by Tasha Black
“We have… a different way to communicate,” he told her.
Oh god, he was an alien.
He looked like a hot guy, but he was an alien.
“You’re frightened,” he observed. “Don’t be frightened. I will never harm you.”
“Then who shot my friend?” Posey demanded, hating herself for noticing that his hair was fantastic, even after being out in the rain - as good as Dr. McDreamy from that hospital show. Maybe better. And he seemed to be telling the truth, though how she knew that she had no idea.
“My brothers and I did not harm your friend, this I promise you,” he said as he sat up. “We do not yet know the identity of our attackers, but we will find them, and we will punish them, I swear it.”
Wow. He sounded like some kind of knight, or a fancy butler.
She was suddenly too aware that she was sitting on the edge of a cot in a dress with no underwear.
Posey pulled her gown primly over her knees.
It was a ridiculous gesture. The thin white cotton was completely transparent now that it was wet.
She looked up at the man.
He was smiling.
“Are you laughing at me?” she asked.
“Are you trying to cover your body from me?” he asked.
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” she said.
“I like to look at your body. It’s very strong,” he told her a little too respectfully for her taste.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Yes, you are wide,” he said with satisfaction.
“There’s no need to be rude,” Posey huffed, crossing her arms over her breasts and wishing she could disappear into the cot she was lying on.
“Have I been rude?” he asked, looking concerned.
“You just said I was fat,” she said.
“No, fat is a food. You are wide: good hips, good body for babies. Did I say the wrong words?” he asked.
Posey considered.
“Women don’t want to be told they are big or wide,” she told him.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because big and wide also means that they eat too much,” she explained.
“I want my woman to eat too much,” the man announced proudly. “I will provide and you will eat. Our children will be numberless.”
“Oh dear,” Posey murmured.
“Now what?” he asked, beginning to sound frustrated himself.
“Oh nothing,” she said, figuring it was too hard to explain. “How do you know you want to have… numberless children with me? We just met.”
The man cocked his head at her inquisitively. It was an oddly funny gesture for such a huge and masculine body.
“We have not met,” he said firmly.
Hells bells, he was right.
“I’m Posey Quinn,” Posey said, offering him her hand.
“Bond,” he replied, wrapping his big warm hand around hers and shaking with a gentle pressure.
Bond. Funny. He did look kind of like a movie star.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, ready to extricate her hand.
But Bond was moving from the cot to kneel on the floor before her, and drawing her hand to his mouth.
His movement was slow, as if he were giving her time to stop him.
Posey’s chest fluttered and her skin suddenly felt hot.
She couldn’t bring herself to meet Bond’s gaze, but she allowed him to brush his lips against her knuckles.
“Mm,” he said against her hand, the vibrations sending tingles down her spine.
She resisted the urge to grab his hand and kiss it, too. What had gotten into her?
Instead she waited to see what he would do next.
He looked up at her, his lips still near her hand, dark hair rakishly covering one blue eye, the other studying her.
Then he flipped her hand over to skim her wrist with his lips.
Posey shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked for the second time.
“No,” she murmured.
“Why are you trembling?”
Posey was at a loss. Because it feels good, she wanted to yell, but you weren’t supposed to say things like that.
“Does it feel good, Posey Quinn?” he asked, his voice darker.
Posey actually felt her cheeks turn red.
“Um, just call me Posey, and yes, it feels good,” she admitted, looking down at her own thighs, which showed pink through the drenched cotton.
“Then I will resume,” he announced.
Instantly he lowered his head to brush his lips against the inside of her arm, the rough stubble of his jaw scratching lightly along the soft skin there.
She giggled reflexively, even as she felt a jolt of need in her belly.
“I like this laughing better than the shivering,” he told her, his eyes shining.
“Me too,” she agreed, smiling back at him.
Then his eyes left hers and went to her breasts.
Her nipples stiffened as if his gaze were a cold breeze.
She watched him, riveted, as he extended a finger toward her right breast.
His expression was filled with wonder.
When he made contact, Posey gasped. She had been so focused on his face, she had forgotten what he was doing.
“Does that hurt?” he asked, with concern.
“No.”
“Does it feel good?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He cupped her breast in his hand, as if to weigh it, and smoothed his other hand over her nipple.
The friction through the wet fabric was exquisite.
Posey felt her breast swell in his hand, the nipple asserting itself stiffly, while her other one ached for attention.
Bond leaned in slowly.
Posey tried not to squirm, anticipating the feel of his hot mouth.
He nuzzled her left nipple, then took it into his mouth, dress and all.
His hands worked her other breast as he lapped and then applied firm suction.
Her dress was soaking, so for the first instant, water actually moved through it and into his mouth, giving Posey the uncanny and fleeting feeling that her breasts were being used as nature intended. Then she felt his teeth through the cotton and she saw stars.
Too soon he left her breasts and cupped her cheeks between his hands.
“Posey, may I kiss you?” he asked.
She tried to envision a scenario where it might be okay for him to ravage her breasts but not kiss her. Then she decided that since he was a muscle-bound giant and didn’t know Earth’s customs, she would rather he err on the side of getting too much consent.
“Yes,” she said simply.
He leaned in, and brushed his lips against hers.
The gentle contact was somehow more provocative than what he had done to her chest.
He kissed her lightly again, and again, Posey felt it down to her toes, need building inside her, pulling like the tide.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in tightly for a deeper kiss as she ran her fingers through his hair, tugging desperately when he complied.
His tongue stroked hers, his hands still holding her face as if she were a priceless work of art.
Posey whimpered and he pulled her against him, letting her feel his own desire, hard and pulsing against her thigh.
But still he kissed her patiently, thoroughly, as if it were the most important thing in the world, even as Posey silently burned.
Suddenly he pulled away.
Posey opened her eyes to search his face.
He had a faraway look for a moment.
Then he smiled.
“My brother is coming,” he said. “One of your friends is with him.”
Posey tried not to weep with disappointment. What in the world was wrong with her? She had been shot at and then woke up in the arms of an alien. There was no way she should be ready to practically beg him to take her.
Posey Quinn, get a hold of yourself. T
here’s plenty of time to get knocked up with numberless children, after you get to know him.
9
Posey
There were footsteps outside, followed by a knock on the screen door.
It was too dark for Posey to see, but Bond seemed very pleased.
Sure enough, in came another absolutely enormous man, white shirt clinging to his drenched, muscled body. In his arms, he carried Rima, who was looking unusually small and frightened.
“Is your woman injured?” the other man demanded, depositing Rima on her feet.
“No, Magnum,” Bond replied.
The man looked Posey up and down appraisingly without a trace of a smile.
“Good, good,” he nodded, satisfied.
“This is Posey,” Bond said. “Posey, this is Magnum.”
“Nice to meet you—” Posey began.
“Where’s the other one?” Magnum demanded.
“She must be with Rocky. I’m getting flashes, I was hoping you were closer to him,” Bond said.
Bond, Magnum, Rocky?
Under other circumstances, Posey would have been doubled over with laughter at the mere thought of the names. But somehow, they seemed to fit these odd, gorgeous men.
Magnum began to pace like a caged tiger.
Posey moved to Rima.
“Are you okay?” she asked her friend.
Rima nodded, but Posey could see the tears in her eyes.
“Did he hurt you?” Posey asked, furious, and not bothering to whisper.
Rima shook her head in confusion.
“Did I hurt her?” Magnum asked, spinning toward them, his handsome face contorted with rage. “No, I didn’t hurt her. I rescued her. I carried her half a mile. As soon as I put her down, she fell in the mud, and then I carried her the rest of the way.”
That sounded like her Rima.
“Thank you,” Rima said quietly.
Magnum spun around to pace again, looking just as aggravated as he’d been before.
“What kind of flashes are you getting?” he asked Bond.
“It’s very strange, like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” he said.
“Try,” Magnum growled.
Bond appeared to be deep in thought.
Posey pulled Rima onto the cot with her and held her trembling friend close, trying to warm her wet body, but also trying to soothe her hurt feelings. Rima was the sensitive sort.
Bond might be a little weird, but clearly Posey had won the alien husband lottery compared with poor Rima and grouchy Magnum. What a bossy jerk. Frankly, he seemed more suited to Georgia, who could have held her own against him. Poor Rima would only fall to pieces.
Rima snuggled into Posey’s arms, but kept her focus on Magnum.
Interesting.
“Well, it’s kind of like the place where we were last night, when we snuck out,” Bond began. “But at the end of the room there’s a platform.”
Good god, they would never find Georgia.
“What’s on the platform?” Rima asked.
Bond thought a moment.
“A television,” he said hesitantly.
“The sports bar,” Rima said, sitting up. “Were there pictures of people in frames all around the walls?”
“No,” Bond said mournfully.
Rima rested back against Posey.
“What made it like last night’s place?” Posey tried.
“There are tables and people with drinks,” Bond said. “The light is dim.”
“Well, it’s a bar, so we know it’s in town,” Rima said. “We may as well start off in that direction while we try to figure it out.”
“What are you talking about?” Magnum asked. “You’re not going anywhere until we take out the threat.”
“How are you going to find the threat without our help?” Rima asked.
Before Magnum could argue Rima’s point, she stood, promptly slipping on a puddle from their dripping clothing and almost fell to the ground. Posey caught her by the elbow at the last instant and steadied her.
“How can we accomplish anything at all with you constantly flinging yourself on the ground?” Magnum asked, turning to Bond. “Is yours the same?”
“I think Rima’s just nervous, Magnum. We all are,” Bond said carefully, endearing himself immeasurably to Posey.
“Some have more reason to be nervous than others,” Magnum huffed, clearly hinting that the women were a menace to themselves.
Posey was ready to light into him.
“What else can you see in the room?” Rima quickly asked Bond.
“The television doesn’t have pictures, it has words,” he said.
“A teleprompter,” Posey said, picturing a news network, the exposure of the alien visit.
“Is anyone on the platform? Are they talking?” she asked.
“He’s talking fast, too fast to understand him,” Bond said, his eyes closed.
Not a newscaster, then.
“An auction?” Posey offered uncertainly.
“I believe the gentleman is repeatedly offering to render someone unconscious at the behest of his mother,” Bond added.
What in the world?
“Wait,” Rima said excitedly. “They got the messages from Earth in 1984. They don’t know about rap music.”
“Karaoke,” the girls said at the same time. Of course.
“Is there drumming in the background?” Posey asked. “Do the words rhyme?”
“Yes,” he said, opening his eyes with a smile, “they do.”
“Boom,” Posey cried raising her hand for a high five, which Rima returned.
“Was there another shot?” Bond asked, dropping to his knees at her feet. “Are they in danger?”
“Wh-what?” Posey asked.
“The sound you made,” he said, confused. “I thought you had a vision too.”
“No, no, we say ‘boom’ when we… get something right,” Posey tried to explain. Though she knew that what she had said was accurate, she couldn’t help feeling like she hadn’t exactly covered it. This was going to be hard.
“It’s a celebratory exclamation,” Rima said.
“I see,” Bond said, looking like he very much didn’t see at all.
“You know where this place is?” Magnum asked Rima.
“Yes,” she said.
“Let’s go,” he replied, hoisting her into his arms without further comment.
“Hey,” she protested. “Put me down.”
“Oh no, not that again,” Magnum growled. “You can walk after we find your friend and you are in a safe place. With a soft carpet.”
And before she could say another word, he kicked the door open and started off into the night with her.
Bond smiled at Posey, who was watching after them in horror.
He made a courtly gesture to the door.
“Unless you would like to be carried, too?” he offered.
“I would not,” Posey said clearly and headed after her friend, feeling uncertain about the whole idea of marrying an alien.
10
Posey
They hadn’t even reached the main road before Posey was completely soaked to the bone again. If she was going to have an adventure, she wished she’d known in advance so she could have been prepared with an umbrella. And a freaking pair of shoes.
She cheered herself with the idea that at least she had a real test case for the new waterproof mascara she was trying out.
“Don’t you guys have, like, a car or something?” she asked Bond.
“We have a ship. At least, we had one. It’s broken,” he told her sadly.
“Your space ship, you mean?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
He looked pretty worried about it. Though she had thought that their intention was to remain on Earth and live their lives among humans.
Then Posey reminded herself of how a lot of men loved and self-identified with their vehicles, and was more sympathetic.
“Is it a… special ki
nd of ship?” she asked, realizing she was only slightly less knowledgeable about space ships than she was about cars.
“Oh, yes,” Bond said, brightening. “It’s stunning. In your language I believe it would be called the Ethereal Twelve. Only two were ever constructed - ours and one for our ministers, which was really just for show. Ours has working synth blasters, a living dining room and it can hit speeds of about warp twelve, thus the name. It’s a beautiful machine, the design is very elegant.”
“Neat,” Posey said, nodding her head up and down as if she’d understood a word he said. “So what happened to it?”
“A minor landing error resulted in a small amount of damage on impact, but it has rendered parts of the ship useless,” he told her, his jaw tight.
“Can it be fixed?” Posey asked.
“Earth doesn’t have the tools or materials that were originally used to construct it, but we’re trying,” he said. “We have to get it working again.”
Posey chose not to comment, wondering whether he was getting cold feet about the whole marriage thing.
She found herself surprised at how much the thought hurt her feelings, even though she’d been entertaining the same doubts just moments ago.
They made the rest of the trip in silence.
Half an hour later, they reached town. The lights twinkled from between the trees that lined the sidewalks.
“Can you please put me down now?” Rima asked Magnum.
“Why should I put you down?” he demanded.
“Because it’s super weird that you’re carrying me,” Rima replied. “People will wonder what’s going on. Besides, if you put me down, it will be easier for me to lead you there.”
Magnum frowned, but to his credit, he set her feet gently on the ground.
Before Rima could start off, he grabbed her hand in his big one.
She looked up at him, her eyes aglow in the street lamps.
“If you slip, I’ll catch you,” he told her gruffly.
“Okay,” she agreed.
Posey stifled a giggle.
After about a block and a half of walking, the neon sign for Klingon Karaoke told them they had reached their destination.
“We’re here,” Rima told them.
Bond headed straight for the door.
“Stop,” Magnum commanded.