Escape (26 page)

As Koh Tao appeared as a blob on the horizon, the first flu
tter of nerves tickled her stomach
. She looked around at the backpackers who were all nursing dreams of seeing huge turtles, tropical fish, maybe even the occasional shark.  They were heading to the island for the first time and Lucy realized she was going to be the local. She would be the one they would be envious of and that gave her a warm feeling inside.

Gradually, the blob took shape and Lucy could see the lush green vegetation of the middle of the island and the tiny coves of white sand bitten out of the coastline. The small dock was filled with people, most of them holding signs advertizing diving resorts, hoping to poach the backpackers arriving without reservations.

She spotted him straight away, his broad shoulders
a
triangle against the sun, his easy stance, leaning against the railings of the port. For once, he wasn’t speaking to anyone. Instead, he was concentrating on the approaching boat. He saw her and a slow grin spread across his face.

She was home.
             

~*~

Like what you’ve read? Please keep reading for the first chapter of M.K. Elliott’s latest erotic romance novella, ‘
Sextraterrestrial
’
which is now available to buy from
Amazon
for only $2.99
.

Please note, although the first chapter does
not contain explicit material,
the novella is erotic and is meant for readers over the age of 18 only.

Blurb:
Following
the sudden death o
f her husband, author Jessie McL
eod suffers
from
agoraphobia and panic attacks. Unable to venture much further than her own property, she's become trapped in her old farmhouse. Caught in a cycle of sleepless nights and panic attacks, she can't even do the one thing she used to love - write.

But after an incredible lightning storm one night, Jessie wakes to discover a beautiful and completely naked man in her backyard. He knows nothing about himself except his name, Tao, and that he wants Jessie. Convinced she can help him, and he her, they embark on a journey of self and sexual awakening.

Try though she might, Jessie can't ignore the strange things that happen when Tao is around - how he seems able to work the computer without touching it, how his fingers sometimes seem to emit a blue light. After a revelation, Jessie must decide if she can face the truth or continue to hide from everyone and everything.

Sextraterrestrial

Chapter One

Lightning ripped, ragged through
the
night sky.

For the briefest of moments, the countryside lit up before her. The strange, flattened shapes in the corn seemed darker and eerier than they had under the scorching Oklahoma sun.

Frozen at her bedroom window, Jessie McLeod couldn’t tear her eyes from the scene before her. Electrical storms were common around these parts, but she’d never seen anything like this. The day had been clear and bright, and even now, no storm clouds hung fat and low in the sky. Yet, the lightning flared, jagged forks splitting the sky right down to the horizon, combined with continuous, strobe-like flashes which left her blinking against their strength.

At her feet, her dog, Buddy, whimpered, his body pressed up against her legs.

“Hush, boy,” she said, reaching down to stroke his scraggly fur. “It’s only lightning.”

Jessie wished she had someone she could turn to; someone to whom she could exclaim, ‘Wow, have you ever seen anything like this before?’ and actually get an answer.

Unconsciously, her eyes flicked to the photograph on the bedside table—the blond, shaggy-haired man with the blue eyes, his arm wrapped around a brunette; both with relaxed, happy smiles on their faces. Jessie tore her gaze away from her own image, pain stabbing through her afresh. Two years had passed now, yet, still the pain hit her unexpectedly, winding her, leaving her gasping for breath.

I’ll leave
, Jessie told herself for the thousandth time. She would go to a city—a town at least—and find herself a nice little house with
neighbors
less than three miles from her.

The thought of being in a city, surrounded by people, sent her heart racing as her body flooded with adrenaline. For a moment, she swayed, unsteady on her feet, before she got hold of herself.

She told herself she stayed in the big farmhouse because the isolation was good for her writing, but, in truth, she’d not written anything new since Jeremy passed. Only the backlog of manuscripts on her laptop kept her nosy editor and agent from her door. As far as they were concerned, as long as she still produced a new manuscript for them every six months, all was well. How were they to know the books she’d been delivering had all been written several years ago?

Jessie sighed and turned her attention back to the storm.

She realized something and frowned. No thunder. Had she ever seen such lightning without the roll and crash of thunder following? Was such a thing even possible?
It must be
, she decided. Perhaps the thunder was too far away for her to hear?

Fields of crops stretched out before her: maize, wheat and barley. She didn’t farm the fields herself, but rented them out to a local farmer who made better use of them then she ever would. He’d been pissed lately because kids had been mucking around, creating flattened shapes in the crops. He’d told her to watch out for them, but she’d no idea what she was supposed to do should she see someone. She’d seen no signs of anybody and doubted she’d do anything if she did.

Life weighed her down lately.

The shapes contained a certain symmetrical beauty. One such was a semi-circle with increasingly smaller circles dotted around its perimeter and another like a labyrinth, a circle containing an intricate pattern in the centre. Jessie understood the farmer’s dismay—each sheath of corn, so precisely flattened, had been ruined—yet for Jessie the shapes created a point of focus when she looked out across the seemingly never-ending expanse of dusty yellow crops. Despite the obvious vandalism, their curves and precision were striking.

The night drew on. Sleep came easily, but left just as fast. Often, she found herself wandering the house at four a.m. knowing she would never get back to sleep again, just waiting for the morning to come. Though she had nothing to get up for in the morning, she kept to her routine—in bed before midnight—and the witching hour was fast approaching.

Her small lamp cast a soft glow across the room. She shed her clothes as she headed toward the bed, popping the button of her jeans and pulling the pants down her long, slender thighs. Wearing only her panties and camisole, she slid beneath the cool sheets before reaching out a hand and flicking the switch on her lamp.

Instead of plunging the room into darkness, the lack of light only served to increase the drama of the lightshow happening outside. The thin, cream-colored drapes did little to block out the lightning

I’ll never get to sleep with this going on,
she thought. But, even as the words crossed her mind, she sank into the arms of sleep.

Jessie blinked awake,
pale
morning
sunlight filtering into the bedroom. Her eyes flicked to the small bedside alarm clock, which she never needed to use.

Five-fifteen.

She rolled over, her hand straying to the empty space where her husband used to lie. So much time had passed, yet she’d still kept to her side of the bed, curled up on her side. The other white pillow lay smooth and flat, no imprint of a head denting its
center
.

Closing her eyes again, she willed sleep to return. Sometimes her dreams were of happier times. When Jeremy had been alive, they’d been filled with excitement for their future and busy planning their lives together. Thirty-three had been too young for him to die. Twenty-nine had been too young for her to become a widow. Sleep, when it came, offered her an escape from the empty expanse of her days, but, for the most part, it eluded her.

With a sigh, Jessie opened her eyes and pushed herself to sitting. Though still exhausted, she knew she was up for the day. What she needed now was coffee—lots of it.

The hour was still young, but already there was heat to the new day. Jessie’s thin cotton camisole clung to her curves, her perky breasts and flat stomach unintentionally highlighted in the skimpy outfit. She’d grown slim over the passing years.

Jessie headed into the kitchen. Buddy, who sat at the kitchen door, his back to her and ears pricked, didn’t even acknowledge her entering the room.

She frowned. Normally Buddy was all over her, as though he’d not seen her for a month instead of just a few hours.

“All right, Buddy,” she said. “I’ll let you out in a minute. Mommy needs caffeine.”

Jessie piled coffee granules into the espresso machine, followed by fresh water. The machine boiled and hissed as it brewed her much needed caffeine injection.

Taking her coffee, she went to the backdoor and opened it to let the dog out. But Buddy didn’t move—only sat, frozen in the doorway.

“Go on, dummy,” she said, nudging him with her foot. “What are you waiting…
”
Her words trailed off and her breath caught in her chest.

Someone was in her yard.

With a pounding heart, she stepped back from the doorway. A man lay curled up on the terracotta tiles beside her pool, his knees tucked into his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs. Naked, his skin glistened in the early morning dew. She took in the firm muscles of his ass and the strong length of his thighs. His skin was pale, his arms and legs covered in a fine down of dark hair. Though she couldn’t see his face, his hair was longish and dark enough to be black.

Goosebumps prickled her skin, yet his naked flesh stirred something deep inside her, something she’d thought had long since died.

Don’t get distracted, girl,
she admonished herself.
The guy is either a lunatic or a drunk.

She pulled open the nearest drawer and rummaged around, her fingers searching for a weapon, her eyes never leaving the naked stranger on her property.

Her hand closed around a long barbeque fork that hadn’t been used since Jeremy died. She pulled the fork out, its sharp prongs glinting in the early sunlight.

Tightening her grip around the wooden handle, she gritted her teeth and braced her shoulders. Jessie burst from her back door, onto the porch.

“This is private property,” she yelled. “Get the hell out of my yard or I’m calling the cops.”

At the sound of her voice, the body on the tiles stirred. Jessie’s heart lurched. What would she do if he rushed her? Would she really have the guts to stab him?

Like a fern, the man unfurled, raising his head to look at her with sleepy, blinking eyes. She took in his full mouth, straight nose and strong jaw, but his catalogue model good looks weren’t the thing that caught her attention. Instead, she focused on his eyes. Something about them made her falter. Their blue depths held no menace; it was as if she were watching a child wake.

“Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?” she shouted again, brandishing the fork. She wondered why she was even asking—shouldn’t she be on the phone already?

At the sound of her shouts, the man didn’t flinch. The corners of his full lips twitched and he tilted his head to one side, as if taking her in.