The Usual Conventions: Unconventional Romances, #1

About the e-Book You Have Purchased:

This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the authors. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Cover Artist: Freddy MacKay

Editor: Erika Orrick

First Edition

The Usual Conventions: Unconventional Romances 1 © 2014 Mathilde Watson

All Rights Reserved.

Published in the United States of America.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The Usual Conventions: Unconventional Romances 1 is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are fictionalized. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The story contains explicit sexual content and is intended for adult readers.

Any person depicted in the Licensed Art Material is a model and is being used solely for illustrative purposes.

PUBLISHER

Mischief Corner Books, LLC

Dedication

To Jules Verne, who understood that in order to peer into the future, you must first understand the present.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following word marks mentioned in this work of fiction:

The Lord of The Rings (movie): New Line Cinema, Warner Bros. & Time Warner, Inc.

Star Trek: CBS Broadcasting, Inc., Paramount Pictures Corporation & Viacom, Inc.

Star Wars: The Walt Disney Company

Time Trax: Lorimar & Warner Bros.

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Dedication

Trademarks Acknowledgment

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

About Mathilde Watson

Also by Mathilde Watson

About Mischief Corner Books

Chapter One

Hey, boss. You wanted to see me?

Chris Myers stepped out of the elevator and jogged over to where his boss, Michael Glenn, was checking in guests and handing out identification badges. The man nodded to the others working the table and excused himself, stepping away from the chaos and joining Chris next to the back wall.

Big day. You ready for this?

Chris met Michael's gaze and nodded. After two years working for his friend, he finally convinced Michael to let him shoulder a little more responsibility. The first hopefully annual OBX Science Fiction Convention was the biggest account the Glenn Event Planning Company had ever landed, and Chris suspected he only caved out of sheer desperation. Still, Chris had control over an entire floor of the event, and he was determined nothing would go wrong on his watch.

Great. Because your main attraction just arrived.

Michael jerked his head in the direction of the front door, and Chris looked up just as the ragtag group of refugees from the Harec Y'shol walked into the hotel lobby. His jaw dropped and he knew his eyes had to be as wide as saucers. He could only hope he wasn't drooling as he watched Ensign Brodeich Geinn lead his companions toward the check-in table.

Oh my god, Michael! I thought you said they wouldn't be here, Chris hissed.

Michael laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. No. What I said was they hadn't responded. I didn't get the call until late Wednesday night.

It's Friday morning. You could have told me yesterday!

I'm telling you now. You want 'em or not?

"You put them on my floor?"

Having Brodeich and his companions on his floor shouldn't have been a surprise, really. His floor consisted of the small exhibits featuring lesser-known characters from the more obscure shows. Competing against the latest Joss Whedon creation and the overblown Star Trek franchise two years ago, Brodeich's Landing had barely made a blip on the radar. The network didn't even air all of the first season before canceling the show, leaving a small but loyal fan base outraged.

They're all yours, buddy.

Michael gave his arm a quick squeeze, then hurried back to his post at the check-in table. Chris resisted the urge to pinch himself. If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up. Ever. Alien or no, Brodeich Geinn was the man of Chris's wet dreams.

Chris did his best to mask his nerves before he approached the daring deserter and the innocent prisoners he'd rescued from the ill-fated Harec Y'shol. He wiped his sweating palms on the outsides of his thighs just before he stopped in front of his fantasy hero.

Hello. Welcome. We're so glad you could make it.

Chris stared up at the alien's alluring face and held out his hand, praying the man wouldn't notice how badly it shook.

Brodeich stood six foot four inches tall and weighed two hundred and eighty pounds, every bit of it muscle. He had navy blue skin so dark it was almost black, and his catlike eyes were a rich coffee brown. His large, hooked nose only had one nostril, and his ears were small holes behind his temples. He had no hair on his head or on his arms or anywhere visible, and Chris couldn't help speculating whether the trait extended to parts covered by his tight gray uniform.

Of course, Chris knew that Brody Gates, the actor hidden underneath the elaborate costume, had black hair he kept cropped close to the scalp, and his skin was as brown as his eyes. Chris needed to be professional, to remember that these men and women were real people, actors, and not the characters they portrayed. With most of the talent at the convention it wasn't be a problem, but with Brodeich Geinn, the star in his wildest erotic fantasies, standing there in front of him, he knew it would be difficult.

Brodeich's long fingers wrapped around Chris's hand, his firm grip cool, smooth, and soft, like snakeskin. The press of their palms made Chris's heart race, and his mind conjured up images of them together as a couple, like in his fantasies. Brodeich would hold his hand as they walked through the park, and those same hands would caress his naked body when they went to bed at night.

I love you.

Chris could feel the heat building in his face, and he felt sure he'd turned the color of a cooked lobster. He hoped to god he hadn't said that aloud, but judging by the snickers around them, the startled expression on Brodeich's face, and the sudden hard squeeze of his fingers, he had.

Chris cleared his throat and pulled his hand out of Brodeich's grasp, giving him and his four companions an awkward smile. I mean, I'm a huge fan of the show. It broke my heart when the title disappeared from the station's listings.

That is so kind of you to say. It…broke our hearts, too, losing the spot. Our story had only just begun.

Brodeich gave a sad smile that, coupled with his defeated tone, made Chris's chest ache. It seemed strange for such a soft, gentle voice to emanate from so large a man and for so much emotion to be conveyed in so short a speech. It was the quality Chris found most alluring, the way those musical tones settled in his belly and filled him with warmth, even when issuing from the television set. He stared in awe at Brodeich's expressive mouth, the smiling lips and pointed teeth so at odds and yet, somehow, just right. He caught a glimpse of a blue tongue and wondered how it would taste, how it would feel invading his mouth.

Chris shook himself out of the daydream. He had a job to do and it didn't involve standing about and mooning like a schoolgirl. He needed to get the actors upstairs to their booth so they could set up. The doors would open in less than an hour and thousands of Sci-Fi nerds would flood the halls and fill the ballrooms and conference centers.

So, uh… I'm Chris Myers. I'm running the floor you all are assigned to so if you need anything, I'm the guy you need to talk to.

Chris Myers. Thank you. Hielo, the young, headstrong half-blood Budgeon offered Chris a wide, toothy grin. You are too kind. His heavily accented English was his