The Visitor: Alien Hunger Special Edition (6 page)

Not that she thought he’d ever really
been a kid in the truest sense of the word—innocent. He hadn’t
gotten the chance. He’d grown up in the school of hard knocks and
he’d been light years more experienced in the ways of the world
than she was even back then, regardless of his chronological age or
hers.

She’d deeply regretted, even then,
that he was completely forbidden to her—because of her marriage,
because of her career, and because of his age. There was just
something about him beyond his good looks that had tempted her to
ignore her conscience, throw everything away, and give in to the
promise in his eyes.

It wasn’t worth it, though. It really
wasn’t! She couldn’t let the hunger he’d planted in her to
flourish, to make her start rethinking things—like she’d lost her
son and she was never going to get him back no matter how hard she
tried. There was still hope. She had to believe that. She couldn’t
move on with her life. She didn’t want to give up even if there was
just a slim chance she might yet salvage some kind of relationship
with her son.

Because there sure as hell wasn’t any
future with Garryk!

* * * *

“
Hi. This is Garryk
Sinclair ….”

“
Who?
”

Garryk’s lips tightened. “Diablo?” he
said uncomfortably.

“
Oh!”

“
I’m trying to reach Marla
Parks.”

There was hesitation on the line. “Was
there a mistake in the payment?”

This time Garryk hesitated. “Actually,
there was, but that isn’t what I was calling about. You overpaid me
by a hundred.”

“
Oh! No! That was a
tip.”

Garryk wrestled with his temper for a
moment. “If that was for the private lap dance—it wasn’t
necessary.”

“
Oh? Why is
that?”

“
Look … forget it. The
reason I called is because I lost your sister’s phone number and I
was wondering if I could get it from you.”

There was a long pause and he’d begun
to think she’d hung up. “She gave you her phone number?”

Garryk felt his face heating, but only
part of it was due to his rise in temper. “You’ve got a problem
with that?”

“
Not if she actually gave
it to you.”

Which she didn’t fucking believe for a
minute! He could tell that just by her voice. If he hadn’t wanted
it so badly he would’ve hung up himself. A check of the phone book
had turned up empty, though. Unless she’d changed her name …. “She
gave it to me,” he replied tightly, maintaining his lie with grim
determination.

“
I’ll tell you what. I’ll
check with her and it she’s ok with it, I’ll call you back and give
it to you. What’s your number?”

Garryk ground his teeth. “Forget it!”
he snapped and hung up. He slammed his fist into the wall next to
the payphone in frustration. Disconcerted when the wood panel
cracked, he glanced around to see if anybody had observed him and
strode away from the phone.

“
You’re up next, Diablo!
You need to hump it!”

Lifting a hand in acknowledgement,
Garryk kept going until he reached the dressing room. It took
longer to oil up and apply the grease paint they used to keep their
faces from looking like a blank white mask in the harsh glare of
the spotlights than it did to change into his costume. Carrying the
mask since the son-of-a-bitch was hot and made him sweat profusely,
he took his place just off stage to wait for the performer before
him to finish.

He was still royally pissed off,
though, and he didn’t make any attempt to peer through the curtains
to check the crowd to see if they had a good showing for the night
like he usually did. He’d been kicking himself ever since the
disaster with Chelsey—It was hard to look at it any other way
despite the fact that he’d gotten exactly what he wanted when it
seemed like it had ended up costing him way more than he’d wanted
or expected.

He’d tried to convince himself it
wasn’t a total disaster. He’d just give her a few days to stew over
it and patch things up, but it didn’t look like that was going to
fucking happen when he didn’t know where she lived and he couldn’t
get his hands on her phone number.

He was so deep in thought that he
almost missed his cue. Pushing his thoughts to the back of his
mind, he snapped the mask in place and double timed it onto the
stage to catch his next cue. The glaring spotlights made it
impossible to catch more than a glimpse of the audience from time
to time, but he’d ceased to either worry about the crowd or play to
them long ago.

Just as he was finishing up his grand
finale, however, he caught a glimpse of a woman near the back of
the club that damned near made him trip over his own feet. He
caught himself with an effort and, he thought, carried it off well
enough, but he was rattled enough he hesitated longer to clear the
stage than he should have. The dancer poised to go on behind him
glared at him when he’d finally collected his clothes and
exited.

“
You made me miss my cue,
damn it!”

“
Sorry, man,” Garryk
muttered, striding to his locker to shove his clothes in without a
backward glance.

It was a hell of a lot harder to see
over the tables filled with screaming women from the ground level
than it had been from the stage, Garryk discovered. Trying to
decide whether he really had seen Chelsey or if it was pure
imagination, he hesitated, craning to see if he could spot her
again.

He was just on the point of giving up
when he saw her. She wasn’t sitting at the table where he’d spotted
her before. She was heading for the door. Almost as if she felt his
gaze, she turned and looked straight at him. Her eyes widened.
Whirling, she took off, battering her way through the
crowd.

Fuck! And he wasn’t wearing anything
but his fucking thong!

Whirling around abruptly himself, he
charged backstage to his locker, grabbed his jeans and pulled them
on and then took off toward the exit barefoot and shirtless.
Whipping his head around in search of her, he finally spied her
rushing directly toward him.

Smiling grimly to himself,
he stepped back into the shadows. He’d thought she’d hidden in the
back of the club to avoid him, but if she’d
parked
in the back it was most
likely because she’d only just arrived.

Of course, that didn’t explain why
she’d took off when she saw him, but he was about to find
out.

Chapter Four

Chelsey didn’t know
what
she’d been
thinking! She supposed she wasn’t thinking at all!

Because what she’d been thinking with
didn’t have a brain!

From the moment she’d thought about
going to the club to see Garryk perform, though, she hadn’t been
able to let go of the idea.

She’d told herself
she
needed
to go
to get him out of her head! She needed to see him for what he
really was—a womanizer of the worst kind. She needed to see it with
her own eyes so she couldn’t lie to herself.

Because that was what she’d been
doing. She’d gone over and over their night together, remembered
everything he’d said, every touch, and she’d almost managed to
convince herself that she’d been wrong about him. He hadn’t seduced
her just to add her scalp lock to his bedpost. He’d remembered her
and he’d still been attracted to her.

He’d said those hurtful things because
she’d hurt him. It had always been his way, to strike out with the
most cutting remarks he could think of whenever anyone wounded him.
It was his defense mechanism against a cruel world.

She’d wanted to believe that because
it kept her from feeling so crushed, but could she allow herself to
believe it?

She’d always refused to see him for
what he really was, she finally realized. Even when everyone around
her had been convinced he was trouble with a capital T and destined
for a life of crime she’d insisted that he was too smart and had
too much goodness in him to end up living the life of a common
criminal. He had potential. He just needed someone to believe in
him, someone to appeal to the good in him.

She’d tried. She was just a school
teacher. She hadn’t been trained in dealing with problem kids.
Needless to say the attempt to reach him had been an abysmal
failure, because she hadn’t known how to break through the stone
wall he’d built between him and the rest of the world.

Or she’d been wrong about him all
along. She’d never accepted that. It was easier to accept her
failings in counseling than to accept the possibility that so
charming a young man, with so much potential could’ve just plain
been bad.

She was still making excuses for him,
but she’d finally admitted that it wasn’t just for him. It was for
herself.

Well! It certainly hadn’t been a total
loss! It had been an eye opening experience, alright! She’d
listened to women of all ages screaming ‘Diablo’ until she was
nearly deaf and watched the way he played to the crowd.

She was just surprised the man still
had a dick and hadn’t worn it down to a nub!

It totally sucked that she hadn’t been
able to get in, see what she’d gone to see, and get out without
being spotted! She’d been convinced she could and it was really
unsettling that he’d spotted her, but irrelevant, she was
sure.

She nearly had heart failure when she
rounded the corner of the club and a man stepped out of the
shadows. She’d already sucked in a breath to scream when she
recognized him.

“
Did you see what you came
to see?” he asked grimly.

Chelsey stared at Garryk, trying to
wrap her mind around the fact that he’d caught up to her when she’d
been sure there was no way in hell he could even if he’d wanted to.
The urge to pretend she not only didn’t have a clue of what he was
talking about, but she’d had no idea he would be in the club, was
so strong she didn’t even examine it for flaws. “Uh … you work
here?”

He grabbed her arm, glanced around the
parking lot, and then dragged her through a door she hadn’t even
seen. She saw a narrow hallway and then he dragged her through
another door and into what was clearly a storage room. Without
pausing, he led her down a narrow aisle to the back side of the
room before he released her. “You want to tell me why you came if
you were only going to dash out the door the minute I saw
you?”

Resentment flickered through her. “You
saw me?”

His expression hardened. “You bet your
ass I did,” he growled, shifting closer, “or we wouldn’t be having
this conversation, would we? What’s going on, Chelsey?”

She blinked at him, swallowing
convulsively a few times. “I’m not one of your … groupies, if
that’s what you’re thinking!” she said tightly. “I didn’t even know
you worked here! I just came with some friends to watch the
show.”

“
Male or
female?”

She gaped at him. “What?”

“
Your imaginary
friends.”

She felt her face heat. “Female!” she
said tightly.

“
Names?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why
don’t you tell me why you think I’m here?”

He tilted his head, studying her. She
stepped back when he crowded her again and discovered she’d run out
of retreating room and hit the wall. He planted a hand on either
side of her. “Let me guess—you figured you ought to do a little
research to see just how much trouble you might be in for letting
me stick my dick in you without protection. And now you’ve seen me
at work you figure they don’t make enough antiseptic to
decontaminate you. Am I warm or cold?”

Chelsey gaped at him, feeling the
blood drain from her face and then rush back with a vengeance. “I
wasn’t … thinking about that.”

He lifted his dark brows. “No? Just
checking out the trash your sister brought in, then?”

She stared at him, realizing abruptly
that he wasn’t just angry. He was defensive, and he was never
defensive unless he felt threatened in some way. “That’s not fair!
I never thought that about you, Garryk. Never.”

Surprise flickered through his eyes.
“So … you finally remembered who I am. Tell me, did you remember
that before or after I fucked you? Or did it just sort of click in
place later?”

Chelsey flinched. “I guess … I guess
that answers that question. Does it matter?”

“
It does to me,” he
growled.

“
Why?” Chelsey asked
bitterly, looking away.

He cupped her cheek, forcing her to
look at him again. “Why do you think, baby?” he asked harshly,
dipping down to cover her mouth in a kiss that was rough with the
anger still pumping through him.

Chelsey stiffened, struggling with the
twin desires to yield instantly to temptation and to sooth whatever
distress she’d caused him. At the same time, she realized she
couldn’t afford to yield to either urge. She was too vulnerable to
him, too susceptible to his charms, but no amount of trying to
reason with her libido served her. Despite the roughness, maybe
because something inside of her recognized the hurt that prompted
it even while she didn’t completely understand it, everything
inside of her seemed to melt at the possessive stroke of his tongue
along hers.