AREA 69: An Alien Invasion Romance Novel

by Courtney Collins

  He laughed and took her mouth again, and Jenna gasped as he slid between her thighs. “What are you doing?” she breathed, digging her nails into his back as he began to stroke the swollen folds with the tip of his cock. Her head fell back, sobs of pleasure mingling with his moans. “Put it in, Maxim,” she begged, arching her hips shamelessly. “Fuck me!”

  Max groaned and bit down on his lip. “You’re so tight, love. Am I hurting you?”

  Jenna gasped and winced. He was too big, the thick shaft stretching her beyond pain. Regret darkened his features as he pressed soothing kisses over her face. “Forgive me.” He peered down at her, easing his movements.

  Moans escaped from her lips. Her body was slowly acclimating to his size.

  “Darling,” he breathed. Max eased out and eased back in again. “Better?”

  “Hmm?” she sighed dreamily. “Yes, you feel very nice.”

  His lips touched her ear and brow. “So do you.” Max held her gently and Jenna allowed herself to relax, letting her fingers trace lovingly down his back. “I want to move,” he whispered.

  Jenna stared up into those jewel-like eyes and nodded. Her soft gasps mingled with his as he began to thrust slowly. She held on to him and wrapped her thighs around his hips, whimpering as his hot flesh moved within her. “Max,” she moaned. “Don’t stop!”

  “Never!” he gasped. “You feel so... good.”

  “So...do you!” Soft mewls of pleasure drifted from her lips as Max rode her hard and fast. The pain became a distant memory and Jenna reveled in his possession, clutching at him and urging him on. “Harder! Deeper!”

  Her moans became shrieks and Jenna was his. Her grip tightened on his shoulders and his thrusts became a desperate race to the finish. “Maxim!” she screamed, her body consumed in a swash of fiery ecstasy.

  Max cried out and clasped her tightly to him. “Jenna,” he whispered into her ear. “My love.”

  6

  The flame flickered slightly in a draft seeping from the window. Jenna sighed and nestled closer to Maxim. He’d made love to her. She couldn’t quite get her head around the fact that she’d just made love to a ghost. But she supposed it was meant to be that way. He stirred in her arms.

  She smiled up at him. “You’re adorable when you sleep.”

  “So are you.” He kissed her nose.

  “I’ve been told I’m very plain,” she said, making a face. He laughed and pulled her to him.

  “You’re beautiful. I like brunettes.”

  “Brunettes with unruly hair and freckles?”

  “Where are these freckles?” he demanded, snatching the sheet from her. “Let me see!”

  “Maxim!” she giggled. “That tickles!”

  “Come here, my little wife.”

  “Wife?” Jenna repeated in wonder. “I wish.”

  His eyes glowed with strange intensity. “Wish it,” he commanded softly.

  Jenna pressed her mouth against his and sighed, “I wish I was your wife.”

  “Then it will be so!” he declared, ravishing her mouth with hot kisses. “I want you again.” Max’s hands caressed the swollen mounds of her breasts. “Are you very sore?”

  “No,” she breathed into his mouth, flicking her tongue over his lips. Jenna spread her thighs for him and gasped when his hand found her clit. “Oh...yes,” Jenna moaned softly. “Like that.”

  His finger teased the hard pebble, lifting and rolling it with his thumb.

  “Like this?” he murmured in her ear. “You’re wet again.”

  Jenna’s hand strayed to his cock where it throbbed and pulsed in her grasp. “You’re hard.” Her fingers stroked gently and he cried out in an agony of longing. “Here,” she said, pulling him towards her entrance.

  “Jenna!” he groaned. Max stilled above her and allowed his hands to caress her body, massaging the soft breasts until the peaks hardened beneath his fingers. Her soft cries emboldened him and he devoured her flesh, his tongue savouring the salty sweetness. A smile emerged as he explored her navel until finally burying his head between her thighs.

  Jenna squealed with delight and clutched his head to her. “Yes, my darling!” She felt hot and cold and could not draw a deeper breath, gasping in shock as his tongue worked her clit, lifting and sucking gently until she was begging him for his cock.

  “Not yet,” he chuckled, slipping his tongue inside to taste her. He’d waited for her for so long and was going to take his time. “I want you to scream, my love. Scream for me.”

  “No,” she whimpered, trying not to come. His hands slid beneath her and finally a scream emerged when his hot, stiff tongue impaled the greedy flesh. “Maxim!”

  He laughed in triumph and spread her wide, closing his eyes as he sank into her tight cunt. Jenna moaned and reached for him, wrapping herself around him and sliding her hands down to cup his hard ass. “Harder!” she panted, laving and biting his ear.

  Max cried out, plunging his tongue into her hot little mouth and ravished her over and over again. He pulled out to the tip and rammed into her hard and deep, making her scream. He liked that. “Louder!” he groaned, urging her up to meet his cock. “No one to hear us, love.”

  Jenna screamed again, unable to contain excruciating pleasure he gave her. “Maxim!” She stared up at him in a passion-filled haze as he rode her, muscles flexing beneath a fine sheen of sweat. “Come here,” she gasped, pulling his head down to hers.

  Their tongues mimicked the movements of their bodies, plunging in and out with such ferocity Jenna thought she might die from the agony of it. Her eyes winced shut and her final scream was taken into his mouth as he gave his own.

  Maxim touched his lips to her hair and brow. “Am I heavy, love?”

  Jenna wiggled beneath him making him gasp. He was still embedded deep within her and she revelled in the fullness. “No.”

  “Liar,” he chuckled, bracing himself on his forearms. Max smiled down at her. “That was nice.”

  “It was,” she murmured, wiggling her hips again and gasping as his shaft swelled thickly within her. “How is that... possible?”

  “It’s been a long time,” he groaned. Max began to stroke, his eyes drifting shut. “You were made for me. For this.”

  “Max,” Jenna sighed, arching her hips into his thrusts. “Don’t ever stop.” She reached up and pressed loving kisses over his face and mouth.

  “Never,” he breathed and kissed her tenderly. “Never.”

  7

  “Happy darling?” he whispered against her hair.

  Jenna nodded sleepily. “I don’t want to leave.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “Mr. McKendrick will be here tomorrow. The rain has stopped.”

  She could feel the tension in his chest. “I know,” he said quietly. “Let me work on it.”

  “Max...”

  “Hush!” he commanded softly. “Sleep now.”

  “Okay.”

  That night, Maxim took her upstairs to the attic where he bathed her in an old cast-iron tub and rifled through the trunks. He took out his old regimental uniform. “How do I look?” he asked, donning the faded scarlet coat and grinning like an idiot.

  She giggled. “Very dashing.” Jenna pulled out an exquisite ivory lace gown. “This is gorgeous!” she breathed, and held it up to her.

  Max grinned. “Put it on. I’m sure Lucia wouldn’t mind.”

  “Lucia?”

  “My sister. She was about your size. Mother had that dress made for her wedding trousseau, but she never got to wear it.” His voice quieted. “Diphtheria.” Max glanced up at her sadly. “She was only sixteen.”

  “Max, I’m so sorry.” Jenna couldn’t bring herself to put the gown on and chose another. It was of pale pink silk with a satin sash of a darker hue. “Is that how... you died?”

  He nodded, forcing a smile. “I’ll wait here.”

  Jenna hurried to the dressing screen and gasped as the silk slid over her body. The dress fit her as if made to do so.r />
  She emerged and a slow grin brightened his features. “You’re beautiful.”

  A blush crept across her cheeks while her hand slid up to the tangled curls. She forgot to bring her comb. “I must look a sight.”

  Max shook his head. “No, love.” He drew her into his arms. “You’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  “I can’t dance,” she warned him and he laughed, urging her to stand on his feet.

  “You can like this.”

  She sighed with happiness as he twirled her about and for a moment she could see them in a ballroom dancing amongst various lords and ladies of his time. “Max,” she began. But he shushed her.

  “Don’t say it, Jenna. Let’s just have this. For now.”

  He stopped twirling and Jenna held him tightly to her, afraid he would vanish into thin air. She was hopelessly in love with him and hoped he returned the sentiment. “Max, I love you,” she blurted before he could stop her. “I love you!”

  There was a look of agony on his face as he crushed her to him. “My darling Jenna! I love you so!”

  “Maxim,” she whispered, tears flooding her eyes to slide down her cheeks. “Don’t leave me.”

  “Hush, my sweet,” Max whispered, kissing the tears away.

  Their happiness was short-lived as an unholy pounding erupted downstairs. Maxim swore when he peered out the window. “He’s here!”

  Jenna took off the gown. “Wait here,” she said softly.

  “Jenna,” he said hoarsely, as she opened the door. “Be careful.”

  He was looking at her like he would never see her again. “I will.” Their eyes met and Jenna tore downstairs, sobbing.

  Mr. McKendrick was waiting for her and stomped his muddy boots on the faded carpet. “That was a damn blasted storm if ever I saw one!” He removed his coat and shook it out. “So, you’re alright then. That boy come tearing through the village screaming his bloody head off about a ghost.” He eyed her closely. “But you’re in one piece, so I can’t speak for the lad.”

  “I’m in one piece,” Jenna repeated faintly. “Who’s going to help me with the equipment?”

  Mr. McKendrick glared at her. “Don’t tell me you actually found something?”

  She shrugged. “Didn’t get a thing. Why?”

  “No reason,” he grunted. Before she could stop him he began tipping over the monitors. “No one’s going to see anything.”

  “What are you doing?” she shouted, trying to stop him. “Stop it!” He growled and shoved her aside.

  There was an odd gleam in his eyes. It was something evil, almost as if he wasn’t Mr. McKendrick anymore. “Who are you?” she whispered. “What are you?”

  He began to laugh. A high, maniacal giggle that she’d heard on one of the cassette recordings. “You’re not very smart, are you girlie?”

  Jenna backed away from him and headed for the stairs. But he caught her halfway and tossed her back down. “Get down there!” As she struggled to get up, she heard Max growling in a high rage and stared in disbelief as he lifted McKendrick up by his collar and flung him across the room. But it didn’t stop him for long. “Maxim Ravencroft,” he sneered. “Pity I didn’t kill you the first time.”

  “Silas McKendrick,” Max spat angrily, his voice a ghostly echo in the empty hall. “You mercenary bastard! Touch one hair on her head and you’ll answer to me.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re in love with her?” McKendrick began laughing. “I’ve heard it all. My ancestor would have loved that one. But more to the point, I want the castle.”

  “It’s mine!” Max growled. “I’ll rip out your heart before you snatch it from me.”

  “I don’t think so,” McKendrick said softly, grabbing Jenna and putting a knife to her throat. “How about I gut her like a fish so you two lovebirds can be together? I get the castle. Everyone’s happy.”

  Jenna gasped as the blade cut into her flesh drawing blood. Max was nowhere to be seen and she was afraid he’d expended too much energy being with her. “Max, don’t give in! This is your home.”

  “Shut your gob,” McKendrick snapped, yanking her hair. “It belongs to me. His family stole it from mine! That’s all they were, a bunch of thieves and whores, like his sister.”

  “Say that again!” Max barked as McKendrick was shoved aside, the knife dropping to the floor. “Run, Jenna!”

  She scrambled to her feet and ran towards the stairs. Jenna was nearly at the top when she heard a loud POP!

  A searing pain filled her body as she glanced down to where a small dot of crimson was slowly spreading over her chest. Jenna reached up, her hand filled with blood. She thought she heard McKendrick scream as Max hurled him from the ceiling, his body falling into a crumpled heap and twitching as he died.

  Her feet slid out from beneath her and she felt herself falling into the abyss below.

  Epilogue

  “I can’t believe she’s gone,” Carl lamented. “I should never have let her go by herself.”

  “Hey, man!” Brad said, working a piece of gum to death. “You said she was good. On her first investigation she gets offed by some nutjob? It’s not our fault she couldn’t hack it.”

  “Aren’t you sorry she’s dead? She didn’t even have family for crying out loud!”

  “Win some, lose some,” Randy said, struggling with the video cables. “She’s better off. “

  “Says who?” Carl muttered. “We better get something this time, dad’s losing his patience with us.”

  “Keep your knickers on,” Brad grumbled.

  “Well, if you guys want me, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Carl told them and went off in search of a midnight snack. He was in the midst of a jelly sandwich when he heard a scream. He raced out of the kitchen just in time to see Randy being lifted by the scruff of his neck and tossed outside. Brad was halfway down the road, tearing at his hair and shrieking like a madman.

  Carl felt a chill just then and a tap on his shoulder.

  “Boo!”

  “Wait, you guys!” he shouted, scrambling after them. “Wait for me!”

  “That wasn’t very nice.” Jenna chided her companion. “For shame!”

  Max turned around and grinned at his wife. “They deserved it, love.”

  Giggling, she materialized and hugged him. “You’re right.”

  “Let’s go to bed.” He lifted the candle and took her hand.

  “Catch me” she laughed, backing away.

  He leered at her. “You know what will happen to you when I catch you.”

  Jenna smiled and twirled about in her gown. “I’ll race you across the moors!”

  Max’s eyes lit up as she hitched up her skirts. “What’ll you give me if I catch you?”

  Laughing, she darted outside and fled into the night. Max followed behind and caught up with her. She squealed with glee as he lifted her high, swinging her about.

  Their happy laughter rose and floated in the air mingling with the soft whispers of the wind.

  BILLIONAIRE TIGER

  CHAPTER 1

  As it was her habit to do, Lara Everly studied herself in her full-length mirror. She was dressed all in black--a lycra top, Capri pants, her best high-heeled leather shoes. She stood and looked at herself. She ran her hands over the round and full contours of her form and studied the lines of her body. She turned to one side and did the same. She ruffled the long, thick, tumbling locks of brown hair that crowned her head, flowed over her shoulders, and fell halfway down her back. She smiled her best red-carpet smile. It was the same as it had ever been. She told herself that it was only nature showing its sense of humor. A capricious nature had given her a supermodel's face, a dancer's legs--and a pear-shaped body.

  There was no question about it. Lara was a pear. A very pretty pear, but a pear all the same, full and round in the middle. If she were really honest, the legs holding up the pear were a little more stout in the thighs than those of a dancer would be. They were not ugly legs by any means;
the words "pleasantly plump," which she learned from her parents when she was a little girl, were her mantra for many years, until she learned to think of herself as a pear. She had the shape of a pear, and, she thought, the sweetness of a pear--the pear, after all, being the sweetest fruit. She thought she should eat more of them than she did. The only trouble with pears was that chocolate--which was the color of her thick, rich hair--was so much more satisfying. To hell with diamonds; a girl's best friend was a chocolate truffle.

  Still, she thought as she studied herself in the mirror, what was so wrong with pears? The face looking back from the mirror, the features that could grace a thousand commercials for shampoos and cosmetics, had no answer for her. It had nothing to say about what lay below her bust. It was only light bouncing off glass and told her nothing about the roundness and fullness from her stomach to her bottom to her upper thighs, which was where men's eyes always stopped when they looked down from that face. Men's taste for fruit was sadly limited. When she saw men out and about, the ones that appealed to her the most had a tendency not to pick pears.

  And see them she did. Living in a big city, Lara saw them everywhere. The city was a veritable nest of beautiful-looking men. She saw them in the park and at the market, in restaurants and cafes. She saw them in the streets and in stores. She saw them in the hallways of the apartment building where she lived, and in the offices of the clients that she served as a freelance fundraiser. She used to frequent the gym. She stopped because she saw so many of them there, in their tank-tops and shorts and swimsuits, and it grew difficult to look at them. And the reason was what she found they liked to look at--and touch, and walk holding hands with. When the beautiful men went foraging for mates, they did not pick pears. The fruit that they picked was tall and slender. When it had curves, they were not curves like those in the middle of Lara's body, full and broad and ample. The curves on the fruit that the beautiful men picked were sleek and subtle and sinuous, things that Lara had stopped trying to be.