Authors: Charlene Teglia
Earth Girls Aren’t Easy
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Earth Girls Aren’t Easy Copyright © 2007 Charlene Teglia
Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower.
Cover art by
Electronic book Publication August 2007
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Earth Girls Aren’t Easy
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the
mentioned in this work of fiction:
Federal Express Corporation
Kraft Foods Holdings, Inc.
knew his visit to Earth was going to include a few surprises when he crash-landed in Puget Sound. A minute miscalculation on his entry speed into the planet’s atmosphere had sent his ship rocketing through the air and into the water instead of the silent and all but invisible approach he’d planned. The resulting sonic boom and arc of light that marked his ship’s trail before it submerged were the direct opposite of unobtrusive and low profile. He could easily imagine what his lord
lady Micki would say about his entry. “Why not just put up a neon sign that says
The Alien Invasion Has Begun
A smile curved his mouth in spite of his situation. It was impossible to think of Micki without smiling. She was responsible for his visit to Earth. She had the capacity to form the psychic bond that made her a much-coveted and
. And where there was one, there must be more. She could not be the only psychically sensitive woman of her race. Since
had so far failed to find his one, the woman whose mental wavelength matched his own and who could form the lifelong bond with him, he now sought her here.
And in case he failed to discover her among the women of Earth, he had the lady
latest manuscript to deliver. His trip would not be wasted no matter what he found here. So long as he could avoid being discovered as a visitor from another world on a planet that was not allied with the seven space-faring races.
His best hope,
decided, was that his spectacular entrance would be mistaken for a meteor. He shut down all ship’s functions other than essential systems like life-support, settled against the ocean floor, and engaged the device that cloaked his ship against multiple methods of scanning. Unless an underwater vessel or diver moved almost directly over it, his small craft’s presence should go undetected.
A search of area radio transmissions brought a burst of reports that a large meteor had lit up the skies of Seattle before it crashed into Puget Sound. Military channels gave similar results.
didn’t exactly relax, but he breathed a little easier as he prepared to leave the ship and make his way to the city. His first errand must be to deliver the manuscript as promised.
would then be free to explore the possibilities Earth offered.
* * * * *
Angela Robbins made another double skinny decaf latte and nearly bit a hole in her tongue to keep from asking what was the point? Skim milk instead of rich cream? Decaf instead of a caffeine kick to get the blood pumping? And to add insult to injury, the woman had asked for vanilla
. Vanilla. The un-
. The sugar-free version, too, so even the sweetness was fake.
But she was a professional, so she kept her opinions to herself, smiled, handed over the paper cup full of denial and thought,
So help me God, I will never order a fake drink
Nothing but the real thing, all the way. In fact, she could really go for a caramel macchiato right now. Rich, smooth, hot, the
of cream and dark roasted beans and sweet caramel melting on her tongue… She nearly moaned out loud at the very thought.
She closed her eyes just for a minute, really enjoying her mini-fantasy break now that Fake Coffee Customer was gone, taking her fake boobs and fake hair with her. She imagined
the heat and sweetness and opened her eyes to find herself staring at a chest.
A large male chest. With some serious muscles. The chest, six-pack abs and
biceps that sported intricate tattoos were displayed more than covered by a leather vest.
Angie gave an internal sigh even as she admired the sight. She knew what a physique like that meant. Weightlifter. Body Nazi. The type who wouldn’t defile the purity of his temple with caffeine, sugar or cream.
Another fake drink coming up. She wanted to scowl and forced herself to smile as she raised her eyes to meet his. It seemed like they had to travel a long ways to get there and the terrain was so nice to look at that she didn’t hurry, and by the time her brown eyes made contact with deep blue, the smile had turned genuine.
“What is car-a-
macchiato?” Bodybuilder Man asked the question in a deep voice that slid over her skin like a caress and Angie fought the urge to respond with something completely unprofessional and inappropriate.
“An espresso drink,” she managed to say instead. “My
. Highly recommend it. It’s probably against your workout plan, though.”
He frowned at her, looking tall, blond and puzzled but undeniably gorgeous. And built. Then the frown smoothed away and he smiled. “Ah. You think I am too disciplined for pleasure.” He leaned a little closer and said in a low voice, “It is my discipline that will ensure
Angie blinked and shook her head to clear it. Because no way had she just heard right. “Excuse me?”
“I do not think I will.” His smile widened and then Angie had to grab onto the counter because out of nowhere pleasure shot through her,
around the sensitive flesh between her legs, and burst into a supernova of an orgasm, taking her from a mild buzz of interest to shooting over the edge of
in about half a second.
She clung to the counter, staring stupidly at the customer who wanted something from her, something that came in a cup with a sleeve so he wouldn’t burn his fingers, and she’d think of whatever it was in just a minute. Any minute now. Right after she got a hold of herself and figured out why she was having hallucinatory orgasms at work.
There is no need for you to get a hold of yourself,
the thought formed in her head. And it didn’t sound at all like her own internal voice. It sounded like the stranger in front of her.
It will be my pleasure to take hold of you.
Angie gulped audibly. “Excuse me,” she managed to say without stuttering. She was repeating herself, but the aftershocks between her legs were interfering with her ability to find words and string them together. “I think I’m coming down with something. Mattie will take your order.”
Do not be afraid of me
, the strange voice in her head said.
Something new was happening to her now. Warmth enfolded her from the inside out, a sense of deep peace and comfort and assurance
. Stay with me. Make for me the drink you so desired. Make one for yourself as well. Share this pleasure of your world with me.
Angie took a deep breath. She had no clue what was happening, but a coffee break sounded like a very good idea, and she wanted a macchiato,
She also wanted another orgasm because she hadn’t had one of those in longer than she cared to remember, but sex was complicated. Coffee was simple. “Okay,” she said to the stranger, who she shouldn’t want to spend her break with but she was going to do it anyway.
,” the man said. “My name is
. Now we are not strangers.”
,” Angie repeated. “Two caramel
And after she’d taken her break and drunk her coffee, she could make an appointment for herself with somebody who would take her blood pressure and tell her to lay off the chocolate covered espresso beans and she’d stop hearing voices and having imaginary orgasms. Then she could get back to leaning on the Seattle police to find out what had happened to her missing friend.
According to her
, Micki had been abducted by aliens, but then Larry probably thought Angie was an alien. And not the kind who came over the border from Mexico, either. Larry wasn’t a reliable source of information.
Thinking of Micki usually made a knot of tension and worry form between her shoulders, but for some reason Angie felt relaxed and calm as she worked the espresso machine and produced two perfect caramel
with exactly the right amount of foam. Muscle Man was going to love it, Angie vowed, and never drink decaf or skim milk again.
, the voice in her head said.
My name is
. Although it pleases me that you admire my body.
Hearing voices was a very bad sign, Angie knew, but somehow she couldn’t seem to get upset about it. Instead she placed the two cups on the counter, told Mattie she was taking a break and walked around to join
, who waited for her with a cup in each hand.
“It pleases me that you will share your break with me,” he said. His smile was easy and genuine, and Angie found herself smiling back at him.
He indicated a table in front of a love seat in a corner and Angie started to tell him it was taken, but before she could open her mouth, the couple sitting there got up and left the coffee shop.
Weird. But sometimes timing was just like that, Angie decided. They must have decided to leave, and they’d done something that
had noticed that told him the table he wanted was about to be empty.
Because the alternative, that he’d sent them away with a mental command, didn’t bear close consideration.
Since her knees were still weak from the visceral hallucination that had left her inner muscles quaking and her panties damp, Angie folded herself onto the couch without hesitation and held her hand out for her cup.
gave it to her, fingers brushing in the process, and the warmth of his touch sparked entirely too strong a response for such an inconsequential social contact.
she scolded herself, and started to sip. Caffeine, that was all she needed. Clear the cobwebs.
“You are Angela,” the big blond hunk said, looking at her as if she was some exotic vision and not a perfectly ordinary, medium-tall, medium-curvy woman with brown eyes and curly brown hair.
Angie knew the total package was attractive enough, but far too girl-next-door to stand out in a crowd. Still, it was nice to be looked at that way. If he wanted to consider her exotic, he was welcome to his own hallucination. Since she was having them herself, she was in no position to judge. “That’s what the name tag says,” Angie agreed, taking another sip of caramel-
heaven on earth.
“I do not know you from the name tag,” he informed her. “Micki sent me to deliver a package to you.”
Angie nearly spilled the macchiato. “What?”
“Micki. Michelle. She has finished her book and she directed me to give the manuscript into your hands. She says you will have the right address to send it to.” He smiled at her as if he hadn’t just dropped a conversational bomb and then detonated it over coffee.
“You know where Micki is? Where is she? Is she hurt? What have you done with her?”
“I have done nothing with her.”
looked surprised at her outburst. Then his expression turned thoughtful. “Well, that is not true. I did something with her, but I assure you, it was her wish. She says to tell you she is fine, and I will give you my word that she truly is.”
Angie took another sip and forced herself to think. This man said Micki was fine, and he had the manuscript. That meant the book was done, and Micki couldn’t have finished a book in two weeks unless she really was okay. Maybe there was a note or some kind of explanation with the book?
“There is a note for you,”
volunteered. “Do you wish to read it?”
“Yes,” Angie said. “I wish to read it. Now would be good.”
He handed her a flimsy plastic sleeve and she gave him a look of disbelief, then shook it out and saw
scrawling writing filling the sheet. “You ran out of paper?”
“The manuscript is printed to specifications,”
said, looking insulted. “But this is a personal note. Do you not prefer to see her writing to a printed page?”
“Never mind.” Angie’s thoughts were racing like hamsters on a wheel. Where was her friend? Why the disappearing act? And did Micki have something going on with this hot blond guy? Because if so,
really needed to stop flirting with other women or Angie was going to kick him in the shins. Even if she liked his flirting. Taken meant taken.
She had lots of questions. Hearing voices and having imaginary orgasms wasn’t exactly helping her concentration, either. Since she wasn’t going to get answers any other way, she focused on the page.
When she looked up from reading, she saw the
was staring at his cup as if it contained the wonders of the universe. When he caught her eye, he said, “This car-a-
macchiato, I must keep a sample to replicate.”
“Sure,” Angie said. She looked down at the handwritten plastic page again. She tried to put the facts in order mentally, gave up, and decided to think out loud. Maybe it would sound better that way. “Micki went away to finish her book.”
“She has gone away, yes,”
agreed. “And she required much solitude for writing. She was very pleased to be finished. She wished to be assured that I would find you and have the package sent by her deadline.” He scowled, looking for a moment like a six-foot-plus teenager. “It is a simple enough errand. She need not have concerned herself over it. I have found you, you will send the package,
will be satisfied.”