Wanted- Handsome Alien Abductor

126 Pages·2016·0.53 MB·English

by  Nour Myra

New Concepts Publishing
www.newconceptspublishing.com
Copyright ©2011 by New Concepts Publishing First published in 2011, 2011

NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of
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CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
* * * *
WANTED: HANDSOME ALIEN ABDUCTOR
By
Myra Nour
(C) copyright by Myra Nour, September 2011
Cover Art by Eliza Black, September 2011
ISBN 978-1-60394-547-9
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's
imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons
or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter One
Amber slammed the door, hard. She cursed under her breathe. When will I
learn? Sarah and Brenna, her best friends since college, seem determined to see
her married off.
Not that Amber had anything against marriage, it was the fact that there seemed
to be no decent guys left in the world. She had been engaged to Richard for six
months before the Army sent him to Iraq and returned him a dead hero.
Richard had been her true love. He was tall, muscular, motivated, and also had a
sweet side to his danger loving nature. She should have known better than to
date a Green Beret, especially a man who looked forward to serving in a war
zone.
Being a warrior, and a hell of a man, were two of the reasons Amber had been
attracted to him in the first place. She sighed and flopped down on the couch.
Her frustration was gone, replaced by sadness. Wiping a tear from one cheek,
she made her mind up not to degenerate into a crying mess tonight. Although it'd
been three years since Richard's death, sorrow still hit her occasionally.
"Yeah, especially when you keep thinking about how great he was,” she
mumbled aloud. Of course it was hard not to when all the men she met fell far
short.
Brenna and Sarah tried setting her up with their friends and co-workers, but no
one measured up. A few had been nice, but too soft for her tastes.
Her thoughts flicked back to Jack, the guy she'd slammed the door on tonight.
Brenna had decided that beta types were way too tame for her, and had, with
much nagging, set her up for a blind date.
"He's a wild card,” Brenna had stated.
"What does that mean?” Amber wished she had never let her friend talk her into
this date.
"You'll see,” Brenna said mysteriously.
"If you are going to be obtuse, it's still not too late for me to catch a cold.
Achoo,” she sneezed loudly.
"Pretty convincing.” Brenna grinned and said, “Okay. He rides a motorcycle."
"Better. And?” She waved her fingers.
"He's a friend of my cousin Ron."
Not better. Ron was one rough character. She frowned.
Reading her expression, Brenna wheedled. “Oh, come on, it's just one date. I
promised Ron I'd hook you up."
"Uh, huh. Now it's clearer. Ron owes...what was his name?"
"Jack."
"Owes Jack something.” The date was looking worse by the minute.
"Maybe,” her friend smiled. “Still I've seen him—he's a looker."
"Give."
"Tall, maybe six feet. Shoulder length brown hair, green eyes, slim but
muscular."
"I don't know."
"Did I mention he looks a lot like Hugh Jackson?"
"No you did not.” That sealed it. Amber didn't even have to say anything,
Brenna read the interest in her eyes.
The next day their date had started out well when Jack rode up on his
motorcycle. She didn't know much about them, but it looked nice, and it was a
Harley. Brenna had warned her to wear jeans so she could ride behind him.
When he had taken off his helmet, she sucked in her breath. Not Hugh, but close
enough for a brother. Her insides warmed and a tingle erupted from her center.
She had to admit she liked what she saw, very much, and enjoyed wrapping her
arms around his waist for the ride. Hard muscles beneath her fingers. The tingle
had spread and she had to stop herself from imaging what he'd be like in bed.
Amber was impatient to reach their destination so she could get a really good
look at his face and physique. They pulled up in front of a bar with dozens of
motorcycles parked outside. The music blasted out as someone exited. She bit
her bottom lip and tried not to judge. But I'm a history teacher.
When they entered, Amber clutched Jack's bulging bicep. It was noisy, dimly lit,
and packed with tough looking patrons. There was lots of long hair, beards,
tattoos, and leather. Amber chided herself again not to stereotype.
"Hey Jack,” the bartender called. “How they hanging?"
"Pretty good.” Her escort grabbed his crotch with one hand while he winked at
her.
Gross. What have I gotten myself into?
Amber was propelled forward by Jack's momentum. A couple of bearded men
left a small table and Jack grabbed a chair, swinging his arm for her to sit.
Several bikers at the next table laughed. So, Jack was putting on a show for her,
or maybe for his compadres.
He ordered beer, and she did the same. Though she really didn't care for beer, a
mixed drink with an umbrella didn't seem right in this atmosphere. Or perhaps
she wanted to fit in a little bit instead of sticking out so much.
Amber had worn her hair in a low ponytail, but she noticed the other women
wore their hair free. Her jeans were snug, but not skin tight as the women
wearing denim or leather. While her shirt was a form-fitting t-shirt, there was
room to breathe. Her large breasts were clearly visible, but the low cut blouses
many of the other women seemed to be the norm. She almost felt overdressed.
Jack kept downing beers as the minutes passed, while Amber still sipped on her
first drink. The place seemed to get rowdier, which didn't seem possible. She
wasn't afraid of having fun, her two wacky friends had dragged her into some
weird places before.
There had been the all female gay bar. One of Brenna's co-workers was
celebrating her five year anniversary with her partner. Amber went because she
was always curious about such places. The music had been great, the drinks
tasty, and her friends lively. The group danced together, and it was kind of
freeing not worrying about a male dates intentions. It was just plain fun.
Actually, it was not a weird experience, just outside her “norm” of activities. But
she did feel out of her element in the motorcycle hangout, her friends were at
home, and she didn't know Jack.
Her companion was jocular, and Amber tried to hold a conversation with him.
But his remarks were tinged with sexual innuendos, and he turned frequently to
chat with the bikers at the next table. She felt isolated. This definitely was not
turning out to be a good date.
Amber was patient though. She had to be in order to teach children. Hours
passed and finally she had enough.
"I'm tired Jack."
He laughed, patting her hand. “The night's still young."
It was 2:00 am. “I'll call a cab."
Jack looked surprised, then disappointed. As she stood up, he staggered to his
feet. She found a yellow cab on her blackberry and phoned them. Jack tried to
knock the cell from her hand, but missed, making him flip around completely.
It would have been funny, except he was trying to destroy her expensive cell
phone. She waited by the bar for a while, and then walked outside. Jack followed
her, but then wandered off.
Relief flooded through her when the cab drove up. But as she pulled the door
open, Jack reappeared and tried to grasp the handle. She nudged his body, and he
swayed, then staggered a few feet back. Enough for her to dive in the back and
then thankfully she heard the lock click. “Thanks,” she said to the driver. They
edged slowly out of the parking lot, for it was full of motorcycles and people.
Glancing behind, Amber moaned. Jack was on his cycle, gunning it and weaving
toward the cab with a determined grimace. He wasn't wearing his helmet, which
must have been left at the bar.
She watched with growing horror as he kept pace behind them. She didn't want
to be responsible for his death. How could he avoid a wreck in his drunken
condition?
Somehow, he made it all the way, parking on the grass in front of her house.
"Ma'am, do you need some help?"
Amber was thankful for her luck, having a cab driver who truly intended to look
after her. Too bad he was over fifty, with the face of a pugilist that only a mother
could love.
Punching in 911 on her cell, she said, “If you don't mind, I'd love some company
until the police get here."
In the meantime, Jack yelled outside the car window, and then erupted into
curses when she ignored him. He tripped on the curb, and lay sprawled,
laughing.
Amber had hesitated initially in calling the police, but was glad now she had.
Not only could she not handle a man in a drunken rage, but she didn't want him
to end up splattered on the highway. A night in jail should sober him up.
When the police arrived, she told them what happened, and thanked the cab
driver again. As a young policeman guided Jack's head inside the car, he
shouted, “I bought you drinks. You owe me a fuck."
Her cheeks reddened. The officer shoved Jack into the back seat, and one of his
arms thumped hard against the metal jam.
"Oops."
She almost laughed. The whole thing was embarrassing, but now it had slipped
into ridiculous.
So, here she was, back home and another night spoiled by a rotten date. It'd be a
long time before she let Brenna or Sarah talk her into another one. Maybe never.
She couldn't help but smile though. Her friends were well intentioned. Sarah was
happily married and Brenna happily looking.
Amber flipped on the TV, frustrated and bored. She wanted to find the all
encompassing love Sarah had too. Will was not only a handsome man with black
hair and blue eyes, but Sarah was his world. With her own striking looks, Amber
always got eyed by men, single and married. But when Will was around, he
barely glanced at her. That was real love.
Of all things, they'd met at a museum. Amber smiled. Maybe I should visit the
museum. Her smile turned into a frown, and she threw the remote down. It
wouldn't be that simple. But Sarah had hinted one time that there was more
involved in getting the two of them together. Something about magic. At the
time Amber had ignored Sarah's remarks, thinking she was head over heels in
love. And to Sarah that was magic.
She grinned, thinking of Derek. Now there was a case of total lack of magic in
the relationship. Sarah had introduced them. He was a computer programmer,
very smart, and his manners were impeccable, for he always treated her like a
lady. Derek even liked to cook, which was cool. With his short blonde-brown
hair and brown eyes, he'd been cute, in spite of his large glasses that gave him a
nerdy look.
But when they went out one night with her friends to a country bar Brenna
frequented, Derek had shown his true colors. At least in her eyes.
A man, who was clearly drunk, came to their table and asked her to dance. She
expected, no hoped, her date would tell him to get lost. The man was average
build, and a little on the slender size. He didn't seem intimating to her except for
his inebriated state. But, looking nervous, Derek had said, “If you want to,”
putting the choice on her.
Normally, she would have told the guy no, but her date's weak behavior
aggravated her. Not only did she dance several times with the drunk, she had
executed some sexy moves, staring at Derek while she gyrated. See what you
could have had.
Derek had looked even more uncomfortable, and suddenly seemed very
interested in his beer, sipping it down. She knew he'd never call her again. Good!
Later, when he walked Amber to her front door, she wasn't surprised he didn't
attempt a kiss. He was probably embarrassed by his own inaction.