Tek

How to Marry an Alien

Michele Bardsley

Copyright © 2017 by Michele Bardsley

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement from the author of this work.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatever to anyone bearing the same name or names. All incidents are pure invention.

These stories are meant for mature audiences who are eighteen years and older.

Created with Vellum

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Vrek

About the Author

One

Mary Jeanne Wolmack stared at her apartment door and wept.

These were not tears of sweet longing, harbored hope, or romantic sorrow.

Her weeping was ugly, messy and loud. Sobs of complete, utter despair racked her body until she shuddered violently, feeling like Jell-O in an earthquake.

A door opened down the hallway. “Shaddap, will ya? Wives with Knives is on and I can’t hear who’s stabbing who!”

“S-s-sorry, Mrs. W-W-Wiesman.” Mary wiped her runny nose on the torn, muddied sleeve of her new black blazer.

The door slammed shut again.

Mary sucked in breaths, but couldn’t stop blubbering. Earlier, when her car had died—she’d coasted onto the gravel shoulder. No amount of cajoling, staring at the engine, or banging her head against the steering wheel could bring the old beast back to life again. She grabbed her purse and got out, kicking the hunk and stubbing her toe. Foot throbbing, she started walking the last mile home.

And that’s when the rain had started—if a torrential downpour could be classified as rain. The mud painting her body and dripping from her hair was courtesy of a Hummer that had veered too close to the curb and spun through a large puddle. The ripped shirt—her favorite purple and hunter green shift—was thanks to a chain-link fence she’d run into when she’d barely managed to dodge two laughing teenaged boys on bicycles playing “sidewalk chicken” with the wet, angry, thin-challenged woman.

Finally, Mary had trudged inside her building, up two flights of stairs, broke a heel off one of her sensible black pumps as she dragged her sorry self across the hall. Now, she stood forlornly in the hallway because her key had broken in the lock.

“Fuck!” She kicked at the door, and her pump with the broken heel flew off her foot. Her toes, the same she’d stubbed on the stupid car, throbbed in pain. Okay. Okay. Calm down. Breathe. She inhaled a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

“Mary?”

Her attempt to find some goddamned Zen turned into unfiltered horror. Oh, God. Not him. Not now. The Great and Gorgeous Trent Adams, the demigod of lust who’d moved across the hall two weeks ago, had arrived to witness her fall from grace—admittedly, a short trip. He was really tall, at least six and half feet, and really, really buff—his body reminded her of The Rock. He wore his black hair shoulder-length and loose. It was sexy as hell, but not exactly business-like—unless he was a gigolo.

She turned and offered him a quivering smile. He held out her shoe and she took it from him. “Thanks,” she said. “It’s been a really shitty day.”

“I am sorry to hear this. Do you need assistance?” he asked.

“No, thank you. I’m fine. Nothing to assist. You can…uh, go.” Shoo, demigod. Go on, shoo.

“I cannot leave you in distress.”

He had such an odd, formal way of speaking. She couldn’t place his accent—almost French, almost Scottish. They’d never conversed for long. Honestly, he gave her such complete attention, his stare almost unblinking, that his manner both thrilled her and freaked her out. Plus, hormones whirred like buzzing bees anytime she was near the man, and they drowned out her common sense. So, she always did the adult thing: ran away like a chicken on crack.

“Please go away,” she said. “I’m…I’m…thinking.” More like stinking, she thought, at life.

“This is how hu—er, women engage in cogitation?”

Startled by his geek-speak, she laughed. She looked at him. Her face felt swollen, her eyes ached, and her body felt beaten and bruised. “What are you, a lawyer?”

“No.”

“Scientist?”

“No.”

“Professor?”

“No, Mary.” Distress filled his gray-green eyes. “You are unwell?”

“Um, no. I’m tired, that’s all.” Mary sneezed as if to prove what a liar she was. Crap. The walk home in the rain had taken its toll, and she could feel a common cold creeping up on her by the second.

Trent’s gaze fell to her lips, and his gaze darkened. When he lifted his eyes to hers, she felt zapped by lust lightning. The air between them felt electrified and Trent stepped forward, his intent clear.

He wanted to kiss her! Nope. Nope. Nope.

Mary had had enough insanity today, thank you. She clutched her purse, keeping it between her and her hunky neighbor, waved good-bye, and squelched past his rock hard abs. She felt a light touch on her elbow. She looked at him over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“You are unable to get into your living quarters?”

“Key broke in the lock.”

“I offer my abode to you. You will rest there, and I will fix the door for you.” He grimaced. “This lord of the land does not respond quickly to such problems.”

“Lord of the land?” She grinned. The guy had a sense of humor, which was another point in his favor. Not that he needed points because she’d take him as is right now. He, on the other hand, was a nice guy who probably had a tall, skinny blonde girlfriend who was a Victoria’s Secret model. “Yeah, the landlord is a jerk. But I can take care of it. I just want to get inside, take a long, hot bath, and drink a gallon of merlot.”

“Please, Mary.” To her utter shock, he dropped to his knees and took her dirty, scraped hand into his warm grasp. “Allow me this kindness. I have wanted to spend time with you and have been unable to gain your attention long enough to ask.” He stared at her, yearning in his gaze. “Is it too much too hope that you might find me worthy?”

Wait. What? The most handsome man she’d ever met was on his knees in front of her begging to know if he was worthy of her.

Her mouth gaped open. “Are you serious, dude?”

“The most serious I have ever been.” He frowned. “What is a dude?” His brow arched. “Is this a compliment?”

“Uh…it’s just a generic name for a guy.”

“Generic.” He snorted. “I am not generic. And I am not a dude.”

“Oooooookay.” Wow. He was one taco short of a combo platter. Mary offered him the same kind of smile she would an escaped mental patient. “I’m gonna go now.”

Trent stood up, his hands still cupping hers. “If—if you wish to call me dude, you may do so.” He glared. “But only you. If anyone else dares to say I am a generic dude, I will rip off their arms.”

“That seems rather extreme. What would happen if someone actually insulted you?”

His lips thinned, and he crossed his massively muscular arms. “Impalement.”

“Oh. Yeah. Seems reasonable.” Not. Time to get off this crazy train. Toot. Toot. Mary pulled her hand from his grasp. Then she turned and ran—okay hobbled thanks to wearing one shoe—for the stairs.

The minute her rain-slicked sole hit that first step, she immediately lost her balance and pitched forward.

Tek, crown prince of Kratania, also known as Trent Adams, watched his prophesied mate scuttle away from him as though he were a smelly garnard. Granted, all garnards were smelly. Their gnarled gray skin emitted a toxic stench to keep away predators.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never been around a woman so determined to stay away from him. At home, he had many women who wanted him, but none of them were his true mate.

Mary Wolmack of Earth was meant to be his wife.

But claiming her had turned out to be quite difficult.

“Aaaaah!”

Tek snapped out of his thoughts, and saw Mary flail her arms as she tried to retain her balance. He broke into a run, but he arrived too late to prevent his bride-to-be from tumbling down the stairs.

“Mary!”

Though the Oracle warned him that displaying any of his superior abilities or warrior prowess could lead to trouble with Earth’s authorities, he still launched himself from the top stair and easily made the landing where Mary lay unmoving.

He crouched beside her, heart drumming a fearful beat, and put his hand to her mouth. He felt her breath against his palm and heaved a sigh of relief.

Healers on this planet were barbaric. He knew that from watching what was called “trauma emergency” shows on the television. Humans were wheeled into strange white rooms where other humans pounded on their chests and stuffed tubes down their throats.

He shuddered. He would not submit Mary to such atrocities.

Tek touched the green jewel at the base of his neck and murmured, “Shema.” Open.

A swirl of green light appeared. The rippling shine grew larger and larger until it was as tall and wide as Tek.

He scooped up his mate and stepped through the portal.

“She cannot stay,” said the Oracle as she swept glowing crystals over Mary’s prone form. “She must come to Kratania of her own accord.”

As soon as he stepped into his opulent bedroom on Kratania, he put Mary on his bed and called for the Oracle’s aid. Now, as the elderly woman muttered healing spells to enact the power of the crystals, he wondered if he’d made the wrong choice. Worry crowded into Tek’s heart. Mary looked so pale. He clutched her hand, which felt cold and clammy. “I don’t wish to return her,” said Tek.

The elderly woman chuckled. “Do you want her to respect you?”

“Yes.”

“And, perhaps, love you?”

Tek nodded. He very much wanted Mary’s love.

“Then you have to take her back and woo her.”

“I’m not good at the wooing,” he admitted. “She wouldn’t talk to me no matter how many times I tried to engage her.”

“Well, try again,” said the Oracle. She put the crystals into the carved wooden box and shut the lid. “She is healed. Take her back, Prince Tek. Have faith Geru has chosen well for you.”

Tek venerated the god-goddess that created his world and all that lived upon it. It had long been tradition for Geru to choose mates for the royals. And yet, he’d had to travel to Earth to find his harataya.

“Faith, my prince.” The Oracle patted his shoulder. “Faith.”

Two

Mary awoke in a warm bath filled with pink bubbles. Lit candles rimmed the large tub. The mild scent of vanilla entwined with the spice of sandalwood. Sitting up, she looked at the small table within arm’s reach of the tub. On it sat two fizzing glasses of champagne and—dear God—a twenty-piece box of Godiva’s.

“Am I dead?” she whispered.

“No,” said Trent as he hurried into the bathroom. “I’m sorry! I called in an order to Zio’s. You—you mentioned you liked Italian food.”

He looked so anxious. Why? Because he wanted to please her? Whoa.

His gaze ensnared hers. “I washed you thoroughly and cleaned your clothing. I’ve been watching you, Mary. You wouldn’t have drowned.”

She smiled and nodded. She studied her pruny fingers, and then, as calmly as she could, she asked, “What the fuck is going on?”

Trent looked nonplussed. “I conveyed all there is to know. Would you like me to repeat it?”

“No,” she said. Her heart thudded. Freaking man was trying to seduce her. And he was succeeding. Oh, baby! “I got the gist. You … uh, rescued me, I think. Now I’m in a warm bath surrounded by candles and chocolates and champagne.” She stared at the gold chain around his neck, which was attached to a gorgeous green stone that hovered right below his collarbone. It wasn’t like any gem she’d ever seen. But jewelry was not the issue right now. Her heartbeat tripled as her gaze wandered over all the muscles of his arms and chest and thighs and…oh, my God.

“Why are you naked?” she asked in a strangled voice.

“I would hope to please my lady by joining you.”

“I knew it. I’m dead.”

“Mary, you are not in Illania.”

“Ill-whataya?”

“Heaven.” He waved impatiently. “It is of no matter. Great Geru! I grow weary of these Earth mating rituals.”

She blinked at him. “Mating rituals?” Was Trent an escapee of the local asylum, or worse, was he an undiagnosed, albeit gorgeous, lunatic, so no one would know where to look if, say, she disappeared?

He swallowed heavily then dropped to his knees again. His big, tanned hands grasped the edge of the tub, and his eyes searched hers. “This is not my way. If we were on my planet, I would steal you away and I would kill anyone who tried to keep me from claiming you. You are my harataya.”

“Oh. Well that explains everything, doesn’t it?”

He gave her a panty-melting smile of approval. Christ, or this great Geru he spoke of, why did the nut-job man have to be so beautiful and muscled…and oh mama, what a package.

She sat up as much as she could without thrusting her boobs out of the water, but didn’t pull away. As a social worker for a domestic violence shelter, she knew how to de-escalate a situation, but she’d never dealt with this kind of crazy before. She patted his hands and returned his smile. “Would you get my clothes, please? I need to go home.”

Trent’s demeanor changed from worried supplicant to primal conqueror. His roar of frustration shook the walls. He surged to his feet, plucked Mary from the tub as if she weighed no more than a feather and slung her over his massive shoulder. Water sloshed, putting out the candles. Pink bubbles flew everywhere.

In five strides he’d carried her into the bedroom. He dumped her—naked, wet, and shocked—onto the bed. “You are mine, Mary Jeanne Wolmack. I have traveled all the way from Kratania to claim you. I care not for what the Oracle says about wooing an Earth woman. I have tried the simpering ways of Earth males, and they do not work. You have ignored me,” he held up his index and middle fingers like he was giving her a peace sign, and said with even more frustration, “for two weeks.”

Mary gaped at him. He stood next to the bed, hands on hips, a magnificent barbarian warrior assessing his stolen bride. “I…uh…what?”

“You are so beautiful,” he said, his gaze roving her shivering form. “I have dreamed often of touching you, of taking you. I am tired of pleasuring myself and wasting my seed!”

Panic burbled through her, but she had to admit to some serious thrillage, too. Insane or not, this hunk wanted her. Too bad he was bat-shit crazy.

“You are well-built, my harataya. Your breasts are creamy mounds of pure delight, your thighs, pillows of pleasure, and your buttocks—”

Mary held up a hand, completely embarrassed by his assessment of her assets. “I get it. My body. Yummy. Yummy.” She knew what she looked like, and while she was pleasant enough in clothes, naked, her body could stand a few improvements. Her last boyfriend had actually told her she needed to lose weight and tone up. And that’s why he was her last boyfriend. Could Trent really like her just the way she was?

Trent looked chagrinned, and as if he could read her mind, he said, “It is hard not sing the praises of your bountiful gifts. You are very luscious.” Lust darkened his gaze. “When we return to Kratania, you will make me the envy of my brothers. They will beg to worship at your lovely feet.” He leaned over the bed and lifted her foot to his lips. He placed a kiss on her arch, sending shivers right to her very core.

Trent’s gaze found hers. He gave her a warm, seductive smile. “Do you refuse me?”

“Oh, honey.” She rose up on her elbows. God, he was nuts. And it would be really, really wrong to take advantage of his mental state in order to have her way with his muscled bod. Look at that cock. It’s so huge. Lust heated her belly and she fought to keep her thighs from parting for him. Damn, she wanted Trent. “Unless you can prove you’re an alien, we’re done with the naked.” She sat up. “Clothes, please.”

“This is all you require?” His brows rose in surprise. “Then you will agree to be mine? Come back with me to my planet and be my harataya until our day of joining?

“Um, sure.” As long as harataya had nothing to do with hari-kari, because if by chance this hunky man was on the level, she wanted to live. “And those chocolates. You can’t buy a girl the G Collection and not let her have it.”

His lips tugged into a half-smile. “I am glad you like the chocolates. So, if I prove that I am from Kratania and give you the sweets, you will allow me the honor of ghrata?”

“What is ghrata?”

He frowned, as if trying to figure out how to explain the term. “I use my considerable bedroom prowess to please you.”

Holy cow. Her eyes widened at his proclamation. “Humble much?”

He stared at her for a long moment. “I speak only the truth.”

“Okay then.” Poor, sweet, deluded Trent. There was no way in…uh, Illania he was ravishing her. “If you’re really an alien, I would ghrata the night away with you, babe.”

“Then it is a bargain.” He crawled onto the bed and knelt between her legs. “My name is Tek, and I am the crown prince of Kratania. I took a portal to this world because Geru decreed that you are my mate.”

“Your mate?”

He nodded.

“Nope.” She used her foot to push on Trent’s muscled stomach and he fell back, allowing her room to scoot off the bed. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not an alien, much less a prince. You need therapy and a prescription for Thorazine. I appreciate the bath and the candy and the…er, nudeness. But I’m outta here.” She held out her hand. “Clothes, please.”

The disappointment etched on his face almost made her say, “The hell with it. Ravish me.” Almost.

He got off the bed, went to the dresser, and pulled out the top drawer. He handed her a stack of folded clothes. “I made the lord of the land change your locks.” He handed her a key. “Perhaps…we can converse again?”

“Uh-huh,” said Mary, heading back to the bathroom. She closed the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes.

Holy crap.

After leaving Trent, Mary went into her apartment long enough to throw away her ruined heels and slip on a pair of flats. Then she walked the two blocks to Coffee Junkies.

Mary had befriended the co-owners a couple of years ago when the café first opened. Donna Reynolds was a lot like her in the size department—what Donna called “fluffy.” Her naturally curly blonde hair and sea-blue eyes caused a wee bit of envy in Mary. She had straight brown hair and regular brown eyes and lacked the grace Donna displayed. The other owner of the café was Rochie Williams—an energetic black woman who was relentlessly cheerful and unable to sit down for longer than a minute.

“Hey,” said Donna, studying her face, “You need an extra shot of espresso?”

“How about booze? You got any vodka back there?”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.” She sighed. “Rochie here?”

“Hot yoga. She likes to torture herself.”

“Ugh.”

“Right?” Donna shook her head, smiling. “She just finished Booty Camp. Like she needed a better ass. You can bounce quarters off her heiny.”

Mary laughed as she watched her friend make her favorite drink—mocha with extra whip. She was still trying to process what had happened with Trent. The man thinks he’s an alien. Jay-sus.

“We’ve been slow today,” said Donna. “I’ll make some tea and join you.” She pushed the white coffee cup across the counter. “You look like you need to talk.”

“Thanks,” said Mary. “You’re the best.”

After Donna made her tea and joined Mary at a table near the picture window, Mary let loose. She talked about the car breaking down—and went all the way through to waking up naked in Trent’s bathtub. She skipped the part about him believing he was from another planet and merely went with, “He’s slightly delusional.”

“You think he’s dangerous?”

“I don’t think so.” Mary frowned. “Despite his … er, mental condition, he was a perfect gentlemen.”

“He stripped you naked while you were unconscious. I think you should call the police.”

Mary flinched. She didn’t want to call the cops on Trent. He hadn’t hurt her. He wanted to have sex with her, but didn’t force anything. If he hadn’t blathered on about an imaginary planet and that whole “you’re my mate” thing, she might’ve done the mattress mambo with him.

“You should see this guy,” she said. “He’s like … like, the Rock, Brad Pitt, and Elvis in one package. And he’s got this one little dimple on the left side of his mouth.”

Donna lifted an eyebrow. “Who’s stalking who again?”

“Trust me. You’d drool uncontrollably if you ever saw this guy.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Donna waved her hand as if shooing away anymore Trent talk. “My brother’s a mechanic. I can have him tow your car and see what’s wrong. I’ll get you the friend discount.”

“Don’t I have to be his friend for that?” teased Mary.

Donna grinned. “Okay. I’ll get you the big-sister-says-so discount. That’s a better deal anyway.”

Customers began trickling inside and Donna got busy making drinks. Mary waved goodbye to her friend and slipped away from the café. On the walk home, she couldn’t help but try to analyze the encounter with Trent. Yeah, okay. She should be upset. Probably calling the cops wasn’t a bad idea—but she couldn’t. There was just something about the man that drew her in. He’d been sincere, she was sure of it. Sure, Mary, that’s probably what every murder victim thinks right before getting her head chopped off.

Her heart started to pound as she approached the staircase to her second floor apartment. She looked both ways and then tiptoed to her door. In front of it was a white bag with Zio’s scrawled across it. She didn’t know how Trent had learned she liked Italian food the best, but it was a nice gesture. A note was taped to the bag:

I am sorry I frightened you. I hope to earn your forgiveness. ~Trent.

“She does not want me,” said Tek. He paced around the Oracle’s abode, which was carved inside a Yalla tree. There was barely an inch between his head and the ceiling, not to mention he could be across the circular room in ten strides.

“Ah,” said the Oracle tending the hearth. She sat on an intricately carved bench seemingly unconcerned about his mating problem. “Then you should give up.”

Tek paused, turning to face her. “Give up?” His brow furrowed. “That’s your advice?”

“You did not ask my advice.” She gestured to the bench across from hers. “Sit.”

Only the ancient and venerated Oracle and his parents could get away with ordering him around like a small child. He sat down with a grunt and stared at the leaping flames of the fire. “What am I to do?”

“You could let your parents to choose your bride,” she said. “It is allowed.”

“I would be the first crown prince in seven generations to reject Geru’s mating choice.”

“I remember G’nar the Sour. Both his marriage and his rule did not end well. And neither did his life. It is good that your line is so proficient at breeding. He had four strong sons before he died at his wife’s hands.” She eyed Tek. “He dipped his wick too many times. He didn’t marry his true mate—therefore his heart had no loyalty, no love. What do you feel for Mary?”

“I like her,” said Tek. “She is kind. Her smile lights up the room. She is so beautiful—I want so much to explore those luscious curves. And she smells good. Nothing on Kratania has a scent like hers.” His warrior instincts wanted to conquer now. He sighed. “Are you sure I cannot kidnap her?”

“No, you cannot.” The Oracle chuckled. Then she leaned forward, her gaze kind. “Trust Geru to give you another way to claim your bride.”

Three

Mary stared at the gold box with its delicious contents. She’d found the chocolates in with the Zio’s to-go boxes. She hadn’t debated long about eating the Tek-provided dinner. Salad, lasagna, breadsticks, and even a bottle of merlot—how could she resist? Plus, she’d been starving.

However, the chocolates proved to be more difficult to consume. The beautiful gold box reminded her of nekkid Tek—and that reminded her of his crazy idea that he was an alien—and that made her feel guilty for wanting to eat the chocolates.

She left the box on the kitchen counter and went to get ready for bed. “Not even ten o’clock on a Friday night. Woo hoo,” she muttered. “You’re such a party monster.”

In her master bathroom, she put on a pair of sweats and a worn pink T-shirt, took off her make-up, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair until it shone.

Just as she pulled back the sheets, her cell phone rang. The caller ID said “Celia Brown.” She didn’t recognize the name, but she answered it anyway. The female voice trembled with fear. “Mary?”

She thought she recognized the caller, but had to be certain. “Carlotta?”

“I-I left him,” the woman said.

Mary sat up straight, immediately entering into social worker mode. “Are you safe right now?”

“Yes, I think so.” Carlotta sniffled. “I’m really scared. He said he’d kill me.”

“I know you’re scared, but you’re also brave. Do you hear me, Carlotta? You are brave. You left him. It doesn’t get any ballsier than that. Now you need to take the next step. I can get you into the shelter tonight. Do you have a way to get there?”

“N-no.” Mary could hear the desperation in the battered woman’s voice.

Mary put the phone between her ear and shoulder, shedding her pajamas then began to dress. “Where are you?” She yanked up her jeans as Carlotta gave her the address—a convenience store located in a shady part of town.

“Can you wait inside the store until I get there?” Carlotta’s husband was a persistent bastard. Mary imagined he was driving up and down every street trying to find her.

“Yes,” Carlotta said, her voice steadying. “The lady here let me use her cell phone and she says I can stay. Please hurry.”

Mary hung up and finished putting on her clothes. She shoved her feet into a pair of sandals and called the shelter. Marta, who worked the overnight shift, answered on the first ring.

“I’m bringing in Carlotta Littleton. Can you get a bed ready?”

“Yep. How long until you get here?”

“Within the hour.”

“See you then.”

Mary hurried out the door. She was twisting the key in the lock when she realized she didn’t have her car.

“Shit.” Calling a Lyft ride would take precious time. Urgency beat a tempo in her heart. She didn’t have a choice. She dug around in her purse and retrieved her phone, opening the app to request a ride.

“Mary?”

The baritone voice startled her, and she dropped the phone at her feet. Trent, who stood outside his opened door, his expression one of tender concern, beat her to it. He handed the device back to Mary, his fingers grazing hers, sending electric tingles up her arm.

Of course, he was dressed in a form-fitting T-shirt and tight jeans. The man looked even better in casual wear than he did in the tailored suits. “You are distressed,” he said

She debated roughly two seconds before asking, “Do you have a car?”

“I do not drive the human death machines. But I have a form of transportation I can offer you.”

“It’s okay.” She didn’t have time for his crazy. “I’ll just call a Lyft.”

“How long will this Lyft take?”

“Depends.” She cursed under her breath. “Ten minutes for a Lyft driver to get here—another thirty to get across town. Damn it. I need to get to Carlotta now, not in forty minutes.”

“I can get you there in less than one.”

Mary stared at him. “Let me guess. You have a way to beam me there, Scottie?”

“As I told you, my real name is Tek,” he said. “I can open a portal for you.”

“Bless your heart.” If Mary hadn’t been so worried about Carlotta, she might have felt sorry for the man. He believed so thoroughly in his delusion, it was pitiful. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t have time to waste.”

“Very well.” Tek pulled down the collar of his T-shirt and touched the green gem. “Shema.”

Green light shimmered into a large oval shape. Mary stared at the huge glowing oval and then at the man who’d produced it. “What is that?”

“Your transportation. Do you know where you wish to go?”

“Yes. I’ve been there before, if that’s what you’re asking.” Mary shook her head. “What are you, a magician?”

“I am no mage.”

“Maybe I’m the one cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.” Her phone rang. When Celia Brown’s name popped up, she answered, heart pounding. “Hello? Carlotta?”

“No, this is Celia. Some pissed-off dude grabbed your friend. I called the police, but they’re not here yet.”

Mary felt the color drain from her face. Carlotta’s abusive husband had found her. Abusers were the most dangerous after their partners left the relationship. Carlotta had been secretly attending classes at the shelter, working toward her GED, but she was still reluctant to leave Donnie. Now that Carlotta had actually left, Donnie would make sure he punished her bad enough to scare her into staying. Or even worse, kill her.

“Shit.” The situation was now at DEFCON 1. “Thanks for letting me know,” she said to Celia. Mary shoved the phone in her purse. She didn’t know where Carlotta lived, but she couldn’t be far. She’d probably walked to the store. She glanced at Tek, who looked genuinely worried. “Fine,” she said. Insanity was about to win the day. She waved at the…er, portal. “How does this work?”

“Think of the location in as much detail as you can.”

She did so as Trent took her hand and drew her toward the crazy green light. The next thing she knew she was stepping onto the parking lot of the convenience store with Tek right behind her.

“We’re going to have a long talk about Through the Looking Glass later,” she said.

“Whatever you desire, my Mary.”

“Uh, okay. Stay here, please.” She hurried across the pavement and entered the store.

“Celia? I’m Carlotta’s friend.”

The clerk, a slightly built woman with dull blonde hair and a tired expression, stood behind the counter. She frowned. “How did you get here before the police?”

“I’m a lead foot. Did Carlotta say anything to you? Maybe tell you where she lived?”

Celia shook her head. “She didn’t say much at all. Just asked to use the phone, so I gave her my cell. Then this guy came in, mad as hell, and dragged her out of the store. He had a gun, and he was screaming that he would shoot me. I’m sorry. Best I could do was call nine-one-one.”

“You did good,” reassured Mary. “Did you happen to see a car?”

The clerk shook her head.

“Thank you.” Celia left the store and joined Tek outside. “She didn’t see a car, much less the direction they went.”

“They are not far,” said Tek.

“Yeah? Can you read minds?”

Tek snorted. “Only the Bwaya can do that, and that’s why they live as hermits in the Aleraan desert. I use this—“ He tapped his nose. “—to track down my prey. I can smell the woman’s fear and her captor’s rage.”

“Using your sniffer is your alien superpower?” she asked incredulously.

“Among others,” he said. Pride entered his expression. “I am a warrior of the First Benta.” He puffed out his chest. “Not many wear that title.”

“I don’t know what any of that means, but hey, if you can find her, I’ll…” She trailed off. What the hell did she plan on offering?

“You’ll what?” His eyes gleamed. “Ghrata?” He shook his head. “Never the mind. I will not trade on the life of your friend. This way.”

Since she had no other way to find Carlotta—and she did just transport across the city in less than a minute thanks to the should-not-exist portal—she followed Tek as he maneuvered through the back streets. They entered a darkened neighborhood. Most of the streetlights had been smashed out, and the only visible light came from the flickering televisions still on in some of the clapboard houses. In the distance, she heard dogs barking, raucous laughter, and bass-thumping music.

Tek stopped in front of a dark one-story house with peeling paint and a sunken porch. “She is in there.”

“I’ll call Celia and have her direct the cops here,” said Mary, digging around in her purse.

A woman’s scream pierced the night. Before Mary could react, Tek leaped onto the front porch. In a single blow, he punched the door off its hinges and entered the house.

“Tek!” She ran after him, navigating the damaged porch and stepping across the threshold. The only light in the room emanated from the ceiling, the bulb so dim, it barely kept the darkness at bay. The door, splintered into several pieces lay all over the living room. .

She crept down the hallway, following the sounds of Carlotta’s sobs and a strange wet gurgling sound. She reached an opened door and paused, taking in the destruction. A single bedside lamp with a tilted shade revealed the havoc. The mattress was halfway off the bed, and shredded clothes littered the floor along with makeup items and busted jewelry.

Tek’s hand was clamped around the throat of a white dude with a shaved head. Donnie. The gasping sounds came from him. Tek held the man a couple feet in the air and pressed him against the wall so hard, the drywall had cracked.

“He’s turning blue,” Mary said. “You’re gonna kill him.”

“I do not see the problem.” Fury crowded Tek’s features. “He dares lay a hand on a woman? Only a cowardly weakling would do such a thing.” He pushed his face close to Donnie’s. The man’s eyes bulged and drool dripped from the corner of his mouth. “If you were on my planet your mate would have the right to sever your balls with a hot sword. A man without honor does not deserve progeny.”

Mary put her hand on Tek’s back. “Seriously, put him down.”

Tek stepped back and let go of Donnie, who landed in a heap on the floor, choking and coughing as he tried to draw air back into his lungs.

Mary looked around the room. “Carlotta?”

“Here,” came a weak voice.

The battered woman huddled in the corner, her lips bloody and one eye swollen shut. As outrage surged through Mary, she was this close to letting Tek have at Donnie again. It would serve the bastard right if Tek choked him to death. She knelt by Carlotta. “Can you stand up, honey?”

The moment the woman tried to move, she cried out. “I think he broke a rib,” she said, sobbing. “And maybe my shoulder.”

Mary could see a deformity in Carlotta’s clavicle. “Don’t move. I’ll get you help.”

“I will carry her,” said Tek. Mary moved out of the way and Tek carefully picked up the injured girl and cradled her in his massive arms. Carlotta reacted to his gentleness by relaxing and pressing her face against his chest.

Mary called 9-1-1 and reported the crime and the need for an ambulance. The paramedics arrived first and took over Carlotta’s care. As she was being tucked into the back of the vehicle, two police cars roared up and four uniformed officers converged on the yard where Mary and Tek stood.

As soon as Mary told the officers what had occurred, one policeman headed to the ambulance and three went inside to get Donnie. A minute later, one of the uniforms re-appeared and called out to the emergency crew. “This guy needs medical attention.”

“He needs to bleed to death,” muttered Tek.

“Hey, Hulk. Did you get into an altercation with the perpetrator?” asked the officer from the porch.

“No,” answered Mary before Tek could. “He was like that when we got here.”

The officer quirked an eyebrow but didn’t pursue further queries.

Once Mary and Tek gave their statements they were allowed to leave the scene. Tek walked her down a darkened alley and opened another portal. Within two steps, they were once again in the hallway of their apartment building.

Mary looked at her phone. “It’s after midnight. Good thing it’s the weekend. I can sleep in tomorrow. Well, today.”

Tek smiled at her and she felt a zing go right through her.

No longer in crisis mode, Mary was now confronted with the reality that Tek was, as he said, an alien. How else could she explain the portal? Or the way he tracked Carlotta? Her knees went weak and she wobbled. Holy crap. Tek was from another world?

Tek grabbed her by the elbows and held her upright. “Let us talk.”

Mary nodded, and she allowed Tek to usher her inside his apartment.

Four

Tek led Mary to the couch and sat next to her. He wanted so badly to kiss her, but he would not. She was finally open to the idea of him not being of earthly origins, which meant, she would be his. After all, she had agreed that he could prove he was “alien” she would “ghrata the night away” with him. He’d agreed to her bargain, and on his world, one’s word was one’s bond.

Which meant, the Oracle had been right—Geru had given him another chance with his mate. One of these days, he would stop doubting the Oracle, but it was hard to believe he would finally get the happiness he sought for so long.

Mary cleared her throat and gave him a tentative glance. “So, you’re from…where again?”

“Kratania,” he said. He took her hand and kissed her fingertips, confused when she pulled her hand back. He could smell her desire for him, and he’d proven his worth as a mate, along with proving he wasn’t a human. Why was she playing coy?

Mary chewed her lower lip for a moment, and it was the cutest thing Tek had ever seen. He wanted to ask if he could nibble the lip as well, but he held his tongue and waited for her to respond.

Finally, Mary met his gaze. “Never heard of it.”

Tek smiled. “Of course not, my harataya. It’s not located in your galaxy. But we’ve known of Earth for generations. Some of our people have re-settled here.”

“Like…Ancient Aliens? You know, it has that guy with the wild hair and wilder theories?”

Tek frowned. Sometimes the way Mary spoke made him believe she was larsu, or what the earthlings called “touched in the head.” Even so, he wanted her, regardless of whether her mental facilities were damaged. He would make sure she got the help she needed.

Mary waved her hand. “Never mind. This is what I get for watching the History Channel instead of the Science Channel. I don’t know much about space and time and wormholes. Unless you count marathoning Deep Space Nine.”

Tek breathed a sigh of relief. His mate wasn’t crazy. She just watched too much television. A medium he’d avoided after seeing the trauma shows. Mary’s nervousness was obvious, especially in the way she was communicating. Tek wanted to put her at ease. “I am sure my world is like nothing you’ve seen on TV. The only thing more beautiful than Kratania is you.”

Mary blushed and inhaled deeply. “I keep wanting to deny you are who you say you are, but since I just used a portal to travel instantaneously and you found Carlotta with your sense of smell, I won’t debate that you are, in fact, an alien. Why are you here?”

“I have already told you, I am here for you. As a royal and the next in line to rule our planet, I went to the Oracle and asked for Geru’s guidance. You were revealed as my mate. You are the one meant for me, Mary. And I for you.”

“Uh, we don’t have a jay-roo here. So I wasn’t informed about mating with a royal alien.”

“Not jay-roo. Jeh-rue.”

“Got it.”

Tek studied her expression. She looked dazed and seemed to have lost color in her cheeks. “I have burdened you with too much.” He took her hand into his. “Will you come to Kratania with me? Just for a few days. I want you to see my planet and meet my family.”

“You want me to meet your parents? We haven’t even been on a first date!”

“Do you require a date to travel home with me?” Tek checked his wrist unit, disguised as an Apple watch, and looked at the Earth’s calendar. “Today is the sixteenth. So, this is our first date. No, yesterday was our first date,” he corrected. After all, the Earth days ended at midnight. “So this is our second date.” He looked at her, pleased with his clever assessment.

Mary, though, looked chagrined. “That’s not what I meant—you know, it doesn’t matter. Where do we go from here?”

Tek held her gaze. Why was she being so resistant? He’d held up his side of the bargain. By his estimation, she should be more amenable to coming home with him and taking her place as his mate. “As we discussed,” he said. “Ghrata.”

“Look, this whole ghrata thing. We don’t have that on Earth. I can’t just leave my planet and go visit another world. I have a life here. Responsibilities. A job.”

“It is the weekend,” said Tek. “So, you are free for the next couple of days.”

“That’s not the point,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Tek. This is too unreal.” She stood up. “I really do appreciate your help with Carlotta. And I do hope you find your true mate. But I promise you that it’s not me. Your Geru got it wrong.”

Tek knew in his very heart that if Mary saw his world and spent time with him there, he could show her that they were meant to be. He could not let her go. Besides, a deal was a deal. How could she know if she’d made a good bargain if she didn’t at least give him and Kratania a chance?

He rose to his feet. He reached into his shirt to touch the stone. “I am sorry, too. I hope you will forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to—“

“Gauher.” Sleep.

Green mist hissed out from the stone and entered Mary’s mouth. Her eyes went wide, and then closed as she went limp.

He caught her easily and swung her up into his arms. Then he pressed the stone once more. “Shema.”

Five

When Mary awoke, she found herself submerged to her neck in fragrant pink water. What was that minty sweet essence? She’d never smelled anything like it before. As she inhaled the unique scent, she felt her shoulders relax. She sank further into the warm, silky water. Oh yeah, baby.

Wait.

Stop that.

Something’s off. Waaaaaaaay off.

Mary shook off her stupor and, as she blinked into total awareness, she realized immediately she was not at home. Duh. She had to stop passing out around Tek. That guy seemed to think the solution was getting her naked and throwing her into a tub.

She glanced around and sucked in a surprised breath. This wasn’t Tek’s bathroom, and Mary got the distinct feeling she wasn’t anywhere on Earth anymore. This had to be the alien version of a caveman conking his woman on the head so he could drag her off to his cave.

The room, designed to look like a lush, tropical jungle, was huge. Cavernous. Pink water gurgled down a wall of chunky obsidian rocks and splashed into the large circular tub—well, more liking a swimming pool. Large-petaled flowers in wild neon shades of green, red, orange, and blue dotted the perimeter. Some were huge, far taller than her, their stalks more like tree trunks.

Mary whistled. This was some fancy cave.

Above her were thousands of small lights and, as she stared at the glossy black ceiling, she swore the white pinpoints were moving. Yep. Moving in a rhythm—dancing without music.

Maybe I’m at a super rad spa.

Yeah? Well, Mary, how did you get here then?

New theory. I’m dead.

And the afterlife is really fucking weird.

Memory flashed. She remembered going to Tek’s apartment, standing up from the couch, and then—nothing.

The tub wasn’t too deep. Her feet touched smooth stone. Okay, good. Mary swam forward until she reached the center and then turned in a circle trying to determine how to get out of the most luxurious soak she’d ever experienced.

To her right, she spotted a wide staircase and paddled toward it.

As she landed on that first step and rose out of the water, cool air swirled around her naked body. She ducked down into the water again. Nope. She wasn’t getting out and exposing herself to whoever might be out there.

She swam along the perimeter, and it didn’t take her long to spot shiny copper towels hanging on hooks on the wall in front of the pool’s exit. Mary launched herself out of the pool and hurried toward the towels. The minute the tips of her fingers touched the silky fabric, it began to move on its own. It was almost like liquid—sliding down her arm and over her skin.

She screamed as the fabric wrapped itself around her and visions of boa constrictors strangling and swallowing their prey played in her mind. Damn Discovery Channel and all its cautionary tales!

“Your most regal highness! What is wrong?”

“I’m being killed by this—this—whatever the hell this is!” By the time Mary finished the sentence, the copper material had settled onto her body in the form of a head-to-toe body suit. It even covered her feet.

“Oh, no! I’ve been gilded!” Mary turned her gaze from her suddenly copper skin to the female that had answered her cries.

“I’ve never known a freck to harm its host,” said the worried woman.

Mary blinked. “You’re yellow.”

“No, most regal highness. I am Levia, and I belong to you. Crown Prince Tek has honored me with your care.” She hesitated. “But you may call me Yellow if you prefer.”

The female was shorter than Mary and leanly muscled. Her eyes were big, almond-shaped orbs with purple irises. Otherwise her features were humanoid—slanted cheeks, thin nose, and pouty lips. She wore a white tunic that went to her knees, and her feet were bare. Oh, and she only had three big toes that were webbed. Her moon-white hair was thick and long, braided into one long strand that went all the way to her butt.

Levia’s expression grew anxious. “Do I not please you? I promise to try harder.”

Mary’s eyes widened. “Yeah. Uh, let me get back to you on that.” She looked around the lush garden. I’m dreaming. I’m definitely dreaming. “Where’s the exit?”

“Exit?”

“You know, the way out. How do I leave this room?”

Levia stared at her, unblinking.

“Uh … are you all right?”

“I do not know. What is ‘all right’?” Levia twisted her hands, which had four long webbed fingers. “I do not wish to displease you.”

The woman’s anxiety was so palpable, Mary grasped her strange hands and squeezed. “It’s all good, Levia. Please don’t worry yourself into an aneurysm.”

Levia went still, and her mouth dropped open. She looked down at their clasped hands then returned her gaze to Mary. “You are … comforting me?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I don’t want you to implode.” Mary squeezed Levia’s hands again. “You good?”

“Yes,” said Levia. “Thank you, your highness.”

“My name’s Mary,” she said. “I don’t know what all this ‘your highness’ business is about, but trust me, I’m as far away from royal as you can get.” She began to realize where she probably was—and she was not on an acid trip or dead. But she knew a particular alien crown prince who would be very soon, if he didn’t explain himself.

A tall yellow dude dressed in a black tunic with red trim appeared out of freaking nowhere. His moon-white hair was short, worn in what Mary could only call “monk-style.” Though his eyes were the same purple as Levia’s, his face was more round. He scowled. “How dare you, Levia!”

Levia dropped Mary’s hands and stepped back, lowering her gaze to the ground.

“I am sorry, your highness,” said the man. “I will assign you another jemina. This one has shown disrespect.” He lifted his hand. A purple curl of something wet and vine-like unwound from his palm and wrapped around Levia’s wrist. It dragged her forward but Mary stepped in front of the girl.

“Dolma!” The deep male voice, rife with censure, was that of Tek. He wore a gold tunic with some kind of symbol on it, tight-fitting green pants, and weird sandal-esque shoes. The tunic was squared at the top and the green gem glittered from his sternum. It was no longer attached to a necklace and she realized that the stone was embedded into Tek’s flesh. Oh, and his skin had taken on a golden luminescence. Because that wasn’t weird or anything.

He strode past the yellow dude and stood in front of Mary, his massive arms crossing over his chest. “You dare lift a hand to my harataya?”

Dolma winced and the purple vine slurped back into his palm—ew, ew, ew—and dropped his hand. His expression was one of horror. “Never, my most honorable crown prince. It is the jemina I wish to discipline. She has touched your bride.”

Tek whirled around, his gaze landing on Levia. “Is this true?”

“Hey,” said Mary. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but no one, and I mean no one—“ she narrowed her gaze at Tek “—will be mean to Levia.” She moved back and put her arm around the trembling girl’s shoulders. “She’s gonna have a freaking heart attack because of you two.”

Dolma’s pinched lips dropped open, his gaze going wide. Tek’s expression turned to confusion. “You wish to protect her?”

“Don’t you?” she asked. “How is she any different from Carlotta?”

“We don’t abuse the Cudo.” Tek gentled his voice. “You do not know our culture. The Cudo are servants. They are bred and raised only to serve the royals. Their only desire, their only reason for living, is to care for us.”

“First of all, I’m trying really hard to believe this is real,” said Mary, although she had a yawning pit in her stomach that felt a lot like oh-shit-this-is-not-a-dream panic. “And secondly, what the hell is wrong with you? You breed servants? That’s … that’s slavery.”

“You are clearly upset,” said Tek. “Though I don’t understand your reaction. The Cudo are not slaves.”

“Really?” Mary looked at Levia. “Do you have any choice about whether or not to serve the royals?”

Levia stole a glance at Dolma and then at Tek. “There is no need for a choice,” she said softly. “It is our sacred duty to care for the descendants of M’athera.”

Mary narrowed her gaze at Tek. “Doesn’t sound like a choice to me.”

“Please, Mary,” said Tek. He looked nonplussed. “Allow Levia to go with Dolma. She will not be harmed. But you will get a new jemina.”

“No. I like her. She’s my friend.” As crazy as this situation was, Mary was not letting Levia out of her sight.

The Dolma gasped before silence descended heavily.

“You wish for Levia to be your friend?” asked Tek.

Mary looked at the girl, who probably hadn’t been able to make a single decision for herself in her whole life. “Would you like to be friends?” she asked.

“Very much,” whispered Levia.

“This is most unusual,” said Dolma. “Your highness—“

“Do not question the wishes of my Mary,” said Tek. “Levia is her friend.”

Dolma looked like he was sucking on a lemon. A flash of anger appeared in his odd gaze before he bowed and left.

“How do you get out of this place?” asked Mary.

“Follow me,” said Tek. He moved forward toward the craggy rock wall and stepped through it.

Mary hesitated.

“Like this,” said Levia. She stepped around Mary and walked through the wall, too. Then Levia stepped back inside and offered her hand. Mary accepted and, the next thing she knew, she walked into an opulently appointed room.

“As my bride’s friend, you will be moved to a nearby suite. Is this acceptable?”

Levia nodded. “Thank you, your highness.”

“You will also need new clothes, so I will call my seamstress. I’ll have Dolma inform the staff of your new status.”

Levia nodded then she looked at Mary. “Shall I help you dress, your highness?”

“Levia,” said Tek in a gentle voice. “You are not her jemina. You are her friend.”

“He means you don’t have to wait on anyone hand and foot anymore.”

Levia’s mouth pinched in a look of consternation. She turned to Mary and held out her hands. “Then…what should I do?”

“Whatever you want,” said Mary. “Isn’t that right, Crown Prince Tek?”

Six

“Yes,” said Tek, his expression resolved. “That is correct.”

Levia looked lost. Mary realized that by granting her sudden freedom, she’d also removed Levia’s purpose. It would take a while for the girl to come to terms with being her own person.

“Is there someone you would like to hang out with?” asked Mary gently.

Levia blinked at her.

“She is asking if you want a companion,” translated Tek.

“Enia,” said Levia. “She is my sister.”

Mary turned to Tek, lifting one eyebrow as she tilted her head.

He gave her slight nod. “Enia is also a friend to the crown,” he said. “If you like, you can share your new quarters with her.”

Excitement lit Levia’s purple gaze. “Thank you, your highness.”

“You are most welcome, Levia.”

“I am grateful to you, bride of the crown prince.” She bowed to Mary. Mary stepped forward and took Levia by the shoulders. “Call me Mary. And you don’t have to bow to me. Or to anyone.”

“Forgive me for interrupting, your highness,” said Dolma’s coldly polite voice. “I wish to inform you that Lady Levia’s quarters are ready.”

“Fetch Enia,” ordered Tek. “She has been elevated in status as well.”

Mary studied Dolma’s yellow face and noted the flash of distaste that registered on his expression. She could tell he didn’t like that Levia was now considered above his own station.

“As you wish, your highness.” Dolma opened the door and swept out his arm in a formal bow toward Levia. “This way, my lady.”

“Dolma,” said Tek. “Mary will require a new jemina.”

“No, Mary will not.” Mary crossed her arms and shook her head.

Dolma’s gaze moved from her to the crown prince. Tek sighed. “We will discuss it later.”

Dolma nodded. Levia exited the room and Dolma followed, shutting the door.

“You must have a jemina,” said Tek. “All the royal women have at least one. My mother has three.”

“I don’t want my own personal slave.” Mary paced the luxuriously appointed room. The bed was huge—it surely could fit at least ten people on it. The floors were marble, or at least, marble-like. There were two fireplaces—one closer to the massive bed and another bigger one at the far side of the room. The furniture was big and made of dark swirled wood. The walls shimmered with the color of freshwater pearls. The ceiling above was a glass dome.

“Is the glass pink or is that the sky?”

Tek smiled. “The sky.”

The vast pink, a bright, white sun and drifting clouds that shone silver hit home that she wasn’t on Earth anymore. Mary inhaled a deep breath and the advanced on Tek. “You kidnapped me. You had no right to take me here. None.”

“You made a bargain, Mary. If I were to prove I was an alien, you said you would ‘ghrata the night away’ with me.” Tek’s gaze met hers. “I have kept my end of our agreement.”

Um, crap. She had said that. Mary considered Tek’s perspective. Knocking her out and spiriting her away to Kratania was not cool. However, he was an alien—a prince, no less—and he seemed sincere, in very misguided way. She had to admit that she was curious about this place and Tek, and although all the bride talk was freaking her out, she was undeniably attracted to the alien. She wasn’t exactly on board with the marriage thing, but she was here now. And she had made the bargain.

“I’ll stay,” she said. “But you have to take me home by Sunday night. I have a job that I love, and friends who would worry about me.”

“If you are not convinced that you belong here, with me, by Sunday, Earth time, then I will take you home. Do you agree?”

“Yes,” she said. Mary doubted Tek could make her change her mind in two days, but she was here now and so was he. And she was going to embrace the full Kratanian experience.

Tek seemed to have the same thought.

He advanced on her, the wicked gleam in his gaze making her stomach pitch. She stepped back. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping the bargain.”

He swept her into his arms and took her to the massive bed. He laid her gently onto the cloud-soft mattress. “I have longed to be near you, to touch you. Tell me no, and I will stop. It is not my intention to force you, but make no mistake, I want you like a moili needs the seirun.”

“Huh?”

Tek smiled. “Like a tree needs the rain.”

Mary’s heartbeat kicked into overdrive. “And I suppose you want to put your root in me.”

A wicked smile crossed Tek’s lips. “Only one root?”

“You’re joking, right?” She’d seen him naked as a human and there’d been only one freaking root. But alien Tek? Who knew?

Tek laughed. “Only one root.” He held up his hands. “But ten fingers.”

He caressed Mary’s face with five of them. “I want to touch you, Mary. To hold you, and obviously, I want to put down roots.” He grinned again. “But first, I want to drink you, to feast from you, to savor the taste of you.”

“I suppose it’s not cannibalism if we’re the same species, but I’m pretty attached to my flesh.”

“You kid.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“I will spell it out then. I want to lick your pussy and drink your orgasm.”

Mary gulped as the throb between her thighs grew with her need. “That’s pretty spelled out.” Did he really want to go down there and…put his mouth on her? None of her boyfriends, what few there had been, had ever offered to give her oral pleasure. Her sexual experiences had always been disappointing. She stared at Trent, unable to respond. The knot in her throat was so tight she could barely breathe. He looked at her, waiting patiently.

Finally, she managed a weak nod.

He touched the copper freck suit at the shoulders. The material turned liquid and slithered off the bed, across the floor, and into the alien spa. Even the so-called towel knew how to use the invisible door. Sheesh.

“Frecks like humidity and they feed off the nectar of the umna flowers,” he explained. “They like the warmth of living beings and absorb excess water.”

“Symbiosis,” said Mary, jittery now, especially because she was naked. She watched Tex shed his clothing and feasted on his body. Muscles, muscles, and more muscles—all that gleaming golden flesh.

Mary trembled as Trent’s long fingers slid up her jiggly thighs. He treated her skin as though it was rare silk. He smiled at her, his gaze alight with lust. With his forefingers, he parted her, looking at her sex as though he were examining the dessert bar at a buffet. His breath quickened.

Tek was turned on…because of her.

Leaning forward, he kissed the top of her pubic bone. Then his tongue slid across her clitoris. Pleasure erupted, sudden and intense like she’d never experienced. She held onto the covers and shuddered. Exhaling raggedly, she tried to relax and allow herself the bliss he offered.

Tek pressed his tongue into her wet flesh, licking her, teasing her entrance. Then he kissed her clitoris, grazing the swollen nub with his teeth.

She nearly launched off the covers.

His tongue delved between the glistening folds, lapping up the beads of her desire, always returning to tease the electrified bundle of nerves before flitting back to her opening like a fickle butterfly.

He opened her with his fingers and blew hot air across her sensitized flesh then paused as the effects rippled from her sex to the low, heavy swirl in her belly.

He waited. Seconds ticked by and she gulped in air, her body whimpering for relief. But no, Tek left her quivering and panting and wanting.

“Please,” she whispered. “More.”

“Yes, my harataya.” He licked her juices from his lips. “I will give you so much more.” Showing no mercy, he plunged his tongue inside her.

Mary’s need pulsed hot and strong. She felt wild and raw, her fingers twisting deeper into the covers. Sweat beaded her throat and trickled between her breasts.

Once again, he stopped his sensual torture, but only for a second. His mouth settled onto her clit. She felt two of his thick fingers slid inside her wet channel. Curling under her entrance, he pushed up and back and then he sucked hard on her sensitive nub.

Stars exploded behind her eyes. Her hips left the bed as the orgasm seized her. Wave after wave of pleasure gripped her until she was reduced to trembles and tingles.

He sipped on her juices and soothed her sex. After, he rose to his knees and took her hand kissing the tips of her fingers. “I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you. You stir my blood, make me want, make me crave. Just being near you brings me such pleasure—and torments me.”

He took her hand and placed it against the hard length of his erection. Mary felt her pulse jump. She gripped his length. It wasn’t much different from a human male’s, and seemed to have the same kind of sensitivity. She replaced her long, lazy exploration into short, fast strokes. His moans of pleasure zapped the pit of her stomach. She wanted to please him. More than anything, she wanted him to know the same ecstasy he’d given her.

“My turn,” she said.

He settled onto the bed and she crawled between his legs. She wanted to taste him. Tek had been blessed in the parts department. She kissed his balls and fondled them. She skimmed the length of his cock with her hand, marveling at its hard beauty. Then she licked it from base to tip, swirling her tongue around the head before taking the tip into her mouth and sucking it.

It was his turn to cry out. “More!”

She grinned at his demands. For a moment, she felt more womanly, sensual and powerful than she had in all her adult life. Torturing him with tongue swirls and long licks, she finally took his full length into her mouth. His hands dove into her hair, guiding her. She held on to his thighs and took his strokes, her tongue hastening his orgasm as she teased the rigid shaft pumping between her lips.

“Mary!”

Warm, salty come spurted into her mouth, and she swallowed, drinking it like water given to a woman too long in the desert. He bucked and spasmed, his cries of completion wrenched from him.

When he finally released her, she kissed the tip and sat up on her knees.

What was happening between them was something she had not experienced with another lover. She’d never felt this way with another man—and the intensity of her feelings frightened her.

Seven

Tek flipped Mary onto her back and covered her, tasting her breasts. He kissed their undersides before sliding his tongue around her puckered nipples. A thrill of delight stabbed him as she guided his hand to the slick folds of flesh between her legs.

“Wow. You don’t need a lot of recovery time, do you?”

He arched a brow. “Recovery time for what?”

Ah. His Mary tasted sweeter than the fruit of the Yalla tree, which only bloomed once in its entire life cycle. She was as precious as the starfire gems found in the snow-capped mountains of Arabec. Her body was lusher than verdant islands of H’entair.

Her fierce desire to protect, her kind heart, her radiant beauty—Mary was everything he’d hoped for in his mate and so much more. He wanted so much to prove that they belonged together. Not because Geru deemed them a match, but because they could love one another deeply and form an unbreakable life-bond. He wanted to show her how much she meant to him already, how important she was to him, and to his world.

“Please,” she said, her voice hoarse with need. “I want you inside me.”

Elation mixed with lust and desperation threatened to overwhelm Tek. What Mary asked for was everything he wanted. “Yes, my love.” Tek entered her, hard and fast, and sheathed his cock until the tip touched the entrance to her womb.

Her hands were everywhere—his thighs, buttocks, back, shoulders—sweeping across the bulging muscles in the arms that held her, cupping the square jaw, trailing the strong cords in his neck. Mary shuddered and writhed, bucking against him, her body begging for his domination.

“Yes, yes,” she whispered. “I feel you inside me. So good. Don’t stop.”

“I want you more than anything…than anyone,” he said. He increased the power in his thrusts, moving against her, pumping into Mary with a fierce possession.

She gasped, her body quickening to his.

“Come for me, beloved,” he said, his voice hoarse with passion. “Come with me.”

“Yes.” She clawed at his back, her hips meeting his as he sank deep inside her, their groins locked as their mutual climaxes exploded. “Yes!”

They held onto each other as they both tipped into ecstasy.

“Good childbearing hips,” said the wizened old lady. She looked older than time, her silvery gray hair coiled on her head, her rheumy eyes examining Mary like livestock, and her stooped form reminding Mary of the wicked witch in Snow White. If the blue robed crone offered Mary an apple, it was going to be a hard pass. The old lady, who’d been introduced as the all-knowing Oracle, leaned on a polished staff. A blue stone gleamed from its circular top.

“Can we move on with this inspection?” Mary asked impatiently. Naked and cold, she shivered as she stood in the small chamber. Why the hell was she doing this? Because she’d gotten to ghrata with Tek, and now she was actually considering the idea of staying on Kratania, that’s why. She didn’t have family, her friends were few, and she spent most nights watching TV and eating ice cream. A beautiful prince from another world wanted to marry her and one day rule an entire planet together.

Was it really a choice?

Not to mention her feelings for him. They’d grown exponentially since she’d gotten here, or maybe she’d just let down her walls when Tek had made love to her. A lifetime with him? Was it possible?

As the Oracle made her fourth circuit around Mary, she patted her ass. “Got some meat on your bones, don’t you?” She cackled as she peered up at Mary. “You give our crown prince something to hold onto when he’s plowing you.”

Mary’s jaw dropped, and she stared at the wise woman, unable to believe those words had just crossed such grandmotherly lips.

The Oracle struck her staff onto the marble floor, and the sound echoed throughout the circular room. “Are you worthy of our Crown Prince?” she intoned.

Mary opened her mouth, but no words came out.

The woman leaned forward and whispered, “The answer is yes.”

Swallowing the knot in her throat, Mary managed to squeak out a “Yes.”

“Good.”

Blue light issued from the staff’s unusual stone and encircled Mary. She felt heated tingles zip through her body. After the light and sensations dissipated, she felt utterly at peace. She suddenly knew that she was exactly where she belonged.

“The Prophecy Stone of Kratania has confirmed my vision,” said the Oracle. She tapped the top of the staff. “This union is blessed by Geru.” The Oracle gestured at Mary to follow her. “Come with me.”

They left the little room and entered a cozy living space. In the hearth burned a lovely fire, and the floor was littered with huge, fluffy pillows. On a tray positioned before the fireplace sat a tea service and tiny sandwiches.

“Here is your robe.”

Finally! Some freaking clothing.

Mary put on the gold robe and held her breath for a second as she waited for it to do something exciting, like the copper towel from the spa. When it did nothing but warm her body, she let out a noisy exhalation.

“Are you unwell?” the Oracle asked.

“Nope, just bracing myself for surprises.”

“You are interesting, earthling.” The woman squatted onto a pillow positioned on one side of the tray.

Mary took the other pillow and looked at the goodies. “You have no idea.” Her stomach growled. She hadn’t had a thing to eat since lunch…which seemed like a year ago.

“Go on, my princess,” said the Oracle. “Eat.”

“You don’t have to invite me twice.” She grabbed a couple of sandwiches and bit into the first one. “Mmm mmm.” She closed her eyes for a moment to savor the bite. It was creamy and tasted like peppered cucumber. The second one was sweet and crunchy like it was filled with tartly, candied gherkins.

“Is that all there is to this business?” Mary plucked another sandwich from the tray. “You pronounce me worthy of Tek and we’re done?”

“No,” said the Oracle, chuckling. “Tomorrow, Prince Tek will present you to the Court and announce you as his harataya. As is our custom, any female can challenge your claim to the throne.”

Mary nearly choked. “You mean I have to fight other women?”

“In my life as an Oracle, a thousand and three years now, no female has ever challenged Geru’s pick for Queen. It is a mere formality.”

Feeling slightly better about the situation, Mary tried a tiny square cake. It tasted like a sugared pear. Not bad. Of course, a drizzle of chocolate would’ve have made it even better. “What happens after that?”

“You perform the marriage rites.”

“Dare I ask what they involve?”

The Oracle chose a bright orange petit four and popped it into her mouth. After she chewed the treat, she looked at Mary. “You and Tek will bond before the King, Queen, and the Royal Court. After you are pledged to each other, you must retire to Tek’s chamber and perform your first sexual act as a married couple before the Guild.”

“Before the Guild does what?”

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“You said we will have sex before the Guild...” Mary waved her hands around. “Before the Guild does what?”

The old woman’s mouth turned down into a frown. “You really are an interesting child.”

“I’m beginning to suspect that you use the word ‘interesting’ when what you really mean is stupid.”

The Oracle sighed. “I mean no offense, your highness. Before. As in, in front of. In other words, you’ll have an audience the first time you do the dirty with the prince,” the Oracle said coarsely. “The Guild is made up of five powerful psychics. They will confirm your first sexual act as a married couple and make sure that his seed has been planted in you.”

“What?”

“Tek is primed to get his mate pregnant from day one and only heirs produced within the marriage are legitimate.” The old woman peered at her. “It is your duty to provide your husband with plenty of sons.”

“Is that all?” A note of sarcasm crept into the question.

The Oracle nodded. “Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.”

No, I will not do fine. Mary was in trouble. As much as she wanted Tek, all these expectations were scary. She wasn’t from this world, but she was going to rule it? And she was going have an alien’s baby before she even had a chance to adjust to being the alien’s wife. The delicious food soured in her stomach. She pressed a hand against her roiling tummy.

“I’ve never been wrong about a Queen.” The Oracle poured a cup of tea and handed it to Mary. “You are strong in mind, spirit and heart. You are the perfect match for our prince.”

“Yeah,” said Mary, clenching the teacup. “Perfect.” If by perfect, the Oracle meant, a woman who was going to run far, far away first chance she got.

Eight

After her meeting with the Oracle, Mary glided down the massive hallway toward Tek’s rooms. Mary had her speech prepared. I’m sorry, Tek, she would say mournfully, but I can’t do this. It’s too complicated. I haven’t thought about children or marriage. You’re hot…I mean you’re really hot…but I can’t be your Queen.

The problem wasn’t the speech—it was her reluctance to give it. What kind of idiot would give up Tek so she could go home to an empty life? So what if she had to do to get naked it front of a group of strangers who would judge her body and her sexual prowess in a very public forum? Uhm, yeah, that was totally not going to happen.

Still, fear of losing Tek chilled her.

What was the right decision?

She entered the cavernous bedroom. Tek had gone to deal with what he called “palace business,” so she’d be alone for a while. Still, she was so busy worrying that she’d stopped paying attention to where she was going and slammed into a wall.

A wall that was big and muscled and swearing. When she managed to lift her head, which ached fiercely thank you very much, she faced a man who had to be related to Tek. He had the golden skin and the height, and dear lord the muscles, of her…er, sorta boyfriend. His hair was lighter than Tek’s, but he had the same slanted cheekbones, a squared chin, and aquiline nose.

“Are you lost?” he asked. He grasped her elbows to steady her. “If you’re looking for the shooktu, it’s the other direction.”

“Who the hell are you?” she blurted.

“Mek. And you are?”

She sighed. “Insane.”

He grinned.

Wait a minute. He had a freck draped around his waist, but other than that he was naked. She scuttled backward.

“Don’t go, my luscious tre’ha,” he said, reaching for her.

“That’s my woman!” roared Tek as he entered the room. He pulled Mary away from Mek, holding her against his chest protectively, and glared at the man.

“Who is to say that Insane is yours, brother?”

“Her name is Mary, she is perfectly sane, at least, I am ninety-nine percent certain...”

“I am sane,” Mary muttered defensively against Tek’s chest before pushing away from him so she could turn toward Mek. “I am.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Tek kissed Mary on top of her head and addressed his brother. “She is my harataya.”

“My apologies, Mary,” said Mek. “I did not know my brother’s mate had arrived.”

Tek frowned. “Why are you in my bedroom?”

“Your bathtub is bigger than mine, and it has a waterfall.”

“How many times must I tell you to stay out of my room?” groused Tek. “Build a waterfall in your own bathroom and leave mine alone.”

At that moment, two very tall women entered. Both wore frecks, which clung to their voluptuous forms. The slightly taller of the two had light blue hair and the other had purple locks. Their hair was wet—no doubt from swimming around in the pink water. They sauntered toward Mek, looking curiously at Mary and Tek.

“Go to Mek’s room, if you feel the need for sport,” said Tek crossly.

“We would be honored to serve you, Crown Prince Tek,” said Blue Hair. She laced her fingers through the other woman’s hand and drew her forward. “Alana joined the harem today. Is it not your pleasure to welcome her?”

Mary felt a strange emotion weave through her. It took her a second to recognize the jealousy. Were those two blind? Could they not see Tek held her in his arms? So what if she’d only known him two weeks, and he’d only seduced her a few hours ago? Glaring at Blue Hair, she turned and wrapped her arms around her man and snuggled. The tart’s eyes went molten with rage. Mary barely resisted the urge to yell nyah, nyah!

“Mek,” said Tek in a weary voice. “Did I not tell you to stop adding to your shooktu?”

“I only have a dozen girls now,” said Mek. He looked at Mary, his expression aggrieved. “Tek keeps marrying them off.”

“You are the only one who keeps a shooktu. It is an outdated tradition,” said Tek in a voice that suggested he had given the same explanation many times. “We live in modern times.”

“Not all of us wish to leave such service,” said the blonde. “Alana is my sister. She, too, wishes to please the princes of M’athera.”

Tek glared at his younger brother. “You will disband the shooktu.”

“What if they don’t want to leave?” asked Mek. “Can I keep them?”

Tek stared at his brother until Mek sighed. “Fine. I will do as my prince commands.”

“I do not wish to leave,” said Rona. “I am happy here.”

“We will find you a suitable husband—or job, whichever you prefer. Mek, escort Rona to her room,” said Tek. “Alana, stay here.”

Mek tugged Rona out of the room. The blue-haired vixen cast a glance over her shoulder, her blue eyes filled with rage. Mary had the feeling that Rona wanted to hurt her. It was obvious the woman desired Tek.

“I must release you for a moment,” he murmured. “I retrieved your chocolates.”

He guided her to the freakishly gigantic bed. As soon as she sat down, he grabbed the box from a nearby table and placed it on her lap.

“Thanks,” she said. Her gaze skittered toward Alana. As curvy and tall as she was, she appeared to be young. “You’re not gonna do anything I might have to castrate you for, are you?”

Tek blinked down at her. “Castrate?”

“If you try anything with that girl, I will cut off your balls.”

He laughed heartily. “No, my beautiful Mary. This, I promise you.” He strode across the massive room and opened the tall, carved door on the left. He entered it briefly and when he returned, he held a white tunic.

Tek gestured Alana forward. As the girl walked to her sovereign, she ducked her head. Her whole body trembled.

“What do you wish of me?” she asked. Apparently all her sensual bravado had gone out the door with sister. “I am versed in massage, in oral pleasure, in—”

“No,” said Tek gently as he put the robe over her head. Alana then touched her shoulders and the freck slid off. “Alana, why did you join the shooktu?”

“My family is too poor to pay my dowry,” she admitted as she finished putting on the garment. “My fiancé would have me without it, but Father has too much pride. They think I am visiting cousins. I lied to them so they would never know my shame.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “Rona told me that if I joined Mek’s shooktu, I might earn enough coins to wed. She says he is very generous.”

“Rona does not send any money to your family?”

Alana shook her head.

Tek glanced at Mary, grimacing. “It is customary for adult children to send a portion of their earnings to their parents. It is a gesture of love and of thanks. We call it matra-patra, which means ‘mother-father honor’.”

Mary seriously doubted ol’ Rona had any love in her heart, much less gratitude for anyone other than herself. “C’mere, Alana,” she said. “Have a chocolate.”

The girl looked at Tek, who nodded his permission, and she walked to the bed and sat. Mary opened the box, took off the paper insert, and offered the girl her pick. She plucked one out and popped the whole thing into her mouth. Her eyes widened as she chewed it. After she swallowed, she exclaimed, “It is wonderful!”

“You’ve never had chocolate?” asked Mary.

“We do not have cacao beans on Kratania,” said Tek, chuckling. “And we really have no equivalent to your truffles.”

“That’s…that’s…horrifying! I’m not sure I want to live in a place where chocolate doesn’t exist.”

“I will make sure you have chocolate every day, my beloved. You will never want for it. You will never want for anything. This is I swear.”

His words made her thighs quiver again. “You say the sexiest damn things.”

Alana covered her mouth. “I will leave if you wish to be alone.”

“Not yet,” Tek said. He strode to a massive dresser against the far wall. He opened a drawer and plucked a bag from inside it. Then he returned and handed the bag to Alana. She took it, opened the drawstring, and gasped. Carefully, the girl removed a blood-red stone.

“This will buy your dowry,” said Tek. “And the rest should cover what Rona owes your family. Tell your father that Crown Prince Tek honors his service to his country. And promise to never lie to your mate or to your father again.”

“Yes, Prince Tek,” said Alana, her face bright with hope. “Thank you, milord and m’lady.”

Mary smiled and once again offered the box. “Go on, take another one.” After all, according to Tek, she was getting a lifetime supply.

Delighted, Alana took another chocolate. Then she rose from the bed. Tek guided her to the door. “Go see my steward. Ask him to arrange transportation to your home.”

Alana nodded, hesitated, and then planted a kiss on Tek’s cheek. She hurried out the door.

Tek returned to the bed and smiled at Mary. “It was kind of you to share your chocolates.”

“That was nothing compared to what you did for her.” Mary was still wrapping her brain around the idea that her would-be lover was a crown prince. She reluctantly boxed up the chocolates and returned them to the side table.

Okay, Mary, suck it up. Tell him you want to go home. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Tek sat next to her and took her hand. “Your meeting with the Oracle went well?”

“I guess. She said I had great childbearing hips.”

He grinned. “You have great everything, Mary.” He stared at her, his eyes filled with what she could only call love. “I know you do not understand our customs or traditions. I cannot take the next steps until you know—and accept—the truth about us.

“When a crown prince turns thirty, he must wed. At that time, we ask the Great Geru for guidance. It is the Oracle who makes Geru’s will known.

“All matches between kings and their queens have borne love as well as heirs. It is said that as long as the kings follow the will of Geru, Kratania will remain a loving, peaceful planet. For a thousand years, it has been so.” He squeezed Mary’s hand. “You are my queen. Once we are bound, the ritual that binds us together, heart and soul, body and mind. Once the final ritual is performed, we will be bound heart and soul, body and mind. We will be together for always. We will rule Kratania as one.”

“And if I don’t agree to marry you?”

“My crown passes to my brother Vrek, who is next in line.”

She could see something else in his expression. He was holding back from her. “What else?”

“I don’t want to lie to you, but the truth is not fair either.”

“You just made Alana promise to be truthful with her family and mate. If I’m your mate then you should be honest with me.”

“Fine.” His expression soured, but the surly grimace looked adorable on him. “If you refuse me, I will not wed. I will take the monk’s robes and live out my life in a Kratanian monastery.”

Holy crap. Mary tried to lighten the mood. “Becoming a monk would sure be a waste of bedroom talent.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have to give up sex.”

Mary’s eyes widened, and a whirl of possessive jealousy threatened to swallow her whole. “You wouldn’t!”

Tek laughed. “I would be chaste.” He kissed her nose. “If that would make you happy.”

Mary shook her head. “Not funny. I don’t want you to be alone. Hell, I don’t want to be alone. I want to be with you, Tek, but what about my life on Earth?”

“If you marry me, you must leave it behind.” He looked uncertain. “Will you miss it so much?”

Mary wanted to laugh, but tears fell instead. She had acquaintances, not friends. She was the only child of parents who had passed on a decade ago and she had no other family.

If she thought too long about her crappy days and her lonely nights, she would have to admit she’d lived an inferior life. She had never believed herself worthy of reaching for something better. And yet, something better had fallen into her lap. Or rather, she had fallen into his arms.

Damn it. What should she do? Go back to a life unfulfilled or allow herself to be front in center of her own reality TV show called, Watch Mary Make A Baby.

Nine

“I do not think Mary wishes to stay,” said Tek. He left Mary to think, but she’d also wanted to check in with Levia and Enia. Maybe their company would convince her that she had a place here.

“What will you do?” the Oracle asked.

“What can I do?” He paced across the Yalla tree. “I cannot force her to stay. If she will not mate with me…I will be the only the king in a thousand years that failed to procure his rightful queen.” He shook his head. “Or rather, I will be the only king to give up his throne because he failed.”

The elderly Kratanian raised her brow at him. “Your place in history concerns you?”

Tek thought about Mary—her smile, her scent, her soft heart and giving nature. “I don’t want to be without her,” he admitted.

“And if the choice is either Mary or Kratania?”

Tek paused and turned to the Oracle. “Mary,” he said. He shook his head. “That is the wrong choice, I know, but I can’t choose duty over love. The planet of my birth deserves my loyalty, but so does the woman I have promised to honor and love.”

The Oracle caressed his cheek fondly. “You have always followed your heart. That’s what will make you a good leader, Tek. Even with a broken heart, you would rule Kratania with a fair and compassionate hand.”

Tek hesitated. “I’ve already told Mary I would take the robes.”

“That’s...unfortunate.” The Oracle threw up her hands. “Alas, it is your choice.”

“Then I know what I must do.”

Thirty minutes later, Tek found Mary and dragged her back to his room. “I will give up my crown and move with you to Earth.”

Shocked, Mary stared at him. “What about duty to your people? You’ll be a really good king, Tek. I don’t want you to give that up for me.”

“A good king needs a good queen.” He hesitated. “I’ve already told you I do not wish rule Kratania without you by my side. In fact, I do not wish to do anything without you.”

Mary grinned, her heart alight with an emotion she dared not name. Aw, what the hell. She wrapped her arms about her prince and said, “You mean that you love me.”

“Love.” He nodded. “Yes, Mary. I love you.”

“This is crazy, you know that?”

He frowned. “I know my own heart.”

“And Kratania?”

“Vrek will do right by our planet. In fact, all of my brothers are strong, valiant and noble. They are good leaders and good men. Any of them could rule in my place.”

Maybe not Mek, Mary thought. But the others, maybe. It didn’t change the fact that she knew Tek wanted to rule Kratania. He wanted to be king. Hell, he deserved to be king. All she had to do was say yes, and put on an alien porno for a group of people called the Guild. That wasn’t too difficult, was it?

She sighed. Heavily. “Fine,” she said softly, “I’m your harataya.”

Tek gathered Mary into his arms. “You will stay with me?”

“Yes,” she said, and meant it with all her heart.

The next evening, Mary, Tek and the Oracle stood on a large stage in the middle of a circular room that was half the size of a football field. In the middle of the dais were the thrones of the King and Queen, who looked like they could rule Kratania forever. They had been very nice to Mary, but she still felt intimidated by their beauty and power.

Determined now to meet her destiny head-on, Mary had dressed in the royal gold tunics and paraded herself on Tek’s arm through the huge crowd. She’d listened to all the speeches and smiled until her lips ached. And finally, the announcement rang out in Tek’s strong, deep voice: “The Chosen Crown Princess is Mary Jeanne Wolmack. She is my harataya!”

A loud cheer went up.

Then the Oracle—yeah, Miss-No-One-Challenges-My-Choice-For-Queen—pounded her staff onto the floor and announced, “All hail the harataya of Crown Prince Tek! Whosoever challenges his harataya, speak now or forever hold your peace!”

The Oracle hadn’t expected anyone to step forward. The crowd hadn’t expected it, either. A gasp rippled through the wedding guests as Rona’s voice boomed through the room. “I challenge Mary Wolmack from Earth.”

“Rona,” said the King in a voice rife with censure. “You would dishonor Geru’s choice as your next queen?”

“I honor Geru. It is because of Geru that I challenge, and under the law, I have the right.” Rona bowed prettily, but her eyes flashed hatred at Mary. “She is not of our world, Your Highness. She knows nothing about our planet or our customs. It is my duty as a loyal citizen of Kratania to see if the Earth woman is truly worthy of our prince.”

“Loyal citizen?” snorted Mary. She remembered her conversation with Alana and Tek about a daughter’s duty. “You’re loyal only to yourself. When’s the last time you sent matra-patra tributes?”

Rona’s lips tightened. “I have begged the forgiveness of my parents and made peace with them. If you knew anything about our culture, you would know that asking forgiveness negates the debt.”

Mary rolled her eyes. Then she looked at the Oracle. “You said this was only a formality.”

The Oracle shrugged. “I can’t help the stupidity of this one.” She sighed. “You must answer the challenge, Mary. Do you fight for your prince or do you relinquish your claim to Rona?”

Mary glared at Rona. If the bitch wanted a brawl, Mary was going to bring it. “I fight for my prince.”

“I’m going to lose,” said Mary. She looked down at the tunic. It was sleeveless and very short. She wore a pair of panties that didn’t even try to cover her ass. The garment offered freedom of movement and some coverage, so she wasn’t going to complain about the get-up. “I need a baseball bat or a knife. Better yet, if Tek can take me home, I think one of my previous clients might be able to get me a gun.”

Levia, who had joined Mary in support, gave her a confused look. Mary added, “I’m interesting. Just ask the Oracle.”

“You are very interesting,” agreed Levia, a small smile playing on her lips.

They stood inside a tent on a large field. Outside a warm breeze blew and tickled the cloth walls. In just a few moments, Mary would enter a roped-off circle and try to beat the tar out of Rona, and vice versa.

“Hit her in the gurta,” advised Levia. She pointed between her legs. “A lot.”

“Do you all have something extra down there I don’t know about? Because otherwise, the gurta may not hurta enough to get me ahead.”

Levia took her hands and squeezed. “You will do well. You are fierce.”

“Thanks, Levia.”

She nodded and, with one last smile of reassurance, exited the tent.

The only good thing about the battle was that it wasn’t to the death. The first woman knocked down and pinned for ten seconds won the fight, the prince, and the right to rule Kratania. Tek entered the tent and took Mary into his arms. He kissed her deeply. “I have faith in you, my harataya.”

“That makes one of us,” said Mary. Nerves plucked at her stomach. “Levia said I should hit Rona in the gurta.”

“Hit her everywhere,” he said. “But the gurta is a good place to start.

“I want to win,” she said, “but I’ve never fought anyone before.”

“Trust in Geru.” He stroked her hair. “And trust in yourself.”

Ten

The second time Rona pinned her, the Oracle counted to seven before Mary managed to kick the ferocious bitch off.

As she backed away from the grinning harem girl turned challenger, Mary spit out dirt and blood. The hateful woman enjoyed hurting Mary. She’d punched and kicked and bitten and pulled hair, screaming like a banshee every time she smacked Mary around.

Mary had gotten a few good licks in, but she was seriously out-of-shape and fading fast. Rona, for all her girth, didn’t look tired at all.

“What’s the matter?” taunted Rona. “They don’t teach Earth girls how to fight?”

Unless Mary included watching Miss Congeniality and the infamous SING scene, then no, Mary had never learned to fight.

Rona leapt forward, but Mary whirled out of the way. The woman switched directions, and screeching with victory, attempted to grab Mary by the shoulders.

Once again, Mary slipped out of the woman’s grasp. She turned to run. Maybe if she kept Rona running and leaping and jumping, the hag would pass out from sheer exhaustion.

Instead, Rona caught Mary from behind, her arms clamping tightly around Mary’s waist. Mary howled with anger and despair. She didn’t want to lose, damn it. Rona squeezed harder and harder, probably trying to bruise ribs and puncture lungs. Gasping for breath, the face of Sandra Bullock floated through her blurry thoughts.

Wait a minute.

SING.

“Solar plexus,” cried Mary, jabbing one elbow into the gut of Rona. “Instep!” She crushed Rona’s bare foot under her heel and the woman wailed.

“Nose!” Mary bashed the back of her skull into Rona’s face and heard a distinct crunch. “And gurta!”

Her fist went back and slammed into Rona’s va-jay-jay, or whatever the alien bitch had between her legs. The woman let go and staggered away. Mary turned around and let loose with a kick to the already pummeled junk, and a right hook that smashed into Rona’s already battered nose.

Rona toppled face-first into the dirt. Mary sat on her and smiled gleefully as the Oracle counted to ten.

Tek ran into the ring and scooped his brave, beautiful Mary into his arms. “You are a warrior, my beloved!” He kissed her, savoring her mouth, breathing her in. Even though she was covered in dirt, blood, and sweat, he found her intoxicating. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” said Mary.

“By the power of the Great Geru,” said the Oracle, “and the blessing of the King and Queen and people of Kratania, I pronounce you, Tek and Mary, forever bound.”

Tek and Mary faced one another. Their jewels sparked, the blue lights meeting in the middle. She felt a jolt and full body tingle. Bound, heart, mind and soul. Yes, she had found her destiny. She was sure of that now. Tek was hers and together they would lead a full and happy life.

The filled-to-capacity ballroom erupted in cheers, laughs, and claps. Tek cupped Mary’s face and brushed his lips across hers. “I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you, too.” Mary had never felt so happy. She kissed him again and grinned.

“It is time,” said the Oracle. “Return to your chamber and enjoy this night.”

“What about all these people?” asked Mary.

“Oh,” said the Oracle, cackling, “we get to party until dawn. Free drinks and food courtesy of the king. Woo-hoo!”

Music blasted from the other end of the room and soon all the jostling bodies were singing and dancing. Tek led her from the dais and through the boisterous crowd. After many stops, congratulations, smooches and tributes, they finally made it into the hallway.

Tek held Mary’s hand tightly as they hurried to their bedroom. Before the door closed behind them, Tek had unbuttoned the simple white wedding gown. The silky material pooled at her feet and left her quite naked. Mary was getting used to the idea of being nude all the time.

Mary fumbled with his tunic and he kicked off his boots and loose pants. Now Tek was gloriously naked. He was so yummy. And he’s all mine.

“Crown Prince Tek,” said a female voice. “We see you are ready to begin.”

Mary whirled around and yelped. Three men and two women, all dressed in silver robes, stood in front of the huge bed. “What the holy hell!”

“The Guild,” said Tek. “They must witness our first mating.”

“Terrific.” Feeling decidedly less enthusiastic, Mary marched over to the bed, dragging her beloved with her.

“Well,” she said, “let’s get this over with so they’ll leave.”

Tek laughed. “You are so romantic, my beautiful Mary.”

She blushed, trying not to look at the five people watching them just a few feet away. This really sucked. She didn’t want to have sex with her husband in front of those gawkers.

To her relief, Tek pulled a gossamer curtain free from one of the bedposts and pulled it shut. It wasn’t exactly a wall, but at least it gave them some privacy.

“I have never tried one of your chocolates,” said Tek. “Perhaps your treats will make our first time as husband and wife more pleasurable.”

“Everything’s better with chocolate,” agreed Mary.

She lay down on the bed and stared at Tek. She was not going to look at the Guild. He grabbed the box from the side table and placed it near her shoulder. He opened the box and chose one of the treats.

Tek scooted between her legs then he bent down to lick her pussy.

“Oh!” Mary closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations of his flickering tongue. Her cunt welcomed every wet, hot stroke. Soon, she was squirming and wet.

Then she felt Tek tuck the chocolate into her pussy.

“Hey!” Her eyes popped open. “What are you doing?”

He grinned, squeezing the round sweet until it was crushed and melting in her crease. “Eating chocolate…and you.”

She didn’t protest again. He stretched out comfortably, as if he had all the time in the world and as if five people weren’t watching them closely, and pushed apart her legs.

He parted her vulva to lick away the beads of her cream. He toyed with her clitoris, too, and stroked her to her higher and higher pleasure.

Then…oh, then…he delved into her chocolate-covered opening.

He sucked and nibbled and licked. And when he had driven her mad with his lips and his tongue and wicked fingers, he crawled over her and slid his big cock inside her.

He didn’t move, the rat. No, he decided to suckle her nipples, tormenting them until they ached.

Mary’s hands were restless, touching every bit of his skin she could reach. And when she couldn’t take any more of his lazy lovemaking, she smacked his ass.

“Fuck me,” she demanded.

He kissed her, tasting of her essence and caramel-chocolate. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he thrust into her.

She met his every stroke, arching and rubbing as his cock pumped into her faster and harder. All she felt, all she knew was Tek. Sweat rolled off their bodies as they strained toward mutual peaks.

He plowed into her over and over, and she felt the spark of her orgasm.

“Mary,” he cried, “I’m going to come!”

His declaration drove her over the edge. Together, they reached for rapture and fell into the sparkling heat of completion.

“It is done,” said the same woman, speaking for the Guild.

Mary groaned and slapped a hand over her eyes. “Great,” she said. “Now go the hell away.”

“They’re already gone,” said Tek. He looked ravenous, as if he were a starving man presented with a buffet. He rolled off Mary then tucked her onto her side so that his chest pressed against her back. He fitted his half-hard cock against her swollen sex and filled his hands with her breasts, tweaking her nipples. She moaned and wiggled against him.

“My seed is planted,” he said, abandoning her breasts to stroke her stomach. “Soon, our child will grow within you.”

As scary as it sounded to be a mother, Mary had to admit she loved the idea of carrying and bearing her husband’s child. Maybe that’s what love did to you—made you all mooshy and weird and happy. And maybe love made you reach a little higher and work a little harder.

In no time, Tek had another hard-on. Mary lifted her leg and guided his cock into her slick entrance. Once again, he cupped her breasts, twisting the peaks as he thrust inside her.

Mary panted and strained, enjoying every sensual movement. He kissed her neck, whispering sweet nothings, and she smiled.

Slowly, he pushed her onto her front, his cock still embedded, squeezed between her thighs, and his body pressed against hers. Mary’s nipples scraped against the coverlet, her cheek pressed against the edge of a pillow. The pleasure was intense.

Yet again, her husband changed positions.

Bracing on either side of her, he lifted up. Before she knew it, she was sitting on his lap, her legs butterflied on either side of his. He thrust upward, burying his cock so deep, she swore his crown brushed the entrance to her womb.

She moaned, holding onto his thighs as he plunged into her.

“Mary,” he murmured. “Sweet, beautiful Mary.”

Mary slid her hand between her thighs and placed it so she could feel Tek’s shaft pierce her core. She rubbed her clit, panting as she met Tek’s every solid thrust. The orgasm welled, and she increased the friction.

“Oh, Tek,” she gasped. “I’m going to come again, baby. Oh! Ooooh!”

The pleasure burst into a thousand, hot fragments. Tek cried out. He came hard, his breath harsh, and his body stiffening as his seed shot hot and deep inside her.

“Well,” she said trying to catch her breath, “if I wasn’t pregnant before, I sure am now.”

Tek laughed as he helped Mary off his lap. Together they lay on the bed and looked at each other. “You are very beautiful.”

“So you’ve said.” Mary smiled as she traced the skin around Tek’s green stone. “You’re not so bad yourself. I do love you, you know.”

He gathered her into his arms and held her tightly. “I know, and it makes me glad.”

Mary held him right back. “Me too.” She snuggled deeper into his embrace, drowsy and jubilant. Damn she was happy Tek had shoved her through that portal. They had both fought for the right to be together.

And they had won.

Vrek

Read on for an excerpt from the next novella in the How To Marry an Alien series!

“Ohmigawd! Here he comes, girl. Mr. Caramel Latte Two Extra Shots, Venti Please.”

From behind the counter of Coffee Junkies, Donna Reynolds looked at her lithe black friend, who was doing some kind of bootie dance with extra boob jiggle. Of course, Rochie could bend like a pretzel thanks to her thin frame and addiction to yoga. Then she glanced out the picture window and saw Mr. Yummy strolling down the sidewalk, right toward the shop. Her pulse stumbled.

“You should reassess your nick-naming skills, Ro.”

“Don’t be jealous.” Rochie rolled her eyes. “Shake your barista thang.”

“I refused to be called a barista. And I told you before, he’s not my type.”

“Honey, he’s everybody’s type.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe we should add ‘shot of self-esteem’ to the menu.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Rochie thoughtfully. “We could redefine the coffee experience, girl. Charge for extra insults and compliments. Oooooh. We could have devil cups and angel cups, too.”

“It was a joke.”

But Rochie’s thoughts had already flitted off to Idea Land, and she scurried away, no doubt to get her laptop so she could start redesigning cups and figure out what to charge per insult.

“Good morning, Donna,” came the rich mm-mm-good voice of Mr. Yummy. “How are you?”

“I’m doing quite well,” she responded. The butterflies in her belly were imitating Rochie’s crazy dance. She brushed at her pristine red apron, and sighed. Who was she kidding? She had too much of … well, everything to attract the guy’s interest. “The same as always?”

“Yes, please.” He stared at her, the way he’d stared at her every day for the last week. He was seven kinds of gorgeous—and huge. She would guess he was at least six or seven inches over six feet and he was all muscle, all very big spectacular muscle. It was a wonder that T-shirt of his managed to stay intact. Too bad. What she wouldn’t give to get a gander at what lay underneath.

As she made his drink, he followed her along the countertop, watching her progress. Usually she managed to ignore his stare, but today, she couldn’t get rid of the jitters. “Do I have something on my face?” she asked, her tone skating toward impatient.

He blinked. Then he studied her, for much longer than necessary in her opinion, and finally offered, “No.”

She added a dollop of whipped cream, put the lid on, and then carried the latte to the cash register. “That’s five dollars and sixty-three cents,” she said.

He handed her a twenty, which he always did, and when she gave him the change, he put it all into the tip jar.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You are most welcome.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and Donna swore she saw interest flare in those blue, blue eyes. Oh, don’t even go there. Mr. Yummy was the kind of man who scooped up supermodels like she scooped up ice cream.

“Have a nice a day,” she said, and then she turned to go do something—like walk into the freezer until her temperature returned to normal. She wasn’t sure her libido could take being around him for much longer.

“Wait!” he practically yelled.

Donna wheeled back around, and frowned. “Is something wrong with your coffee?”

“No.” He looked at the paper cup in his hand as if he’d forgotten he was holding it. “I want to … that is … zarrati!” He pulled out a notebook from his upper pocket and studied it for a moment. “I wish to do you, Miss Donna Reynolds.”

Donna’s mouth fell open. She was so astonished by his bald statement, that she couldn’t find an appropriate response. She just stood there and gaped at him, while her mind buzzed with scenario after scenario of them doing each other.

Oh, wow.

He looked down at the notepad and then at her. “You are not pleased. I would try the chocolates, but you said you do not like them. Nor do you enjoy the flowers. That leaves only dinner and the movies.” He brightened. “I very much like the movies. Do you?”

At some point, the conversation had taken a left turn into Crazyville. She’d noticed that he’d a strange accent, a combo between French and Irish, and he tended to speak formally. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

He checked his notepad, and then nodded firmly. “Yes. I wish to do you.”

“What the hell! Oh, no he did not. I don’t care how hot you are, Caramel Latte Man, you can’t talk to my girl like that!” Rochie attempted to climb over the counter, dreadlocks quivering, fire in her gaze. Donna grabbed her friend’s shoulder and hauled her back.

“He’s not trying to insult me,” she said. She eyed him. “At least I don’t think he is.”

The man looked horrified. “I would never insult you. And I would kill anyone who dared disrespect you.”

Rochie peered up at him. “Are you for realz?”

“Yes,” he said, his expression confused. He turned toward Donna. “My name is John Vrek. I wish to spend time with you, but I do not understand the purpose of these rituals.”

“Let me break it down for you,” said Rochie. “When you ‘do’ someone, it means you’ve had sex. So you just asked my BFF if you could do the nasty with her.”

“I would very much like to do that as well,” said John earnestly. “But it was my understanding that women here prefer courtship.”

About the Author

Michele Bardsley is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of paranormal romance. When she’s not writing sexy tales of otherworldly love, she watches “Supernatural,” consumes chocolate, crochets hats, reads on her Kindle, and spends time with her Viking hubby and their fur babies.

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