Excerpt from VAIR: BEYOND THE X-CLUB
I forced a calming breath as a cool evening breeze whipped my auburn-blonde hair, and I inched closer to the curb, peering around the side of my boxes as best I could to avoid colliding with another pedestrian. Twilight was waning, and while the street was active, I was grateful that there were far more popular spots than lower Manhattan’s financial district to seek early entertainment on a Friday night.
Tires rolled to a stop a few feet from the curb in front of me, and I craned my neck enough to make out a black stretch limo—not the cab that I had been hoping for. I started to amble on farther down the sidewalk to where a cabbie would be better able to spot me, when I heard the sound of several car doors opening.
Sure, rapid footsteps fell smoothly upon the concrete in my direction.
Too smoothly.
Some innate self-preservation instinct made my pulse quicken. I had a mad compulsion to drop my boxes and flee. I was wearing my practical two-inch heels paired with a very impractical pencil skirt. It was doubtful I’d be able to outrun a K.
A second later it was too late entirely as I sensed his heat at my back—running along the entire length of my body, blocking out any trace of evening breeze. I froze as the familiar, unnatural scent of inhuman male perfection assaulted my olfaction, bringing with it the memory of the most carnally gratifying night of my life.
Oh, fuck.
My stomach clenched. My nipples hardened. The rest of my body seemed to have a vivid memory of that night as well, judging by its immediate—and mortifying—Pavlovian response to Vair’s mere presence. My inner muscles fluttered in anticipation—slick heat rushing to lubricate my sex.
I reminded my stupid sex that this was the same alien who had just destroyed my career and my life. He was the enemy who had invaded my planet. An enemy who was possibly now here to kill me as well.
Or worse—turn me over to Krinar authorities.
But when warm, long fingers encircled my right bicep, it sent another jolt of sexual electricity through me. And when his other hand latched onto my left hip, it felt oddly reassuring, momentarily calming and centering me as a second set of unseen hands pulled the file boxes from my grasp.
“This way, darling,” Vair’s deep voice instructed from above my head as he bodily steered me in the direction of the stretch limo.
To the person who had confiscated my file boxes, Vair spoke rapidly in a foreign, guttural-sounding language that I couldn’t place. Over my shoulder I just managed to glimpse a tall, beautiful male K dressed in a black suit nodding in assent as he effortlessly hauled my boxes back in the direction of the building where I worked.
Had worked. Wait …
“That’s my stuff,” I protested a little too late. “Where’s he going? Why’s he taking my stuff?”
“Get in the car, Amy.” The command was accompanied by gentle pressure at my crown as Vair physically maneuvered me into the limousine before I had sense enough to put up a fight.
He followed closely behind, folding his huge form gracefully into the luxuriously upholstered passenger cab and taking the seat across from me. The car began moving while I remained stock still—frozen in place amid a mixture of heart-pounding shock, fear, and anticipation.
The moment Vair was settled and his full attention was fixed upon me where we sat, face to face, I blushed. And not just a little flush that could pass for nervousness or be attributed to recent exertion from the heavy boxes I’d carried, either. It was the kind that made my insides flame, my head dizzy, my skin feel sun-blistered. The kind that screamed “guilty” in a court of law.
The sort of blush that broadcast exactly how well I remembered the sensation of him plunging deep inside of me, remembered the sound of his masculine groans and grunts as he’d spent himself within my womb … my mouth … across my back, my stomach, my …
I broke eye contact—for fear of passing out—and let my eyes roam about as if investigating my surroundings. But I barely took in any of it. Every cell and fiber of my being was too acutely aware of the god-like alien sitting across from me.
Watching me.
Jesus, he was so much better looking than my masturbatory sessions had given him credit for! So much bigger. More predatory.
Dangerous.
There was too much room in his enormous limo for just the two of us. Yet not nearly enough space for me to avoid the sight, the scent, the very vibration of his essence in the air surrounding me.
He could be taking me anywhere. Planning to do any number of terrible things to me.
Pull it together, Amy!
“You look hot.” His baritone was light and playful, but it startled me just the same. “Shall I adjust the temperature?”