Earth Girls Aren't Easy by Charlene Teglia Page A

they had to travel a long ways to get there and the terrain was so nice to look at that she didn’t hurry, and by the time her brown eyes made contact with deep blue, the smile had turned genuine.
    “What is car-a- mel macchiato?” Bodybuilder Man asked the question in a deep voice that slid over her skin like a caress and Angie fought the urge to respond with something completely unprofessional and inappropriate.
    “An espresso drink,” she managed to say instead. “My favorite . Highly recommend it. It’s probably against your workout plan, though.”
    He frowned at her, looking tall, blond and puzzled but undeniably gorgeous. And built. Then the frown smoothed away and he smiled. “Ah. You think I am too disciplined for pleasure.” He leaned a little closer and said in a low voice, “It is my discipline that will ensure your pleasure.”
    Angie blinked and shook her head to clear it. Because no way had she just heard right. “Excuse me?”
    “I do not think I will.” His smile widened and then Angie had to grab onto the counter because out of nowhere pleasure shot through her, centered around the sensitive flesh between her legs, and burst into a supernova of an orgasm, taking her from a mild buzz of interest to shooting over the edge of fulfillment in about half a second.
    She clung to the counter, staring stupidly at the customer who wanted something from her, something that came in a cup with a sleeve so he wouldn’t burn his fingers, and she’d think of whatever it was in just a minute. Any minute now. Right after she got a hold of herself and figured out why she was having hallucinatory orgasms at work.
    There is no need for you to get a hold of yourself, the thought formed in her head. And it didn’t sound at all like her own internal voice. It sounded like the stranger in front of her. It will be my pleasure to take hold of you.
    Angie gulped audibly. “Excuse me,” she managed to say without stuttering. She was repeating herself, but the aftershocks between her legs were interfering with her ability to find words and string them together. “I think I’m coming down with something. Mattie will take your order.”
    Do not be afraid of me , the strange voice in her head said.
    Something new was happening to her now. Warmth enfolded her from the inside out, a sense of deep peace and comfort and assurance . Stay with me. Make for me the drink you so desired. Make one for yourself as well. Share this pleasure of your world with me.
    Angie took a deep breath. She had no clue what was happening, but a coffee break sounded like a very good idea, and she wanted a macchiato, dammit .
    She also wanted another orgasm because she hadn’t had one of those in longer than she cared to remember, but sex was complicated. Coffee was simple. “Okay,” she said to the stranger, who she shouldn’t want to spend her break with but she was going to do it anyway.
    “ Danek ,” the man said. “My name is Danek . Now we are not strangers.”
    “ Danek ,” Angie repeated. “Two caramel macchiatos coming up.”
    And after she’d taken her break and drunk her coffee, she could make an appointment for herself with somebody who would take her blood pressure and tell her to lay off the chocolate covered espresso beans and she’d stop hearing voices and having imaginary orgasms. Then she could get back to leaning on the Seattle police to find out what had happened to her missing friend.
    According to her neighbor , Micki had been abducted by aliens, but then Larry probably thought Angie was an alien. And not the kind who came over the border from Mexico, either. Larry wasn’t a reliable source of information.
    Thinking of Micki usually made a knot of tension and worry form between her shoulders, but for some reason Angie felt relaxed and calm as she worked the espresso machine and produced two perfect caramel macchiatos with exactly the right amount of foam. Muscle Man was going to love it, Angie vowed, and never