by Rena Marks
“There’s a small problem with that plan.” Kriekjan looked uncomfortable. “It seems Pariah used to be the consort of Mayor Jab. He will not be happy to find I am wooing her. I was on the mediation committee when his wife brought charges against her, wanting her exiled from the planet. That alone makes it a conflict of interest.”
“She wanted her exiled?”
“It was pure jealousy,” Kriekjan explained. “The mayor wasn’t married at the time of the fling. But once he did marry Millie Fagina, she was able to bring charges against Pariah because her uncle is one of the higher ups on the planet.”
“Millie Fagina. She sounds like a dog. So Mayor Jab sold out his lover for rank?” Tristan asked.
“Exactly. But the punishment was reasonable. Pariah agreed to act as the Madonna of the Puritans, and we enacted a banishment timeframe in which she was to train the Puritans until such a time as their unibrows grew in. At that point they will be allowed to return to the planet. But I suspect—though I have no proof—that perhaps it is Millie leaking information to the Herbasnuts in order to frame Pariah for permanent banishment. She does not want the constant reminder of Pariah’s goddess-like beauty anywhere near her shaky marriage.”
“What type of information is she leaking?”
“The instructions for a Level 6 Photon Launcher.”
Bajoc felt his jaw drop. “Are you fucking kidding me? How does she even have access to that type of information?”
“Again, her uncle is one of the highest officials.”
“Surely she realizes the Herbasnuts will release the launcher and wipe out her entire planet?”
“That’s the baffling part,” Kriekjan admitted. “Who knows how these female jealousies work? Is she so consumed with hatred for Pariah that she wishes to risk her entire planet in order to get her banished?”
Several of the warriors were nodding. “Females are hard to figure out.”
“I can’t bring Millie here to see if we can glean information from her because once she sees Pariah, all hell will break loose.”
“Especially if her husband is here,” Bajoc said wryly. “Fawning over Pariah.”
“Though perhaps she will feel safer if she thinks the Madonna and I are a couple?” The Commander asked hopefully. “We can instruct Pariah to play a loving bride.”
Seriously?
“No,” Tristan said. “It will actually serve to get you thrown off the Mediation Committee. You can’t mix business with pleasure. We’ll have to keep Millie away from where Pariah is.”
Kriekjan mumbled a bit, like a child who had a toy taken away.
Tristan rolled his eyes. “We will invite the Mayor’s Council. We will serve them food and drink and hope they loosen up enough to give us some clue.”
“Well, if nothing else, we need to keep Jab away from my pristine goddess. I won’t have him taint her again.” Kriekjan was adamant.
Pristine? By the look of some of the faces around the room, they found the adjective to be just as bizarre. In fact, it was so strange they didn’t even notice the goddess part.
Tristan nodded. “Let’s invite the Quaker males to the ball.”
* * * * *
Bajoc entered his home to find Reese at the kitchen table and Marcie sitting with him.
“Lily’s sleeping,” she said.
“Are you still mad?”
“Oh, you could tell?”
Bajoc knew he winced. “I have been hungry.” He hated the whiny tone in his voice.
“I hated thinking about my mate lying to me.”
His chest puffed out with indignation. “I have never lied!”
“Everyone knows about the Bubbled Waterfalls.”
His chest deflated. “Oh. Damn.” She’d heard about that.
“How could you?”
“I am sorry, my love. I wanted it so badly to be our place, and our secret that we kept between us. I just sort of got caught up in the excitement of my fantasy.”
Marcie sighed. “That’s kind of sweet, in a weird way. But I want to be your equal. Your partner. I want to know what goes on between us. I want to help you plan things.”
He cleared his throat. “I understand. I will inform you from now on.”
“You will?”
“I promise. Starting now. We have decided to invite the Quaker males here.”
“Why?”
“Someone is leaking information to the Herbasnuts. We hope to find out who by plying them with drink.”
His mate giggled. “Like hard-up dates? That’s a terrible plan.”
“It is all we have for now.”
“Do they suspect one of the Quakers?”
“Not exactly. But they hope to find out who it is by information that they may have.”
“That doesn’t make much sense.”
He shrugged. “It’s all we have to go on. We can’t accuse who we think it is, because the female has issues with Pariah and all hell will break out if she is brought here.”
His mate placed her hand in his. “I’ll help you. We’ll get the information out of the Quakers one way or another.”
He smiled at her assurance. “I am glad you are at my side.” He was learning about how to be a mate, and not holding secrets. One day he hoped Marcie would learn not to taint his dinner.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I know dinner was somewhat of a disaster.”
“No,” he said. Then he turned to her. “Honey, why don’t you soak in the bath tonight? Reese and I will prepare dinner. There’s no reason why you should have to do it every night for us.”
“I do it because you’re out and about all day, working the fields or working with the other men.”
“And you’re working at home, or working in the school with the children, or even working the community garden. I want to do this for you.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes misted.
“I love you, my Marcie.”
Reese ran to his momma. “I love you, too, mum,” he said, climbing onto her lap for a hug. Purple arms wrapped around her neck.
“I have the best guys in the world,” she said, hugging Reese, and looking at him. “Both of you.”
Bajoc’s hearts swelled. He never felt happier in his life than in this moment.
“We’re a team, mate. More than that, we’re a family.”
A knock sounded at the door. Bajoc flung it open to see Titi standing on the porch. She waltzed in, heading straight to Reese’s room. Reese followed her.
She wore a bun of retsli fur on top her head and a brown shawl. She also carried a small book of prayer.
“That one needs therapy,” Bajoc murmured.
Chapter Nine
The shuttle touched down, right in the space between their own ship and that of the Supreme Commander. The sleek, bullet-shaped shuttle seemed oddly out of place. Bajoc stared, unable to put his finger on it. Next to him, Tristan stared in silence also. Bajoc could practically hear the workings of his brain as it rattled.
Then the answer flashed through him like a bright light.
That was it. The doors and windows were too tiny. Come to think of it, the shuttle itself seemed oddly squat.
The door opened, and a small ramp slowly unfurled. The human mates caught their breath, waiting for something, but who knew what? And then the Quaker males marched down the ramp like a band of tiny ants.
From first glance, a trick of the brain made it seem like they were far away. But they weren’t. Instead, the Quakestrarian men stood at a minuscule height of between three and four feet tall.
“What the—?”
“Are those males?” Tristan asked, horror in his voice.
“They are some minute men.” Lara’s voice ended on a giggle.
“An itty bitty titty committee.” His own mate added fuel to the fire.
Bajoc stared at her in dismay. To his surprise, Marcie winked.
The row of six men approached the stunned crew of Helian Six. When the first man saw Supreme Commander
Kriekjan, he halted in front of him and dropped to one knee. The five men behind him followed suit.
A computerized voice rang from the speakers of their ship. “Hail, Ambassador of the Freijian Council and respected Mediator of Interplanetary Affairs.”
Kriekjan looked down at the ground, and cleared his throat. “Hello, Mayor Jab and Council Leaders. To my left is Commander Tristan Jeislkak of the Planet Hesprii. Please direct your communication to him as I am not present in official Mediator duties.”
The line of kneeling Lilliputians shifted one foot over to the left, and only the mayor lifted his head enough to glare at Kriekjan. Apparently there was already some bad blood between the two, and Bajoc hoped it wasn’t over Pariah. This would make for a stressful visit if so.
Speaking of which, she tittered coquettishly over on the Supreme Commander’s right. She wasn’t as rotund today, having unknotted her normally bunned hair to flow in loose waves over her shoulders. The only two females from Quaker who were present were her and Wilma. The others were kept on the ship so the pretend unibrows could be uncovered at the ball.
The mayor’s glare softened where it settled on Pariah. Then he cut his attention to Tristan.
“Thank you for inviting us, Commander.” The low-pitched voice that came from the mayor was a deep, booming baritone. Complete phone sex. Rough, gruff, gravelly, smoky and sexy, all at the same time.
The silence was enormous.
“Whoa,” Anita snickered, but this time it was in surprise. “Who the hell expected Barry White to pour out of that teeny body?”
Bajoc did not know who this Barry White was, but the voice that came from the mayor was deep…and oddly disturbing. It made him want to grab Marcie and toss up her skirts in front of everyone. From the pink glow on her cheeks, his delicate mate felt the same.
“I think I’m wet,” she whispered.
“There’s not enough chest for that voice to be locked up in there,” Lara whispered.
“You’re”—a squeak emitted from Tristan’s throat. He cleared his throat to deepen his voice—“you’re welcome.” He croaked deeply instead.
Bajoc swiveled his head toward his leader. He’d never heard Tristan’s voice sound this gruff. Tristan shrugged.
Still, the scene looked ridiculous with these tiny little men kneeling at their feet. They looked like kickballs, especially as three of the males were bald.
Someone coughed, probably to alert their commander that the Quakers couldn’t rise without his permission.
“Oh,” Tristan squeaked awkwardly.
Everyone winced.
He deliberately deepened his voice once again to rasp, “Please rise.”
Smoothly, the six little men rose. Bajoc felt his eyes widen before he schooled his features. The situation looked much worse with them on their feet. Their short stature guaranteed their tiny little faces lined up with a Freijian’s crotch.
“Stand down,” Tristan barked.
The Quakers took few steps back, and turned their heads upward to glare.
Tristan cleared his throat again. “This is my right hand man, Bajoc. His mate, Marcie. You know the Supreme Commander…”
But the small mayor’s gaze was focused on Pariah as Tristan droned. He stared at her, never breaking the blink.
“Precious Pariah. You are more beautiful than ever.”
“Peenis. How have you been?”
“Peenis?” Marcie’s voice choked.
“My sweet Pariah has always had permission to use my given name.”
The mates were strangely silent, as was the Supreme Commander, who stood with his mouth hanging ajar, as if surprised the Mayor still wanted to flirt with Pariah.
“Pariah?” he said, and his voice warbled.
She sighed. “Lennard, meet Peenis. He knew me intimately for six years.”
“How intimately?” Marcie whispered.
Pariah held out an index finger, and the mates gasped, though he wasn’t sure what that meant. Peenis smiled. That bastard surely knew.
“We’ll show you to the barn,” Tristan growled. “The ball begins in two hours, and the females will disperse to get ready.”
“We shall be prepared.” The mayor’s hand was on his weapon.
“No weapons,” Kriekjan spat. “No one compromises the females and offspring here. This is a protected planet.”
“Then we will be right back.”
With a nod, Peenis spun and was followed by his tiny entourage. They placed their weapons in a basket, and one of the Quakers carried it as they marched back to the ship.
As soon as they were out of sight, Titi piped up. “Wow.”
“You said it,” Tristan muttered.
“Is that my shawl?” Wilma gasped.
Titi stepped forward. She wore the shawl proudly…and nothing else. It was a dark, heavy brown color that went surprisingly well with her unibrow.
“Titi,” Tristan said sternly. “Surely you have not taken Wilma’s shawl? I am sorry,” he said to Wilma. To Titi, he said, “Give it back.”
With a sly look, Titi handed it over. From where he stood behind her, Bajoc saw dimpled purple cheeks.
Wilma shrieked and covered her eyes.
“Titi,” Tristan roared. “Put it back on!”
Bajoc said nothing with the commotion. Instead, he stifled his chuckles. Marcie tugged his hand. “Let’s go make sure the barn is set up properly.”
He allowed her to lead him to the building they’d erected. “Did you see that?” he sniggered. “That one did it again. They are failures at parenting.”
“Uh-huh.” His mate sounded distracted. But as soon as they slipped inside, she shut the door and wandered quickly through the area as if searching for something.
She yanked him so harshly, he was confused. “Marcie? Surely the barn has been readied.”
She gave a sharp glance around. “Quick. Talk deeper.”
“Huh?”
“Like Tristan growled earlier.”
“You wish me to mimic Tristan?” Definitely, his voice was a growl.
“Ooh, that’s sexy,” she said.
Sexy?
“Marcie? Are your phormones out of whack?”
Several bales of hay were arranged as seating and covered with a spread of material. She laid down on an arrangement of hay, spreading her legs and bending them at the knees. It was a purposely naughty move. “Definitely.”
The stunned look on his face quickly turned to lust. He looked around before dropping his pants.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, reaching out with a finger to touch the soft folds that beckoned him.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” she said. “Let me tell you what a quickie is, handsome.”
His mate showed him her strength as she yanked him to her, impaling him within her rich velvet. She was already wet. The heat was incredible as she quickly covered him with her luscious slickness.
“Marcie,” he said, surprised.
“That’s it,” she moaned. “Deep. Fast. Hard.”
He began to drive into her. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and her feet dug into his ass as he pounded. Her inner muscles clenched him, gripping his cock. His hearts pounded with excitement. He didn’t want to spill like a schoolboy, but it was so wondrous and unexpected, and his mate was moaning with the sexiest little noises.
Thankfully, she exploded around him. He lowered his head to her breast and gave one more thrust as he lost himself in his own orgasm.
Marcie was panting, her chest heaving. He delicately kissed her long neck.
“You are beautiful.” He punctuated with a kiss. “You are so sexy.” He kissed her jawline. “You are the most wonderful mate in the world.” He kissed her throat.
“Mmm,” she smiled, cupping the side of his face. “I love you, Bajoc.”
She brought her lips to his. Hers were soft. They opened at the same time and her tongue stroked against his. His cock, buried to the hilt inside her depths, began to stir.
But then they heard voices.
“This will be the area where the ball will be?” the voice of Barry White asked.
Bajoc felt a sharp pain as Marcie clamped down on his tongue.
“Aaack,” he whisper-screamed.
“Sorry,” she whispered, yanking away from him.
His wet cock slapped against his thigh like a dead fish. Marie rolled to the side of the hedge of hay bales, yanking up her underwear and pants.
“Thoo ith that?” he whispered.
“Get down,” she hissed. “It’s the Quakers. We have to spy on them.”
He glared at her accusingly. It would be easier to spy if his tongue was not throbbing so. His mate was a hellion in the sack.
“Is it just me”—the one speaking sniffed sharply—“or does it seem these Freijians pumped sex smells through the ventilation? I think they are trying to prepare us to waive the banishment on the Puritans by making us so horny we think we need the available females.”
Bajoc opened his mouth to speak, but Marcie clamped a hand over it.
“Fat chance,” a deep voice said. “A woman’s only good for one thing. The size of her unibrow. And those four probably still haven’t matured into theirs.”
There were loud guffaws.
“Assholes,” Marcie snapped.
“Thhh,” Bajoc reminded her.
“Mmm,” another deep voice said. “They are a clever lot. They did spray some sort of sex pheromones in here. It smells ripe—like wanton woman.”
Marcie gasped. She looked so affronted that Bajoc couldn’t help the small smile that touched his lips.
“Yes,” someone agreed. “Like a woman who’s taken on a dozen men. But we will not be so easily tricked. Men, we cannot let our wet woolies rule our minds. We shall relieve the pressure by imagining the pleasure we will teach a virgin. When our pipes are clear is when we shall return to the ball.”
“Do you think they are in cahoots with the Herbasnuts?” One asked.
“I had not thought of that. It makes more sense than the Freijians throwing excuses around like we have a traitor in our midst. Not one of our females would attempt to defy us! Especially not a Puritan. I wouldn’t trust one of those we have banished with a ten-foot pole. Who knows what they’ve touched on this planet? I’d rather they were sentenced to death than the banishment lifted.”