Page 35 of Bad Beehavior

My walls clench around him, encouraging him to increase his speed and thrust further inside of me.

His body tenses, and he groans into my ear. His reaction sends me into a spiral, and I come undone underneath him.

He pumps into me, his honey filling me until we’re both sated and relax into one another.

“Fuck,” I say as I catch my breath.

He pulls himself up and kisses my forehead. “We better start getting ready. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.” He rolls onto his back.

I sit up and pick up my phone on the bedside table beside me. “Shit. We need to be there in thirty minutes.”

He sits up and smiles. “Shower together to save time?”

I lean in and kiss him. “I don’t think that will save any time at all.”

His lips devour mine and he pulls me close.

I get lost in him, but before letting myself submit to my urges, I pull back. “Okay, fine. Quick shower together!”

“Yes!” he exclaims before kissing my rounded stomach. “Good morning,” he whispers before jumping to his feet and going to our master bathroom.

I look around my bedroom, sighing with contentment at the crown molding, the original hardwood floors, and the commission portraits of Central Park hanging on the wall opposite me. I can’t believe this is my life. In just five short years, my flower shop has become a major success. I’ve gotten married, and now I’m months away from becoming a mother. I also facilitated the intergalactic unity of The Colony and Earth,but that pales in comparison to the amazing life we’ve created for ourselves.

I jump to my feet to look out the window. Central Park is just outside my two-story townhome. I wanted to be close to the place Bee and I met. My life would never be as wonderful as it is now without him.

“Are you coming?” Bee calls through the sound of the pelting of water from the shower.

“Yes!” I sprint away from the window. I’m still giddy at the thought of rubbing against his wet body. I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of my bee man.

By the time we arrive at the flower shop, there’s already a line taking up the sidewalk leading to the entrance. We’re not late, surprisingly, but my heart stutters with anxiety that this many people showed up for our Spring Botanical Garden exhibit.

Since the World Nations publicly allied with The Colony and agreed to accept their people onto Earth in exchange for their help in revitalizing our crops and other plant life, business has been booming.

I never thought Earth would work together with literal aliens. The human race isn’t known for cohabitating or working together, but I guess Earth was a little more desperate than I thought. Once the Queen showed what her men’s semen couldaccomplish, our united government was biting at the bit for a piece of their jizz.

As the first human contact with the people of The Colony, I became somewhat of a politician, facilitating meetings and working as a liaison for collaboration. The gig paid pretty well and even helped me pay off my business loan. Thankfully, I’m not needed anymore, and I can focus on my blooming flower shop.

Many of Bee’s former colleagues decided to live in New York City so Bee could help them get on their feet. I’ve had a whole swarm of magical jizz bee-men working for me and making sure my flowers are the boldest and brightest in a hundred-mile radius. I’ve had to move locations to my current shop, which offers a lot more sunlight and space and even has room for a large garden in the back.

Bee’s idea was to turn the garden into an exhibit and make it a ticketed event. Every day, another aspect of my business is growing and improving. Thank God I hired a full staff to take care of things once I officially go on maternity leave. It’ll be hard to leave this place in someone else's hands, but I’m excited to spend time with my little bee family.

“Good morning!” I say to the patrons as I make my way to the front door and unlock it. Just as I’m about to swing the door open, someone bumps into me.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” I say as I whirl around, even though the person clearly bumped into me. My eyes widen once I recognize the bearded and dirty man. “Kent?”

His eyes go frantic as he searches my face. “The bees, the bees.”

“Bees?” I ask. I heard that Kent wasn’t doing too well since Bee threatened to kill him if he ever made contact with me again, but I didn’t realize he ended up homeless and completely lost the very few marbles he used to have.

He grabs my shoulders. “The bees are living my life!” He screeches before pushing me to the side and running down the sidewalk.

I watch him run away, and everyone he passes gives him a disturbed look.

“Are you okay?” Bee asks, searching my face, finally reaching me after talking to some of the guests in line.

I shake my head. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

I don’t think he realized the crazy homeless man who just shoved me and ran down the sidewalk screaming was Kent, but I don’t feel like mentioning it. I really don’t want to have to deal with Kent’s organs being splayed over the sidewalk on the day of my big event.

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