by Cynthia Sax
Lust by Moonbeam
Cynthia Sax
Cathy arrives at Moonbeam, the Roswell of the North, with one goal—to prove the mysterious dead tree circles are not caused by UFOs. Meeting a devastatingly handsome lumberjack with unusual blue and green eyes is a bonus. He thinks he’s an alien, but that doesn’t bother Cathy. She can tolerate a little crazy in a one-night stand, especially since Rellec claims her body as no sane man ever has—with the hungry touch of forever.
Rellec arrives at Moonbeam with one goal—to retrieve his assigned mate, ensuring the continuation of his species. Having trained long and hard for his erotic mission, he is determined to satisfy his tiny human female and overcome her objections with out-of-this-world passion.
Failure is not an option.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Lust by Moonbeam
ISBN 9781419936432
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Lust by Moonbeam Copyright © 2011 Cynthia Sax
Edited by Briana St. James
Cover design by Mina Carter
Photography: iStockPhoto.com
Electronic book publication October 2011
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LUST BY MOONBEAM
Cynthia Sax
Chapter One
“Shit!” Cathy lunged, reaching out to catch her flying phone. It bounced off her fingertips, connected with the toe of her work boot and shattered against the only freakin’ rock on an otherwise grass-covered path.
“Great, just great.” She set her toolkit down, bent over and picked up the pieces. “Another phone bites the dust.” Cathy stuffed the parts into her pants pocket.
“Don’t say anything.” She craned her neck to glare up at the shiny silver nine-foot-tall model of a UFO. “As you’re certainly not one to judge, ruining any chances I ever had of making Moonbeam my hometown.
“Why?” she continued her one-sided conversation. “Because you’re clearly as non-operational as my phone now is, that’s why. I also doubt the dead tree rings are a result of alien landings, so once I prove the o-rings are either naturally occurring or a hoax and I file my sure-to-be-newsworthy report with the Ministry of Natural Resources, your friendly Moonbeamers won’t be so friendly toward me.” She sighed.
“And I’ll be run out of yet another small town.” Her shoulders slumped. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the alien.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched. She was alone. Officer Danielle, her contact, hadn’t yet arrived and it was too early in the day for tourists. It was only her and Moonbeam’s most famous landmark.
“I meant no offense with the ‘fake’ comment.” Cathy patted the side of the flying saucer. A high-pitched ringing sound reverberated inside the fiberglass shell and a screw dropped from the panel.
“And I didn’t do that.” Half expecting the whole alien craft to come tumbling down around her, she stepped away from the spacecraft and glanced furtively to her left and to her right. No humans or aliens were nearby. She expelled the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, looked around her once more and bent to pick the screw up.
It had rolled next to a cheerful yellow dandelion poking defiantly through the cracked concrete base. “I also didn’t break the base. It was here when I arrived. When people accuse me, and for some reason they always do, I expect you to vouch for me.” She shook a finger in mock warning at the weed.
“The herbaceous plant has not yet mastered human speech,” a deep voice observed.
“Eh?” Cathy straightened quickly, cracking her head on the underbelly of the spaceship. Instead of stars, like normal people would see after a concussive smack, Cathy conjured up a hot man with eyes that could rival the Northern Lights for their brilliance. The iridescent blues and greens pulled her in, making her step toward the stranger for a better look.
Unable to focus on anything but him, she tripped over the cracked concrete and fell, tumbling headfirst into his arms, her momentum propelling him backward. They landed with a thump on the ground, his big body cushioning her fall.
The stranger gulped a big mouthful of the crisp northern air, his flannel-covered chest heaving against her cheek, and he matter-of-factly flipped her over in his lap. Cathy raised her chin. Their gazes met and held.
“Whoa,” she whispered, wincing at the pain ricocheting inside her skull. He was good-looking, his chiseled tanned face topped with disheveled black hair and dominated by those unnatural ever-changing eyes.
While Cathy stared into his irises, transfixed by the swirl of green and blue, the stranger ran his hands over her body. He examined her thoroughly, brushing the back of her aching head and dulling her pain before he trailed his fingertips along her neck and across her shoulders, the soothing heat radiating from his palms sending sparks of awareness shooting across her skin.
He skimmed his fingertips over her breasts, his caress tightening her nipples into taut, aching peaks. “Whoa,” she repeated. Warmth flooded her cheeks as he cupped her ass, squeezing her flesh. Moisture seeped from her pussy, her arousal flavoring the morning breeze.
Cathy knew she should stop him, but her flimsy reservations melted under the stranger’s magical, healing touch. She stretched out her legs, allowing him to slide his palms along her thighs, his fingers roaming dangerously close to the source of her heat.
“I have fixed your damage, my Catherine.” The man’s accent was thick and foreign, his bone-jarring rumble causing her toes to curl in her steel-toed work boots.
“Thank you.” Cathy sat across his legs, fitting against him as though she belonged there, cradled in his arms, and she breathed in deeply, inhaling his scent. He smelled like freshly cut grass and rich, dark earth, the aromas pulling at her already battered control. “How do you know my name?”
“This is a small town, druzka.” His perfect lips quirked upward. “Everyone knows your name.” His big arms wrapped around her waist and he pressed her back into the solidity of his body and the long, thick ridge in his faded blue jeans.
She shifted, rubbing her leg against the denim, and the ridge began to vibrate. Oh my God. Stifling a moan, Cathy squeezed her thighs together. “Your phone is ringing.”
His forehead furrowed with thought lines. “I have not acquired a phone. Is it a requirement for human courtship?”
T
he ridge continued to pulsate, massaging her leg. Cathy looked into his unusual eyes. “Then what is—”
Firm, hungry lips covered hers before she could finish her question and all her interest in the answer evaporated.
Hot damn.
The man kissed as intensely as he touched, his surge toward her forceful and demanding, driving her head back. He didn’t allow her escape, holding her face in his large palms, securing her, his tongue probing at the seam of her mouth.
Cathy resisted his passionate assault for two long heartbeats before she released a wonder-filled sigh of submission, opening up to him. His tongue slid over hers, tumbling, playing, exploring. He tasted of Canadian back bacon and strong black coffee, and as he kissed her, melding their two mouths together, he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, his delicious heat rippling across her skin in waves of pleasure.
They were kissing on a public lawn, in the shadow of a UFO, and the possibility that they might get caught heightened her desire. She clasped his broad shoulders, twisting the fabric in her fingers.
The vibrations against her thigh increased in intensity and she wiggled. He groaned into her mouth, his hard body hardening even more, and Cathy gripped his nape, trying to get closer to him. She wound her fingers in his silky hair and used the heel of her hand to pull him closer.
Something didn’t feel quite right, as if he wore a neck brace, yet the heat and feel of his bare skin belied her instinct. It was almost as if he had a flat bone where one shouldn’t be.
Cathy drew back from him to have a look. His neck appeared normal. She touched the spot again, stroking his tanned skin, and her fingertips glided along a hard ridge she couldn’t see. “What the hell?”
“My sentiments exactly.” Officer Danielle grabbed Cathy’s wrist and yanked her to her feet. The cop gave her a hard, questioning glance and Cathy’s cheeks heated. She looked away, unable to explain her impulsive actions.
“What the hell?” Officer Danielle turned her full ire on the stranger. “God damn it, Frank. I can’t leave a single woman alone for five minutes without worrying you’ll maul her.” Disdain dripped from the blonde’s downturned lips. “What do you think you’re doing, defending your title as Moonbeam’s resident manwhore?”
The stranger, Frank, palmed the forgotten screw before standing, his movements smooth and graceful. “Whore implies mating for monetary compensation.” He twisted the tiny silver screw into the hole in the spaceship with his bare hands. Frank was huge, towering over Cathy and Danielle, but other than his above-average height, he appeared normal, having no physical defects that she could see.
Cathy flexed her fingers. They moved fluidly. She brushed her hands together. She felt flesh. Her gaze returned to Frank. His shirt collar curved naturally around his neck.
“I have no need for monetary compensation from my Catherine,” Frank pointed out, his unusual eyes glowing blue. His manner of speaking was odd, like the too-proper English used by university professors and new immigrants.
“Cathy,” she corrected. “I prefer to be called Cathy.” She bumped against his side, grazing her hand over his thigh, searching for more sight-touch discrepancies. She found rock-hard human muscle.
“I prefer to be called Rellec.” He beamed at her, the wide smile enhancing his already too-handsome face.
Rellec, Cathy silently repeated. She liked it. Rellec was rugged and sexy and a name she could imagine calling out in the heat of passion as she writhed under his big body, her legs spread—
“And last week, he preferred to be called oh baby.” Danielle broke into Cathy’s erotic musings. “Frank changes his identity with every prospective girlfriend.” She rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, you need to spend time with him, since the dead trees are on his land. You might as well hitch a ride in his pimped-out slutmobile and have him show you around. That’ll save me a trip to the back of beyond, allowing me to get back to police business.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Cathy quickly agreed. She skimmed her fingertips over her lips. Her moist flesh hummed, imprinted with the pressure of his mouth. “If that’s okay with you.” She slid a sideways glance at Rellec. He frowned, his head tilted.
“It is,” Danielle answered for him. “I’ll catch you later…especially if you speed.” She laughed at her own joke as she walked away, swinging her police baton.
Cathy turned to Rellec. He watched her, not her beautiful contact’s bouncing ass, and his dark, hungry expression made her pussy clench. “Thanks for putting the screw back in the spaceship.” She paused. “Not that I broke it or anything.” She folded her arms under her breasts.
“Do not damage yourself, my Cathy.” His unusual eyes softened. “I am a fixer. That is my occupation.”
She blinked three times, and when his tolerant, almost loving, expression didn’t change, Cathy grinned. “I suppose we should go fix your trees.” She picked up her toolbox.
“I did not know fixing the broken trees was a priority. It was not on my work detail.” He held out his hand and Cathy took it. Her palm disappeared within his solid grip, a tingle of awareness coursing up her arm. When he held out his other hand, her face heated and she sheepishly transferred the toolkit to him. “I will fix the trees,” Rellec solemnly vowed, his fingers tightening around her hand as he stalked forward.
“How do you plan to do that, eh?” Cathy jogged to keep up with his longer stride, her heart pounding to the beat of her feet. “Do you know what caused the trees to die?”
“The thrusters obliterated the trees.” Although Rellec slowed his pace, Cathy’s heartbeat remained joyfully erratic, her pulse jumping each time his broad shoulders brushed against her smaller form. “The thrusters are too powerful or the trees are too delicate. I will adjust the thrusters first.”
“That’s all you can adjust.” She narrowed her eyes. The Ministry wouldn’t appreciate him mucking around with genetics. “And the thrusters are used for?”
“Our transport vessels, my Cathy. The thrusters enable the transport vessels to leave the surface of your blue and white planet. The gravitational pull is very strong.”
Cathy stared straight ahead, keeping her face carefully blank. Damn it. He was hunky and hot for her, so, of course, he was also batshit crazy. “You believe you’re an alien?” They passed a shiny apple-red convertible, but Rellec didn’t stop, pulling her forward.
“To you, I am an alien. To me, you are…you’re an alien.” He shrugged as he paused in front of an old blue pickup truck covered with rust spots and mud. Rellec set the toolkit in the flatbed, securing it, and opened the dented passenger door.
Cathy turned her head, gazing back at the red pimped-out slutmobile behind them. She then looked at the blue ozone destroyer. Rellec didn’t move, standing by the open door. His dark eyebrows lifted.
Get a grip, Cathy. He’d know which slutmobile was his.
She clutched the sides of the truck, stretching to place her foot on the high step. “Does your species…ummm…have relations with other species?” He was good-looking and polite and she was only in Moonbeam for three more nights. What the hell? Crazy or not, she’d fuck the kinky bastard, and she might even wear tinfoil antennas while he boned her.
Metal crumbled under her grasp. Cathy released the door’s frame immediately and backed away, brushing the rust stain off her skin. She peeked at Rellec through lowered eyelashes.
A smile curled his lips. “Under normal circumstances, no.” He placed his hands on her hips, his fingers spread possessively over her body, and he lifted. The curve of her ass rubbed over his groin, the intimate contact causing Cathy to inhale sharply and the peculiar ridge in Rellec’s jeans to vibrate faster. “The Sila race does not mate with other species.” He nonchalantly tossed her into the cab.
Cathy landed with an oomph on the torn leather seat. She righted herself, pushing her brown curls out of her face. “But these aren’t normal times?” she prompted as he rounded the hood. The door windows were either open or missing.
&
nbsp; “Your intelligence pleases me.” Rellec grinned at her as he filled the driver’s side with his big body and the cab with his delicious scent. “These are not…aren’t normal…times.” He repeated the word as though testing it. “The Sila have many, many males and very few females. We risk termination of our species and have searched the galaxies for compatible races.”
He pulled out of the parking spot without checking for traffic, the engine grinding under the strain of the fast start. Cathy slid along the seat and her knee banged against the door.
She put on her seatbelt, drawing the strap securely around her hips. “Humans are compatible,” Cathy surmised, nodding her head. “So we can fuck.”
Rellec stared down Highway 11 as though the winding road contained all the secrets of their universes, hers being real and his a fictional creation. “Fuck is not within my vocabulary,” he admitted.
Cathy hoped it was within his skill set. “Have sexual relations,” she explained.
“Yes.” He stole a glance at her, eyes swirling green and blue. “We can fuck.” He turned the vehicle onto a smaller road, narrowly missing a collision with a honking logging truck, and the stench of burning rubber filled Cathy’s nostrils. “Do you wish to fuck now, my Cathy?” Without slowing down, he unfastened his belt buckle.
“No, not now,” she squeaked. “Concentrate on your driving, please.” Cathy held on to the passenger door as Rellec swerved the pickup truck onto a gravel road, the tires squealing. “We can fuck later, when we get to your place.” Her gaze dropped to his lap. The large bulge in his jeans moved, gyrating against the denim, and she moistened her lips, hungry for a taste of alien cock. She’d lick him sane and swallow his crazy cum.
“We will fuck soon,” Rellec amended. The road narrowed until tree branches scraped the sides of the truck, releasing a fresh pine scent. He didn’t slow the vehicle down and Cathy held onto the dashboard, her teeth clicking together as they bounced over potholes.
