Rocky: Stargazer Alien Mail Order Brides (Intergalactic Dating Agency)

by Tasha Black

  Instead, he disappeared into the model observatory.

  She wondered if he was going to get a rope or something to make climbing after her more secure. Then she shivered at the thought of him doing such a thing, and hoped one of the gang had called 9-1-1 before he’d come to find her.

  Minutes later she heard something close.

  Across from her, she saw the top of the observatory open.

  Rocky climbed out, clinging to the metal ladder that led to the top of the domed roof.

  “Rocky, no,” she called to him, afraid his feet would slip on the copper. He couldn’t help her from there anyway - it was at least thirty feet from her to the slippery surface of the roof opposite.

  But Rocky did not heed her warning.

  He stepped onto the surface of the roof.

  “Please, no, Rocky,” she pleaded. “Help will be here soon. Go back inside where it’s safe.”

  Instead, he gazed at her in open adoration, and extended his hand as if to caress her cheek across the distance.

  Georgia’s heart dropped to her feet.

  Her dream…

  This was her nightmare.

  Powerless to stop him, her body suddenly went weak. Georgia began to lose her grip on the railing.

  It’s a dream, it’s a dream, she told herself.

  But it wasn’t a dream. She knew from the way her stomach lurched and the scent of the dry rotted wood and the whistle of the wind that it was real, her senses were firing.

  And then Rocky took a step forward, off the roof.

  “No,” Georgia whispered.

  But he didn’t fall.

  He walked.

  No, he flew.

  One moment he was on the rooftop of the observatory, the next he was cradling her in his arms.

  “It’s alright, my love,” he crooned in her ear, “I will never let you fall.”

  Then the world went to black.

  13

  Rocky

  Rocky strode back through the grasses to the entrance, hoping no one had seen him. His brothers knew of his gift of course, and the girls might not be shocked to know. But the others, their friends, they would not understand.

  Georgia’s weight was warm and satisfying in his arms. The only shame was in the fact that he had frightened her so much she had fainted.

  Nonetheless, she was a healthy woman and would be right again in no time. And meanwhile, he had the privilege of holding her close, protecting her in a way she would not allow in her waking life.

  “What happened?” Rima squealed, dashing toward him as he came around the corner of the entry area.

  “She almost fell. I managed to catch her but not before she passed out,” he said truthfully, avoiding the finer details.

  “Should we call an ambulance?” Rima asked.

  “What do you mean, you caught her?” Posey demanded, suspicion blazing in her dark eyes.

  Bond took Rocky by the arm, and led him away before he could answer.

  “She knows now?” Bond asked.

  Rocky nodded.

  “Take her home. The others will give us a ride,” Bond said, dropping car keys in Rocky’s hands. “We have much to do here, and you have much to talk about.”

  Rocky nodded gratefully.

  Bond clapped him on the shoulder and turned back to the group.

  Rocky headed to the car with his love, before anyone could stop them. He prayed she would not wake before the car was moving, otherwise she might insist on staying to work, and he wasn’t sure he could let her out of his sight for a moment after her ordeal.

  He started the engine. The machine was needlessly complicated for a vehicle with so little potential mobility, but he and his brothers had all caught on to driving without any issues.

  He glanced again at his Georgia and pulled out of the lot.

  14

  Georgia

  Georgia woke up in the backseat of a moving vehicle. Looking out the window she saw the boxwood hedge leading back to the observatory, the real one, not the…

  Oh.

  Oh, god.

  She looked to the front seat.

  Rocky was driving, the back of his head reassuring her that he had not dropped to the ground.

  Which meant…

  “Rocky,” she said, trying not to sound hysterical.

  “Oh, there you are,” he said, a smile in his voice.

  “D-did you…” she was unable to find the words to ask what he had done.

  “Let’s park and get you inside and then we’ll talk it all out,” he said.

  They were parking already, so it was no sacrifice to undo her seatbelt.

  Rocky opened her door, a sunny smile on his handsome face.

  “Let’s not take any chances,” he said, bending to sweep her up in his arms.

  After everything she had been through today, surely she would not feel anything at being carried.

  But Georgia’s traitorous body shamelessly melded to his and cozy pleasure filled her chest.

  They were inside and traveling down, down the curving stair until they had reached the girls’ floor.

  Rocky opened the door to her room and strode inside, depositing her gently on her bed.

  Then he sat beside her.

  “You… you can fly,” she said, hearing the accusing note in her own voice after the words were out.

  “Yes,” Rocky agreed. “I did not lose that gift when I took human form. We are not sure why.”

  “You can fly,” she repeated, incredulous, and unable to think of another word to say.

  “Indeed,” he agreed with her, looking rather confused.

  Georgia opened her mouth and closed it again.

  “If I understand your art and literature rightly, it is human nature to long for flight,” Rocky observed.

  Georgia thought about that and nodded.

  “We dream about it, literally,” she told him. “I do. I have since I was a little kid - the dream of leaping and staying airborne a little longer with each jump.”

  “I wish I could teach it to you,” Rocky said eagerly. “I wonder if you could learn it.”

  Georgia shook her head.

  “No, it’s not something a person can do. But, maybe one day, you’ll take me for a ride. I mean, when I know it’s coming and I don’t pass out.”

  “Like Lois Lane,” Rocky said, his eyes twinkling.

  “They sent you the Christopher Reeves movie, huh?” Georgia asked.

  “I admire Superman. You know, he is the police officer of the sky,” Rocky said as if he were putting it together.

  “He’s a superhero, it’s different,” Georgia explained. “Most police officers help find lost kids, stop people who are driving too fast, that kind of thing.”

  “Yes, like Superman,” Rocky nodded, “but without the flying.”

  Georgia decided not to press the point.

  “So is there anything else amazing you can do that I don’t know yet?” she asked.

  Rocky arched an eyebrow, then grinned.

  Georgia felt her face flush.

  “Is that all you think about?” she scolded him, though lately it seemed to be all that was on her mind as well.

  “Pretty much,” he nodded, leaning closer.

  She rolled her eyes.

  He laughed for a moment, then thumped the bed with one big hand.

  “Enough silliness,” he declared. “Now I must bathe you and then you will eat soup.”

  “What?” Georgia asked.

  “You were frightened, you passed out, you were cold. Your body needs warm water and hot soup.”

  “Oh, no, I’m fine,” she protested.

  “You delight in telling me that I don’t understand things, but from Jane Eyre to Little House on the Prairie, it is known that fright and exposure require a warm bath and soup. Now I can go and run the water, and turn my back when you get in, or I can undress you myself. It’s up to you.”

  The warm bath did sound good. And he was so insistent.<
br />
  “Fine, go get the water started,” Georgia allowed.

  “Pity,” Rocky said, getting up.

  It wasn’t until he left the room that she caught that he would have preferred to undress her.

  When she was quite sure he was in the other room, Georgia stripped out of her clothes and slipped on her fluffy bathrobe. At least it wasn’t sexy.

  She padded into the bathroom. The steam was already fogging the mirror.

  Rocky was kneeling by the tub, pouring in bubble bath.

  “Hop in,” he invited her.

  “You can go now,” she told him

  “Oh no, you had a scare, you passed out,” he reminded her. “I’m not leaving you alone in two feet of water. What if you lose consciousness again? You could drown. Get in, I’ll turn my back.”

  She sighed, but could tell there was no point arguing. Besides, there really were tons of bubbles.

  He turned away and she quickly dropped her robe to the floor and slid into the tub.

  The warmth was heavenly, she felt muscles she hadn’t known were stiff begin to relax. The rich honeysuckle fragrance of the bathwater eased her mood as well.

  “Are you in?” Rocky asked.

  “Yes,” she replied primly.

  He came back and sat on the edge of the tub.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in alarm.

  “Just keeping you company,” he said with an air of playful innocence.

  Unable to resist, she splashed him with soapy water.

  “Hey,” he protested.

  But there was a twinkle in his eye and he reached into the tub to splash her back.

  “I thought you were supposed to be protecting me from getting hurt, not drowning me,” Georgia said, splashing him again.

  “Oh, Earth girls like you don’t need protection,” he teased. “You want to climb on top of roller coasters and save lost dogs. You don’t need big strong men.”

  “You’re right, we don’t,” she replied firmly, even though she knew he was joking.

  “You don’t,” he agreed.

  But he was trailing his hand along the top of the bubbly water toward her, and for the life of her, she couldn’t manage to protest.

  Instead, she watched in an agony of suspense, as Rocky swirled a curved line closer and closer to her shoulder.

  At the last moment, he scooped up a few bubbles with his index finger and deposited them on the tip of her nose.

  Damnit.

  He was playing with her. He was teasing her and it wasn’t fair.

  Well two could play at that game.

  Georgia rose slowly from the water. Using visualization to enhance her confidence, she pictured herself as Venus, rising from the sea, the bubbles the sea foam clinging to her curves.

  “I think I’m finished in the bath,” she said.

  Rocky stared up at her, his eyes smoldering.

  Yes, she had gotten to him.

  “Oh, but you’re not clean,” he growled.

  “I’m too tired after my ordeal,” she sighed.

  Eyes flashing, he stood.

  He towered over her now. Any feeling of physical superiority she had enjoyed looking down on him a moment ago was gone.

  “I’ll help you,” he offered.

  The air seemed to go out of the room. Georgia felt woozy on her feet again.

  She had challenged him, but she hadn’t expected him to accept.

  She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  Rocky bent, his face an inch from her right breast, and grabbed the bottle of liquid soap.

  He straightened and looked directly into her eyes as he poured a bit into his hand and rubbed it between his palms.

  Georgia pictured herself as the soap, warming, turning to cream under the friction of his hands.

  Rocky reached out, his hands hovering over her shoulders, as if daring her to chicken out.

  She held herself still. Oh, so still.

  Then his hands were on her, so big they wrapped around her shoulders completely.

  Georgia felt small and pliant. An unfamiliar satisfaction settled into her. It took her a moment to recognize that it was the pleasure of letting go of control.

  He massaged her gently for a moment, then smoothed down her arms, lingering over her wrists, caging them like birds for a moment.

  Georgia pictured him pinning her to the wall by her wrists, ravaging her breasts…

  But he let them go, and reached up again, molded his hands over her neck, thumbs against her throat, then slid down over her clavicle.

  She waited anxiously to feel his hands on her breasts.

  Rocky slid his hands around her to cradle her ribcage, and on down to her hips, leaving her nipples pounding.

  But now every touch had her imagination running wild. Would he clutch her hips and grind himself into her? Would he tear off his clothes and get in the tub too?

  He would not.

  Rocky slid his hands back up by way of her belly.

  “Turn around,” he said through clenched teeth.

  She tried not to smile, triumphant in the idea that he was playing cool, but aching for her too.

  Then he was massaging her shoulder blades, her back. His hands roved down over the swell of her buttocks.

  Georgia fought to steady her breath.

  He stopped and she nearly whimpered, but she could hear he was only getting more soap.

  “Spread your legs,” he said darkly.

  She obeyed immediately, resting her palms against the cool tile of the backsplash. She looked over her shoulder to see him kneel.

  Then his hands were on her again, massaging her thighs, down to her calves and back up again without touching the one part of her that screamed for his attention.

  “Turn around,” he said.

  She turned.

  “Keep your legs apart,” he told her.

  She spread her legs again, trembling as she looked down at him.

  Gorgeous did not even begin to describe his masculine beauty. The dark, unruly hair, his big eyes and high cheekbones, his muscled body outlined by the t-shirt wilting against him in the humid room.

  Rocky gazed into her eyes as he slid his hands up from her calves to her upper thighs, his thumbs so, so close.

  “When I saw you up there, in danger tonight,” he said suddenly, “I thought I would die, Georgia.”

  She nodded and bit back sudden tears. She’d had the same feeling when he stepped into the sky. She cared about him.

  “Will you belong to me?” he asked.

  Yes, yes, yes, her heart sang.

  Just as quickly Georgia’s memory flashed an image of her mother before her eyes. Beautiful, bored and angry, her mother lounged in a pool chair, glaring at her father in open resentment.

  “No, no, I’m not ready. Please, can’t we just go slowly with the belonging thing?” Georgia begged.

  Rocky clenched his jaw in frustration, then shook his head and smiled up at her, the picture of patience regained.

  “Why don’t you finish up?” he said, standing. “I’ve got soup to make.”

  But, but, but…

  Then the door was closing behind him.

  Georgia stood in the cooling water for a full minute, listening to her mind and heart scream bloody murder at each other, before she got it together to finish cleaning herself up.

  15

  Carlton Briggs

  Carlton Briggs leaned back in his ergonomic office chair and rested his feet on the glass surface of his desk. He was wearing a new pair of cowboy boots. Snakeskin, and soft as a baby’s bottom, according to the sales clerk.

  Carlton had felt fantastic when he tried them on, striding around the store, two inches taller than his usual self, heels clicking the hardwood floor. He pictured himself hiking the woods around the observatory in his new duds.

  But now that he was back in his own office he wasn’t so sure. Was he too old for these boots? Or was he wearing them ironically? Wasn’t that a thing nowadays? H
e certainly didn’t want to appear foolish, especially when that little redhead might show up at any moment.

  She would show up, it was only a matter of when. If Carlton Briggs knew one thing about business it was that when a weaker party thought a missive might help their cause, they eventually sent the missive. And Carlton Briggs knew many, many things about business.

  It wouldn’t help their cause. But if he could convince the little thing to notice how sophisticated he was, how wise and well-heeled, maybe he could get her out for dinner.

  He wouldn’t be serious about her. She wasn’t worthy of all that. But he’d love to see that proud mouth give him head a couple of times before kicking her to the curb.

  There was a tentative knock at the door.

  Oh, yeah.

  “Come in,” he said in a deep, casual voice, without taking his feet off the desk.

  “Hey, boss, you okay?” Sonny Whip, a pale man as thin and wiry as his name, asked in a nasally voice.

  “I’m fine, Sonny,” Carlton said, sitting up fitfully and almost knocking his chair over in the process.

  “Oh, your voice sounded weird,” Sonny remarked from the doorway.

  “Whoa nice boots, Mr. B.,” Larry Adwell said. Larry was the opposite of Sonny, short, round, and swarthy with some mix of ethnicities Carlton didn’t care to decipher.

  The two men strode in and made themselves at home. They knew they weren’t allowed to sit on the leather sofa, but they lolled against the walls and tables like ivy.

  “Thank you, Larry,” Carlton said, feeling a bit appeased.

  “Are they for Halloween?” Larry asked.

  “What?” Carlton replied.

  “You know, like you’re gonna’ be a… cowboy or…” Larry said, trailing off as he clearly recognized his error..

  “No, Larry, they are not a costume. These are actual snakeskin boots - smooth as a baby’s bottom,” Carlton spat.

  But even as he said it, he knew the whole thing was stupid. He would be taking the boots back and leaving anonymous online complaints about the salesman in every possible location. He’d have that bastard’s job taken away by morning.