Sixx: Dakonian Alien Mail Order Brides #4 (Intergalactic Dating Agency)

by Cara Bristol

  I folded myself into the passenger seat. The future loomed closer than she knew. Jessie, a coordinator with the Intergalactic Dating Agency, had messaged me with the news a ship would leave in a month to collect the next group of men. That would be the last spacecraft headed to Dakon until further notice. If I intended to return, I had to be on the ship.

  Until now, men had been accepted into the IDA on a “first come, first served” basis. More Dakonians than any other alien species had taken advantage of the program, and now other aliens objected to the perceived overabundance of Dakonians. To appease them, a moratorium had been placed on Dakonian matches to allow the numbers to even out. How long would that take? Years? I had to return to Joho. I couldn’t abandon my son. I had to get back to Dakon.

  Chapter Seven

  Moxie

  The scent of tangy meat and twangy she-done-me-wrong songs wafted on the air at Barbie Q’s. The place was packed to capacity with wait-listed diners standing outside, but Barb and I went way back, so the hostess whisked us across the sawdust-covered floor to a cozy corner booth. She placed a couple of barbecue-sauce-splattered menus on the table. “Your server will be with you soon.” Her cowboy boots clopped as she scooted away.

  Sixx stared at the writing, looking unsure, and I suspected he couldn’t read. “Would you like me to suggest something?”

  “That might be best,” he said. “But it all smells wonderful.”

  “Basically, you pick a meat—beef, pork, pork ribs, chicken, or turkey. With it you get beans, corn on the cob, coleslaw, and French fries.” I pointed to the squeeze bottles on the table. “You add sauce to the meat. Sweet, medium spicy, and extra hot.”

  “Moxie, as I live and breathe. Haven’t seen you in a coon’s age.” Affecting a drawl, Barb two-stepped to our table. Born and raised in New Los Angeles, Barb was a Valley girl through and through, but she had a flair for drama. From her dress and manner, you’d never guess she owned the place. She wore the same boots as the wait staff, along with a denim miniskirt and a tight white tank top, the better for showing off her store-bought boobs. She’d been flat as a board until she bought new tits after her restaurant became a success. “Everything’s bigger in Texas,” she’d joked.

  To his great credit, Sixx didn’t stare or seem interested in her giant gazungas even though they were eye level. The same couldn’t be said for the other men in the place. With Barb’s arrival, our little corner took center stage.

  I jumped up and hugged her. “It’s great to see you.”

  “What happened to your hand?” She eyed my bandaged paw.

  I lifted a shoulder. “A run-in with a mugger.”

  “He knocked her down and stomped on her hand. Tried to steal her bag and phone,” Sixx said.

  “Oh my god! Are you okay?”

  “A little bruised, and I can’t do a darn thing with this hand until it heals, but I’m lucky. Sixx went after the mugger and got stabbed. A couple of Good Samaritans called the cops.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Stabbed? That’s terrible!”

  “A few scratches.” He waved his hand.

  “Scary!” Barb hugged me again. “I’m glad you came in! I saw you and ran to say hi.”

  Barb had started with a food truck then opened the restaurant, often waiting tables herself. She didn’t have to do that anymore, but her upstairs office, fronted by one-way windows, overlooked the floor so she could keep an eye on the operation. “I never see you anymore. I was beginning to think you might have fallen off the face of the Earth.” She eyed Sixx’s horns.

  “This is Sixx. He’s from Dakon.” I looked at him. “This is my friend Barb. We went to school together. She owns the place.” I slipped into the booth.

  “Pleased to meet ya!” She smiled, but I could see the gears cranking. Barb would demand full deets.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

  Barb poked me. “You dog, you! You never said a word. And here I was afraid your ex, that weasel Miles, had written an anti-socializing clause into his employment contract. How long has this been going on?”

  “Not long. We just met.” I signaled with a hard stare she should drop the line of questioning. I enjoyed dishing the dirt on guys as much as the next girl, but not in front of said guy, and not when I wasn’t sure of my feelings. His kisses had curled my toes and revved up my libido. I ached to jump his bones. And I liked him—more than I should. Did I dare proceed to getting involved with a man, knowing it would end, that it had to end?

  Most relationships did end, but this time I would be going into one with the certainty of foreknowledge. I had a horrible feeling my heart could get broken.

  “Since Thursday,” he volunteered.

  “Oh?” Barb shifted her weight to one hip like she was settling in. “How did you meet, inquiring minds want to know?”

  “Through the Intergalactic Dating Agency,” he said.

  “No shit?” She hooted.

  Sixx looked confused, and I figured “shit” probably wasn’t a word his implant translated.

  “I’ve heard a lot of good things about the program, but I haven’t met anybody who has done it. It’s time somebody gave these Earth men a run for their money.” Barb flipped her bleached hair over her shoulder. Between the boobs and the hair, men often assumed she was the stereotypical dumb blonde—until they got their balls handed to them with a side of coleslaw. “Like I’d said, I’ve seen so little of you, I started to worry you might have gotten involved with the weasel again.”

  “Never gonna happen. He’s over it. I’m long over it. It’s business.”

  Bad business considering the contract I’d signed but still business.

  “Glad to hear it. Listen, I’d better get back to work, but don’t be a stranger, okay? Let’s get together?”

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  “Wonderful. Dinner’s on the house, by the way.”

  “You don’t need to—”

  “I insist.” She signaled a waitress. “Becky—their dinner is on me.” She looked at Sixx. “If you’re undecided what to order, I suggest the house special, the all-you-can-eat meat platter.”

  “Barb, really, you don’t need to do that.” I’d seen Sixx put away movie snacks. All you could eat? He’d put a hurtin’ on profits.

  “No arguments.”

  “I thought the customer was always right?”

  “You’re not a customer. You’re a friend.”

  I got up and hugged her again. I needed to better prioritize my life. Barb wasn’t the only friend I’d risked letting drift away. How long had it been since I’d gotten together with girlfriends? I couldn’t remember. It had gotten to the point where they’d stopped calling, didn’t bother to invite me to things.

  After Barb left, Becky brought us a couple of beers—also on the house—and Sixx and I got to focus on each other.

  “I like your friend. She’s lively,” he said.

  “She is that.” I smiled and unrolled my silverware from a red-checkered napkin.

  “Miles is the one who keeps you chained to your desk?”

  “What? Oh yeah.” I remembered joking to that effect at the Stellar Dust Bin. “He’s the one.” I took a sip of my beer.

  “He’s your ex. You were mates.”

  Of course, he would pick up on it. Darn that Barb. My past relationship and current association with Miles weren’t secrets, just awkward. “He was a boyfriend. We dated in high school.” My senior year and the summer before college. Then we’d gone our separate ways to attend different universities. “But I wouldn’t call him a mate.”

  “Now he’s your tribal chief?”

  “Miles would like to think so.” I chuckled at the terminology. Since Dakonians didn’t have jobs, they probably didn’t have words in their language for boss, supervisor, or manager. Or asshole. “He owns the company I work for.”

  “Barb doesn’t like Miles.”

  “No, she doesn’t.” She never did even in high school. She’d bee
n shocked when I’d accepted a job with his company.

  There hadn’t been any acrimony between me and Miles, no big blow up, no tears, no hard feelings; we’d merely drifted apart and gone our separate ways. So when I ran across the ad for a coder at EGG and discovered it was his company, taking the job didn’t seem like a bad idea. It was called networking. You connected with people you knew.

  But Miles wasn’t the same guy I used to date. He’d turned into a hard-ass. If I’d ever entertained a notion he might go easy on me because of our past relationship, well, it didn’t last a nanosecond once I got in the door. He cut me no slack. He was harder on me than anyone else.

  “Why doesn’t she like him?”

  I shrugged. “She thinks he’s a jerk.”

  “Sometimes our friends can see what we cannot,” he said.

  “Perhaps.” Miles had been a decent guy when we were going together. “Sometimes people change,” I said.

  “I don’t think they do,” he said. “People have honor or they don’t. Circumstances change and reveal who they really are.”

  “You sound like you don’t like Miles, but you’ve never met him.”

  His nostrils flared, and he glanced away before focusing on me again. “I trust your friend’s opinion. I sense she is an open and honest person who cares about you.”

  Barb was a straight shooter; she called it as she saw it. While she didn’t take herself too seriously, she had no time for fools or assholes. However, she wasn’t always right.

  “If she is concerned about this Miles person, then I am concerned.” There was an odd note in his voice.

  Was he jealous? Normally I couldn’t stand possessiveness, but warmth kindled inside. “You don’t need to worry about Miles. He’s ancient history.”

  “He’s in your present—you work for him.”

  “He’s my boss. I’m not interested in him in a romantic way,” I tried to reassure him. Once I had liked Miles, but now? Ugh. Banish the thought. Why would I pick a weasel over a hot, hunky alien? Sixx was forthright, courageous, hot as all get-out, and a heck of a kisser. Although his directness put me on the spot, I appreciated his honesty. He’d told me up front he intended to return to Dakon.

  Forewarned is forearmed, as they said. Now I knew what I needed to do—convince him to stay.

  In a flash, I made a decision. I would let nature takes its course and pursue our mutual attraction. Sixx drew me like no one ever had. I loved his exotic, alien scent. While not classically handsome, he was over-the-top hot—tall, muscular, horned. I didn’t need a man. I could take care of myself. Showy acts of machismo didn’t impress me, yet the way he’d taken after my mugger did. He’d risked his life for me.

  I admired his courage in taking a leap of faith by coming all the way to Earth to meet a woman. I’d joined the IDA, but I got to remain on my comfortable, familiar world, which brought matters around to the negative that could spoil everything.

  What if I couldn’t convince him to stay? What if he went back to Dakon? I could end up heartbroken.

  Don’t let fear make your decisions read a plaque over my computer station at home. I hadn’t played it safe with my career—why should I play it safe with love? I’d joined the Intergalactic Dating Agency, for goodness’ sake! Wasn’t that a risk?

  As Barb had pointed out, my job consumed my life, and that was no way to live. I hoped to marry and have children someday. The biological clock had started ticking, and kids weren’t going to spontaneously generate. If I spent every second barricaded in the game lab, I’d never have a family.

  Sixx assumed he’d go back to Dakon with a woman—but he’d formed his intention before meeting me. He already liked me and was attracted to me. He was jealous of Miles. If we fell in love, wouldn’t he desire to stay?

  “Hot stuff coming up!” Carrying a large tray on her shoulder, Becky landed in front of our table and proceeded to set out the food: a platter piled high with beef, pork, chicken, and ribs, four bowls with the sides, and a basket of Texas toast. She placed plates in front of us. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Uh…I don’t think so. Thank you.”

  “I’ll come by and check on you. If you need more sooner, wave me down.” She pointed to the small Texas flag on the table I’d assumed was there for decoration.

  I couldn’t imagine eating more. Becky collected her tray and headed back to the kitchen. I lifted my gaze from the mountain of barbecue to find Sixx focused on me. Passion and hope, an irresistible combination, glinted in his eyes. He was bold but not brash. He liked me. And I liked him. My pulse raced, and my stomach fluttered. Food was the last thing on my mind.

  “I would like to have relations with you,” he said.

  It was one thing to think it, to feel it, but I wasn’t used to someone stating it. Heat shot straight to my erogenous zones, causing my pussy to dampen, my nipples to tighten, my face and neck to flush. I fanned my face. “Oh, uh…”

  “You’re surprised.”

  “No…I’m not used to men being quite as, um, expressive about their, uh, feelings.”

  “If I know how I feel, why not express it?”

  Why indeed? Was it hot in here, or what? “Was that just a general statement, or do you have a timeline?”

  “I would like to have relations with you tonight.” His horns pulsed, and the heat in his eyes melted me into a puddle of goo.

  “We only met a couple of days ago.”

  “I’m certain how I feel. Does your hesitation mean you don’t feel the same?”

  “No, that’s not it. I do, it’s…” Crazy. Who decided this fast and then just did it? Okay, back before my libido had gone into hibernation, I’d had a one-night stand or two—or three—to scratch the itch, but this wouldn’t be that. It would be the start of something. Sixx wasn’t playing around. But wasn’t that what I’d decided I wanted? Something meaningful? “Let’s do it!” I said.

  Chapter Eight

  Sixx

  The barbecue was excellent, and I had seconds, enjoying the various meats, my mate’s company, and the anticipation of the night ahead. She ate little, picking at her food, and at first I worried I’d pushed her too far, but her smiles reassured me. She would look at me then avert her gaze. Cross and uncross her legs. Wet her lips. I couldn’t wait to mouth-mesh with her again.

  I hadn’t intended to move so quickly, but the comments about her boss alerted me to a potential contender for her affections, and I refused to lose again. She denied any current relationship, and while I didn’t doubt her sincerity, I didn’t trust him. I’d never met him, but I trusted Barb’s opinion.

  I could tell how much she cared for Moxie, and she’d called Miles a weasel. I didn’t know what that was, but the look on her face as she said it told me it wasn’t good.

  I had to prove the sincerity of my intentions and how much I cared for her. On Dakon, I would have gone hunting and brought back a kel for food and clothing, but I couldn’t do that here. So, my only option was to demonstrate how I felt. I would hold her, caress her, and show her the pleasure I could bring her. And then I would ask her to be my mate. Once I got her agreement, we could plan to return to Dakon and rejoin my son.

  * * * *

  The lack of privacy at the barracks where I resided wasn’t conducive to relations, so I was relieved when Moxie suggested we go to her apartment. I remembered her hut from the other night, but now that we arrived from a different direction, I realized she lived a short distance away from where she’d been attacked. While her hut was located in a tall, attractive building of many floors on a vibrant street where the buildings were in good repair and trees and shrubbery grew among the hardscape, its proximity to the other area worried me. At least she had a uniformed doorman guarding her complex. He was a different one from the other night.

  “This is Sixx, my friend,” she said to him. “If he comes to visit me, send him up.”

  “Will do, Ms. Maguire.”

  A riding box zoomed us to the fifteenth
floor, and then we walked down the quiet, carpeted passage to her door.

  Moxie leaned against the jamb. Her lips curved. She dangled the box from Barbie Q’s. “Come in for dessert?” She waggled her eyebrows.

  My horns tingled and swelled at her seductive smile. Part of our meal had included two triple-chocolate brownies, which had been packed for us since we’d been too full to eat any more. “As long as you’re not really talking about dessert…” I said.

  “You’ll have to see,” she teased.

  Her hut was small, without a lot of furniture, but what she did own was big. A huge gray sofa took up an entire wall and, with the matching ottoman, half the living room floor. A massive television hung opposite the sofa. Large glass doors overlooked a small patio containing some droopy potted plants, two chairs, and a small table. “Do you eat outside?” I asked, curious. I didn’t see a place to have a meal.

  “Sometimes I’ll have coffee on the patio, but, if I’m home, I eat on the couch in front of the TV—or at my computer. I use my dining room as an office.” She pointed to a glass U-shaped desk supporting four screens, several keyboards, joysticks, headphones, and equipment I didn’t recognize. Papers were piled into messy stacks.

  Except for that area, the rest of the place didn’t look lived-in. I glanced at the near-dead plants outside.

  “I’m not home much,” she said. “When I am, I’m working.”

  “Don’t you work at work?” I asked.

  “I have my own projects. My plan is to start my own company soon.”

  She set her phone with the shattered screen on the ottoman. “Your phone is still operational?” I asked.

  “Yes, surprisingly. But, I ordered a new one. It should be here in a few days.” She held up the dessert box. “I’ll put these in the kitchen for later. Would you like a glass of wine?”

  I followed her into a sterile workspace of white walls, counters, and cabinets. Like the main room, this space didn’t look used, either. She intercepted my gaze. “I don’t cook much.”