Caid

by Cara Bristol

  We kissed slowly, deeply, sweetly, and residual fears and old hurts and disappointments melted away under the onslaught of desire. Between kisses, we stripped—or rather, he undressed us both. His shirt then a kiss. My dress. A kiss. Boots. Kiss. My bra. Kiss. His pants. Oh boy. Full naked glory. My commando alien. A final searing kiss. My undies.

  Caid guided me to the bed, and we sank onto the mattress, bodies touching, hands roving. He stroked my hair, drawing his fingers through the cottony frizz before smoothing his way down my spine to cup my butt. “Obah,” he growled.

  His masculine, exotic alien scent filled my nostrils, and I pressed my face to his chest to inhale more of him, while conducting my own exploration of his sculpted form. I read him like Braille, admiring powerful shoulders, bulging biceps, and an iron-solid abdomen.

  I stroked his impressive erection, enjoying the smoothness, the hardness, how it leapt in my palm, the way he groaned and then captured my mouth in a burning kiss. He caressed me, fondling my breasts, teasing the nipples to aching pebbles, and then slipped his hand between my legs, finding and circling the most sensitive spots, inside and out.

  Passion wound hot and tight, and our movements became less teasing, more urgent, but no less natural. Our bodies had been made for each other; we belonged like two halves of a whole neither nature nor man could keep apart.

  When we joined, the deepest most satisfying pleasure filled me. My body sang, and my soul soared. We rocked together in a harmonious give-and-take, asking and fulfilling, until together we surrendered to the ecstasy of our coupling.

  He rolled us over so I lay atop him, and we remained joined for the longest time. He stroked my back, his heart thumping in my ear. Inhaling his scent, I exhaled contentment. How—why—had I fought against this for so long? I sighed.

  “Jessie, my mate.” His deep voice rumbled with satisfaction.

  “Caid, my mate,” I said. My man. My guy. My alien hunk.

  He dragged me upward and kissed me. “I will never get tired of hearing that.” He looked at me. “I was beginning to fear you would never acknowledge me.”

  “I’m sorry I made you work so hard.” He’d tried to impress me—the names he called me, the cheesy pickup lines, but he’d mistaken a joke book for a how-to dating manual. The fact he had tried so hard meant more to me than anything. I would never tell him what his book was.

  “You were worth it, sugar!” He patted my butt.

  “Studmuffin.” I squeezed him and giggled.

  * * * *

  I floated into the office an hour and a half late, and one of my fellow match coordinators caught me in the corridor. “Good galaxy, Jessie, where have you been?”

  “Stuck in traffic,” I lied. I’d spent the night at Caid’s place, awakening past the time my alarm would have gone off if I’d been at home. He’d woken, and a good morning kiss had led to some hot, steamy shower sex, and then I’d had to dash to my apartment for a change of clothes. I couldn’t show up to work in yesterday’s night-on-the-town dress. Since Caid no longer presented an open issue, I didn’t have any pressing projects, so I kind of took my sweet time getting to work.

  “Well, the director wants to speak to you.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll give her a call.” She’d probably seen the data report on Caid’s change in status.

  “I mean she’s here.” My co-worker glanced up and down the hall.

  “You mean, in the building?” I asked.

  “Yeah. She swooped in for one of her surprise visits. She’s been meeting one-on-one with all the match coordinators.”

  Of all the days to be late…but, mentally, I shrugged. “Thanks for the heads-up,” I said calmly. Any other day, this would have put me in a panic, but I floated on a cloud of euphoric sexual satisfaction. I’d had a night of amazing sex with my hotter-than-hot boyfriend who thought I was wonderful. Nothing could ruin my day.

  In my rose-scented office, I stowed my purse in my desk drawer and booted up my computer. I’d taken the tiger lilies, hydrangeas, and three sets of roses home, but had left one set of the red ones to enjoy at work. I took a whiff of the sweet fragrance before settling into my chair. Evelyn would find me.

  I considered calling her, but nixed the idea, figuring it might be better to act surprised when she showed up—and the extra time would allow me to craft an alibi in case she’d happened to notice my tardiness. Hmm…let’s see. I wasn’t late—I’d stopped to conduct a personal evaluation of Caid’s most recent date. Given the agency’s difficulty in finding him a suitable match, as a dedicated, model employee committed to the IDA and its mission, I had designated Client DK0009 for special handling to ensure he achieved full satisfaction. I snickered.

  I’d left my office door open so I could see when the director arrived. I formed a mental picture of the boss I’d never met: middle-aged with a classic bobbed hairstyle, her extra mid-life pounds camouflaged by a well-fitting designer suit. I wished I’d worn something better than the plain skirt and blouse I’d purchased at a discount store, but I hadn’t expected to meet anyone today. Most of us at the IDA spent our days holed up in our offices. If we needed to communicate with one another, we emailed or phoned. Face-to-face meetings were rare.

  I had pulled up the morning reports and begun to focus when the door to the hallway opened.

  I blinked. Instead of the director, Evie—the spiked-haired bartender from the hotel who’d slipped Caid her number on a cocktail napkin, walked in. “Well, hello again,” I said, taking in her gutsy fashion style. Her spiky violet hair had been gelled into a mohawk. A white wife-beater tank topped by a sleeveless denim vest showed off colorful tats. Tattered, faded jeans were shoved into some serious ass-kickers.

  Was she here to join the Intergalactic Dating Agency? All signups had to be completed on the ’Net, but I could answer questions. Or had she come to pursue Caid? Putting the moves on him at the mixer had been pretty ballsy, in my opinion. She’d acted all chatty and nice with me, and as soon as I turned my back, she’d made a pass at him.

  Feeling less friendly now, I asked, “What can I do for you?”

  “You can update me on DK0009,” she barked in a brusque, businesslike tone.

  “Excuse me?” I asked automatically. Like a deck of cards being shuffled, everything snapped into place. I tilted my head. “You’re not…”

  “Evelyn Fidalgo.” She didn’t wait for an invitation but sat in my guest chair and crossed her legs. I focused on her boots, hoping they weren’t meant for my behind, and wrestled with the new reality and possible fallout.

  Evie the bartender was my boss? I remembered scuttlebutt that the director liked to pop in incognito to check on her direct reports. Of all the nerve! Was that why “Evie” had gone to the mixer? To spy on me? To test me by slipping Caid her number? Had I passed or failed? I cringed as I recalled her pointing out how much I’d had to drink. Way to go, Jessie. Show the boss what a great employee you are by getting drunk at a work function.

  I racked my brain, trying to remember if she’d left before or after I’d thrown myself at Caid.

  Shit on a cracker!

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you face-to-face,” I lied.

  When she failed to reciprocate with a lie of her own—yes, it’s nice to meet you—but eyed me without blinking, I knew trouble had come home to roost. In five years of employment, I hadn’t met my boss face-to-face. She managed a large territory, and during all her drop-in visits, I’d happened to be tied up with clients or out of the office or off that day. What bad luck that today would be the day I’d meet her.

  “I, uh, ran into traffic this morning. Big accident. Freeway backed up for miles.” I winced. Too much information. What if she asked what freeway? “Uh well, Client…uh… DK0009 has been, uh, successfully matched.” I stumbled over how to refer to him. Now that we’d gotten intimate, it seemed too revealing to call him by his name, even though I’d been calling him Caid since the beginning.

&nbs
p; “Yes, to Honey Sugar,” she said.

  “Honey Azúcar,” I corrected.

  “Which means sugar in Spanish.”

  I lifted a shoulder and shook my head. “The names parents give their kids…” Why had I thought it would be good idea to use those pet names? At least I hadn’t called myself Angel Sweet Cheeks.

  “Who only signed up with the agency the day before yesterday.” Evelyn fixed a hard gaze on my face.

  I hoped my hot cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. There’s nothing to link me to Honey—not unless IT had traced my enrollment app to the computer on my desk, which I doubted. Computers processed information with lightning speed; the people who worked with computers…not so much. The Information Technology Department responded notoriously slowly to requests for service. Processing the simplest trouble ticket took forever. It was way too soon for someone from the department to have noticed an anomaly and reported it to “Evie.” Still, I never should have used my work computer.

  “Fortunately so,” I replied. “She turned out to be the most compatible match he’s had.” I intended to brazen this out until the end.

  “You’re sure Honey Azúcar is a real person? The IDA has had a small percentage of catfishing enrollees, people who pretend to be someone they’re not, as well as people who seem to get a kick out of submitting false application requests.”

  That was her concern? “Oh, yes. I’m certain. She’s as real as I am.” I almost choked as soon as the words left my mouth. Brazen was one thing; calling attention to myself was stupid. “After the difficulty in finding an acceptable match for Ca—Client DK0009, I personally vetted her and spoke with her. She’s on the up-and-up.”

  “Caid and Honey have met already?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he’s accepted her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then, it’s done.” She looked at me. “I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time. You did a nice job with the mixer. I didn’t understand the challenge of matching him until I watched him in action.”

  I widened my eyes in surprise. “Uh, thank you.” I didn’t feel a bit guilty about deceiving her. Nope, not at all. Not a bit. Well, maybe a little. But it couldn’t be helped if I intended to keep my J-O-B. Like other Dakonians, Caid was filthy rich by virtue of all the illuvian ore his planet had, but I wanted to earn my own money and not rely on a man for support. Most of all, I loved helping people.

  “I guess he was holding out for his perfect match.” She sighed, and the truth hit me in a flash. Evelyn—Evie—liked him. She’d gone to the mixer to check on me, and, like every other woman who entered into orbit around him, had gotten caught in his gravitational pull. Should I mention I knew she’d slipped him her phone number? Probably…not.

  “Like all the Dakonians, he believes he has one Fated mate. Honey ended up being the one he’d been waiting for.” I couldn’t resist a boast.

  Her pierced lip curled with amusement. “These aliens—they’re so superstitious.”

  I’d believed the same, but her comment irked me. Who’s to say I wasn’t Caid’s Fated mate? Look at all the beautiful, accomplished women he’d rejected in favor of me. For that to happen, there almost had to be some sort of supernatural mojo occurring—or at least the stars and planets had to align.

  “Perhaps there ought to be a notation in the computer system—for future Dakonians,” I suggested. Aside from Caid, we’d gotten lucky thus far in that all the Dakonians had been satisfied with their computer matches. But, I could foresee this situation recurring—not that they would fall for me, but that the IDA could have difficulty matching them while they waited for a zing to signal they’d found their Fated mate. I wished to avoid having my job teeter in the balance every time.

  “I’ll send a ticket over to IT.” She tapped a note into her phone. “Don’t expect a system change anytime soon. They’re a little slow over there.”

  I laughed, and Evelyn smiled. Nothing like a little mutual antipathy to create camaraderie between boss and employee.

  She eyed my roses. “Your flowers are beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” I responded automatically, glanced at them, and nearly fell out of my chair. Oh shit. I riveted on the white card sticking out of the bouquet. Is your father an alien? Because there’s nothing else like you on Earth.—CAID

  The card didn’t appear so little now. It faced me so she couldn’t see it, but if she stood up and leaned over for a sniff—she couldn’t miss it.

  “Boyfriend?” she asked.

  “Um, yeah. Kinda.”

  “Been seeing him long?”

  Getting personal, wasn’t she? Let’s get back to client numbers and matchmaking quotas, compatibility rankings, IT being so unhelpful. All the important, safe stuff.

  “Not long.” Did I mention how late to work I was?

  “You’re lucky. I’ve dated a lot of jerks and had way too many dry spells. Good men are hard to find these days. If the Intergalactic Dating Agency didn’t have personnel policies against employees joining, I would have signed up,” she said a trifle wistfully.

  TMI. The only thing worse than a boss who might can your ass was a supervisor who shared the intimate details of her lackluster love life because that could lead right back to the former. The evidence of my personnel policy breach sat right here on my desk as red as a rose.

  “The agency has its reasons,” I said.

  “You’re right, of course.” She stood up. “Well, I’ve enjoyed our little chat. I’m glad I got to meet you and put a face to the voice I hear over the phone. Again, great job on the mixer and the match.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m pleased you came by.” How many lies had I told this morning? Evelyn stepped into the tiny waiting room, and as soon as her back turned, I snatched the card off its little plastic stick and shoved it under my coffee cup. Then I scooted around my desk to escort her and keep her moving in the right direction—out of my office.

  “Are you meeting with all the match coordinators?” I asked nonchalantly.

  On her way out of my office and hair—I was almost home free—Evelyn paused. “Yes, and a few other employees. I’ll be here until tomorrow.”

  The outer door opened, and Caid stepped in. My shoes dangled from his hand.

  Chapter Ten

  Caid

  The presence of Evie, the drink preparer from the hotel mixer, and the dismay on my mate’s face brought me up short.

  Jessie could have retrieved her shoes when we saw each other after her work, but returning them provided an excuse to see her. Yesterday morning, I’d despaired. Last night had delivered a complete reversal of fortune—she’d come to me, we’d scaled the heights again and again and had sealed our bond, emotionally and physically. Though I’d felt secure in her devotion, our intimacy had increased my longing. My hut seemed empty without her. I couldn’t wait to see my mate again, so I decided to surprise her with a visit.

  She was surprised, all right, but not in a good way. Her eyes radiated panic, and she motioned with her wrist as if to say, “go away.”

  Like a hungry predator ready to pounce on her next meal, Evie sized me up. “Were your ears burning? Jessie and I were just talking about you,” she said, licking her lips.

  My ears were fine. The drink mixer’s obvious interest made me uncomfortable, but it was the least of my worries. My mate’s dismay at my visit concerned me more. Had I interrupted something important? I couldn’t have read too much into last’s night’s intimacy…could I? Hadn’t she admitted her feelings for me? We’d found pleasure together; we’d engaged in relations several times. Why did Jessie look at me like she wished I was anyplace but here? I’d come to her office many times before.

  “I, uh, brought back your sh—”

  She snatched the shoes from my hands. “I’ll be sure they get back to Honey. You could have waited to give them to her when you saw her again, but thanks for bringing them by.” She motioned at the office do
or as a hint I should leave.

  “Honey?” I didn’t understand what was going on. “Who’s Honey? These are your—”

  Jessie grabbed my arm and shoved me toward the corridor. “Ha. Ha. You’re such a joker. I’ll take care of the shoes.”

  Evie tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Honey Azúcar…your date?”

  No one at the Intergalactic Dating Agency could know we were mated because it would be considered fraternization, which violated the rules, but Evie had no connection to the IDA, she was a bartender from the hotel, so I said, “Honey?” I shook my head. I had no idea who that was. “No, Jessie is my mate.”

  “He’s such a kidder.” Jessie’s laugh sounded forced. “Back to that again? Caid, I’ve told you I can’t be your mate. You chose Honey.”

  Pain lanced through me. She was repudiating me? Rejecting me? “But I thought…after last night…we had relations—” I couldn’t believe this was happening, that she would treat me like this after what she’d shared. First she rejected my advances, then she said she loved me, now she pushed me away again? Did last night mean nothing to her? This morning? How could she toy with me this way?

  No matter what Jessie did, she would always be my mate, and I would never stop loving her, but so much hurt collided inside, it shot off sparks of anger.

  “Maybe I should have chosen Honey!” I pivoted and stalked out of the office, slamming the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jessie

  Caid left, and my heart seized up. He’d looked crushed, devastated. I’d tried to signal with my eyes I didn’t mean what I was saying, but he’d misunderstood. He believed I’d rejected him.

  Why had he brought back the darn shoes? I could have gotten them tonight.

  I swallowed, trying to force down the lump in my throat. I would never forget the shock and pain on his face. I’d hurt the man I adored, the man who loved me and who’d never done anything but demonstrate his appreciation for me. I knew with the certainty of the sun rising in the morning, Caid wouldn’t have treated me the way I’d acted. He wouldn’t have refused to claim me, or have denied we were together.