Captured Boxed Set: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart (17 page)

Chapter
Three

Megan regained consciousness
slowly, a half smile curving her lips as her vivid dream of a space buccaneer
kidnapping her for seduction slowly dissipated.
What an odd dream to have.
She
opened her eyes and blinked as she stared up at some odd machine. Lights
flashed, machinery whirred and as she watched, a hole opened up and dropped a
stream of goop on her.

"What the fuck?" She
struggled to sit up but couldn’t, which caused a mini panic attack.
Hyperventilating, she whipped her head from side to side, the only part of her
she could move, looking for answers. No straps appeared on her arms, and when
she lifted her head to peek she saw nothing on her legs. Yet something, an
invisible force, held her prone while the machine dropped icky stuff all over
her body. Most disturbing of all, she wore not a stitch of clothing.
Who
undressed me? And what did they do to my body?

Memory of her abduction flooded her
mind and she closed her eyes with a groan. Apparently, the tall, dark pirate
she vaguely remembered from her dream wasn’t a figment of her imagination. He’d
brought her aboard his ship and now prepared to… She cracked an eye open. Heal
her? Probe her? Tenderize her body for eating? She hoped for the first option,
but wouldn’t hold her breath.

Caught like a fly on sticky
tape—until she could finagle her way out—she took stock of her situation. The
burning pain in her leg and ribs seemed gone, numb with drugs? Or had the
machine disabled her nerve endings?
Maybe to prevent me from screaming when
they eat me alive?
She really shouldn’t have watched that marathon of bad
space movies with Cameron. Make that more like horror flicks about the
different ways humans could die at alien hands.

Of her fatigue, not a trace
remained; not even any soreness in her muscles from those hours of treading
water. It made her wonder just how long she’d remained unconscious.

In order to keep herself from
panicking as the machine marinated her skin in a variety of liquid slime, she
turned her thoughts to her recollection of the alien, a twisted version of Han
Solo. She wouldn’t mind taking a peek at him again to see if he was as
intriguing as she recalled. Delirious with pain, she’d gotten a brief
impression of height, width and piercing blue eyes. And surprise! He definitely
hadn’t expected to find her on his ship.

Heat suffused her, unnatural
warmth, and she craned her head as far as she could to see if the machine had
set her body on fire. No flames licked at her skin, but the weird goop all over
her body melted, and a moment later, the invisible force holding her let go. 

Megan rolled off the table like
structure and peered around. As rooms went, this one sucked big time. Decorated
in plain, off-white walls with no seams, or even a door, she found herself
disappointed. So far, this space ship definitely wasn’t living up to her
expectations. Megan turned back to the table, the only object around, in time
to see the machine, which had gooped her, recede into the ceiling.

Great. Now, the room appeared even
more barren. With nothing to intrigue her, and refusing to give in to
panic—yet—she took a moment to take stock of herself, running her hands over
her body, seeking any trace of soreness or abrasions. However, not only did she
feel great, but she appeared better than new. Seriously. Whatever the machine
had done, it not only healed her injuries, but also took care of other imperfections,
too. The scar from her emergency appendix surgery? Gone, along with the one on
her knee from when she’d scraped it bad in her teens riding a bike, and that
spot on her shin she liked to nick when shaving.
Now if only it could have
tightened my ass and tits up, too.
While she didn’t mind their size, the
jiggle when she ran was distracting.

Whole in body, unsure of her
spirit, and with more questions than a cop, she prowled around the edges of the
room, running her hands along the surface looking for a seam or something to
press that would allow her to exit. She also really wished she could find
something to wear. Somehow encountering alien life while in the buff didn’t
seem like it would put her at an advantage, so when she heard a whisper of
sound behind her, she whirled while slapping one hand over her crotch and
flinging the other across her boobs.

Given her generous size, that
didn’t accomplish much other than make her alien kidnapper open his eyes wide
before laughing, an apparently universal sound.

"I fail to see the humor,"
she growled through gritted teeth. "Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate
you turn around, or even better, run along to fetch me some clothes."

That shut him up even if he
remained facing her. "Xfinew fika gdolpa?" He spoke to her in a
guttural tongue that sent shivers dancing along her skin.

She ignored how his voice affected
her and concentrated on the fact she didn’t understand a damned thing he said. "I
don’t know what the hell you just said, so do you want to try again in English
instead of whatever alien language you’re using." She tapped a bare foot
as she glared at him imperiously—naked or not, she refused to show fear even if
inside, she quivered at the situation.

He snarled some foreign words
before throwing something at her and stalking out of the room. Fabric hit her
as she watched in stunned amazement how the previously unseen door just slid
across the opening, leaving the wall seamless again.

Unsure of when the annoyed alien
freak would return, she scrambled to get into the clothes, his she surmised
judging by the size and style: a white tunic shirt that hung to her knees and
pants that hugged her rounded ass but went well past her ankle. She sat down
and rolled the bottoms until her feet peeked out. As attire went, she was well
covered if braless.

As she waited for the Martian to
return, her mind took the time to dissect his appearance properly. First,
immense didn’t begin to describe him. The man had to tower over her by at least
a foot or more, and at five foot eight, she wasn’t some dainty little flower.
And talk about wide. Holy freaking chest. She had only to look down at the
shirt that draped her body to swallow in awe at the width of his torso.
Big
from muscle or fat? Or does he have like alien parts hidden under there?

She couldn’t deny a curiosity to
find out. Ignoring his body for a minute, she thought on his face and the color
of his skin. 
Purple, he’s freaking purple.
Not a light pansy violet,
but a deep rich mauve that made his almost opaque blue eyes pop. His dark hair,
with its slight wave, hung almost to his shoulders, the color matching the
neatly trimmed goatee on his square chin. He wore a silver ring in one nostril
and another in his arched brow. His lips appeared black, but his teeth gleamed
brightly—and pointed.
Definitely a carnivore with chompers like that.
And
when he spoke in that strange gibberish, he’d rumbled low and sexy, a gruff
voice to go with his tough ass look. She vaguely recalled calling him Han Solo
on crack, but she revised that to Johnny Depp in his pirate role commuted to
space. Dark, dangerous, and wickedly hot looking.
 
Given his alien
characteristics, she had to wonder just what other surprises he hid other than
his skin color and teeth, like maybe a forked dick or acidic jizz.
She
slapped a hand over her mouth before she could giggle aloud, not sure if he or
some other E.T. watched her from some hidden camera.

Good looks aside, she wasn’t here
on an intergalactic cruise to pick up sexy aliens—even if she couldn’t deny curiosity.
She’d narrowly escaped her last lover, and now that she had a second chance at
life, she needed to swear off men—even hot space ones—for a while. A long
while.
Hell, maybe I’ll check out what it’s like on the other side. Maybe
I’d have better luck with another woman.
The idea didn’t enthuse her.

With no warning, the wall slid open
again and her dark pirate stepped in, his clear eyes glittering. He tossed
something small at her and she lifted her hands to catch it—and missed. She’d
never excelled at sports, outside the bedroom that was. Naked, she could keep
up with any skinny bitch.

The little black object clattered
to the floor and she heard an exasperated sigh. "Well, excuse me for not
being Miss Agile. You try getting almost drowned by your boyfriend, sucked into
some spaceship by a tractor beam, and then having some weird machine experiment
on you. I guarantee your reflexes would suck, too."

He didn’t reply, just crossed his
arms across his massive chest and inclined his head at the object on the floor.
She stooped to pick it up and turned it in her hand, not recognizing the item
at all. "What is it?"

Another sigh sounded followed by
movement.  She flicked her gaze at him and sucked in a breath as she discovered
him coming at her, almost seven feet of bristling, purple alien pirate. In a
disgustingly girly reaction, she backed up. He growled, and in reflex, she
growled back. Her response made his brows shoot up. She couldn’t help the smirk
that crossed her face as she threw him off balance.

In a lightning quick move, his hand
shot out toward her and she squeaked before she dashed behind the table she’d
woken up on.

"Don’t come near me," she
yelled. "You—you giant, purple weirdo."

"Kddwol sgewo." He spoke
gibberish again and motioned her forward with his hand.

She snorted. Not likely. He
snarled, baring his pointed teeth. With nothing to protect herself, she threw
the black thing at him.  He caught it with a blurring movement of his hand and
she gulped. He displayed remarkable reflexes. He moved around the table, and
she shuffled her feet, keeping herself away.

It wasn’t like her to act so
cowardly, but truly, the guy—if an alien could be called a guy—was freaking
huge, and he didn’t look happy. She screamed when he leapt over the table and
snagged an arm around her waist. She continued to shriek and thrash as he
whirled her around. He yanked her back into his hard chest, his one arm an
immovable anchor around her waist. His other hand fiddled at her ear, and she
screamed. "Let go of me you freakish brute."

"Would you shut up, you
annoying female, before I give into my first impulse to kill you."

As his words penetrated her panic,
she stilled, her chest heaving. "I understood you," she whispered.

"Of course you did, silly
human. If you hadn’t panicked, like your kind are wont to do, I would have
shown you how to insert the translator yourself."

"Well, how the hell was I
supposed to know?" she snapped back. "It’s not like I’ve ever met an
alien before. In my world, we don’t shove things in people’s ears when we meet
them for the first time."

"Yes, I am well aware of your
planet’s barbarian status," he retorted with a disgusted snort.

"What?" she sputtered. "Look
who’s calling the kettle black. I’d say you aren’t that far from caveman status
yourself."

"I knew I should have killed
you," he grumbled from behind her.

It occurred to Megan that perhaps
she should shut up for a moment before he acted on his words. The silence,
though, made her aware of where she stood, more against whom. Pressed against
her back, the alien heated her even through the fabric separating them. The
palm pressed against her stomach branded her through the thin linen shirt and
held her firmly against him. She wiggled in a sudden attempt to get away, but
this served only to have him bring her closer and her eyes widened as she felt
something poking her in the back.
That better not be what I think it is.

Instead of smartly shutting up, she
took in a breath. "Oh, no fucking way. If you think I’m going to service
you sexually, you are out of your mind. I don’t bang guys I don’t know, and
that goes double for aliens. I don’t care if you accidentally rescued me—"

He thrust her from him and snorted.
"You think highly of yourself, female, if you think I would stoop to
copulating with your pale form. Your mouth alone is enough to shrivel any man’s
cock."

Megan whirled and planted her hands
on her hip. "Pale? I’m the one with some normal color here instead of
freaking purple.  And I’ll have you know, my mouth has never received any
complaints; on the contrary, my oral techniques are well known among my lovers."
When his lips twitched into a partial grin, she grasped what she’d said and red
heat rose up her neck to color her cheeks. However, she didn’t cower or run.
She stood straighter and faced him with a glare.

"Thank you for advising me of
your aptitude. I shall be sure to add it to your list of skills when I auction
you off at the first available port."

And with those words, he whirled on
his heel and began walking away.

Auction?
Oh, hell no.
She steeled herself for battle and
took off after him.

* * *

Tren bristled with anger, not at
the Earthling who’d amused him with her brave posturing and inane chattering,
but at himself for his interest in finding out just how good her oral skills
were. He had no interest in the barbarian creature. Although, shoving his cock
into her chatterbox would at least muffle the sound of her complaining for a
while, something his turgid shaft urged him to try.