Space Gypsy Chronicles

Chapter 2

Men were pigs. Without fail. Every single time. But that wasn't why Emma got in her truck and pretended to leave.

As she peeked in her rearview mirror, she couldn't help but grin as she spotted the very sexy Mr. Abaddon sprinting toward her truck. Balls naked.

Bounce. Bounce.

So entertaining.

Hot too. So hot she couldn't blame the heat of the desert for the flush in her body. As a red-blooded woman, she could admit she found him attractive. That didn't mean it would go anywhere - even if she did enjoy the tease.

Playing hard to get wasn't easy with this guy, but she'd promised herself she wouldn't fall into bed so quickly the next time she fell in lust. But damn, he made that hard, as hard as that rock-solid bod of his. Watching that man spring into motion, d**k waving, muscles movingÉ Totally worth getting him agitated, client or not.

Emma thought she knew him well enough by now to expect he wouldn't report her attitude, just like she wouldn't report his behavior. They played a game of tease and deny, one she might eventually let him win. Maybe. To be honest, she was having so much fun she'd hate to ruin it with disappointing s*x because a guy that pretty was probably selfish and lousy in bed.

As Mr. Abaddon drew alongside, she put the truck into park and smiled down at him. "Can I help you, sir?"

Without a hint of a smile, he held out his hand. "I'll sign." He scrawled something unintelligible on her tablet and handed it back.

"Thanks. Now, was that so hard?" Only as the words emerged from her mouth did she realize how he would take it.

He smiled. "So hard, wench."

Someone crank the air conditioning, the temperature just went up about ten degrees. "Where am I unloading the stuff?"

"Around back, same place as usual. I'm gonna throw on some pants and meet you back there."

Pants? What a shame.

Despite her claim she wanted to finish early, she didn't immediately get to work, pretending to fiddle with her portable scanner. In reality, she checked out his taut, tanned ass as he sauntered back to his trailer. The man had incredible glutes.

Only once he disappeared from sight did she begin to unload his order.

Actually, she didn't. The little machine on sturdy wheels she had in the truck did most of the work. The boys in the warehouse called it a self-propelled pallet truck. She called it the pretty red machine that did most of the work. It let her move with ease the packaged pallets loaded with boxes and shrink wrapped. Wheeling the shiny red truck, she steered the load to a cleared spot behind the trailer, a spot empty of the pallets she'd brought just over two weeks ago.

What does he do with the stuff? Because his trailer certainly wasn't big enough to stash it. Perhaps he's one of those survival nuts with a bomb shelter under his place. Given his mental state, it wouldn't surprise her.

As she lowered the second pallet, he reappeared, as threatened, wearing pants but nothing else. Not even shoes.

Was it wrong to notice the size of his feet? They matched impressively large hands. Hands big enough toÉ

Thump. She lowered her load too quickly, and it hit the ground hard, sending up a puff of dust.

Waving a hand before his face to clear the air, he coughed. "Good thing my foot wasn't in your way."

"You have two. You can spare one."

His laughter rang out, loud and boisterous. "You always have an answer to everything, don't you?"

"Yes." Except for the answer of what Mr. Abaddon did out here. Alone. On a road that technically barely existed.

As she had since she started bringing him order after order, she asked, "What are you doing with the stuff I deliver?" Because no one needed that much coconut oil for anything. And what of the saffron the previous delivery? As for the ton of jelly beans, he definitely didn't have the body of a man who ate them.

"I told you. I am buying it for the intergalactic black market. There is a crazy demand for Earth goods. This coconut oil, for instance, is highly coveted by the Hu'lians. They like to use it in their food. Apparently it acts as some kind of s****l aphrodisiac."

And there he went again with his wildly imaginative space stories, probably the biggest reason why she'd yet to let him get in her pants.

Cute, so very cute and sexy, yet batshit f*****g crazy. "All coconut oil is good for is cooking and facials."

"I know something that provides a better facial."

She felt the twitch in her cheek as she forced her gaze to remain above his waistline area. It was a struggle, but she succeeded. "I'm going to drive away if you start being crude again."

"I was merely going to suggest that if you're looking to smooth fine lines and wrinkles that you might want to try the ghinzha oil from the Klrukian planet." He pasted a benign smile on his face.

"And what is this oil supposedly made from?"

"Nuts. Hairy ones that their females milk when the three moons align."

"You're a pig."

"No, wench, I am a randy pirate. You must be referring to the Piorcuma species. They are true swine."

"I really think you should talk to your doctor about prescribing new meds. I don't think the ones you're taking are strong enough."

He leaned against the cargo, looking utterly sane, until he opened his mouth. "I'm not crazy. Everything I've told you is the truth."

"Because little green men are real and aliens are watching."

"Watching and living among you. Sometimes closer than you think." Wink.

What a waste of a cute guy. Ignoring him, she guided the little red truck back to her delivery van, loading and unloading it one last time. She didn't speak to the client after dropping the last pallet. No point. She'd had her dose of crazy for the day.

Delivery done, it took only a few minutes for her to secure the pallet truck. She leaped out of the back of the truck to find Mr. Abaddon perched on the milk crates he used as a front step, looking utterly relaxed and comfortable, despite the screwy wiring inside his head.

Keeping her sights on his face meant noting his sun-streaked blond hair hung in messy hanks around his head. His jaw wore a bristle, an abrasion for a woman's inner thigh before he went in forÉ

She reeled those dirty thoughts back in. "I guess I'll see you next week or the one after," she replied. He never went more than a few weeks between orders.

"Or, since you're done for the day, you could stay for a bit. Maybe have a drink with me, or a bite."

The boyish grin captivated her. The naked, tanned flesh of his upper body teased too, but she knew how to fight it. "Tell me again about our president."

His eyes practically twinkled, a perfect match for his wide grin. "Your current president is an alien. Actually, it's a she, but she's wearing a male body at the moment so she can rule your country and eventually take over your world. But she's only doing that in order to save you from yourselves."

And those kind of white-padded room declarations were how she kept her panties on.

"Batshit crazy," she muttered as she went to climb into her truck - except her truck kind of exploded and flung her to the ground.