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Noone Else on Earth

Page 8

by Jeanne Barrack


  The following pose found him face down, and then, as though he were doing push-ups, he lifted his hips straight-legged from the floor. The movements that came after eliminated any doubt as to whether or not he was doing calisthenics.

  With his head thrown back and the grapes lying neglected as he undulated his body, one knew that he was fucking an imaginary partner.

  His thrusts grew more forceful as the music picked up its pace, growing wilder and more like a bacchanalia. One final lunge bowed his back and lifted his crotch from the floor.

  He was as rigid as a tent pole, the white thong and fig leaf covering, but not concealing, his length.

  A sigh ran through the spectators.

  The lights went off and then on. He was posed back on his low pedestal, his profile to the front of the audience displaying his rampant manhood.

  The lights went out again.

  Vigorous applause thundered once more.

  Julie did a spontaneous happy dance behind the bar.

  They were going to have one helluva show tonight!

  * * * * *

  Mike and Tzahyad accepted the accolades of their fellow contestants with varying degrees of graciousness.

  The overwhelming feeling running through Mike was relief.

  He hadn’t been sure he could pull it off. When he’d stepped on the stage, he had to quell an immediate urge to flee. Then, as the power of the music took hold of him, he lost himself in the routine he’d cooked up, and he’d made it through.

  He wiped off the make-up and shrugged into a robe. He needed a shower real bad.

  He got into line, tapping his foot, wishing the line would move faster. He wasn’t sure how long Julie would stay at the club. He clutched his kit containing his palm-sized portable communication device and prayed that he’d be able to contact his boss.

  Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Finally, his turn.

  He locked the door and showered quickly. Leaving the water running, he sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, pulled out the device, and changed to text mode; he couldn’t chance anyone hearing him talk out loud to an empty room.

  Eschewing formalities, he typed his first message and hit send.

  I’m in a bind.

  And fortunate day to you, too, Mike. Has your time among the Earth people eroded your manners?

  Cut the crap. I need your help. I may have jeopardized the mission.

  What’s happened?

  Mike paused, then shrugged. Might as well tell him straight up. He’d need every bit of info if the boss was to come up with some means of pulling his ass out of the fire.

  I shared my essence with one of the females in the hunting sector.

  How much?

  Only my sperm. I withheld my fangs from piercing her.

  Only your sperm. Envision me laughing with irony. We sent you to track Tzahyad because we believed that your affinity for his predatory style would give you an edge. And we knew your guilt over your partner’s demise. Were we wrong in giving you this mission? Should we call you back and give it to another whose essence will not be picked up by Tzahyad? What are your feelings?

  Mike couldn’t believe it. Was he being given another chance?

  I’ve invested too much time and effort into this mission. It would take too long to transfer someone else down here, and they wouldn’t be able to come up with a cover that would get them as close to the center of Tzahyad’s feeding as I have. I need to keep Julie out of harm’s way. I have to be near her in case he decides to question her regarding the identity of the man with whom she had sex, but if he’s aware of my proximity or actually sees me with her, he’ll probably figure out what my cover is. Any ideas?

  We haven’t been idle while you’ve been away. The lab people have come up with a potential shield that can hide your energy for brief periods of time. It’s not foolproof; it hasn’t been tested in the field, but it’s better than nothing. How much Earth time before the female is in jeopardy?

  I figure another seven hours. She’ll be vulnerable after the show is over.

  Seven hours. You cut it very close, Mike. Your Julie must have been quite diverting.

  She’s not my Julie. We had sex. It’s been a while. And the reason I didn’t touch base sooner had nothing to do with it. Just tell me if you can transport the device to me in time.

  It’ll be there in six hours. It’s small enough to fit inside your kit. You’ll find it there when you open it. We’ll include directions.

  How could a text message smirk?

  Don’t fuck up again.

  Mike shut the communication device and let out a whoosh. His ass had been rescued. And so had Julie’s.

  * * * * *

  Connie woke up with a start. For a second she couldn’t remember where she was.

  Then she did. And the reason why.

  The blinds were drawn. The room was dark. The clock on the nightstand read nine-thirty.

  Nine-thirty!

  She sat up, the blanket falling to her waist. Was Gary on his way?

  “Connie? Are you up?”

  Crap, he was already here!

  “Connie?”

  “Just a minute, Gary. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

  “Take your time. There’s coffee and Danish when you’re ready.”

  She turned on the lights, examined her reflection in the mirror over the dresser, and shuddered. Her cheeks were reddened by the tears she’d shed, her eyes were bloodshot, and her hair looked like a rat’s nest from the tossing and turning she’d done. She needed a shower.

  At the foot of the bed she found the clothes Julie had left for her and took them with her into the small guest bathroom.

  A fresh toothbrush, towels and soap were laid out on the hamper.

  Trust Julie to think of everything.

  Connie jumped in and out of the shower, found Julie’s blow dryer and dried her hair. She unfolded the sweatpants and sweatshirt left for her and smiled.

  Guess Julie hadn’t thought of everything.

  There was no underwear.

  Of course, they weren’t the same size and she was going back for her clothes, but it still felt weird wearing the fleecy sweats with nothing between her skin and her clothes.

  The sneakers and socks in the bedroom she’d leave for later. She knew they’d fit. They wore the same size; they’d gone shopping together often enough for her to know that.

  Now to face Gary. And that was going to be the toughest thing of all.

  * * * * *

  Gary leaned against the work island in the kitchen. When he’d come into the house, he’d moved on tiptoe to the guest room and gazed at Connie’s sleeping form.

  He’d been in love with her for longer than he could remember. When Bill had told him he’d married her because she was pregnant, Gary had tamped down his feelings.

  Then he met Suzanne, about as different from Connie as humanly possible. Petite, slim and totally self-absorbed.

  When he made love to her he tried not to think of Connie. But the differences between the two only brought her image more clearly to mind. When he cupped Suzanne’s little plums, he thought of Connie’s overflowing breasts. When her hipbones poked his body, he thought of sinking into Connie’s welcoming flesh. And when he collided with Suzanne’s grasping spirit, he longed for Connie’s generous soul.

  Last night he wanted to kill his best friend. It had been the hardest thing he had done to walk away from him, but Connie needed him. There was no way he was going to let her get hurt again.

  He waited for her now, hoping he could get past his love for her and help her.

  “Gary? You should’ve woken me up sooner.”

  He turned and his breath froze.

  She stood there in Julie’s too-tight sweatshirt and pants, her bare toes tapping on the kitchen tile.

  She was so adorable he wanted to eat her.

  “You had a rough night. I didn’t want to wake you. Plenty of time to get your stuff. Sit down. I’ll get you some coffee.
How do you take it?”

  “Sweet, with plenty of milk. But you don’t have to wait on me. I’m not an invalid.”

  He shook his head. “I know you, Connie. You’re always waiting on people.” He found the sugar bowl and grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge, setting them on the table. “Any chance of Bill staying home this morning? I don’t want a confrontation with him.”

  “Friday morning’s the weekly agent meeting. He’d never miss that.” She stirred the milk and sugar in the cup, her spoon going round and round. “I used to bake cakes and cookies for him to take. What an idiot I was. All those times he said he was seeing clients, he was probably seeing Suzanne. Oh, Gary, I’m so sorry.”

  “What the hell do you have to be sorry for? Suzanne was a slut. I should never have married her.”

  “Why did you then?”

  “Because I couldn’t have the woman I wanted.”

  “Oh, Gary, I didn’t know. I’m so very sorry.”

  “You should be.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to marry you.”

  She laughed out loud. “Thanks. I needed a good laugh.”

  He shook his head. “You really don’t believe me? When Bill told me he had to marry you because his mother made him, I wanted to punch him out then and there. Bastard didn’t realize what he had in you from the beginning. But I thought he’d fall in love with you if he got the chance, if you had kids. Hell, any man would fall in love with you. So, I didn’t say anything.

  “I married Suzanne because she was nothing at all like you. And all that did was make me want you more. Bill said you’d miscarried, and I felt sorry for the son of a bitch.”

  “I wasn’t pregnant. It was a false alarm.” She shook her head. “I can’t have kids. Bill got tested. It’s my fault.” She muffled a sob. “I thought he was so good, staying married to me, but he probably didn’t divorce me because of his mother. And his precious image of a happy wife and home.”

  He sat across the table from her and clasped her hand. “Bill’s out of your life. You’ll get a lawyer and get rid of the bastard.”

  “I will. And thank you.” She took a deep breath. Might as well confess her secret. “You must know how I feel about you. It’s been hard to be around you. I felt so disloyal to Bill. So thank you for saying that you love me. You’re so sweet.”

  He stood abruptly. “I’m not sweet. I don’t only love you, damn it, I want you! What’s it going to take to make you believe me? Do you want proof of how much I want to fuck you? Here.”

  He pulled his crewneck shirt over his head, unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned the top button. His zipper was next. He drew it down, shucking the jeans and letting them fall to the floor. He stepped out of his loafers and kicked away his jeans.

  He was erect. His long cock tented the front of his jock. His sinewy thighs and flat stomach gleamed as though they were polished oak.

  He smoothed his hand along the underside of his penis, then cupped his balls.

  “This isn’t gratitude or kindness, sugarplum.” He stepped directly in front of her. “This is pure grade-A lust.” He took the coffee cup from her nerveless fingers and placed her hand on his cotton-covered rigid flesh. “What do you say to that?”

  She pulled down the waistband, curled her fingers around him, and looked up. “Fuck me.”

  She squeezed and he groaned.

  “Not too hard, sugar, or I’ll come in your hand.”

  She dropped her hand as she rose from the chair. She took a breath and smiled. “Wouldn’t want to waste that beautiful hard-on.”

  He bent and lifted her in his arms, striding out of the kitchen to the guestroom. Setting her down in front of the door, he twisted the knob.

  “No turning back now, sugar.” He grinned. “I’m getting damn cold standing out here naked. Let’s get under the covers.”

  She raced to the bed, smiling. Kneeling on the mattress, she pulled off her top and wriggled out of her pants. He got rid of his jock strap and sat at the foot of the bed watching her artless striptease. “No underwear?”

  “Thank Julie. She forgot to leave me any.”

  “Better believe it.”

  She draped herself against his back, her nipples pricking his skin. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she closed her eyes and sighed. Her arms swept around him and their fingers twined.

  “It feels so right holding you, Gary. I shouldn’t feel so happy.”

  He shifted and brought her into his arms, cradling her. “You deserve to be happy, sugar.” He smiled down on her. “And I’m gonna make you very, very, very happy.”

  He cupped her face, smoothed the soft skin of her cheek and took her lips. He teased her mouth open, licking her lips, thrusting his tongue within her warmth, tangling with her tongue.

  He moved his hand to her breasts, fondling them, kneading them, loving them.

  Loving her.

  His lips left hers, trailing down her jaw, her neck. They drifted back to her ear and he blew gently.

  She shivered.

  “Cold, sweetheart? Let’s get the blanket on you.”

  She reached up to his strong jaw rough with the heavy beard he couldn’t quite get rid of completely.

  “I’d rather be under you.”

  “Soon.”

  Connie scooted under the soft flannel sheet. She lay on her back waiting for him.

  She didn’t wait long.

  He straddled her, resting his weight on his elbows.

  “I don’t have a condom with me, sugar, and I can’t take a chance. I’ll have to pleasure you with my mouth and my fingers.”

  She smoothed back his hair from his forehead. “I told you, darling, I can’t have kids.” She grabbed his cock. “Now, put that puppy where it belongs.”

  He spread her legs and pushed his fingers in her core. She was dripping, soft, ready.

  He plunged right in.

  God, she felt good.

  He cupped her sweet round bottom and lifted her up. He sank within her body, pumping, driving, pleasuring her, pleasuring himself.

  Faster, deeper, harder, until their climax broke them into a million pieces.

  He fell on her, then quickly moved to her side, gathering her in his arms, drawing her back against his chest.

  “I love you, Connie. Move in with me.”

  Tears collected in her eyes. It couldn’t be possible. He loved her. “Yes. Oh, God, yes.”

  He pulled her even closer, playing with her breasts. His hand drifted to the curls between her thighs, and he tangled his fingers in the soft hair.

  “Oh, baby, I could lie here with you all fucking day. Christ, you feel so damn good.”

  She squirmed in his arms, relishing the feeling of safety and love. Her eyes drifted shut as she let her guard down and surrendered to Gary’s soothing voice murmuring love words in her ear.

  She slept.

  * * * * *

  Three-thirty, Julie fumed. Where the hell was Gary? Could something have happened to Connie? Why hadn’t they called?

  As though she had conjured it, the phone rang. She picked it up, and heard Gary’s sheepish voice.

  “I’m sorry. Julie.”

  “Is everything okay? Is Connie all right?”

  A giggle sounded in the background over the phone.

  “Well, that’s the reason we ran so late.” She heard him take a breath. “Connie’s moving in with me. We wound up moving more of her stuff than she first thought.” He snorted. “I wasn’t going to have her leave the good furniture she’d brought from her folks’ place or any of her clothes or the PC she’d paid for herself. We got a storage bin for her.” He paused. “Listen, I’m bringing Connie over with me. We’ll be there in a half hour. You can go home and get a couple of hours rest.”

  “Don’t hassle it, Gary. I’ll sleep in late tomorrow. I brought my change of clothes with me. I’ll use the powder room in the office.” She paused. “And Gary, tell Connie congratulations.”

  “Thanks,
boss lady. We’ll be there soon.”

  Julie hung up the phone, a silly grin on her face. Tired as she was, hearing about Gary and Connie revitalized her.

  The last act was just about finished. They’d have a couple of hours break and then at six- thirty, the doors would open. They expected some women to come early for dinner before the show at eight. Others would come later.

  Julie rubbed her eyes, knowing that she shouldn’t but too tired to care. She went back to the office glad she’d brought the garment bag with her clothes with her.

  This time she locked the door behind her.

  * * * * *

  Tzahyad stared after Julie as she entered her office, sorely tempted to confront her now and find out which one of the men was his tracer. He drew upon that infinite patience that had helped him exist for more than ten times the span of these pitiful creatures and decided to wait. He’d sup on the redhead first, than visit Miss Julie. He’d just follow the tracer’s scent on her. Simple.

  This tracer was careless. Sooner or later he’d reveal himself. The tracer bore no weapon of which he was aware that could kill his kind. He could only attempt to capture him.

  And he’d fail.

  He grinned, baring his teeth in the shadows of the club, and absentmindedly stroked his medallion. He’d stoke up his energy on the plump, tasty female. Judging from the cries of passion that had echoed from the redhead’s window the other night, he was in for a tasty meal.

  * * * * *

  Connie and Gary arrived while Julie was still in the office. The place was buzzing with the discordant mix of a dozen different tunes sounding on personal players or boom boxes as most of the men opted for going over their routines once more in their heads rather than eating.

  Connie hovered near the end of the bar as Gary set up the glasses, checked that they had a full supply of mixes, plenty of beer on tap and all the myriad things necessary to keep the drinks flowing without a hitch.

  The kitchen would be ready by six. The waiters and waitresses would clock in then and be assigned to tables.

  Nothing could go wrong tonight.

  Connie watched Gary’s sinewy fingers deftly cut up lemons and limes, and shivered as she remembered those same fingers plunging inside her, finding that nubbin of flesh and bringing her to an earth-shattering climax. He urged her to try new positions, to move, to tell him what she liked. Unlike Bill, he made sure she was satisfied before he took his own release.

 

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