Alien in the House (25 page)

W
E STARTED GETTING UNDRESSED,
rather slowly. Not doing sexy undressing so much as helping each other get our clothes off in a relaxed manner.

I could have wallowed in feelings of guilt or remorse, but reality said that I'd have plenty of time for that tomorrow. Right now, being with my husband in a safe, intimate way seemed like the best idea in the world.

As I hung our coats up, I noted that there was a fedora hanging in the closet. “Huh, the Elves seem to think you're going to need headgear tomorrow.”

“I don't wear hats.”

“Oh, don't be a baby, try it on.”

“No.”

“Yes.” I was now used to dealing with a little girl who already had opinions about her clothing. I put it on his head and took a good look. And kept on looking. “Um, wow. Keep it on.”

“You like it?”

“Keep it on in bed.”

Jeff looked at himself in the mirror. “Why?”

“Um, 'cause you look even hotter in the fedora, if such is possible to believe.” Handed him his trench. “Put the coat back on.”

“I swore to James we weren't leaving our rooms, let alone the Embassy.”

“Am I wearing an emotional blocker?”

“No.”

“Then pay attention and put the coat on.”

He did with an embarrassed little smile. “Okay. So?”

“So, um, wow. Jeff, this is an amazingly good look on you. Like
GQ
cover model good. Like, never take this stuff off good.”

Apparently Jeff was finally paying emotional attention again, because he started to blush. “It's just a coat and hat,” he mumbled, though he looked pleased as well as embarrassed. “I've worn a coat before.”

“Yeah, and you look great in them. But this one's different.” Possibly because of the hat. Because I'd seen Jeff in the standard-issue trench before. Heck, I had one, too, albeit the girl version. On the roof earlier he'd looked totally hot, but I knew some of that reaction was because I hadn't seen him in a coat in a while.

But right now there was definitely something more electric about how he looked. Had to be the hat and trench combo. Resolved to ensure he wore this every single day, even in the summer.

“I don't get why you like this so much.”

“Did you like my wedding dress?”

“Yeah,” he purred.

“Remember how much I loved you in your wedding tux?” He grinned. “Then consider this the everyday alternative.”

“Who knew you were this easy to please?”

“If anyone should, it would be you. Besides, I'm picky. I only take the hottest guy in the world to bed.”

Jeff grinned again, and turned me around so he could unzip my dress. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“As long as it gets me in bed with you still dressed like this, I'll flatter 'til the cows come home.”

Jeff insisted my dress wasn't ruined for life, so I tossed it into the hamper instead of the trash. The Elves had saved worse, after all. Besides, I no longer cared. I had a living fantasy to get back to.

I was still in my bra, underwear, and thigh-highs. Jeff picked me up before I took any of them off. “If I'm staying dressed, you're at least staying partially dressed,” he said, right before he kissed me. “At least for a few minutes.”

Couldn't have told anyone where this particular fantasy came from, but it was incredibly hot to be mostly undressed while Jeff was more dressed than normal. Maybe it was a holdover from our wedding night. Chose not to question because questioning would mean talking and I had other things I wanted our mouths doing.

We were alone in our huge apartment, but we didn't move out of the closet. Of course, our closet was humongous, but that wasn't the point. Jeff shoved our clothes over and then shoved us up against the wall while I wrapped my legs around his waist.

“Mmmm,” he growled as he moved his mouth to my neck. “What's a naughty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Ahhh.” Hey, it was hard for me to talk when Jeff was on my main erogenous zone.

“You're a spy, aren't you?” he asked with a chuckle that sent sexual shivers through me. “You need to be interrogated.” One hand was cupping my behind, keeping me up. The other one was toying with the other side of my neck.

“I'll never tell,” I managed to gasp out, as Jeff's hand started to slide down my chest. He flicked my bra open with one well-practiced movement, then began playing with my nipples. In about three seconds my hips were thrusting against him.

He ground against me, making me moan. He was rock hard, and as he rubbed against me, tongue flicking all over my neck, while his fingers played with my breasts, I locked my legs around him and squeezed. He thrust against me again and an orgasm hit.

“See?” he said as my wailing died down. “I have ways of making you talk.” He bit my neck gently and his fingers brushed the skin on my stomach.

Sometimes I couldn't maintain the sex play for even a couple minutes before I was at the begging point. Usually, by the time the first orgasm hit I wasn't able to do much more than ask for more of them. But today had been long and eventful and full of bad things, and all I wanted was to be taken away to someplace where only fun, sexy things happened.

“I'll resist.” Three syllables
was
my resisting.

“Will you really?” Jeff said, as his fingers slid under my panties. “We'll see about that.”

I gasped as his fingers slid in and over me. He was an expert with this move, and started building me up again almost immediately. I grabbed his face and kissed him, all without losing hold with my legs or knocking his hat off.

Jeff kissed me back deeply and his tongue and fingers occupied so much of my attention that I didn't realize we'd left the closet until he put me down on our bed.

He removed my panties as he straightened up. “Now let's see you resist.”

It was difficult because he looked incredibly sexy, like a gorgeous superspy or film noir detective. Maybe that was what I liked about the fedora and coat. Decided I was thinking far too much, as I sat up, grabbed him by the coat, and pulled him on top of me.

“Maybe you'll be the one answering the questions,” I said as I nipped his ear.

He grabbed my hands and held them up over my head in one of his. The other hand went back to work on my breasts. “Tell me what organization you belong to,” Jeff said with a wicked grin. “Or I'll take whatever I want.”

“Do your worst, I'll never tell.”

“If you insist.” He grabbed my wrists with both hands again, only now he moved my arms so that he had my hands held on the bed next to my hips. “Last chance to tell.”

I knew where he was heading and even if I'd really been trying to keep a secret from him, I'd certainly never share it at this moment. “Never.”

Jeff chuckled as he knelt by the bed. “Then I'll have to make you talk,” he said against my inner thighs.

Couldn't tell you what it looked like, him down there fully dressed, because the moment his mouth was on me my head was back and I was too busy moaning to look at anything other than fireworks going off behind my eyes.

As with everything else related to the bedroom, Jeff was an expert at this, and within moments his lips, tongue, and teeth had me wailing out a symphony of sound. None of it was coherent, but then again, I got my point—do it some more, don't stop, oh God that's so good—across anyway.

Jeff let go of my wrists and slid his hands up to my breasts. This was the last straw, and I went over the edge. A huge orgasm crashed over me and my entire body bucked.

As my body quieted, he stood up and undid his pants. I moaned. Sure, I'd just had two great orgasms. But the ones where he was inside me were always better. The jungle cat look was on his face again as he slid into me and my legs wrapped around him again automatically. “Tell me what I want to hear,” he growled.

“Never,” I gasped out, as he thrust into me, each movement deep and rhythmic. My hips moved in time with him, keeping up as he started to go faster. My hands clutched at his chest and I had to keep myself from ripping his clothes apart or off.

He kept up the growling questions and I managed to keep on saying I'd never tell, as our movements got faster and more frenetic.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked, as I got nearer and nearer to the edge.

“No one.”

“Wrong answer.” Jeff slammed into me and I moaned. The feel of him inside me and his clothes against my bare skin was highly erotic. Huge orgasm had just a little while ago or not, I was building up fast. “Tell me,” he purred against my neck.

“Oh . . . God . . . Jeff . . .”

“That's the right answer.” He kissed me and it was deep, strong, wild. My arms wrapped around him as he thrust even harder and I climaxed again. Jeff growled into our kiss as he joined me. As always, this made my climax spike in time with him, and our bodies shook together for a good, long time.

Finally our bodies quieted and Jeff kissed me again. “You fought a good fight.”

“Oh, I can fight more.” I nuzzled into his neck. “If you make it worth my while.”

He leaned up on his arms. “Do I get to get undressed?”

I laughed. “One piece of clothing at a time.”

“When does the hat come off?”

My turn to do a wicked grin. “Last.”

F
OR AS TIRED AS I WAS,
both physically and emotionally, it wasn't a shocker that I fell right to sleep once we were done having lots more incredibly fantastic sex. Jeff was even fully naked by the time we were done, too.

What was surprising was that I woke up early.

Put it down to the fact that I was now used to getting up with Jamie. Of course, Jeff was still sound asleep, and he was normally up before me.

Looked at the clock. 6:30 in the morning was earlier than early for me, unless Jamie had woken up early for some reason. And Jamie wasn't here.

Neither were the pets. Listened, but didn't hear any animal or bird sounds. Didn't hear much of anything, other than Jeff's rhythmic breathing. So why was I awake?

Rolled carefully out of bed so I didn't disturb him. Gathered up my underwear, his clothes, and the now-beloved fedora and went to the closet. Another fedora and trench were in there. Presumably the Elves didn't want Jeff going out in a dirty set, and also presumably they were clear that I was going to keep him in that outfit as much as possible.

“Thanks,” I whispered to the hamper. I doubted that was where the Elves lived, but my bet was that it was their portal. “Seriously, if you guys want cookies and milk or silver dollars left in shoes or any other kind of bonus, leave me a note where Jeff won't find it. I've got you covered.”

Dumped the clothes into the hamper, put the “old” fedora on top of the hamper, and trotted into the bathroom.

Came out to find Jeff still fast asleep. Worry niggled. What if he'd been hit with whatever Buchanan had been hit with? What if Jeff wasn't going to wake up?

He grunted. “M'wake.” Then he rolled over and went back to snoozing.

Worry abated, I contemplated what I should do with my wide-awake self. I could read more of the Briefing Books of Boredom or the Diplomat's NYC Phone Book. Decided those were only options if I wanted to go right back to sleep. Part of me did, because I doubted I'd had enough rest.

But I was awake, and maybe I was awake for a reason. After all, when the Peregrines had arrived, Christopher and I had been woken up first. Maybe we were getting a shipment from Alpha Four.

Waited. Nothing. So, that most likely wasn't the right answer. Checked my phone. No calls, no texts, nothing. Burner phones were quiet as well.

ACE?
Sure it was probably useless, but I could hope, right?
ACE, are you there? Do you need Kitty?

Waited, but no answer came. Heaved a sigh, but then it had probably been too much to hope for. ACE would let me know when he was back. I hoped.

It was still raining. Maybe there'd been thunder or a heavy raindrop or something. No matter, I wasn't going back to bed.

Put on a robe and went out to the living room, taking my purse and handbag with me. Turned on the TV while I transferred stuff from the handbag to my regular purse. Which was a mistake—turning on the TV, not moving stuff into my purse—because the news was filled with our disastrous party. Hadn't realized I was masochistic, but apparently this was so, as I morbidly flipped through the channels to find out who was covering the story. Everyone was. Go journalism.

Could wake Jeff up and share the “fun” with him, but that seemed pointless. Frankly, waking anyone up seemed pointless. They'd all see and hear about this soon enough.

My phone beeped with a text from my father, asking me to call him whenever I woke up. Well, Dad was up, and I was up, and I desperately wanted to talk to someone. Waited an entire two seconds before I dialed.

“Hi, kitten, you're up early.”

“Um, yeah. Dad, have you looked at the news?”

“Yes. That's why I sent the text. Your mother's still asleep. She got in late and is thankfully sleeping like a rock. She needs it. You need it, too.”

“Yeah, Jeff's still asleep, but I woke up and am really wide awake. And Mom's had a busy few days, hasn't she?”

“Yes, but I don't know all the details.” Dad sighed. “How are you doing, really?”

“I'm okay.”

“Kitty, don't lie to your father.”

“I don't want to whine.” Actually, I desperately wanted to whine, but felt that I was a little old for it.

“That's what I'm here for, kitten. You may be a big girl with an important job, and a husband and baby girl of your own, but you will always be
my
little girl and if I need to slay some dragons for you or defend you from the ravening hordes, then that's what I'm here for.”

That was all it took—the floodworks started. “Oh, Daddy . . .”

Blubbered out a variety of things, mostly related to having Reyes die at my party while holding my hand, and then to have his murderer turn out to be inept and assassinated at the same time. Dad grunted sympathetically at all the right places.

Then I blubbered some more about nothing that really mattered—my dress getting likely ruined, our having thrown another disastrous party, the news asking if we were The Embassy of Death. Dad continued the sympathetic noises with the occasional “not to worry” tossed in.

Proceeded to then sob on about things that did matter—Jeff being forced to become a representative, my being forced to handle being the real, full-time ambassador, my fears about all the variety of unknowns we had going on, Reader being mad at me.

“And when we first moved here I thought Eugene was my friend but he wasn't and now it's like Vance is trying to be my friend and like James isn't and it's so weird and I just miss being a regular person,” I shared as I was winding down.

Dad chuckled. “Kitten, you've never been just a regular person. Even before you met Jeff you were exceptional.”

“Aren't you required to say that under the Parent's Rules and Regulations Code?”

“Maybe, but it's true. You were much more exceptional than you realized.”

“I guess. But I just had a normal job and a normal life.”

“Do you miss it? I mean truly, not just at this moment.”

Considered this. Decided I owed my father honesty. “No, not really. But I miss what I used to do with Centaurion Division.”

“Only because you had a bad day yesterday. You've been settling in well, and now your rhythm's being shifted again. I understand. But, honestly, kitten, as the saying goes, with great power comes great responsibility.”

“Thanks for the Spiderman moment, Dad.” I sniffled. “I know I have a great life, I really do. But right now, I feel like all my friends are doing other things. Not just James and Lorraine and Claudia. But Amy's taking on Gaultier Enterprises, and when she wins, that'll mean she's going to be running that company. Caro's always busy with the senator, especially now. Sheila and I are back down to a text a month to make sure we're both alive kind of thing.”

“You see Charles at least every week, if not every day,” Dad reminded me gently. “And every person you named would be there for you in an instant.”

“True.”

“James may be upset with you, but it's because he cares about you and doesn't want to see you get hurt. He's in charge now, and, as I said before, that means he has the greatest responsibility. That can wear heavy, especially when things go wrong, as they did last night.”

“I guess.”

“Let's be honest, kitten. You had two people you knew murdered in front of you last night.”

“I've killed people, Dad. It's not like I haven't seen someone die before.”

“But there's a difference between killing in battle, killing in self-defense, and witnessing cold-blooded murder. You were hosting a dinner party. People aren't supposed to die at dinner parties unless they're in Agatha Christie novels.”

Sat up. “Say that again, please.” The little idea I'd had the night before seemed clearer.

“It was just a little joke, kitten. I said people aren't supposed to die like poor Santiago did, poisoned in that awful way, unless they're in a murder mystery.”

And suddenly I could see the forest of dense and confusing foliage for the distinct tree branches that were really there.