Alien Breeder's Bond: A Scifi Alien Romance Read online

  Alien Breeder’s Bond

  Tammy Walsh

  Contents

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  1. Emma

  2. Vai

  3. Emma

  4. Vai

  5. Emma

  6. Vai

  7. Emma

  8. Vai

  9. Emma

  10. Vai

  11. Emma

  12. Vai

  13. Emma

  14. Vai

  15. Emma

  16. Vai

  17. Emma

  18. Vai

  19. Emma

  20. Vai

  21. Emma

  22. Vai

  23. Emma

  24. Vai

  25. Emma

  26. Vai

  27. Emma

  28. Vai

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  Alien Breeder’s Claim Sneak Peek

  1. Ava

  2. Kayal

  Also by Tammy Walsh

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  Emma

  “He’s staring at you.”

  “Who?”

  “Him.”

  Olivia nodded toward a distant corner cloaked in shadow.

  A figure was momentarily highlighted by a passing strobe light.

  It was one of Olivia’s many unique quirks.

  Only she could be somewhere as busy as this nightclub and notice a single pair of eyes focusing on her.

  Or in this case, on me.

  “He’s not looking at me.”

  “Sure he is. I know hunger when I see it and that guy looks like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. If you play your cards right, you might be on the menu.”

  I slapped Olivia on the arm.

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  Olivia shrugged her exposed shoulders.

  “I’m honest. Maybe they’re the same thing.”

  Despite myself, I was intrigued.

  Of all the stunning girls in the place, why would he be interested in me?

  I picked up my mojito and, so as not to look too interested in him, took a sip and peered over the glass’s rim.

  The dancers writhed like a giant coiled beast on the dancefloor, and as they drifted apart, they left a narrow gap.

  I caught sight once more of the figure cloaked in shadow.

  I couldn’t make out his features well in the dim light.

  Was he really looking at me? I wondered.

  I shook my head.

  I made a fart sound with my lips and took another gulp from my mojito.

  “He’s not looking at me,” I said resolutely. “He could be looking at anyone.”

  Across from him were two separate tables of gaggling hens.

  Each of the ladies was hot and did nothing to disguise their obvious interest in the stranger.

  They smiled coyly and seductively at him in equal measure.

  A temptress in a slutty dress made a comment and the others at her table burst out laughing.

  The guy just sat there, either not hearing their comment or pretending like he hadn’t.

  He should have.

  After all, I did.

  I didn’t know if the girl said it intentionally to coincide with a break in the music or not but that was how I came to hear it.

  “He hasn’t got eyes for you,” she’d said. “He’s looking at her.”

  Poison might have dripped from the last word.

  The girls shot looks at me, both insulting and derogatory.

  They ran their eyes over me, eyeing me with disdain in an attempt to figure out what it was about me the stranger found so attractive.

  Olivia ground her teeth so loud I could hear it.

  She shifted her weight to roll up onto her feet and confront the ladies at the other tables.

  I placed a hand on her forearm.

  “Don’t.”

  The last thing we needed was a scene.

  And that was exactly what Olivia was capable of when someone got her goat.

  “Ignore them. They’re just a bunch of tarts.”

  Of course, that was when the music died down to another quiet lull, and my comments sailed audibly to anyone who cared to listen.

  The ladies spat ugly comments, thankfully covered by the swelling music.

  The mystery stranger’s hand curled around his single beer bottle, the muscles in his arm turning tight.

  He still hadn’t taken a swig from it yet.

  His eyes were fixed firmly in my direction—I mean, our direction—and didn’t even blink.

  Olivia leaned in close and whispered in my ear.

  “You should go speak with him.”

  “And embarrass myself? I don’t think so.”

  “He’s obviously into you. What do you have to lose?”

  “How about my self-esteem?”

  Olivia made a fart sound with her lips.

  “Self-esteem? You haven’t had any of that since you graduated.”

  I was twenty-three, fresh out of college, and working a desk in the research department of the same university I’d graduated from.

  I hadn’t put much thought into what I wanted to do next, so when the research position came up, I applied and was surprised when I got it.

  As most of my friends were still at school and wouldn’t graduate for another two years, I decided to stay on.

  At least this way I could enjoy being a student a little longer before heading out into the big wide world with them.

  In the meantime, I could earn a little money on the side.

  The only drawback was the fact that as I was the only one with a full-time job it left me to pick up the tab every time we went out.

  I didn’t mind.

  It wasn’t like I had anything else to spend my money on.

  No serious job, no steady boyfriend.

  If I headed over there and spoke to the random stranger staring at me—I mean us—would he turn me down?

  I wasn’t sure I could take the rejection.

  I didn’t exactly have the best record.

  So maybe now was the time to break the chain.

  Did I want to be this shy around guys forever?

  No, I decided.

  There was a benefit to this guy not knowing who I was.

  Meeting new people meant you had a chance to experiment with becoming someone else.

  I downed the last of my drink and slammed it on the table.

  I nodded to Olivia.

  “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  “Um, I’m not sure you need to.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s heading directly toward us.”

  I turned to peer back at the stranger.

  Only, he was no longer there.

  He was crossing the dance floor.

  Toward me.

  I mean, us.

  He had a hypnotic way of walking.

  He seemed to glide as if his feet never touched the floor.

  The lights strobed, blinking blue, green, yellow, all the colors of the rainbow.

  Each time the lights blinked, I caught another feature that took my breath away.

  His high cheekbones that pulled taut at the skin of his face, giving him the sharp threat of a fashion model.

  His wide mouth, ideal for kissing, was curled into a
semi-smile as if he was in on a joke that only he knew.

  The dimple on his cheek matched the one on the tip of his narrow chin.

  He hadn’t shaved for a couple of days and it gave him a rough but manly appearance.

  He didn’t need it.

  His chest was broad and tapered into a narrow waist, his shirt was navy blue but appeared black when the lights shifted.

  The cuffs were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows.

  What caught my attention most was his eyes.

  Dark.

  Hooded.

  Seductive.

  The overhead lights cast shadows across his face that danced but didn’t disclose their emotion.

  Instead, they teased me with how little they revealed, enough to stir my curiosity but not to satisfy it.

  “I’ll, uh, leave you to it,” Olivia said.

  “No…” I said, suddenly losing my nerve and reaching for her.

  She slid smoothly out from behind our table and disappeared into the throng of writhing bodies.

  What sort of friend left a girlfriend behind when a man—an unknown man—approached her in a club like this?

  A good friend, a voice in the back of my head said. A damn good friend.

  The stranger came to a stop before my table.

  I looked up at him and my throat turned dry.

  He peered at me with those invisible eyes cloaked in shadow.

  My words—what words?—lodged in my throat.

  “Would you like to dance?” he said.

  That hint of amusement remained in his eyes.

  I wondered if Olivia hadn’t put him up to this.

  I wouldn’t put it past her.

  No guy had ever approached me like this before.

  Least of all one that looked like him.

  “I’m not much of a dancer,” I warned.

  “That’s okay. Neither am I.”

  He extended a hand.

  It was big, muscular, the kind used to physical work.

  Was he a soldier?

  A laborer?

  Did he work on a nearby farm?

  I didn’t know.

  But I did know there was something unusual about him, something that drew me in.

  Had I met him before? I wondered idly.

  I was certain I would have remembered if I had.

  I placed my hand in his and it swallowed mine.

  He helped me onto my feet and led me to the dance floor.

  What the hell am I doing? I thought frantically. I don’t know how to dance!

  And now there I was, pretending like I could!

  I couldn’t.

  I’d fall flat on my face and that would be the end of it.

  Everyone would laugh at me.

  The end of my life, my career, my very existence.

  It wasn’t like I could escape it either.

  The whole event would follow me wherever I went.

  I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down.

  I was panicking and losing control of myself again.

  The doctor warned this would happen if I put myself under stress.

  And that was exactly what I’d done.

  Why did I think I could pull someone like this tall, handsome stranger?

  I couldn’t.

  I wasn’t anywhere near his league.

  I should just turn around and leave right now before the worst of the damage was done.

  The stranger—and I still didn’t even know his name—placed one hand on my hips and, looking deep into my eyes, took my hand and placed it on his waist.

  A shiver shook me to my core.

  My mouth felt dry.

  I might as well be chewing sand.

  It was the first time I’d seen his eyes directly.

  They were big and beautiful—the lightest shade of brown I had ever seen.

  Gold, I gasped. His eyes are gold.

  My breath caught in my throat and I swallowed my protestations.

  We began to dance.

  He led—thank God—and turned me in a circle, his arm wrapped tightly around me.

  He didn’t move like the other dancers.

  Where they jumped and shouted and hollered, we were quiet, calm, and graceful.

  In total control.

  My attention shifted to the other dancers around us.

  I felt so self-conscious I couldn’t enjoy the moment.

  I glanced over at the twin tables of horrible ladies who’d taken an obvious fancy to the stranger.

  Their eyes glinted with cold malice.

  I was right, I thought. I shouldn’t be here.

  I was a bookworm at heart, preferring to curl up beside a roaring fire with a heavy tome in my lap.

  My face burned with embarrassment and I turned to leave the dance floor.

  “Excuse me,” I said, sadness dripping from every word.

  The stranger caught my arm and spun me around.

  He held me so close I could smell his aftershave.

  It was a heady mix of something foreign.

  It made my head spin.

  The stranger placed a finger under my chin and raised it so he could peer into my eyes.

  “Look at me,” he said. “I want to watch you.”

  Yes, sir.

  I was vaguely aware of the ladies sitting at their tables, only now, they weren’t laughing.

  There was nothing funny about the way he looked at me.

  A smile curled one corner of his lips and his hand wrapped around my neck.

  My pulse quickened and I wondered if he could feel it too.

  He was so close, his lips within inches of mine.

  And yes, I ached to feel them on mine.

  He angled forward and I shut my eyes, raising my face to meet his lips.

  Then I felt them.

  An explosion of color and light lit up inside me like a firework.

  Something prodded deep in my chest, something that’d lay dormant my entire life.

  The stranger caressed my lips and probed with his tongue.

  I allowed him entry and met his passion with my own.

  I squeezed his hand and gave myself to the kiss.

  I felt the hard bulge in the front of his pants, pressing against me.

  I rubbed my legs together and felt myself grow slick.

  When we finally parted, I panted for breath and placed a hand to my chest.

  My heart pounded faster than a racehorse.

  The stranger placed a hand to his own chest and must have felt that same racing rhythm.

  We shared a smile.

  I covered my mouth with a hand and giggled.

  I couldn’t help but glance over at the other tables and noted with satisfaction the jealous ladies wore irritated grimaces.

  I turned back to the handsome devil that’d ensnared me in his net and knew without a shadow of a doubt our meeting wasn’t a random thing.

  It was preordained.

  We were meant to meet.

  We were meant to kiss.

  Another flush spread across my cheeks.

  And with the way I was feeling, I got the sense we were going to do a whole lot more before the night was over.

  “Would you like a drink?” the stranger said.

  “Sure. And do you know what I would like even more?”

  “What?”

  “Your name.”

  “Iav.”

  “Iav?”

  For some reason, another shiver rushed through my body.

  “What’s your name?” Iav asked.

  “Emma. My name’s Emma.”

  “Nice to meet you, Emma.”

  Then Iav did a very strange thing.

  He bent down and kissed me on the hand.

  “Another mojito?” he said.

  His thumb gently caressed the back of my hand and his eyes—my God, those eyes!—drilled into me, pinning me in place.

  “Um, uh, yeah, yes,” I managed. “Please.”

  His smile curled t
he corners of his lips into a full grin and, not taking his eyes from mine, he said:

  “I like it when you beg.”

  “I’m not begging,” I wanted to say, but the words died on my lips.

  A ripple of goosebumps ran through me, a knock-on effect from the earth-shattering kiss we shared.

  I hadn’t begged but I knew right then and there I would if he told me to.

  What was happening to me?

  Vai

  Seeing her sitting with her friends in the club made all the effort to find her worthwhile.

  She was beautiful with shoulder-length hair and a smile that lit up the room.

  She was dressed in a bright yellow dress half a shade darker than her hair.

  Stunning.

  To think I came this close to dying on the slopes of the Wailing Mountain, this close to never setting eyes on her.

  I shivered at the memory of the unbearable cold as I scaled the Wailing Mountain’s sharpest slope.

  My body strained against the wind that pummeled me from every direction, seeming to come first from the left, then the right, then directly ahead.

  But never from behind.

  It couldn’t be seen to aid me in my mission up the sheer cliffs.

  The mountain had battled me every inch of the way.

  Sometimes it shoved me forward before sweeping my feet out from under me.

  Nothing was easy when it came to scaling the mountain.

  Nothing but succumbing to death.

  And many had.

  Too many.

  The mountain was said to be home to the spirits of those who’d fallen on its slopes, failing to make it to the summit.

  They were said to be the origin of the mountain’s name.

  It wasn’t the wind that wailed but the souls forever trapped on its snowy tips.

  They would never reach the summit, would never learn the identity of their fated mate.