Wrong Alien (TerraMates Book 6) (2 page)

"I don't believe it," I said, folding my arms over my chest.

"You don't have to believe something for it to be true," she said, opening a drawer in her desk and taking out a tablet. "What I was going to say was that we have a very high rate of satisfaction among our women. Please fill this in."

"How do you know I want to apply?" I said. "Especially after what you said about me?"

She looked at me for a moment. A tiny smile appeared on her withered face and she looked amused. I wondered what her story was. How had she become such an unpleasant person? The smile disappeared quickly, but I wouldn't forget it.

I didn't think a person like Mrs. Lynch knew how to smile.

"How do I know you want to apply?" She studied me closely. "Because you didn't walk out when I said you were ugly, my dear."

She pushed the tablet across the desk towards me and stood up.

"After you complete the forms, come down the hall. We have a nurse on staff that will perform your medical examination. There's one more thing."

"Yes?" I said blankly.

"You didn't ask, but your compensation is five hundred thousand credits. I suggest you don't do it for the money. That sort of thing never works out."

I stared at the door long after it had closed. Eventually, I gazed at the tablet. I reached out and turned it on, watching my hands move by themselves.

Everything about TerraMates was crazy. But 500,000 credits would pay for everything. Still, being a mail-order bride felt like prostitution no matter what the contract said. I knew I should get up and walk out the door right now. I wasn't really going to do this, was I?

But a tiny part of me knew that I was. I was sick of this life. I was sick of never getting anywhere. And I was sick to death of wishing and hoping for my dreams to come true and never seeing them happen.

I wasn't going to wish and hope any longer. I was going to make my dream of becoming a teacher a reality. And it was only going to take a year.

No doubt it would be an eventful year, but maybe that was a good thing. I had never left my hometown. I worked six days a week. I was tired. And I felt old, like I had never lived.

This was going to be an adventure and the beginning of a different life.

That's when I knew I had already made the decision. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the thought.

I was getting married.

JESSE

"Father, I have no desire to get married." The fire on the hearth crackled in the background of our conversation.

"Then you have no desire to take over the farm."

"There must be another way to satisfy the requirements."

"There is no way but marriage. The law explicitly states you must have a wife to inherit while I am alive, and with good reason. You cannot expect to raise and train a herd of hundinlark without assistance."

"The help could be anyone. I could hire a worker."

"You know hundinlark require a very sensitive touch, and they respond better to women. You can't have a bunch of men caring for your herd. I'm sorry, son, but they'll be better if a woman raises them."

"Why can't I hire women to work for me?"

"You know they won't do that, and none would work for you even if they would work for someone else."

"You're being ridiculous."

"That's not what years of tradition say."

"I don't mean it's ridiculous that hundinlark respond better to women. I mean the rest of it."

I stood up and paced while my father sat calmly in his chair by the fire. The house had been part of our family for generations — since The Before Times.

"It doesn't matter what you want. You cannot inherit the farm unless you have a wife. Period. End of story, son. Why are you suddenly upset now? It has always been this way."

"Not always, Father. There was a time when we had choices," I said. I knew I was heading into dangerous waters, but I couldn't stop myself.

My father raised his eyebrows. "You don't want to return to our lifestyle before The End, do you?" he asked. "That way led to our civilization's destruction. Millions of people died. All of our cultures were nearly snuffed out in an instant. And it was due to freedom and..."

He wouldn't say the word technology but I knew that's what he meant. I wasn't afraid of a word.

"It was not the technology that pushed the button, Father," I pointed out. I stopped on the hearth so the side of my body that faced the fire was burning hot and the side that faced the room was cold. "It was just a person."

"But it did create a situation where one person could destroy everything with a button, Jesse."

"I know, Father. I don't want to go back in time. But I do wish we could abolish some of our oldest customs that no longer make sense. One of these is the requirement of marriage to inherit the land."

"Well, it's not you or me that will do away with them. That's for the king and the council to figure out. Perhaps it will be the queen who will decide, if King Murtaugh is as ill as they say. Marsaline will make a good queen if he ever gets out of the way. We are fortunate she is only a second cousin, and not closely related to him. We will have a very different reign if she ever takes the throne. You will, at least," he added, dropping his eyes.

"Do not speak that way, Father. I will find the best healers to tend to you. You will live to see your grandchildren."

He smiled sadly. "Would that I could, Jesse. It will be enough if I see you take over the farm before I die. Do you not desire a wife? Many lovely girls live in the village. There must be someone there who has caught your eye."

I had plenty of desire for the young women of the village; unfortunately, they had no desire for me. The odd one would lie with me. Perhaps she thought I was handsome, in spite of my past, or maybe a friend dared her to.

None would consider marrying me. A man with my reputation would not make a good husband.

"It is not a case of desire, Father, and you know it."

"Jesse, your transgression was long ago. It was the mistake of a boy."

"They haven't forgotten, and none of them would consider my proposal. I don't intend to humiliate myself by asking," I said, drawing myself up straight.

My father frowned. "Perhaps you are correct about changing the old customs," he said. "It's not right for them to continually punish a good man because of something that happened in the past. Have you considered marrying outside our village?"

We looked at each other. We both knew that if no one in my village would have me, the chances of a stranger taking the risk were slim to none. Even if such a woman existed, she was not the kind of woman I wanted as a wife. I sat down on a wooden bench and put my head in my hands.

"It is impossible, Father."

"Jesse, I cannot continue to run the farm," he said, his eyes hungry with desperation. He coughed hard while I stood by helpless to assist him. "I am too ill."

"I know, Father. I know."

"And if I die without you inheriting our land, someone else can acquire it."

"I'll think of something. I won't let strangers have our farm."

He sat back after the coughing fit. He looked different these days; he seemed old and tired.

"See that you do, Jesse. There is nothing more important to me than keeping the farm in the family."

"I will."

He nodded. His eyes started to close, and I left him. It was time for him to nap after dinner.

My father could not bear to think of our family's hard-earned hundinlark farm being turned over to the hands of strangers who would never love it the way the Melnyks always had.

I would find a woman. It couldn't be that hard.

After the fourth fruitless week of traveling to all the villages in the nearby area, I was beginning to wonder if I had been overly optimistic. I knew I was going to need help — and not the legal kind.

I walked into the inn and looked around. The innkeeper was standing at the bar, polishing glasses. The place was still empty because it was early afternoon.

"Can I help you?"

"Perhaps," I said. "I'm looking for a man called Porter."

"Porter? What's his family name?"

"That's his name. He goes by Porter."

"Oh, that one. He usually comes in around dinnertime. If you want to speak to him, you'll need to return later." He eyed me suspiciously. "Why do you want to see him?"

"I'm an old friend visiting the area, and I wanted to have a pint with him."

The innkeeper didn't believe a word I said. "Whatever you say, stranger."

"I'll see you again."

The man nodded and watched me all the way out the door. I could feel his gaze boring into my back as I went outside.

Porter was my oldest friend. I had known him since we were ten. We had been through some tough times together. One day, he disappeared, and I never knew where he went.

The rumor was he was on the run from the Bureau, but I never got confirmation. I had never tried to find him.

That was before. Now I needed him, and I had tracked him here. I was sure he was the only person on Yordbrook who could help me with my problem.

A few hours later, I was at the inn again with a pint of ale in front of me. When Porter entered, he was laughing with a bunch of men who were listening to a story he told. Only Porter could simultaneously be hiding out and remain the center of attention. He glanced around the room and looked at everyone briefly. He didn't react, but I knew he had seen me.

I finished my drink and got up to leave. I knew he would follow when he had the opportunity. I waited in the clearing nearby where I heard he conducted his transactions, my cloak wrapped close around me and my hood drawn up to protect against the drizzling rain.

After a while, the area around me was becoming dark and the rain had stopped. I thought about going back to the inn and finding my bed. Perhaps he couldn't come tonight. As I was about to give up and leave, I heard footsteps approaching me, and a woman softly giggling.

When the couple entered the clearing, I recognized Porter immediately, but not the girl on his arm.

"Melnyk. How are you? It's been too long," he said, coming forward. We embraced and he clapped me roughly on the back.

"Why did you bring a woman?" I whispered before he stepped away.

"Last time you wanted a woman to lie with you and not look at you like you were a Renegade. I assumed you wanted it again. She's already had enough morelia. She doesn't care who you are as long as you have a cock to fuck her."

His response was unexpected. "I wanted a woman, not a whore," I said.

"She's not a whore," he said. He sounded offended. "She's the miller's daughter. She's had a few drinks, and you know how horny morelia makes the women. They get uncomfortable if someone doesn't fuck them. You better take her voluntarily before she makes you."

I looked at his companion. She was sexy, and it had been a long time. She smiled at me in a way that made me instantly hard.

I thought about lifting her skirt. I could bury myself inside her and have her hot wetness clench around me when she came. Morelia ensured loud, ecstatic orgasms. There wasn't much for the man to do. Just put it in and fuck. It didn't take long, either.

Porter was a good friend.

"Okay, but wait at the inn. I need to speak with you."

"Excellent," he said, pounding me on the back again. "It shouldn't take long. Look at her. She's already panting."

She was. Her hands were on her breasts, and she was playing with herself. I couldn't resist going to her as Porter left. She didn't say a word, only pulled me in for a kiss that was hot, wet, and included a lot of tongue.

I pulled on her dress, and her breasts spilled out. I had to taste them. I bent to take one in my mouth. She moaned. She was a live wire.

After only a few minutes, she was begging me to fuck her and desperate to have me inside her. I pushed her up against a tree and raised her skirt. She stuck out her bare ass toward me, trembling with desire. I touched her. She was dripping wet and slippery. It had been a long time for me.

I slid into her slowly to allow her body to accommodate me. She was a small woman, and I was a fairly big man. She moaned and writhed under me as I penetrated her, but soon I was in as far as I could penetrate.

Then I did what any man in my position would do. I fucked her until she came. When we finished, I walked her back to the inn, put her to bed in one of the rooms to sleep, and left a bag of coins on the bedside table.

After I had cleaned up, I went to find Porter. I needed to thank him for the woman and ask him to help get me a wife.

"Well?" he said when I joined him at his table. He grinned at me and waggled his eyebrows. "She's good, huh?"

"Amazing," I said. "Was the morelia her idea or yours?"

"Hers, of course. She was hoping to get me to fuck her, but the idea of a new guy interested her more."

Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrows.

"She likes her sex, and she's too young to get married. She appreciates it when I come to town for a roll in the hay...or the grass...or the bed. She doesn't care where, as long as she comes. She likes morelia because it guarantees an orgasm for her."

"She's not old enough to wed, Porter? That's playing with fire. And I don't particularly want to get burned."

"You mean you don't want to get burned
again
."

"Maybe," I said. "Next time bring me one who's of age."

"There's gratitude for you," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'll do the best I can, but I'm not running a store here."

"It must be nice to have a girl in every village who's willing to spread her legs for you," I said, unable to keep the resentment out of my voice.

He shrugged. "There's always women who want to come to and in my bed," he said.

I shook my head. "Not so much for a Renegade."

"I'm not the one who found a piece of technology and hid it," he said, laughing at me. "You were fifteen. That's old enough to know better, Jesse." He shook his finger at me, like an elder.