Haunted Alien Honeymoon: Stargazer Alien Reality Show Brides #3

by Black, Tasha

  And inviting him onto her bed?

  The mattress groaned as Wayne climbed on and sat beside her, notebook in hand.

  “I don’t want to interrupt what you were working on,” he said. “I can wait until you’re finished with the dailies.”

  “Actually, I was going to go back to my bungalow and call my wife and the girls,” Al said. “Can we pick this up in the morning?”

  “Of course,” Olivia said.

  “I’m going to slip out the back door,” Al said. “I’ve been wanting to get a look at the woods at night.”

  Olivia was shocked for a moment. Why would he go out into the jungle instead of using her front door?

  Then she realized what he was doing.

  He was leaving out the back so that anyone paying attention wouldn’t realize she was alone with Wayne.

  Al hopped off the bed and winked at her again, then disappeared out the glass sliding door into the trees.

  Olivia stared after him in wonder.

  “He has a wife and children,” Wayne said softly. “He must miss them terribly.”

  She turned back to him, surprised that he was finally alone with her in her bed, and he was worrying about another man’s family.

  But that was typical of Wayne - so focused on the happiness of others.

  “Al is a very talented cameraman,” Olivia explained. “His work provides for his family. And they often travel with him.”

  “Why aren’t they with him this time?” Wayne asked.

  “Because his wife is pregnant,” Olivia said with a smile, sensing that this news would delight the big-hearted alien.

  Wayne’s eyebrows lifted slightly and then he gave her a crinkly-eyed smile. “Another daughter,” he said reverently.

  “Or a son,” Olivia allowed.

  “In any case, a great happiness,” Wayne said.

  Olivia nodded. Suddenly there was a lump in her throat.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Wayne asked.

  “No, not at all,” Olivia said. “I’m very happy for Al and Yolanda.”

  Wayne nodded, his dark eyes studying her in a sympathetic way.

  “I guess… I guess I’m worried that maybe I’ll never have children of my own,” Olivia was shocked to hear herself admit.

  This wasn’t something she talked about with anyone. Ever.

  “Why would you worry about that?” Wayne asked. “Aren’t you allowed to choose when to have babies?”

  “In theory, yes,” Olivia replied thoughtfully. “Our society allows women more freedom than it used to. In my grandmother’s generation a woman not wanting to get married and have babies as soon as possible would have made her seem like a monster.”

  “But you are allowed to take your time in choosing a mate and multiplying,” Wayne said. “This is good. It means you can have adventures first.”

  “But you see how it is with my job,” Olivia said. “It’s late at night and I’m still working. Or at least I should be. That wouldn’t be good for family life.”

  “Do you expect your job to change?” Wayne asked.

  “As I make a name for myself, I’ll have more leverage,” she told him. “I’ll be able to choose projects that have a schedule that works better for having babies.”

  “So you will wait,” Wayne said with satisfaction.

  “A man could do that,” Olivia said. “But women stop being fertile as they grow older. So waiting a long time could be a problem.”

  “When will you stop being fertile?” Wayne asked sounding surprised.

  “We don’t know exactly,” Olivia admitted. “For each woman it is different.”

  He was quiet for a moment, sadness on his face.

  In a way it was healing to see his reaction.

  He didn’t judge her for wanting to wait - maybe until it was too late. He understood the injustice of having a body that forced a choice.

  “I understand there are children on your planet who have no guardians,” he said after a moment. “Could you not take in one of these young when you are prepared for motherhood - like Mr. Drummond and his boys.”

  Olivia was reminded how much of Wayne’s worldview had been formed by watching movies and TV shows from the eighties.

  “It’s not that simple,” She explained. “But yes, adopting is something I think about. But a lot of men would prefer to have their own children.”

  “Wouldn’t they be your own children?” Wayne asked, sounding mystified.

  “Well, yes, of course they would. But they wouldn’t be biologically related,” Olivia said. “They wouldn’t look like me, for example.”

  “Is that important to you?” Wayne asked.

  She shook her head.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about taking me as your mate,” he said slowly. “But I want you to know that I would be proud to raise a child with you - whether it was a child from your womb or a child you chose. I wouldn’t care what she looked like.”

  Olivia launched herself into his arms, hot tears prickling her eyes.

  “Olivia,” he murmured.

  Suddenly the world was fading away. There was nothing but the warmth of Wayne’s arms, the throb of her heart.

  The pull between them was magnetic and she felt helpless in its thrall.

  She nuzzled his neck, breathing in his masculine scent.

  He groaned and his arms tightened around her.

  It felt like the most natural thing in the world to slide onto his lap, straddling him, pressing her forehead to his as she felt him turn to steel between her legs.

  “Olivia,” he whispered again, tension in his jaw. “What are you doing?”

  She wasn’t sure. She only knew that this felt right, that he felt right.

  Instead of answering, she brushed his lips with hers, so lightly it sent shivers down her spine.

  Wayne growled in surrender, then suddenly he was devouring her mouth, thumbing open her jaw to stroke her tongue with his.

  Olivia felt her whole body go weak with need. She didn’t protest when he rolled them over on the bed, pinning her beneath him.

  He pulled back slightly, his beautiful brown eyes hazy with lust.

  “Is this what you want?” he asked her.

  “Yes,” she told him.

  “For tonight or forever?” he asked.

  She reached for him again and he kissed her without pressing for an answer.

  He was gentler this time, the ocean after the storm - not rushing to find satisfaction, but focused, searing.

  When he pulled back, tears were prickling her eyes again, though she wasn’t sure why.

  He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her chin.

  She smiled up at him.

  He nuzzled her neck, his scratchy jaw tickling her a little.

  Olivia sighed, waves of desire coursing through her.

  Wayne placed a kiss on her collarbone and another on the hollow of her throat.

  He slid lower, toyed with the top button of her pajama top.

  She could see her nipples, stiff against the satin fabric as if reaching for his mouth.

  “Olivia, I need to see you,” he murmured.

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  He released each button slowly, his big hands gentle.

  Olivia reeled at the sensation of his warm hands on her, the cool air of the room.

  “Oh, Olivia…” His voice was reverent.

  When he lowered his head to press kisses on her breasts it took all she had not to cry out.

  10

  Wayne

  Wayne prayed to the gods of Earth and Aerie for strength.

  It was impossible to keep control over his instincts when his body was resting between Olivia’s soft thighs, his hands and mouth feasting on her glorious breasts, the sweet sounds of her pleasure in his ears.

  I will not claim her until she is ready.

  But her nipples were stiff as pearls in his mouth and her fingernails sank into his arms, mingling a flicker of pa
in with the pleasure that coursed through him.

  She was trembling in his arms, her need so acute that she was losing control over her own desire.

  This knowledge overwhelmed him and he fed on her breasts with renewed vigor, nipping and sucking harder with her every sigh and whimper.

  Her response to his touch was addictive. Every moment refined his understanding of what drove her wild.

  When her hips began to lift up to him, he licked his way down her belly to the place where her pants blocked him from paradise.

  He tucked his thumbs under the waistband, and she lifted her hips again to make it easy for him to slide the slippery fabric off.

  A scrap of lace so flimsy as to be a garment only in name was the only thing separating him from her sex.

  He could taste her scent, like saltwater and peaches.

  He pressed his mouth to the lace and nearly came apart at the sound she made.

  “Wayne,” she moaned.

  He kissed one creamy thigh and then the other.

  Olivia was frozen, not even breathing, waiting for him to touch her again.

  He slid his finger under the lace, delicately moving it to the side.

  His cock throbbed at the sight of her - pink, swollen and glistening for him.

  And even as he pressed his face to her and he lapped up her honeyed juices to the symphony of her cries, a deeper understanding was unfolding within him.

  This was the driving force of life on the blue and green planet, this need to mate so overpowering that humans would forgo anything to satisfy it.

  Back at the lab they had shown him movies of humans coupling, trying to make him click into this human body. And while they might have had a physical effect on his body, it was only scratching an itch compared to this.

  He was feeding on her pleasure, desperate for it as if some part of himself had been stolen and could only be reached again through her.

  She moaned and angled her hips up, her fingers tangling in his hair.

  Moved by her desire, he swirled his tongue around the stiff little nodule where her need was greatest.

  Olivia cried out hoarsely, and then he could feel her whole body tensing and then releasing as she fluttered against his tongue.

  11

  Olivia

  Olivia gasped for breath, her body still floating from the most intense ecstasy she had ever experienced.

  She held her arms out to Wayne and he crawled up to her, licking her juices from his lips.

  She had intended to thank him, to compliment him on his skills, but her voice caught in her throat at the masculine beauty of him.

  “Olivia,” he whispered. “You are incredible.”

  She pressed her lips to his and she could taste herself on his mouth.

  He kissed her gently, then stretched out beside her, placing a hand on her belly.

  She rolled on her side facing him and slid her hand under his shirt.

  Dear God…

  His abs rippled under her touch, warmth pouring off his golden skin.

  But he took her wrist in his hand, pulling her away.

  “Not tonight, Olivia Fontaine,” he told her.

  “Why not?” she asked, hearing the whine in her voice.

  “I told you, I will not claim you as my mate until you beg,” he said lightly.

  A shock of white-hot need coursed through her at his words, in spite of the pleasure she had just tasted.

  “But, can’t I just…”

  “No,” he told her. “You cannot.”

  But he was smiling that crinkly-eyed smile.

  “Let’s get some rest,” he suggested.

  She wanted to protest, but his warm body was curled around hers now, his hand sliding between her shoulder blades in a way that made her want to close her eyes for a minute.

  “I’ll be gone when you wake up, Olivia,” he murmured. “But only because it’s what you want.”

  She drifted off feeling sad and grateful at once.

  12

  Lex

  Lex sat at the roadside café, fanning himself in the morning heat.

  The constant sun and humidity were messing with his skin. He felt like he was swimming just walking around in this godforsaken country.

  “Holá, señor,” a waitress said, scurrying over to him. “What can I offer you for breakfast?”

  “Let me guess,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Rice, beans and plantains?”

  “A traditional Costa Rica breakfast, señor, of course,” she replied enthusiastically. “Do you want fresh coffee?”

  “You don’t have doughnuts or bagels or something?” he asked.

  “No, señor, I am sorry,” she said sadly. “I think you can get that kind of food at the hotel?”

  “Never mind,” he said. “Just bring a plate of whatever and plenty of coffee, and some juice.”

  “Coming right up, señor,” she said, happy again. “And for your friend?”

  Friend?

  He turned and almost jumped out of his chair.

  Tag Tuckerton must have arrived during his order and seated himself quietly. The reality show wedding planner was wearing a large pair of dark sunglasses with a sweater tied around his neck.

  “Oh, I’ll have what he’s having,” Tag said politely. “Thank you, señorita.”

  She smiled at them and dashed off, presumably to get their drinks.

  “Jesus, Tuckerton, you snuck up on me,” Lex snapped.

  “Don’t use my real name,” Tag hissed.

  “Are you kidding me?” Lex howled. “Tag! Tag! Anybody here give a flying fuck about Tag Tuckerton?” he called out, looking around.

  Tag slouched in his chair, trying to disappear.

  None of the other diners paid them any mind.

  “See? Nobody gives a shit,” he said to Tuckerton, rolling his eyes.

  Stupid talent. They had no sense of context, not like you got behind the camera.

  “Whatever, Lex, what do you want?” Tag said.

  “What do I want?” Lex echoed bitterly. “What I want is to know why you can’t pull this off.”

  “Because your plan sucks,” Tag hissed back.

  “No,” Lex said, taking a deep breath. There was no point getting angry at each other. “No, they suck. The women, the big stupid men - all of them. Why can’t they catch a hint? They should be connecting the dots by now.”

  “Make it easier for them,” Tag said shrugging.

  “How?” Lex asked.

  “Didn’t you work on that de-bunking show?” Tag asked him. “You should know all the tricks. Just… bunk them!”

  “You obviously don’t get how complex those scams were,” Lex said. “There’s a reason they had to be debunked by professionals, not just pointed out by school children.”

  “Here is your traditional Costa Rica breakfast, señors,” the waitress said happily, setting two heaping plates of bland vegetables before them as if she were offering them suitcases of cash or something. “Coffee is on the way.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Lex said, eager to get back to the conversation.

  “Thank you very much,” Tag said, nodding and treating the poor waitress to one of his big fake-looking smiles.

  She fell for it, of course, smiling back and nodding at him, both of them looking like a pair of bobbly headed dolls in the back of a Datsun.

  A waiter arrived a moment later with the coffee and juice, putting a merciful end to the grinning and bobbing.

  Of course the juice wasn’t just juice, it was pink with a froth of cream on top and a twisty straw, like a milkshake a little kid would drink.

  At least they were alone again.

  “Such lovely people here,” Tag said benevolently, watching the waiters go.

  “Easy for you to say from your ivory tower,” Lex scoffed. “Wait until you get your wallet stolen.”

  “That’s completely racist,” Tag said, sitting up straighter in his chair, but not exactly storming off.

  �
�Take it easy, Harriet Tubman, I’ve got an idea,” Lex said. His earlier words had triggered a pretty damned good plan.

  “I’m not sure I want to hear it,” Tag sniffed, taking a sip of his girly juice drink.

  “Oh, please, you want revenge as much as I do,” Lex said. “Or did you forget already that they fired you?”

  Tag didn’t say anything, but his jaw clenched and he sat back in his seat.

  “That’s more like it,” Lex said, taking a big bite of the rice on his plate.

  He chewed slowly, making Tag wait. He didn’t like the snotty little prick, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and he needed a partner for any of this to work.

  That was why Tag had followed him here to Costa Rica, why he had agreed to meet him in public.

  “What’s your plan?” Tag asked after a moment.

  “It’s going to work a little better,” Lex said slowly. “I’m kicking it up a notch. You’ll have the details when the time is right.”

  “How do I know it’s a good plan if you don’t tell me what it is?” Tag asked.

  “Oh it’s a good plan,” Lex said. “As long as you do your part.”

  “Don’t worry about me, baby,” Tag said, flicking his sunglasses up briefly. “Tag Tuckerton always delivers.” He dropped his sunglasses down on his nose again.

  Lex rolled his eyes and took a sip of coffee.

  It was actually pretty damned good.

  Maybe this was the start of everything turning around.

  He looked out over the street. A kid was walking a dog and a couple of tourists were eating ice cream cones, pointing up at something in the trees, then a monkey swung down from a porch overhang and swiped the guy’s ice cream cone.

  Classic.

  A light breeze lifted Lex’s wispy hair, soothing his chafed skin.

  Beside him, Tag Tuckerton was mercifully quiet. His pretty-boy mouth too full of beans and rice to spew any nonsense.

  Yes. Things were definitely looking up for Lex.

  13