ROMANCE: MY ALIEN KING: Scifi Alien Invasion Abduction Contemporary Romance (Paranormal Fantasy BBW Alien Contact Anthologies & Collections Book 1) (88 page)

Her lips were pulped and bruised from that kiss, her senses reeling. Her hands found her dress’ top. She pushed the halves over her breasts aside and his mouth found her nipples, his teeth gripping the stiffened peaks just lightly as his tongue moved across the pebble-hard surfaces.

He yanked her panties down. They hovered on his fingers for a moment and then they flew into the air, a tiny scrap of silk and lace, and hurling over the edge of the building and into the wind.

Her breath came in hard gasps. Her toes dug into his claves as she climbed up his body. His hands freed his erection from his pants and he growled out, “Condom—somewhere. Got it!” They repositioned themselves and she helped him to roll the latex along his hard length, delighting in the feel of his silky flesh and the pounding muscles below.

Her legs went around his waist and the bottom side of her upper thighs rested in his hands. Her back scraped the wall again. Their mouths met. She let her hips sink forward. The tip of his cock nudged against the wet and swollen opening to her channel. He shifted and lifted just a little, and she glided down that hard and pulsing rod of his, her cry a small and delighted murmur as he filled her body with his hot and swollen member.

His flesh parted hers. Silken oils dripped from her sweet and tight inner folds, coating his cock. His teeth met her neck, her ear, and then her bottom lip, tugging gently before he kissed her again, so furiously it made her head spin.

His hips arched upward, thrusting his organ deeper into those wet and heated folds. His hand came around her body and she held on more tightly, her arms wrapping around his neck as he found the erect nub of her clit and circled it expertly before massaging it in a fierce back and forth stroke that he alternated with those tiny circles. His hips moved harder and faster. Lost in sensation, in the smell of his cologne and the scent of their sex drifting up around them, Carrie clenched her teeth and moved faster too, impaling herself on his dick.

His fingers continued to manipulate her clit and her body shook as she neared the edge of an approaching orgasm. Her ankles locked and her body moved up and down, releasing his quivering cock then sinking back onto it with a desperate force.

She came. Her walls clenched and released. Her fingers tightened and her nails dug deeply into his jacket, bunching and wrinkling it. Her eyes closed tight and then opened wide. His breath came in a hard gasp, and she struggled to stay moving even though her body wanted to just go limp and slump into his as the aftershocks rippled through her body, intensifying the pleasure of his every thrust.

She felt him come. He let out a small pained gasp and went stiff, then loosened. His body slammed into hers, making her breath escape in a long whoosh. His cock throbbed and pulsed inside her body, spurting hot seed into the condom’s tip.

Long moments passed. Stunned, blinking, and suddenly far too aware of just how dangerous what they had done was, Carrie moved so that he could withdraw from her, raising her hips a final time as his flaccid dick slid from her body.

He backed away slowly, his hands on her waist to steady her. Her shoes lay abandoned and forgotten, and she stared at them. One was dangerously close to the edge. What would she do if it tumbled over?

Her panties were gone and her swollen folds dripped fluids down her inner thighs. Her mouth, kissed so fiercely by his, ached, and her back felt scratched and sore.

Brad said, “Let me get those shoes.”

He turned away, sliding the condom off and tossing it over the side. She said, “What if there is some old lady down there and she just got a face full of your condom?”

He looked at her, a chagrined expression on his face. Her laughter welled up and then rolled out of her mouth. He stared down at the street, his hands clutching both her shoe, and he looked so abashed and out of his league that she laughed harder.

He said, “God, I am going to spend the rest of my life wondering if I just really did that.”

“You did.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t mean if I tossed it over. I mean what if I really did hit some oldster with flying come?”

She took her shoes and slid them on. The wind outside the ell of the building was strong. It whipped her hair wildly around her face, and his was flying everywhere too.

She said, “I guess we’ll know if it hits the news.”

He guffawed. “There is that.”

She shot a look back along the dark sides of the terrace. Just above them, about thirty feet, was a small bit of light radiating from the windows. She heard a snatch of music and laughter and she sighed. “We should get back in there.”

“Or we could run off and go find a place that serves twenty-four-hour diner food. I don’t know about you, but I hate caviar and truffles, and that seems to be all that’s on the menu in there.”

“Of course it is,” she said softly. “Williams is trying to get you and my father to start a bidding war on that property over by the river. He’s in need of cash thanks to the fail of some stocks he held, and he’s hoping by pitting you two against each other he’ll get over what he originally asked.”

His grin was mild. “I know. How do you know?”

“My father’s determined to have it no matter what.”

He nodded, “I knew that too. I want to see you Carrie, I do. I don’t care what your father does about it either. The question is, do you?”

She considered that. “What you are asking for is pretty dangerous, you know. He doesn’t take things lightly. He’ll do his best to put you right out of business just to prove you don’t deserve me. He already dislikes you.”

“I know.”

She took a deep breath. “You’re willing to risk that?”

He said, “Absolutely.”

Her forehead creased, “But why? I mean, you love your company, and you worked so hard, you and your partners. How can you decide that dating me is worth what is going to happen—and you know as well as I do what will happen. And honestly, I think you and your partners and my dad are lunatics. I told him that that property is not worth a cent, but he won’t listen. He only wants it because you do.”

His face showed surprise. “What do you mean?’

She shook her head. “Businessmen. All of you think a lot alike. You and Dad both want to put up a major shopping center there, and so you are trying to get the land because you think it’s the best spot. But we, the people in this city who make the art and stuff, can give you a hundred reasons why that land’s no good.

“My friend Joy collects earth from there to make pottery. It’s wet. That means there’s water below it somewhere, probably an offshoot of the river that you can’t see because it is underground. I use it for a strike zone—”

He cut in, “A what?”

“A strike zone,” she said. “I plant lightning rods into the sand on the banks because lightning strikes there, naturally, so often that the rods are guaranteed to draw it. That’s how I made that piece you bought for Dante.”

“So you’re telling me that it gets hit by lightning very frequently, and that there might be an underground river below it? We saw nothing like that in the topographical studies.”

“Same thing my dad said. Who paid to have those studies done? The man trying to sell it to you. Oh, and real estate law just says he has to disclose known things. He doesn’t know, for sure, if there’s an underground river or how often lightning will strike. He also, probably, doesn’t know if there’s sinkholes due to the crumbling sediment below, because he has never had it tested. However another friend of mine, a former archeologist-turned-sculptor, has dug remnants of buildings and pottery and all sorts of other stuff there, and old city records show that there was once a large business district there a couple hundred years ago. But it moved and nobody has ever developed anything there ever since. So maybe you should find out why.”

Brad released a long breath. “I see. I’ll tell Dante and we’ll look into it.”

She bit her lip. “Look Brad, I want to see you. But if we are going to see each other, you have to know that it is going to be awful for you, and I don’t know if I want to put you through that.”

“I do know that, if we start dating, what other people try to do might be awful. I don’t think dating you is going to be awful at all. I mean you’re… Jesus, you are one hell of a woman. You can harness lightning, for God’s sake. You’re a smartass and funny as hell. You’re beautiful, and you have zero idea of just how beautiful you are. When I first saw you, I didn’t know either. Then you smiled and looked at me, and I got knocked right on my ass. I haven’t managed to get up yet either. Maybe I never will. I want you. Hell, I would go so far as to say I need you in my life. All I am asking for here is a chance.”

Her heart beat loudly in her ears. Nobody had ever told her she was beautiful, or that she was amazing. People loved her art, but they never said she was loved. Nobody ever told her she mattered the way he was telling her that she mattered right then, and no man had ever been willing to risk her father’s ire or his ill-will the way that Brad was.

He said, “I won’t crowd you. I will let you decide. I mean, I kind of have to. No matter how much I want to be with you, if you don’t want to be with me it doesn’t really matter, now does it?”

She bit her lips. “I do want to be with you Brad but… but I…”

They were interrupted by a loud voice coming toward them. A drunk man had staggered out and was talking angrily to himself. Brad shook his head. “I know him,” he said wearily. “Let me get him back inside before he goes right over the wall there.”

She nodded. Brad walked away to help the other man and she made her way back down the terrace and into the party, one hand going to her hair. Nobody noticed her arrival any more than they had noticed her departure.

The host stood gloating in the center of the room and she shot him an ugly look. It was men like him who incited such powerful competition between companies, and all for their own personal gain.

She made her way to the bar and asked for a glass of wine. Just as she turned away from the bar with that glass in hand she saw Brad walking in, the drunken man leaning on his shoulder heavily.

She made up her mind. She lifted her glass, got the attention of the surrounding people, and said, “Excuse me, folks. I just wanted to let you know that the land you are fighting over is a hunk of useless dirt. It’s going to crumble and you will lose all your money, and if you send out a geologist on your own dime to inspect it before you make any offers, you’ll know why soon enough. “

She set the wine down and walked across the room. Brad set the man into a chair and Dante, his face wearing an assessing look, popped open his phone and she knew he was calling someone to find out if what she had just said was true. Brad looked at him and nodded and Dante nodded back.

She walked up to Brad. He grinned at her broadly. She said, “That ought to get me kicked right out of here, don’t you think?”

He said, “You won’t go alone.”

She smiled and said, “Good. I’d hate to be the only person booted from the party.”

He said, “It’s not too late for a huge pizza and some pitchers of beer, if we hurry. What do you say?”

Her smile was huge. “It’s a date.”

He took her arm. Her father stomed over, his face red and swollen with anger, “Carrie, what do you think you are doing? He’s the enemy!”

She shook her head, “No, the man trying to sell all of you a bum piece of property is the enemy, Dad. I love you, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She turned her back. Brad said, “I won’t let anything happen to her, Heeden,” in a deathly calm voice then he took her hand and they swept out of the overcrowded rooms and into the hallway beyond.

Brad stopped right before the elevator, took her into his arms and kissed her hard. He said, “One thing, before we even leave here.”

She asked, “Yes?”

His grin was devilish. “Do you think someone got hit in the face with your panties?”

They started laughing and that laughter drifted behind them as they walked toward the doors.

THE END

The new employee needs discipline—and who better to adminster it than the president?

Mysterious Maximillian Vaughn is one of the four founding billionaire partners at Rogue Enterprises. Unlike his risk-loving friends, Max prefers to know what he’s getting into, and when it comes to risks he likes to know every chance he’s taking will pay off.
But from the moment he lays eyes on Rogue Enterprise’s newest hire, she brings out the master in him, the darkly passionate man who is looking for a woman with the same edgy and forbidden desires.

Maybe it’s time to take a gamble.

Jill Widefield is ambitious and talented, and since she came up from a bad neighborhood she’s also determined to make it to the top and be as successful as in her wildest dreams. But when she takes a job at Rogue Enterprises, she finds herself fighting against a tide of taboo passions that could derail everything she ever thought she wanted.

I know it’s all wrong, but I can’t deny the power he’s had over me since the moment we met.

Max and Jill are attracted from the first moment they meet. But will she be able to handle the sheer force of Max’s kink?

The soaring building that housed Rogue Enterprises stood proud and high against the city skyline, its many windows throwing refractions of sunlight back into the clear, still air and deep blue sky.

Jill stood in front of the revolving doors, clutching her messenger bag and trying to get her nerves quieted down. Easier said than done.

She’d just landed a plum job at the corporation that was redefining the words wealth and power, and that meant that she would have a hand in not only reshaping the city—which had steadily grown under Rogue’s guidance—but in the future of that company too.

She fidgeted and took a deep breath. The revolving doors slid in neat circles, and she recalled that revolving doors had been invented to help maintain air pressure inside skyscrapers, an ingenious and simple solution that had revolutionized architecture. Innovation at its simplest and most powerful.

She gulped hard and walked toward the doors. She caught sight of her reflection in the windows. Perfect crisp blouse. Pencil skirt with just a hint of a slit, and a wide belt. Good shoes. Her blonde hair was swept up into a neat coil, revealing the planes and angles of her face. She’d gone with minimal makeup, just a dash of mascara on her naturally thick lashes and a pretty pink matte lipstick to emphasize her slightly too-generous mouth.

Her slender shoulders were up high and square, and the blouse showed the gentle swell of her breasts and the narrow tuck of her waist while the skirt slid neatly over her lean hips and long legs. She didn’t look like a small-town girl. Neither did she look like the girl who had often been the target of schoolyard bullies because she was so plain and skinny. That gave her an additional boost of confidence, and she walked into the lobby and up to the desk briskly. She had her ID badge already, and she knew which floor to go to. She headed to the elevator, squeezing into the car with at least a dozen others. There was little room and she found herself smashed into a corner, trying to make herself even smaller and keep her bag at her side as the car started upward.

It hit the second floor with a bump and a shudder. The doors whooshed open. The man standing next to her turned his face to hers and she drew a sharp breath.

God he was handsome, and around her age—not quite thirty. His face was carved like rock. All sharp cheekbones and full lips, straight black eyebrows and piercing gray eyes. His hair was a rich, thick auburn color, and the scent rising off his natty suit was purely intoxicating. Soap and expensive cologne mingled with a masculine scent that came from his skin to form something so incredible that she wanted to sniff it again and again.

The car let two people out and she heaved a sigh of relief, but then three more crowded in. Her hip bumped the narrow hip of the sexy man next to her and she muttered a brief sorry.

His body was tight against hers now. Her pulse raced. Heat spread through her entire body and she had to force her teeth together to keep herself from licking her lips in a nervous gesture.

The car continued upward. The vibrations running up from the bottom of it spread up from the soles of her shoes into her calves and then thighs. Her fingers clutched the bag more tightly.

He shifted slightly. His body pressed against hers. She knew there was not an inch of space to spare in the car, and her other side was mashed so hard against the little steel corner her ribs ached. She looked at him again and he nodded slightly, a little gesture that said he understood. He was crowded on either side as well. When the doors opened to let a few more people out he said, “Hit the close door button.”

She could see people dashing toward the elevator. Her thumb shot out and the doors closed. He moved slightly away from her, giving her space to breathe, but the phantom warmth from his body still clung to hers and she had an almost irrational urge to lean closer to him to get more of that heat.

The others in the elevator were silent. They got off in twos and threes and eventually it was just her and the stunningly handsome man in the car.

She said, “You’re going to twenty-five too?”

“Yes. I keep telling the partners they need an express elevator for the employees on that floor.”

She allowed herself to smile. “I think there is an express, but it’s just for the partners.”

His eyes met hers. That gaze was weighty and assessing. “Do you think that’s fair?”

“Maybe they have to get places faster than the rest of us.” She wasn’t comfortable saying anything else.

“That could very well be.” There was amusement in his tone. The car stopped and the doors opened. She stepped out onto the twenty-fifth floor and looked right and left.

The offices up there were all extraordinarily well-appointed and large. As she passed a few she saw opulent paintings and carpets, caught sight of massive desks and long sofas. And those were just the areas that the assistants worked in!

Her nerves rose up again. Was she really capable of working here, on this rarified floor?

The man walked beside her. She swallowed down her doubts and asked, “Do you work up here as well?”

“I do.” His voice was low and smoky. It reminded her of whiskey, all honeyed burn and deep notes. “I’m Maximillian Vaughn.”

Her face paled. Maximillian Vaughn, one of the four self-made billionaires who had started Rogue Enterprises years ago.

She spoke without thinking. “Oh. I thought you would be older.”

He stopped walking. Heat hit her face and ran from her chin to her hairline. She opened her mouth, trying to think of anything that would lessen the inanity of that series of words.

“I usually hear, ‘I thought you’d be taller.’” His lips curved upward in a smile that was not only genuine, but that showed square white teeth which were perfectly even but for one slightly chipped incisor.

That small flaw made him seem more human, somehow, and she stuttered out, “Oh God. I’m so sorry. I really am. I… I’m Jill Widefield. The new architect.”

His hand came out. She took it. Their fingers met and little thrills shot through her entire body. She shook his hand firmly and released it quickly.

He said, “I’ve heard nothing but good things about you, Jill. You’ll be working with me quite a bit.” He nodded and then stepped toward the door of an office that bore his name on the door. “I’m looking forward to it too.”

He left her standing there, shaken and excited. Her nipples pressed against the fabric of her blouse and she looked down, realizing those erect peaks were clearly visible and cursing inwardly.

She hastened to her office, a small but still amazing space tucked into a corner at the end of the hallway. Max’s office was next door. Her office took up the end of that hallway and there was nothing but blank wall across from the door, so Max’s office was the only one near hers. She took note of that as she headed inside, a delighted smile crossing her face as she took in the large floor-to-ceiling windows behind the desk. She set her bag down and headed to the windows, staring out at the city spread below her.

This was happening!

She went to the desk and sat down. The chair was ergonomic, the blotter crisp and clean, and someone had left a gorgeous and expensive Mark Cross pen set there. It had her name on it!

She drew deep breaths and managed a smile when a woman walked in. She was older, with a face that said she was stern and busy to boot. She said, “I’m Ms. Holt. I will be your assistant. I’m also assistant to Mr. Riley, so my office is down the hall.”

She showed Jill how to call her and then set a thick file on the desk along with a printed schedule. She asked, “Would you like coffee, or a water?”

“No, no thank you, Ms. Holt. I’m fine.”

The schedule was daunting. She had a meeting in less than twenty minutes and a full day beyond that. She saw Maximillian’s name on the schedule and her breath caught in her throat.

Ms. Holt left and Jill quickly gathered the blueprints she had down and the rough drawing for a new project, and did a fast few minutes of meditation to try to clear her head and prepare for the day. But a vision of Max kept floating upward in her mind.

Max.

She was already shortening his name to something that felt far too intimate. She had to remember not to do that.

She gathered her things and took a quick peek at the schedule again and then at the clock. She had to go. She headed down the hall to the conference room marked on the schedule, pausing in the doorway as she saw Maximillian already there, lounging in a chair. He’d taken off the jacket he had been wearing earlier. His shirt clung to his broad shoulders and arms and arrowed nicely down a trim and toned waist and stomach.

He saw her and said, “Good morning. Do you like your office?”

“Yes, very much, thank you.” She managed to keep her tone as crisp as her blouse, which pleased her. She asked, “Which chair should I take?”

He indicated the one directly across from him and she set her things down but remained standing. Others began to fill the room. She recognized Hunter, the partner whose name was synonymous with great ideas and fast yachts;  Dante Sterling, a take-no-prisoners kind of businessman whose luck as a gambler had not failed him in business either; and Brad Draper, a street-racer-turned-financial-advisor with the devil’s own luck in investments and a keen sense of property.

And rounding out the group was Maximillian, a former realtor who had turned flipping foreclosed houses into a successful venture that gave him the stake he needed to join his friends in creating the company. Maximillian was the man who planned out the property takeovers and building projects that Rogue Enterprises had used as a springboard to all the nationwide projects they were now undertaking. Next they would branch out into the global markets—that was, if the projects they undertook now proved to be as profitable as they thought.

Jill would be a part of those projects, if the ones she worked on now were good enough. She’d finally have the success that she had been chasing.

Maximillian spoke first, “I would like to see the roughs, please.”

She nodded and opened the tube she’d placed them in. She spread them and opened her mouth, but before she could say anything Maximillian was up and speaking.

She clamped her mouth shut but she was fuming. The arrogant bastard! His finger was moving over the rough and he was talking fast, and naturally everyone had pretty much forgotten she was even around. There was a lot of discussion, a few arguments (none of which she managed to insert a word into), and then the meeting concluded and everyone left.

Everyone but her and Maximillian.

He gave her a long, cool look and asked, “Is something wrong?”

Holding her temper was not her strong suit. She snapped, “Yes, there is something wrong. You basically just hijacked my design and then changed it.”

“For the better,” he said coolly.

“Maybe so, but all I was given was a general idea, and after it became clear where the weaknesses were you never gave me a chance to speak!”

“Get used to it,” he said callously. “That’s how we get things done. Learn to shout above the din.”

He drew closer. Her body trembled with a mixture of rage and desire. His face was close to hers and her eyes dropped to his mouth, curled into a sardonic smile now. She said, “I’ll do—”

He kissed her.

His mouth came down on hers, fierce and demanding. Fire spiked along her nerve endings as his teeth tugged at her bottom lip, and then his tongue thrust into her mouth. Her response was immediate and primal.

She kissed him back.

Her body sagged against his, and then her hands wound into his thick hair, the crisp waves of it crackling below her fingers as she drank in the flavor of his mouth and tongue.

They broke apart. She was breathing hard and dazed. He looked as cool as ever. He said, “See you at the next meeting,” and sauntered out, leaving her stunned and blinking, propped up by the long rectangle of the table.

“Oh God,” she whispered to the empty room. “I’m going to have to quit.”

***