Close Encounter of the Carnal Kind Read online

  Close Encounter of the Carnal Kind

  Delilah Devlin

  Copyright © 2016 Delilah Devlin

  Kindle Edition

  Etienne Lambert, a Cajun ex-soldier fresh from the horrors of the war in Iraq, discovers that he’s an alien when an alien woman arrives at his door to take him home. When he resists, she kidnaps him. He soon learns he is the last potent male in the royal line of their planets, and it’s his duty to return to sire the next generation of the ruling caste.

  Marika is a fightership commander who has succeeded where all the mages, seers, and trackers have failed. She has found her planets’ last hope for salvation! When the future king demands that he start work immediately on the primary mandate of his rule—to sire children—she can’t refuse his command.

  From the Author

  To those of you who’ve read me before—hello, friends! To new readers, welcome to my world!

  As you’ll discover, I tend to bounce around in different genres, from contemporary to historical to paranormal to sci-fi—all are very sexy, so be warned. I also write in many lengths from short story to full-length novel. If you can’t tell, I love to write. And when a story is fast, it’s short. If my characters need more pages, well, you get the picture.

  I love hearing from readers and have a very active blog and Facebook friend page. I run contests, talk about my favorite TV shows, what I collect, what drives me crazy. I ramble a bit. I’m doing it right now. But if you’d like to learn more about me and what I’m doing or writing about, be sure to check out the “About Delilah Devlin” page after the story.

  And if you enjoy this story, please consider leaving a review on your favorite retail site or simply tell a friend. Readers do influence other readers. We have to trust someone to tell us whether we’ll have fun when we open a new story!

  Sincerely,

  Delilah Devlin

  Visit www.DelilahDevlin.com for more titles and release dates, and subscribe to Delilah’s newsletter at newsletter.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  About the Book

  From the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  About Delilah Devlin

  Planet Desire Series

  Excerpt from the Pleasure Bot

  Chapter One

  ‡

  Through the swaying branches of the cypress trees that nearly choked the night sky, Etienne watched a light descend—a yellow-orange ball of fire—so large and bright he wondered how the air he breathed wasn’t singed. He stiffened against the instinctive need to dive for cover.

  “Ooo-eee, we know where Uncle Jacques will be tonight,” Arnaud murmured, popping the top of his beer can and taking a long draw, his gaze following the light as it slowly passed overhead from north to south.

  Etienne looked down on his brother, who sat in a wicker chair with his feet propped on the porch rail, and smothered a curse. “So long as he doesn’t go blabbing to the National Enquirer again about seeing aliens, I don’t care what he does.”

  “Does seem to be all dat man can talk about. Bad enough he tol’ dem ’bout da aliens takin’ him away, but to tell da world what dey did after?” Arnaud’s expression turned glum. “Family still hasn’t lived dat one down.”

  Etienne winced at the reminder. “No doubt he’ll be in his pirogue all night on the bayou, looking for them. You’d think he’d be hiding.”

  “C’est vrai!” Arnaud shook his head. “Any man gets his dick pulled and his ass probed and talks about it to everyone after—dat man has no shame at all. No wonder Leticia left him.”

  Etienne nudged Arnaud’s chair with his good foot, nearly unseating him. “You make it sound like you believe his story. Uncle Jacque’s crazy as a loon. Always has been.”

  Arnaud shrugged, looking sheepish. “Yeah, but you weren’t here. You didn’t see him—all sunburned on his face and lookin’ rumpled and tired—like he’d laid a dozen whores. He couldn’ stop talkin’ ’bout it. Don’ think he slept for days afterwards.”

  Etienne grunted. “But what exactly did he say? I found an Enquirer in the PX after I spoke to you. He didn’t say what the aliens looked like or anything about the ship.”

  “Yeah,” Arnaud snorted. “Only dat dey wanted babies—wanted to mate wit’ him.” Arnaud gave him a look full of wicked mischief. “But your name did come up, big brother. Maybe dem aliens be lookin’ for you, now.”

  Etienne gave him a searing glare. “And that’s why I haven’t been to town. It’s a good thing he didn’t share that part of his story with the reporter. I might shoot anyone who showed up on my porch uninvited.”

  Arnaud shook his head. “You see? Dat’s your problem. You lost your sense of humor. Did the Army knock it outta you?”

  Etienne slumped onto the chair beside Arnaud and set his cane against the porch rail. “Something like that,” he muttered, wishing his brother was anywhere but here, but the man hung around like a hungry mosquito. Buzzing and talking too damn much.

  “You know, you come back from dat desert, and you don’ say nothin’ ’bout what you seen—what happened. Maman be worried for you.”

  Etienne glanced out over the still, black water. The words were there, right at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t push them out. Instead, he shoved away the bleak memories. “It’s over. I’m back. Leave it at that.”

  “Are you back?” His brother’s dark eyes glittered with concern in the dim light cast by the single bulb hanging from the rafter above. “You ain’t da same man you was before. Hell, you don’ even talk like one of us no more.”

  “I’ve been out in the world, Arnie. Took advantage of college benefits. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

  “No t’anks. Not if it means I come back grumpy as an alligator. Speakin’ of which…”

  The wicked gleam returned to Arnaud’s eyes, and Etienne stiffened. He knew his brother well enough to know he planned mischief.

  “Tell you what. How ’bout we go down to da Possum Palace tomorrow and wrestle us a gator? The tourists love it when we strip down and get dirty.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe get us some Yankee tail.”

  Etienne stared down at his leg, stretched straight in front of him.

  “You could sit at poolside—just take off your shirt and show da girls dose muscles you got. Dey take one look at you and your bum leg—you get all da pussy you need to make you happy again.”

  “Pussy isn’t what I need. I need rest,” Etienne said, gritting his teeth.

  Arnaud sighed. “You rest—and mope. You just got back and now you hide in da swamp in your cabin. I’m not goin’ to let you do dis to yourself for long.”

  “Give me a few days, Arnie,” Etienne said, keeping his tone even and quiet, when all he wanted to do was rail—at Arnie, at his shattered leg, at the bastards who’d taken his friends out with an IED.

  His brother stood and stretched his arms above his head, still staring at the light, when suddenly, it blinked out. “What you think it is?”

  “Fuckin’ swamp gas, if anyone asks,” Etienne shrugged. “I know what it isn’t. It’s no alien spaceship.”

  *

  Etienne leaned forward, cuddling his beer between his hands, letting the silence wrap around his jangled nerves. Here in the swamp, in a hunting cabin filled with happy memories, he hoped to finally shrug off his soul-deep sadness. He loved his brother and family, but he didn’t want to invite them into the dark place he’d been forced inside ever since Tekrit.

  Arnaud had left half an hour before, frustrated and hurt. Etienne knew it, but couldn’t reach out to his brothe
r, not yet. Maybe a few more days of staring out at the green, wet world around him would drown the memories of the sun-baked dirt that drank his buddies’ blood like a thirsty sponge.

  He needed time to fit back into his old life. He snorted at that thought—like he’d ever really fit in to begin with. Taller by a foot than his brothers and pale-skinned to their olive, he’d often wondered if he hadn’t been traded in the bassinet at birth. And he’d never been satisfied with what life offered him in the bayou—which was why he’d enlisted in the first place.

  A twig snapped nearby, and Etienne froze. As if he’d never left Iraq, time slowed, and in one long moment he realized the crickets had stopped their raucous chirping, and the owls no longer called to one another—he had a visitor.

  Etienne eased from his chair, ignored the cane, and slid into his cabin. The gun, already loaded with shot to pepper any reporter’s ass, stood next to the door. He reached for it.

  Footsteps crunched closer then climbed the wooden steps just as he swung back around with the shotgun cradled in his arms and stepped forward to block his doorway. But the woman who strode toward him wasn’t like any reporter he’d ever seen. She was easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever encountered.

  Her smile was tentative as she stopped directly in front of him. Her gaze widened as she stared upward for one long moment. Then she drew in a deep breath, lowered her gaze, and knelt at his feet, pressing her forehead against his thigh.

  Etienne felt a frown furrow his forehead, wondering what the hell was going on. He tried to nudge her away, but she grasped his calf and clung, speaking softly, the words guttural and lilting at the same time. Definitely not English. Not like anything he’d ever heard in his travels.

  When she rose, her eyes glittered with moisture, which she quickly blinked away. This time the smile she flashed was joyous.

  Etienne’s suspicions roused, and he glanced out into the darkness, wondering whether he was the butt of a joke and not liking it one damn bit. Was Arnaud responsible for this?

  The woman in front of him was fresh-faced, her expression too open and innocent-looking to be real. His glance raked over her body. She was clothed from her neck to the tops of her shiny brown boots in a skin-hugging material that looked soft as suede leather, as soft and golden-brown as the large eyes she raised to stare up at him.

  Color crept over his cheeks as he realized he’d stood frozen in place, transfixed by the woman’s beauty. Beautiful or not, innocent or not, she didn’t belong here. “Cher, you can turn right around and go back where you came from,” he said, the words coming out less harsh than he’d intended.

  She smiled and started to speak again, and then rolled her almond-shaped eyes. She lifted her fingers to her ear and tugged at the shiny stud stuck in her left lobe. “Sorry ’bout dat. I forgot to turn on my translator,” she said in a Cajun accent.

  Not a reporter, not with that accent. And yet, not from around her by the tone of her skin. Etienne sighed and propped the shotgun beside the door. “All right, who put you up to this? Arnaud?”

  She shook her head, which shivered her long, dark hair around her shoulders. “Didn’t Jacques tell you?” she asked, her expression falling. “He was s’posed ta give you a message.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I haven’t seen him since I returned. But you can tell him: thank you very much, but I’m not interested—however attractive you are, cher.” He turned to reenter his cabin.

  A small, slim hand clamped on his forearm. “But you don’ understand how important dis is—”

  Etienne shrugged her off, ignoring the plea in her doe-like eyes. “Look, I’m sure you’re very good at…whatever it is you do—”

  “I’m da best!” she said, eagerness shining in her face. “Dat’s why I’m here.”

  “Fucking hell! I can’t believe he thought I needed a whore,” Etienne muttered under his breath.

  “A whore?” The woman’s face screwed up with a look of confusion. “Wait, I think I’m not translatin’ dat word correctly.”

  “This is a joke, right?” Etienne blew out the breath he’d been holding since she appeared. “He sends you in that space costume, and you’re supposed to do what? Give me a ride?” His eyes widened, and he jerked back a little. “You’re not expecting to probe my ass, are you?”

  “Only if you won’ surrender your sperm, Sire,” she said, a blush rising to her cheeks. “I can assist you…” Her voice trailed off, and she nibbled at the edge of her full lips.

  “I just bet you can,” he murmured, wondering why he was fighting this so hard. The woman was a knockout. She was tall and slim-hipped, with small, round breasts. Any one of his old buddies would have given a month’s pay to slide between her thighs.

  As he appraised her attributes, her nipples beaded beneath the soft, thin leather. “Perhaps you need a little foreplay ’fore you gimme your semen?” she asked, with a flirty tilt of her head. She straightened and thrust out her chest, but the effect was robbed of vampdom by her girlish smile. She was one hell of a confusing, yet alluring, package.

  Jacques knew what he was doing. If she’d carried the odor of the streets on her, he’d have sent her on her way in a heartbeat.

  Etienne felt his anger waver. Her skin was creamy-pale without a hint of tan, her pores so fine he knew her cheeks would be as soft as a baby’s. He wondered if the rest of her would be as soft. This close, he could smell the fragrance clinging to her skin—like almonds mixed with a musky floral scent that tugged at his cock.

  The woman shifted on her feet as he stared, and then squared her shoulders. “We’ll never know until we get dis done.” She reached for the fly of his jeans.

  “Wait a minute…” His hand closed over hers to halt her.

  She looked up, a question in her guileless gaze.

  “Where the hell did he find you, sweetheart?” he murmured, staring down at her. A dimple dented one cheek. A damn dimple.

  “Oh, I found him.”

  Her grin was childlike, and it angered him that she was playing with him. “Was he drunk when you fed him that line about surrendering his semen?”

  She tilted her head to the side, her smile faltering. “Line?”

  Etienne swore beneath his breath, patience at an end—restraint beyond his control as angry anguish exploded inside him. He gripped her waist hard, pulling her toward him. If his uncle thought a prostitute would prod him from his blue funk, who was he to argue? He certainly hadn’t managed on his own. Maybe this was what he’d waited for…

  Her mouth opened around a startled gasp, which he breathed in as he sealed her mouth with his.

  But her lips didn’t move beneath his. When he opened his eyes, he found her wide-eyed gaze staring back at him. He pulled his head back. “Kiss me,” he said, his voice gruff. “This is what you came for, isn’t it?”

  “I came for your sem—”

  He didn’t want to hear her story again and slammed his mouth down to shut her up.

  This time she pressed back, sliding her lips beneath his. Her kiss was soft and tentative, drugging to his jaded senses. Her breaths came quick and excited, puffing into his mouth. Despite the fact, or perhaps, because she wasn’t very good at kissing, an electrical charge of heat pulsed throughout his body, tightening his loins.

  Etienne groaned and pulled her body flush with his, grinding his cock against the soft cleft he found between her legs.

  Her hips jerked then pushed forward, finding his rhythm, sliding her sex against his as she moaned into his mouth.

  With her breasts mashed against his chest, his shaft riding her mons, Etienne drank from her lush, feminine mouth. The softness trembling against him soothed and excited his soul. He hadn’t known how badly he needed this—needed her—until this moment. He sank into the kiss, spearing her mouth with his tongue, sweeping inside like his body ached to burrow into her sweet flesh.

  But she wasn’t the answer to his problems—she wasn’t even here because she wanted it. Good old Uncle Ja
cques had sent her.

  Etienne realized he was only fighting himself. He’d wanted solitude to lick his wounds, but his family seemed to understand that deep down he needed to be touched.

  This woman’s soft hands were as good as any. At least she wouldn’t be expecting him to spill his guts. He broke the kiss and pushed her back. “Go ahead,” he said, releasing her hand. “Take my semen,” he bit out, bitterness licking the embers of his anger into flame once more.

  She swallowed, looking a little frightened by his anger. If she was scared, fuck her. This was what she’d been paid to do.

  Eyeing him with caution, she flicked open the snap at the waistband of his jeans. Then she drew down his zipper and knelt in front of him to ease his jeans past his hips.

  He wasn’t wearing any underwear, so his sex pushed into the widening gap until it sprang free. The warm breeze blowing over his flesh and the woman’s intent stare did the rest. His cock quickly filled and rose.

  Etienne sucked in a deep breath and raised his hands to brace himself within the doorframe as the woman bent over him.

  She licked her lips. “I’ll make dis quick.”

  “Don’t rush on my account.” Now that he’d decided to enjoy his “gift”, he wasn’t in any hurry.

  The woman cleared her throat, opened her mouth, and swallowed the head of his cock.

  Etienne groaned and his toes curled inside his boots. The sensation of her hot, moist mouth drawing on his sex was so exquisite it hurt.

  Her gaze never left his as she drew back and licked around the soft head. The sight of her pink tongue darting out to lap at him tightened his groin. She followed the ridge all the way around then licked down his length, caressing him with firmer strokes as she went.

  Etienne gritted his teeth as she took her time, priming him. Her head dipped, and her dark hair shimmered in the moonlight as she worked his flesh.

  She returned to the head and suctioned it into her mouth, her eyes closing as her lips drew hard, her cheeks hollowing with the effort. Then her hands glided up his thighs. One cupped his balls, already drawn taut and close to his body. She kneaded them gently with her palm and fingers, rolling and tugging until he pulsed his hips, beginning the drive toward release. The other hand circled the base of his cock and squeezed, twisting up and down his shaft.