by Cara Bristol
Chapter Fifteen
Toni
I’d just managed to concentrate when Candi buzzed me. She’d been instructed to hold my calls, except for a few key ones, but she hadn’t yet figured out the phone system or the priority list, and she got everything mixed up. I’d missed one important call, while a scam artist offering to fix my computer and inquiries that should have been passed to Megan later had been sent through. With a sigh, I pressed the button. “Yes?”
“Security? We have a code fourteen in Ms. Sutterman’s office.”
“Candi, this is Ms. Sutterman.”
“Ms. Sutterman? What are you doing in security? How did you get by without me noticing?”
I bit my tongue. It wouldn’t be hard. “I’m not in security, Candi. I’m still in my office. Why are you calling them? What’s going on?”
“A man named Con is demanding to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment—I checked your schedule—but he won’t leave.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as if that would prevent the walk-in standing next to her desk from hearing. “He’s…an extraterrestrial. He claims the Intergalactic Dating Agency sent him, and he’s your mate.”
No.
No. No. No.
What could Jessie be thinking to send another match? After Aton’s arrest, she’d been one of the first people I’d called for help. She knew the truth. Maridelle had even spoken with her. I was in no state of mind to date—not now, maybe not ever. My heart belonged to Aton. If by some slim chance, I got over him and did desire a relationship, it wouldn’t be with an alien. It would be too painful.
“What should I do?” Candi whispered. “He won’t go away.”
I should have had Megan cancel her appointment. She could have handled this without my involvement—no, I should have gone home. It was crazy to attempt to work today, stupid to think I could.
No way was I going out there to see my “date.” I’d break down. The similarity to how I’d met Aton would shred already-raw emotions.
“Don’t call security just yet. Let me make a call first.”
Jessie answered on the first ring. Pain and loss razor-sharp, I skipped the preambles. “What the hell is going on? There’s a guy in my reception room claiming he’s from the IDA.”
“Yes—Con,” she said cheerfully.
“Excuse me, but have you lost your mind? Immigration deported Aton this morning! I want you to get that man out of my office, delete my profile, close my account, and remove my name from the system.”
“You should meet him. He’s Dakonian. You and he are a 100 percent match.”
It felt like she’d driven a knife through my heart. I had one perfect match, and he was gone. “I don’t care. Send him away.”
“You’re going to have to tell him yourself. Just meet him, and if you don’t like him, tell him there’s been a mistake. Then I’ll delete you from the system.”
“Fine!” I slammed down the phone.
I stomped to my office door and flung it open.
Wearing dark blue jeans so new they were stiff, a gray pullover, and sneakers, a Dakonian with the cutest damn horns flashed a huge smile. “I’m Con,” Aton said. “The Intergalactic Dating Agency sent me. I’m your mate.”
I screamed. Laughing and crying, I threw myself at him. “Oh god, oh god, god. It’s you. Oh god, it’s you. What happened? How did you get here? I thought they had deported you.”
He started to answer, but I planted my mouth to his in an exuberant kiss.
I ran my hands over his cheeks, his head, his shoulders. He hugged me, his strong arms enfolding me in an embrace I’d been certain I’d never experience again. “How did you get here? Why are you calling yourself Con?”
Aton cleared his throat and motioned with his head toward the desk.
Candi played with a lock of purple hair and stared unabashedly.
“Why don’t you take a break? There’s a café on the second floor,” I suggested. “No—on second thought, call it a day. Go home.” I intended to. Screw work.
“I’m supposed to stay for the entire afternoon. I won’t get paid otherwise.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll see that you get paid.”
“All right, then!” She grabbed a sparkly backpack from the drawer. “It was nice working for you, Ms. Sutterman.” She popped a wad of gum into her mouth and skipped out.
“Oh, Aton!” I squeezed him tight. “How did you get out? I tried to get you released, but immigration wouldn’t even tell me where they were keeping you.”
He shuffled us to the leather sofa, sank onto it, and pulled me onto his lap. “They warded me, but kept moving me from place to place. Then, early this morning, they let me go.” He fused his mouth to mine, and I abandoned myself to his kiss. I roved my hands over him, making sure he was solid, and I wasn’t dreaming. I hammered his chest with my closed fist.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure you’re real.”
“My mate,” he growled. “This is real.”
I kissed him, and our tongues met, dancing to the music of our singing hearts. He slid his hands under my blouse, and my bra gave way to his questing fingers. He smoothed his palms over my back before fondling my breasts.
I needed skin against skin. “Get rid of this.” I tugged at his shirt before rolling off his lap. He shucked out of his clothes. Still no underwear. I grinned and divested myself of my clothing. Naked, we hugged, and it was the purest form of bliss. Tears of joy slid down my cheeks.
We sank onto the sofa again. I’m not a clingy person, but I curled up in his lap and clung to him like a limpet to a rock. Questions needed to be answered, but for the moment the urge to hold him, touch him, superseded all else.
Our lips met in a searing, wet, no-holds-barred series of kisses. “I thought”—kiss—“I’d never”—smooch—“ see you”—smack—“again.”
He shifted me onto the leather so we lay face-to-face. He gazed at me, wide-eyed but lustful, as if memorizing everything he touched: my face, my throat, my breasts, my abdomen, ah…between my legs.
I roved my hands over his body, reacquainting myself with everything I’d nearly lost: those sexy, pulsing horns, that rough, but sweet face and velvet lips, his chest, so smooth and muscular, rippling abs, and his erection, thick, hard, weeping for me. I swirled my thumb over the head, and he sucked in his breath.
We kissed and caressed and stroked until coupling could no longer be delayed. We joined together then, bodies merging, moving as one, as we were meant to be. When the orgasm came, it was electric and hot, and so sweet, I dissolved into tears.
Aton kissed them away until all that remained was the love prompting them.
We cuddled on my waiting room sofa, naked and replete. Lazily, I stroked his chest and sighed. “I should get dressed. The door isn’t locked. I’m not expecting anyone, but somebody could walk in.”
“Like Maridelle. She’s coming up.”
“What?” I lifted my head.
“Your friend said she’d give us a few moments to be alone before she came up to talk to you.”
“You mean now?”
“After she parks the car.”
I sprang up. We were bare-assed naked, and the room reeked of sex. “Aton, get dressed.” I fanned the air with his shirt and jeans before throwing them at him and scrambling into my own clothes.
I’d just finished buttoning my blouse when the door opened, and Maridelle entered.
My face flamed, and I brushed a hand over my head to smooth my hair.
She grinned. “I might have cut the timing a tad short. I see you met Con.”
Yes, Con. What was with the name? I’d been so preoccupied with the reunion, I’d forgotten everything else. Like how had Maridelle secured his release? “How did you get him out?”
She shrugged and plopped into a chair. “Hard to believe, but sometimes government screws up. Turned out to be a case of mistaken identity. When immigration lear
ned they had arrested Con—who has permanent resident alien status and documentation to prove it—instead of Aton, who apparently never left Dakon, well, they had no option but to release him.”
“Your name is Con?” No matter what his name, he was still the same person I’d fallen in love with, so it didn’t matter, but it seemed odd.
“Says so right here.” He pulled an ID card from his shirt.
I squinted at it, trying to comprehend. I handed it back and sank onto the sofa. I had a feeling Maridelle had a lot more to say. I patted the seat beside me, and Aton, er, Con settled in next to me, hip to hip.
“I have to admit, I’d started to sweat,” Maridelle said. “The ’Net was down on Dakon because of the blizzard. I was afraid Andrea wouldn’t get the message or wouldn’t be able to transmit Con’s documents to immigration before they put him on the ship. But she did, and when they checked his identity against the deportation manifest, they discovered they had an innocent man in custody.”
“Wait a minute.” I frowned. “Permanent resident status docs can only be issued by immigration. I don’t see what Andrea could do...oh…
“She hacked into the system?” I finally caught on.
“In private, you can call Con anything you want. Fred, honeybuns, my little pumpkin, or even Aton, if you prefer. In public, stick to his legally recognized name, Con.”
Legally recognized, but not actually legal because nothing Maridelle had arranged through Andrea was legitimate. Now I understood her caginess and advisement against going public with my problem. We couldn’t have passed off Aton as Con if people had heard his story. Andrea could erase and plant computer records, but she couldn’t wipe human memories.
“Maridelle says we have to protect my new identity,” Aton said.
How ironic his new name was Con, considering that’s what we were pulling. Did Maridelle realize? “I’m wondering about the name…”
“Andrea has a sense of humor. I kind of wish she didn’t, but Con’s credentials are rock-solid, unimpeachable.”
“I can’t thank you enough.” I clasped my hands. “I owe you and Andrea so much.” I remembered Maridelle telling me legally she’d done all she could. She’d gone above and beyond; she’d broken the law for us.
Her mouth twitched. “Wait till you get my bill.”
“What about Andrea? How can I repay her?”
“For Andrea, success is its own reward. She’s not in it for the money, but for the thrill and as a way to settle some scores. She was in the original group of women in the Terra Dakon Goodwill Exchange Program.”
So, she had a criminal history. When the program first started, Earth had shipped its convicted female felons to Dakon. When the news went viral, they’d been forced to stop, so the program had been refashioned as a more traditional mail-order-brides program. “Let me guess—Andrea’s conviction was for computer hacking.”
“She was the best in the world.”
“If she could work miracles for At—Con, why not work one for herself and come back?”
“Because she’s happy there. She has a Dakonian mate—and she’s out of reach of Earth authorities.”
“What about you?” I still couldn’t believe what my attorney friend had done for me. “Why?”
“As I told you, I exhausted every single legal maneuver first. You know as well as I do that often justice doesn’t prevail.”
No, it didn’t. Sometimes people didn’t get what they deserved. I won a lot of personal injury cases for my clients, but I’d lost some, too. In my practice, I could pick and choose who to represent, but when I’d first started with Phillip’s law firm, cases had been assigned to me. I wish I’d always fought on the side of moral right, but that wasn’t true. I’d won a lot of cases I’d secretly hoped I’d lose.
In criminal law, innocent people got convicted. Guilty ones went free. Some people received harsher sentences than others for the same crime. Accusations, even if proven false, ruined people’s lives.
“With aliens from across the galaxy pouring in, there’s a growing need for immigration attorneys specializing in extraterrestrial law. It’s been a sideline for me, but after your case, I’m going to devote myself to it full-time,” Maridelle said. “The legal system hasn’t caught up to the new reality. The law is still based on old rules, when alien meant foreigner, a person from another country. The law hasn’t accounted for nonhumans. That’s part of the complexity, but Con’s case was the most challenging one I’ve worked on. It still puzzles me how hard-assed they were.”
“Phillip caused that,” I said. “He used his connections to exact revenge.” I sighed. “He showed up this morning. Security came. Tasered him. He’s going to be really pissed now.” I sighed.
“He came to visit me,” Aton said.
“What?” My head snapped up.
“He pretended he wanted to represent me and said he could get me freed if I would give him information.”
Maridelle and I exchanged a grim glance. “What kind of information?” I asked.
“How I had gotten here, if and when you learned I didn’t have a visa, if you had assisted me in any way.”
“He won’t rest until he finds a way to destroy me,” I said.
“He needs to be neutralized,” Maridelle said.
I pressed a hand to my throat. That couldn’t be what it sounded like… “You’re not talking about…killing him.” I shook my head. “I can’t be a party to that.” I could swerve around the rules, bend the rules, wad them up, and stomp them flat, but I couldn’t have somebody killed.
Maridelle twisted her mouth. “You’d think that of me? Of course, I wouldn’t have him killed!” Then, she threw her head back and laughed. “But after Andrea gets done messing with him, he might wish we’d ordered a hit.”
She got to her feet. “You’ve had a grueling day, and I’m sure you and Con want to talk some more, so I’ll be on my way.” She hugged me. “I’m so glad everything worked out.”
“I can’t ever thank you enough.”
“Me, either,” Aton said.
Maridelle left.
Aton and I clutched each other. We’d been through hell this past week, but the tribulations had made me appreciate my alien mate all the more. Now, we just had to live our lives. I peered up at him. “Let’s go home.”
Epilogue
Aton
Two months later
“The pizza will be here in thirty minutes,” my mate said. “You don’t mind staying in and watching TV?”
“Are you kidding?” Toni and I often went out with friends—Maridelle, Rojak and his mate, Kyra, or Lexi and Darak—and I enjoyed their company, but my favorite times were when we were alone. It didn’t matter what we did; being with her filled me with contentment.
I patted the sofa cushion, and she kicked her shoes off and settled next to me. “What a week! I’m so glad it’s Friday,” she said. “How was your day?”
“First things first.” I kissed her, a long, lingering one to demonstrate how much I loved her, how much I missed her every second we were apart. She stroked my horns, and a hot shaft of need blazed through me. I growled and nipped at her lip. “Unless you want to shock the delivery man, you shouldn’t do that.”
She giggled. “Okay…I’ll be good—until the food gets here.” She tilted her head. “So, give me something to focus on besides jumping your bones. How was work?”
“I referred two more people to Maridelle.”
“That’s five this week,” she commented with a sigh. “It appears as though her predictions were correct. More and more aliens are running afoul of Extraterrestrial Immigration.”
“When I first started bartending at the Stellar Dust Bin, I’d hear about one to two cases a week. It has increased, but I don’t know if it’s because people have come to trust me with their stories, or if immigration is policing more.”
“Probably both.”
I’d needed something to oc
cupy myself while Toni worked, so I’d gotten hired at the bar where I’d met Rojak. I mixed drinks for people and listened to their stories. The ones who were having difficulties with the law, I referred to Maridelle.
After the close call Toni and I had had, I was sympathetic to the plight of my fellow extraterrestrials. They’d come searching for love and a new life, but it didn’t always go smoothly for them. Thanks to Maridelle and Andrea, Toni and I had been fortunate. My Earth citizenship had been finalized, and nobody could question my right to be here.
“No problems with Phillip?” I asked.
“Just the usual.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Maridelle called the other day to confirm I still wanted to proceed with the plan to neutralize his influence. I told her I did. He’s bad news—let’s talk about something more cheerful.”
“How about how much I love you?”
“Oh, that’s a good topic.” She grinned, and then her eyes got serious. She stroked my cheek. “I love you, too. So much.” Her gaze slid over my body. “I should have waited to order the food.”
My horns throbbed. “Just so you know, you’ll be eating cold pizza.”
“Just the way I like it.” She leered at me. “How about a little TV while we wait?”
“Good idea.” I watched a lot of television and movies; they helped me to learn Earth customs and colloquialisms. I grabbed the remote and flipped to Terran News Network. Reporters and camera operators swarmed around a handcuffed man being led away by police. He bowed his head, averting it from the media.
Toni jackknifed. “Oh my god! That’s Phillip! Turn the sound up!”
I cranked the volume.
“After a two-month investigation, authorities today arrested New Los Angeles attorney Phillip Edward Markham IV on charges of extraterrestrial trafficking,” the newscaster said. “Markham has been a vocal opponent of alien immigration.”
The video switched to another man descending the steps outside a building I recognized as the courthouse. News crews surrounded him, too. “My client categorically denies all the charges.” The man kept walking as he spoke.
