This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing,
Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a
heat rating
of
Totally Burning
and a
Sexometer
of
3.

CLOSEST ENCOUNTER

E.G. Wiser

Special Agent Beth August is sent to investigate an object of mysterious origins. What she uncovers could send the world into an orgy of apocalyptic proportions.

A strange object of alien origin has been found and the Department of Ufology has sent its top agent, Beth August, to investigate. Once there, she meets Brad Davis, a handsome security guard with a secret of his own. Together they both succumb to and struggle against the object’s aphrodisiac powers, eventually finding themselves in a race to prevent the world from exploding into sexual anarchy, even as the two of them grapple to understand how much of their own mutual attraction is due to an
unexplained supernatural energy and how much is the more natural chemistry of two people falling in love.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Thermos: Thermos LLC

Jell-O: Kraft Foods Group Brands LLC

Old Spice: Proctor & Gamble Company

NASA: National Aeronautics and Space Program

Facebook: Facebook Inc.

Chapter One

Beth August felt it the moment she stepped out of her black government-issued sedan. A tingling somewhere behind her forehead that crawled down her face and neck like a mild electric shock. The feeling spread out as it reached her chest—professionally contained as it was in her well-tailored black suit—and intensified as it moved lower and deeper inside her.

She hadn’t expected this. This was only in the warehouse parking lot. The object that she was investigating was still at least a hundred yards and several steel doors and walls away. But she’d read the stories in both the official and the unofficial reports—vague accounts, from questionable sources mostly, but there had been enough for the governor to send her down for a look.

Beth wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand.

It was a warm day but not that warm. The sweat was from something else—from the thing inside the warehouse.

She walked toward the front door of the warehouse, every click of her heel on the walkway like the tick of a clock counting down to something… What, exactly, she did not know.

At the door she hit the buzzer, waited for a minute. There was some small commotion inside—a sliding of bolts, a turning of keys. Finally the door opened to reveal the security guard.

He was the single best-looking security guard she had ever seen. There wasn’t even a close second. He looked like the guy they would use for the cover of a security guard catalog. Black hair, broad shoulders, strong jaw. In fact, he was the person they would have rejected for the cover for having too much sex-appeal.
Get me someone blander
, the editor would have shouted to his much-put-upon assistant.

“Can I help you?” the sexiest security guard in the history of time said. His lips were of the sort of fullness Beth preferred, which was to say, enough to be pronounced—to seem always a fraction away from forming a pout—but not so much as to seem petulant or anything less than masculine.

“I’m from the state,” she said, surprised at how her own voice broke a little, like she was a schoolgirl startled by the school’s star athlete while simultaneously trying to remember her locker combination. But she was not a schoolgirl. She was Beth August, Special Agent from the state’s Department of Ufology, and she was not a woman whose voice was in the habit of breaking. She attributed it to the strange tingling sensation.

She flashed her ID and swallowed hard to clear her throat of any more residual ridiculousness. “Someone should have told you I was coming.”

The guard stood back, held the door open, smiled.

“I was told,” he said. “But I didn’t even know the state had a Department of Ufology.”

Beth shrugged, entered the building. “The governor watches a lot of TV,” she said.

“So do I,” the guard said. “Still didn’t think the state had any Department of Ufology.”

“Maybe she watches different stations than you do,” Beth said.

“She must.”

Inside, the tingling sensation was about ten times stronger. Her panties became slightly damp.
What the hell is that?
And the tall and handsome guard wasn’t helping matters any. She could practically feel the heat of his body from where she stood. And the scent of him—some faintness of cologne with a more natural, manly scent on top of it.
Jesus, he practically smells like sex.

“Do you feel okay?” the guard asked.

“Sure,” she said, not very convincingly.

“It makes you feel funny,” he said, his face breaking into a sheepish, schoolboy grin. “I noticed it right away, but it’s gotten stronger since then. We used to have about a dozen more guards in the building, but they all turned out to have…uh…trouble…controlling themselves…”

“Controlling themselves,” she repeated, dabbing her forehead with the back of her hand.

He nodded slowly.

Has anyone ever made a nod look sexier? How is that even possible? It’s a nod, for chrissake…

He looked down at his feet, spoke in almost a whisper. “Sexually.”

“Could you be more specific?” she asked. “I read something in the reports but it was a little vague.”

“Well,” he said. “Um…”

“Go on.”

“One of the guards…Tom…was found…um…pleasuring himself in the cafeteria. With…uh…sort of with a ham sandwich.”

“Listen”—she read his name tag—“
Brad
, this will probably take a lot less time if you worry a little less about offending me. I’m a big girl, and you’d be surprised at some of the things I’ve had to deal with in the department. It’s not all alien abductions and cattle mutilations, you know. There’s a fair amount of probing too.”

“I’m sorry, Agent August, but you don’t seem that much of a big girl to me.”

Beth just looked at him without speaking, trying to figure out how Brad meant his words to be taken. Probably not as badly as they sounded to her at the moment.

“Okay, Brad,” she said, the tone of her voice conveying her displeasure.

“I don’t mean you’re not a grown woman,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” she said.

“And you’re not small, exactly. Where it counts. In a good way, I mean…” He actually glanced at her breasts at that moment, and she realized then that her nipples were pushing out hard against her blouse beneath the jacket.

They were, in fact, good breasts. She had always been proud of them. They were a part of herself that she never bothered to keep hidden from lovers—not too big or too small. Firm and upwardly pointed. They’d been complimented more than a few times. Her ass was perfectly fine, she knew, and her general shape well within the parameters of what was considered attractive, but her breasts she knew to be truly exceptional. Was Handsome Security Guard Brad talking about those?

There seemed to be a fog of heat in front of her face to go along with the tingling of her flesh and it occurred to her that a part of her was already imagining pushing her hands into the spaces between Brad’s buttons and tearing open his shirt. She wanted to place her warm mouth on the nipples of what she knew had to be a firm chest, to undo his belt and pants, reach a hand down in there to wrap around a cock whose hardness she could sense even now.

She held this all deep inside her, made her face a serious, placid mask of departmental professionalism.

“So, Brad,” she said, “are you saying I’m just a little girl with big tits? Am I following you correctly?”

“Dear God no…” he stammered.

“A big girl with small tits?”

“What? No… Not that. They’re fine. Great… I mean… You’re great. Perfectly… I’m…uh… Crap.”

“Relax, Brad,” she said and couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll give you a pass on this one due to the possible influence of supernatural energies. My point is this. Just tell me what happened in the simplest language possible. Don’t worry so much about what is going to make me blush and clutch my pearls. I’ve heard it all, seen a lot and done plenty. What happened to the other guards? The ones that weren’t caught fucking a ham sandwich in the cafeteria…?”

He laughed with a kind of nervous relief. Beth noticed that some amount of perspiration had made its appearance above his lips and brow. She repressed the impulse to lick it off.

“Well, that was Tom,” he said. “With the sandwich. Then there was Theresa and Joe who were found in the stairwell…”

“Fucking?” Beth offered helpfully.

“Fucking seems a bit too mild a word for what they were doing. Let’s just say that a number of orifices were involved—and at least one security baton.”

“Okay, that’s three guards down.”

“Margo was another case of inappropriate masturbation.”

“Sandwich?”

“Thermos.”

“Ouch.”

“In her defense, it wasn’t a very big Thermos.”

“Okay.”

“I mean, I’ve seen bigger.”

“Okay. That’s four.”

“Jenn, Mike, Denise, Brian and Scott were all found together in the parking lot.”

“Must have been a big car.”

BOOK: Closest Encounter