Romance: Scifi Romance: Mated by the Alien (Abduction BWWM Paranormal Romance) (Interracial First Contact Space Romance)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Mated by the Alien
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
BONUS STORIES
Galaxy’s Edge
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Star Crossed
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Gravity
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Saved by the Alien
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Destined to the Dragon
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
© Copyright 2016 by Linda Mathers – Fiery Desires http://fierydesires.com - All rights reserved.
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Mated by the Alien
Sci-fi Romance
By: Linda Mathers
Chapter 1
Eileen tossed and turned, the sheets twisting up around her body. She’d been lying here for what felt like hours, and at this point the notion that she might get any sleep whatsoever seemed like a hopeless one. She grumbled miserably as she switched her pillow to its cooler side, thinking that this might offer her some small measure of relief. But as she lay her head down upon its surface, and continued to hear the loud thumping of her heart in her ears, she realized that it wasn’t going to help. Surely, there must be something she could do.
It had been hours, she realized, since she’d laid down to try and rest. It was hot as hell on the top floor of the farmhouse, and she’d switched several times between wearing a tank-top and shorts and nothing but her bra and panties. But every time she took her clothes off she quickly became too cold, and whenever she put them back on again she boiled. She’d settled, at last, on a compromise, stripping to her underwear and then slipping beneath the covers, thinking it something of a happy medium. However, she quickly discovered that the temperature was the least of her problems. It was her mind which prevented her from getting the sleep she so desperately needed, and the longer she tossed and turned, the more anxious she became that sleep would never come to her.
She didn’t want to look at the clock, but at last, with a heavy sigh, gave in, and read “2:19 AM” lit up before her eyes in LED lights. Perfect, she thought to herself, pissed off and bringing a hand to her temple where a headache was rapidly brewing. The kicker here was that she’d actually gone to bed early, in hopes of avoiding another long, restless night. She hadn’t been sleeping well at all of late, and she thought getting a single good night’s rest might well nip the problem in the bud, breaking the cycle of her restlessness.
But of course, silly her, the only thing she managed to accomplish by her ambitious plan was to lay there longer than ever as she waited for sleep to take her. Staring up at the ceiling, her eyes beginning to water, her breathing getting more and more intense as the hours rolled along.
There was no point in keeping up this song and dance any longer, she thought. She threw the blankets off of her dark, sweaty body, her breasts heaving toward the ceiling, and instantly a shiver of cold ran through her, causing goosebumps to erupt across her flesh.
She stretched, working the kinks out of her muscles, and then hurried to slip back into her pajamas. She used a hand to dab sweat from her face, then crept out of the bedroom as though she feared waking someone even though she lived alone.
She made her way, exhausted, down the rickety staircase. One of these nights, she thought the banister would give way from her leaning too hard on it, and she would come crashing down to the floor below, and break her neck. The whole damn house was rapidly falling to pieces. But there was no way she had a hope in hell of getting anything replaced, and so she had to just keep pretending that what was left of her childhood home was still worth the upkeep.
One day, she fantasized, she would discover some way to make ends meet. She didn’t know how, exactly, or have much in the way of grand ideas. But she needed to keep fighting for it, and not let herself fall victim to despair. She had a feeling that this was a large part of what had done her father in, and she was too young; too optimistic to give into that trap just yet.
Or she had been, once upon a time.
Back then the future had looked brighter, more achievable. She’d grown up loving the farm, looking forward to the day that it would be passed down to her and that she would be responsible for living off the land as her father had before her.
Now, she made her way into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of whiskey, or perhaps two, or three. God, she hated herself for doing it. The last thing she wanted to do was become dependent on alcohol to keep herself going. Her father had battled addiction on and off for years before his death, and though it wasn’t the primary factor in the way things had gone for him, it certainly hadn’t made matters easier.
As she took a long sip of her nightcap, she considered the dangerous cocktail of factors that had led to the loss of her father. And she couldn’t help but feel that she herself was indulging those same bad habits that had brought her father to his early grave. Crippled by a heart attack after a lifetime of failure in almost every regard.
It brought tears to Eileen’s eyes just to think about it so she tried to suppress the memory as best she could. She dabbed her eyes with her hands, took a deep sniff, and then drank a considerable portion of whiskey.
He’d tried so hard for so long to make a decent life for her. He’d really done everything he could to make this place a good home. And for what he had to work with, he’d done an exceptional job. But both of them, then and now, knew that it hadn’t been enough.
He himself had lived on the farm growing up, and it had been the only home he’d ever known, as was the case for Eileen. As a child, and especially as a teenager, she’d resented living in such a rural area. Of being tied to a life of hard work for very little reward. She considered her family backwards and hick-ish, and longed to go and escape to the city nearby. It was like the Promised Land for her. An invitation to better things and smarter, cooler people. People who didn’t have to worry about stepping in cow shit when they walked out their front doors. People who weren’t left anxious about how they would make ends meet if the weather didn’t cooperate for them one year.
She’d had a rebellious stage throughout high school, craving
more than she’d been given. She had felt it unfair to her that she should be forced to live like a peasant when everyone she knew was having so much more fun, doing what they loved and simply enjoying their youth.
Eileen had worked like a dog at her chores without even getting allowance. By the time she’d finished school every day she was too exhausted to do anything remotely resembling fun. She’d worked up quite a resentment toward her parents, a feeling of ill-will that might have continued on to this day had it not been for the shocking and profound loss she suffered at the age of fifteen: Eileen’s mother had passed away one golden autumn afternoon.
It had been the most sobering wake-up call that Eileen could ever have expected, and it had broken her heart. Cancer. Forty-two years old, and her otherwise healthy mother had died of cancer.
Everything changed after that.
She and her father had both been devastated, but had had very little time to grieve over such a loss. With Eileen’s mother gone, the amount of work her father had to do to make ends meet doubled, and Eileen, similarly, found herself pitching in more and more with the work.
Only after that she didn’t resent having to do so much like she might once have.
Surely, it had something to do with her mother’s passing. But something had changed in Eileen’s attitude toward the place. Having once viewed it as something of an anchor fastened tightly around her neck, she now saw it as something far more close to her birthright. She came to accept the farm as the only home she knew.
She became nostalgic for the place. The cynicism that had briefly beset her during her teenage years gave way to an extreme sense of sentimentality. As much as she’d once wanted to run away from the godforsaken place, she began to see it as hers. She felt proud of her father’s hard work in tending the fields and the cattle, and she began to feel a craving to experience such pride herself. To become a part of the legacy that her father had built for her. To take ownership of it once the mantle was passed down, generation to generation.
Unfortunately, that time had come a lot sooner than Eileen or her father might have expected.
There had been no warning. No preparation for it. He’d simply collapsed in the field one day much to Eileen’s horror. She’d rushed to call an ambulance, and perhaps they might have done some good had the distance not been so great. But by the time they’d arrived on the scene he had already slipped away. Once again, life was thrown completely on its head for Eileen.
At least he’d been proud of her before the end, she sometimes thought with a smile.
And now?
All of it belonged to Eileen.
She had farm hands who helped her out with it because she couldn’t keep up with everything on her own. But she could just barely afford to pay them, and by the time everything got done that needed to be done, the farm was barely breaking even.
If even one thing went wrong somewhere along the line, Eileen’s future would be at risk. She could lose everything if a crop was destroyed, if the weather didn’t cooperate, if pests took it upon themselves to gobble up her fields.
And on nights where she couldn’t sleep, all her anxieties and sadness over the past came welling up inside of Eileen, driving her to drink. She felt pressured from all sides, and wished so much there was something she could do to make things easier for herself.
She couldn’t lose the farm. She just couldn’t. It was the only thing she had left of the past, to remind her of her parents. So many people had tried to talk her into selling it. Her friends. Her extended family. The bank. They just didn’t seem to understand what “home” meant, or at least not what it meant to her. Hell, even an old boyfriend had tried to drag her stubborn ass away from it, but she’d not gone down without a fight.
God, what a terrible thing to be thinking about just now, she mused to herself. But she couldn’t help but let a slightly wry smile spread across her lips as she thought back on her resilience to keep the farm. She cast her mind to her brief and faded love life.
Thinking about Kyle again was going to take more than just the one drink.
She burned her throat with the remainder of the whiskey from the first glass, and then promptly refilled it, giving herself just enough lubricant to avoid becoming overpowered by the emotions dredged up by thinking about her long lost flame.
Kyle, when separated from her circumstances, had been akin to the perfect man.
She’d met him taking ag classes at the community college in the city, right after her father had passed. It had been an inherently difficult time in her life, but she’d managed to put on one hell of a brave face throughout the entire ordeal. She was determined not to let what her parents had left for her to go to pot now that they were gone, and it seemed educating herself was the best way to ensure that it didn’t happen.
It had actually been an economics class that introduced the two of them. She didn’t find very many ways to relate to other ag students, and personality-wise she had more in common with students going into other professions. She’d made it her goal to remain focused on her studies and not become too distracted with socializing upon entering into the program. She rather begrudged the other students who treated postsecondary education like it was some wild party to be experienced for four years, when she was here genuinely trying to improve herself and her circumstances in life.
For the most part, her introverted nature during that period kept people successfully at bay. Eileen was a very attractive girl, with smooth ebony skin, the face of a model, and a body that was slim and firm from years of farm work. And had it not been for the resting bitch face she adopted to scare off potential creeps trying to hit on her, she probably would have received a lot more attention from all sides.
But Kyle, bold son of a bitch that he was, had made an effort to penetrate her defenses all the same. He sat next to her in class, asked her to borrow pencils, and seemed to forget his textbook with a rather obvious frequency so that he would have to end up asking Eileen to look at hers. He was a shameless flirt, and Eileen saw straight through him.
Yet she found, in spite of her attempts to focus, that she didn’t mind all that much.
Kyle was tall, dark and handsome. A beautiful man, to put it mildly. He was white, but of a darker complexion. And in any case, Eileen had never had any qualms with dating outside of her race. Particularly when the pickings were as fine as Kyle happened to be, she found that she was totally down with the swirl.
Still, though, she didn’t let him have his way with her quite that easily. When he flirted with her, she had no qualms about flirting right back. But it always came in the form of pretending to reject him, always with a smile on her face. She wanted him to try harder, to figure out what he was doing wrong and correct it, rather than for him to leave her alone.
Deep down Eileen didn’t really have a clue what she was looking for. She felt emotionally vulnerable for dating in any way, shape or form, and she felt she shouldn’t have even been playing the game with him in the first place. But she couldn’t deny that it felt good to be noticed in that way, and she supposed that a pair of strong arms around her, to carry her safely through the night, was hardly the worst thing for her during such an emotionally turbulent period.
After several months of a cat and mouse game, toward the end of their semester Eileen and Kyle ended up getting together. It was a much needed injection of happiness into her otherwise rather unhappy life.
He had been absolutely wonderful, for a time.
Eileen had had very little past dating experience, but she’d thought that Kyle might just have checked off enough boxes to meet the qualifications of “the one.” He was devilishly handsome, smart, sweet, kind, funny. He was a whiz at business, and down the line in the future he would have been a great help to her in figuring things out with the farm. She felt she could use someone like him by her side.
It had been a wild, passionate romance. Intense and ferocious on many levels. Although she was already in her twenties at the time, she�
�d happily given him her virginity. He’d known all the right things to do to a woman in all the right ways, and he’d made what could have been an awkward and uncomfortable experience a beautiful one. He’d touched, kissed, and caressed her. He’d used his mouth on her down there, and genuinely seemed to have enjoyed it, and hadn’t even demanded that she do the same in return. Although, she had voluntarily, later on, and very much enjoyed herself, even if he was something of a tough pill to swallow in his hugeness, so to speak.
At any rate, the months that Kyle and Eileen spent together seemed like heaven on earth. It was like an extended honeymoon, the pleasure and ecstasy they enjoyed with one another too sweet for words. It was, Eileen thought, just what she needed then. Someone to love her, genuinely. To save her from her grief and her loss of so much, and make her feel whole and wanted again, after having been cast out so hopelessly into the world.
But it hadn’t lasted as long as she might have hoped. In the end it was the farm that ended up getting in-between the two of them.
Things had been getting serious, and they had to begin asking themselves hard questions that they’d otherwise been putting off for the months that they’d been together. But once under scrutiny their relationship proved incapable of surviving for all that long.
Kyle confessed detesting the idea of living out in the middle of nowhere with her, fighting for a lost cause. In some ways she knew he was right. He wasn’t blinded by the same sense of red-lensed nostalgia as she was, and let her know quite clearly that she was fooling herself thinking that she could save it. Eileen knew damn well she was fighting a losing battle, but it was the last thing she wanted to hear.