Page 2 of Claimed by an Alien Warrior

Her hand shook as she fished her keys out of her purse, and it took several tries to insert the right one into the lock. Before she turned the key, she forced herself to take a few slow lungfuls of air.

“We’ll work it out. There was a mistake. We’ll fix this,” Zoey whispered, barely hearing herself over the hum of the air conditioner in the front window.

She pushed open the door and stepped through, closing it gently behind her. The cool air was a blessing against her flushed skin. Normally, she’d be freezing — it was December. Who used air conditioners in December? But Joshua insisted on running the damned thing if the temperature outside was above sixty degrees. Today happened to be closer to seventy.

It was a wonder she’d been able to keep up on the power bill.

The living room TV was on the pause screen of some video game, the volume cranked up to blare orchestral music that seemed entirely too dramatic for a menu with options likeRESUME GAME, SAVE,andEXIT. An open pizza box on their thrift store coffee table held two uneaten slices of pepperoni pizza and three empty beer cans.

Zoey frowned; random pizza and beer was outside the budget. They’d barely been able to afford the little Christmas tree in the corner with its single string of multi-colored lights. Did he have a friend over who’d paid for the food?

“Josh?” she called after switching the AC off.

A quick glance in the kitchen confirmed he wasn’t in there.

She set her purse and the mail — except for the notice about the rent — on their little kitchen table and walked to the bathroom. The door was open, lights off.

Where is he?

If he was out job hunting, why leave the TV on and leftover food in the living room?

That was when she heard the sounds from beyond the closed bedroom door — muffled, high-pitched cries and low grunts.

Hurt and shame wrapped their cold fingers around Zoey’s heart.

There was nothing wrong with masturbation, and she knew men were visual creatures. She couldn’t hold that against Josh. But she couldn’t help feeling inferior when she compared herself to the women in the porn he often watched. They were beautiful and thin while Zoey…wasn’t. She’d always been on the plump side, with a larger backside and thighs, heavier breasts, and a little extra around her middle.

She’d struggled with her weight and self-image for most of her life, ever since her father died. It hurt to know that Josh preferred those women. He’d never said it out loud, but he’d never really tried to hide the fact, either.

The last time they’d been intimate was more than two weeks ago; they’d done a little heavy petting before Josh asked for a blowjob. She’d felt so…detached from the act, as though she were just going through the motions. He’d been watching porn while she sucked him off.

After he’d gone to sleep that night, Zoey had crept into the bathroom and cried. The whole experience had been so demeaning and hurtful. And it was her fault.

Why hadn’t she tried harder to be attractive for him? To exercise, to pick a piece of fruit instead of a candy bar she shouldn’t have spent money on, anyway? If she cared about him, wasn’t it worth the effort to make him happy?

At heart, she knew that train of thought wasn’t right, but that didn’t help her derail it.

Zoey hadn’t found the courage to tell him how she’d felt that night — how she’d felt during most of the rare nights when they actually did something in their bed other than sleep. She’d been so starved for intimacy when it happened that she gobbled up whatever attention he offered, like a dog waiting under the table for scraps.

She clenched her fists and wrestled back more tears, clawing for that calm she’d found a few moments before.

Under the current circumstances, whatever Josh was doing right now was an insignificant issue.

Turning the knob, she pushed open the door and stepped in.

The breath fled her lungs like she’d been punched in the sternum.

The stuffy air was pungent with the smell of sex. Joshua stood directly ahead, completely naked, his ass cheeks flexing as he thrust into the woman he was holding up against the wall. Her long legs were crossed at their ankles behind his back, her arms were draped around his shoulders, and her head was tilted back. The woman’s cries of pleasure sounded from her parted red lips, loud and clear now that they weren’t muffled by the door.

Anger sparked in Zoey’s belly. “What. The. Fuck!”

“Shit!” Joshua yelled, turning toward Zoey. He grunted suddenly, his face contorting in that way she knew so well as his muscles spasmed; his orgasm face. He stepped back from the wall, and the woman fell to the floor with a curse.

Josh grasped his cock in one hand as though it pained him. Jets of semen sprayed from its tip to splatter the woman’s chest. “Shit, Zoey!”

Guess he got his fucking money shot.

“Ugh.” The woman grabbed Josh’s rumpled t-shirt from the floor and wiped off her spunk-splattered breasts. “Seriously?”

---