by Tracy Lauren
“I’ve still got a little time,” I whisper.
And with that, he presses me up against the shower wall. I brace myself and my breasts smash into the cold tiles, but inside I’m on fire. My heart pounds as Dorran’s strong hands rake down my sides. I whimper in anticipation, spreading my legs for him. I close my eyes, not knowing what to expect…but open for anything.
Those hands, those strong hands, they massage my ass and spread my cheeks wide. I arch my back, practically trembling. The air is ripped from my lungs when Dorran presses a kiss to one cheek. He rumbles something appreciative and his thumbs force my butt cheeks open, then he dives in—his tongue tracing me from my core all the way to the top of my ass crack. I practically scream and my knees grow weak. But Dorran holds me up so he can devour me. His tongue hungry and wild—touching me everywhere, leaving no part of me untasted.
His ferocity, his desire, it’s consuming. And in this moment I am his. All his. He could have me any way he wants me and I’d just scream my pleasure. That’s where I’m at when he pumps a thick finger into my pussy. I let that scream tear from my throat and press back against him. His tongue doesn’t let up. I’m writhing, riding him, giving in to this lust-fueled interlude, my pleasure coiling so fast I think I could cum. His tongue rims me. I’m seeing stars. Just a few more firm thrusts of his digits into my body and…
“Oh, fuck! Dorran, I’m cumming!”
I spasm around him and Dorran keeps pumping until I’m done. When he pulls his hand free he dips his tongue in one last time to lap up my arousal. I’m about to melt down the side of the shower wall, but Dorran keeps me on my feet with one muscled arm.
He reaches over and shuts off the shower before grabbing a towel from the rack. Wordlessly, he proceeds to dry me off. Ugh! Okay, I am melting. I love being babied like this, cared for so tenderly. When he’s done I let my eyes fall shut, I lean forward, parting my lips and waiting for a kiss. I get a firm slap to my ass instead.
“Get to work, my precious alien. The sooner you start the day the sooner you can come home to me.”
My eyes go wide. I’m awake and laughing again. “And the sooner you can comm your friend and tell him all about my breasts?”
Dorran’s eyes are cocky and mischievous. “I have a lot more than your breasts to tell him about at this point.”
“And what are we going to do when I get home?”
“I should hope it’s obvious.”
I bite my lip, thinking of his double barrels. “Sex?”
Dorran tilts his head to the side as he stares at my mouth. “I’m going to pursue you, Carly.”
His lips touch mine. I can taste him. I can smell him. I can feel his softness, his roughness, his strength—and I just want to fall into all of it…get lost. I don’t want to think about what it means to dive in. About the consequences. The seriousness of it. But for Dorran this is serious. Because he’s looking for his happily ever after.
Chapter 22
Carly
I’m lost in my thoughts as I hurry to class; it’s just muscle memory that gets me through the halls. I’m so caught up in my intense feelings for Dorran I can hardly think straight. All this, it’s too sudden, I tell myself. (That’s the logical, scientist part of me speaking). But my heart isn’t listening. It’s just pounding. What would it even mean to let Dorran pursue me? Is that equivalent to accepting a marriage proposal? And that I can’t do. I mean, I’ve sacrificed so much to follow this dream of teaching in Santa Barbara. I mean, Shawn… I thought he was going to be the one. But when it came down to it, picking between him and my dream? I’d have never picked him. And that’s the kind of girl I am, isn’t it? Not willing to sacrifice my hard work and goals? Not for anything…
Still, I just can’t shake this feeling. What’s going on between Dorran and me…it’s magnetic. I don’t know if I could stop the pull even if I tried.
Subconsciously, my hand seeks out my phone. I need to talk to Sarah. But what can I even tell her? How can I explain this without giving her the details? I look down at the screen and sure enough…I’ve got seven missed texts from her. And that’s when I crash into Principal Montgomery.
“Oh! Mr. Montgomery!” I cry. “I’m so sorry! My mind was elsewhere!”
“No worries, Carly. I’m actually glad to see you this morning.” Mr. Montgomery looks in both directions down the halls before ushering me into the teacher’s lounge with him.
“I have something I wanted to tell you,” he says in a whisper.
I lean in, eyes wide, and whisper right back…even though I have no idea why it is we’re whispering. “What did you want to tell me?”
“Now it isn’t official yet, so I trust you won’t say anything, but Margery is going to be retiring by the end of the school year.”
“Margery?!” I gasp. “I thought she had another three years in her!”
Principal Montgomery shakes his head. “Her daughter, up in Roseville? Six months pregnant with twins. Asked Margery to move in and help out with the babies.”
My head’s spinning. A position for a science teacher is opening up? This is what I’ve been waiting for, but there’s no guarantee I’ll get it. There are going to be over a hundred applicants, I’m sure. Principal Montgomery can read the rollercoaster of emotions on my face and he puts a fatherly hand on my shoulder.
“Now, I’m rooting for you, Carly, but it’s up to the board to do the hiring.”
“Yes, Mr. Montgomery. I know.” My hand is on my forehead, trying to slow my racing thoughts.
“We know you here at SBMS, you have a great reputation with the students and with the staff as well. But the board, they’re going to see a lot of faces once interviewing begins.”
My heart drops. Is this impossible? Will all this work and dedication be for nothing?
“So I had this thought…”
“A thought?” I echo, feeling fairly incapable of thought at the moment.
“There’s the science expo this weekend.”
“Yes, I was planning on stopping by to see the kids’ projects.”
“Well how about you plan on presenting an experiment—something interactive with the students? The board is going to be there, judging the science fair. But if they see you, if you stand out, it might make a lasting impression.”
I suck in a gasp. “You’d let me do that?”
“Absolutely Carly, you are part of the SBMS family—you deserve to have a permanent home here.”
Tears well in my eyes and Mr. Montgomery smiles, giving me a reassuring side hug. “Thank you, Mr. Montgomery!” I try not to wail my gratitude. The first bell rings and Mr. Montgomery leads me back out into the hall.
“Now, it’s no guarantee, Carly. But it’s the best shot I can give to let the board see you shine.”
“I won’t disappoint you!” I promise.
And the rest of the day I’m fucked. My mind’s even more of a mess than it was the day I discovered there were aliens on Earth…which was just yesterday. Between Dorran and this, I think my brain might explode.
Chapter 23
Dorran
“I am in love,” I tell Regor.
“With the lesbian?”
“Not a lesbian.”
“How does she feel about you?”
I give my friend a cocky smirk. “How do you think she feels about me?”
Regor gives me an unimpressed appraisal. “I think she might have second thoughts about the whole lesbian thing.”
“You cannot bring me down today, Regor. Carly and I are a sure thing. I can feel it in my bones. Fate has had the wheel this entire time—right from the very start. If I’d have come a day earlier, she’d not have had a room for me. If I’d have come a day late, she’d have found a different roommate and we’d have never met.”
“I think you are describing chance—not fate.”
“You joke, but you will be the first to toast me at my wedding. I’d start working on that speech now if I were you.”
R
egor lets a smile break and leans back in his seat. “I am happy for you, brother. And if you have found your mate this quickly, then I must agree. What else can it be but fate?”
“That’s more like it.”
“So what now?”
“With Carly and me?” I shrug. “The usual, I suppose. Courting, love making, enjoying each other’s company until it is time for me to bring her back home for the ceremony.”
“And after the ceremony?”
“Oh, I suppose that Carly and I will have to work that out—she is very passionate about her profession. We’ll likely need to keep a home here.”
“It’s going to be a long commute to your job.”
I snort. “What the fuck do I care? I’ve got my mate, Regor—that is all that matters.”
We chat a little longer, until Regor is tired of hearing about Carly, and then I decide to prepare the apartment for when my love returns home. Taking Sarah’s advice once more, I set out candles and wine and pull the curtains closed to create a softer ambiance—one more conducive to courting. It feels good to move about the apartment without my disguise, natural even. So much so that I happen to forget all about it.
The clock in the kitchen points to three. That means Carly will be home soon. And when there is a knock at the door I am overeager—thinking it must be my mate. I do not consider the fact that Carly has a key and therefore has no cause to knock.
When I swing the door wide I am not met with the youthful beauty of my mate, but with the wrinkled glower of the angry Mrs. Doherty. Of course…it only starts as an angry glower, but it very quickly shifts into wide-eyed fear. I immediately realize my error in judgment and my mouth moves to form an explanation, but nothing comes out. Especially not when the old woman lets out a scream loud enough to pierce eardrums. I flinch away from her, but the sudden movement causes her fight or flight to kick in and she’s scrambling down the stairs.
She’s a frail old thing, if I ever saw one, and to see her make such a mad dash down the stairs frightens me. I can easily imagine her falling and getting hurt. So, I pursue her, muttering cautious warnings and trying to catch up, if only to assist her down the steps. But I fear that from her perspective, any move in her direction is a move in the wrong direction. She regards my pursuit with wild and terrified eyes before her wordless scream turns into pleas for help. “I’M BEING CHASED!” she wails. “CALL THE POLICE!”
I cringe. This is turning into quite the debacle. Mrs. Doherty stumbles on the final step and I reach out and support her just in time. But to her, my touch might as well be a sure and painful death. All the same, I help her to the bottom safely and set her square on her feet before I turn and make a mad dash up the steps.
People are starting to rush out, but their eyes are on the wailing Mrs. Doherty and I’m able to duck inside the apartment and rush into the bathroom. I need to get my disguise on before the next knock on the door, or surely there are going to be some serious consequences.
Chapter 24
Carly
I’m nerves and excitement and all different kinds of warring emotions as I practically jog home from work. I can’t wait to tell Dorran the news. This job at the school? It’s as good as mine. Principal Montgomery loves me. He’s offered me this stellar opportunity of presenting and interacting with the kids in front of the school board. I’m a shoo-in. Unless I make some kind of horrible, irreparable mistake at the science expo. Which is unthinkable! I laugh to myself…wondering if I should knock on wood?
When I turn the corner, I can see my building. I imagined the sight would make the urge to run the rest of the way even greater. Hell, I could practically float there. But instead, the sight fills me with dread. Wait…no. It does make me want to run. Or apparently so, because without even thinking, I’m hauling ass down the street, terrified of what could be going on. The building is surrounded with police. Odds are that it’s anything. But something in me says it isn’t anything. My gut says it’s Dorran.
“Whoa, slow down there, miss,” a police officer tells me. He’s standing in front of the stairs leading up to my apartment.
“That’s my place,” I insist. I look up the stairs and see Dorran in the doorway, speaking with another cop. He’s disguised, thank God. “What’s going on here? Did something happen to my roommate? Is he okay?” I demand to know.
The officer casts a glance toward the police cars, their sirens are silent but the lights are on, blinking and rotating, giving off a worrisome air. And that’s when I see her—Mrs. Nosey-as-fuck-can’t-mind-her-own-business Doherty. And for all that it’s nearly 80 degrees out, she’s wrapped in a blanket and sobbing.
The officer looks like he has a lot to say, but all that comes out of his mouth is, “Can I see your ID?”
I hurry to dig in my bag, fishing out my wallet. “Can I go up to my place and check on my roommate?”
“Just need to confirm this is indeed your place.”
I show him my ID and he gives me the okay, then I’m glaring at Mrs. Doherty as I sprint up the stairs.
“Dorran! Are you okay?” I ask. “What happened?”
The police officer standing with Dorran fills me in. “Seems your elderly neighbor had a bit of a scare. Said she came up here to make a noise complaint—”
I gasp in disgust. “A noise complaint!? In the middle of the day? Is there anyone else who claimed they heard anything coming from our apartment? Mrs. Doherty doesn’t even live in an adjoining unit!”
The officer nods. “There were no corroborators with that claim,” he assures. “Nor the next one.”
I look at Dorran, who stands there stoically, with his arms crossed over his chest. He does not look pleased.
“Your neighbor insists that when she came to the door a purple man answered it and began to chase her.”
My mouth falls open. While I know a certain purple man, I sincerely doubt he would chase Mrs. Doherty.
“Mrs. Doherty started to run down the steps,” Dorran adds, finally speaking. “She was hysterical and I thought she might fall, so I helped her down. She did not wish for my assistance, but I couldn’t trust that she would make it down safely. So, in the strictest sense, I did pursue her.”
I look to the police officer, worried about Dorran admitting such a thing in front of law enforcement. But the policeman seems to conclude that Dorran’s concern was warranted. After all, we can still hear Mrs. Doherty wailing from downstairs and she certainly does sound hysterical.
“As far as the noise she wished to complain about, I have no idea what it could have been. I was just setting out candles and pouring wine in anticipation of you coming home,” Dorran says.
The police officer nods toward my front door, which is still ajar. It’s dark in there, with the curtains closed. “We think Dorran here was just standing in the shadows and it gave Mrs. Doherty a fright.”
“Well that’s a shame, but it hardly seems that answering the door is a crime. Can my roommate go about his business, or is he in some kind of trouble?”
“No, no trouble, miss. We were just taking our time here so your neighbor could calm down a bit—maybe seeing Dorran here in the sunlight might help her realize her error? Otherwise we’ll need to take her in for a psych eval.”
“Oh.” That’s sobering. I meet Dorran’s eyes and now I understand his grim expression. “No, I’m sure that isn’t necessary.” I put my hand on Dorran’s arm to offer him comfort. “Can I go talk with her?”
“If you think you can get her to calm down,” the officer tells me. “Because if she can’t, we are going to have to take her in, and attempts to contact her family have been unsuccessful.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Shakily, I make my way down the steps. There’s an officer with Mrs. Doherty, but he looks far past his compassion quota for the day. I offer the man a tentative smile and relief washes over him as he backs away, giving me room to take over. When Mrs. Doherty sees me though…she doesn’t exactly seem soothed by my presence.
I think of all the things I might say. Of how to explain away what she saw or make her question herself. But the main thing here is to get her to calm down. I don’t like the old woman, but I don’t want her to spend the night all alone in a hospital just because she caught an eyeful of Dorran without his disguise on.
So, I settle on the only thing I know is sure-fire comfort. A hug.
Mrs. Doherty resists at first, but only for a token second. Then, she’s clinging to me and letting her tears flow. I pat her boney spine and coo calming things until her tears dry up. “You have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Doherty. Let’s get you back to your apartment where you can get some rest. I’m sure this has been really hard on you.”
The old woman mutters at me ungratefully. “The other girl was so much less trouble. Too bad it isn’t Susan who still lives here.”
“Sarah,” I correct drily. And that’s not senility creeping in. That’s Mrs. Doherty being an old sourpuss.
An officer and I walk Mrs. Doherty to her door and everyone seems to let out a sigh of relief once she’s safely inside.
Eager to check in with Dorran, I hurry to the stairs in time to see him shaking hands with the officer. It’s one of those complex, bro handshakes that apparently they teach all males, even alien ones, because he doesn’t miss a beat. Dude eats floral centerpieces, but a handshake he can do with ease. I rush up the steps, wanting to embrace him, but he tugs me inside and shuts the door.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my hands on his face, tilting his chin so he looks me in the eyes.
“That could have been very bad, Carly.”
“To be fair, Mrs. Doherty needed to be taught a lesson—that woman is always sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Dorran frowns. “She could have gotten into trouble. I could have gotten her into trouble.”
“Don’t you beat yourself up about it,” I insist. “Trouble comes to those who are looking for it. And you and I both know Mrs. Doherty wasn’t up here to complain about any noise.”
