Alien Romance: Celestial Angels Complete Set: A Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Alien Romance, BBW, Alien Invasion Romance)

by Rosette Lex

  “Hey, I make killer pancakes.” She blinked and held up a hand. “Not literally. They don’t have cyanide in them or anything.”

  The anger finished leaving his eyes, and he chuckled. “Thanks for clarifying. In my line of work, one never knows.”

  He cooked steaks for dinner. They weren’t bad: just enough garlic and cracked pepper. She wasn’t used to taking her meat so rare, but the gleam in his eyes when he shoved a dripping pink slice in his mouth made it clear that this was his favorite.

  “Getting enough iron in your diet?” she teased gently.

  He smiled faintly as he swallowed. “I need more than is usual.”

  “Tried broccoli? It’s cheaper than red meat..”

  He blinked, and then pulled a face. “Eugh.”

  She couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, okay. No broccoli. I’ll try and remember that.”

  She caught herself then, and sat blinking at herself. She was memorizing things about him, little details: hobbies, favorite foods, things he hated. As if they were dating.

  As if they had any kind of future together at all that didn’t involve his discovering his mistake and some awkward parting of ways. Or worse...with his never ever learning the truth, turning her over to his superiors...and leaving her with a broken heart and her freedom gone.

  “I wish I could just introduce you to my parents up north,” she admitted. His eyebrows shot toward his hairline and she let out an awkward laugh. “Well, they could certainly verify who I am.”

  “Where are they?” a touch of businesslike chill had entered his voice automatically, but at least he was listening.

  “San Francisco, closer down toward Daly City. Rents got too bad and they had to move out of the city proper.”

  “Yes, that’s a problem almost everywhere.” He frowned, scratching his chin, clearly making another mental note. That was good. Please let me not be deluding myself. Please let him be starting to believe me.

  “I don’t know what they’d make of you, though.” She fought a torrent of giggles. “Hi Mom, hi Dad, this guy’s an NSA agent who thinks I was screwing a terrifying drug lord on the regular and kept me captive for a weekend. It’s all good now, though, or at least mostly. Could you just show him my birth certificate and baby pictures so he knows for sure that he’s wrong?”

  He snorted, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Well, it would certainly prove your point, awkwardness aside.”

  She shrugged. “Got an Internet connection I can use? Mom's on-line these days.”

  “It’s not secure.” He hesitated. “We have a hacker after us currently.”

  “Damn it.” So much for that idea. “What about once your team catches the guy?”

  “Well, then of course you can show me whatever you think will help make your case.” That tiny note of skepticism staying in his voice drove her crazy. But it was still a chance. How long could it take them to catch one hacker? A week, maybe? Two? She hated the idea of being locked up anywhere for so long...except….

  Except it’s with him. And that’s only a torment because he won’t touch me.

  She slept in the bed that night. He took the couch. She couldn’t think of it as a display of gallantry, because she wanted him with her. No, want wasn’t a strong enough word.

  Ever since he had first touched her, she had felt like there was a secret piece missing from her heart, which he possessed. He kept trying it for size, fitting it into place and then taking it away again, leaving her as bereft in spirit as she was in body.

  It took her hours to get to sleep.

  She woke early that morning, dim streetlight pouring into the room through the windows, making things into hazy gray shapes in different shades. She felt a strange heat through her body, an awareness of his presence close to her that she couldn’t shake or explain.

  I’m not psychic. Things like that don’t exist. I can feel him here, in the room, right nearby, but that’s just imagination. I’ll roll over toward the door and he won’t be there. He’ll be back in the living room, on the couch.

  She rolled over...and there he was, standing there shirtless and barefoot, his chest heaving softly as he bent slightly over the bed. Like he wanted to reach out and touch her, and couldn’t bring himself to. She stared at him; he stared back at her, pale eyes almost luminous in the chancy light.

  “Can’t sleep?” she asked him softly.

  He drew a breath, then let it out slowly. His voice sounded almost desperate. “No.”

  She sat up, daring to hold out a hand to him. “Join me, then. I’ll help.”

  He swallowed, his eyes widening slightly. This time, the breath he drew shuddered. “I….”

  “You know we both want it.” She couldn’t exactly manage a seductive purr, but her voice was soft and tender. “We’re trapped here. It could be days. There’s no reason to torture ourselves. I can’t make you think anything about me that you don’t want to. I know you have to answer to your bosses, and without evidence they won’t let you let me go. I can’t manipulate you, not with sex, not with words. I know that.”

  He drew a little closer, his breath catching. He didn’t blink. He didn’t answer, either.

  She steeled herself and went on. “Please...don’t do this to yourself. To me. I’ve got an IUD in, I’ve been tested. It’s okay. Please, just...join me now. I can’t stop thinking about you. And I know you want it too.”

  Her hand shook slightly in the air between them. He gasped for air, eyes flicking from it to her face to her half-uncovered breasts. Then he caught her hand in both of his.

  For a wonderful, harrowing moment she expected him to climb onto the bed with her. Her heart and body ached for it. But instead, he brought her hand to his lips, kissing it feverishly.

  She trembled. “Alan...please, I don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t be with you.” It was embarrassing to admit, but also absolutely true. “You have to admit at least that you’ve been the worst kind of tease.”

  He snorted, and his eyes twinkled slightly as he looked up at her over her hand. “I...suppose that I am guilty of that. And you have my sincerest apology for it.”

  “Don’t apologize, damn it! Do something about it. You’re...you’re not married or something, are you?”

  He blinked in surprise, and gently let her go. “God, no, I wouldn’t even have kissed you. That would be cruel to everyone involved.”

  She looked at him, and sighed in exasperation. “Stop being so perfect and then refusing to fuck me. It’s driving me out of my skull.”

  He let out an embarrassed laugh...and then coughed and forced himself to sober. “I...if circumstances were different...I’d gladly….”

  She stared at him sadly. “Will you at least tell me why you won’t? Is it because you still think I’m that bitch Marina?”

  “I….” He swallowed. “If I thought you were scheming against us and holding out on me I wouldn’t touch you. I wouldn’t make you dinner, I wouldn’t watch movies with you. I’d probably have you stuffed in the damned closet at this point so I wouldn’t even have to look at you.

  But tricked, conditioned, traumatized...those are the only possibilities that make sense right now. And though I hate the idea of doing anything with someone who has touched Bogdanovic--”

  “I haven’t.” She stuck her tongue out in disgust. “He’s not only a horrible asshole--the man is nasty.”

  “It’s not that,” he finished quietly. “I am...my background would scare you off. I can’t just sleep with you and lead you on, and then you find out about me and it upsets you and drives you away. It isn’t fair to you. I’m not into breaking women’s hearts.”

  “You’re breaking mine right now,” she said softly, her craving for him pounding away inside of her in time with her heart.

  “It would be worse if I went through with it. For both of us. Just one night with you wouldn't be enough for me, and that is all I would possibly get.” His face fell, deep sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
>
  After he left she lay staring at the ceiling, feeling his absence like a hole in the room. Come back here, damn it. I hate this. I love you. Come back.

  5: Bond

  I hate this. I love you. Come back. Please?

  He could hear her in his head now as he lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling. That was not a good sign at all. Especially since her presence there felt so comfortable, so welcome.

  His mother and father had shared a telepathic bond since their first mating, well over forty years ago. They had died on the same day because of it...but that was the only real drawback. They avoided misunderstandings by actually being able to read each other’s thoughts and intentions.

  They fought, yes, but it was not exactly shouting and lecturing: more glares across the dinner table as they hashed things out telepathically, generally within a few minutes. He didn’t, of course, ever dwell on what the bond had meant for them sexually, because that was all kinds of awkward. But now?

  “You’ll know when you find her. You won’t bond with her fully until after you’ve mated, of course, but as you have more and more contact with her, you’ll grow closer like this. First you will feel her strong emotions, then all of them, meaning you’ll have to learn to control their influence on you.

  Then you’ll feel at least some of her bodily sensations. Finally, eventually, you’ll start to hear surface thoughts, and be able to dig for more than that. It makes it impossible to hide anything from your mate, but that’s only a problem if you’re dishonest or if you’re planning a surprise.” His Dad’s birds-and-bees talk had sounded strange at the time, since after all, it wasn’t like Alan was going to find someone compatible with him here on Earth.

  He might have been born here, but his parents were in exile from...elsewhere. And only on that world, which he could never visit, could he possibly find someone he could claim as his own. Human beings were wonderful, but at the end of the day, they weren’t his people.

  He didn’t understand how Emily--Marina--could be tripping his instincts as a compatible mate. He had no idea how any human could register as compatible to his instincts. Maybe it was desperation--his body adapting as best it could to this world, providing him with a sexual and emotional outlet even though human genes could not possibly mix successfully with his own.

  But that made no allowance whatsoever for the emotional impact of a human discovering that he was from another planet entirely. How could he love any woman and yet keep his secret from her? And how could she possibly accept him and not flee in fear once she found out?

  And yet it was happening, right here, right now. The structures in his brain that regulated his empathic abilities were shifting, subtly, hour by hour, aligning themselves to catch her brain and nervous system’s electrical signals.

  His pheromone sensors would do the same. He doubted that she would feel the same effects, since human psychic abilities were mostly a matter of conjecture at this point.

  But the bond was there, and true--and even though he fought it for all he was worth, mostly for her sake, he knew that unless he got away from her, and soon, the time would come when he couldn’t fight any more.

  And the worst part of all of it was that he didn’t even want to fight. He had to. It was required. Who cared that he wanted her? Who cared that she wanted him? Who cared that when he went home at night to his nice rented flat and his empty bed, he felt the lack more and more each night?

  None of that mattered. Keeping his oaths to Control mattered. Keeping his secret mattered. Sex, romance...none of that should even be part of his considerations.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. Oh Emily, I’m so sorry. I’d be in there with you if I could.

  There was a pause, and he heard the bedsprings creak in the other room, and the soft padding of feet. She appeared in the doorway, muzzy from sleepiness and her hair escaping her braid. “Did you say something?” she mumbled.

  He sat up, and offered a small, tight smile while his heart pounded. “You were dreaming, sweetheart.” Don’t call her that. Too late. Oh, damn it. “Go back and try to get some rest, all right?”

  “That’s weird. I could have sworn….” she turned and went back inside her room, shuffling back to bed.

  He lay back down, his eyes wide now and his brow creased as he watched dust motes by streetlight. She heard me. Telepathically. She heard me just then, she heard my heart reaching out for her. That shouldn’t even be possible. But it had just happened.

  I am in serious trouble.

  The next day and the day after that seemed to race by and crawl by at the same time. Every minute he wasn’t touching her troubled him, and yet the hours kept going past without a single note or signal from Control.

  He felt cut loose, as if he and Emily--Marina--were adrift in a lifeboat together. And they were too close to each other to not fall into each other’s arms eventually. He wanted it. She wanted it. And the more he thought about it, the more he knew that it was an absolutely terrible idea.

  What if they weren’t compatible genetically, and she had to agonize through miscarriages? What if her telepathic awakening was incomplete or flawed in some way, and ended up driving her insane? What if she decided he was a threat to humanity and tried to expose him?

  He wished he could simply have faith. He wished that he could believe in destiny, that somehow love was powerful enough to overcome any potential trials.

  But he lived in a world where love often existed parallel to tragedy, or became a weakness to exploit; where the good guys had to keep secrets from their loved ones, and risked death every day on the job, and where the bad guys often won. He had to brace himself for the worst case scenario, because Murphy’s Law had a habit of haunting would-be heroes.

  But he still did his best to make her comfortable. Sunday night they had spaghetti with meat sauce, and watched a cable mystery movie marathon. How had they ended up curled up together with his arm around her? He only realized it after the second film, and getting up for drinks and popcorn twice only to come back and half-embrace her again.

  And during that time, she had snuggled against him, saying nothing about their closeness, simply radiating a quiet hopeful joy that ripped his heart out when he thought of it later. He could only disappoint her. There was nothing else at the end of this but that, even if she turned out to be completely innocent and telling the truth.

  That night, hideous nightmares rampaged through his brain. Ramirez and Bogdanovic clicked their drinks together, and a bomb went off in the Sunset. Two of his men in pieces. Bullets flying. Coulter’s bloody face.

  Shame, endless shame, knowing he could have sensed the ambush if not the bomb itself. But he hadn’t been there. And it wasn’t his fault, but he still had to live with it.

  Stop it. Stop hurting yourself. Emily’s voice. Emily’s hands, reaching out, taking his face in their palms, turning his gaze away from those terrible images and toward her face. She stood in soft warm darkness, brushing the sweat off his brow with her fingertips, smoothing his hair, soothing him until his heart slowed. And then taking him into her arms.

  The haziness of dreams couldn’t lessen that hit: his body jolted, giving him a temporary awareness of its presence alone on the couch. But then he could feel her again, reaching out to him, soothing him, distracting him from the doubts that harried him.

  I love you. Please don’t worry. Please, we’ll find some way to work this out. Don’t shut me out. Don’t you care about me at all?

  I am shutting you out because I do care about you, he responded, wanting to reach back across that black gulf of dream-space but not daring. I’m trying to save you from having your heart broken. Please just trust me that I would do otherwise if I could.

  But you can. You just have to dare. I thought you secret agent guys were all about laughing in the face of danger?

  Not when you are the one it would endanger, my darling.

  His eyes opened onto his dawn-lit living room, and he lay there, pain lining his face and h
is heart heavy in his chest. In the other room, he could hear the soft sound of her weeping.

  He exploded off the couch, frustration and anguish gnawing him from the inside out as he paced the other rooms. I can’t do this. I can’t. He was dangerously close to breaking his promises to everyone. To Control, to his principles, to himself...how could he tell her, when even his own teammates did not know, that the man whom she had fallen for was an alien? He couldn’t hurt her like that. He couldn’t...hurt himself like that.

  He slowed down as he reached the bathroom door, and stared at himself in the mirror. His hair was a little wild, his face pale and his mouth open as he realized how true that was. He claimed with all his heart that he was trying to protect her from heartbreak.

  But in reality, he was at least as invested in protecting himself. The very chance that she would reject him in horror on learning of his nonhuman origins terrified him.

  The idea that she would recoil, or flee from him, when he had joined their bodies and thus in many ways their minds...it could literally kill him.

  His people too could die from broken hearts, and a mate’s rejection was one of the worst ways to end one’s life. It was part and parcel of being telepathically linked, and just as with the death of one’s mate, it ended life for the one left behind.

  Not to mention what it would feel like.

  “Laugh in the face of danger….?” he whispered, suddenly feeling like a coward.

  His laptop chirped from the other room. He whirled and ran into the living room, flipped it open, suddenly having trouble catching his breath. Control was sending a signal. It could be a hacker, but--

  “This is Grant, go ahead.”

  “Alan!” It was Coulter on the image, bandaged up and cleaned up, with color in his face. “Holy shit, man, I didn’t know if I’d be talking to you again any time soon. You are one lucky son of a bitch, my friend.” The screen stuttered and twitched slightly, but all in all the feed was much better now. Alan wondered if they had fixed the program while digging out whatever the hacker had done to their system.