XAV: An Alien Romance (Pleasure Invaders Book 1) Read online

  Chapter 3

  Gerti

  After she dropped off the moving van, Gerti squeezed herself onto the overcrowded Piccadilly line. It took her more than two hours to get home, and as she trudged up the steps out of the station, the sky opened. Gerti cringed as her suede boots sloshed with each step.

  If only she’d glanced at the paper this morning. She cursed her former husband again. For years, she’d woken up each morning to make him breakfast. Two cups of tea, steeped just the way he preferred, and eggs benedict hot and ready for him. He’d read the paper and watch the news while she fussed with the house and chatted with her friends about their plans.

  That was their routine. For two solid weeks after he’d left, she’d risen on autopilot and made it halfway through the eggs before realizing what she was doing. There had been tears. More than the dirt bag deserved, and now, she avoided the kitchen all together.

  Damn that man. If not for him, she’d have known it was going to rain and wouldn’t have ruined her favorite boots. There was nothing more unpleasant than cold, wet feet, and all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed.

  By the time she reached the corner and could see her row house, the rain had mostly passed, and the air had taken on a crisp, clean scent. Gerti inhaled, letting fresh jasmine tickle her nose. She stopped, closed her eyes, and tried to center herself. Her hand went unconsciously to her bag where the antique box seemed to infuse her with warmth, despite her still being drenched to the bone.

  Think positive, live positive.

  Wasn’t that the horseshit her therapist kept saying? Except as she took the last step toward her door, she tripped over something in the center of the walk and tumbled ass over teakettle into a puddle of mud.

  Her knee stung like fire and her hip ached, and as she wiped the tears from her eyes and swiped the errant hairs from her face, she screamed.

  That infuriating no-good dodgy tosser…

  A pile of her things lay in a ruined, soggy pile on the sidewalk. Charles had taken the car the day he decided to leave, and with it, numerous items she couldn’t replace. Her work binder, the tiny ornament her mother, before she had passed, had bought her to hang from her mirror, and several of her favorite sweaters. Everything was soaked. Hours strewn about in this shite weather, and now, she doubted anything was salvageable.

  It was one thing to drag her name through the mud, but her McQueen jumper? He might as well have stabbed her in the heart all over again.

  Beyond frustrated and ready to explode, Gerti trudged into her row house and tossed everything on the floor. She was knackered, wet, pissed and well…she needed a good cry.

  Charles would pay for this, all of it. But for now, she just wanted to be sad for a little while. Mostly over the sweater, but also over how her life had not gone the way she’d expected. She didn’t mind getting rid of Charles—the man wore socks with his sandals and farted in his sleep. But being alone and single at thirty-six, divorced no less, was overwhelmingly depressing.

  A rush of excitement dulled the anguish as she remembered her antique store find. Making a pit stop in the kitchen for a glass of merlot, Gerti snagged her purse and shuffled all the way back to her bed where she promptly collapsed. After peeling the wet clothes off her body, she snuggled down under her sheets and pulled out the box.

  Enid had even thought to gift wrap it for her. Sweet little thing. She was old enough to be Gerti’s mother, but she had more spirit than an entire city of people.

  Her elation soon turned into sadness when she realized the box had cracked. A large gap split right through the center of the symbols sealing it closed, and the last bit of resistance she had slipped out with a heavy sigh. Abandoning caution, Gerti opened the box to find a long thick bronze object. Waves of warmth flowed through her as she wrapped her hand around its girth and, for a moment, she didn’t feel quite so miserable. Maybe it was the fact that it was hers, or maybe that it was a part of history, but whatever it was, she wasn’t going to complain. She liked the phallic shaped paper weight, and damn it, she’d latch on to anything that made her feel more alive for the moment.

  Cradling it to her chest, Gerti rolled over and gave in to her tears. She’d wash Charles right out of her system, cry him out until there was nothing left, then get on with her life.

  A voice called to her. Hot whispers danced along her skin, and she arched her back, wanting more. There were hands…fingers…lips…caressing and rubbing all her most intimate spots, holding her captive with pleasure. But she couldn’t see him, couldn’t reach out to touch the sculpted abs she knew were there. And fuck, she wanted to feel him.

  Her body was on fire, each nerve ending demanding—no, screaming—for a taste, a tiny glimpse of the pleasure he was offering. A hard cock teased her entrance, nudging the tender flesh, and she clenched for him. Her pussy ached for him, begging him to plunder her like she so rightly deserved. Her clit throbbed, and with each light flick of his thumb, she bucked her hips until he slid his digits deep and stretched her.

  She ground against his hand, begging him to go harder, faster, to plunge into her and fuck her until she could breathe again. She needed him like she needed air, and without the feel of his cum inside her she thought she might suffocate.

  “I need you, now. Don’t make me beg you.”

  A deep timbre answered, and she felt the vibration of his voice all the way to her core. “You shall never have to beg for my touch, delicate one. I am yours.”

  “Then let me come. Please…”

  She reached down and pressed her hand against her throbbing clit, and every single movement had her closer to release, but still she needed more. She couldn’t come without him. Not the way she was meant to.

  A crazed need built inside her, and like embers to a flame, her desperation was spreading like wildfire. She burned for him. Grabbing his wrist, she pumped one of his hands inside her, using the other to squelch the flames, and just as she was about to finally reach completion, he withdrew his hand, leaving her dangling on the precipice of passion, and rubbed his thick, hot crown up and down her dripping sex.

  “I live to serve you, my precious one.” White hot energy shot through her core, crippling her reason, and Gerti screamed as the man filled her, every single inch of his cock lighting her up in the way only he could.

  It stole her breath, the strength of his thrust, and she clawed at the sheets as she gulped for the air needed to scream his name.

  Gerti jerked awake, panting and sweaty, and lay still for a moment, trying to find her bearings. A dream. It was just a dream. It must have been. Charles had never touched her that way. Not to mention he squealed like a dying animal when he came. He’d never lasted long enough for her to orgasm fully, not like that.

  She ached down there, and for a moment she considered reaching down to finish the job her mind had started but took pause at the warmth radiating off her pillow. Eyes still closed, she allowed herself another moment to enjoy the little slice of perfection. All too often she jumped out of bed, and her anxiety would take hold before she even made it through her morning coffee, but not this time. Not today. It was almost as if strong arms encircled her, and she could swear she heard someone breathing. Call it pathetic, but she missed being held. She turned on her side, trying to snuggle against the warmth, but her pillow wouldn’t give. What in the world…?

  Oh, dear God. “Fuck me.”

  A taut stomach with hard, defined abs flexed ever so slightly under her cheek as whoever held her breathed. Gerti stiffened at the half-naked stranger beneath her. She lunged up, tumbling out of bed, and grabbed the first thing she could find. The heavy box that had housed her antique store find was awkward to hold, but it was at least ten inches long, and could do some serious damage when hefted with a sturdy hand. At least she hoped.

  The man was green, still half curled around where her body had been. Gloriously defined, his every muscle was etched to perfection, like something out of a dream. Her dream. But where had he come from?


  Chapter 4

  Xav

  The chill woke him. He had been so warm—for the first time in ages. Not anymore. He opened his eyes, the shock of finding himself in his natural form causing him to draw in a sharp breath.

  Above him, he saw only a white expanse with a bright glow in the center. His fingers touched fabric, and as he shifted, whatever covered the lower half of his body tickled his skin. And then vibrations. Odd, harsh vibrations he could not understand.

  Xav sat up, and after a moment of dizziness, focused on a female standing just out of his reach. Her lips were moving frantically, and she held a small box aloft over her shoulder.

  Her emotions washed over him. Fear, confusion, and more than a hint of lust. He understood now. Her energy had freed him from his vessel. She’d…wanted him. Welcomed his unique ability to draw out her delicate, feminine power.

  Watching her lips, he absorbed her language. Though he could not hear her, not her true voice, he started to understand. “Where did you come from? What the hell are you doing in my bed?”

  He did not know what “the hell” was, but the rest he could answer. If he could remain in his true form long enough.

  “I will not harm you,” he said, the words slow and unwieldy on his tongue as he tried out her language. “Do you understand?”

  “You’re…green!”

  “What is green?” He did not know this word. Carefully, keeping his gaze locked on the female, he slid across the soft expanse of her bed toward her.

  “Your skin. The color. It’s green! What are you?” The female was still terrified, but also curious. Xav got to his feet, and she swung the box at him. “Get back!”

  Xav fell onto the bed as he tried to evade her strike. She lunged forward, swinging again, and he rolled away. “Stop!” His hand connected with her wrist, and the contact sent a burst of energy through him so intense, he let out a roar. The beautiful creature screamed, and he wrapped his arms around her, offering comfort, apology…anything he had, he would give her.

  But she only pushed against his chest, and when he loosened his grip, she fell. “Get away from me! Don’t you understand me?”

  Holding up his hands, he took a step back. “Your language is strange. New to me. I cannot…hear you. I cannot hear anything.”

  “What do you mean you can’t hear? You’re answering me!” The female’s emotions buffeted him, anger and frustration replacing her fear.

  Xav touched one of his ears. “My hearing was damaged. Long ago. I can understand you if I see your lips.”

  “Where did you come from?” Curiosity now tinged her emotions, and though she still held the box protectively against her, she did not move away from him.

  Nodding toward the box, Xav searched for the words to explain. “From there. This is my true form. Before…this…I was trapped in my vessel.”

  “Vessel?”

  “Small.” He held his hands apart, then motioned up and down in a column. “I believe your people call it…metal.”

  “Oh my God. You…were in…the…the…dildo!”

  He did not know this word and angled his head. “Dehl-do?” Pain crackled over his skin, the first sign that he would soon have to return to his vessel. “I cannot remain in this form for long. I am too weak.”

  The female slid the top of the box open, showing him the padding and the indentation in the shape of his vessel. Xav nodded. “Yes. I was there.”

  “Go back there. Now. Oh, shite. I’m hallucinating. Or going daft. I’m talking to a big green…god who came out of a dildo. This isn’t happening.” The female scrambled to her feet, dropping the box on the floor, and ran from him, into another room where she slammed the door to keep him out.

  At full strength, he could break the door down, but with a groan, he sank to his knees. If he tried to remain in this form any longer, the pain would overwhelm him. “You shall never have to beg for my touch,” he called out. “I am yours.”

  As he gave up and let his vessel consume him, he had a vague sense of the door opening, and a brief glimpse of the female’s wide eyes. Eyes he found impossible to look away from until the darkness enveloped him.

  The vibrations of the female’s voice permeated the hard, metallic exterior of his vessel, but trapped as he was, he could not understand her. Only sense her emotions. Confusion. Disbelief. Fear.

  He felt the moment she wrapped her delicate fingers around the thick shaft, and though no sound could escape the confines of his self-made prison, he groaned as he tried to draw strength from the way she stroked him.

  Softness surrounded him, and her sweet energy faded. Then, he was moving, a loping motion that started to lull him toward slumber. Until his vessel fell sharply. Panic invaded his consciousness, along with a deep sadness he was certain came from his female.

  His female. She was not his, but he wanted her to be. When she’d spoken to him in her dreams, the desperate need arcing through her had touched a place inside of him he’d feared long dead—killed by the horrors he’d witnessed on this planet.

  Xav ached to soothe her, to hold her in his arms as he’d done without even realizing it. She’d felt so good. So right. Perfect curves. Strength balanced with softness. He strained to free himself, to return to his true form, but he could not.

  Soon, he understood what had happened. She had discarded him. The air surrounding his vessel grew warmer, then started to cool, and he feared she was never coming back.

  I am sorry, beautiful creature. I wish I had been able to know you.

  Chapter 5

  Gerti

  Her hands chafed after hours of cleaning, but she needed the burn to clear her thoughts. It didn’t matter that the warning label on the bleach said corrosive. She needed to cleanse her home, her very soul, and the gloves reminded her too much of the years she’d spent wiping up other people’s messes.

  Sweat rolled down her spine, tickling the small of her back. No matter how hard she scrubbed her floors, washed the windows, or wiped down the counters, the pain from the green stranger’s eyes lingered in the back of her mind.

  When she’d pushed him away, his sadness had hit her like a physical punch, and when she’d ordered him back into his—what had he called it?—his vessel—he’d been completely despondent.

  She’d made the right choice. Hadn’t she? Then why couldn’t she rid herself of her guilt?

  Because she’d thrown the phallic sculpture out like yesterday’s leftovers. The second he’d disappeared inside, she’d grabbed the thing, tossed it into the box, and deposited it into the trash. Yet, the instant she’d shut the lid on the rubbish bin, an uneasiness had settled in her belly, and she’d been cleaning ever since to try to make it go the bloody hell away.

  Unable to ignore the nagging sensation any longer, Gerti dumped the scrubber in the sink and headed to the rubbish bin. She couldn’t leave him there—not all alone and covered in filth. It wasn’t right. Maybe she could take him back to the store. Tell Ms. Godfrey the thing was defective and had broken before she’d even gotten it into the house.

  At least that way, he’d have the chance to meet another woman who might be delighted to share her bed with a green…well…whatever he was.

  It only took her seconds to retrieve the box and his vessel from the trash, but the ten minutes she stared at the thing after she threw it on her bed…that felt like hours. So many hours that she gave up and poured herself a glass of wine.

  She had to be losing her mind. Right? What else could explain waking up in the arms of a very naked, very green…alien? And then, wanting to have a conversation with him.

  What was he? She was very certain the alien was a he. The long, hard phallus nestled between her arse cheeks had been massive, and so thick and hot, the material of her nightgown had done nothing to protect her from its insistent demands.

  Not that Gerti had much to compare him to. She’d been with the same man her entire life. And the operative word for Charles was definitely…little. She’d alwa
ys assumed he was of average size, and outside of the occasional flash of a naked man on the telly, she hadn’t ever thought of needing more.

  Charles rarely left her satisfied, but wasn’t that part of the deal? Weren’t all marriages plagued with sexual complacency?

  Scrubbing her hands over her cheeks, she cursed. Charles had finally done it. Turned her into the raving lunatic he always claimed she was. God. She needed more wine. A lot more. And perhaps a twenty-four-hour stay at the closest mental hospital.

  Gerti padded back into the kitchen—glass in hand—and dumped it into the sink in favor of bare-handing the bottle. If there ever were a time for indulgence…

  The dildo-shaped “vessel” was exactly where she’d left it, nestled in her sheets, and her cheeks warmed as she remembered her dream. She’d never experienced anything like it. Wild passion? She’d long ago concluded that simply wasn’t in the cards for her. But what if she’d been wrong?

  No. The thought was ludicrous. No sane woman would think that way. The sexy stranger had practically assaulted her, except, her clothes had remained in place. He hadn’t touched her inappropriately.

  Warmth pooled between her thighs. His final words… I am yours. And in her mind, in the dream with the lover who shared his likeness, he was hers. Completely. And she’d been his. She’d felt it in her bones—amongst other places—and when she’d woken with the warmth of his arms around her, she’d felt…loved. Wanted. Desired. And for the briefest of moments before her consciousness had fluttered to the surface…safe.

  Anger stiffened her spine, and Gerti let her gaze rove over the vessel. How dare he. The audacity of this…being…giving her a sliver of the comfort she’d always desired made her want to shake him. She needed to know why he’d do such a thing. And was it possible what he’d said was true?

  She had to know.

  How had she freed him the first time? Holding the thing against her skin? Settling back on her bed, she took several generous gulps from the bottle before wrapping her hand around his vessel.