there?”
Muddy looked surprised. “Many ships prefer a water landing, and that area is clearly marked for such.”
CHAPTER 40
THE ROOM WENT SILENT. Broke it. “Um, excuse me? What do you mean by the area being marked?”
“For landings,” Muddy said patiently. “There are clear indications for where to land if you know what to look for.”
“How long have those markings been there?”
“To our knowledge, forever.” Muddy shrugged. “I realize by your expressions that for all of you this is shocking. For us, it’s not so much. Your desert area is marked for landing, too.”
“Hang on.” Got up and ran to the family dining room again and went to the fridge. “Odd request. Need a map of the peaks that the Planetary Council landed on right before my wedding, and I also need a map of the Bermuda Triangle. And any other triangular places that you think or, rather, know are marked as freaking alien landing sites.”
Opened the door. There was an atlas sitting on the shelf. Took it out to see that there were bookmarks placed throughout. “Thank you once again for all you do.” Closed the door and ran back to the others. “Found this atlas that I’ve been prepping to show the kids where we’re going.”
Flipped it open before anyone could mention that I’d had zero time to prep anything other than my introductory speech for a Code Name: First Lady marathon. Made a mental note to talk to Raj about that whole Hollywood situation before it blew up in our faces. Again.
The page was the Bermuda Triangle. “I see no markings,” Chuckie said. “And this atlas has pictures taken from space.”
“They don’t photograph well, perhaps,” Muddy said politely. “However, they are there. We Turleens come here enough that we didn’t need to choose an official landing area. Plus, we were coming specifically to meet with the Queen of the World.”
“Seriously, call me Kitty, and also seriously, stop using that title. We get it, your hints are landing hard. We just know humans and we all know how badly everyone in the world is going to take the assumption that Jeff and I are their sovereign lords.”
The next bookmark was for the area I’d asked about—the section of southern New Mexico and Arizona that had Hatchet, Animas, and Chiricahua Peaks, which formed a very shallow triangle. This area was a hotbed of alien activity and always had been.
Apparently, we now knew why.
Because Muddy nodded rather enthusiastically. “Oh yes, that’s the landing area.”
We all looked at Wruck. “So, did the Ancients provide landing strip information on our planet, or was that the Z’porrah?”
He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I believe that was done long ago. We both used to mark the worlds so that our observation teams and, as you’d call them, missionaries would be able to land safely.”
“And you never thought to mention it because?” Chuckie asked.
“Because it never occurred to me. I’m sorry, I’ve been here a long time, and in that time, I’ve been aligned with you for only a few weeks. I haven’t thought about the landing areas since LaRue attacked and almost killed me. That information was never something I’d have even considered sharing with those I was associating with.”
Most of the room didn’t look happy with this answer. But it made sense to me. “That’s fine, John. We have to remember that we’re lucky you’re here, alive and well and with us. We’re just already so used to having you around that we forget that you were alone, behind enemy lines, for decades.”
Jeff sighed. “Kitty makes a good point, and I apologize for being upset with you for forgetting to tell us something key.”
“I’ll do my best to remember what you all don’t know,” Wruck said, earning chuckles from most of the room.
“How many of the ships coming to us will prefer a water landing, do you think?” Jeff asked Muddy and Wruck.
“The Faradawn Treeship will, most likely, as will the Vrierst ship,” Muddy replied. “As for the others, we’re unsure.”
“My data is out of date on anything like this,” Wruck said. “I had no idea the Mykali were here. I don’t know that any of us, Ancients or Z’porrah, know.”
“Probably for the best, at least in terms of keeping the Mykali safe. But back on topic, the Shantanu definitely were water landers. A manta ray ship landing in water makes sense, and I guess a tree heading for water does, as well.” Thought about the other ships we’d seen. “The Z’porrah tend to be hoverers. Will any of the others do that, hover impressively overhead?”
“Hovering overhead is usually reserved for an attack or is done as part of an official welcome,” Muddy said. “Though we can’t speak for those coming to Earth just now.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jeff said. “What it means is that we need to be prepared to have these ships land in our deserts and our oceans.”
“Are we sure they’re coming to our deserts and oceans?” I asked. Looked at the atlas. There were a lot of other bookmarks in it.
Every head, including the three Turleen heads, nodded. “They are coming to seek protection from the King and Queen of the World,” Muddy said. “As I keep reminding you.”
“Chuckie, we need the mind working on how we spin this, because I’m fresh out of cool marketing ideas. All I’ve got as a blueprint is Independence Day, and
I’m hoping we’re ready to have our experience go better when the Aicirtap arrive.”
“I hated that movie,” Chuckie said, but I could tell he was thinking. He shook his head. “Give me a little time.”
“I’m not sure that we have it,” Mom said. “The estimates for arrivals are just that—estimates.”
My phone beeped. Got off Jeff’s lap and went over to dig it out of my purse. Noted that my music app was open and the song cued up was V.V. Brown’s “Shark in the Water.” Snorted a laugh but kept myself under control. Either Algar had had that hint up for me and I’d just never looked at it or else, as I suspected, he was sharing a joke with me.
Looked at the text that had just come in. “Huh, Nadine says that all three kids want to stay at the Embassy tonight.”
“They don’t want to be with us?” Jeff asked, sounding hurt.
“Apparently Pierre is having some kind of elaborate sleepover for all the Daycare Kids and ours don’t want to be left out.” Checked to see if I had any other texts. I did. “Mom, Dad’s there, too, and wants to know if you’re okay with him staying with the kids.”
“Tell them all yes,” Mom said. “You and Jeff need to get cleaned up and dressed and then everyone needs to get back to the Large Situation Room. When aliens are arriving, the government doesn’t get to sleep.”
Sent confirmation texts to Dad and Nadine. Wasn’t sure if I should be hurt or relieved that the kids didn’t want to hang with us tonight. Settled for both.
Chuckie called Serene and Jeff called Raj. Craig and Francine were eating an official dinner and then would be heading to the LSR. Those who needed to know what was really going on did. All others would remain unaware that Jeff and I had taken a side trip to Bermuda.
Since the Planetary Council were still on-site, Mom decided that the Turleens would go with her and the others and get introduced while Jeff and I cleaned up.
“What time is it?” I asked as Jeff closed the door that led out to the main hallway. “I’m totally jumbled from going back and forth across the country and I didn’t think to actually look at the time when I was looking at my phone.”
Jeff turned and shot me a look I was very familiar with—his Jungle Cat About To Eat Me look. My breathing got heavy.
“It’s time,” he said, as he locked the door, “for you to change out of that bikini.”
CHAPTER 41
JEFF STRIPPED OFF my bikini quickly. “Mmm, looks like you didn’t sunburn.”
“You’d probably better check me all over just to be sure.” Yanked his trunks down just before he picked me up and stepped out of the trunks.
“Gladly,” he purred. “I plan to check all over. In a very detailed manner.” With that I wrapped my legs around his waist, his mouth covered mine, and we went from zero to a hundred in less than a moment.
Jeff was grinding against me and I was doing the same to him, while his mouth ravaged mine and I ran my hands through his hair. Rubbed my breasts against his chest, felt his hair rubbing against my nipples, and I was ready to go for it.
In the olden days, before kids, we’d take a long time on foreplay. Tonight the kids weren’t around, so we should have been able to take our time, but we had a huge room full of people waiting on us. So we didn’t wait.
Jeff slid into me and all the rest of the crap that was going on faded away. Aliens, bombs, haters, sharks . . . those things didn’t matter right now. It was just the two of us, slamming together at hyperspeed, which sounds like it would be a disappointing sexual experience but was, frankly, the complete opposite.
My orgasm hit hard and I triggered Jeff. Howled into his mouth while he growled back into mine. Our bodies shuddered in time together and I enjoyed the feelings of sexual satisfaction that washed over me.
For normal men, that would be it. Great, but it. But Jeff was far from normal in all the good ways, and A-C regenerative powers were never more impressive than during sexy times.
Still inside me, he carried me into our bathroom, continuing to make out the whole way. He turned the shower on with one hand while we ground together again and pretty much just like that he was ready to go again. I was pretty much always ready to go, and right now was no exception.
The shower was one of our favorite places to do the deed, and the soundproofing at the White House was, thankfully, as good as it was at the American Centaurion Embassy, meaning I could yowl my head off and the only person who would know about it was Jeff. Had the distinct impression he really enjoyed my sounding like a cat in heat and was a connoisseur of the various noises I made, because he sure did his best to make sure I was symphonic every single time.
Once we were under the water, Jeff moved his mouth from mine and onto my breasts. He’d brought me to orgasm at second base the first time we’d ever slept together, and he liked to ensure he batted a thousand every time.
However, it took more effort if I’d orgasmed already, which was fine with me and, apparently, also fine with Jeff. He put my back up against the shower wall, then sucked, nipped, and licked my breasts and nipples, while his hands massaged my butt in a way that was erotic without being sexual, and I continued to grind against him.
Unsurprisingly to me after all this time together, I was heading toward the edge in good time, and, as Jeff nibbled the space between my breasts, I went over the edge.
He waited until my howling was done, for the moment, at least, then let me slide down his body. “Time to wash up, baby,” he said in a low, sexy voice.
“Happy to.” Getting clean had become one of my favorite things in the world when Jeff and I met, and it remained on my Top Ten Best Things To Do With My Husband List.
One of the many plusses about being attached to American Centaurion were the bath products. They’d always been good, but when Pierre had come on as the Concierge Majordomo of the Embassy, he’d upgraded all personal care products to his standards, and he’d insisted we have these products at the White House Complex, too. Per Pierre, they weren’t always the most expensive, but they were definitely the best.
Our soap selection was vast, and our shower had very nice built-in shelves that held it all. Chose a sandalwood and vanilla combination soap along with a soft sponge, and started to soap Jeff up.
He grinned and followed suit, choosing a lavender and vanilla combo for me. Soon we were covered in soap, soap bubbles, and sexual desire. “Can I take a picture of you like this in case the vote goes for you to stay in D.C. when I go on my tour? Just, you know, so I have something to stare at?”
Jeff laughed. “Only if I get the same shot of you.” He bent down and kissed me. Dropped my sponge and started soaping certain parts of him up with my hands only. He dropped his sponge, too, and did likewise.
After a few erotic minutes of this he rinsed us off, and I did as well—soap was great but not fun in the intimate areas. Once the soap was gone, however, Jeff knelt down and made really sure that I was rinsed clean.
Grabbed his head and just held on while his lips, teeth, and tongue reminded me why it was great to be his woman and the water flowed over us.
Finally, he sucked in just the right way at just the right time and I hit High C. He delved his tongue deep inside of me, then worked his way up my body licking me everywhere. My neck was my main erogenous zone and, once he was there, he spent some time ravaging it, just to ensure that I had a kind of double orgasm. I was too busy feeling the rapture to determine if it was one huge long one or two or more, but decided to forgive myself for the lapse.
I was almost unable to stand anymore when he picked me up and slid back inside me. Was still able to wrap my legs around his waist and, in order to again take an active role in all of this, bit down right where his shoulder met his neck. Diligent hunting over the years had shown that this was an area that made Jeff go harder and faster and, true to my experience, he growled and thrust into me—fast but not at hyperspeed, just fast
for a human.
Moved my mouth from his neck to his ear and gently bit his ear lobe. This was also something he liked, and him thrusting faster was confirmation.
We were like this for a good long while, alternating between who was nipping and nuzzling whom, but even the greatest things have to come to an end. Jeff sped up, just a little, but it was enough, and I went over the edge again and he came with me.
Our bodies shuddered in time, then he once again let me slide down his body. Nuzzled my face in between his pecs. “Mmm, I love being married to the Alien Sex God.”
“I just take those marriage vows to always make you happy seriously.”
Rubbed my face against the hair on his chest when something occurred to me. “Hey, you know, we haven’t washed our hair yet.”
Jeff chuckled as he kissed the top of my head. “Well, we’ll have to rectify that immediately if not sooner. Can’t go to an important meeting with unwashed hair.”
“Decorum is our watchword.”
Jeff grinned at me. “And here I was thinking our watchword was orgasm.”
“Good point. I like your choice better.”
CHAPTER 42
SEVERAL MORE CLIMAXES LATER, we were both shampooed and conditioned and clean. We dried off then headed to the closet to get dressed.
Jeff was, of course, in the latest set of the Armani Fatigues, and I was in my FLOTUS Standard Issue—the exact same outfit Francine had been or was still in. Managed not to heave a sigh. The benefits of being married to Jeff far outweighed our somehow having become the top couple of the United States.
Jeff wasn’t using hyperspeed to dress, meaning he was as excited about the next round of Stress Meetings as I was. He was going so slowly that I finished dressing first, which was quite the rarity.
“You okay?”
He nodded. “Just don’t feel like rushing.” Jeff kissed my cheek. “But thanks for worrying about me.”
Thusly reassured, headed out of the closet to see that the atlas was on the floor. Which was not where I’d left it. And it was opened to one of the bookmarked pages. But not one that we’d looked at already.