COWBOY ROMANCE: Justin (Western Contemporary Alpha Male Bride Romance) (The Steele Brothers Book 1) (66 page)

Chapter Six

Days became weeks, one date became two, became five, and Lily was happy. Her father was not. She tried to avoid fighting with him when Corbin was around, but it seemed as though he always knew when she had anyway. She wasn’t sure if it was that or something else bothering him, but as the months wore on, he seemed more and more stressed. He was still gentle, still attentive and warm, but she could see the worry behind his smiles, and some nights she woke to find him sitting slumped in the chair in front of his desk, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. Trying to coax the reason out of him had been unsuccessful. Every time she tried, he turned the conversation around to her, to her father. He was insisting that she get him help.

Lily knew, of course, that Corbin was right, that something had to be done. She struggled against the knowledge until a day in late August, and then she gave her father an ultimatum: either he went to rehab, or he found a new place to live. He’d yelled at her, accused her of not caring about him, but she’d held her ground until rage had turned to tears and he’d agreed to go.

Two days later, she had dropped him off. After a week, he’d called to tell her that he was glad she had made him go, that he was thinking clearly for the first time in a long time. Lily had been so relieved she’d cried.

It was September, and Lily was thinking about broaching the subject of moving in together, when Corbin told her they needed to talk. She settled onto his couch with nerves twisting in her stomach, her hands clasped together in her lap, and waited for him to speak.

“There is something that, if this is to go any further, I have to tell you,” he said quietly, staring down at his hands. “Something very big that you don’t know.”

He was a criminal. He’d been divorced. He had a child. The possibilities flicked through Lily’s thoughts, and she clenched her hands together tighter.

“I’m not sure you’re going to believe it.” Corbin took a deep breath, and dragged his gaze up to meet hers. “I’m not human.”

That was not a possibility she had considered.

“You’re not what?”

He looked as sick as she felt. “I’m an alien.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand. “Not the body-snatching kind.” If he was trying for a joke, it fell flat, and the smile he’d attempted faltered. His voice got very quiet. “The shapeshifting kind, actually.”

“You’re a shapeshifting alien.”

Corbin nodded.

“Prove it,” Lily demanded.

He looked startled, as though that wasn’t quite the reaction he’d expected, but then he nodded again. The change was subtle, at first, a shift she couldn’t quite explain, and then it was rapid, his body folding in on itself until suddenly there was a large black bird sitting in a puddle of fabric where he had been. It tilted its head, and looked at her through one dark eye.

Lily stared at it in startled silence.

“You… That was you,” she said finally.

Corbin squawked something that was maybe bird for yes, and then the change was reversing itself, and he was sitting in front of her as a human again, though his clothes hadn’t made the transition as gracefully as he had. He didn’t seem bothered by his nudity.

“It was me,” he said, in the tone of a confession. “I know that it was an invasion of privacy, though I didn’t at first.” He looked down. “I only wanted to be sure you were okay.”

For a moment, Lily was angry. He had no right. She didn’t need him spying on her to make sure she was okay. Then she remembered the way he had stopped the fight with her father the day he’d been angry enough to scare her. She remembered the little black cat she had seen only once.

“The cat?”

He nodded without looking up.

Lily rubbed her fingers against her abruptly aching temples and let out her breath in a slow sigh.

“So what happens now?”

He finally raised his head to look at her.

“I have to leave.”

“What?” The word was ripped from her. “Why?”

“Because there were rules. And I’ve broken them. I wasn’t supposed to date you. I wasn’t supposed to tell you any of this. And I certainly wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.” A laugh, soft and bitter, escaped him. “Love is not something we’re supposed to even be capable of.” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes still locked on hers. “I was sent as a spy, and I’ve failed utterly in my duty. They know where I am. As long as I’m here, I’m in danger, and so are you. And I won’t allow that.”

I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.

It was the first time either of them had said it.

She should wish him goodbye and good riddance. She should walk out and let him leave and not care. He was an alien. A
shapeshifting alien spy
, for heaven’s sake. She should do a lot of things. It was absolutely crazy to do what she was contemplating.

“So take me with you.”

“What?”

Lily almost laughed at the shocked echo of her own earlier demand.

“Take me with you,” she said again. “We’ll go somewhere far away. We’ll see the world together.”

“I’ve just told you,” he said slowly, “that I am a shapeshifting alien spy, running for my life, and you want me to take you with me?”

“Yes.”

Corbin threw up his hands, an edge of hysteria in his laughter.

“Well why not then? I’ll just… I’ll just take you with me.” His voice softened. “We’ll see the world together.”

And it was crazy. It was absolutely insane. But somehow, Lily was okay with that. She stood, then held out a hand to him, and he took it with a grasp so tight it almost hurt. She helped him to his feet. His arms wrapped tightly around her. She held him in return, his face pressed to her shoulder, buried in her hair.

“I love you too,” she said.

It was insane, but at least it wouldn’t be boring.

THE END

Book 1: Conflict

Book 1: Conflict

Prologue             

There was a knock on the door. It rang through the small room, cutting into Bruce’s thoughts. Part of him was annoyed that someone would deign to disturb him so close to his naming ceremony, and the other couldn’t help but be grateful for this very fact. With a sigh, he stood up and crossed his small room to the door, swinging it open to find none other than his best friend’s ex-mate, Lexus. She stood on the other side of his threshold, clad in her warrior dress: a black armored corset, fishnet tights, and a holster that housed two different daggers, a stun gun, and her intergalactic cell phone. She lifted her gaze from his boots to his face, making sure to linger around his bulge as she did so. A smile stretched across her face as she pressed past him into his bedroom. “Well, I guess this will be one of your last moments as yourself,” she declared in a seductive voice. Everything she said sounded impossibly seductive.

Bruce shrugged, hesitantly shutting the door behind him. “Boris wouldn’t want you in here after what happened.”

Lexus scoffed. “Oh please. We’ve been broken up for, like, almost a year now.” She groaned, sitting on his bed. She leaned back onto her palms, an action that opened her chest to him. “I know that a grace period of a month,
maybe
two, is customary for these things. But it’s been ten. He can’t tell me who I can and can’t have sex with.”

Bruce flexed his jaw, wondering how he was going to resist her this time. They were holed up in complete privacy in his room, much different than the last time she tried to seduce him, during a bathroom break in the middle of a political speech. “Yeah, well, common decency can,” he countered as he crouched down to re-lace his boots.

“Look, I don’t have a lot of time. I’m supposed to be en route to earth in less than thirty minutes.”

“Oh please, you’ll be fine.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Hugo’s men have been working on this for almost ten Earth years now. They’ve hacked databases and created a whole life for me…”

Lexus groaned. “Yes, yes. I know, and it would be flaky as hell for you to skip on your own field job.”

“Look, the emperor is waiting.”

Lexus stepped off of the bed and crossed the room to him, placing her palm on his shoulder. He could feel his body almost melt into her touch.

That was not a good sign.

With a sigh, he stood up and wrapped his fingers around hers, if only to move her hand away from his tough, tanned skin.

But it didn’t work out that way. Instead of giving him the personal space he so wished she would, she squeezed his fingers, pressing her chest into his. The hard cuts where her corset covered her breasts were almost as arousing as the real thing. Suddenly, all he could think about was the sound of her moans and the sensation of himself inside of her as he rammed into her over and over again, her nails digging into his skin and drawing blood, the knowledge that anyone could catch them at any moment only drawing them closer and closer to orgasm. He could already feel his bulge hardening at the mere thought of all of this, and it was a bad look, because she picked up on it almost immediately.

With a dark chuckle, she pressed her lips against the little space on the back of his ear, knowing good and well that he had a weakness there. Her tongue lingered on the skin, driving him into a frenzy of desire.

She laughed yet again. “Look, no has to know… Not that it’s anyone’s business to care.”

He tried to craft some sort of tertiary denial, but all he could think about was her sweet breath caressing his skin. “I don’t—” he started, but she just smiled and drew his face toward hers. She pressed her lips against his, her thick lipstick sliding all around his mouth. He grabbed her arms, holding on as tight as he could, the trembling in her muscles only arousing him more as he pressed his tongue into her small, hot mouth. She wrapped her lips around it and sucked, just as her hands slid down his torso and settled on his bulge.

Then, there was another knock on the door. It was a small sound, but just enough to wrench Bruce out of this potential mistake and remind him that the emperor was waiting for him, along with a pod to send him to Earth. He gulped, sucking in deep breaths to try and slow his pounding heart as he made his way to the door, assuming that it was a messenger coming to summon him for his mission.

But when he swung the door open, none other than Boris stood on the other side of it. His half-smile faded as soon as he looked past him and saw Lexus sitting on his bed, looking far too comfortable.

He looked back at Bruce, a hardened look darkening his almost purple eyes. “You’re out of time.” With that, he stormed off.

Bruce sighed, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach. This was nowhere near the goodbye he had hoped for. He double checked his small pack of fake ID’s and credit cards, stowed away the one weapon he was allowed, and then finally left his room for the last time in who knows how long. As he left Lexus, who sat suggestively on his bed as if she simply awaited his return, he tried not to think about the fact that he would not have his best friend’s support on this mission.

He rushed down the long corridor until he reached what would be the equivalent of a landing deck, on the other side of which stood the entire warrior population of their race… minus Boris. Emperor Hugo stood next to Bruce's pod, his black and red cape oddly matching the metallic hue of his vehicle. He smiled at him as Bruce quickly closed the distance between them. “Are you ready for your mission?” he asked, his voice barely carrying over the sound of cheers and excited conversation.

Bruce nodded.

Hugo pressed a button on the side of a pod and the door swung up, an otherworldly grace to it. He then placed a hand on his forehead. “Safe journey,” he muttered.

Bruce nodded, the voice in the back of his head telling him to at least be happy that he was getting a personal send-off from the most powerful creature in the universe. Once he had stepped inside of the craft and buckled himself in, he looked back to the Emperor for his parting words.

“Remember, if you run into trouble, you know how to get back,” he declared.

Bruce nodded as he shut the door behind him, desperately hoping that that was actually true.

Chapter One

Four Earth Years Later

Anita’s eyes flashed open. It was an uncharacteristically sunny day for November in Washington, D.C., but, for some reason, that did nothing to lift her spirits. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It would have rather lingered there, considering she had only gotten three hours of it the night before. When she was convinced she was strong enough and awake enough to climb out of bed without falling right on her face, she lifted her thick duvet, revealing two slim legs, then swung them over the side of her bed. Once she was standing, it felt as if every last ounce of blood in her body had rushed down to her ankle. Her feet dragged as she crossed her bedroom, entered her kitchen, and started on a cup of coffee.

With the sound of brewing happening in her kitchen and the smell of coffee grounds filling her entire loft, she grabbed the remote and clicked on her television. CNN materialized on the black screen. It was the only channel she watched, aside from the occasional BBC debate. But, being the Secretary of Defense in a liberal administration, there weren’t a lot of options for light entertainment if she wanted to stay ahead.

A woman with a really bad bob cut and a fake smile started talking, and behind her was the unmistakable sound of protesting and riots. Since the latest “race related” shooting, there had been a lot of looting and protests all over the country and even a few in Europe.

“Riots have broken out in Baltimore, St. Lewis, Birmingham, LA, and New York over the Remington incidents last week,” she declared.

Anita poured her coffee and turned to stare at the television, the hot caffeine-infused liquid slowly giving her life.

“Police have been issued tanks and warheads to combat the civilians, but that has only caused more distress in these areas. The National Guard has been stretched thin over this issue, and there have been talks about incorporating other areas of the military to help restore order.”

Anita scoffed as she watched the live feed of poor-looking civilians jutting angry signs into the air, yelling obscene things at people in uniforms and throwing objects like rocks and enflamed wooden sticks. There have been no such talks, although she worried that the person who had leaked this was probably thinking that there should have been. That only meant she had a heated argument waiting for her in the situation room.

Just as she was strategizing the best approach to her day, the shrill sound of her phone ringing cut through the riots and the screaming. She scurried back to the kitchen and picked up her cell phone. “Hey Jori,” she quipped.

“Wow, you sound so awake… considering,” Jori greeted, her southern accent wrapped around slightly surprised words.

Anita shrugged, even though she knew Jori wouldn’t be able to see her. “Uh yeah. Well I have to be. I don’t have a choice, do I?” she replied.

There was a static sound through Anita’s earpiece as Jori released a heavy breath. “Yeah. Uh…. Listen, Hun… The reporters are gonna eat me alive. The president needs to have a press conference as soon as possible because these people are practically hyenas. But he can’t do that—”

“Until he figures out what to say, which means we need to figure out how we’re dealing with this, which means that I need to get down to the situation room,” Anita finished. She had already put down her coffee and was rushing to her bedroom to snag the first suit she could get her hands on. It was a bright red pants suit with a black blouse—war colors, which seemed apt for the undoubtedly combative day ahead of her.

“Exactly,” Jori replied. “Look, I gotta go. Alice wants to see me.”

Anita rolled her eyes at the mere thought of Victoria Alice, who was, no doubt, the most annoying woman who had ever worked in the White House. “Right. Okay. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

And, exactly thirty minutes later, Anita was walking into the situation room in her red suit and black heels, her binder in hand and her third cup of coffee warming her fingers. The small conference room was bustling with activity, and President Holland stood hunched over Victoria, speaking in hushed tones about something that seemed important.

Anita took one look at her big, blonde curls and averted her gaze… not before her fourth cup of coffee.

She sat down and pulled her binder open, just as the President took his seat and Victoria scurried away.

“Look, we've got more than one serious situation on our hands.”

Anita nodded as she scoured her binder for the notes she had hastily jotted down. “Instead of giving the police military equipment, we should tighten up the National Guard,” she quipped, completely confident in her decision.

The entire room turned to face her, the president included.

“No. We need a stronger arm. Shifting forces won’t do a thing, and if we disarm the police, the right-wing backlash could kill us,” John, the General of the Army chimed.

Anita nodded. Of course he was the one who wanted a stronger military arm—that would only make his job that much more relevant. “No. Politics is not the main concern right now. Resolving this issue is,” she replied.

President Holland raised a hand to silence the two of them. “I said, we have a more pressing issue.” With that, he nodded at Victoria, who then turned the television on.

Hiss entire cabinet watched as a UN convoy spontaneously blew up on a shaky feed in the middle of the night. “Apparently, our people aren’t safe in Israel anymore,” he declared in a harsh voice.

Anita shook her head. “It’s Russia, isn’t it?” she asked.

He nodded. “Not just Russia. I’m afraid the situation in the Middle East has reached an uncontainable zenith.”

Anita tried to stop her jaw from dropping, but it was truly difficult. Things hadn’t been this bad on that side of the world since the Second World War.