Reader Abduction (Alien Abduction Book 7) (2 page)

S
tunned
, her heart stopped beating for a second until she realized who threatened. She laughed as she batted the toy aside. “Ha. Ha. You got me. I almost peed my pants.”

He stared at her then his gun. He cocked his head to the side. “Khafhggfghdfgh.”

“You are too much. You really get into these jobs, don’t you? You’re lucky we’re not in Texas. I know some readers who would have shot you for scaring the bejesus out of them.”

His eyes narrowed. “Fgsewghhjrs.”

“We’re alone now, dude. No need to keep pretending.”

His brows drew together in a frown, and his nostrils flared. “Frukx.”

At the familiar alien expletive taken right from Eve’s alien books, she smiled. “Damn, dude. Don’t tell me you read the series? That’s awesome and way more than I expected when I sent in the request to the modeling agency.”

Brigitte kicked the door closed and moved past him, the narrow passage meaning she brushed against him. Such a chore. Such a shivering delight. She’d take her cheap thrills where she could get them.

Grabbing at her waist, he spun her and pushed her against the wall.

Trepidation stole her breath, and her heart hammered in her chest as she realized something crucial that she really hadn’t thought through before—probably because all the blood in her brain went to plumping another part of her body.
I am alone in my room with a stranger.
A stranger who inched closer. Who grabbed the hands she used to push at him and held them over her head.

It occurred to her that she might have done something monumentally stupid. “What are you doing?”

Pinning her body to the wall apparently. His bulky frame pressed against hers, lots of thick, muscled flesh. What she couldn’t understand was, despite her fear, excitement also thrummed within her.

When was the last time I let a guy get this close?
She could have kicked herself for her excitement. She should be fighting him off, not melting at the heat spreading through her limbs.

His head dipped. “Hlgsghhgg.” The rough consonants tickled across her lips hotly.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say. Why not speak English to me?”

Or French. That was her only startled thought before pleasure took over. Who could blame her as he slanted those lips against hers?

While they might appear full, they weren’t soft. The guy commanded her mouth, drawing her lower lip between his for a suckle. Cajoling her mouth to open for the probe of a tongue.

As the ever quirky Robyn Peterman would say, “Sweet baby Satan in a hula skirt,” talk about freaking hot!

She inhaled sharply at the erotic sensations just a simple kiss evoked. The man was a master, that or all her previous lovers were seriously lacking.

He kissed her with obvious pleasure, worshipping every millimeter of her lips. A hard thigh nudged her legs apart and pressed against her, rubbing against her core.

A part of her insisted she should push him away. What kind of self-respecting woman let a total stranger manhandle her? Apparently, this one did. It seemed her slutty side wanted to protest them not getting laid in a while. It thought it eminently flattering that this hot dude seemed determined to have her enjoy his excellent erotic technique. Her slutty side told her prissy moral half to bugger off.

Let me enjoy this.
Because really, when, if ever, had a man been so overcome with desire for her that he treated her like a heroine in one of the books she loved?

And this was so totally like something out of a book by smut queen, Milly Taiden. Super hot guy overcome with lust for the often-overlooked big, beautiful woman.
Give me more.
She clutched at his shoulders and let her own tongue dance back into his mouth.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted them.

Noooo! Make them go away.

Slowly, he pulled back from her swollen mouth. He stared at her, his eyes a brilliant blue that almost seemed to glow. Wow, the things they could do with contacts these days.

“Zhsggfdhr.”

“I’m hoping you just said you’re dealing with that because I don’t think I can move right now,” she muttered through kiss-swollen lips. Boy oh boy, did his embrace pack a punch. A good thing the wall held her up because her wobbly knees certainly wouldn’t.

A masculine smile of satisfaction stretched his lips. He might not want to speak English, but apparently, he understood it.

He went to the door and opened it. She couldn’t understand the murmur of words, but she did notice the distinctly male tone. The door shut with a click, and he returned to stand before her. He held up a copy of the schedule. He pointed to the ad she’d helped design.

Galactic Dinner and Surprise Event.

Get taken away on an alien adventure courtesy of Eve Langlais and some special guests
.

“Yes, that’s your event. I told you that you arrived a tad early. It doesn’t start until seven.”

He nodded. Tucking the brochure under his arm, he used his free hand to tilt her chin. He smiled, the appearance of his fake, pointed teeth not as freaky as one would think. Even better, he managed to kiss with them and not bite off any of her important parts.

He pressed a firm kiss to her lips, one that immediately set her pulse to racing again. It lasted only a few seconds. Bummer. Pulling away, he turned and moved for the door.

“Hey, where are you going?” Because that wasn’t the direction to her bed.

Such a bad girl.

Such a disappointed girl because it was so not happening.

He didn’t turn around, but waved the schedule in the air over his shoulder before exiting. She could only hope that meant he wouldn’t be late.

I’d prefer if he didn’t show at all.

Shoot her. She knew it was wrong to not want any other attendees at the conference to ogle his awesomeness.
I want to keep him to myself.
And maybe indulge in another panty-wetting kiss.

Speaking of panties, she should change into some fresh ones along with her outfit for the evening. After all, as Eve often exhorted, you never knew when an alien in search of a mate might come along. With quick strokes, she’d posted a twitter hashtag.

Wearing clean undies. Going to an alien party. #readyforapurpleabduction

W
here is he
?
As the dinner portion of the evening waned—a most delicious, thick, and juicy chicken breast served with grilled asparagus bathed in a buttery sauce with herb-roasted potatoes—Brigitte shifted in her seat.

“Do you have ants in your pants?” S.E. Smith teased. A good thing Brigitte had met her before dinner or she might have blushed and stammered. This romance conference really had a lot of her favorite authors attending, like S.E. Smith, who wrote the most delicious series featuring dragon lords. Very yum.

“Just hoping everything goes all right tonight.” Really, really hoping. More than once, Eve had asked Brigitte if she was sure the hired aliens would show. It wasn’t as if Eve was being bitchy. As a matter of fact, knowing Eve, she’d laughed at their being late and joke a reader had abducted them on their way here.

Which is a distinct possibility.

“No one had better have abducted him.” The words emerged a little more heated than expected.

An arch of a brow let her know Eve noted her reaction. “That hot, is he?”

“More than you could imagine,” she muttered.

“Well, here’s to hoping he’s not being held prisoner.” Eve tilted a glass in her direction in a toast before she took a sip of the water. She set it down and then placed her dinner napkin on the table. “Time to get the next part of this shindig done, eh. People are almost finished with dessert, which means time for the main event. Hey, Viola,” Eve shouted over to another table.

Wearing a freaky pair of dragon-eyed lenses, Viola Grace, a prolific writer of things alien and paranormal, turned her attention their way and shouted back, “What do you want?”

Eve placed an artistic tinfoil creation upon her crown and smiled. “Thanks for the hat. I’m going to need it to make sure the aliens don’t control my mind tonight.”

“Too late,” Viola teased.

“Okay, here I fucking go.” With a characteristic f-bomb, Eve stalked over to the DJ to steal his microphone, the skirt of her Sith lord dress swaying. Totally cute, but Brigitte had gone with a different kind of hero for her outfit, one that spoke in beeps, clicks, and whistles. It matched the ringtone on her phone—this geek girl loved the “Imperial March” and all things
Star Wars
.

“Eve!” Milly waved at her. “Want a hand?”

“I always want a hand from you.” Eve hugged the microphone and winked at Milly before letting out a husky laugh. “But, my dear friend, you had better put on your hat first. As a matter of fact, I’d suggest anyone who doesn’t plan to get controlled by aliens tonight put their special tinfoil helmet on.”

Only a few authors put theirs on. Viola, being superbly artistic, sported an intricately twisted one that towered fantastically. Robyn looked quite jaunty in her cap with the bobbing Martian eye stalks. The ever-gorgeous Cynthia St. Aubin wore a form-fitting crown with a jutting spiral horn. No surprise, the woman was obsessed with unicorns.

Milly look absolutely adorable in her aluminum creation folded and bunched to look as though she wore a pair of demonic horns. It went well with her flame-colored gown. There was a woman with style. It made Brigitte want to pilfer her closet.

Instead of coveting Milly’s wardrobe, though, she decided to do her job. “If you’ll excuse me, while she does the intros, I’m going to look for tonight’s special attraction.”

Shoving back her seat, Brigitte rose and headed to the hall just as Eve boomed in the microphone, “Thank you for coming to this year’s Romancing the Capital. Eh.”

Laughter followed as Brigitte exited to the hall in time to see the back end of a stud wearing skintight, black leather pants going into the coatroom. Odd because she didn’t think they had access to that spot.

She quick-marched in that direction, her red-painted toes—a slutty red because, dammit, she did so like pretty little piggies—stuck out from her sandal Crocs. Yes, she’d chosen comfort over sexy heels. Sexy implied a woman could walk in them. She wobbled and truly feared twisting an ankle. Besides, she’d come to the reader romance conference to have fun, not to try and impress an impossible guy.

Love me, love my choice of comfortable footwear.

Love?

Try lust. Super lust that gave her the bravery to hunt him down. Actually, knowing she had a roomful of excited readers waiting for a night they would never forget made her determined to drag her purple hunk out and hope he’d brought along the two other guys they’d commissioned. Before she could reach the door to the coatroom, the elevator opened and a hint of mauve caught her eye.

She turned and blinked. “What the hell?” The curse slipped past her lips as three guys swaggered from the elevator, one of them sporting the most ridiculous purple dye job and cheap-looking, white jumpsuit stamped to look like an astronaut. How incredibly tacky.

“Hey, babe,” said the guy with blond hair, straight white teeth, and light violet eye shadow unevenly layered over his face. “Which way to the porn writer thing?”

Oh, he did not just say that.
If there was one thing guaranteed to band romance readers together and give them the voice to defend their choice in literature, it was asses calling it porn. She drew on all sixty-five of her inches. “It is not porn. It’s romance. It’s about connecting with the right person.” And sometimes dragons. Lots of awesome dragons a la Coreene Callahan. “Maybe you should read one before you make a comment.”

“If he knew how to read,” one of his companions snickered.

A glance to the side showed the guy who had spoken had made even less effort with his costume. He’d used dark blue cream to cover his complexion. It appeared unevenly spread and moist-looking to the point she wanted to give him a facecloth because there was seriously nothing sexy about him in that bad makeup job.

“Read this.” The blond ringleader cranked his middle finger.

Spare me.
“If you’re done being children, can I ask what you’re doing here? I don’t see any registration badges, and unfortunately, without them, you’re not allowed to attend this event.”

“We were hired to work this thing. Apparently, the broads in charge wanted us to dress like purple space dudes,” a high-pitched voice claimed. The third alien pretender had put some effort into his look. Hair slicked back with gel, thick eyeliner, and mascara lining the eyes. A face streaked in colors ranging from blue to purple to green, in a shimmery, glittering rainbow.

Very well done, but not purple. And what was with the vampire fangs?

A heavy sigh huffed from her. “I don’t get it. What happened to the other guy who was here earlier? The one who actually looked like what we ordered.”

A frown creased the blond fellow’s brow. “What guy? Who are you talking about? It’s just me and my two buds here. And don’t dis the makeup. I mean, who the hell wants a purple-skinned dude with no nipples?”

The kind of reader who wanted to escape the doldrums of the real world for a life of adventure among the stars with a hot mercenary hunk.

“You were hired to do a job, and I can see that’s not going to work.” Their belligerent attitude toward the books she loved wouldn’t fly. The readers would tear them apart, and not in a good way. “I think you should go.”

“You can’t send us off. We have a contract.”

“You’ll still be paid. Have a good evening.” She remained polite.

He did not. “I’m sure it will be better than hanging around a bunch of freaky women looking for purple dick.”

Okay, so perhaps she was a little frazzled and definitely insulted, but she still probably shouldn’t have slapped him.

A real man would have laughed at her puny little smack.

But this pompous boy had yet to learn to laugh at life—and take a hit like a man.

Still, though, a wee slap was no excuse for him to grab her wrists tight enough to bruise. He didn’t stop there. Yanking her hard against him—not the same kind of experience as the one with another certain purple pirate—he snarled. “You better hope you didn’t leave a mark. I’ve got a photo shoot tomorrow.”

She hoped she’d not as well. Violence wasn’t something she did, but she knew how to apologize. “Sorry.”

“Are you? Maybe you should show me how sorry.”

She gaped as his crude come-on brought him closer. Creepy. She pulled at the hand tethering her. “Let go of me.”

“Why? You should thank me. When was the last time a chubby like you got this close to a hot guy?”

Try this afternoon. Except she didn’t have time to reply because a deep voice from behind said, “Jhffdfl.”

Her real purple alien model had returned. Now say that fast five times. “There you are. I was beginning to wonder.” She peeked over her shoulder to smile at him.

He didn’t return it, but glared at the blond imposter holding her wrist. She couldn’t believe these three guys thought they could sneak in and try to ruin the evening.

“Who the fuck are you?” the pretender asked before shoving her to the side.

She might have tumbled if not for the quick grab by her hot purple guy. He anchored her with an arm around her waist, tucking her into his side. “Gghshar.” Said with a deep chuckle.

A peek at this face showed his lips stretching in a wide smile, revealing his pointed teeth. Why did he seem so happy?

Whack
.

For the second time in less than a few minutes, her jaw dropped again as her purple kisser decked the asshat. Decked him so hard and fast she never saw his fist shoot out. Yet it sure connected, right on the jerk’s nose. He proved his less-than-heroic mettle when he screamed like a little girl.

She’d read enough romances to know heroes let out manly bellows.

The guy’s buddies bristled. “Hey, man, what the hell is your problem?”

Her rescuer beckoned them with his fingers, and if possible, his smile widened. Ridiculously hot and so like something out of a book. Sigh. She wished she could videotape the moment. She sure as hell would picture it later when under the covers.

Instead of manning up and rushing her purple guy, the party crashers grabbed their buddy and fled back to the elevators. But before the doors closed, the one with the bloody nose threatened, “I’ll be back with the cops, asshole. I’m going to have you both charged with assault.”

She couldn’t stop her middle finger from flashing him. A rumble went through the tall dude as he chuckled.

Tilting her head, she shot him a grin. “Don’t worry. If the cops come back, I’ll tell them he deserved it. Heck, you’re a hero, rescuing me like you did from those jerks. You came in the nick of time. I don’t know who those guys were, or what they thought they’d accomplish, but thanks for sending them packing.”

From the ballroom, Brigitte could hear Eve still talking. “So, now that we’ve thanked all kinds of people, and most especially you, the readers, for being so fucking awesome, I think it’s time I revealed this evening’s surprise.”

Loud applause met her words.

“This year I’ve got a super-duper treat for you. Who likes aliens?”

A roar of, “Me!”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Purple!”

“And are you wearing clean underwear?” Eve whispered the words huskily. “I am. Pastel pink granny ones that are so freaking comfortable. But then again, I’ve got a hubby at home, and this night is about all the single ladies. Or the ones looking for something new. Are you ready for adventure, dear friends?”

“Screw adventure, how about a happily ever after that is out of this world?” Milly shouted.

Screams met her words.

Eve chuckled. “For a happily ever after, we need romance.”

“And lust. Never, ever forget the lust,” shouted Zoe York. Now there was a writer who knew about lust. Brigitte owned more than a few of her steamy romances.

“Ah yes, the lust. Funny you should use that word because, tonight, I am going to show you a living, breathing version of that word. I am going to give some of you the thrill of a lifetime. The fantasy come true. I. Give. You. Purple.”

At the carefully enunciated words, Brigitte slipped from the purple hunk’s grasp, not because she wanted to, but because that was his cue. “Come on, hot stuff. Time for you to make your grand entrance and make those women believe you’re about to abduct them and take them to the stars.”

Leading the way to the ballroom, she made it only a few feet before she squealed. The reason? A certain bold pirate grabbed and upended her over his shoulder. Using a long stride, and without any sign of exertion, he strutted into the ballroom, carting her fireman-style.

It was ridiculously hot, unexpected, and the conference attendees loved it. They erupted into rabid cheers.

“Oh my God, he’s purple!”

“Lucky girl!”

“Me! Take me!”

Meanwhile, Brigitte knew her cheeks were beet freaking red—and not just the ones on her face, but those exposed by her short skirt, too! Her fault in a sense because she’d worn a cute superhero dress she’d picked up at a trendy store in an outlet mall. When she’d bought it, though, she never expected to get manhandled. The short skirt on it rode high on her thighs, revealing her black cotton undies. Clean ones, thank goodness, almost new, too. Logically, she understood she remained covered—after all, her bathing suit probably exposed more—but she still wanted to die of embarrassment because of the possessive hand splayed across her full cheeks.

A big hand.

She peeked down.

Oh yeah, big feet.

Back went her mind into the gutter with no chance of her getting it back for a while, especially if he continued to hold her so decadently.

Much as she might claim embarrassment, she couldn’t help a certain spurt of excitement at his manhandling. She’d never had any boyfriends carry her around. Definitely never had one put his hands on her so intimately in public.

Of course, Eve thought the entire thing was hilarious, and since she held a microphone, everyone could hear her bubbly laughter. “I see the abduction has begun early with my lovely assistant. I do hope those panties are fresh.”

They had been when she’d put them on. Not so much anymore. Brigitte could only hope he didn’t smell the arousal soaking the crotch.