Psy (Alien Castaways #3) - Cara Bristol Page 0,9

a scooter? I was picturing a moped. This is a cross between a motorcycle and a rocket.

Exactly. Our tech is very advanced. If Earth’s government got hold of a scooter or ship, it could lead to disaster. No doubt they would try to replicate it and use it. If the Xeno Consortium caught sight of it, they would know survivors of the bombardment had made it to Earth. That would be very, very bad for everyone.

My people are refugees. We came to Earth because our planet was destroyed. The beings who bombarded it would like to see us dead, too. They have no idea we’re here, and it’s critical we keep it that way, so we don’t announce we’re ’Topian, and we don’t flash technology that could identify us. If not for the critical need for secrecy, Mysk and his people would have produced inventions the likes of which Earth couldn’t even imagine.

I won’t tell anyone.

I know you won’t. That was why he’d felt safe in sharing the information.

He took them to a vacant lot, overgrown with weeds and saplings. The homer he’d palmed led him right to the craft. With a press of a button, he deactivated the invisibility screen. The air shimmered as the craft appeared.

A slender nose extended from the central power core, while winglike baffles flanked the stern for stability. A long seat sat atop the power unit with a protective shield in between. Spanning a wide U, the handlebars allowed the rider to steer the scooter when in manual mode or serve as a grab bar if on autopilot.

Psy swung a leg over the seat and mounted the vehicle. Climb aboard. The machine won’t let you fall—but if you want to hold onto something, hang onto me. He winked.

She climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms tight around his waist, her breasts pillowy soft against his back. Heat rushed to his cock, and he erected a mental barrier so he wouldn’t embarrass them both by revealing his arousal.

With a push of a button, he rendered them invisible and then inputted the coordinates for the lavender farm. He fired up the vehicle, and they lifted off.

Cassie squealed and squeezed his waist tighter.

It felt good to have her arms around him. The moment he’d left Timeless Treasures, he’d longed to see her again. Although her nearness stirred all manner of lustful sensations, it had a calming, peaceful effect, too.

Something lost had been found.

The hover scooter flew down the quiet residential avenue and turned onto Main Street, zipping around automobiles. A couple strolled arm in arm into Millie’s Diner. Outside Timeless Treasures, Verna swept the sidewalk.

They really can’t see us! Cassie waved at her oblivious boss.

Nope.

From Main Street, they sailed onto Highway 95, the major north-south passage cutting from Idaho into Canada. Over the highway, a grinning cowboy peered down from a huge billboard proclaiming Argent a great place to visit.

For him, the advertising slogan had turned out to be true. He’d met Cassie.

Could she be his genmate? The ease with which he’d linked to her mind suggested it might be so, but the human psyche was more accessible than that of most other species. He fingered his throat. Nothing. Swollen mating glands served as the first indication a ’Topian had encountered a genmate, but Veritals often reacted differently. Sometimes no swelling occurred. He clung to the hope and told himself to be patient.

What’s a genmate?

The question startled him. He’d let down his guard, and she’d picked up on his musing. It is someone with whom we share genetic programming, predisposing us to mate with that person.

So much for romance.

What isn’t romantic about it?

There’s no hearts, flowers, candlelight. No jitters of excitement. No grand gestures.

You make me jitter with excitement.

I do?

He covered her hand clasped around his middle. More than you know.

The scooter turned down an arterial, following it to a graveled road. A wooden sign welcomed them to Lavender Bliss Farm in purple lettering moments before a small gift shop came into view. Business hours had ended, and the sign on the door said CLOSED.

The lavender has almost stopped blooming for the season, but you’ll still see some flowers as well as other varieties Kevanne planted. There are trails we can hike on, and I figured you might be hungry, so I arranged for a meal.

Sounds wonderful.

The hover scooter veered around trees and over fallen timber. Cassie hugged him tighter and laughed. As he smiled at her enjoyment, he wondered why if she could make noises—laugh,