Kord

by Cara Bristol

  Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight—my date will stand me up. One could hope.

  It was still early, but I scanned the bar for khakis and a white dress shirt, the attire Jessie had said my IDA date would wear so I could recognize him. I saw T-shirts and denim aplenty from the extraterrestrials attempting to “blend in,” and metallic jumpsuits fitted with hoses, gaskets, and gauges from those who didn’t, but no khakis or white dress shirts. I’m not ready for this. Dating was never pleasant, but why was I so much more nervous this time?

  Moving the swizzle stick aside to avoid poking my eye out, I took a sip of gin for fortitude. I hadn’t accepted another date just to be nice to Jessie and not ruin her record but because I still held out a speck of futile hope I would meet somebody suitable, somebody I could trust enough to lower my shields and fall in love.

  Somebody to help me forget Kord and his kiss. I touched my lips. Forget the safety and security of his strong arms. How much he turned me on. He made me long for things that didn’t exist, a fantasy forever.

  Kord was exactly the kind of man I needed to avoid. Besides the fact that he was off-limits because he worked for me, the emotions he aroused scared me. He tempted me to throw caution to the winds and plunge into a relationship. I couldn’t do that. I needed to wade in slowly, acclimate, test the waters.

  I sighed. I shouldn’t even be here. Dating was pointless. As much as I longed to meet a great guy, I never would because the man wasn’t the issue—I was. I didn’t need a dating service—I needed therapy. I had met decent guys, but as soon as the relationship got emotionally intimate, I ran. I found some reason why it wouldn’t work.

  My parents had demonstrated what “love” did to people.

  I was a big fat fraud. People believed me to be bold, confident—it was all an act. Getting close to a man, giving him my trust, becoming vulnerable scared me to death.

  I was like Boots, the feral cat who lived in the alley behind Barbie Q’s. She let me feed her, she followed me around the alley when I dumped the trash, but she wouldn’t allow me to pick her up or even touch her. She craved affection, but she feared it.

  Kord, with one kiss, had gotten closer than any man ever had. In his arms, my tumultuous past receded and I could almost picture a different future for myself. One with a partner. A house with a white picket fence. Two kids and a dog. That was why he was dangerous. If one kiss held that kind of power over me, what would a relationship do to me? Who would I be? What would I become?

  I took a gulp of my cocktail then nearly spit it across the table when a man in khakis and a white button-down shirt entered. No. no. no. It couldn’t be!

  Kord scanned the bar. His gaze alighted on me, and I’d swear his horns twitched. He headed my way.

  My heart pounded, and I clutched my drink. How had this happened? Of all the extraterrestrial taverns in all the planets in all the galaxy… “You can’t be my IDA date…”

  “Why can’t I be?” His gaze seemed to sizzle, and his horns were definitely throbbing.

  My mouth dried. “You’re not wearing your buckskins,” I said inanely. His khakis and shirt looked brand new, the latter crisp and starched, as if he’d just removed it from the package. The top button was undone, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. It was the kind of attire a business executive would wear on Casual Friday. On another man, the attire could have been stuffy, boring, but on him, it looked sexy, tempted me to unbutton the shirt all the way. He looked hotter than a honeymoon hotel. I gulped.

  He gestured to the empty seat. “May I sit down?”

  “Oh. Of course.” I shifted in my chair, grabbed my drink, and took a gulp.

  “I only have a couple of sets of kel clothing. Besides, I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable if I resembled an Earth man.”

  He could never be mistaken for a mere Earth man. “You’re fine the way you are,” I said.

  His horns pulsed. Why did they do that? I wondered. Were they like barometers, registering air pressure? Did they help orient him in space like a cat’s whiskers?

  The cocktail waitress with three breasts and a blue forked tongue materialized and plunked a frothy mug in front of Kord. “Dakonian ale.”

  “How did you know what I wanted?”

  “I remembered from the last time you were in. Besides, it’s what all you Dakonian boys order,” she said. “You okay, hon?” She looked at me. “Need another drink?”

  “No, I’m good with one. Thank you.”

  She zipped away.

  “You’ve been here before?” I asked Kord.

  “With my brother, Braxx. We came to Earth together.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I slapped you. I was out of line.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” he said. “I overstepped my bounds.” He raked his hands through his hair. “I acted impulsively. I assumed you wanted what I wanted. My bad.”

  No, it was my bad. I had wanted he wanted. I still did. Courage. Courage. I took a deep breath. For once in your life, be honest.

  “It’s not you—it’s me.”

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Are you breaking up with me before we’ve even finished our first date?”

  “I’m not a good risk. I’m terrible at relationships.”

  Rather than deter him, the bad news seemed to give him hope. His expression lightened, and his horns did that pulsing thing again. “Does that mean you’re willing to risk a relationship with me?”

  “I’m trying to tell you, you don’t want me.”

  “Too late. I already do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we were meant for each other.”

  “We hardly know one another.”

  “I knew everything I needed to know the moment I saw you. But if I required a reason, you’ve given me plenty. You’re kind and generous. You feed the stray animals that show up behind the restaurant and the stray people. You give away a ton of food. Your staff love and respect you. You work harder than anybody. Even though you own the place, you’re not above jumping in and doing the most menial jobs to help out. You keep people on who should be let go. You never fire anybody.”

  I squirmed in my seat. His words felt suspiciously like compliments, which I didn’t take well. “Not true,” I objected. “I fired a waitress once when she attacked another server in a fit of jealousy and ended up throwing food on a customer.”

  “And didn’t you call a friend and get her hired on at another restaurant?”

  “How did you know that?” I didn’t think anybody knew, except for Holly. Had she been talking about me? I ought to fire her. Except, like he’d just pointed out, I couldn’t bring myself to terminate anybody, unless I had no choice, and then I had to fix it.

  He shrugged, unwilling to rat out Holly, which made me respect him even more. “Beyond your kindness, I like the way your ass wiggles in the skirts you wear, how your hair stands up on its own, how your bosom bounces, your smile, your laugh—” He lowered his voice and leaned across the table. “You make my horns throb.”

  Oh. My. God. “You mean your horns throb when you’re turned on?” His horns had been throbbing a lot. Every time I looked at him, they—

  “They pulse when we’re in the presence of our Fated mates.”

  My heart thudded, and my pussy fluttered with arousal. Heat flooded my face. Okay, we had chemistry. Serious chemistry, but he shouldn’t read more into it. I had to let him down easy. I pressed my thighs together, wishing I was anywhere else but here. I should have canceled my IDA membership like I’d intended. Why had I let Jessie talk me into this? And why had she matched Kord and me anyway? Hadn’t Holly said he had a girlfriend?

  I regarded him with the hardest stare I could muster. “I thought you were seeing someone,” I said. “A woman,” I spelled it out just so there would be no misunderstanding.

  His gaze became intense, heated. “You. You’re the one I’m seeing.”

  Holly! What a conniving…
“We can’t be Fated mates,” I said.

  “Because you have a male?” A muscle ticked in his cheek. “Holly said you had met someone,” he said. This was my out, a way to let him down easy.

  “Holly is a big fat liar.” Bluebonnets and nachos! Why had I said that?

  He blinked. “You’re not dating anybody?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean we can.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s too soon. We hardly know each other.”

  “No, it’s not. That’s how finding your Fated mate works. When you meet him or her, you know immediately. I went out with eleven females—all supposedly my perfect match—but none of them interested me, none of them caused my horns to twitch.”

  “Did any of them arrive in a metal bucket?” This conversation had gotten too serious, too uncomfortable.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Sorry. Bad joke.” I toyed with my cocktail napkin, rolling the edge. “You think you know, but I don’t.” There, I’d spoken the truth for once.

  “You don’t feel the connection, the attraction between us?”

  I should deny it, end this discussion, but I couldn’t lie. We did have a connection. He made my body hum and my heart sing. Just seeing him brightened my day. On his days off, I felt down in the dumps. “That doesn’t mean we’re Fated.”

  “Prove it,” he said.

  I frowned. “Prove it? How can I prove it?”

  “Do what you Earthlings do—date me. Then you’ll see.”

  My heart raced. For an instant, I fantasized what it would be like. To see Kord outside of work. To go out like a real couple, to hold hands, to kiss, to… A wave of longing and lust rushed through me with such force, I closed my eyes. Dating him would be so good—until it wasn’t. Then it would be devastating because all good things end. I opened my eyes. “You’ll get hurt,” I said. I’d be hurt. He’d discover I was all broth, no beans. A fake. Nothing about me was genuine—not my bleached and extended hair, not my silicone boobs, not my Texas drawl, not my courage. Especially not my courage.

  I was an actor in my own life. For my entire existence, I’d covered up the chaos at home and the insecurity and fear inside by pretending everything was normal. I’d been performing in this farce for so long, I’d forgotten what real was. Dating Kord would lead to disaster. I’d be an idiot to consider it even for an instant.

  “I’m willing to take the chance,” he said. “Won’t you take it with me?”

  Kord had called me kind. Letting him down now and saving him loads of future pain would be the greatest act of kindness I could bestow—even though he wouldn’t think so tonight. That’s what I should do. But I craved. I coveted. Rather than cut him loose, I wanted to grab a little happiness for myself, to borrow some time with a hot guy who stared at me like he’d won the grand prize in the lottery of life.

  Just a couple of dates. Was that too much to ask for? “We can try it for a little while,” I said.

  “Obah!” He grinned.

  Chapter Seven

  Kord

  Waiting for the last of the staff to depart, I straightened already neat chairs.

  “I’m leaving now. She’s all yours,” Holly said.

  “Excuse me?” My gaze shot to the area overlooking the restaurant floor.

  Her bag slung over her shoulder, she quirked her mouth. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  Two weeks had passed since Braxx and I came up with the idea to approach Jessie at the IDA and ask her to intervene and set me up with Barb. Barb and I had met at the Stellar Dust Bin, and she’d agreed to date me, but she’d sworn me to secrecy. Because of the no-fraternization policy, we had to be discreet, she’d said. Besides, she’d added, she didn’t want to “give Holly the satisfaction,” whatever that meant.

  “She’s up in her office,” Holly said. “Even though I missed on the actual date and didn’t win the pool, I’m happy about the way things turned out.”

  Date? Pool? “I don’t understand.”

  “Not important.” Holly twirled her wrist. “Listen. She needs you. You two go together like coleslaw and barbecue, like fries and ketchup, like Texas and the two-step. But you might hit some resistance. Winning Barb over will take finesse and persistence. Don’t give up on her.”

  “I won’t,” I replied automatically and then realized I’d just confirmed her suspicion. Shoot. Barb wasn’t going to be happy I’d spilled the beans about our dating. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything…”

  “You didn’t say anything everybody didn’t already know. Barb is like that mangy alley cat. She’ll hiss, spit, and scratch, but if you keep feeding her what she needs, she’ll come around.”

  “Thanks for the advice.”

  Holly laughed. “Good luck.”

  As soon as the door shut and locked behind her, I flung my apron off and charged up the stairs.

  Barb threw herself into my arms. “I thought this day would never end.” She meshed her mouth to mine while her busy fingers undid the toggles of my tunic. “It’s so hard to pretend you’re just another employee.” She shoved the garment off my shoulders and smoothed her palms over my chest.

  I could have pointed out we didn’t have to pretend—she’d been the one to insist on secrecy. I would have preferred to express my feelings openly. However, a blaze of desire consumed me, and I couldn’t think, let alone marshal an argument.

  Her touch sent tingles through my horns and hardened my manhood to full staff. I pretty much worked in a state of permanent semi-arousal, Barb’s proximity never far from my mind. Frequently, I sensed her observing me from her lair, her unseen gaze like a caress. Knowing she watched made my horns throb so much that even customers commented.

  She wanted me as much as I desired her. Each night after the restaurant closed, she would throw herself into my arms, and passion would consume us.

  I cupped her face and kissed her, long and deep, exploring her mouth, savoring scent and sensation. Her lips were frantic against mine, her tongue avid. I pulled her close and tight against my chest.

  She wound her arms around my neck and clasped her legs around my hips. Her short denim skirt rode up over her thighs, and the mound of her panty-covered womanhood pressed against my erection. I meshed my mouth to hers before trailing kisses to her ear, her neck, and then hoisted her higher so I could bury my face in the cleavage bared by her denim vest.

  A more torturous garment I’d never encountered. Constructed of heavy faded-blue fabric, it displayed a good amount of her bosom, but its stern, stubborn metal fasteners defied me. Look but don’t touch. Fortunately, Barb held command over the garment. With nimble fingers, she popped the buttons, and her lacy underwire bra offered up the prize.

  I carried her to her desk, conveniently cleared of paper and accoutrements. She always cleaned it off in preparation for my arrival since the first night when we’d spilled day-old coffee over her computer keyboard. I set her on the desk, stepped between her thighs, and swooped in for a kiss.

  With a seductive smile, Barb pushed me away. “Take off the rest of your clothes.”

  I toed my kel footwear off and dropped my leggings.

  “I love a man who goes commando,” Barb purred. “Such easy access.” She lifted her right foot and wiggled it. “Help me with my boots…please.”

  I turned around, swung my leg over her outstretched one, and straddled her right calf.

  “Hot damn, sugar, you have a nice ass.” She planted her left sole against my left butt cheek. She pushed while I pulled on her right boot, and the shoe came off. I straddled the other leg, she pressed her bare right foot on my ass, and we removed the left boot.

  I jumped as she tickled my balls and erection with her toes. She giggled. I dropped her foot and spun around. “Your turn.”

  She wiggled out of her skirt and then only a tiny scrap called a thong and her bra remained. She unhooked the latter and flung it away. Her bountiful breasts
stood high on her chest in an amazing feat of suspension. I cupped them and rubbed my thumbs over her peaked nipples. “How do they do that?” I mused.

  “Do what?” she asked, and I realized I’d spoken aloud.

  “Stand up like that.” Barb was the only female I’d had relations with, but I had seen vids and photos of other females’ breasts. Hers could be soldiers the way they saluted.

  She thrust out her chest. “The miracle of silicone.”

  “Silicone?”

  She shimmied. “They’re not real. I had a breast augmentation. A boob job.”

  “They look real.” Felt real, too, as far as I could tell.

  “This is what’s real.” She wrapped her hands around my cock. “Impressive and unaugmented.” Heat sizzled through me as she stroked.

  Until coming to Earth, I hadn’t realized one could improve upon nature, but then I started receiving emails offering to enlarge my manhood. I responded to the offers, thanking the senders but informing them I was satisfied with my penis size.

  Barb leaned forward and sucked my erect manhood into her mouth, and I ceased thinking about anything except the blaze of the sensation. I held her head, tangling my hands in her hair. Focus shifted to my lower regions and the hot, wet suction. The pull and slide. Her cheeks hollowed, and she peered up at me with seductive devilment. She cupped my balls, scraping my sac lightly with her fingernails before sliding her hands around to my backside and squeezing my ass.

  Blood turned to a liquid fire. Need coiled into tight springs. My horns ached, felt swollen to double size. Good Fates, yes, this was what was real. Her. Me. The yearning. The connection, the union with another being. Molten desire exploding into flames from a mere glance from my Fated mate. All real.

  Orgasm struck with a powerful rush. Muscles contracted, my horns and cock pulsed almost to the point of pain, and I bellowed as my body released my essence in a paroxysm of ecstasy.

  Panting, I opened my eyes. Barb smiled and licked her lips. In the beginning, I’d resisted taking my pleasure first, but Barb had continued to entice me, insisting she enjoyed “giving blow jobs,” and from the alacrity with which she applied herself, she seemed to. Truthfully, with some of the pressure relieved, I could better focus on her, so I’d stopped resisting. I went with the flow as Earthers would say.