Ineffable (31 page)

Christina jumped, and Charlie watched her body jiggle and settle. Silently she thanked God for her mocha skin tone. Without it she’d have looked like an over ripe cherry about the face and neck.

“Yes, sir,” some imp inside her responded, and she dropped him a rather elegant, naked curtsy.

His nostrils flared, and the corner of his mouth lifted as he stalked closer.

Christina held the sponge in front of herself defensively, actually backing away a step before she realized what she was doing and stopped. He was so close she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye, but she held his gaze, teeth nibbling nervously at her full upper lip.

“When you’re done here, come into the office and straighten up my files,” he said, eyeing her captive lip thoughtfully before he turned to go.

Christina thought seriously about pitching the sponge at the back of his head, but instead she softly called his name.

“Yes?” he asked as quietly, staring her in the eye after a quick up and down perusal.

“At the end of the week I expect to be paid in cash.”

He grinned. “Of course.”

Now
he’ll come back and laugh in my face, telling me what a fool I am.

She stood there, waiting, her smile slowly fading when she didn’t hear the hardwood floor creak beneath his loafers. Nothing happened at all, and Christina huffed irritably. How long was he going to keep this up? Could he possibly be serious? He couldn’t. Could he?

Stumped, and without a reasonable alternative, she continued her work. She swept the kitchen floor, wiped down the range hood and tightened the lid on the apricot jam he’d left out before she put it back in the fridge.

There was no sign of a mop. The inside of the oven didn’t look as though he’d actually used it, and the mostly empty refrigerator was tidy inside and out. He’d told her to do his files next, but she hesitated to go in while he was on the phone. She’d tackle the bathroom. That’s what maids did most.

“May as well earn my fee,” she muttered.

Yes, the bathroom was close enough. Cleaning it brought her within eye and ear shot of his office. No longer completely convinced this was a joke, Christina didn’t want to give Charlie any reason to do anything more to her than what he’d already done.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew she was talking herself out of following his instructions, but she rationalized that he’d never liked being interrupted while he worked. The specialized finance work he did was private, for high security, high stakes business clients. No, the bathroom was the next best chore to tackle…

The Hick and the Hippie

The cabbie seemed to have picked up some of Xander’s urgency as he rolled high speed toward downtown. He leaned over the steering wheel, changed lanes without signaling and muttered as though every close call with his fellow automobiles was a personal affront to his rather ragged bit of yellow and white metal. Perhaps too quickly, they stopped.

“This you?” she asked, looking up at the elegant brownstone off Oak Street.

“Yeah, the top. I rent out the bottom.” Xander gave the driver enough bills to have the man spring up from his seat to unload their luggage from the trunk, leaving him to haul her up the front walk.

She stole one glimpse of his quiet, tree-lined street, luxury cars gleaming against well swept curbs. Then she was in a dimly lit hall, and he’d tossed his bag and her suitcase and purse aside.

She let her breath go in a rush as he stripped off her trench, and good God. Just that little bit of handling had her clit throbbing. She felt weak. She held up a hand, wanting him to slow down, needing to get her bearings.             

“Xander.”

“Yes,” he said softly. “You feel it too. Come with me.”

Lee looked around as he led her through his home. It was neat with dark, masculine furniture and piles of books everywhere. He’d always been a piler, only then it was football equipment or arrangements of empty beer bottles. Now framed movie posters bumped shamelessly against a few really good paintings, and photographs were grouped in random but charming clusters.

His bedroom was large and airy with lots of windows, cream colored walls and a rug that felt soft beneath her shoes.

“You’re curvier now,” he whispered, pulling her onto his lap. His hands stroked her outline appreciatively. “More womanly.”

She shook her head, put her hand flat against his chest, trying to break the spell she was falling into. She tried to focus on something else, anything, and her eyes landed on a beautiful old wood secretaire she recognized. It had been his mother’s. She bit her lip as he yanked her belt free.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress,” he said, pushing the halves of her wrap dress apart.

“You’re a bully,” she said, when he was a tad too rough pulling her close.

“That didn’t hurt,” he scoffed, mouth already searching out one lush nipple.

It hadn’t, but she had to release tension somehow. She shivered as his hand found her other breast.

“Perfect,” he whispered, nuzzling her. “I’ve missed you, Lee Lee.”

He acted like they’d just seen each other last week, but she couldn’t complain. His lips, that nickname, they were ripe with a nostalgia so potent she felt her spine unkink as his hands warmed her skin.

“No panties.” He cupped a hand full of her round bottom. “You’re a bad girl.”

She pouted, turning her head away and gasped as he nipped her ear in punishment. Then he slid in two fingers. They went in easily, her body already preparing itself for his, and he moved them immediately to stroke her clit.

“No,” she said firmly and was ignored. “No,” she said again, quieter. “Xander.” His name was two syllables, the last broken high on the end. When he began to massage her clit more forcefully, she tried to close her thighs against him. When that didn’t work she sank her teeth into his upper arm and groaned when he shivered. “Stop,” she panted, leaning back to slap his face.

He looked up, surprised, but even then his impudent fingers kept rubbing her clit until she pulled his hand away.

They stared at each other, green eyes stroking brown as their hearts took a break from furiously pounding the blood to their limbs. Lee stroked the side of his face, accepting his kiss on her palm as she soothed the area she hadn’t really hurt. Her eyes closed as she savored his heat, his touch, the smell of his skin.

A million “why didn’t you call me’s?!?” bubbled behind her lips, but her body cared nothing for explanations. Later, her brain whispered. Now, her body called, but she tried to move away, to think clearly. He clutched her to him instantly, murmuring so anxiously she gave up and relaxed.

It was strange discovering the passion they’d shared as kids had survived. It was also terribly sexy, easy, despite the uncertainty that lingered, and she wanted more.

It wasn’t like they’d parted acrimoniously. There’d been no big scene, no harsh words or accusations. There was just a kiss and a plane and then, nothing. No calls, no letters, no emails. Nothing. Until now…

How to Love a Blue Demon

“What’s she doing now?”

The prince looked absurdly childish lying on a fur on his belly, his strong chin propped on two large hands. His robes hid a tall, impressive body, but emphasized the wide cast of his broad shoulders. The veneer of childishness was enhanced by the way he stared into his Owe crystal for hours, completely absorbed by otherworldly happenings involving his favorite Earth celebrity, Cassidy Dodge.

“Being interviewed by the box people.”

“More TV, sir?”

“Yes, the box people really love her.”

“TV,” his servant corrected gently.

Eyoen nodded, absently opening his mouth to receive one of the pink
strita
berries a female servant waited patiently to place on his tongue as another woman brushed a thick lock of shiny black hair out of his eye. She’d done the same thing every few minutes for hours and showed no sign of impatience for her repetitive task. Why should she? It was an honor to serve the prince in any capacity he might require.

“I have news, sir.”

“Can it not wait, Rierdane?”

“Of course, sire, but it concerns your request to visit Earth.”

Eyoen turned so quickly, the servant tumbled to the carpet, berries flying in every direction.

To her credit, the female said not a word, merely picked herself up, bowed and helped the other female scoop up the mess before they scuttled out under Rierdane’s laser glare of disapproval.

Eyoen was on his feet, one hand waving at the TV broadcast he was watching to halt it mid word.

“Well?” He put both hands on the shorter man’s shoulders. “What does he say?”

“After much debate, the King has agreed that you may go and view this female you’ve found more closely. Under two conditions.”

Eyoen blinked impatiently, gold eyes flashing as his scowl warned his faithful retainer not to string him along farther.

“You must bring back three lessons to share with the Council.”

Eyoen smiled so big, Rierdane thought emotion might split the prince’s face in two.

“And, you must find a host.”

The grin fell from his face as though pushed.

Gods take him straight to the frigid underworld! He should have known his father would find a clever way to throw a spanner into the works. To find a host meant he had to take over a human’s body. He’d be bound by most of the physics of the land, which meant he’d be vulnerable. His natural defenses would be stifled, his strength constrained by his human body. Even the thought of it made him nervous.

Earth was such a primitive place. In the city of Chicago – the equivalent of a small village on the star – where he wanted to go, there was no royal family. Everyone was considered – he shook his head at the oddity – equal. He’d be completely alone, in a strange, weaker body.

“We’re wanted in the throne room,” Rierdane said now, and Eyoen rose obediently and donned a suitable robe to meet his father.

“I know you think this is your lucky day,” his father said, watching the thoughts flow across his youngest cubs’ face. “But I’m sending you there as a punishment. You’ll have to take care of yourself, by yourself, apart from Rierdane.”

The valet shimmered into the room at the sound of his name.

“And him you will have in an advisory capacity only,” his sire said darkly. “You will learn how to get along and do things on your own. Chicago has something called values,” the King paused.

“Midwestern,” Rierdane whispered.

“Midwestern values. They’re similar to our laws, unspoken, but fairly binding. You shouldn’t have trouble fitting in. We’ll find you a white host as they are often tall and share our facial features. Humans are not a tall people, traditionally, nor are they of our skin.”

White! White was the color of poverty on Cyanus. And even then it wasn’t really white, merely a pale, almost translucent blue. He did recall seeing a lot of white people in his crystal.

“In Chicago, most of the people in power are white, though they have many shades there to choose from.” His sire sighed. “I hope you’re back in time for the solstice, my son.”

Eyoen sucked in a shocked breath. The solstice celebration was more than six months away in human time. Would he need that long to woo Cass and convince her to leave Earth and come back to his star? Surely not.

His father lectured him for a few more minutes, the importance of making a good show, to behave with propriety and – here Eyoen swallowed nervously – of the criticality that he not hurt anyone. He agreed with all demands. 

Back in his apartment, Eyoen eyed his valet. Rierdane was talking his new role as advisor very seriously. Eyoen felt like he was back in the schoolroom. The servant hadn’t stopped talking since they left the throne room.

“You’ll have $5,000 per week spending money.”

“How much is that in Cyani coin?” Eyoen asked.

“About 50 credits.”

Eyoen shuddered; it was a pitiful amount. It appeared his father did indeed want to punish him, sending him to another land a pauper!

“Never fear, my boy. You can actually live quite well on $5,000 a week in Chicago,” Rierdane assured him. “We’ll find you a host with several credit cards.”

“What?”

“Credit cards. Small rectangles of plastic that act as cash.”

“What is cash?”

“Credits.”

“Ah.” Eyoen summoned another of his three servants to get him something to drink as he turned on the OWE crystal and looked at his favorite program – Cass’ life…

The Best Bite

This was not going to go well for him. First, no one was going to believe that he hadn’t done this – because he had – and second, no one was going to believe he hadn’t done it deliberately, even though he hadn’t.

When his magic had first come in six months ago, Bastien hadn’t believed it either. When he’d casually snapped his fingers and a flame appeared, he’d instantly dropped his hand and played it off as though nothing had happened. It was a miracle no one had seen him. He’d sat in shock nearly an entire class before he could escape to the restroom and gather his wits in the privacy of a stall.