The Visitor: Alien Hunger Special Edition (4 page)

Chelsey felt her breath catch in her
throat as she watched him. Her eyes slid closed as warmth wafted
through her and heat when he ceased to pluck at them and took one
nipple into his mouth, sucking it. Currents like electricity jolted
through her, arrowing downward to her lower belly. Her womb
contracted and she felt heated moisture flood her channel as he
alternately sucked and teased her nipple with the tip of his
tongue.

A mindless sort of fever enveloped
her. Before many moments passed, she began to feel a restlessness
take hold. It eased its grip on her slightly when he released the
nipple he’d been teasing and then seized her in a tighter grip when
he transferred his attention to the other. The jolt that went
through her that time was harder, seemed to knock the air from her
lungs. She twisted, wrestled for possession of her hands, but when
he released them, she couldn’t think what to do with them beyond
gripping him tightly and trying to keep from floating
away.

He shifted upward again abruptly,
covering her mouth with his as he reached between them and began
tugging at the waistband of her jeans. For a moment, she thought it
would defeat his determination and then she heard the snap pop,
felt the release of the zipper. He shoved his hand into the opening
with an eagerness she didn’t doubt, cupping her mound briefly with
his fingers and then parting her nether lips with one and stroking
her cleft.

A shudder ran through him when he
found the moisture dampening her panties. He withdrew his hand
abruptly, grasping her jeans and virtually tearing them and her
panties from her in a series of hard jerks. He broke the kiss when
the fabric resisted. Going up on his knees, he caught both sides
and dragged her jeans and panties off, throwing them to one side
and diving over her again. She flinched instinctively, but he
caught his weight with his hands, shifted to one shoulder and
lifted one of her legs to make room for himself between
them.

Through a heated, disorienting fog,
she heard him murmuring his need.

“
Gezis
, mabay! You’re so wet for me. I can’t wait.
Jod
! I need to be inside
you.”

She felt the muscles along her channel
clench in response, felt the rise of her own need in the moisture
that wept from the walls of her sex for his possession. He lunged
against her and she felt his cock, still encased in his briefs,
press bruisingly against her nether lips. He lifted away, shoved
his briefs down and caught his cock, dragging it along her cleft
until it met the mouth of her sex. When he lunged again, she felt
her flesh straining to engulf him. He penetrated her by agonizing
degrees, surging a little deeper, allowing the muscles to repel him
as they tried to grip his flesh, and then surging again until her
moisture had so thoroughly coated his cock that his next lunge
succeeded in slipping past the resisting muscles by virtue of being
too slick to resist. She moaned as he buried himself deeply,
arching instinctively to receive. He released a harsh, pent up
breath.

“
Majin
,
mabay
.
Gezis
!”
he panted, shuddering with the effort to regain control, and then
growled, “I can’t hold it. Fuck! I can’t hold it!”

Chelsey felt her heart surge and the
muscles along her channel flutter in response. She squeezed her
eyes tightly as he withdrew and slowly entered her again, sawing
slowly for several moments while he fought for control and then
lost it as he burrowed deeply and held himself perfectly still for
a handful of moments. When he withdrew again, there was barely a
pause before he thrust, and then he set a rhythm that drove her
before him so rapidly toward her peak that it caught her almost
completely unaware. Her entire body tensed like a bow drawn tight
for a handful of thundering heartbeats and then convulsed as waves
of ecstasy pounded through her. She tightened her grip on his
shoulders as the spasms wracked her, uttering mindless sounds of
rapture, completely oblivious to the agonized grunts forced from
him as he found his own release until she began to drift lazily in
the aftermath. Shuddering all over, he ground his pelvis against
hers a final time, jerking as his body expelled the last of his
seed.

Far more drunk from the rapture that
had exploded inside her than she was from the liquor she’d been
nursing for hours, Chelsey floated in a blissful haze, aware of
little else beyond his welcome weight on top of her. Slowly, the
euphoria abandoned her, dissipating by degrees until she became
aware of her flesh cooling, discomfort, the strangeness of her
surroundings … the unfamiliar male form pressing her into the
bed.

He seemed to sense the tension as it
mounted inside her. He tensed, as well, and still he made no
attempt to relieve her of his weight, no move to pull his flaccid
member from her. She was relieved for a handful of moments when he
finally arched his hips and withdrew—until she felt warm fluids
trickle along her cleft.

Her heart spasmed in sudden dread.
She’d had unprotected sex—with an exotic dancer! Her mind instantly
flooded with the potential for disaster and the absolute certainty
that no man that looked like he did, particularly in his line of
work, would have a shortage of bed partners.

“
You didn’t use a
condom
?” she
gasped.

He stiffened, lifted his head slowly
to look at her. His expression tightened at the look on her face.
“I didn’t hear any objections,” he said tightly after staring at
her speculatively for a long moment.

Chelsey swallowed a little sickly,
struggling with the urge to claim innocence by virtue of having had
way too much to drink. She found she couldn’t voice it because she
knew she hadn’t been nearly drunk enough for that to be a
reasonable excuse, but she might as well have. He seemed to read it
in her expression.

“
A little too much to
drink, teacher?” he drawled, rolling off of her
abruptly.

Chelsey stared at him in dismay for a
moment, almost more unnerved that he knew she was a teacher than
she had been about her discovery. “I have to go,” she said
abruptly, rolling away from him and looking around a little
frantically for her clothes.

“
You should hurry,” he
said tightly. “We’ve been gone long enough they’re bound to be
speculating that you’ve been fucking the hired
entertainment.”

Chelsey felt the blood leave her face.
It wasn’t entirely in reaction to his insight, however. There was
something about the accusing note in his voice that made her feel
guilty, as if she should apologize for behaving as if he’d soiled
her. She realized she had … because she abruptly felt soiled when
it hadn’t felt like that at all moments before. In point of fact,
she’d felt … almost worshipped by his touch. “I didn’t mean it like
that. It’s just ….”

He dropped to his back, staring at the
ceiling angrily. “Don’t let me hold you up,” he said tightly. “I’m
done. Nice ride, teacher.”

Chelsey abruptly felt the urge to cry.
Sniffing at the sting of tears, ignoring the stickiness the best
she could, she dove into her clothing and straightened them with
shaking hands.

“
You should do something
with the hair,” he said coldly. “You look like a woman that’s been
well fucked.”

She threw him a hurt look, meeting his
gaze for a split second, and then hurried toward the door,
smoothing her hair with her hands.

“
Chelsey!” he said harshly
as she reached the door.

She glanced at him blindly.

“
I made love to
you.
Jod
damn it,
baby!” he growled just as she darted out the door and slammed it
behind her.

He stared at the door,
struggling with the urge to leap from the bed and chase her down
and finally dismissed it angrily. “Shit!
Hil
o
Gezis
l’ Majin!
Gods damn it to hell! That was a
mating dance ….”

Chapter Three

It wasn’t until Garryk reached his
apartment and slung his bag against the wall furiously that it
dawned on him just how badly he’d fucked up. Scrubbing a hand over
his face, he glanced around the tiny studio apartment he called
home with the eyes of a stranger and saw how it must look to anyone
else—like the slum den it was, the sort of place nobody but a
street person could consider a step up in the world.

It served its purpose, he
thought angrily. It kept him focused on the prize—the future. It
kept him off the streets where he ran the risk of being picked up
by the authorities and questioned. It was as cheap as it looked and
easy on his wallet—which was the only thing that mattered to him
when he was saving every dime for the prize he’d come for, the
future
.
It was a
place to sleep and keep his few belongings and he was rarely in it
for more than that.

He swallowed a little
sickly.

Chelsey
was
the prize, he
realized abruptly.

She didn’t just represent
everything he’d always wanted and knew to be out of his reach.
She
was
what he
wanted, what he’d always wanted with an intensity that bordered
desperation from the time he’d first been assigned here, had first
set eyes on her.

Striding toward the small refrigerator
under the short counter that passed as a kitchen, he bent down to
examine the contents, hesitated, and grabbed a beer. Popping the
cap off, he took a long drought from the bottle and turned,
propping his hip against the counter and staring at nothing in
particular while he let his thoughts wander at will.

She’d changed. That wasn’t
surprising when it had been damned near ten years, he didn’t
suppose,
their
time, but the changes weren’t physical. She looked every bit
as beautiful as he remembered, maybe more so, because as hard as
he’d tried to hang on to her image in his mind, time and distance
had dimmed it.

He shook his head, dismissing that as
the source of his sense of anxiety. He’d spent a lot of time
fantasizing about Chelsey, but he didn’t believe he’d ever deluded
himself into falling for a woman who didn’t actually exist. He’d
spent enough time watching her interact with the people around her
that he knew her.

Had known her.

She was different … more vulnerable …
wounded.

Anger surged through him as he
abruptly recalled what her sister had told him when she’d hired him
and he realized the bastard that had married her had dulled the
light in her eyes, killed the playfulness he remembered and the
openness. He should hunt the son-of-a-bitch down and beat the fatal
shit out of him, he thought furiously.

He considered it with some relish for
a time and finally, reluctantly, dismissed it. It wouldn’t do
Chelsey any good—not now—maybe if he could’ve gotten his hands on
the bastard before—but the damage was done now. Besides, what good
would he be to her sitting in jail?

Or worse.

And it could get much, much worse than
that.

Jail meant background checks and he
wasn’t confident his would hold up to very intense
scrutiny.

Not considering everything that had
changed since the last time he’d been here.

The thought redirected his mind to his
total fuck up, unfortunately. Tipping the bottle up, he tried to
chase the tightness from his chest with a bubble of false
tranquility. His chest was still tight with churning emotions when
he’d swallowed the drought, though, and he doubted the rest of the
six pack in his fridge would do the trick—even if he could afford
it.

Which he couldn’t.

Sobriety was a must in his
situation—when it could mean his life if he wasn’t totally clear
minded at all times.

And then there was the job—the career
that was a big part of his strategy. If he got called in and he was
only mildly lit there went the future he’d planned!

Finishing off his beer, he
dropped the empty bottle in the recycle bin and headed toward his
bunk, stripping off his clothes as he went. He needed a shower, but
he was dead tired and beyond that, he could smell
her
scent on his skin.
Dropping naked on the bunk flat of his back, he draped an arm
across his eyes, sucking in a deep breath to capture her lingering
scent and enjoying the way it stirred his blood.

“
Stupid, mindless fuck,”
he muttered as the images he’d been relishing faded and far less
pleasant memories filled his mind. “No control. None!”

He’d been so certain he understood
these people, that he’d learned their ways well enough that he
could pass—even if he allowed the intimacy necessary to convince
the woman of his desires to accept him as a mate ….

Everything, it seemed, had
conspired against him, leaving him wide open and helpless to grasp
any semblance of control to start with. If he’d been prepared,
known beforehand that he would run into her after so many years, he
might have had some hope of not making a complete fucking ass out
of himself, but he hadn’t been. It had come as a complete and
total, stunning surprise to discover it was Chelsey he’d been hired
to entertain and his mind had turned to pure mush. The hope/fantasy
had instantly gripped his mind that she’d asked for him. He didn’t
think he’d really believed it any of the time. He hadn’t seen so
much as a flicker of recognition in her eyes, but he’d
fucking
wanted
to
believe it. And if that hadn’t been enough to focus his mind
completely on getting his hands on her at long last and doing all
the things he’d wanted to, the realization that she was drinking
and vulnerable because of that had certainly fired his
blood.